{"collection":"myth-cosmogony","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/gutenberg_74167/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/gutenberg_74167","id":"gutenberg_74167","license":"Public Domain (US)","rights_basis":"gutenberg_metadata_copyright_false","source":"gutenberg","source_url":"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/74167","summary":null,"tags":["Category: Classics of Literature","Category: Mythology, Legends & Folklore","Category: Plays/Films/Dramas","Greek drama (Tragedy) -- History and criticism","Mythology, Greek, in literature"],"text":"=Transcriber\u2019s Note:= This ebook makes extensive use of Greek metrical\nsymbols, for example \u23d1 (U+23D1 METRICAL BREVE), \u23d8 (U+23D8 METRICAL\nTETRASEME). If these do not display for you, you\u2019ll need to install a\nfont which can handle these characters. Everson Mono is one such font.\n\n\n\n\nGREEK TRAGEDY\n\n\n\n\n                              GREEK TRAGEDY\n\n                                    BY\n                          GILBERT NORWOOD, M.A.\n             FORMERLY FELLOW OF ST. JOHN\u2019S COLLEGE, CAMBRIDGE\n          PROFESSOR OF GREEK IN THE UNIVERSITY COLLEGE, CARDIFF\n\n                            METHUEN & CO. LTD.\n                           36 ESSEX STREET W.C.\n                                  LONDON\n\n                        _First Published in 1920_\n\n\n\n\nPREFACE\n\n\nThis book is an attempt to cover the whole field of Greek Tragedy.\nMy purpose throughout has been twofold. Firstly, I have sought to\nprovide classical students with definite facts and with help towards a\npersonal appreciation of the plays they read. My other intention has\nbeen to interest and in some degree to satisfy those \u201cgeneral readers\u201d\nwho have little or no knowledge of Greek. This second function is\nto-day at least as important as the first. Apart from the admirable\nprogress shown in Europe and the English-speaking world by many works\nof first-rate Greek scholarship, in the forefront of which stand Jebb\u2019s\nmonumental Sophocles, Verrall\u2019s achievements in dramatic criticism, and\nthe unrivalled _Einleitung_ of Wilamowitz-Moellendorff,\u2014the magnificent\nverse-translations of Professor Gilbert Murray, springing from a rare\nunion of poetic genius with consummate scholarship, have introduced\nin this country a new epoch of interest in Greek drama among many\nthousands who are unacquainted with the language. Even more momentous\nis the fact that the feeling of educated people about drama in general\nhas been revolutionized and reanimated by the creative genius of Ibsen,\nwhose penetrating influence is the chief cause of the present dramatic\nrenaissance in Great Britain.\n\nTwo important topics have been given more prominence than is usual in\nbooks of this kind: dramatic structure and the scansion of lyrics.\n\nIt might have been supposed self-evident that the former of these is a\nvital part, indeed the foundation, of the subject, but it has suffered\nremarkable neglect or still more remarkable superficiality of treatment:\ncriticism of the Greek tragedians has been vitiated time and again by a\ntendency to ignore the very existence of dramatic form. It is a strange\nreflection that the world of scholarship waited till 1887 for the mere\nrevelation of grave difficulties in the plot of the _Agamemnon_. Examining\nboards still prescribe \u201c_Ajax_ vv. 1-865,\u201d on the na\u00efve assumption that\nthey know better than Sophocles where the play ought to end. Euripides\nhas been discussed with a perversity which one would scarcely surpass if\none applied to Anatole France the standards appropriate to Clarendon.\nThroughout I have attempted to follow the working of each playwright\u2019s\nmind, to realize what he meant his work to \u201cfeel like\u201d. This includes\nmuch besides structure, but the plot is still, as in Aristotle\u2019s day,\n\u201cthe soul of the drama\u201d.\n\nChapter VI, on metre and rhythm, will, I hope, be found useful. Greek\nlyrics are so difficult that most students treat them as prose. I have\ndone my best to be accurate, clear, and simple, with the purpose of\nenabling the sixth-form boy or undergraduate to read his \u201cchorus\u201d with a\nsense of metrical and rhythmical form. With regard to this chapter, even\nmore than the others, I shall welcome criticism and advice.\n\nI have to thank my wife for much help, and my friend Mr. Cyril Brett,\nM.A., who kindly offered to make the Index.\n\n                                                           GILBERT NORWOOD\n\n\n\n\nCONTENTS\n\n\n   CHAP.                                                  PAGE\n\n      I. THE LITERARY HISTORY OF GREEK TRAGEDY               1\n\n     II. THE GREEK THEATRE AND THE PRODUCTION OF PLAYS      49\n\n    III. THE WORKS OF \u00c6SCHYLUS                              84\n\n     IV. THE WORKS OF SOPHOCLES                            132\n\n      V. THE WORKS OF EURIPIDES                            186\n\n     VI. METRE AND RHYTHM IN GREEK TRAGEDY                 327\n\n         INDEX                                             365\n\n\n\n\nGREEK TRAGEDY\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER I\n\nTHE LITERARY HISTORY OF GREEK TRAGEDY\n\n\nAll the types of dramatic poetry known in Greece, tragic, satyric,\nand comic, originated in the worship of Dionysus, the deity of wild\nvegetation, fruits, and especially the vine. In his honour, at the\nopening of spring, were performed dithyrambs, hymns rendered by a chorus,\nwho, dressed like satyrs, the legendary followers of Dionysus, presented\nby song and mimic dance stories from the adventurous life of the god\nwhile on earth. It is from these dithyrambs that tragedy and satyric\ndrama both sprang. The celebrated Arion, who raised the dithyramb to a\nsplendid art-form, did much[1] incidentally to aid this development. His\nmain achievement in this regard is the insertion of spoken lines in the\ncourse of the lyrical performance; it seems, further, that these verses\nconsisted of a dialogue between the chorus and the chorus-leader, who\nmounted upon the sacrificial table. Such interludes, no doubt, referred\nto incidents in the sacred story, and the early name for an actor\n(\u1f51\u03c0\u03bf\u03ba\u03c1\u03b9\u03c4\u03ae\u03c2, \u201cone who answers\u201d) suggests that members of the chorus asked\ntheir leader to explain features in the ritual or the narrative.\n\nAt this point drama begins to diverge from the dithyramb. With comedy\nwe are not here concerned.[2] The drama of the spring festival may be\ncalled \u201ctragedy,\u201d but it was in a quite rudimentary state. Its lyrics,\nsung by fifty \u201csatyrs,\u201d would altogether outshine in importance the\ndialogue-interludes between chorus-leader and individual singers; the\ntheme, moreover, would be always some event connected with Dionysus.\nTwo great changes were necessary before drama could enter on free\ndevelopment: the use of impersonation in the interludes and the admission\nof any subject at will of the poet. The first was introduced by Thespis,\nwho is said to have \u201cinvented one actor\u201d. The second was perhaps later,\nbut at least as early as Phrynichus we find plays on subjects taken from\nother than Dionysiac legends. It is said that the audience complained of\nthis innovation: \u201cWhat has this to do with Dionysus?\u201d[3]\n\nAnother great development is attributed to Pratinas\u2014the invention of\nsatyric drama. The more stately, graver features and the frolicsome,\noften gross, elements being separated, the way was clear for the free\ndevelopment of tragedy and satyric into the forms we know. But satyric\nwork, though always showing playful characteristics and a touch of\nobscenity, was never confounded with comedy. Stately figures of legend\nor theology regularly appeared in it\u2014Odysseus in the _Cyclops_, Apollo\nin the _Ichneut\u00e6_\u2014and it was a regular feature at the presentations of\ntragedy; each tragic poet competed with three tragedies followed by one\nsatyric play. When the latter form changed its tone slightly, as in the\nwork of the Alexandrian Pleiad,[4] it approximated not to comedy but to\nsatire.[5]\n\nThe Dorians claimed the credit of having invented both tragedy and\ncomedy.[6] There seems little doubt that they provided the germ, though\nthe glories of Greek drama belong to Athens. Arion, whose contribution\nhas been described, if not himself a Dorian, worked among Dorians at\nCorinth, which Pindar,[7] for example, recognized as the birthplace of\nthe dithyramb. Moreover the lyrics of purely Attic tragedy show in their\nlanguage what is generally regarded as a slight Doric colouring.[8]\n\nAristotle[9] sums up the rise of tragedy as follows: \u201cTragedy ... was\nat first mere improvization ... originating with the leaders of the\ndithyramb. It advanced by slow degrees; each new element that showed\nitself was in turn developed. Having passed through many stages, it\nfound its natural form, and there it stopped. \u00c6schylus first introduced\na second actor; he diminished the importance of the chorus, and assigned\nthe leading part to the dialogue. Sophocles raised the number of actors\nto three, and added scene-painting. It was not till late that the short\nplot was discarded for one of greater compass, and the grotesque diction\nof the earlier satyric form for the stately manner of tragedy. The iambic\nmeasure then replaced the trochaic tetrameter, which was originally\nemployed when the poetry was of the satyric order, and had greater\naffinities with dancing.... The number of \u2018episodes\u2019 or acts was also\nincreased, and the other embellishments added, of which tradition tells.\u201d\n\nWe have but meagre knowledge of the drama before \u00c6schylus, whose vast\nachievement so overshadowed his predecessors that their works were little\nread and have in consequence practically vanished. Tragedy was born\nat the moment when, as tradition relates, THESPIS of Icaria in Attica\nintroduced the actor. Arion, as we saw, had already caused one of the\nchorus to mount upon the sacrificial table or the step of the altar and\ndeliver a narrative, or converse with his fellow-choristers, concerning\nDionysus, using not lyrical metre, but the trochaic tetrameter.[10]\nThespis\u2019 great advance was to introduce a person who should actually\npresent the character to whom Arion\u2019s chorister had merely made\nallusion: the action, instead of being reported, went on before the eyes\nof the audience. This change clearly at once begets the possibility of\ndrama, however rudimentary. By retiring to the booth while the singers\nperform their lyric, he can change his mask and costume and reappear\nas another person; by learning and discussing what has been said by\nhis supposed predecessor, he can exhibit the play of emotion or the\nconstruction of a plan.\n\nIf this was done by Thespis, he was the founder of European drama. His\n_floruit_ may be assigned to the year 535 B.C., the date of the first\ndramatic competition at Athens. But little is known of him. Aristotle\nin his _Poetic_[11] does not mention his name. Far later we have the\nremarks of Horace, \u201cDiogenes Laertius,\u201d[12] and Suidas. Horace tells[13]\nthat Thespis discovered tragic poetry, and conveyed from place to\nplace on waggons a company of players who sang and acted his pieces,\ntheir faces smeared with lees of wine: \u201cDiogenes Laertius\u201d says that\nThespis \u201cdiscovered one actor\u201d. Suidas gives us the names of several\nplays, _Phorbas_ or _The Trials_ (\u1f06\u03b8\u03bb\u03b1) _of Pelias_, _The Priests_,\n_The Youths_, _Pentheus_. We possess four fragments alleged to belong\nto these, but they are spurious. Aristotle,[14] moreover, affirms that\nTragedy was in the first place a matter of improvization. The conclusion\nseems to be that Thespis did not \u201cwrite plays\u201d in the modern sense of the\nphrase. He was much more like those Elizabethan dramatists who provided\n\u201cthe words\u201d for their actors, and for whom printing and publication were\nonly thought of if the play had achieved success upon the boards. He\nstood midway between \u00c6schylus and the unknown actor-poets before Arion\nwho improvized as they played.\n\nThe next name of importance is that of CH\u0152RILUS the Athenian, who\ncompeted in tragedy for the first time during the 64th Olympiad (524-1\nB.C.) and continued writing for the stage during forty years. He produced\none hundred and sixty plays, and obtained the first prize thirteen times.\nLater generations regarded him as especially excellent in the satyric\ndrama[15] invented by his younger contemporary Pratinas. To him were\nattributed the invention of masks, as a substitute for the wine-lees\nof Thespis, and more majestic costume. We know by name only one of his\nworks, the _Alope_, which is concerned with the Attic hero Triptolemus.\nA fragment or two reveal an unexpected preciosity of style; he called\nstones and rivers \u201cthe bones and veins of the earth\u201d.\n\nPRATINAS of Phlius, in the north of the Peloponnese, is said to have\ncompeted with \u00c6schylus and Ch\u0153rilus in the 70th Olympiad (500-497\nB.C.). His great achievement, as we have said, was the invention of\nsatyric drama. Fifty plays are attributed to him, of which thirty-two\nwere satyric. Hardly any fragments of these are extant, but we get some\nconception of the man from a _hyporchema_ in which he complains that\nmusic is encroaching upon poetry: \u201clet the flute follow the dancing\nrevel of the song\u2014it is but an attendant\u201d. With boundless gusto and\npolysyllabic energy he consigns the flute to flames and derision.\n\nAt length we reach a poet who seems to have been really great, a\ndramatist whose works, even to a generation which knew and reverenced\n\u00c6schylus, seemed unworthy to be let die\u2014PHRYNICHUS of Athens, son of\nPolyphradmon, whose first victory occurred 512-509 B.C. It is said that\nhe was the first to bring female characters upon the stage (always,\nhowever, played by men). The following dramas are known by name:\n_Egyptians_; _Alcestis_; _Ant\u00e6us_ or _The Libyans_; _The Daughters of\nDanaus_; _The Capture of Miletus_; _Ph\u0153nician Women_ (_Ph\u0153niss\u00e6_);\n_The Women of Pleuron_; _Tantalus_; _Troilus_. The _Egyptians_ seems\nto have dealt with the same subject as the _Supplices_ of \u00c6schylus;\nso does the _Danaides_; these two dramas may have formed part of a\ntrilogy. The _Alcestis_ followed the same lines as the Euripidean play;\nit is probable, indeed, that the apparition of Death with a sword\nwas borrowed by Euripides from Phrynichus. The _Ant\u00e6us_ related the\nwrestling-match between Heracles and his earth-born foe. The manner in\nwhich Aristophanes[16] refers to the play shows that the description of\nthe wrestling-bout was still celebrated after the lapse of a century. The\n_Pleuroni\u00e6_ treated of Meleager and the fateful log which was preserved,\nand then burnt in anger, by his mother Alth\u00e6a.\n\nTwo plays were specially important. The _Ph\u0153niss\u00e6_ (produced in 476),\ncelebrated the victory of Salamis, had Themistocles himself for choregus,\nand won the prize; its popularity never waned throughout the fifth\ncentury. We are told that the prologue was spoken by an eunuch while he\nplaced the cushions for the Persian counsellors; further\u2014an important\nfact\u2014that this person, at the beginning of the play, announced the defeat\nof Xerxes. The _Capture of Miletus_, less popular in later days\u2014no\nfragments at all are to be found\u2014created even more stir at the moment.\nMiletus had been captured by Darius in 494 B.C., Athens having failed to\ngive effective support to the Ionian revolt. While the distress and shame\nexcited by the fall of the proudest city in Asiatic Greece were still\nstrong in Athenian minds, Phrynichus ventured to dramatize the disaster.\nHerodotus tells how \u201cthe theatre burst into tears; they fined him a\nthousand drachm\u00e6 for reminding them of their own misfortunes, and gave\ncommand that no man should ever use that play again\u201d.[17]\n\nFew lost works are so sorely to be regretted as those of Phrynichus.\nThe collection of fragments merely hints at a genius who commanded the\naffection of an age which knew his great successors, a master whose\ndignity was not utterly overborne by \u00c6schylus, and whose tenderness\ncould still charm hearts which had thrilled to the agonies of Medea\nand the romance of Andromeda. The chief witness to his popularity is\nAristophanes, who paints for us a delightful picture[18] of the old men\nin the dark before the dawn, trudging by lantern-light through the mud\nto the law-court, and humming as they go the \u201ccharming old-world honeyed\nditties\u201d from the _Ph\u0153niss\u00e6_. In another play[19] the birds assert that\nit is from their song that \u201cPhrynichus, like his own bee, took his feast,\nfood of the gods, the fruit of song, and found unfailingly a song full\nsweet\u201d. One or two snatches survive from these lyrics, lines from the\n_Ph\u0153niss\u00e6_ in the \u201cgreater Asclepiad\u201d metre which is the form of some\nof Sappho\u2019s loveliest work, and a verse[20] from the _Troilus_ which\nSophocles himself quoted: \u201cthe light of love on rosy cheeks is beaming\u201d.\n\nIt is clear that for most Athenians the spell of Phrynichus lay in his\nsongs; succeeding poets he impressed almost equally as a playwright. It\nhas already been mentioned that Euripides seems to have borrowed from\nthe _Alcestis_. \u00c6schylus, especially, was influenced by his style, and\nin the _Pers\u00e6_ followed the older poet closely. Indeed the relation\nbetween the _Pers\u00e6_ and the _Ph\u0153niss\u00e6_ is puzzling, but ancient authority\ndid not hesitate to say that the later work was \u201cmodelled on\u201d the\nearlier.[21] It is no question of a _r\u00e9chauff\u00e9_ to suit the taste of\na later age, like the revisions of Shakespeare by Davenant and Cibber,\nfor the two tragedies are separated at the utmost by only seven years;\nrather we appear to have a problem like the connexion between _Macbeth_\nand Middleton\u2019s _Witch_. Perhaps the soundest opinion is that the\nyounger playwright wished to demonstrate his own method of writing and\nhis theory of dramatic composition in the most striking way possible\u2014by\nchoosing a famous drama of the more rudimentary type and rewriting it\nas it ought to be written. Two features in the _Ph\u0153niss\u00e6_ seem to lend\nsupport to this view. Firstly, the prologue was delivered by a slave\nwho was preparing the seats of the Persian counsellors. The _Pers\u00e6_\nexpunges the man and his speech, presenting us at once with the elders in\ndeliberation. Nothing is more characteristic of the architectonic power\nin literature than the instinct to sweep away everything but the minimum\nof mere machinery; at the first instant we are in the midst of the plot.\nSecondly, the prologue at once announced the disaster. Nothing was left\nbut the amplification of sorrow, a quasi-operatic presentation by the\nPh\u0153nician women who formed the chorus. Here again the _Pers\u00e6_ provides a\nmost instructive contrast.\n\nFrom the fragments, from ancient testimony, and from the recasting of the\n_Ph\u0153niss\u00e6_ which appeared instinctive or necessary to \u00c6schylus, we gain\nsome clear conception of Phrynichus. A lyrist of sweetness and pellucid\ndignity, he has been compared[22] to his contemporary Simonides; the\ngraceful phrases in which Aristophanes declared that Phrynichus drew his\ninspiration from the birds recall to us the \u201cnative wood-notes wild\u201d of\nShakespeare\u2019s earlier achievement. As a playwright in the strict sense\nhe is, for us, the first effective master, but still swayed by the age\nof pure lyrists which was just reaching its culmination and its close in\nPindar\u2014so greatly swayed that the \u201cepisodes\u201d were still little more than\ninterruptions of lyrics which gave but a static expression to feeling.\n\n\u00c6SCHYLUS, the son of Euphorion, was born at Eleusis in 525 B.C. At the\nage of twenty-five he began to exhibit plays, but did not win the prize\nuntil the year 485. The Persian invasions swept down upon Athens when\n\u00c6schylus had come to the maturity of his powers. He served as a hoplite\nat Marathon[23] and his brother Cynegirus distinguished himself even on\nthat day of heroes by his desperate courage in attempting to thwart the\nflight of the invaders. That the poet was present at Salamis also may\nbe regarded as certain from the celebrated description in the _Pers\u00e6_.\nHe twice visited Sicily. On the first occasion, soon after 470 B.C., he\naccepted the invitation of Hiero, King of Syracuse, and composed _The\nWomen of Etna_ to celebrate the city which Hiero was founding on the\nslope of that mountain. Various stories to explain his retirement from\nAthens were circulated in antiquity. Some relate that he was unnerved\nby a collapse of the wooden benches during a performance of one of his\nplays. Others said that he was defeated by Simonides in a competition:\nthe task was to write an epitaph on those who fell at Marathon. According\nto others he was chagrined by a dramatic defeat which he sustained at the\nhands of the youthful Sophocles in 468. A fourth story declared that he\nwas accused of divulging the Eleusinian Mysteries in one of his plays,\nand was in danger of his life until he proved that he had himself never\nbeen initiated. These stories are hard to accept. Possibly he wrote\nsomething which offended against Eleusinian rule, and was condemned\nto banishment or possibly to death, which (as often occurred) he was\nallowed to escape by voluntary exile. We cannot suppose that he pleaded\nignorance[24] seriously; a man of his genuinely devout temperament, and\na native of Eleusis, must assuredly have been initiated. A second visit\nto Sicily was taken after he had again won the prize with the _Oresteia_.\nHe never returned. Story tells how he was sitting on the hillside near\nthe city of Gela when an eagle, flying with a tortoise in its claws in\nquest of a stone whereon to crush it, dropped its prey upon the bald head\nof the poet and killed him. He left two sons, Euphorion and Bion, who\nalso pursued the tragic art\u2014a tradition which persisted in the family for\ngenerations.\n\n\u00c6schylus is too great a dramatist to receive detailed treatment in the\ncourse of a general discussion; a separate chapter must be allotted to\nthis. At present we shall consider only his position in the history of\ntragedy.\n\nThe great technical change introduced by \u00c6schylus was that he \u201cfirst\nintroduced a second actor; he diminished the importance of the chorus,\nand assigned the leading part to the dialogue\u201d.[25] The two last\nstatements are corollaries of the first, which describe a deeply\nimportant advance. It has been said above that the drama was founded\nby the man who \u201cinvented one actor\u201d; at the same time it is easy to\nrealize how primitive such drama must have been. The addition of another\nactor did not double the resources of tragedy, rather it increased\nthem fifty-fold. To bring two opposed or sympathetic characters face\nto face, to exhibit the clash of principles by means of the clash of\npersonalities, this is a step forward into a new world, a change so great\nthat to call \u00c6schylus the very inventor of tragedy is not unreasonable.\nThis meagre equipment of two actors was found sufficient by two of the\nfifth-century masters for work[26] of the highest value. The further\nremark of Aristotle that \u00c6schylus \u201cdiminished the importance of the\nchorus\u201d follows naturally from the vast increase in the importance of the\n\u201cepisodes\u201d.\n\nRevolutionary as \u00c6schylus was, he did not attain at a bound to a\ncharacteristic dramatic form of his own and then advance no farther. In\nhis earliest extant play, the _Supplices_, the alterations mentioned\nabove are certainly in operation, but their use is tentative. The chorus\nis no doubt less dominant than it had been, but it is the most important\nfeature, even to a modern reader. To an ancient spectator it must have\nappeared of even greater moment. The number of singers was still fifty,\nand the lyrics, accompanied by music and the dance of this great company,\noccupy more than half of our present text. We have left Phrynichus\nbehind, but he is not out of sight.\n\nIt is necessary at this point to give some account of the life of\nSOPHOCLES and his position in dramatic history, though a detailed\ndiscussion of his extant work must be reserved for a separate chapter. He\nwas born about 496 B.C., the son of a well-to-do citizen named Sophillus,\nand received, in addition to the usual education, more advanced training\nin music from the celebrated Lampros. The youth\u2019s physical beauty was\nremarkable, and at the age of sixteen he was chosen to lead the choir of\nboys who performed the p\u00e6an celebrating the victory of Salamis. Nothing\nmore is known of his life till the year 468, when he produced his first\ntragedy. One of his fellow-competitors was \u00c6schylus, and we are told[27]\nthat feeling ran so high that the Archon, instead of choosing the judges\nby lot as usual, entrusted the decision to the board of generals;\nthey awarded the victory to the youthful Sophocles. For sixty years he\nproduced a steady stream of dramatic work with continuous success. He\nat first performed in his own plays\u2014his skill in the _Nausicaa_ gained\ngreat applause\u2014but was compelled to give this up owing to the failure of\nhis voice. The number of his plays was well over a hundred, performed in\ngroups of four, and he won eighteen victories at the City Dionysia; even\nwhen he failed of the first prize, he was never lower than the second\nplace.[28] His genius seems even to have increased with advancing age;\nhe was about ninety when he wrote the _\u0152dipus Coloneus_. Sophocles took\na satisfactory if not prominent part in public life,[29] being twice\nelected general, once with Pericles and later with Nicias. He served\nalso as Hellenotamias\u2014a member, that is, of the Treasury Board which\nadministered the funds of the Delian Confederacy. It is an interesting\ncomment on the early part of the _\u0152dipus Coloneus_ that the poet acted\nas priest of two heroes, Asclepius and Alcon. He had several sons, the\nmost celebrated of whom was Iophon, himself a tragedian of repute. A\nfamous story relates that Iophon, being jealous of his illegitimate\nbrother, brought a suit to prove his father\u2019s insanity, with the intent\nto become administrator of his estate. The aged poet\u2019s defence consisted\nin a recitation of the _\u0152dipus Coloneus_ which he had just completed, and\nthe jury most naturally dismissed Iophon\u2019s petition. He died late in 406\nB.C., fully ninety years old, a few months later than Euripides, and not\nlong before the disaster of \u00c6gospotami. The Athenian people mourned him\nas a hero under the name of Dexion, \u201cThe Entertainer,\u201d or \u201cHost,\u201d and\nbrought yearly sacrifice to his shrine.\n\nThe personality of Sophocles stands out more definitely before the\nmodern eye than that of perhaps any other fifth-century Greek. His social\ntalent made him a noted figure whose good sayings were repeated, and of\nwhom the gossips as well as the critics loved to circulate illustrative\nstories. He seemed the embodiment of all that man can ask. Genius, good\nhealth, industry, long life, personal beauty, affluence, popularity, and\nthe sense of power\u2014all were his, and enjoyed in that very epoch which,\nbeyond all others, seems to have combined stimulus with satisfaction.\nSalamis was fought and won just as he had left childhood behind. His\nadolescence and maturity coincided with the rise and establishment of\nthe Athenian Empire; he listened to Pericles, saw the Parthenon and\nPropyl\u00e6a rise upon the Acropolis, associated with \u00c6schylus, Euripides,\nAristophanes, and Thucydides, watched the work of Phidias and Polygnotus\ngrow to life under their fingers. Though he carried into the years of\nNestor the genius of Shakespeare, he was yet so blessed that he died\nbefore the fall of Athens. Phrynichus, the comic poet, wrote: \u201cBlessed\nwas Sophocles, who passed so many years before his death, a happy man and\nbrilliant, who wrote many beautiful tragedies and made a fair end of a\nlife which knew no misfortune\u201d.[30] Sophocles\u2019 own words[31] come as a\nsignificant comment:\u2014\n\n    \u03bc\u1f74 \u03c6\u1fe6\u03bd\u03b1\u03b9 \u03c4\u1f78\u03bd \u1f05\u03c0\u03b1\u03bd\u03c4\u03b1 \u03bd\u03b9\u03ba\u1fb7 \u03bb\u03cc\u03b3\u03bf\u03bd.\n    \u03c4\u1f78 \u03b4\u2019, \u1f10\u03c0\u03b5\u1f76 \u03c6\u03b1\u03bd\u1fc7,\n    \u03b2\u1fc6\u03bd\u03b1\u03b9 \u03ba\u03b5\u1fd6\u03b8\u03b5\u03bd \u1f45\u03b8\u03b5\u03bd\u03c0\u03b5\u03c1 \u1f25\u03ba\u03b5\u03b9,\n    \u03c0\u03bf\u03bb\u1f7a \u03b4\u03b5\u03cd\u03c4\u03b5\u03c1\u03bf\u03bd \u1f61\u03c2 \u03c4\u03ac\u03c7\u03b9\u03c3\u03c4\u03b1.\n\n\u201cBest of all fates\u2014when a man weighs everything\u2014is not to be born, and\nsecond-best beyond doubt is, once born, to depart with all speed to that\nplace whence we came.\u201d\n\nOf his social charm there are many evidences. He gathered round him a\nkind of literary club or _salon_. Some hint of the talk in this circle\nmay be gathered from the fragment of Ion\u2019s _Memoirs_ which tells how\nwhen the poet came to Chios he engaged in critical battle with the local\nschoolmaster concerning poetical adjectives, and quoted with approbation\nPhrynichus\u2019 line \u03bb\u03ac\u03bc\u03c0\u03b5\u03b9 \u03b4\u2019 \u1f10\u03c0\u1f76 \u03c0\u03bf\u03c1\u03c6\u03c5\u03c1\u03ad\u03b1\u03b9\u03c2 \u03c0\u03b1\u03c1\u1fc7\u03c3\u03b9 \u03c6\u1ff6\u03c2 \u1f14\u03c1\u03c9\u03c4\u03bf\u03c2. He was a\nfriend of Herodotus, from whom he quotes more than once, and to whom he\naddressed certain elegiac verses. With regard to his own art, we possess\ntwo remarks of deep interest. The first is reported by Aristotle:[32] \u201cI\ndepict men as they ought to be, Euripides depicts them as they are\u201d. It\nis excellent Attic for \u201che is a realist, I am an idealist\u201d. Nevertheless,\nhe esteemed his rival; when he led forth his chorus for the first time\nafter the news of Euripides\u2019 death in Macedonia had reached Athens, he\nand his singers wore the dress of mourning. The second remark is a brief\naccount[33] of his own development: \u201cMy dramatic wild oats were imitation\nof \u00c6schylus\u2019 pomp; then I evolved my own harsh mannerism; finally I\nembraced that style which is best, as most adapted to the portrayal of\nhuman nature\u201d. All that we now possess would seem to belong to his third\nperiod, though certain characteristics of the _Antigone_ may put us in\nmind of the second.[34]\n\nApart altogether from his glorious achievement in actual composition,\nSophocles is highly important as an innovator in technique. The changes\nwhich he introduced are: (i) the number of actors was raised from two to\nthree;[35] (ii) scene-painting was invented[35]; (iii) the plays of a\ntetralogy were, sometimes at any rate, no longer part of a great whole,\nbut quite distinct in subject;[36] (iv) it is said[37] that he raised the\nnumber of the chorus from twelve to fifteen, was the first tragedian to\nuse Phrygian music and to give his actors the bent staff and white shoe\nwhich they sometimes used.\n\nThe points named under (iv) are of small importance save the change in\nthe number of _choreut\u00e6_, but that is a detail which can scarcely be\naccepted, \u00c6schylus during part of his career employed fifty _choreut\u00e6_,\nand it is extremely improbable that the number sank as low as twelve,\nonly to rise slightly again at once. The invention of scene-painting is\nclearly momentous; it became easy to fix the action at any spot desired,\nand a change of scene also became possible. \u00c6schylus, of course, in his\nlater years made use of this development. The other two points are vital.\n\nThough the stage gained immensely by the introduction of a third actor,\nlittle perhaps need be said on the point. An examination of the early\n\u00c6schylean plays, and even of the _Choephor\u0153_ or _Agamemnon_, side by\nside with the _Philoctetes_ or _\u0152dipus Coloneus_, will make the facts\nabundantly clear. In the crisis of _\u0152dipus Tyrannus_ (for example) the\npresence of Jocasta,[38] while her husband hears the tidings brought by\nthe Corinthian, does not merely add to the poignancy of the scene; it may\nalmost be said to create it.\n\nThe last change, that of breaking up the tetralogy into four disconnected\ntragedies, is equally fundamental. The older poet was a man of simple\nideas and gigantic grasp. His conceptions demanded the vast scope of a\ntrilogy, and perhaps the most astonishing feature of his work is the\nfact that, while each drama is a splendid and self-intelligible whole,\nit gains its full import only from the significance of the complete\norganism. Sophocles realized that he possessed a narrower, if more\nsubtle, genius, and moulded his technique to suit his powers. Each of\nhis works, however spacious and statuesque it may seem beside _Macbeth_,\n_Lear_, or even _Hippolytus_, shows, as compared with \u00c6schylus, a\ncloseness of texture in characterization and a delicate stippling of\nlanguage, which mark nothing less than a revolution.\n\nTradition tells that EURIPIDES was born at Salamis on the very day of\nthe great victory (480 B.C.); the Parian marble puts the date five years\nearlier. He was thus a dozen or more years younger than Sophocles.\nHis father\u2019s name was Mnesarchus; his mother Clito is ridiculed by\nAristophanes as a petty green-grocer, but all other evidence suggests\nthat they were well-to-do; Euripides was able to devote himself to\ndrama, from which little financial reward could be expected, and to\ncollect a library\u2014a remarkable possession for those days. He lived\nalmost entirely for his art, though he must, like other citizens, have\nseen military service. His public activities seem to have included\nnothing more extraordinary than a single \u201cembassy\u201d to Syracuse. Unlike\nSophocles, he cared little for society save that of a few intimates,\nand wrote much in a cave on Salamis which he had fitted up as a study.\nThe great philosopher Anaxagoras was his friend and teacher; several\npassages[39] in the extant plays point plainly to his influence. It was\nin Euripides\u2019 house that Protagoras read for the first time his treatise\non the gods which brought about the sophist\u2019s expulsion from Athens.\nSocrates himself is traditionally regarded as the poet\u2019s friend. Aulus\nGellius[40] says that he began to write tragedy at the age of eighteen;\nbut it was not till 455 B.C. (when he was perhaps thirty) that he\n\u201cobtained a chorus\u201d\u2014that is, had his work accepted for performance. One\nof these pieces was the _Peliades_; he obtained only the third place. By\nthe end of his life he had written nearly a hundred dramas, including\nsatyric works, but obtained the first prize only four times: his fifth\nvictory was won by the tetralogy which included the _Bacch\u00e6_, performed\nafter his death. His influence was far out of proportion to these scanty\nrewards.[41] On any given occasion he might be defeated by some talented\nmediocrity who hit the taste of the moment. When he offered the _Medea_\nitself he was overcome, not only by Sophocles, but by Euphorion; yet his\nvast powers were recognized by all Athens. Euripides was married\u2014twice it\nis said\u2014and had three sons. Late in his life he accepted an invitation\nfrom Archelaus, King of Macedonia; after living there a short time in\nhigh favour and writing his latest plays, he died in 406 B.C. He was\nburied in Macedonia and a cenotaph was erected to his memory in Attica.\n\nFurther light both on the career and works of Euripides has recently\nbeen provided by an interesting discovery. In 1912 Dr. Arthur S. Hunt\npublished[42] extensive fragments of a life of the poet by Satyrus,\nfrom portions of a papyrus-roll found at Oxyrhynchus in Egypt by Dr.\nGrenfell and Dr. Hunt. Satyrus lived in the third century before\nChrist: our MS. itself is dated by its discoverers \u201cfrom the middle\nor latter part of the second century\u201d after Christ. The most striking\npoints are (i) Satyrus quotes the fragment of the _Pirithous_ dealt\nwith below,[43] attributing it, as was often done, to Euripides, and\nsaying that the poet \u201chas accurately embraced the whole cosmogony of\nAnaxagoras in three periods\u201d;[44] (ii) there are new fragments, on the\nvain pursuit of wealth; (iii) the poet was prosecuted for impiety by the\nstatesman Cleon; (iv) we read that Euripides wrote the proem for the\n_Pers\u00e6_ composed by his friend the musician Timotheus; (v) Satyrus, in\ndiscussing _peripeteia_, mentions \u201cravishings, supposititious infants,\nand recognitions by means of rings and necklaces\u2014for these, as you know,\nare the back-bone of the New Comedy, and were perfected by Euripides\u201d.\n\nA discussion of Euripides\u2019 surviving work will be found in a separate\nchapter. Our business here is to indicate his position in the development\nof technique. Though he is for ever handling his material and the\nresources of the stage in an original and experimental manner, the\ndefinite changes which he introduced are few. That many of his dramas\nare not tragedies at all but tragicomedies, is a development of the\nfirst importance. Another fact of this kind is his musical innovations.\nThe lyrics of his plays tend to become less important as literature and\nto subserve the music, in which he introduced fashions not employed\nbefore, such as the \u201cmixed Lydian\u201d; it is impossible to criticize some\nof his later odes without knowledge, which we do not possess, of the\nmusic which he composed for them and the manner in which he caused them\nto be rendered. Hence the loose syntax, the polysyllabic vagueness of\nexpression, and the repeated words\u2014features which irritated Aristophanes\nand many later students.\n\nAnother novelty is his use of the prologue. Since this is properly\nnothing but \u201cthat part of the play which precedes the first song of\nthe whole chorus,\u201d[45] prologues are of course found in \u00c6schylus and\nSophocles. The peculiarity of the Euripidean prologue is that it tends to\nbe non-dramatic, a narrative enabling the spectator to understand at what\npoint in a legend the action is to begin. It is from Euripides\u2019 use of\nthe prologue that the modern meaning of the word is derived.\n\nAristophanes in his _Frogs_ makes a famous attack upon most[46] sides\nof Euripides\u2019 art as contrasted with that of \u00c6schylus. But it is often\nforgotten that, damned utterly as the younger tragedian is, \u00c6schylus by\nno means escapes criticism. Many of the censures put into Euripides\u2019\nmouth are just and important; it seems likely that Aristophanes is\npractically quoting his victim\u2019s conversation; the remark[47] about\n\u00c6schylus that \u201che was obscure in his prologues,\u201d is no mere rubbish\nattributed to a dullard. That Euripides did criticize his elder is a\nfact. The _Supplices_[48] contains a severe remark on the catalogue\nof chieftains in the _Septem_; the elaborate sarcasm directed in the\n_Electra_[49] against the Recognition-scene of the _Choephor\u0153_ is even\nmore startling. Besides this, Aristophanes seems to quote remarks of\nEuripides on himself and his work: \u201cWhen I first took over the art from\nyou, I found it swollen with braggadocio and tiresome words; so the first\nthing I did was to train down its fat and reduce its weight\u201d.[50] His\ncomment on dialogue is no less pertinent: \u201cWith you Niobe and Achilles\nnever said a word, but I left no personage idle; women, slaves, and\nhags all spoke\u201d.[51] Finally, there is the perfect description of his\nown realism[52]: \u03bf\u1f30\u03ba\u03b5\u1fd6\u03b1 \u03c0\u03c1\u03ac\u03b3\u03bc\u03b1\u03c4\u2019 \u03b5\u1f30\u03c3\u03ac\u03b3\u03c9\u03bd, \u03bf\u1f37\u03c2 \u03c7\u03c1\u03ce\u03bc\u03b5\u03b8\u2019, \u03bf\u1f37\u03c2 \u03c3\u03cd\u03bd\u03b5\u03c3\u03bc\u03b5\u03bd, \u201cI\nintroduced life as we live it, the things of our everyday experience\u201d.\nSuch sentences as these reflect unmistakably the conversation of a\nplaywright who was jealous for the dignity and the progress of his art.\n\nThough during his own time Euripides was hardly equal in repute to his\ntwo companions, scarcely had his Macedonian grave closed over him than\nhis popularity began to overshadow theirs. \u00c6schylus became a dim antique\ngiant; Sophocles, though always admired, was too definitely Attic and\nPericlean to retain all his prestige in the Hellenistic world. It was\nthe more cosmopolitan poet who won posthumous applause from one end of\nthe civilized earth to the other. From 400 B.C. to the downfall of the\nancient world he was unquestionably better known and admired than any\nother dramatist. This is shown by the much larger collection of his\nwork which has survived, by the imitation of later playwrights, and\nby innumerable passages of citation, praise, and comment in writers\nof every kind. He shared with Homer, Vergil, and Horace the equivocal\ndistinction of becoming a schoolbook even in ancient times. Nine of our\nnineteen plays were selected for this purpose: _Alcestis_, _Andromache_,\n_Hecuba_, _Hippolytus_, _Medea_, _Orestes_, _Ph\u0153niss\u00e6_, _Rhesus_, and\n_Troades_. It is not easy to see what principle of selection prompted the\neducationists of the day: _Andromache_ and _Hippolytus_ do not strike a\nmodern reader as specially \u201csuitable\u201d. Owing to their use in schools they\nwere annotated; these _scholia_ are still extant and are often of great\nvalue. In the Byzantine age the number was reduced to three: _Hecuba_,\n_Orestes_, _Ph\u0153niss\u00e6_.\n\nAmong the numerous lesser tragedians of the fifth century five hold a\ndistinguished place: Neophron of Sicyon, Aristarchus of Tegea, Ion of\nChios, Ach\u00e6us of Eretria, Agathon of Athens.\n\nNEOPHRON is an enigmatic figure. It would seem that he was an important\nforerunner of Euripides. Not only do we learn that he wrote one hundred\nand twenty tragedies and that he was the first to bring upon the stage\n\u201cp\u00e6dagogi\u201d and the examination of slaves under torture; it is said also\nthat his _Medea_ was the original of Euripides\u2019 tragedy so-named.[53]\n\u201cP\u00e6dagogi\u201d or elderly male attendants of children are familiar in\nEuripides, and the \u201cquestioning\u201d of slaves is shown (though not to\nthe audience) in the _Ion_.[54] As for the third point, we have three\nfragments which clearly recall the extant play\u2014a few lines in which\n\u00c6geus requests Medea to explain the oracle, a few more in which she\ntells Jason how he shall die, and the celebrated passage which reads\nlike a shorter version of her great soliloquy when deciding to slay her\nchildren. There is the same anguish, the same vacillation, the same\naddress to her \u201cpassion\u201d (\u03b8\u03c5\u03bc\u03cc\u03c2). Such a writer is plainly epoch-making:\nhe adds a new feature to tragedy in the life-time of Sophocles. The\nrealism of everyday life and the pangs of conscience battling with\ntemptation\u2014these we are wont to call Euripidean. But some have denied\nthe very existence of Neophron as a dramatist: the fragments are\nfourth-century forgeries, or Euripides brought out a first edition[55]\nof his play under Neophron\u2019s name. Against these views is the great\nauthority of Aristotle,[56] who, however, may have been deceived by\nthe name \u201cNeophron\u201d in official records. An argument natural to modern\nstudents, that a poet of Euripides\u2019 calibre would not have borrowed and\nworked up another\u2019s play, is of doubtful strength. \u00c6schylus, as we have\nseen, probably acted so towards Phrynichus. The best view is probably\nthat of antiquity. We may note that Sicyon is close to Corinth, and that\na legend domestic to the latter city might naturally find its first\ntreatment in a playwright of Sicyon.\n\nARISTARCHUS of Tegea, whose _d\u00e9but_ is to be dated about 453 B.C., is\nsaid by Suidas to have lived for over a hundred years, to have written\nseventy tragedies, two of which won the first prize, and one of which\nwas called _Asclepius_ (a thank-offering for the poet\u2019s recovery from\nan illness), and to have \u201cinitiated the present length of plays\u201d.[57]\nThis latter point sounds important, but it is difficult to understand\nprecisely what Suidas means. For though the average Sophoclean or\nEuripidean tragedy is longer than the \u00c6schylean, Aristarchus began work\nlater than Sophocles and no earlier than Euripides. It has been thought\nthat Suidas refers to the length of dramas in post-Euripidean times, but\nof these we have perhaps no examples.[58] Aristarchus\u2019 reputation was\nslight but enduring. Ennius two and a half centuries later translated\nhis _Achilles_ into Latin; the same work is quoted in the prologue of\nPlautus\u2019 _P\u0153nulus_. A phrase[59] from another play became proverbial.\n\nA more distinguished but probably less important writer was ION of\nChios, son of Orthomenes, who lived between 484 and 421 B.C. A highly\naccomplished man of ample means, he travelled rather widely. In Athens he\nmust have spent considerable time, for he was intimate with Cimon and his\ncircle, and produced plays the number of which is by one authority put at\nforty. Besides tragedy and satyric drama, he wrote comedies, dithyrambs,\nhymns, p\u00e6ans, elegies, epigrams, and scolia. He was, moreover,\ndistinguished in prose writing: we hear of a book on the _Founding of\nChios_, of a philosophic work, and of certain memoirs.[60] This latter\nwork must be a real loss to us, if we may judge from its fragments. In\nthe fifth century B.C. no one but a facile Ionian would have thought it\nworth while to record mere gossip even about the great; for us there is\ngreat charm in an anecdote like that of the literary discussion between\nSophocles and the schoolmaster, or the exclamation of \u00c6schylus at the\nIsthmian Games.[61] Ion would seem to have been less a great poet than\na delightful _belletrist_; the quality is well shown in his remark[62]\nthat life, like a tragic tetralogy, should have a satyric element. One\nyear he obtained a sensational success by winning the first prize both\nfor tragedy and for a dithyramb; to commemorate this he presented to each\nAthenian citizen a cask of Chian wine. He died before 421, the date of\nAristophanes\u2019 _Peace_,[63] wherein he is spoken of as transformed into a\nstar, in allusion to a charming lyric passage of his:\u2014\n\n    \u1f00\u03ce\u03ca\u03bf\u03bd \u1f00\u03b5\u03c1\u03bf\u03c6\u03bf\u03af\u03c4\u03b1\u03bd\n    \u1f00\u03c3\u03c4\u03ad\u03c1\u03b1 \u03bc\u03b5\u03af\u03bd\u03b1\u03bc\u03b5\u03bd \u1f00\u03b5\u03bb\u03af\u03bf\u03c5 \u03bb\u03b5\u03c5\u03ba\u03bf\u03c0\u03c4\u03ad\u03c1\u03c5\u03b3\u03b1 \u03c0\u03c1\u03cc\u03b4\u03c1\u03bf\u03bc\u03bf\u03bd.\n\n\u201cWe awaited the star that wanders through the dawn-lit sky, pale-winged\ncourier of the sun.\u201d\n\nHis tragedies,[64] though they do not appear to have had much effect\non the progress of technique or on public opinion, were popular.\nAristophanes, for instance, nearly twenty years after his death, quotes\na phrase from his _Sentinels_[65] as proverbial, and centuries later the\nauthor of the treatise _On the Sublime_[66] wrote his celebrated verdict:\n\u201cIn lyric poetry would you prefer to be Bacchylides rather than Pindar?\nAnd in tragedy to be Ion of Chios rather than\u2014Sophocles? It is true\nthat Bacchylides and Ion are faultless and entirely elegant writers of\nthe polished school, while Pindar and Sophocles, although at times they\nburn everything before them as it were in their swift career, are often\nextinguished unaccountably and fail most lamentably. But would anyone\nin his senses regard all the compositions of Ion put together as an\nequivalent for the single play of the \u0152dipus?\u201d\n\nACH\u00c6US of Eretria was born in 484 B.C., and exhibited his first play\nat Athens in 447. He won only one first prize though we hear that he\ncomposed over forty plays, nearly half of which are known by name. That\nhe was second only to \u00c6schylus in satyric drama was the opinion held by\nthat delightful philosopher Menedemus[67] the minor Socratic, the seat of\nwhose school was Eretria itself, Ach\u00e6us\u2019 birthplace.\n\nIt has been suggested that the apparent disproportion of satyric plays\nwritten by Ach\u00e6us is to be accounted for by his having written them for\nother poets.[68] He is once copied by Euripides and parodied twice by\nAristophanes.[69] Athen\u00e6us makes an interesting comment on his style:\n\u201cAch\u00e6us of Eretria, though an elegant poet in the structure of his\nplots, occasionally blackens his phrasing and produces many cryptic\nexpressions\u201d.[70] The instance which he gives is significant:\u2014\n\n                        \u03bb\u03b9\u03b8\u03ac\u03c1\u03b3\u03c5\u03c1\u03bf\u03c2 \u03b4\u2019\n    \u1f44\u03bb\u03c0\u03b7 \u03c0\u03b1\u03c1\u03b7\u03c9\u03c1\u03b5\u1fd6\u03c4\u03bf \u03c7\u03c1\u03af\u03c3\u03bc\u03b1\u03c4\u03bf\u03c2 \u03c0\u03bb\u03ad\u03b1\n    \u03c4\u1f78\u03bd \u03a3\u03c0\u03b1\u03c1\u03c4\u03b9\u03ac\u03c4\u03b7\u03bd \u03b3\u03c1\u03b1\u03c0\u03c4\u1f78\u03bd \u1f10\u03bd \u03b4\u03b9\u03c0\u03bb\u1ff7 \u03be\u03cd\u03bb\u1ff3\n    \u03ba\u03cd\u03c1\u03b2\u03b9\u03bd,\n\n\u201cthe cruse of alloyed silver, filled with ointment, swung beside the\nSpartan tablet, double wood inscribed\u201d. That is, \u201che carried an oil-flask\nand a Spartan general\u2019s b\u00e2ton\u201d. Aiming at dignified originality of\ndiction Ach\u00e6us has merely fallen into queerness. On the other side,\nwhen he seeks vigorous realism he becomes quaintly prosaic. In the\n_Philoctetes_, for instance, Agamemnon utters the war-cry \u1f10\u03bb\u03b5\u03bb\u03b5\u03bb\u03b5\u1fe6 in the\nmiddle of an iambic line.\n\nA far more noteworthy dramatist was AGATHON the Athenian, who seems to\nhave impressed his contemporaries, and even the exacting Aristotle, as\ncoming next in merit to the three masters. Born about 446 B.C., he won\nhis first victory in 416 and retired to the Court of the Macedonian\nprince Archelaus some time before the death of Euripides (406). From\ncontemporary evidence we gather that he was popular as a writer and as a\nsocial figure, handsome, and given to voluptuous living.\n\nThree striking innovations are credited to him:\u2014\n\n(i) He produced at least one play of which both the plot and the\ncharacters were invented by himself.[71] The name of this \u201cattractive\u201d\ndrama is uncertain: it may have been _The Flower_ (_Anthos_) or\n_Antheus_. Agathon, here as elsewhere, shows himself a follower of\nEuripides. The master had employed recognized myths as a framework for a\nthoroughly \u201cmodern\u201d treatment of ordinary human interests; his disciple\nfinally throws aside the convention of antiquity.\n\n(ii) Another post-Euripidean feature is the use of musical interludes.\nAristotle tells us: \u201cAs for the later poets, their choral songs pertain\nas little to the subject of the piece as to that of any other tragedy.\nThey are therefore sung as mere interludes\u2014a practice first begun by\nAgathon.\u201d[72] Our poet then is once more found completing a process\nwhich his friend had carried far. Sophocles had diminished the length\nand dramatic importance of the lyrics, but with him they were still\nentirely relevant. Euripides shows a strong tendency to write his odes as\nseparable songs, but complete irrelevance is hardly found. Plays such as\nAgathon\u2019s could obviously be performed, if necessary, without the trouble\nand expense of a chorus, which in process of time altogether disappeared.\nHis interludes served, it seems, more as divisions between \u201cacts\u201d than\nas an integral part of the play. In this connexion should be mentioned\nhis innovation in the accompaniment\u2014the use of \u201cchromatic\u201d or coloured\nstyle.[73] His florid music is laughed at by Aristophanes as \u201cants\u2019\nbye-paths\u201d.[74]\n\n(iii) Occasionally he took a great extent of legend as the topic of a\nsingle drama, and it seems likely[75] that he composed a _Fall of Troy_,\ntaking the whole epic subject instead of an episode. Agathon is trying\nyet another experiment\u2014it was necessary for a writer of his powers to\nvary in some way from Euripides, but this attempt was unsatisfactory.[76]\n\nIn the _Thesmophoriazus\u00e6_ Aristophanes pays Agathon the honour of\nelaborate parody. Euripides comes to beg his friend to plead for him\nbefore an assembly of Athenian women, and the scene in which Agathon\namid much pomp explains the principles of his art, contains definite and\nvaluable criticism under the usual guise of burlesque; that Aristophanes\nvalued him is shown by the affectionate pun on his name which he\nintroduces into the _Frogs_ (v. 84):\u2014\n\n    \u1f00\u03b3\u03b1\u03b8\u1f78\u03c2 \u03c0\u03bf\u03b9\u03b7\u03c4\u1f74\u03c2 \u03ba\u03b1\u1f76 \u03c0\u03bf\u03b8\u03b5\u03b9\u03bd\u1f78\u03c2 \u03c4\u03bf\u1fd6\u03c2 \u03c6\u03af\u03bb\u03bf\u03b9\u03c2,\n\n\u201ca good poet, sorely missed by his friends\u201d. Plato lays the scene of\nhis _Symposium_ in the house of Agathon, who is celebrating his first\ntragic victory; the poet is depicted as a charming host, and, when the\nconversation turns to a series of panegyrics upon the god of Love, offers\na contribution to which we shall return.\n\nFrom these sources we learn as usual little about the poet\u2019s dramatic\nskill, much as to his literary style. But under the first head falls a\nvital remark of Aristotle: \u201cin his reversals of the action (_i.e._ the\n_peripeteia_), however, he shows a marvellous skill in the effort to hit\nthe popular taste\u2014to produce a tragic effect that satisfies the moral\nsense. This effect is produced when the clever rogue, like Sisyphus, is\noutwitted, or the brave villain defeated. Such an event is, moreover,\nprobable in Agathon\u2019s sense of the word: \u2018it is probable,\u2019 he says,\n\u2018that many things should happen contrary to probability\u2019.\u201d[77] Agathon\nbelongs to the class of playwrights who win popularity by bringing down\nto the customary theatrical level the methods and ideas of a genius who\nis himself too undiluted and strange for his contemporaries. Agathon\u2019s\nrelation to Euripides resembles that of (let us say) Mr. St. John Hankin,\nin his later work, to Ibsen. Of his literary style much the same may\nbe said. He loves to moralize on chance and probability and the queer\ntwists of human nature, with Euripides\u2019 knack of neatness but without his\ninsight. Such things as\n\n    \u03bc\u03cc\u03bd\u03bf\u03c5 \u03b3\u1f70\u03c1 \u03b1\u1f50\u03c4\u03bf\u1fe6 \u03ba\u03b1\u1f76 \u03b8\u03b5\u1f78\u03c2 \u03c3\u03c4\u03b5\u03c1\u03af\u03c3\u03ba\u03b5\u03c4\u03b1\u03b9,\n    \u1f00\u03b3\u03ad\u03bd\u03b7\u03c4\u03b1 \u03c0\u03bf\u03b9\u03b5\u1fd6\u03bd \u1f05\u03c3\u03c3\u2019 \u1f02\u03bd \u1f96 \u03c0\u03b5\u03c0\u03c1\u03b1\u03b3\u03bc\u03ad\u03bd\u03b1\n\n\u201cthis alone is beyond the power even of God, to make undone that which\nhas been done,\u201d and even the celebrated \u03c4\u03ad\u03c7\u03bd\u03b7 \u03c4\u03cd\u03c7\u03b7\u03bd \u1f14\u03c3\u03c4\u03b5\u03c1\u03be\u03b5 \u03ba\u03b1\u1f76 \u03c4\u03cd\u03c7\u03b7\n\u03c4\u03ad\u03c7\u03bd\u03b7\u03bd, \u201cskill loves luck, and luck skill,\u201d give the measure of his power\nover epigram. His easy way of expressing simple ideas with admirable\nneatness may remind us of a much greater dramatist\u2014Terence, or, in later\ntimes, of Marivaux.[78]\n\nPlato tells us that he was a pupil both of Prodicus[79] and of\nGorgias,[80] the renowned sophists, and we may trace their teaching\nin the fragments and in the remarkable speech which the greatest\nstylist of all time puts into his mouth in the _Symposium_\u2014the rhymes,\nantitheses, quibbles, and verbal trickiness of argument. The parody,\nboth brilliant and careful, which Aristophanes presents at the opening\nof his _Thesmophoriazus\u00e6_ is directed chiefly perhaps against his music,\nwhereof we have no trace. The blunt auditor, Mnesilochus, describes\nit as lascivious.[81] The words set to it read like a feeble copy of\nEuripides\u2014fluent, copious, nerveless, in spite of the \u201clathe,\u201d the\n\u201cglue,\u201d the \u201cmelting-pot,\u201d and the \u201cmoulds\u201d[82] over which his satirist\nmakes merry.\n\nAgathon, then, marks unmistakably the beginning of decadence. The three\nmasters had exhausted the possibilities of the art open to that age.\nA new impulse from without or the social emancipation of women might\nhave opened new paths of achievement. But no great external influence\nwas to come till Alexander, and then the result for Greece itself was\nloss of independence and vigour. And the little that could be done with\nwomen still in the harem or the slave-market was left to be performed by\nMenander and his fellow-comedians.[83] Agathon made a valiant effort to\ncarry tragedy into new channels, but lacked the genius to leave more than\nclever experiments.\n\nOn a lower plane of achievement stands CRITIAS, the famous leader of\nthe \u201cThirty Tyrants\u201d. Two tragedies from his pen are known to us,\n_Pirithous_[84] and _Sisyphus_, both at one time attributed to Euripides;\nbut he is too doctrinaire, too deficient in brilliant idiomatic ease, for\nsuch a mistake to endure. The _Pirithous_ deals with Heracles\u2019 descent\ninto Hades to rescue Theseus and to demand of Pluto Persephone\u2019s hand\nfor Pirithous. Of this astounding story we find little trace in the\nfragments, which are mostly quasi-philosophical dicta. For instance:\u2014\n\n    A temper sound more stable is than law;\n    The one no politician\u2019s eloquence\n    Can warp, but law by tricks of cunning words\n    Full often is corrupted and unhinged.\n\nIn strong contrast to these prosaic lines is Critias\u2019 superb apostrophe\nto the Creator, which may be paraphrased thus:\u2014\n\n    From all time, O Lord, is thy being; neither is there any that\n    saith, This is my son.\n\n    All that is created, lo, thou hast woven the firmament about\n    it; the heavens revolve, and all that is therein spinneth like\n    a wheel.\n\n    Thou hast girded thyself with light; the gloom of dusk is about\n    thee, even as a garment of netted fire.\n\n    Stars without number dance around thee; they cease not, they\n    move in a measure through thy high places.\n\nFrom the same hymn probably comes the majestic passage which tells of\n\u201cunwearied Time that in full flood ever begets himself, and the Great\nBear and the Less....\u201d\n\nIn apparent contrast to this tone is the remarkable passage, of forty-two\nlines, from the _Sisyphus_. It is a purely rationalistic account of\nreligion. First human life was utterly brutish: there were no rewards\nfor righteousness, no punishment of evil-doers. Then law was set up,\nthat justice might be sovereign; but this device only added furtiveness\nto sin. Finally, \u201csome man of shrewdness and wisdom ... introduced\nreligion\u201d (or \u201cthe conception of God,\u201d \u03c4\u1f78 \u03b8\u03b5\u1fd6\u03bf\u03bd), so that even in secret\nthe wicked might be restrained by fear. The contradiction between these\ntwo plays is illusory: Critias combines with disbelief in the personal\nGreek gods belief in an impersonal First Cause. It is too often forgotten\nthat among the \u201cThirty Tyrants\u201d were men of strong religious principles.\nThe democratic writers of Athens loved to depict them as mercenary\nbutchers, but it is plain from the casual testimony of Lysias[85] that\nthey looked upon themselves as moral reformers. \u201cThey _said_ that it was\ntheir business to purge the city of wicked men, and turn the rest of\nthe citizens to righteousness and self-restraint.\u201d Such passages read\nlike quotations from men who would inaugurate a \u201crule of the saints,\u201d\nand if their severities surpassed those of the English Puritans, they\nwere themselves outdone by the cruelty which sternly moral leaders of\nthe French Revolution not only condoned but initiated. Critias was the\nAthenian Robespierre. But the one revolution was the reverse of the\nother. The _r\u00e9gime_ of the Thirty was a last violent effort of the\nAthenian oligarchs to stem the tide of ochlocracy, to induce some\nself-discipline into the freedom of Athens. They failed, and Critias was\njustified on the field of Ch\u00e6ronea.\n\nThe most successful tragic playwright of the fourth century was\nASTYDAMAS, whose history furnishes good evidence that after the\ndisappearance of Euripides and Sophocles the Greek genius was incapable\nof carrying tragedy into new developments. While prose could boast such\nnames as Plato and Demosthenes, the tragic art found no greater exponent\nthan this Astydamas, of whose numerous plays nothing is left save nine\nodd lines. There were, moreover, two Astydamantes, father and son, whose\nworks (scarcely known save by name) it is difficult to distinguish. But\nit seems that it was the son whose popularity was so great as to win him\nfifteen first prizes and an honour before unknown. His _Parthenop\u00e6us_\nwon such applause in 340 B.C. that the Athenians set up a brazen statue\nof the playwright in the theatre; it was not till ten years later that\nthe orator Lycurgus persuaded them to accord a like honour to the three\nMasters. We learn from Aristotle[86] that Astydamas altered the story of\nAlcm\u00e6on, causing him to slay his mother in ignorance; and Plutarch[87]\nalludes to his _Hector_ as one of the greatest plays. He was nothing more\nthan a capable writer who caught the taste of his time, and probably owed\nmuch of his popularity to the excellence of his actors.\n\nOnly one fact is known about POLYIDUS \u201cthe sophist,\u201d but that is\nsufficiently impressive. Aristotle twice[88] takes the Recognition-scene\nin his _Iphigenia_ as an example, and in the second instance actually\ncompares the work of Polyidus with one of Euripides\u2019 most wonderful\nsuccesses\u2014the Recognition-scene in the _Iphigenia in Tauris_. It appears\nthat as Orestes was led away to slaughter he exclaimed: \u201cAh! So I was\nfated, like my sister, to be sacrificed.\u201d This catches the attention\nof Iphigenia and saves his life. Polyidus here undoubtedly executed a\nbrilliant _coup de th\u00e9\u00e2tre_.\n\nDuring the fourth century many tragedians wrote not for public\nperformance but for readers. Of these \u1f00\u03bd\u03b1\u03b3\u03bd\u03c9\u03c3\u03c4\u03b9\u03ba\u03bf\u03af[89] the most\ncelebrated was CH\u00c6REMON, of whom sufficient fragments and notices\nsurvive to give a distinct literary portrait. Comic poets ridiculed his\npreciosity: he called water \u201criver\u2019s body,\u201d ivy \u201cthe year\u2019s child,\u201d\nand loved word-play: \u03c0\u03c1\u1f76\u03bd \u03b3\u1f70\u03c1 \u03c6\u03c1\u03bf\u03bd\u03b5\u1fd6\u03bd \u03b5\u1f56 \u03ba\u03b1\u03c4\u03b1\u03c6\u03c1\u03bf\u03bd\u03b5\u1fd6\u03bd \u1f10\u03c0\u03af\u03c3\u03c4\u03b1\u03c3\u03b1\u03b9.[90]\nBut though a sophisticated attention to style led him into such frigid\nmannerisms, he can express ideas with a brief Euripidean cogency: perhaps\nnothing outside the work of the great masters was more often quoted in\nantiquity than his dictum \u201cHuman life is luck, not discretion\u201d\u2014\u03c4\u03cd\u03c7\u03b7 \u03c4\u1f70\n\u03b8\u03bd\u03b7\u03c4\u1ff6\u03bd \u03c0\u03c1\u03ac\u03b3\u03bc\u03b1\u03c4\u2019, \u03bf\u1f50\u03ba \u03b5\u1f50\u03b2\u03bf\u03c5\u03bb\u03af\u03b1.\n\nThe only technical peculiarity attributed to him is the play _Centaur_,\nif play it was. Athen\u00e6us calls it a \u201cdrama in many metres,\u201d[91] while\nAristotle[92] uses the word \u201crhapsody,\u201d implying epic quality. It may be\nthat the epic or narrative manner was used side by side with the dramatic\nin the manner of Bunyan. Here is another proof that by the time of\nEuripides tragedy had really attained its full development. Attempts at\nnew departures in technique are all abortive after his day.\n\nA delightful point which emerges again and again is Ch\u00e6remon\u2019s passion\nfor flowers. From _Thyestes_ come two phrases\u2014\u201cthe sheen of roses mingled\nwith silver lilies,\u201d and \u201cstrewing around the children of flowering\nspring\u201d\u2014which indicate, as do many others, Ch\u00e6remon\u2019s love of colour and\nsensuous loveliness. It was his desire to express all the details of what\npleased his eye that led him into preciosity\u2014a laboured embroidery which\nrecalls Keats\u2019 less happy efforts. But he can go beyond mere mannerism. A\nsplendid fragment of his _\u0152neus_ shows Ch\u00e6remon at his best: it describes\nthe half-nude beauty of girls sleeping in the moonlight. One can hardly\nbelieve that Ch\u00e6remon belonged to the fourth century and was studied by\nAristotle. In this passage, despite its voluptuous dilettantism, there\nis a sense of physical beauty, above all of colour and sensuous detail,\nwhich was unknown since Pindar, and is not to be found again, even in\nTheocritus, till we come to the Greek novelists. In one marvellous\nsentence, too, he passes beyond mere prettiness to poetry, expressing\nwith perfect mastery the truth that the sight of beauty is the surest\nincentive to chastity: \u03ba\u1f00\u03be\u03b5\u03c0\u03b5\u03c3\u03c6\u03c1\u03b1\u03b3\u03af\u03b6\u03b5\u03c4\u03bf \u1f65\u03c1\u03b1\u03c2 \u03b3\u03b5\u03bb\u03ce\u03c3\u03b7\u03c2 \u03c7\u03c9\u03c1\u1f76\u03c2 \u1f10\u03bb\u03c0\u03af\u03b4\u03c9\u03bd \u1f14\u03c1\u03c9\u03c2:\u2014\n\n            Love, his passion quelled by awe,\n    Printed his smiling soul on all he saw.\n\nIt is the idea which Meredith has voiced so magically in _Love in the\nValley_:\u2014\n\n    Love that so desires would fain keep her changeless,\n    Fain would fling the net, and fain have her free.\n\nThat Greek literature has progressed far towards the self-conscious\nAlexandrian search for charm can nevertheless be observed if we\ncompare this passage from Ch\u00e6remon with the analogous description\nin Euripides\u2019 _Bacch\u00e6_[93] (which no doubt suggested it). There the\nsame general impression, and far more \u201catmosphere,\u201d is given with no\nvoluptuous details: \u03b8\u03b1\u1fe6\u03bc\u2019 \u1f30\u03b4\u03b5\u1fd6\u03bd \u03b5\u1f50\u03ba\u03bf\u03c3\u03bc\u03af\u03b1\u03c2\u2014\u201ca marvel of grace for the\neye to behold\u201d\u2014is his nearest approach to Ch\u00e6remon\u2019s elaboration. If,\nas has been well said,[94] one may compare the three Masters to Giotto,\nRaffaelle, and Correggio respectively, then Ch\u00e6remon finds his parallel\namong the French painters; he reminds one not so much of the handsome\nsensuality of Boucher as of that more seductive _simplesse_ in which\nGreuze excelled.\n\nA curious figure in this history is DIONYSIUS the Elder, tyrant of\nSyracuse from 405-367 B.C. Like Frederick the Great of Prussia, not\nsatisfied with political and military glory, he aspired to literary\ntriumphs. With a pathetic hero-worship he purchased and treasured the\ndesk of \u00c6schylus, and similar objects which had belonged to Euripides,\nhoping (says Lucian[95]) to gain inspiration from them. The prince\nfrequently tried his fortune at the dramatic contests in Athens, but for\nlong without success, and naturally became a butt of the Attic wits, who\nparticularly relished his moral aphorisms (such as \u201ctyranny is the mother\nof injustice\u201d!); Eubulus devoted a whole comedy to his tragic _confr\u00e8re_.\nIn 367 B.C. he heard with joy that at last the first prize had fallen to\nhim at the Len\u00e6a for _Hector\u2019s Ransom_; gossip said that his death in the\nsame year was due to the paroxysms of gratified vanity. Little is known\nabout the contents of his dramas, but we hear that one play was an attack\nupon the philosopher Plato. In other works, too, he appears to have\ndiscussed his personal interests. Lucian preserves the bald verse:\u2014\n\n    Doris, Dionysius\u2019 spouse, has passed away,\n\nand the astonishing remark:\u2014\n\n    Alas! alas! a useful wife I\u2019ve lost.\n\nBut one may be misjudging him. Perhaps by \u201cuseful\u201d (\u03c7\u03c1\u03b7\u03c3\u03af\u03bc\u03b7\u03bd) he meant\n\u201cgood\u201d (\u03c7\u03c1\u03b7\u03c3\u03c4\u03ae\u03bd); Dionysius had a curious fad for using words, not in\ntheir accepted sense, but according to real or fancied etymology.[96]\n\nAncient critics set great store by CARCINUS, the most distinguished of a\nfamily long connected with the theatre. One hundred and sixty plays are\nattributed to him, and eleven victories. He spent some time at the court\nof the younger Dionysius, the Syracusan tyrant, and his longest fragment\ndeals with the Sicilian worship of Demeter and Persephone. We possess\ncertain interesting facts about his plots. Aristotle[97] as an instance\nof the first type of Recognition\u2014that by signs\u2014mentions among those which\nare congenital \u201cthe stars introduced by Carcinus in his _Thyestes_\u201d\n(evidently birthmarks). More striking is a later paragraph:[98] \u201cIn\nconstructing the plot and working it out with the proper diction, the\npoet should place the scene, as far as possible, before his eyes.... The\nneed of such a rule is shown by the fault found in Carcinus. Amphiaraus\nwas on his way from the temple. This fact escaped the observation of one\nwho did not see the situation. On the stage, however, the piece failed,\nthe audience being offended at the oversight.\u201d This shows incidentally\nhow little assistance an ancient dramatist obtained from that now\nvital collaborator, the rehearsal. In the _Medea_[99] of Carcinus the\nheroine, unlike the Euripidean, did not slay her children but sent them\naway. Their disappearance caused the Corinthians to accuse her of their\nmurder, and she defended herself by an ingenious piece of rhetorical\nlogic: \u201cSuppose that I _had_ killed them. Then it would have been a\nblunder not to slay their father Jason also. This you know I have not\ndone. Hence I have not murdered my children either.\u201d Just as Carcinus\nthere smoothed away what was felt to be too dreadful in Euripides, so in\n_\u0152dipus_ he appears[100] to have dealt with the improbabilities which\ncling to _\u0152dipus Tyrannus_. He excelled, moreover, in the portrayal of\npassion: Cercyon, struggling with horrified grief in Carcinus\u2019 _Alope_,\nis cited by Aristotle.[101] The _\u00c6rope_ too had sensational success.\nThat bloodthirsty savage Alexander, tyrant of Pher\u00e6, was so moved by the\nemotion wherewith the actor Theodorus performed his part, that he burst\ninto tears.[102]\n\nTwo points in his actual fragments strike a modern reader. The first\nis a curious flatness of style noticeable in the one fairly long\npassage; every word seems to be a second-best. The opening lines will be\nsufficient:\u2014\n\n    \u03bb\u03ad\u03b3\u03bf\u03c5\u03c3\u03b9 \u0394\u03ae\u03bc\u03b7\u03c4\u03c1\u03cc\u03c2 \u03c0\u03bf\u03c4\u2019 \u1f04\u03c1\u03c1\u03b7\u03c4\u03bf\u03bd \u03ba\u03cc\u03c1\u03b7\u03bd\n    \u03a0\u03bb\u03bf\u03cd\u03c4\u03c9\u03bd\u03b1 \u03ba\u03c1\u03c5\u03c6\u03af\u03bf\u03b9\u03c2 \u1f01\u03c1\u03c0\u03ac\u03c3\u03b1\u03b9 \u03b2\u03bf\u03c5\u03bb\u03b5\u03cd\u03bc\u03b1\u03c3\u03b9,\n    \u03b4\u1fe6\u03bd\u03b1\u03af \u03c4\u03b5 \u03b3\u03b1\u03af\u03b1\u03c2 \u03b5\u1f30\u03c2 \u03bc\u03b5\u03bb\u03b1\u03bc\u03c6\u03b1\u03b5\u1fd6\u03c2 \u03bc\u03c5\u03c7\u03bf\u03cd\u03c2.\n    \u03c0\u03cc\u03b8\u1ff3 \u03b4\u1f72 \u03bc\u03b7\u03c4\u03ad\u03c1\u2019 \u1f20\u03c6\u03b1\u03bd\u03b9\u03c3\u03bc\u03ad\u03bd\u03b7\u03c2 \u03ba\u03cc\u03c1\u03b7\u03c2\n    \u03bc\u03b1\u03c3\u03c4\u1fc6\u03c1\u2019 \u1f10\u03c0\u03b5\u03bb\u03b8\u03b5\u1fd6\u03bd \u03c0\u1fb6\u03c3\u03b1\u03bd \u1f10\u03bd \u03ba\u03cd\u03ba\u03bb\u1ff3 \u03c7\u03b8\u03cc\u03bd\u03b1.\n\nTo turn from this dingy verbiage to his amazing brilliance in epigram\nis like passing from an auctioneer\u2019s showroom into a lighthouse. (The\ndifference, we note, is between narrative and \u201crhetoric\u201d.) Such a\nsentence as \u03bf\u1f50\u03b4\u03b5\u1f76\u03c2 \u1f14\u03c0\u03b1\u03b9\u03bd\u03bf\u03bd \u1f21\u03b4\u03bf\u03bd\u03b1\u1fd6\u03c2 \u1f10\u03ba\u03c4\u03ae\u03c3\u03b1\u03c4\u03bf (\u201cno man ever won praise by\nhis pleasures\u201d) positively bewilders by its glitter. It is perhaps not\nabsolutely perfect: its miraculous ease might allow a careless reader to\npass it by; but that is a defect which Carcinus shares with most masters\nof epigram, notably with Terence and Congreve. More substantial is the\nwit of this fragment:\u2014\n\n    \u03c7\u03b1\u03af\u03c1\u03c9 \u03c3\u2019 \u1f41\u03c1\u1ff6\u03bd \u03c6\u03b8\u03bf\u03bd\u03bf\u1fe6\u03bd\u03c4\u03b1, \u03c4\u03bf\u1fe6\u03c4\u2019 \u03b5\u1f30\u03b4\u03ce\u03c2, \u1f45\u03c4\u03b9\n    \u1f13\u03bd \u03b4\u03c1\u1fb7 \u03bc\u03cc\u03bd\u03bf\u03bd \u03b4\u03af\u03ba\u03b1\u03b9\u03bf\u03bd \u1f67\u03bd \u03c0\u03bf\u03b9\u03b5\u1fd6 \u03c6\u03b8\u03cc\u03bd\u03bf\u03c2\u00b7\n    \u03bb\u03c5\u03c0\u03b5\u1fd6 \u03b3\u1f70\u03c1 \u03b1\u1f50\u03c4\u03cc\u03c7\u03c1\u03b7\u03bc\u03b1 \u03c4\u03bf\u1f7a\u03c2 \u03ba\u03b5\u03ba\u03c4\u03b7\u03bc\u03ad\u03bd\u03bf\u03c5\u03c2.\n\n\u201cI rejoice to see that you harbour spite, for I know that of all its\neffects there is one that is just\u2014it straightway stings those who cherish\nit.\u201d One notices the exquisite skill which has inserted the second line,\nserving admirably to prepare for and throw into relief the vigorous third\nverse.\n\nTHEODECTES of Phaselis enjoyed a brilliant career. During his forty-one\nyears he was a pupil of Plato, Isocrates, and Aristotle, obtained great\ndistinction as an orator (Cicero[103] praises him), produced fifty plays,\nand obtained the first prize at eight of the thirteen contests in which\nhe competed. Alexander the Great decked his statue with garlands in\nmemory of the days when they had studied together under Aristotle. That\nphilosopher quotes him several times, and in particular pays Theodectes\nthe high honour of coupling him with Sophocles; the examples which he\ngives[104] of _peripeteia_ are the _\u0152dipus Tyrannus_ and the _Lynceus_ of\nTheodectes. The same drama is used[105] to exemplify another vital point,\nthe difference between Complication and _D\u00e9nouement_.\n\nHe was doubtless a brilliantly able man and a popular dramatist with\na notable talent for concocting plots. But all that we can now see in\nhis remains is a feeble copy of Euripides, though he was, to be sure,\naudacious enough to place Philoctetes\u2019 wound in the hand instead of\nthe foot\u2014for the sake of gracefulness, one may imagine. For the rest,\nwe possess a curious speech made by some one ignorant of letters, who\ndescribes[106] as a picture the name \u201cTheseus\u201d\u2014this idea is taken bodily\nfrom Euripides\u2014and sundry sententious remarks, one of which surely\ndeserves immortality as reaching the limit of pompous common-place:\u2014\n\n    Widely through Greece hath this tradition spread\n    O aged man, and ancient is the saw:\n    The hap of mortals is uncertain ever.\n\nMention should be made of DIOGENES and CRATES the philosophers, who wrote\nplays not for production, but for the study, as propagandist pamphlets.\nThey may none the less have been excellent plays, like the _Justice_ of\nMr. Galsworthy. Very little remains on which an opinion can be founded.\nOne vigorous line of Diogenes catches the attention: \u201cI would rather have\na drop of luck than a barrel of brains\u201d.[107]\n\nA more remarkable dramatist was MOSCHION, whose precise importance it\nis hard to estimate, though he is deeply interesting to the historian\nof tragedy. For on the one hand, he was probably not popular\u2014nothing\nis known of his life,[108] and Stob\u00e6us is practically the only writer\nwho quotes him. On the other hand, he is the one Greek poet known to\nhave practised definitely the historical type of drama. Moschion is of\ncourse not alone in selecting actual events for his theme. Long before\nhis day Phrynichus had produced his _Ph\u0153niss\u00e6_ and _The Capture of\nMiletus_, \u00c6schylus his _Pers\u00e6_; and his contemporary Theodectes composed\na tragedy _Mausolus_ in glorification of the deceased king of Caria.\nBut all four were _pi\u00e8ces d\u2019occasion_. Moschion alone practised genuine\nhistorical drama: he went according to custom into the past for his\nmaterial, but chose great events of real history, not legend.[109] His\n_Themistocles_ dealt with the battle of Salamis; we possess one brief\nremnant thereof, in which (as it seems) a messenger compares the victory\nof the small Greek force to the devastation wrought by a small axe in a\ngreat pine-forest. _The Men of Pher\u00e6_ appears[110] to have depicted the\nbrutality of Alexander, prince of Pher\u00e6, who refused burial to Polyphron.\n\nThese \u201cburial-passages\u201d include Moschion\u2019s most remarkable fragment,\na fine description in thirty-three lines describing the rise of\ncivilization. The versification is undesirably smooth\u2014throughout there\nis not a single resolved foot. Like a circumspect rationalist, Moschion\noffers three alternative reasons, favouring none, for the progress\nmade by man: some great teacher such as Prometheus, the Law of Nature\n(\u1f00\u03bd\u03ac\u03b3\u03ba\u03b7), the long slow experience (\u03c4\u03c1\u03b9\u03b2\u03ae) of the whole race. His style\nhere is vigorous but uneven; after dignified lines which somewhat recall\n\u00c6schylus we find a sudden drop to bald prose: \u1f41 \u03b4\u2019 \u1f00\u03c3\u03b8\u03b5\u03bd\u1f74\u03c2 \u1f26\u03bd \u03c4\u1ff6\u03bd\n\u1f00\u03bc\u03b5\u03b9\u03bd\u03cc\u03bd\u03c9\u03bd \u03b2\u03bf\u03c1\u03ac:[111] \u201cthe weak were the food of the strong\u201d.\n\nIt is convenient to mention here a remarkable satyric drama, produced\nabout 324 B.C., the _Agen_,[112] of which seventeen consecutive lines\nsurvive. This play was produced during the Dionysiac festival in the camp\nof Alexander on the banks of the Hydaspes or Jhelum, in the Punjaub. Its\nsubject was the escapades of Harpalus, who had revolted from Alexander\nand fled to Athens. The author is said[113] to have been either Python\nof Catana or Byzantium, or the Great Alexander himself. No doubt it was\nan elaborate \u201csquib\u201d full of racy topical allusions. Were it not that\nAthen\u00e6us calls it a \u201csatyric playlet\u201d[114] we might take the fragment\nas part of a comedy. But about this time satyric drama tended to become\na form of personal attack\u2014a dramatic \u201csatire\u201d. Thus one Mimnermus,\nwhose date is unknown, wrote a play against doctors[115]; Lycophron and\nSositheus, both members of the Alexandrian \u201cPleiad,\u201d attacked individual\nphilosophers, the former writing a _Menedemus_ which satirized the\ngluttony and drunkenness of the amiable founder of the Eretrian school,\nthe latter ridiculing the disciples whom the \u201cfolly of Cleanthes\u201d\ndrove like cattle\u2014an insult which the audience resented and damned the\nplay.[116]\n\nThe third century saw a great efflorescence of theatrical activity in\nAlexandria. Under Ptolemy II (285-247 B.C.), that city became the centre\nof world-culture as it already was of commerce. All artistic forms were\nprotected and rewarded with imperial liberality. The great library\nbecame one of the wonders of the world, and the Dionysiac festivals\nwere performed with sedulous magnificence. Among the many writers of\ntragedy seven were looked on as forming a class by themselves\u2014the famous\nPleiad (\u201cThe Constellation of Seven\u201d). Only five names of these are\ncertain\u2014Philiscus, Homerus, Alexander, Lycophron, and Sositheus; for\nthe other two \u201cchairs\u201d various names are found in our authorities:\nSosiphanes, Dionysiades, \u00c6antides, Euphronius. Nor can we be sure that\nall these men worked at Alexandria.[117] That the splendour of the city\nand Ptolemy\u2019s magnificent patronage should have drawn the leading men of\nart, letters, and science to the world\u2019s centre, is a natural assumption\nand indeed the fact: Theocritus the idyllist, Euclid the geometer,\nCallimachus the poet and scholar, certainly lived there. Of the Pleiad,\nonly three are known to have worked in Alexandria: Lycophron, to whom\nPtolemy entrusted that section of the royal library which embraced\nComedy, Alexander, who superintended Tragedy, and Philiscus the priest\nof Dionysus. Homerus may have passed all his career in Byzantium, which\nlater possessed a statue of him, and Sositheus was apparently active at\nAthens.\n\nLYCOPHRON\u2019S _Menedemus_ has already been mentioned. His fame now rests\nupon the extant poem _Alexandra_, in high repute both in ancient and in\nmodern times for its obscurity. But SOSITHEUS is the most interesting of\nthe galaxy. We may still read twenty-one lines from his satyric drama\n_Daphnis_ or _Lityerses_, describing with grim vigour the ghoulish\nharvester Lityerses who made his visitors reap with him, finally\nbeheading them and binding up the corpses in sheaves. Sositheus made his\nmark, indeed, less in tragedy than in satyric writing: he turned from\nthe tendency of his day which made this genre a form of satire, and went\nback to the antique manner. SOSIPHANES, finally, deserves mention for a\nremarkable fragment:\u2014\n\n    \u1f66 \u03b4\u03c5\u03c3\u03c4\u03c5\u03c7\u03b5\u1fd6\u03c2 \u03bc\u1f72\u03bd \u03c0\u03bf\u03bb\u03bb\u03ac, \u03c0\u03b1\u1fe6\u03c1\u03b1 \u03b4\u2019 \u1f44\u03bb\u03b2\u03b9\u03bf\u03b9\n    \u03b2\u03c1\u03bf\u03c4\u03bf\u03af, \u03c4\u03af \u03c3\u03b5\u03bc\u03bd\u03cd\u03bd\u03b5\u03c3\u03b8\u03b5 \u03c4\u03b1\u1fd6\u03c2 \u1f10\u03be\u03bf\u03c5\u03c3\u03af\u03b1\u03b9\u03c2,\n    \u1f03\u03c2 \u1f15\u03bd \u03c4\u2019 \u1f14\u03b4\u03c9\u03ba\u03b5 \u03c6\u03ad\u03b3\u03b3\u03bf\u03c2 \u1f15\u03bd \u03c4\u2019 \u1f00\u03c6\u03b5\u03af\u03bb\u03b5\u03c4\u03bf;\n    \u1f22\u03bd \u03b4\u2019 \u03b5\u1f50\u03c4\u03c5\u03c7\u1fc6\u03c4\u03b5, \u03bc\u03b7\u03b4\u1f72\u03bd \u1f44\u03bd\u03c4\u03b5\u03c2 \u03b5\u1f50\u03b8\u03ad\u03c9\u03c2\n    \u1f34\u03c3\u2019 \u03bf\u1f50\u03c1\u03b1\u03bd\u1ff7 \u03c6\u03c1\u03bf\u03bd\u03b5\u1fd6\u03c4\u03b5, \u03c4\u1f78\u03bd \u03b4\u1f72 \u03ba\u03cd\u03c1\u03b9\u03bf\u03bd\n    \u0391\u1f35\u03b4\u03b7\u03bd \u03c0\u03b1\u03c1\u03b5\u03c3\u03c4\u1ff6\u03c4\u2019 \u03bf\u1f50\u03c7 \u1f41\u03c1\u1fb6\u03c4\u03b5 \u03c0\u03bb\u03b7\u03c3\u03af\u03bf\u03bd.\n\n\u201cO mortal men, whose misery is so manifold, whose joys so few, why plume\nyourselves on power which one day gives and one day destroys? If ye find\nprosperity, straightway, though ye are naught, your pride rises high\nas heaven, and ye see not your master death at your elbow\u201d\u2014a curiously\nclose parallel with the celebrated outburst in _Measure for Measure_. We\nobserve the Euripidean versification, though Sosiphanes \u201cflourished\u201d two\ncenturies[118] after the master\u2019s birth, and though between the two, in\nmen like Moschion, Carcinus, and Ch\u00e6remon, we find distinct flatness of\nversification. The fourth-century poets, however second-rate, were still\nworking with originality of style: Sosiphanes belongs to an age which\nhas begun not so much to respect as to worship the great models. He sets\nhimself to copy Euripides, and his iambics are naturally \u201cbetter\u201d than\nMoschion\u2019s, as are those written by numerous able scholars of our own day.\n\nAfter the era of the Pleiad, Greek tragedy for us to all intents and\npurposes comes to an end. New dramas seem to have been produced down to\nthe time of Hadrian, who died in A.D. 138, and theatrical entertainments\nwere immensely popular throughout later antiquity, as vase-paintings\nshow, besides countless allusions in literature. But our fragments are\nexceedingly meagre. One tragedy has been preserved by its subject\u2014the\nfamous _Christus Patiens_ (\u03a7\u03c1\u03b9\u03c3\u03c4\u1f78\u03c2 \u03a0\u03ac\u03c3\u03c7\u03c9\u03bd), which portrayed the Passion.\nIt is the longest and the worst of all Greek plays, and consists largely\nof a repellent _cento_\u2014snippets from Euripides pieced together and eked\nout by bad iambics of the author\u2019s own. The result is traditionally, but\nwrongly, attributed to Gregory of Nazianzus (born probably in A.D. 330).\nIts only value is that it is often useful in determining the text of\nEuripides. It would be useless to enumerate all the poetasters of these\nlater centuries whose names are recorded.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nIn this chapter we have constantly referred to the _Poetic_ of Aristotle,\nand it will be well at this point to summarize his view of the nature,\nparts, and aim of tragedy. Before doing so, however, we must be clear\nupon two points: the standpoint of his criticism and the value of his\nevidence. It was long the habit to take this work as a kind of Bible of\npoetical criticism, to accept with blind devotion any statements made\ntherein, or even alleged[119] to be made therein, as constituting rules\nfor all playwrights for ever. Now, as to the former point, the nature\nof his criticism, it is simply to explain how good tragedies were as a\nfact written. He takes the work of contemporary and earlier playwrights,\nand in the light of this, together with his own strong common sense,\n\u00e6sthetic sensibility, and private temperament, tells how he himself (for\nexample) would write a tragedy. On the one hand, could he have read\n_Macbeth_ then, he would have condemned it; on the other, could he read\nit now as a modern man, he would approve it. As to the second point, the\nvalue of his evidence, we must distinguish carefully between the facts\nwhich he reports and his comment thereon. The latter we should study with\nthe respect due to his vast merits; but he is not infallible. When, for\ninstance, he writes that \u201ceven a woman may be good, and also a slave;\nthough the woman may be said to be an inferior being, and the slave quite\nworthless,\u201d[120] and blames Euripides because \u201cIphigenia the suppliant\nin no way resembles her later self,\u201d[121] we shall regard him less as\nhelping us than as dating himself. But as to the objective facts which\nhe records he must be looked on as for us infallible.[122] He lived in\nor close to the periods of which he writes; he commanded a vast array of\ndocuments now lost to us; he was strongly desirous of ascertaining the\nfacts; his temperament and method were keenly scientific, his industry\nprodigious. We may, and should, discuss his opinions; his facts we cannot\ndispute. The reader will be able to appreciate for himself the statement\nwhich follows.\n\nAristotle\u2019s definition of tragedy runs thus: \u201cTragedy, then, is an\nimitation of an action that is serious, complete, and of a certain\nmagnitude; in language embellished with each kind of artistic ornament,\nthe several kinds being found in separate parts of the play; in the form\nof action, not of narrative; through pity and fear effecting the proper\npurgation of these emotions\u201d.[123] Adequate discussion of this celebrated\npassage is here impossible; only two points can be made. Firstly, the\ndefinition plainly applies to Greek Tragedy alone and as understood by\nAristotle: we observe the omission of what seems to us vital\u2014the fact\nthat tragedy depicts the collision of opposing principles as conveyed by\nthe collision of personalities\u2014and the insertion of Greek peculiarities\nsince, as he goes on to explain, by \u201clanguage embellished\u201d he means\nlanguage which includes song. Secondly, the famous dictum concerning\n\u201cpurgation\u201d (_catharsis_) is now generally understood as meaning, not\n\u201cpurification\u201d or \u201cedification\u201d of our pity and fear, but as a medical\nmetaphor signifying that these emotions are purged out of our spirit.\n\nFurther light on the nature of tragedy he gives by comparing it with\nthree other classes of literature. \u201cComedy aims at representing men as\nworse, Tragedy as better than in actual life.\u201d[124] In another place he\ncontrasts tragedy with history: \u201cIt is not the function of the poet to\nrelate what has happened, but what may happen\u2014what is possible according\nto the law of probability or necessity. The poet and the historian differ\nnot by writing in verse or in prose.... The true difference is that one\nrelates what has happened, the other what may happen. Poetry, therefore,\nis a more philosophical and a higher thing than history: for poetry tends\nto express the universal, history the particular.\u201d[125] Our imperfect\ntext of the treatise ends with a more elaborate comparison between\nTragedy and Epic, wherein Aristotle combats the contemporary view[126]\nthat \u201cepic poetry is addressed to a cultivated audience, who do not need\ngesture; Tragedy to an inferior public. Being then unrefined, it is\nevidently the lower of the two.\u201d His own verdict is that, since tragedy\nhas all the epic elements, adds to these music and scenic effects, shows\nvividness in reading as well as in representation, attains its end within\nnarrower limits, and shows greater unity of effect, it is the higher\nart.[127]\n\nIn various portions of the _Poetic_ he gives us the features of Tragedy,\nfollowing three independent lines of analysis:\u2014\n\n\u00a7 I. On the \u00e6sthetic line he discusses the _elements_ of a tragedy: plot,\ncharacter, thought, diction, scenery, and song. Of the last three he has\nlittle to say. But on one of them he makes an interesting remark. \u201cThird\nin order is Thought\u2014that is, the faculty of saying what is possible\nand pertinent in given circumstances.... The older poets made their\ncharacters speak the language of civic life; the poets of our time, the\nlanguage of the rhetoricians.\u201d[128] This prophesies from afar of Seneca\nand his like. As for character, it must be good, appropriate, true to\nlife, and consistent.\n\nConcerning Plot, which he rightly calls \u201cthe soul of a tragedy,\u201d[129]\nAristotle is of course far more copious. The salient points alone can be\nset down here:\u2014\n\n(_a_) \u201cThe proper magnitude is comprised within such limits, that the\nsequence of events, according to the law of probability or necessity,\nwill admit of a change from bad fortune to good, or from good fortune to\nbad.\u201d[130]\n\n(_b_) \u201cThe plot ... must imitate one action and that a whole, the\nstructural union of the parts being such that if anyone of them is\ndisplaced or removed, the whole will be disjointed and disturbed.\u201d[131]\nA tragedy must be an organism. It therefore follows that \u201cof all plots\nand actions the episodic are the worst ... in which the episodes or acts\nsucceed one another without probable or necessary sequence\u201d.[132] He is\nrecommending the \u201cUnity of Action\u201d.\n\n(_c_) \u201cPlots are either Simple or Complex.... An action ... I call\nSimple, when the change of fortune takes place without Reversal (or\nRecoil) of the Action and without Recognition. A Complex Action is one\nin which the change is accompanied by such Reversal, or by Recognition,\nor by both.\u201d[133] Reversal we shall meet again. By Recognition Aristotle\nmeans not merely such Recognition-scenes as we find in the crisis of\nthe _Iphigenia in Tauris_ (though such are the best) but \u201ca change from\nignorance to knowledge, producing love or hate between the persons\ndestined by the poet for good or bad fortune\u201d.[134]\n\n(_d_) \u201cTwo parts, then, of the plot\u2014Reversal and Recognition\u2014turn upon\nsurprises. A third part is the Tragic Incident. The Tragic Incident is a\ndistinctive or painful action, such as death on the stage, bodily agony,\nwounds, and the like.\u201d[135] In the words \u201cdeath on the stage\u201d\u2014or \u201cbefore\nthe audience\u201d (the phrase[136] has no bearing on the stage-controversy),\nAristotle casually but completely overthrows another critical convention,\nthat in ancient Tragedy deaths take place only \u201cbehind the scenes\u201d. In\nthe extant plays, not only do Alcestis and Hippolytus \u201cdie on the stage\u201d\nin their litters, but Ajax falls upon his sword.\n\n(_e_) The best subject of Tragedy is the change from good fortune to\nbad in the life of some eminent man not conspicuously good and just,\nwhose misfortune, however, is due not to wickedness but to some error or\nweakness.[137]\n\n(_f_) The poet \u201cmay not indeed destroy the framework of the received\nlegends\u2014the fact, for instance, that Clyt\u00e6mnestra was slain by Orestes\nand Eriphyle by Alcm\u00e6on\u2014but he ought to show invention of his own, and\nskilfully handle the traditional material\u201d.[138] This injunction was\nobeyed beforehand by all the three Athenian masters; it is especially\nimportant to remember it when studying Euripides.\n\n(_g_) \u201cThe unravelling of the plot ... must arise out of the plot\nitself; it must not be brought about by the _Deus ex Machina_, as in\nthe Medea.... The _Deus ex Machina_ should be employed only for events\nexternal to the drama\u2014for antecedent or subsequent events, which lie\nbeyond the range of human knowledge.\u201d[139] This vital criticism will be\nconsidered later, when we discuss the _Philoctetes_[140] of Sophocles and\nthe Euripidean drama.[141]\n\n(_h_) \u201cWithin the action there must be nothing irrational. If the\nirrational cannot be excluded, it should be outside the scope of the\ntragedy. Such is the irrational element in the \u0152dipus of Sophocles.\u201d[142]\nAristotle means certain strange _data_ in the _\u0152dipus Tyrannus_\u2014the fact\nthat neither \u0152dipus nor Jocasta has learnt earlier about the past, and so\nforth.\n\n\u00a7 II. On the purely literary line he tells us the parts:\u2014[143]\n\n(_a_) \u201cThe Prologos is that entire part of a tragedy which precedes the\nParodos of the chorus\u201d (see below for the Parodos). Thus a drama may have\nno \u201cprologos\u201d at all, for example the _Pers\u00e6_. The implications of our\nword \u201cprologue\u201d are derived from the practice of Euripides, who is fond\nof giving in his \u201cprologos\u201d an account of events which have led up to the\naction about to be displayed.\n\n(_b_) \u201cThe Episode is that entire part of a tragedy which is between\ncomplete choric songs.\u201d \u201cEpisodes\u201d then are what we call \u201cacts\u201d: the name\nhas already been explained.[144]\n\n(_c_) \u201cThe Exodos is that entire part of a tragedy which has no choric\nsong after it.\u201d The few anap\u00e6sts which close most tragedies are not\n\u201cchoric songs\u201d\u2014they were performed in recitative. Thus the Exodos is\nsimply the last act.\n\n(_d_) \u201cOf the choric part the Parodos is the first undivided utterance of\nthe chorus: the Stasimon is a choric ode without anap\u00e6sts or trochees:\nthe Commos is a joint lamentation of chorus and actors.\u201d It will be seen\nlater[145] that by excluding trochees he probably means the trochaic\ntetrameter as seen in dialogue; lyric trochees are very common.\n\n\u00a7 III. On the strictly dramatic line he tells us the _stages of\nstructural development_.\n\n(_a_) \u201cEvery tragedy falls into two parts\u2014Complication and Unravelling\n(or _D\u00e9nouement_).... By the Complication I mean all that comes between\nthe beginning of the action and the part which marks the turning-point\nto good or bad fortune. The Unravelling is that which comes between the\nbeginning of the change and the end.\u201d[146]\n\n(_b_) \u201cReversal (or Recoil, Peripeteia) is a change by which a train of\naction produces the opposite of the effect intended, subject always to\nour rule of probability or necessity. Thus in the \u0152dipus, the messenger\ncomes to cheer \u0152dipus and free him from his alarms about his mother, but,\nby revealing who he is, he produces the opposite effect.\u201d[147]\n\nMuch might be written on this analysis of dramatic structure. One remark\nat least must be made. It is not plain how much importance Aristotle\nallots to the Recoil or Peripeteia. We have seen that he did not regard\nit as indispensable. At the most he seems to think it a striking way\nof starting the _d\u00e9nouement_. It is better to look upon it, and the\naction which leads up to it, as a separate part of the drama\u2014and it may\nbe argued that every tragedy, if not every comedy, has a Peripeteia\u2014to\nform, in fact, that middle stage which elsewhere[148] in the _Poetic_ he\nmentions as necessary.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER II\n\nTHE GREEK THEATRE AND THE PRODUCTION OF PLAYS\n\n\nI. THE OCCASIONS OF PERFORMANCE\n\nGreek drama was looked upon not only as a form of entertainment and\nculture, but as an act of worship offered to the god Dionysus. It was,\nin consequence, restricted to his festivals; performances of a quite\nsecular character are unknown. Three Attic festivals are connected with\nthe tragic drama: the City Dionysia, the Len\u00e6a, the Rural Dionysia. The\nCity or Great Dionysia were the most splendid of the three, held in\nthe precinct of Dionysus Eleuthereus on the south-eastern slope of the\nAcropolis, where the ruined theatre still lies. Tragedies, comedies, and\ndithyrambs were performed, but of these tragedy was the most important.\nThe time was the month of Elaphebolion (March to April). The Len\u00e6a or\n\u201cWine-Press Festival\u201d which occurred in Gamelion (January to February)\nwas the great occasion for comedy, though tragedies were also to be seen.\nIt was held at first in the Len\u00e6on, a sacred enclosure, the site of which\nis still uncertain, later in the same theatre as tragedy. The Rural\nDionysia fell in Poseideon (December to January), and were celebrated by\nthe various Attic townships, especially the Peir\u00e6us; most of the dramas\nperformed were probably such as had been successful in Athens itself;\ncompanies of actors travelled about the country for this purpose.\n\nOf these three celebrations the City Dionysia were the most important\nfor tragedy. The tyrant Pisistratus greatly increased the splendour of\nthis festival and instituted the tragic contest. Each year during the\nfifth century three tragedians submitted each a tetralogy, and five\ncomedians one play apiece. Tragedies were given in the mornings, comedies\nin the afternoon, and the celebration continued for at least five days.\n\n\nII. THE BUILDINGS\n\nSince the performance was a state-function, the whole nation was\ntheoretically expected to be present, and in point of fact enormous\naudiences attended: the great theatre accommodated perhaps 30,000[149]\nspectators. This fact governs the nature of the whole presentation. The\ntheatre could not be roofed, and the acting therefore differed greatly\nfrom that customary in modern buildings.\n\nA Greek theatre consisted of three parts\u2014the auditorium, the orchestra,\nand the \u201cstage-buildings\u201d. The heart of the whole is the orchestra or\n\u201cdancing-ground\u201d (\u1f40\u03c1\u03c7\u03ae\u03c3\u03c4\u03c1\u03b1) upon which the chorus, throughout the action,\nwere stationed\u2014a circular area of beaten earth, later paved with marble.\nBeside the altar in this orchestra stood, in the earliest days of the\ntheatre, the sacrificial table upon which the single actor mounted.\nThis table in the fixed theatre is the descendant of the waggon from\nwhich the peripatetic actor of Thespis delivered his lines. In addition\nto the celebrants the passive worshippers were needed\u2014the audience.\nTherefore the orchestra was placed at the bottom of a slope; and the\nspectators stood or sat on the higher ground. On the farther side rose\nthe \u201cstage-buildings,\u201d whatever from time to time they were. The general\nplan, then, of any Greek theatre was this:\u2014\n\n[Illustration]\n\nA is the circular orchestra, B the altar (\u03b8\u03c5\u03bc\u03ad\u03bb\u03b7) of Dionysus which\ninvariably stood in the middle of it. C represents the \u201cstage-buildings\u201d;\nD, E, F, are the doors which led from the building to the open air. The\nbuilding usually projected into side-wings (G, G), called \u03c0\u03b1\u03c1\u03b1\u03c3\u03ba\u03ae\u03bd\u03b9\u03b1. H,\nH, are the passage-ways (\u03c0\u03ac\u03c1\u03bf\u03b4\u03bf\u03b9), by which the chorus generally entered\nthe orchestra, and by which the audience always made its way to the\nseats. J, J, J, is the auditorium, a vast horseshoe-shaped space rising\nup a hillside from the orchestra, and filled with benches. This space\nwas intersected by gangways,[150] K, K, L, L, etc., called, perhaps,\n\u03ba\u03bb\u03af\u03bc\u03b1\u03ba\u03b5\u03c2; the areas M, M, N, N, etc., so formed, had the name \u201cpegs\u201d\n(\u03ba\u03b5\u03c1\u03ba\u03af\u03b4\u03b5\u03c2). In most theatres a longitudinal gallery O, O, O, was made\nfor further convenience in getting to the seats. In the strictly Greek\ntype the front line of \u201cstage-buildings\u201d never encroached on the circle\nof the orchestra. But these theatres were used in Roman times also, and\naltered to suit certain needs. The front of C was thrown forward so that\nit cut into the orchestra and obliterated the passages H, H. To replace\nthese, entrances were tunnelled through the auditorium. Thus at Athens\nthe orchestra is now only little more than a semicircle, though amid\nthe ruins of the \u201cstage-buildings\u201d can still be seen a few feet of the\nkerbstone which surrounded the original dancing floor\u2014the only surviving\nremnants of the \u00c6schylean theatre; this masonry shows that the diameter\nof the whole was about 90 feet.\n\nThe \u201cstage-buildings,\u201d as we have called them for convenience, require\na longer discussion. Originally there stood in that place only a tent,\ncalled _sc\u0113n\u0113_ (\u03c3\u03ba\u03b7\u03bd\u03ae), which took no part in the theatrical illusion,\nbut was used by the one actor simply as a dressing-room. Soon, no doubt,\ncame the important advance of employing it as \u201cscenery\u201d\u2014the tent of\nAgamemnon before Troy, for example. Later a wooden booth was erected, and\nSophocles\u2019 invention of scene-painting\u2014that is, of concealing this booth\nwith canvas to represent whatever place or building was needed\u2014added\nenormously to the playwright\u2019s resources. This booth was afterwards built\nof stone and became more and more elaborate; Roman \u201cstage-buildings\u201d\nsurvive which are admirable pieces of dignified architecture. The\nbuilding of course contained dressing-rooms and property-rooms. There\nwere doors at the narrow ends. The front of the building was pierced by\nthree, later by five, doors.\n\nUpon what did these doors open? Was there a stage in the Greek theatre?\nThis problem has aroused more discussion than any other in Greek\nscholarship save the \u201cHomeric Question\u201d. That all theatres possessed a\nstage (\u03bb\u03bf\u03b3\u03b5\u1fd6\u03bf\u03bd) in Roman times is certain; the Athenian building\u2014which\nin its present condition dates from the alterations made by Ph\u00e6drus in\nthe third century after Christ\u2014shows quite obviously the front wall of\na stage about 4\u00bd feet high. But did the dramatists of the fifth and\nfourth centuries before Christ write for a theatre with a stage or not?\nThere is a good deal of _prima-facie_ evidence for a stage, and a good\ndeal to show that the actors moved to and fro on that segment of the\norchestra nearest to the booth. That is, the question lies between\nacting on top of the proscenium (or decorated wall joining the faces of\nthe _parascenia_ G, G) and acting in front of it. A brief _r\u00e9sum\u00e9_[151]\nof the evidence is all that can be attempted here. It is confined to the\nconsideration of the fifth and fourth centuries B.C., to which belongs\npractically all the extant work. For the period after 300 B.C. the use of\na stage seems indisputable.\n\n\nA. ARGUMENTS FOR A STAGE\n\n\u00a7 1. _A High Stage._\u2014Vitruvius, the Roman architect, who wrote at the end\nof the first century B.C., in his directions for building a Greek theatre\nsays: \u201cAmong the Greeks the orchestra is wider, the back scene is farther\nfrom the audience, and the stage is narrower.[152] This latter they call\n_logeion_ (speaking-place), because the actors of tragedy and comedy\nperform there close to the back scene, while the other artistes play\nin the ambit of the orchestra, wherefore the two classes of performer\nare called _sc\u00e6nici_ and _thymelici_ respectively.\u201d [Literally, \u201cthose\nconnected with the booth\u201d and \u201cthose connected with the central altar\u201d.]\n\u201cThis _logeion_ should be not less than 10, and not more than 12, feet\nin height.\u201d[153] This, says D\u00f6rpfeld, applies to the Greek theatre of\nVitruvius\u2019 own time, but has been extended by modern writers to the fifth\ncentury. Supposing, however, that Vitruvius was thinking of the fifth\ncentury, then:\u2014\n\n(_a_) The stage is too narrow for performances, viz. 2\u00b750 to 3 m\u00e8tres,\nfrom which 1 m\u00e8tre must be subtracted for the background. The remaining\nspace is not enough for actors and mutes, not to mention any combined\naction of players and chorus.\n\n(_b_) It is also too high. Many passages in the plays show that chorus\nand actors are on the same level; in all these cases the chorus would\nhave to mount steps, or the actors descend. This is absurdly awkward;\nnor is there evidence for steps. An attempt has been made[154] to meet\nthe difficulties by the assumption of another platform about half the\nheight of the stage, erected on the orchestra for the chorus. But the\nvarious objections to such a subsidiary platform are so strong that it is\nno longer believed in. With it, however disappears the only way by which\nplays with a chorus could be performed on the high stage of Vitruvius.\n\n\u00a7 2. _A Low Stage._\u2014Many scholars, abandoning Vitruvius as evidence for\nthe fifth century, postulate a low stage. Their arguments are:\u2014[155]\n\n(_a_) Aristotle in the fourth century calls the songs of the actors \u03c4\u1f70\n\u1f00\u03c0\u1f78 \u03c4\u1fc6\u03c2 \u03c3\u03ba\u03b7\u03bd\u1fc6\u03c2, and says that the actor performed \u1f10\u03c0\u1f76 \u03c4\u1fc6\u03c2 \u03c3\u03ba\u03b7\u03bd\u1fc6\u03c2, phrases\nwhich seem to mean \u201cfrom the stage\u201d and \u201con the stage\u201d respectively.\nAnd though D\u00f6rpfeld would take \u03c3\u03ba\u03b7\u03bd\u03ae as \u201cbackground\u201d (not \u201cstage\u201d)\ntranslating Aristotle\u2019s phrases by \u201cfrom the background\u201d and \u201cat the\nbackground,\u201d there remains the difficulty that Aristotle plainly thinks\nof actors and chorus as occupying quite distinct stations, which scarcely\nsuggests that they move on contiguous portions of the same ground.\n\n(_b_) The side-wings or _parascenia_ must have been meant to enclose a\nstage. What else could have been their use?\n\n(_c_) There are five phrases used by Aristophanes. Three times[156] an\nactor, on approaching other actors, is said to \u201ccome up\u201d; twice[157] he\nis said to \u201cgo down\u201d. Nothing in the context implies raised ground as\nneeded by the drama, so that we seem forced to refer these expressions to\nthe visible stage itself. D\u00f6rpfeld and others would translate these two\nverbs by \u201ccome here\u201d and \u201cgo away\u201d; but there is no evidence for these\nmeanings.\n\n(_d_) The existing plays throw incidental light on the problem:\u2014\n\n(i) Certain characters[158] complain of the steepness of their path as\nthey first come before the audience. Do they not refer to an actual\nascent from orchestra to stage?\n\n(ii) Ghosts sometimes appear. How can they have ascended out of \u201cthe\nground\u201d unless action took place on a raised area? This argument is,\nhowever, not strong. In later theatres such spectres did rise from below.\nBut in the fifth century they may well have walked in.\n\n(iii) A more striking[159] argument is that on several occasions the\nchorus, though it has excellent reason to enter the back scene, remains\ninert. In the _Agamemnon_ the elders talk of rushing to the king\u2019s aid; a\nsimilar thing happens in the _Medea_; there are a number of such strange\nfeatures. The inference is that there was a stage, to mount which would\nhave appeared odd.\n\n(iv) A stage was needed to make the actors visible, instead of being\nhidden by the chorus.[160] But, though there is no evidence that the\nchorus grouped themselves about the orchestra (as in the performances at\nBradfield College), and they apparently stood in rows facing the actors,\nthey could have been placed far forward enough to enable all to see the\nactors. Anyone who has visited a circus will appreciate this.\n\n(v) Plato[161] remarks that Agathon and his actors appeared on an\n\u1f40\u03ba\u03c1\u03af\u03b2\u03b1\u03c2, a \u201cplatform\u201d. But the word suggests a slight structure: D\u00f6rpfeld\nobjects that this appearance was probably in the Odeum, or Music Hall,\nnot the Theatre of Dionysus; if it was in the theatre, the passage rather\ntells against a stage, for a temporary platform would not have been used\nif there was a stage.\n\n(vi) Horace[162] says that \u201c\u00c6schylus gave his modest stage a floor of\nbeams\u201d or \u201cgave the stage a floor of moderate-sized beams\u201d. D\u00f6rpfeld\nalleges (without evidence) that _pulpitum_ (translated \u201cstage\u201d in the\nlast sentence) may mean \u201cbooth,\u201d and suggests that the poet assumes a\nstage as matter of course: he is marking the advance made by \u00c6schylus\nupon Thespis, who (according to Horace himself), performed his plays\nupon a waggon. But the proper answer is surely that Horace is regularly\nunreliable when he deals with questions of Greek scholarship, and that\nhe is no doubt arbitrarily combining his knowledge of contemporary Greek\ntheatres with his knowledge that \u00c6schylus advanced in theatrical matters\nbeyond Thespis.\n\nSuch are the main arguments in favour of a stage in the fifth and fourth\ncenturies before Christ.\n\n\nB. ARGUMENTS AGAINST A STAGE\n\n(i) The evidence of the extant dramas. This, already adduced by many\nto prove that a stage was used, is taken by D\u00f6rpfeld[163] as \u201cshowing\nunmistakably that no separation existed between chorus and actors, that\non the contrary both played on the same area\u201d. He refers to action where\npeople pass between house and orchestra with no apparent difficulty or\nhesitation. The chorus enter from the \u201cpalace\u201d in the _Choephor\u0153_, the\n_Eumenides_, and Euripides\u2019 _Phaethon_; the chorus of huntsmen enter it\nin the _Hippolytus_. There are other probable or possible instances.\nParticularly noteworthy is the fact that in _Helena_ the chorus in the\nmidst of the play enter the building, and later reappear from it.\n\n(ii) The tradition in later writers. It is true, says D\u00f6rpfeld, that we\nhave no express assertion that there was no stage\u2014it never occurred to\nthe older writers to say so, for they knew of no such thing. The later\nwriters imply that there was none. Tim\u00e6us,[164] commenting on \u1f40\u03ba\u03c1\u03af\u03b2\u03b1\u03c2,\nsays: \u201cfor there was not yet a _thymele_\u201d. _Thymele_ there means \u201cstage\u201d.\nSeveral late writers tell us that the Roman _logeion_ (\u201cspeaking-place\u201d\nor \u201cstage\u201d) was once called \u201corchestra\u201d: this supports the view that the\nstage is part of the old orchestra, higher than the other portion (see\nbelow). The scholiast on _Prometheus Vinctus_, 128, remarks: \u201cThey (the\nchorus) say this as they hover in the air on the machine; for it would\nbe absurd for them to converse from below [_i.e._ from the orchestra] to\none aloft\u201d. Now, the pro-stage theory makes all choruses do this. The\nscholiast on Aristophanes\u2019 _Wasps_, 1342, writes: \u201cThe old man stands\non a certain height (\u1f10\u03c0\u03af \u03c4\u03b9\u03bd\u03bf\u03c2 \u03bc\u03b5\u03c4\u03b5\u03ce\u03c1\u03bf\u03c5) as he summons the girl\u201d. The\nword \u201ccertain\u201d (\u03c4\u03b9\u03bd\u03cc\u03c2) implies that he knew nothing of a regular stage.\nFinally, if there was a definite and regular difference of position\nbetween actors and chorus, is it not astonishing (_a_) that there is in\nGreek literature no certain allusion to the fact, (_b_) that the older\nliterature contains no word for the stage, the place where the acting\nwas performed being referred to merely by reference to the _booth_ (\u1f10\u03c0\u1f76\n\u03c3\u03ba\u03b7\u03bd\u1fc6\u03c2 and \u1f00\u03c0\u1f78 \u03c3\u03ba\u03b7\u03bd\u1fc6\u03c2)?\n\n(iii) The architectural remains. D\u00f6rpfeld sums up his celebrated\narchitectural researches thus. No theatre survives from the fifth\ncentury, but the theatre of Lycurgus (fourth century) belongs to a period\nwhen the plays of that century were still acted in the old manner. Also\nwe possess numerous buildings which represent the rather later form of\nthe theatre (the building with fixed proscenium), and which belong to\nthat period to which the remarks of Vitruvius apply. From the Lycurgean\ntheatre we learn that there was no stage high or low. A platform for\nactor or orator is only necessary when the audience are all on a flat\narea. If they sit on a slope, a stage is more inconvenient than if the\nspeaker stands on the ground.[165] And so, in the earliest times, when\nthere was no sloping auditorium, Thespis, for example, performed upon a\ncart. In Italy the slope came into use only late, and the stage had been\nwidely adopted before that time\u2014for there was no chorus to provide for.\nWhen the Greek theatre was introduced into Italy, the Roman form was\ninvented. They did not abandon their own stage, but divided the Greek\norchestra into two parts of different height. The farther half, now\nsuperfluous (the chorus having vanished) could be used for spectators or\ngladiators. This portion was (in earlier theatres of the true Greek type)\nexcavated and filled with fresh seats. The stage was, of course, not made\nhigher than the lowest eyes.\n\nThe nature of the proscenium in Greek theatres was not suitable for\nthe supporting wall of a stage. It would be absurd to see a temple in\nthe air above a colonnade.[166] Again, it was impossible to act on top\nof the proscenium. The fear of falling, when the actor wore a mask and\nwas forced to approach the edge in order to be well seen by the lowest\nspectators, would spoil his acting. Finally, why was the proscenium-front\nnot a tangent of the orchestra circle? It should have been brought as far\nforward as possible if they acted on top of it.\n\nTo sum up. The orchestra in the earliest period was the place of the\nchorus and the actors. It kept that function when the _sc\u0113n\u0113_ was\nerected beside it as a background. The chorus used the whole circle, the\nactors only part of it and the ground which lay in front of the _sc\u0113n\u0113_.\nNo change in this arrangement was made later. The actors in Roman times,\nof course, stood above the level of the excavated semicircle. But they\nremained throughout at the same distance from the spectators[167] and at\nthe same level\u2014that of the old orchestra.\n\nHow then are we to deal with Vitruvius\u2019 statement about the height of the\nstage? D\u00f6rpfeld suggested[168] that Vitruvius used plans and descriptions\nmade by a Greek; Vitruvius, in absence of any warning, taking it (as a\nRoman) for granted there was a stage, saw it in the proscenium; or he may\nhave misunderstood the phrase \u1f10\u03c0\u1f76 \u03c3\u03ba\u03b7\u03bd\u1fc6\u03c2 in his Greek authority. But such\na fundamental error made by a professional architect, who even if he had\nnever been in Greece, must have known many persons familiar with Greek\nacting, is extremely hard to assume.[169] Yet the mistake is credible as\nregards the Greek theatre of the fourth and fifth centuries.\n\nAmidst the mass of evidence and argument, only an outline of which is\nhere presented, it is difficult to decide. The majority of inquirers will\nprobably be swayed as regards the theatre of Sophocles and Astydamas\nby two considerations: the acting exigencies of the plays we now read\nor know of, and their own feeling as to how the performance would look\nwith a stage and without. It seems, perhaps, most likely that D\u00f6rpfeld\nis right: that there was no stage, though when the fa\u00e7ade represented a\npalace or temple a few steps might naturally appear.\n\n\nIII. SUPERVISION OF DRAMATIC DISPLAYS\n\nThe authority superintending dramatic performances was the Athenian\nState, acting through the archon basileus for the Len\u00e6a, the archon\neponymus for the City Dionysia. The archon allotted the task of producing\nthe three annual series of dramas to three persons for each series: the\npoet, the choregus, the protagonist. We will consider these persons in\nturn.\n\nPlaywrights submitted their work to the archon, who himself selected\nthree: to each he was said to \u201cgive a chorus\u201d. The applications were\nmany, and distinguished poets sometimes failed to \u201creceive a chorus\u201d.\nThe poet\u2019s business was not only to write the play and the music,\n(but in early times) to train actors and chorus. Near the end of the\nfifth century B.C. it became the practice to employ an expert trainer.\nOccasionally the poet caused some other person to \u201cproduce\u201d the play.\nThis was frequently done by Aristophanes, and we hear that Iophon\ncompeted with tragedies written by his father Sophocles.\n\nThe name \u201cchoregus\u201d means \u201cchorus-leader,\u201d but the choregus actually had\nquite other functions. He was a rich citizen who as a \u201cliturgy\u201d or public\nservice bore all the special cost of the performance. To each choregus\na flute-player was allotted, and it seems likely that the poet too was\nregarded as assigned to the choregus rather than the latter to the poet.\nThe mounting of plays, which depended on the choregus, greatly influenced\nthe audience, and their expressed opinion cannot but have had weight with\nthe ten judges.[170] The wealthy Nicias, for example, obtained success\nfor every tetralogy which he mounted.[171]\n\nThe third person with whom the archon concerned himself was the\n\u201cprotagonist\u201d (the chief actor)\u2014after the middle of the fifth century;\nbefore then it appears that poets chose their protagonists. In the\nmiddle of the fifth century a protagonist was selected by the archon\nand one assigned to each tragic poet by lot. (The chief actor provided\nhis subordinates himself.) This change came at about the time when three\nactors were regularly employed in each tragedy and when the contests\nin acting were instituted; a prize for acting was awarded, and the\nsuccessful actor had the right to perform the following year. As the\nimportance of the actor increased\u2014Aristotle tells us that in his time the\nsuccess of a play depended more upon the actor than upon the poet[172]\u2014it\nwas considered unfair that one poet should have the best performer for\nall his plays. In the middle of the fourth century the arrangement was\nintroduced that each protagonist should play in one tragedy only of each\npoet.\n\nEach dramatist competed with a tetralogy[173] (that is, \u201cfour works\u201d)\nconsisting of three tragedies and a satyric play, and the claims of\nthese three tetralogies were decided by five[174] judges. Some days\nbefore the competition began, the Council of the State and the choregi\nselected a number of names from each of the ten tribes. These names were\nsealed up in urns, which were produced at the opening of the festival.\nThe archon drew one name from each urn, and the ten citizens so selected\nwere sworn as judges and given special seats. After the conclusion of\nthe performances each of the ten gave his verdict on a tablet, and five\nof these were drawn by the archon at random; these five judgments gave\nthe award. In this method the principle of democratic equality and the\nnecessity to rely on expert opinion were well combined. When the votes\nhad been collected, a herald proclaimed the name of the successful\npoet and of his choregus, who were crowned with ivy (a plant always\nassociated with Dionysus). There is no evidence that a dramatic choregus\nwas given any further reward: the prize of a tripod was only for\ndithyramb. The poet received, tradition said, a goat[175] in early times;\nafter the State-supervision began, a sum of money from public funds was\npaid to each of the competitors. Records of the results were inscribed\nupon tablets and set up both by the victorious choregi and by the State.\nIt is from these, directly or indirectly, that our knowledge of the facts\nis obtained; directly, because such inscriptions have been discovered in\nAthens, indirectly, because they were the basis of written works on the\nsubject. Aristotle wrote a book called _Didascali\u00e6_ (\u03b4\u03b9\u03b4\u03b1\u03c3\u03ba\u03b1\u03bb\u03af\u03b1\u03b9), that\nis, \u201cDramatic Productions\u201d; though it is lost, later works were based\nupon it, and it is from these that the Greek \u201cArguments\u201d to the existing\nplays are derived.\n\n\nIV. THE MOUNTING OF A TRAGEDY\n\nScenery was painted on canvas or boards and attached to the front of\nthe buildings. In satyric drama it appears to have varied little\u2014a wild\ndistrict with trees, rocks, and a cave. Tragedy generally employed a\ntemple or palace-front, though even in the extant thirty-two there\nare exceptions\u2014the rock of Prometheus, the tent of Ajax, the cave\nof Philoctetes, and so forth. In a fa\u00e7ade there were three doors,\ncorresponding to the three permanent doors in the buildings; when a cave\nor tent was depicted, its opening was in front of the central door.\nStatues were placed before the temple or palace\u2014those of the deities, for\ninstance, in the _Agamemnon_ to whom the Herald utters his magnificent\naddress. Individuality would be given to a temple by the statue of\na particular god. Scene-painting was probably not very artistic or\nscrupulous of details. We never read any praise of splendid theatrical\nscenery such as is familiar to-day; and clever lighting effects were\nof course out of the question when all was performed in the daylight.\nHere and there the persons allude to the landscape, as in Sophocles\u2019\n_Electra_, where the aged attendant of Orestes points out to the prince\nstriking features of the Argolid plain. Such things were mostly left to\nthe imagination of the audience, like the forest of Arden and the squares\nof Verona or Venice in Shakespeare. Undoubtedly, a Greek tragedy provided\na beautiful spectacle, but this resulted from the costumes, poses, and\ngrouping of actors and chorus.\n\nChange of scene was rarely needed in tragedy; the peculiar arrangements\nof comedy do not concern us. Only two extant tragedies need it. In the\n_Eumenides_ of \u00c6schylus the change from the temple of Apollo at Delphi\nto Athena\u2019s temple in Athens is vital to the plot but need not have\ncaused much trouble; probably convention was satisfied by changing the\nstatue. In _Ajax_ the scene shifts from that hero\u2019s tent to a deserted\npart of the sea-shore; no doubt the tent was simply removed. One reason\nagainst change of scene was the continuous presence of the chorus;\nwhen the playwright found he must shift his locality the chorus were\ncompelled to retire and reappear. We read[176] of a permanent appliance\nby which scenery could be altered; there is, however, no evidence that\nit was known in the great age of Athenian drama. This consisted of the\n_periacti_ (\u03c0\u03b5\u03c1\u03af\u03b1\u03ba\u03c4\u03bf\u03b9). At each end of the scene stood wooden triangular\nprisms standing on their ends and revolving in sockets, so arranged\nthat one of the narrow oblong sides continued the picture. A different\nsubject was painted on each side. A twist given to either marked a change\nof place; the alteration of one _periactus_ meant a change of locality\nwithin the same region, while the alteration of both meant a complete\nchange of district. Thus, had this contrivance been used in the fifth\ncentury, one _periactus_ would have been moved in the _Ajax_, both in the\n_Eumenides_. Another and stranger use of this contrivance is mentioned\nby Pollux: \u201cit introduces sea-gods and everything which is too heavy for\nthe machine\u201d. We shall return to this when we come to the \u201ceccyclema\u201d and\nthe \u201cmachine\u201d. No curtain is known for the classical age.\n\nStage-properties were few and for the most part simple. Much the most\nimportant was the tomb of some great person; that of Darius in the\n_Pers\u00e6_, and of Agamemnon in the _Choephor\u0153_, are fundamental to the\nplot, and there are many other examples.[177] Statues have already been\nmentioned. The spaciousness of the orchestra made it easy to introduce\nchariots and horses, as in _Agamemnon_, Euripides\u2019 _Electra_ and\n_Iphigenia at Aulis_.\n\nVarious contrivances were employed to permit the appearance of actors\nin circumstances where they could not simply enter the orchestra or\n_logeion_. We need not dwell upon certain quaint machinery which it\nis fairly certain was not used in the great age\u2014\u201cCharon\u2019s steps,\u201d by\nwhich ghosts ascended, the \u201canapiesma\u201d which brought up river-gods and\nFuries, the \u201cstropheion\u201d which showed heroes in heaven and violent\ndeaths, the \u201chemicyclion\u201d by which the spectators were given a view of\nremote cities or of men swimming, the \u201cbronteion,\u201d or thunder machine,\nconsisting of a sheet of metal and sacks of stones to throw thereon,\nthe \u201cceraunoscopeion\u201d or lightning machine, a black plank with a\nflash painted upon it, which was shot across the stage. In the fifth\ncentury the theatrical contrivances amounted to four\u2014the distegia, the\ntheologeion, the \u201cmachine,\u201d and the eccyclema.\n\nThe distegia was employed when human beings showed themselves above the\nlevel of the \u201cstage,\u201d for example on a roof or cliff. Such appearances\nare not common\u2014the watchman (_Agamemnon_), Antigone and her nurse\n(_Ph\u0153niss\u00e6_), Orestes and Pylades (_Orestes_), Evadne (Euripidean\n_Supplices_), are all the occasions in existing tragedy; comedy supplies\na few more. Probably it was \u201ca projecting balcony or upper story, which\nmight be introduced when required\u201d;[178] the word appears to mean \u201csecond\nstory\u201d. The arrangement would then correspond closely to the gallery used\nat the back of the Elizabethan stage.\n\nSimilar to this was the \u201ctheologeion\u201d (\u201cspeaking-place for gods\u201d), on\nwhich gods or deified heroes appeared when they were not to be shown\ndescending through the air. The arrangement seems to have been a platform\nin the upper part of the scenery. Whether it was fixed there and the\nactors entered through an opening to take their place, or whether it was\nused like the eccyclema (see below), is not clear.\n\nWe hear much more of the \u201cmachine\u201d (\u03bc\u03b7\u03c7\u03b1\u03bd\u03ae) by which actors descended as\nfrom Heaven or ascended. It was a crane from which cords were attached to\nthe actor\u2019s body; a stage-hand hauled the actor up or down by a winch.\nThere are a good many instances of its use. The apparition of Thetis at\nthe close of _Andromache_ exemplifies the most customary happening. But\nsometimes the machine had to carry a greater burden; both the Dioscuri\nappear in Euripides\u2019 _Electra_, both Iris and Frenzy in _Hercules\nFurens_. \u00c6schylus no doubt sent Oceanus on his four-legged bird by this\nroute; possibly Medea, and the chariot containing her sons\u2019 bodies, were\nalso suspended by it; and it has even been thought that the chorus of\n_Prometheus Vinctus_ and their \u201cwinged chariot\u201d enter in this way. But\nthe last suggestion is very questionable. The weight would be excessive,\nand probably the car is supposed to be left outside, or may have been\npainted on a _periactus_. Aristophanes gets excellent fooling out of\nthe machine. The celebrated basket in which Socrates \u201cwalks the air and\ncontemplates the sun\u201d[179] is attached to it; and in the _Peace_ there is\na delightful parody of Bellerophon\u2019s ascent to Heaven.\n\nFar more puzzling is the eccyclema. This celebrated device was employed\nto reveal to the spectators events which had just taken place \u201cwithin\u201d.\nAfter the murders in the _Agamemnon_ the palace doors are opened and\nClyt\u00e6mnestra is shown standing axe in hand over the corpses of Cassandra\nand the king. There are a good many instances of precisely the same\ntype: the scene exhibited is a small _tableau_. But there are dissimilar\nexamples which shall be discussed later. The construction of this machine\nis usually described thus. Inside the middle[180] door was a small oblong\nplatform on wheels, upon which the _tableau_ was arranged; then the\nplatform was thrust out upon the stage and in a few minutes drawn back\nagain. Two quite different objections have been raised to this account.\n\nFirst, it seems ridiculous to reveal what is supposed to be inside a\nbuilding\u2014not to come out, be it observed, but to stay inside\u2014by thrusting\nforth one or two people on a species of dray. But we must remember the\nenormous and rightful influence of convention. If Greek audiences wished\nto see such _tableaux_ and were convinced that by no other means could\nthey be shown, then it was their business to accept the eccyclema; that\nin such circumstances they would accept and soon fail even to notice\nit, is proved by the whole history of art. We see nothing ludicrous\nin the spectacle of a man telling his deepest secrets in a study one\nwall of which is replaced by a vast assembly of eavesdroppers. The\nElizabethan theatre accepted precisely this contrivance of the eccyclema.\nIn our texts of _Henry VI_ (Pt. II, Act III, Sc. ii.) we read this\nstage-direction: \u201cThe folding-doors of an inner chamber are thrown open,\nand Gloucester is discovered dead in his bed: Warwick and others standing\nby it\u201d. Instead of all this, the old direction merely says: \u201cBed put\nforth\u201d. In another early drama we find the amusing instruction: \u201cEnter\nSo-and-So in bed\u201d. The \u00e6sthetic objection to the eccyclema has no force\nwhatever.\n\nThe other objection rests on the fact that a more elaborate _tableau_ is\nsometimes indicated than could be accommodated on so narrow a platform.\nThe most serious example is provided by the _Eumenides_, where we are\nto imagine upon the eccyclema an altar, Orestes kneeling by it, Apollo\nand Hermes standing beside him, and the whole chorus of Furies sleeping\naround them. In Aristophanes\u2019 _Clouds_ the interior of Socrates\u2019 school\nis exhibited, with pupils at work amid lecture-room appliances. A\nbrilliant scene of the same poet\u2019s _Acharnians_ depicts Dic\u00e6opolis\u2019\ninterview with Euripides, who is too busy to come downstairs from his\nstudy-attic, but consents to be \u201cwheeled out\u201d. Thus the eccyclema\nshows him outside and also aloft: how could this be represented on the\ndray? Perhaps by elevating poet and furniture upon posts? Even this is\nnot inconceivable.[181] Nor is it impossible that the Furies of the\n_Eumenides_ were arranged on two eccyclemata of their own, thrust out\nof the side doors, while Orestes and the gods were upon the central\nplatform. For Pollux does say that there were three.\n\nOther views of this machine have been offered, which explain the\n\u201cwheeling\u201d of which we read as the working of wheeled mechanism, such\nas a winch. Some would have it that the scenery opens, whether doors\nare flung wide, or the canvas is rolled back like curtains. In this\nway a considerable area behind the scenes could be revealed. This\nis, of course, infinitely more in accordance with modern ideas. But\nit will not fit all the available evidence, which talks of \u201cwheeling\nin\u201d and \u201cwheeling out,\u201d \u201cRoll this unhappy man within\u201d[182] and the\nlike. Moreover, in such a simple operation there would be nothing for\nAristophanes to parody. A third explanation is that a considerable\npart of the back scene was cut out and replaced so as to swing on\na perpendicular axis. Projecting from this at the back was a small\nplatform, upon which the _tableau_ was grouped; this oblong portion was\ntwisted round so that the platform pointed towards the spectators. It\nresembled, in fact, that contrivance in the modern Japanese theatre by\nwhich one scene is prepared while the preceding action takes place, and\nis swung into position when needed. A grave objection to this is that\nsome of the groups\u2014those in _Eumenides_ and _Acharnians_\u2014would be too\nlarge for such a contrivance. The best view seems to be the traditional,\nto which the evidence strongly points. As for the large scenes so\ndisplayed, various tolerable explanations may be found. Only one or two\nFuries and Socratic novices may have appeared on the platform, and the\nothers may have simply walked in through the right and left doors, or\neven been shown on subsidiary platforms at those entrances.\n\nAll other appurtenances of a performance were provided by the\nchoregus\u2014such things as chariots and animals, and, far the most\nimportant, costumes of chorus and actors. All dramatic performers, both\nactors and chorus in tragedy, comedy, and satyric drama alike, wore\ndisguise throughout the whole history of the ancient theatre. The reason\nin the first place was that masks or some kind of facial disguise\u2014in\nThespis\u2019 time the face was anointed with lees of wine\u2014was a feature of\nDionysiac worship. The dressing of a tragic chorus was generally a simple\nmatter. It often represented a company of people from the district with\nno special characteristics. The dress was therefore the usual dress of\nGreek men or women, with a special shoe, the _cr\u0113pis_ (\u03ba\u03c1\u03b7\u03c0\u03af\u03c2), said to\nhave been introduced by Sophocles. There were also obvious indications of\ncircumstances; old men wore beards and carried staves; suppliants bore\nolive-branches twined with wool. The occasional choruses of peculiar\ncharacter were of course equipped specially. In Euripides\u2019 _Bacch\u00e6_ they\nwere dressed in fawn-skins and carried timbrels. When \u00c6schylus brought\nout his _Eumenides_ he designed the Furies\u2019 costume himself; their\nterrible masks and the snakes entwined in their hair are said to have\nterrified the spectators and produced most untoward effects on the more\nsusceptible. The equipment of satyric choristers was very different. They\nwere always dressed as satyrs or goat-men. A tight garment, representing\nthe naked flesh, covered their bodies. Their masks were surmounted\nby horns, their feet were shod in hoof-shaped shoes, and round their\nmiddle they wore a woollen girdle like goatskin to which were attached\nthe phallus and a tail, which, however, after about 400 B.C., resembled\nthe tail of a horse, not a goat, the satyr-type being superseded by the\nSilenus-type. Satyric actors seem to have worn much the same costume\nas the tragic, save that the dress of Silenus represented the hides of\nanimals.\n\nThe dress of tragic actors was mostly the invention of \u00c6schylus and\nshowed little change throughout ancient times. Everything was done to\nmake the actor\u2019s appearance as stately as possible. His robes were heavy,\nsweeping, and of brilliant colours. His size was increased by various\ndevices. The boot, the famous _cothurnus_ (\u03ba\u03cc\u03b8\u03bf\u03c1\u03bd\u03bf\u03c2) or buskin, had an\nimmensely thick sole; the limbs were padded and the height was further\nincreased by an _oncus_ (\u1f44\u03b3\u03ba\u03bf\u03c2) or projection of the mask above the\nforehead. The mask itself was modelled and painted to correspond with the\ncharacter: a tyrant\u2019s mask wore a frown, that of a suppliant a distorted\nlook of misery, and so forth. Increased power was given to the voice by a\nlarge orifice at the mouth. Identity was indicated wherever possible by\nsome obvious mark: Apollo was known by his bow, Heracles by his lion\u2019s\nskin and club, kings by crowns and sceptres. It was a joke against\nEuripides that his heroes so often entered in the rags of beggary.\n\nSuch a cumbersome equipment would be fatal to acting as we understand it.\nThe mask at once destroys all chance of that facial play which we deem\nessential; the padded limbs, heavy garments, and gigantic boots made all\nlife-like motion and _\u00e9lan_ impossible. This is no doubt one great reason\nwhy the playwrights rarely exhibit exciting physical action. Even so, the\nludicrous sometimes occurred. \u00c6schines when acting \u0152nomaus fell and had\nto be helped up by the chorus-trainer.[183] A natural supposition is that\nthese impedimenta date not from \u00c6schylus but from the period of vulgar\nelaboration. Certainly, it is not easy to imagine how such scenes as the\ndelirium of Orestes, or the departure of Pentheus in the _Bacch\u00e6_, could\nhave been reasonably carried out\u2014so to say\u2014on stilts; indeed the whole\nspirit of such plays as _Orestes_, _Ion_, and _Iphigenia at Aulis_ seems\nutterly alien to such equipment. But it is hard to set aside the voice\nof all the evidence. The best way would be to surmise that Euripides\nsometimes dispensed with buskins and the rest\u2014though we should surely\nexpect some allusion to so remarkable a change\u2014for noble as is the work\nof his predecessors, it could be so performed without too absurd an\neffect. If Garrick\u2019s audience did not object to his playing Macbeth in a\nperiwig and knee-breeches, it is likely enough that Athens was content\nwith such a Clyt\u00e6mnestra as Pollux would have us imagine.\n\n\nV. THE PERFORMERS AND THEIR WORK\n\nA tragic performance was carried out by actors, extra performers,\nflute-player, and chorus. All these were men.\n\nExtra performers, though they take up very little space in our text,\nwere important to the spectacle. Mutes were often needed. Not only did\nthese figure as attendants, crowds, and the like; they are sometimes\nimportant to the plot though they do not happen to speak. The jury of\nAreopagites in _Eumenides_ is vital; children such as Eurysaces in\n_Ajax_, and the sons[184] of Medea, are important. Other extra performers\nwere those who had very small speaking or singing parts, such as Eumelus\nin _Alcestis_. This would seem to mean a fourth actor, but, so slight\nwas the part always[185] allotted, that it is not an unreasonable\nstatement that there were never more than three actors. Thirdly, an extra\nchorus was occasionally needed for a short scene, as the Propompi in\n_Eumenides_ and the Huntsmen in _Hippolytus_. Any such extra performer\nwas called a _parachoregema_ (\u03c0\u03b1\u03c1\u03b1\u03c7\u03bf\u03c1\u03ae\u03b3\u03b7\u03bc\u03b1, \u201cextra supply\u201d) and was paid\nby the choregus, as the name shows. (The regular chorus was paid by the\nState.) At times a chorus sang behind the scenes and was then called a\n\u201cparascenion\u201d; this function would, if possible, be performed by members\nof the regular chorus.\n\nInstrumental music was supplied by a single flute-player, paid by the\nchoregus. He was stationed in the orchestra, very likely upon the step of\nthe thymele, and accompanied all songs. At times a harpist was added to\nthe flute-player; Sophocles had great success with that instrument in his\nown _Thamyris_. At the end of a play the flute-player led the chorus out\nof the orchestra. The music itself is a subject complicated and obscure.\nPractically none of it has survived, and the details are naturally\ndifficult to determine; but some main facts are clear. Though there\nwas much singing and dancing the music composed by the tragedians was\nvastly more simple than that of a modern opera. All choral singing was\nin unison, and as a rule the words dominated the music.[186] The result\nwas that an audience followed the language of an ode with ease, nor is it\nlikely that such lyrics as those of the _Agamemnon_ or the Colonus-song,\nnot to mention many others, which are masterpieces of literature, would\nhave been written were they fated to be drowned by elaborate music.\nNevertheless a distinct change took place even in the fifth century,\nowing chiefly to the eminent composer Timotheus, whose innovations\nwere of course looked upon by conservative taste as corrupt; the comic\nplaywright Pherecrates grumbles about the way in which his notes scurry\nhither and thither like ants in a nest,[187] a charge repeated almost in\nthe same words by Aristophanes against Agathon. Euripides followed the\nnew manner, and his novelties are brilliantly caricatured in the _Frogs_:\nthe elaborate but thin _libretto_ and the trills.[188] The increasing\nuse of monodies, or solos by an actor, which we find in Euripides\u2014the\nexotic but effective performance of the Phrygian slave in _Orestes_\nis a conspicuous instance\u2014also points to the growing importance of\nmusical virtuosity. Greek music was composed in certain modes (\u03bd\u03cc\u03bc\u03bf\u03b9),\nthe precise difference between which is not clear, though the ethical\ndistinctions are known. The Dorian mode was austere and majestic, the\nLydian and Mixolydian plaintive, the Phrygian passionate.\n\nWe come now to the actors. These three performers were able to present\nmore than three persons, since they could change mask and costume behind\nthe scenes. One of them far outshone the others in importance\u2014the\n\u201cprotagonist\u201d (\u03c0\u03c1\u03c9\u03c4\u03b1\u03b3\u03c9\u03bd\u03b9\u03c3\u03c4\u03ae\u03c2, \u201cfirst competitor\u201d). He alone was allotted\nto the poet by the archon; the \u201cdeuteragonist\u201d and \u201ctritagonist,\u201d\nhe selected himself; he alone could be a competitor for the acting\nprize. The most important r\u00f4le was of course performed by him. In many\ndramas this was a vast responsibility; Hamlet himself\u2014the proverbial\ninstance\u2014is not more vital to his play than Prometheus, \u0152dipus, or Medea\nto theirs. The other two divided the minor parts among them; it was the\ncustom to give a tritagonist the r\u00f4le of a king when only spectacularly\nimportant\u2014the Doge in _The Merchant of Venice_ would have been just the\npart. In earlier dramas it is plain which r\u00f4le would be given to the\nprotagonist; there is no mistaking the pre-eminence of Clyt\u00e6mnestra in\n_Agamemnon_ or of Philoctetes. But in some later works it is not clear\nwho is the outstanding character. In the _Bacch\u00e6_ Dionysus and Pentheus,\nin the _Orestes_ Electra and her brother, have parts of fairly equal\nimportance. In such cases the protagonist would take an important r\u00f4le\nand a minor r\u00f4le. Change of costume took little time, as examination of\nstructure sometimes shows.[189]\n\nThis restriction of the \u201ccompany\u201d to three actors had important influence\nupon both plot and presentation. As for plot, however many persons a\ndramatist used, he clearly could not bring more than three of them\nforward together. But the power to do even this was frugally used: there\nare but few instances of a genuine three-cornered conversation; one of\nthe three in turn is generally silent. In the Recognition-scene of the\n_Tauric Iphigenia_, Orestes, Pylades, and Iphigenia are all present, but\nthough the _\u00e9claircissement_ fills about two hundred lines, the only\npart of it in which all three share is but twenty lines in length. This\nfrugality indicates that the simplicity of Greek tragedy is a result not\nonly of external conditions, but of the poets\u2019 deliberate choice. As for\npresentation, the restriction to three actors would result in excellent\nplaying of minor parts: a thoroughly competent performer would discharge\nsuch short but important r\u00f4les as that of the Butler in _Alcestis_ and\nthe Herald in _Agamemnon_. Anyone who has been depressed by wooden\nMacduffs and Bassanios will realize the value of this method.\n\nA Greek actor combined the functions of a modern actor and of an\noperatic performer. Lyrics performed by actor and chorus together were\ncalled \u201ccommi\u201d (\u03ba\u03bf\u03bc\u03bc\u03bf\u03af): the most elaborate instance is the great and\nlengthy invocation of Agamemnon\u2019s shade in the _Choephor\u0153_. A solo by an\nactor was known as a \u201cmonody\u201d; Euripides is particularly fond of these;\nIon\u2019s song is perhaps the most attractive. Finally, two or three actors\nmight sing alternately to each other without the chorus; no name for this\nhas been preserved. Certain other passages were neither sung nor spoken,\nbut delivered in recitative: in tragedy these were the dialogue-trochaics\nand anap\u00e6sts. Iambics were spoken (or \u201cdeclaimed\u201d). Obviously the voice\nis of great importance to an actor\u2019s proficiency, above all in a vast\nopen-air theatre, but Greek writers lay even more stress upon it than\nwe should have expected. Both volume and subtlety were demanded. This\nis illustrated by a famous story.[190] An actor named Hegelochus ruined\nthe sick-bed scene in _Orestes_ by a slip in pronunciation. Orestes, on\nrecovering from delirium, says (v. 279):\u2014\n\n    \u1f10\u03ba \u03ba\u03c5\u03bc\u03ac\u03c4\u03c9\u03bd \u03b3\u1f70\u03c1 \u03b1\u1f56\u03b8\u03b9\u03c2 \u03b1\u1f56 \u03b3\u03b1\u03bb\u03ae\u03bd\u2019 \u1f41\u03c1\u1ff6\n\n\u201cafter the billows once more I see a calm\u201d. The unlucky player instead\nof saying \u03b3\u03b1\u03bb\u03ae\u03bd\u2019 said \u03b3\u03b1\u03bb\u1fc6\u03bd, \u201conce more do I see a weasel coming out of\nthe waves\u201d. The theatre burst into laughter, for correct pronunciation\nwas far more insisted upon than in the English theatre of to-day.[191]\nThe status of the acting profession rose steadily as time went on. At\nfirst the poet acted as protagonist, but this practice was dropped by\nSophocles, owing to the weakness of his voice. From that time acting was\nfree to develop as a separate profession. In the middle of the fifth\ncentury a prize for acting was instituted, and the actor\u2019s name began to\nbe added in the official records of victories. In the fourth century the\nimportance of the player increased still more. We have seen that he was\nso vital to the success of a playwright that for fairness\u2019 sake the three\nprotagonists each acted in a single tragedy of each poet. We often hear\nof brilliant acting successes. In the fourth century an Actors\u2019 Guild was\nformed at Athens and continued in existence for centuries. Its object was\nto protect the remarkable privileges held by the \u201cartists of Dionysus\u201d.\nThey were looked upon as great servants of religion, and were not only\nin high social esteem but possessed definite privileges, especially\nthe right of safe-conduct through hostile states and exemption from\nmilitary service. About the beginning of the third century before Christ\nthe Amphictyonic Council, at the instance of the Guild itself, renewed\na decree, the terms of which have fortunately been preserved,[192]\naffirming the immunity of person and property granted to the Athenian\nactors.\n\nThe chorus, we have seen, was originally the only celebrant of the\nDionysiac festival. As the importance of the actors increased it became\nless and less vital to the performance. Its numbers, its connexion\nwith the plot, and the length and relevance of its songs, all steadily\ndiminished.\n\nOriginally there were fifty choristers, but we learn that early in the\nfifth century there were only twelve, and it is suggested that this\nchange was due to the introduction of tetralogies\u2014the fifty choreut\u00e6\nbeing divided as equally as possible between the four dramas. Sophocles,\nit is said, raised the number to fifteen. This account is doubtful. It is\nnot in the nature of things likely that \u00c6schylus (if it was he) caused\nor approved such an immense drop in numbers, from fifty to twelve: for\nthe notion that the original chorus was split up into four is frivolous.\nIs it not obvious that a poet would employ the same choristers for each\nplay of his tetralogy? Again, that Sophocles should chafe at \u00c6schylus\u2019\ntwelve singers and alter the number, and that by a mere trifle of\nthree, is quite unlikely. There is, moreover, strong evidence that the\nelder poet used fifty choreut\u00e6, at any rate in his earlier time. The\n_Supplices_ has for chorus the daughters of Danaus, and their exact\nnumber, fifty, was a familiar _datum_ of the legend. The natural view\nis that \u00c6schylus began with fifty, that Sophocles ended with fifteen,\nand that between these two points the number gradually sank. Whether the\nchoreut\u00e6 after the fifth century became still fewer is not clearly known;\nthere is some evidence that at times they were only seven.\n\nNext, the dramatic value of the chorus steadily went down. In our\nearliest tragedy, the \u00c6schylean _Supplices_, the chorus of Danaids is\nabsolutely vital; they are the chief, almost the sole, interest. In other\nworks of the same poet their importance is certainly less, but still very\ngreat; everywhere they are deeply interested in the fate of the chief\npersons\u2014Xerxes, Eteocles, Prometheus, Agamemnon, Orestes; the chorus of\nthe _Eumenides_ is even more closely attached to the plot. In Sophocles\na certain change is to be felt. The connexion between chorus and plot\nis of much the same quality as in the five plays just mentioned, but\nthe emotional tie and (still more) the tie of self-interest are weaker.\nThe chorus of Greek seamen in _Philoctetes_ are (in the abstract) as\ndeeply concerned in the issue as the Oceanids in _Prometheus_, but most\nreaders would probably agree that they show it less; we can \u201cthink away\u201d\nthe chorus more easily from the _Philoctetes_. In all the other six\nSophoclean dramas the interest of the chorus in the action is about the\nsame as in the _Philoctetes_\u2014strong but scarcely vital. Euripides\u2019 work\nshows more variety. _Alcestis_, _Heracleid\u00e6_, _Hecuba_, _Ion_, _Troades_,\n_Iphigenia in Tauris_, _Helen_, and _Rhesus_ all possess choruses which\nare _prima-facie_ Sophoclean in this regard, though their language tends\nto show less personal concern. In other dramas, _Medea_, _Hippolytus_,\n_Andromache_, _Electra_, _Ph\u0153niss\u00e6_, _Orestes_, _Iphigenia at Aulis_,\nthe chorus is simply a company of spectators. Thirdly, in two plays,\n_Supplices_ and _Bacch\u00e6_, the importance of the chorus is thoroughly\n\u00c6schylean. In Euripides, then, there is found on the whole a weakening\nin the dramatic value of the chorus: in some instances the singers\nare little more than random visitors. In the fourth century Aristotle\nprotests against this: \u201cthe chorus too should be regarded as one of the\nactors; it should be an integral part of the whole, and share in the\naction, in the manner not of Euripides but of Sophocles\u201d.[193]\n\nA precisely similar change operated in the length of the ode. The\nlyrics of \u00c6schylus\u2019 _Supplices_ form more than half the work, those of\n_Orestes_ only one-ninth. Even at the end of \u00c6schylus\u2019 career we find\nin the _Agamemnon_ odes magnificent, elaborate, and lengthy. Sophocles\ncomposed shorter songs which were still closely germane to the plot. But\nin Euripides there frequently occur lyrics whose connexion with the plot\nis slight, sometimes difficult to make out. Agathon carried this still\nfurther: his odes are mere interludes, quite outside the plot.[194]\n\nThe fifteen choristers usually entered through the _parodos_, marching\nlike soldiers.[195] Drawn up in ranks upon the orchestra, they followed\nthe action with their backs to the audience but faced about when they\nsang. Their work fell into two parts, the odes sung between the episodes,\nand participation in the episodes. The entrance-song was called the\n_parodos_ or \u201centrance,\u201d and was written in anap\u00e6stic rhythm, suitable\nfor marching. If so, it was chanted in recitative; lyrics were sung.\nSongs between episodes were called _stasima_. This means \u201cstationary\nsongs,\u201d not because the singers stood still but because they had taken\nup their station in the orchestra. As they left at the end they sang\nan _exodos_ or \u201cexit\u201d in anap\u00e6sts. Besides these, there were occasional\n_hyporchemes_ (\u1f51\u03c0\u03bf\u03c1\u03c7\u03ae\u03bc\u03b1\u03c4\u03b1, \u201cdances\u201d), short, lively songs expressing\nsudden joy. All lyrics were rendered by both song and dance. Singing was\ngenerally executed by all the choreut\u00e6, but some passages were divided\nbetween them. The most frequent division was into two semi-choruses\n(\u1f21\u03bc\u03b9\u03c7\u03cc\u03c1\u03b9\u03b1), but now and then individuals sang a few words. Incidental\niambic lines were spoken by one person, and the short anap\u00e6stic system\nwhich at the end of the lyric often announces the approach of an actor\nwas no doubt assigned to the _coryph\u00e6us_, or chorus-leader alone.\nDancing was also an essential feature, but both Greeks and Romans meant\nmore by dancing than do we, or than we did before the rise of \u201cSalome\u201d\nperformances. It was in fact a mimetic display, giving by the rhythmic\nmanipulation of all the limbs an imitation of the emotions expressed,\nor the events described, by the song. The whole company, moreover, went\nthrough certain evolutions over the surface of the orchestra. When\nthey sang the _strophe_[196] they moved in one direction, back again\nfor the _antistrophe_,[196] and perhaps stood still when there was an\n_epode_.[196] But nothing is known as to details here. The centre of\nall the dancing was the coryph\u00e6us (\u03ba\u03bf\u03c1\u03c5\u03c6\u03b1\u1fd6\u03bf\u03c2, \u201ctop man\u201d), the leader\nof the chorus; when two semi-choruses acted separately each had its\nleader. As was natural, choric dancing flourished mightily in the early\ndays, and went down with lyrical performance in general. Thus Phrynichus\ncongratulated himself on having devised \u201cas many figures of the dance as\nare the billows on the sea under a dread night of storm\u201d. \u00c6schylus too\nwas a brilliant ballet-master. But Plato, the comic playwright, at the\nend of the same century grumbles[197] amusingly:\u2014\n\n    There was something to watch when the dancing was good,\n      But now there\u2019s no acting to mention\u2014\n    Just a paralysed row of inflexible singers,\n      Who howl as they stand at attention.\n\nDuring the best period of the chorus its mimetic dancing must have been\na wonderful spectacle. We hear of highly-skilled performers who could\nreproduce action so that the audience followed every detail. They seem\nto have \u201caccompanied\u201d some portions of the episodes in this manner; and\nthat fact may account for a rather curious feature in the _Ion_. The\nmessenger gives a remarkably detailed description of the designs upon\nthe embroideries wherewith Ion roofed his great banqueting-marquee\u2014the\nconstellations and \u201cDawn pursuing the stars\u201d are all described. Possibly\nthis was written for the sake of an unusually brilliant mimetic evolution\nby groups of choreut\u00e6.\n\nThe chorus had other duties during the episodes. As a body they normally\nshowed themselves interested spectators; thus the chorus of _Orestes_\nenter in order to inquire of Electra concerning her sick brother. Not\ninfrequently they do more, taking an actual share in events. At the close\nof _Agamemnon_ the Argive elders are at point to do battle with \u00c6gisthus\nand his henchmen; in _Alcestis_ they join the funeral procession; at\nother times they aid the persons of the play, not only by misleading\nenemies (_Choephor\u0153_) or directing friends (_\u0152dipus Tyrannus_) but by\nkeeping watch (_Orestes_). Further, the coryph\u00e6us almost always delivers\ntwo or three lines at the end of every long speech, save when it ends a\nscene. These little interpolations are invariably obvious and feeble.\nAfter Hermione\u2019s tirade against women the coryph\u00e6us comments thus: \u201cToo\nfreely hast thou indulged thy tongue against thy sex. It is pardonable in\nthee, but still women should gloss over the weaknesses of women.\u201d Anyone\nwho has listened to the delivery of some splendid passage in Shakespeare,\nan outburst of Lear or Mercutio\u2019s Queen Mab speech, will remember how the\napplause which follows it drowns the next speaker\u2019s opening lines. Some\npause is needed. This is provided in Greek tragedy by the insertion of a\nline or two which will not be missed if inaudible.\n\nThe satyric chorus diverged little from the tragic in the points\ndiscussed under this section. It had, however, a special type of dance\ncalled the \u201cSikinnis\u201d. \u201cOne of the postures used ... was called the owl,\nand is variously explained by the old grammarians as having consisted in\nshading the eyes with the hands, or in turning the head to and fro like\nan owl.\u201d[198]\n\n\nVI. THE AUDIENCE\n\nThe time of the Dionysiac festivals, especially the great Dionysia, was\na holiday for all Athens, and the centre of enjoyment was the show of\ntragedies and comedies. At sunrise the theatre was filled with a huge\nthrong prepared to sit packed together for hours facing the sun with no\ninterval for a meal or for exercise. It is important to remember that in\nAthens that incalculable play-goer, \u201cthe average man,\u201d did really enjoy\nand appreciate first-class dramatic work.\n\nThere were a few rows of special seats for officials and persons\notherwise honoured by the State. All the rest of the space, save for the\nseparation of men and women, and the possibility that each _cercis_ was\nallotted to a distinct tribe, was open to all without distinction of\nrank or means. The official seats were in the front rows, and the first\nrow of all consisted of sixty-seven marble thrones, most of which are\nstill preserved _in situ_. Of these sixty-seven, fifty belonged\u2014as the\ninscriptions show\u2014to ecclesiastics, and the famous middle throne\u2014the\nbest and most conspicuous[199] place in the theatre\u2014was occupied by the\npriest of Dionysus of Eleuther\u00e6. Besides priests, the archons, the\ngenerals, and the ten judges had special places, also benefactors of the\nState or their descendants, and the sons of men who had fallen in battle.\nAmbassadors from abroad, too, received this compliment of \u03c0\u03c1\u03bf\u03b5\u03b4\u03c1\u03af\u03b1\n(\u201cforemost seat\u201d).\n\nBehind the dignified front circle of thrones rose tier after tier of\nstone benches, all alike and not marked off into separate seats, so that\nthe audience must usually have been crowded. They were also cramped, for\nthe height of each seat was but fifteen inches.[200] Spectators brought\nwith them any cushions they needed. Admission to the theatre was allowed\nin the first instance to any Athenian citizen. In spite of the indecency\nwhich was a normal[201] feature of the Old Comedy, there is no doubt that\nwomen and boys were present at the shows both of tragedy and comedy.\nSlaves and foreigners also were admitted, obtaining admission, like the\nboys and women, through citizens. Foreigners, except the distinguished\npersons to whom _proedria_ was granted, seem to have been confined to the\nextreme right and left _cercides_, next to the _parodoi_. All the seating\nwhich has been described dates from the time of the orator Lycurgus[202]\nin the fourth century; during the fifth Athens was content with wooden\nbenches, called _icria_ (\u1f34\u03ba\u03c1\u03b9\u03b1, \u201cplanks\u201d).\n\nAdmission was at first free, but the drama was so popular that the rush\nfor seats caused much confusion; it is said that the more sedulous would\nsecure places the night before. In the fifth century the custom arose\nof charging for admission, and making every one book in advance, save\nthose dignitaries whose places were reserved. The price for one day was\ntwo obols (about threepence in weight, but of much greater purchasing\npower). At the end of that century this sum was paid by the State to any\ncitizen who claimed it. The money allotted for this purpose was called\nthe \u201ctheoric\u201d fund (\u03c4\u1f78 \u03b8\u03b5\u03c9\u03c1\u03b9\u03ba\u03cc\u03bd, \u201cmoney for the shows\u201d), of which we\nhear so much in the speeches of Demosthenes. By his time the system had\ngrown to a serious danger. Payments were made, not only for the original\npurpose, but for all the numerous festivals, and a law was actually\npassed that anyone who proposed to apply the fund in any other way should\nbe put to death. Demosthenes represents the theoric fund and the Athenian\naffection for it as preventing Athens from supplying sufficient forces\nto check the growing menace from Philip of Macedonia. On paying in his\ntwo obols the spectator received a ticket of lead. The sums taken were\nappropriated by the lessee or _architecton_ who in consideration thereof\nkept the theatre in repair.\n\nAs the auditorium was filled with many thousands of lively Southerners,\nwho had to sit crammed together from sunrise till late in the day with\nno intermission, the question of good order might seem to have been\na hopeless difficulty. It was not so. For, first, the occasion was\nreligious, and to use blows in the theatre was a capital crime. Next,\nstewards (\u1fe5\u03b1\u03b2\u03b4\u03bf\u03c6\u03cc\u03c1\u03bf\u03b9, \u201crod-bearers\u201d) were at hand to keep order among\nthe choristers, who were numerous, seeing that each dithyrambic chorus\nconsisted of fifty men. Finally, a good deal of exuberant behaviour was\nallowed. Serious disturbance occasionally happened: the high-spirited\nAlcibiades once had a bout at fisticuffs with a rival choregus, and\nthe occasion of Demosthenes\u2019 speech against Meidias was the blow which\nMeidias dealt the orator when the latter was choregus.\n\nThough an Athenian audience had no objection, when comedy was played,\nto scenes which we should have supposed likely to strike them as\nblasphemous, they bitterly objected to any breach of orthodoxy in tragic\ndrama. \u00c6schylus once narrowly escaped death because it was thought\nthat a passage in his play constituted a revelation of the mysteries.\nEuripides,[203] too, incurred great trouble owing to the opening lines\nof _Melanippe the Wise_. Approval and dislike were freely expressed.\nIf the spectators admired a passage, shouts and clapping showed it: at\ntimes they would \u201cencore\u201d a speech or song with the exclamation \u03b1\u1f56\u03b8\u03b9\u03c2\n(\u201cagain\u201d). Still more often do we hear of their proneness to \u201cdamn\u201d a bad\nplay. Hissing[204] was common, and there was a special custom at Athens\nof kicking with the heels upon the benches to express disapproval\u2014a\nmethod which must have been effective in the time of wooden seats.\nPlaywrights were known to take vigorous means to win favour. That\ndistinguished writer of New Comedy, Philemon, is said to have defeated\nMenander himself by securing a large attendance of supporters to applaud\nhis work, and it is certain that writers of the Old Comedy frequently\ndirected their actors to throw nuts and similar offerings among the\naudience. In the _Peace_ of Aristophanes barley was thus distributed.\nThe spectators sometimes replied in kind. Bad performers were pelted\nwith fruit, at any rate in the country, and even stones were used in\nextreme cases. The celebrated \u00c6schines, during his career as a strolling\ntritagonist, was nearly stoned to death by his public.[205] But the fruit\nwas generally used in the city itself for another purpose. Aristotle\nillustrates a detail of psychology by pointing to the fact that \u201cin\nthe theatre people who eat dessert do so with most abandon when the\nperformers are bad\u201d.[206]\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER III\n\nTHE WORKS OF \u00c6SCHYLUS\n\n\nThe place of \u00c6schylus in dramatic history has been discussed in the first\nchapter. We have still to give some account of his seven extant plays and\nof the fragments.\n\nThe SUPPLICES[207] (\u1f39\u03ba\u03b5\u03c4\u03af\u03b4\u03b5\u03c2, \u201cSuppliant Women\u201d) is no doubt the earliest\nof these. The scene is laid near the sea-coast, not far from Argos. The\nchorus, consisting of the fifty daughters of Danaus, enter, and in their\nopening song tell how they have fled from Egypt to escape marriage with\ntheir cousins, the fifty sons of \u00c6gyptus. These suitors have pursued them\noverseas, but they call upon Zeus, who through Io is their ancestor,\nto defend them. Danaus, their father, urges them to take refuge upon\nthe steps of the altar.[208] This they do, becoming suppliants of the\nState-deities and acquiring a claim upon the citizens. The King of Argos\nenters; to him the women make their appeal. He replies that he must\nconsult the national assembly before facing the possibility of war with\nthe Egyptians; meanwhile he sends Danaus into the city to engage the\ncompassion of the Argives. After another song by the chorus, in which\nthey relate the wanderings of Io and her final peace, Danaus returns\nwith the news that the Argive assembly is unanimous in championing the\nSuppliants; the women burst forth into lyrical blessings upon the land.\nDanaus, who has been upon the watch, announces the approach of the\nhostile ships; he comforts his shrinking daughters, goes to fetch help,\nand does not return until the danger is over.[209] After a terrified\nlyric, the Egyptian herald appears, accompanied no doubt by warriors;\nhe harshly bids them go to the ship and submit to their masters. They\nrefuse. He is on the point of dragging them away when the King enters,\nrebukes the herald, and defies the power of Egypt. The intruder departs\nwith threats of war. Danaus returns, and with his daughters is given\nlodging within the city-walls. The chorus end the drama with an ode\nvoicing their fear of war and oppression.\n\nSuch a close evidently implies that the story was continued in another\nwork, and it has been conjectured that the _Egyptians_ and the _Danaides_\n(\u201cDaughters of Danaus\u201d) formed the second and third parts of the trilogy.\nScarcely anything of these two plays has been preserved, but there is\ngood reason to suppose that the Egyptians were victorious, that the\ndaughters of Danaus were compelled to marry their ferocious suitors,\nand that on the command of their father each slew her husband on the\nwedding-night. Hypermnestra alone spared her lover, by name Lynceus.\nIt seems that she was put on her trial for this disobedience and was\nsaved by the advocacy of Aphrodite, who thus foreshadows the Apollo\nof the _Eumenides_. The satyric play was perhaps the _Amymone_; this\nwas the name of one of the Danaides, who was delivered from a satyr by\nPoseidon. Viewed not historically, but \u00e6sthetically, especially by a\nreader already familiar with the _Oresteia_, the play must be confessed\nbald and monotonous. Many of \u00c6schylus\u2019 most splendid attributes, it\nis true, are to be discerned, but their fire too often sinks into\nsmouldering grimness. The only really fine passages are those portions of\nthe lyrics which bear the impress of the poet\u2019s masculine and profound\ntheology. Such strictures, however, are merely one way of saying that\nthe _Supplices_ is an early work. It would be fairer (were it only\npossible) to compare it with the drama of Phrynichus rather than with\nthe _Agamemnon_. Here, perhaps for the first time, we have a genuinely\ndramatic situation\u2014the collision between the king and the herald. There\nis little characterization. The chorus are simply distressed damsels\n(save for their vivid and strong religious faith), the king is simply a\nmagnanimous and wary monarch, the herald simply a \u201cmyrmidon\u201d. Danaus,\nhowever, shows some interesting traits. He is extremely sententious and\nrejoices in the fact: \u201cInscribe this on your hearts beside the many\nother precepts of your father written there\u201d.[210] His exhortation[211]\nto chaste behaviour, though long and (as his daughters assure him)\nunnecessary, is, albeit corrupt textually, one of the most striking\npassages in the play. But one feels that characterization is perhaps less\nneeded in a work which, literally from the first word, is filled with\nthe name of God, Zeus,[212] the ancestor of the Danaids, the lord of the\nuniverse, the guardian of right. \u201cAnd whensoever it is decreed by nod of\nZeus that a thing be brought to fullness, it falls not prostrate, but\non its feet. Yea, through thicket and shadow stretch the paths of his\ndecrees, that no thoughts can spy them out.\u201d[213] Equally majestic is the\nlanguage concerning that other Zeus[214] who judges the sins of men in\nHades. Finally, though the thought and diction are in the main stark if\ndignified, a change comes over the play before the end: we get a little\n\u201catmosphere\u201d. Danaus already fears personal enemies (v. 1008), and the\narrangements for lodging the suppliants show a tinge of domesticity.\n\nThe PERS\u00c6[215] (\u03a0\u03ad\u03c1\u03c3\u03b1\u03b9, \u201cMen of Persia\u201d), though perhaps twenty years\nlater, comes next among the surviving plays. The action takes place\nbefore the palace of Xerxes. It opens with a song from the chorus,\nwho represent aged councillors of the Persian Empire. They describe\nthe departure of the host which is to conquer Greece, and their own\nanxiety for news. Atossa, widow of Darius and mother of Xerxes, enters,\ndistressed by an ill-omened dream. The councillors discuss this portent\nand the prospects of victory. A messenger arrives who announces the\ncomplete overthrow of the \u201cbarbarians\u201d. The queen speedily rallies from\nher grief, learns that her son himself is safe, and hears the narrative\nof Salamis and the flight of the Persians back to Asia. She determines\nto offer supplications to Heaven and retires to fetch the materials of\nsacrifice; the chorus pour forth a lyric lament and deplore the loss\nof Darius the conqueror. Atossa returns bearing the libation which she\noffers to the shade of Darius, while the chorus invoke the dead king,\npraying him to appear and give counsel. In answer, the ghost of Darius\nrises from his tomb. He learns the evil tidings, laments the impious\nfolly of his son, and foretells the coming disaster of Plat\u00e6a. After\nthe shade has sunk back into the tomb, and Atossa has gone to meet\nXerxes,[216] the elders sing of Persia\u2019s greatness under Darius. Finally,\nXerxes appears, plunged in despair. Amid the antiphonal wailings of the\nking and his councillors the tragedy ends.\n\nThe scholiast says that \u201c\u00c6schylus won the prize in the archonship\nof Menon, with _Phineus_, _Pers\u00e6_, _Glaucus of Potni\u00e6_ and\n_Prometheus_\u201d.[217] This tetralogy seems (to judge from the titles\nand the fragments) to have been a collection of plays which had no\nrelation of subject-matter. Interesting to the historian as the only\nextant tragedy dealing with a contemporary subject, the _Pers\u00e6_ also\nwins the highest admiration as a piece of literature not unworthy of\nits theme. The muscular and majestic diction of the speeches, the\nnoble sweep of the lyrics, the colossal dignity of the characters,\nthe picturesqueness and vigour which make the story of Salamis one of\nthe greatest passages even in \u00c6schylus\u2014these are characteristics of\nthe poet which the _Supplices_ presents only in germ. But the noblest\nfeature of the whole is the manner in which \u00c6schylus has faced his\nchief obstacle. To dramatize the heroic spirit and overwhelming success\nof Athens in the presence of Athenians\u2014was this an easy task? Nothing\ncould be more cloying at the moment, more thin and unsatisfying to the\nafter-reflection. \u00c6schylus rises clear above all this. First, he places\nthe scene not in Athens, but before the gates of the palace at Susa; that\ndignity which elsewhere in Greek tragedy is secured by remoteness in\ntime, is here obtained by remoteness in space.[218] The whole incident\nis held at arm\u2019s length that it may be viewed with soberness, and as a\nwhole in perspective. Next, it has often been observed that on the one\nhand he chronicles a host of Asiatic nobles while on the other not a\nsingle Greek\u2014not even Themistocles\u2014is named. Both these facts spring from\nthe same source. \u00c6schylus, it cannot be repeated too often, was a deeply\nreligious man. When he takes it in hand to dramatize an event of recent\nhistory his instinct impels him, just as infallibly as if he were writing\nof Heracles or Prometheus, to describe occurrences not in the language\nof politics or of tactics, but of theology. Athens has been but the\ninstrument of Heaven; Persia has fallen, not through the brawn of oarsmen\nor the skill of captains, but through the blasphemous infatuation of her\nprince and the wrath of God following thereupon.\n\n                        O God, thy arm was here;\n    And not to us, but to thy arm alone,\n    Ascribe we all! When, without stratagem,\n    But in plain shock and even play of battle,\n    Was ever known so great and little loss\n    On one part and on th\u2019 other?\n    Take it, God, For it is none but thine![219]\n\nHe is little concerned with that play of human psychology on the Greek\nside, which forms so brilliant a page of Herodotus. Even when he narrates\nthat trick by which the conflict was precipitated, the false message from\nThemistocles to Xerxes, nothing is said of the reasons for sending it.\nThough the antecedent \u201cfacts\u201d are known, yet he chooses to tell what he\ndoes indeed regard as the truth, that the whole error of the king came\nfrom \u201ca fiend or evil spirit,\u201d and that he fell into the trap because \u201che\nperceived not the guile of the Greek nor _the spite of Heaven_\u201d.[220] On\nthe Greek side, then, \u201cthe creatures of a day\u201d are lost in the vision of\neternal righteousness. But the poet has no such reason to obliterate the\nmighty names of Persia. Almost the whole effect of them is for us lost;\nbut to an Athenian ear these barbaric polysyllables must have sounded\nwith all the pomp of an ancient chivalry, the waves of the boundless and\nterrible Orient descending in deluge upon the tiny states of Hellas. But\nthe billows at their highest had been stayed and had sunk; the appalling\nroll of warlike titles was changed into a proclamation of glory\u2014but not\nthe glory of Greece. No Greek name is immortalized in this play, which\nresounds at every moment with the name of God.\n\nThe SEVEN AGAINST THEBES[221] (\u039f\u1f31 \u1f19\u03c0\u03c4\u1f70 \u1f10\u03c0\u1f76 \u0398\u03ae\u03b2\u03b1\u03c2) was produced in 467\nB.C. and deals with the fratricidal quarrel of the sons of \u0152dipus.\nEteocles, the elder, had become King of Thebes and expelled his brother\nPolynices. The latter with six comrades-in-arms and an host led by\nAdrastus, King of Argos, attacked the city. The seven invading champions\nwere met at the seven gates by as many Theban warriors. The scene is laid\nin an open space in the town. A messenger brings to Eteocles the news\nthat the enemy are on the point of assaulting the walls. The chorus,\nconsisting of Theban maidens, enter, and in a vivid lyric express their\nfrantic terror. Eteocles attempts to calm them, urging that their\noutcries will demoralize the citizens; but soon they burst forth again\ninto wild forebodings. Then follows a long scene in which the messenger\ndescribes the seven heroes who are to attack at the seven gates. As each\nis described Eteocles allots one of his comrades for defence. The seventh\nenemy is Polynices, the king\u2019s own brother; Eteocles, spurred on by the\ncurse of his house, declares that he will himself confront Polynices. He\nrushes away and the maidens lament the frightful story of \u0152dipus\u2019 curse.\nThe messenger returns with the news that the invaders have been routed\nand that the brothers have fallen by each other\u2019s hand. After the chorus\nhave lamented this crime, the corpses are brought forward, accompanied\nby Antigone and Ismene, sisters of the dead, who utter an antiphonal\ndirge. They are interrupted by a herald who proclaims the decree of the\n\u201cpeople\u2019s councillors\u201d. Eteocles is to be honourably buried; his brother\nis to be left to the dogs and birds of prey. Antigone defies the decree\nand declares that she will bury Polynices. The chorus divide into two\nparties, one supporting Antigone, the other giving obedience to the State.\n\nThis tragedy won the prize. The trilogy consisted of _Laius_,\n_\u0152dipus_, the _Seven_, with the _Sphinx_ as satyric play. Aristeas and\nPolyphradmon, the sons of Pratinas and Phrynichus respectively, were\nsecond and third. Very little is known about the companion plays. The\n_Laius_ contained a reference to the exposure of the infant \u0152dipus; the\n_\u0152dipus_ described the death of Laius.\n\nThe _Seven_ is a magnificently vigorous and graphic presentment of war\nin one of its aspects. As such it is eulogized by Aristophanes, who puts\ninto the mouth of \u00c6schylus the boast that he \u201ccomposed a drama full of\nthe War-God\u2014my _Seven against Thebes_\u201d.[222] The chief excellences are\nthe first chorus and the celebrated Choosing of the Champions. This\nlatter contained the best-known passage in the play, where the messenger\nsays of Amphiaraus:\u2014[223]\n\n                    \u03c3\u1fc6\u03bc\u03b1 \u03b4\u2019 \u03bf\u1f50\u03ba \u1f10\u03c0\u1fc6\u03bd \u03ba\u03cd\u03ba\u03bb\u1ff3\n    \u03bf\u1f50 \u03b3\u1f70\u03c1 \u03b4\u03bf\u03ba\u03b5\u1fd6\u03bd \u1f04\u03c1\u03b9\u03c3\u03c4\u03bf\u03c2, \u1f00\u03bb\u03bb\u2019 \u03b5\u1f36\u03bd\u03b1\u03b9 \u03b8\u03ad\u03bb\u03b5\u03b9,\n    \u03b2\u03b1\u03b8\u03b5\u1fd6\u03b1\u03bd \u1f04\u03bb\u03bf\u03ba\u03b1 \u03b4\u03b9\u1f70 \u03c6\u03c1\u03b5\u03bd\u1f78\u03c2 \u03ba\u03b1\u03c1\u03c0\u03bf\u03cd\u03bc\u03b5\u03bd\u03bf\u03c2,\n    \u1f10\u03be \u1f27\u03c2 \u03c4\u1f70 \u03ba\u03b5\u03b4\u03bd\u1f70 \u03b2\u03bb\u03b1\u03c3\u03c4\u03ac\u03bd\u03b5\u03b9 \u03b2\u03bf\u03c5\u03bb\u03b5\u03cd\u03bc\u03b1\u03c4\u03b1.\n\n    His buckler bore no blazon; for he seeks\n    Not to seem great, but to be great indeed,\n    Reaping the deep-ploughed furrow of his soul\n    Wherefrom the harvest of good counsel springs.\n\nAs these lines were declaimed in the theatre, Plutarch[224] tells us,\nevery one turned and gazed at Aristides the Just. The first half of\nthe play is in strictness not dramatic[225] at all\u2014a merely static\npresentment of the situation: a city in a state of siege, panic among the\nwomen, resolution in the mind of the general. The later portion gives\nus decisive action. The King rushes to his fratricidal duel, spurred on\nby the invisible curse; but even here there is no dramatic conflict of\npersonalities like the altercation between the brothers in the _Ph\u0153niss\u00e6_\nof Euripides. Such a collision is, however, provided at the very end,\nwhere Antigone defies the State.\n\nAs regards the PROMETHEUS VINCTUS (\u03a0\u03c1\u03bf\u03bc\u03b7\u03b8\u03b5\u1f7a\u03c2 \u03b4\u03b5\u03c3\u03bc\u03ce\u03c4\u03b7\u03c2, \u201cPrometheus\nBound\u201d) we are in doubt as to the date, the arrangement of the cast, and\nthe other parts of the trilogy.\n\nConcerning the date, we know that the play was written after 475 B.C.,\nthe year in which occurred that eruption of Etna described by Prometheus\n(vv. 363-72). Further, it is usually regarded as later than the _Seven_\nowing to the increased preponderance of dialogue over lyrics. Also, the\nsupposition that three actors are required has led some scholars to\nbelieve that the _Prometheus_ belongs to the period when Sophocles had\nintroduced a third actor, and so to place it in the last part of the\npoet\u2019s life.[226] The static nature of the drama might seem to forbid\nsuch a view, but possibly it formed the centre of the trilogy, the most\nlikely place for an equilibrium of the tragic forces. And the theological\nbasis of the whole series is so profound, that an approximation in\ndate to the _Oresteia_ is not unreasonable. On the whole, then, the\n_Prometheus_ may be conjecturally assigned to about the year 465 B.C.\n\nAs for the division of the parts among the actors, we find in the opening\nscene three[227] persons engaged, Prometheus, Heph\u00e6stus, and Cratos\n(\u201cStrength\u201d). Prometheus, however, does not utter a word until his\ntormentors have retired, and it has been held that only two actors are\nneeded here (as in the rest of the work). On this view, Prometheus would\nbe represented by a lay-figure, either Heph\u00e6stus or Cratos would return\nunseen, delivering the later speeches of Prometheus from behind the\nfigure, through a mouth-piece in the head. But as there was no curtain\nin the theatre, it would be necessary for the executioners to carry the\nlay-figure forth in view of the audience before the action began. The\ntrue objection to this is not its absurdity; an audience will tolerate\nmuch awkwardness in stage-management, if only it is accustomed to such\nconventions. But it would scarcely have harmed the play if the poet had\ndispensed with Cratos; the actor thus disengaged could have impersonated\nPrometheus from the beginning. That \u00c6schylus saw this possibility\ncannot be doubted; therefore he did not feel bound to use a lay-figure;\ntherefore he did not, and we must assume that he employed three actors.\n\nTwo other tragedies were associated with this, _Prometheus the\nFire-bringer_ (\u03a0\u03c1\u03bf\u03bc\u03b7\u03b8\u03b5\u1f7a\u03c2 \u03c0\u03c5\u03c1\u03c6\u03cc\u03c1\u03bf\u03c2) and _Prometheus Unbound_ (\u03a0\u03c1\u03bf\u03bc\u03b7\u03b8\u03b5\u1f7a\u03c2\n\u03bb\u03c5\u03cc\u03bc\u03b5\u03bd\u03bf\u03c2). That the latter followed the extant play is of course\ncertain, but the position of the _Fire-bringer_ is doubtful. One would\nnaturally place it first in the trilogy: the offence, the punishment,\nthe reconciliation. But, say some, in that case one can hardly imagine\nhow \u00c6schylus wrote the first tragedy without anticipating a great part\nof the second\u2014the noble account which Prometheus gives of the victory of\nZeus, his own offence, and the blessings it conferred upon men. Hence\narises a theory that the _Fire-bringer_ was the last play of the trilogy\nin which the Titan, reconciled to Zeus, became a local deity of Athens,\nthe giver of fire. But this view has been discredited by evidence[228]\nthat there is not enough matter remaining for the _Fire-bringer_ after\nthe close of the _Prometheus Unbound_. These two difficulties about the\nposition of the _Fire-bringer_ have induced some to identify it with that\n_Prometheus_ which we know as the satyric play appended to the _Pers\u00e6_\ntrilogy, and to suppose that \u00c6schylus told the story in two plays only,\nthe present trilogy being completed by a tragedy unconnected with the\nsubject. The best view is that the _Fire-bringer_ was the first play;\nthe title suggests that it dealt with the transgression which led to\nthe punishment portrayed in the extant drama; and the objection as\nto overlapping of the _Fire-bringer_ and the _Prometheus Vinctus_ is\nillusory.\n\nThe scene is a desolate gorge in Scythia. Heph\u00e6stus, the God of Fire,\nwith Cratos and Bia, Strength and Violence, servants of Zeus, appear,\ndragging with them the Titan Prometheus. Heph\u00e6stus nails the prisoner\nto the rocks under the superintendence of Cratos; he has little liking\nfor his task, but Cratos rebukes his tenderness for the malefactor who\nhas braved Heaven in order to succour mankind. At length Prometheus is\nleft to his lonely agony. Hitherto he has been silent, but now he voices\nhis pain and indignation to the sea and sky and earth around him. His\nsoliloquy breaks off as he catches the sound of wings, and the chorus\nenter\u2014a band of sea-nymphs who have been startled from their cave by the\nclatter of iron. They strive to comfort him, and he tells how by his\ncounsel Zeus was enabled to defeat the Titans. Then, consolidating his\nempire, the god determined to destroy mankind and create a new race.\nPrometheus, in love of men, saved them from destruction and bestowed\nupon them the gift of fire, which he stole from Heaven and which has\nbeen the beginning of civilization. At this point Oceanus enters,\nriding upon a four-legged bird; he is a Titan who stood aloof from the\nconflict with Zeus. An amiable but obsolete person, he wishes to release\nPrometheus (without running into danger himself) and urges submission.\nThe prisoner listens with disdainful courtesy, refuses the advice, and\nhints to Oceanus that he had better not associate with a malefactor. His\nvisitor soon bustles away, and the chorus sing how all the nations of\nthe earth mourn over the torments of their deliverer. Prometheus then\ntells of the arts by which he has taught man to alleviate his misery.\nThe Nymphs ask if he has no hope of release himself; he hints at the\npossible downfall of Zeus. Another lyrical passage hymns the power of\nthat god and expresses surprise at the contumacy of the Titan. Then\nappears Io, the heifer-maiden, who at the request of the chorus describes\nher strange ill-fortune. Beloved of Zeus, she has incurred the wrath of\nhis queen, Hera, who has changed her into a heifer and sent her roaming\nwildly over the earth pursued by a gadfly. Prometheus prophesies her\nfuture wanderings, which shall end in Egypt. He speaks more clearly of\nthe fall of Zeus, who is preparing to wed one who shall bear a child\ngreater than his father. Then he narrates the story of Io\u2019s course up to\nthe present hour, ending with the prophecy that in Egypt she shall bear\nto Zeus a son named Epaphus. He speaks of the history of this man\u2019s line,\nparticularly of one \u201ccourageous, famed for archery\u201d who shall release\nPrometheus. Io, in a sudden paroxysm, rushes from the scene. The chorus\nsing of the dangers which lie in union with the Gods. Prometheus again\nforetells the overthrow of Zeus by his own son. Hermes, the messenger\nof Zeus, enters demanding that the prisoner reveal the fatal secret.\nPrometheus treats his message with defiance. Hermes warns him of still\nmore fell tortures: the \u201cwinged hound of Zeus\u201d will come each day to tear\nhis liver; a convulsion of the earth will hurl him into Hades. The nymphs\nagain urge submission, but when the messenger declares that unless they\nleave Prometheus they will perchance suffer too, they haughtily refuse\nto listen. Amid an upheaval of the whole of Nature, the Titan, still\ndefiant, sinks from sight.\n\nThe _Prometheus Vinctus_ has impressed all generations of readers with\nwonder and delight; in particular it has inspired poetry only less\nmagnificent than itself. Shelley\u2019s _Prometheus Unbound_ is a gorgeous\namplification of its spiritual and material features. The sinister and\nterrific figure which dominates the early part of _Paradise Lost_ is\nbut Prometheus strayed at an untoward hour into Christian mythology.\nAgain, this play is the noblest surviving example of the purely \u00c6schylean\nmanner. The _Oresteia_ is greater, perhaps, certainly more interesting\nto us; but there \u00c6schylus has reacted to the spirit of Sophocles. Here,\nthe stark hauteur of the _Supplices_ has developed into a desolate\nmagnificence. The lyrics which, since the _Seven_, have again dwindled\nin size, have yet grown in beauty, variety, and characterization. On the\nother side, there is a development of the dialogue which is amazing. Long\nspeeches are still the rule, but line-by-line conversations are frequent.\nCharacters in the _Supplices_ and the _Seven_ talk as if blank-verse\ndialogue were a strange and difficult art\u2014as indeed it was till \u00c6schylus\nforged it into shape. Throughout, whether in lengthy speeches or in\nconversation, the iambic metre has found a grace and suppleness which is\ntoo often ignored by those who come to the _Prometheus_ fresh from the\n_Medea_ or the _\u0152dipus Tyrannus_. Above all, the maturity of \u00c6schylus\u2019\npoetic strength is to be seen in the terrific perspectives which he\nbrings before us\u2014perspectives of time, as the voice of the tortured\nprophet carries us down a vista of centuries through the whole history of\nIo\u2019s race to the man of destiny; perspectives of scenery, as the eye of\nthe Ocean-Nymphs from the summit of earth gazes down upon the tribes of\nmen, horde behind horde fading into the distance, all raising lament for\nthe sorrows of their saviour; perspectives of thought, as the exultant\nhistory of civilization leaps from the lips of him who dies hourly\nthrough untold years to found and uphold it, telling how that creeping\nvictim of his own helplessness and the disdain of Heaven goes from\nweakness to strength and from strength to triumph.\n\nNo less wonderful is the strictly dramatic economy of the play. The\naction is slight. Prometheus works no more; it is his part to endure.\nAll the secondary characters act as a foil to bring the central figure\ninto massive relief. Each has some touch of Prometheus: Heph\u00e6stus, pity\nwithout self-sacrifice; Cratos, strength without reflection; the Nymphs,\ntenderness without force; Oceanus, common-sense without dignity; Io,\nsensibility to suffering without the vision which learns the lesson\nof pain; Hermes, the power to serve without perception of the secret\nof sovereignty. Most essential of all these is Io. The only human\nparticipant in the action, she reminds us that the hand of Zeus has been\nheavy upon innocent mortals as well as rebel gods, and thus gives fresh\njustification to the wrath of Prometheus. Still more, she is vital to the\nwhole trilogy. As Heph\u00e6stus links the _Fire-bringer_ to the second play,\nso does she join the second play to the _Prometheus Unbound_. It is her\ndescendant Heracles who after thirteen generations will free Prometheus\nand reconcile him to Zeus; the hero of the last drama is brought in a\nsense upon the scene in the person of his ancestress. Prometheus himself\nsuggests to us the thought of Christ; and yet (as has been said) the\nSatan of Milton is like him too. This double kinship is made possible by\nthe conception of Zeus which here obtains. Under the sceptre of a god\nwho hates mankind it is possible for the saviour of men to be a rebel\nand an outcast. Right or wrong, the Titan is godlike in his goodness,\nhis wisdom, his courage. At one point only does his deity show a flaw;\nhe endures his pangs not as a god, but as a man; he agonizes, he laments\nhis pains, he utters exclamations of fear. Rightly, for if the actors in\nthis world-drama are immortal, the spectators are not. To have portrayed\nPrometheus as facing his punishment without a quiver would have been\nperhaps sounder theology, but worse drama; the human audience must be\nmade to understand something at least of these pangs, or the greatness\nof the sacrifice will elude them. A parallel on which we must not dilate\ncannot escape the reader. One strange outcome of his rebellion is\ngenerally overlooked. Zeus had wished to destroy mankind and create a new\nrace. That is, he meant to treat men as he treated the Titans\u2014or would\nhave treated them had they been mortal. Prometheus thwarted this plan, so\nthat we men are a survival of that pre-moral world which the new ruler\nsupersedes. We are the younger brothers of the Titans and (so to put it)\nhave all survived the Flood. Our pettiness and futility condemned us in\nthe eyes of Zeus, who wished for progress; but Prometheus loved us in\nspite of our miserable failings, and so insisted on carrying us over into\nthe new and nobler world at the cost of his own age-long agony.\n\nThe basic question must be briefly discussed\u2014the relation of Prometheus\nto the new King of Heaven. Zeus is here described as a youthful tyrant,\nblind to all rights and interests save the security of his recent\nconquest. This cannot have been the picture presented by the whole\ntrilogy. Not only is enough known of \u00c6schylus\u2019 religious views to make\nsuch a theory impossible; though the _Prometheus Unbound_ is lost\nwe know the story in outline. Heracles in his wanderings came upon\nPrometheus, now released from Hades, but still chained to his rock and\ngnawed by the vulture. The hero slew the bird with an arrow, and procured\nthe release of Prometheus by inducing the wounded Centaur Chiron to go\ndown to death in his place, and by reconciling the Titan to Zeus, who\npromised to free him on hearing the secret of the fatal marriage.[229]\nPrometheus, to commemorate his captivity, assumed a ring of iron. The\nauthority of the King of Gods was thus for ever established. It is\nonly in a different atmosphere that any inconsistency can be felt.\nFor \u00c6schylus there was a progress in the history of Heaven as in the\ncivilization of earth. Even Zeus in the early days of his dominion seeks\nto rule by might divorced from wisdom, a severance typified by his\nfeud with Prometheus. He has his lesson to learn like all others; if\nhe will not govern with the help of law, bowing to Fate, then the hope\nof the Universe is vain and the blind forces of unguided Nature, the\nhalf-quelled Titans, will bring chaos back. But youthful and harsh as he\nis, his will has a moral foundation, unlike theirs; and so perhaps it is\nthat Prometheus cannot but exclaim \u201cI sinned\u201d in opposing that will. Upon\nthe reconciliation between Zeus and his antagonist, Prometheus became a\nlocal Attic deity and no more. That eternal wisdom which he embodied is\nmysteriously assimilated into the soul of Zeus. This is the consummation;\nomnipotence and omniscience are at one.\n\nWe arrive finally at the trilogy which bears the name ORESTEIA and\nwhich obtained the prize in 458 B.C. This is the only instance in which\nthe whole series has survived; the satyric play, _Proteus_,[230] has\nperished. The name _Oresteia_ was applied to the whole tetralogy.\n\nThe background of the AGAMEMNON[231] is the palace of King Agamemnon at\nArgos. A sentinel is discovered upon the roof; he is watching for the\nbeacon which shall signify that Troy has at length fallen. While waiting\nhe broods, dropping hints that all is not well at home. Then the beacon\nflashes forth, and he shouts the news to the Queen Clyt\u00e6mnestra within\nthe house. On his departure the chorus enter, aged councillors of Argos,\nwho have not yet heard the tidings. They sing of the quarrel between\nGreece and Troy and describe the sacrifice of Iphigenia, Agamemnon\u2019s\ndaughter, who was offered up to Artemis in order to obtain a favourable\nwind for the fleet. All the altars are blazing with incense; Clyt\u00e6mnestra\nenters, and they ask her the reason. Troy, she replies, was taken last\nnight; a system of beacons has been arranged; the signal has spread over\nsea and land before dawn. She ponders over the state of the captured\ncity and hopes that the victors have not sinned against the gods of\nTroy. The old men sing praise to Heaven and moralize on the downfall of\nhuman pride. A herald appears, announcing that Agamemnon has landed and\nwill soon reach the city; he dilates on the miseries of the campaign,\ntill the queen sends him away with her welcome to Agamemnon. The chorus\ncall him back and ask news of Menelaus, the king\u2019s brother; Menelaus,\nhe replies, is missing: as the Greeks were sailing home a tempest arose\nwhich scattered the fleet. Agamemnon\u2019s ship has returned alone. The\nelders, after he has gone, sing of Helen and the deadly power of her\nbeauty. Agamemnon arrives, accompanied by the daughter of the Trojan King\nPriam, Cassandra the prophetess, who has become his unwilling concubine.\nClyt\u00e6mnestra greets him with effusiveness, to which he responds\nhaughtily. She persuades him against his will to walk into the palace\nover rich carpets like an Oriental conqueror, and accompanies him within\ndoors. The chorus express forebodings which they cannot understand. The\nqueen comes forth and orders Cassandra within, to be present at the\nsacrifice of thanksgiving, but the captive pays no heed and Clyt\u00e6mnestra\nin anger retires. The elders attempt to encourage the silent girl, who at\nlast breaks forth into incoherent cries, not of fear but of horror, and\nutters vague but frightful prophecies of bloodshed and sin, punctuated\nby the bewildered questions of her hearers. She tells them that they\nwill see the death of Agamemnon, bewails her own wretchedness, greets\nher death, and prophesies the coming of an avenger. She passes into the\nhouse. After a lyric on wicked prosperity, the voice of the king is heard\ncrying within that he has been mortally wounded. Another shriek follows,\nand then silence. The chorus are in a tumult, when the doors are flung\nopen and Clyt\u00e6mnestra is seen standing over the corpses of Agamemnon and\nCassandra. She has slain the king with an axe, entrapping him in the\nfolds of a robe while in his bath. In reply to the furious accusations\nof the elders she glories in her act\u2014she is the personification of\nthe ancestral curse; and she has avenged the murder of Iphigenia. The\naltercation has for the moment reached something like calm, when \u00c6gisthus\nappears. He is the cousin of Agamemnon, but between the two families\nthere is a murderous and adulterous feud; \u00c6gisthus himself is the lover\nof Clyt\u00e6mnestra and has shared in the plot. The Argives turn on him in\nhatred and contempt, which he answers with tyrannical threats. They\nremind him that Orestes, the king\u2019s young son, is alive and safe abroad.\nSwords are drawn, but Clyt\u00e6mnestra insists that the quarrel shall cease;\nshe and \u00c6gisthus must rule with dignity.\n\nA novel theory of the plot has been put forward by the late Dr. A.\nW. Verrall in his edition of the play.[232] He finds the following\ndifficulties in the usual acceptation: (i) Agamemnon lands in Argos on\nthe morning after the night in which Troy was captured, though as a\nmatter of course and a matter of \u201chistory\u201d several days (at the very\nleast) must have elapsed before the Greek host so much as embarked; and\nthough a storm has befallen the fleet on its way. (ii) The story given by\nClyt\u00e6mnestra about the beacons is absurd. Why has the arrangement existed\nfor only one year of the ten? Why make an arrangement which would depend\nso entirely on the weather? How could the beacon on Mount Athos have been\nseen from Eub\u0153a (a hundred miles away) when a tempest was raging on the\nintervening sea? (iii) This mystery, that Agamemnon reaches home only\ntwo or three hours after his signal, is never cleared up: neither he nor\nthe queen mentions it when they meet. (iv) Thus the whole affair of the\nbeacons is gratuitous as well as incredible. (v) We are not told how\nAgamemnon was slain. That is, though the poet is precise enough about the\ndetails of the actual murder, we are not enlightened as to how a great\nand victorious prince could be killed with impunity by his wife and her\nlover, who thereupon, with no difficulty, usurp the government. (vi) What\ndoes \u00c6gisthus mean by claiming to have contrived the whole plot? On the\nface of it he has done nothing but skulk in the background. Dr. Verrall\u2019s\nexplanation, set forth with splendid lucidity, skill, and brilliance, may\nbe briefly summarized thus. For a year Clyt\u00e6mnestra and \u00c6gisthus have\nbeen joined in a treasonable and adulterous league, \u00c6gisthus knows what\nis happening at Troy and has the first news of Agamemnon\u2019s landing (at\nnight). He lights upon Mount Arachn\u00e6us a beacon which tells Clyt\u00e6mnestra\nthat all is ready. (Her story of the fire-chain is a lie to deceive\nthe watchman and the elders.) Agamemnon thus naturally arrives only an\nhour or two after the news that Troy has fallen. The assassination-plot\nsucceeds for various reasons. During the ten years\u2019 war many citizens\nof Argos have been alienated from the king by the enormous loss\nof Greek lives. Hence the usurpers have a strong body of potential\nadherents. In fact, several passages which our texts attribute to the\nchorus really belong to conspirators. Next, Agamemnon by the accident\nof the storm has with him, not the great host, but a single ship\u2019s\ncompany. Finally, though he has heard much ill of his wife\u2014this only can\naccount for the brutality wherewith he greets her\u2014he does not suspect\nher resourcefulness, wickedness, and courage. Verrall\u2019s theory should\nprobably be accepted.\n\nThis tragedy is beyond compare the greatest work of \u00c6schylus. The lyrics\nsurpass those of any other drama. To the majesty and scope familiar\neverywhere in \u00c6schylean choric writing, and to the tenderness which\ndiffuses a gentle gleam through the _Prometheus_, are now added matchless\npathos and the authentic thrill of drama. The picture of Iphigenia (vv.\n184-249) is not merely lovely and tearful beyond words; it is a marvel\nthat this gloomy colossus of the stage should for a moment have excelled\nEuripides on Euripides\u2019 strongest ground; it is as if Michelangelo\nhad painted Raffaelle\u2019s \u201cMadonna of the Grand Duke\u201d amid the prophets\nand sibyls of the Sistine Chapel. Even more poignant, because more\nsimple, are the brief lines (vv. 436-47) which tell how the War-God,\nthe money-changer of men\u2019s bodies, sends back from Troy a handful of\ncharred dust, the pitiful return for a man who has departed into the\nmarket-place of Death. Best known of all perhaps is the passage (vv.\n402-26) which portrays the numb anguish of a deserted husband. Further,\nthese lyrics are dramatic. The choric songs do not suspend the action\nby their sublime elucidations; the comments enable us to understand the\nmarch of events, giving us the keynote of the scene which follows each\nlyric. For instance, when the first stasimon dilates, not upon the glory\nof conquest, but upon the fall of pride and the sorrows of war, we are\nprepared for the herald and his tale in which triumph is overborne by\nthe memory of hardship and tempest. The misgivings which brood over\nthe third stasimon, in spite of the victorious entry of the king which\nhas just been witnessed, is a fit prelude to the terrible outbreaks of\nCassandra.\n\nThe characterization shows a marked advance on the _Prometheus_ in\nvariety and colour. This is not so much because three actors are needed\nas against two in the earlier play; for though they are necessary,\ncomparatively little use is made of the increased facilities. But,\nwhile Clyt\u00e6mnestra is technically as great a creation as Prometheus,\nthe secondary persons are much more interesting in themselves than in\nthe earlier drama. They do of course form a series of admirable foils\nto the queen, but they are worthy of careful study for their own sakes,\nwhich cannot be said very heartily for the lesser personages of the\n_Prometheus_. The sentinel is excellent, sketched in a few lines with a\nsureness of touch which is a new thing in this poet\u2019s minor characters.\nThe sense of impending trouble mixed with expected joy, the flavour\nof rich colloquialism about his speech, and the hearty dance upon the\npalace-roof wherewith he hails the beacon, make him live. Even more\ncommonplace, theoretically, is the part given to the herald, but him\nagain \u00c6schylus has created a real man. The passionate joy with which he\ngreets his native soil, and the lugubrious relish wherewith he details\nthe hardships of the army before Troy, make him our friend at once, and\npresent us with that sense of atmosphere which is often lacking in Greek\ntragedy. Agamemnon may seem a disappointing figure; very naturally, for\nit is the poet\u2019s purpose to disappoint us. To depict a great and noble\nking would have spoiled the splendid effect of Clyt\u00e6mnestra. Agamemnon\u2019s\nmurder must be made for the moment as intelligible as may be, therefore\nthe dramatist shows us a conceited, heavy-witted, pompous person who none\nthe less reveals certain qualities which have made it possible for such a\nman to overthrow Troy.\n\nClyt\u00e6mnestra is \u00c6schylus\u2019 masterpiece\u2014not indeed a masterly picture of\nfemale character; such work was left to others\u2014but a superb presentment\nof a woman dowered with an imperial soul, pressed into sin by the memory\nof her murdered child, the blind ambition of her husband, and the\nconsciousness of an accursed ancestry. Here, as elsewhere in these three\ntragedies, the architectural skill with which \u00c6schylus plans his trilogy\ninvite the closest study. In this first part, all the justification which\nClyt\u00e6mnestra can claim is held steadily before the eyes. The slaughter\nof Iphigenia, which killed her love for Agamemnon, is dwelt upon early\nin the play and recalled by her once and again during her horrible\nconversation with the chorus after the king\u2019s death. Another wrong to her\nis brought visibly upon the scene in the person of Cassandra. The sordid\nside of her vengeance, her amour with \u00c6gisthus, remains hardly hinted at\nuntil the very end, where it springs into overwhelming prominence\u2014but at\nthe very moment when we are preparing to pass over to the _Choephor\u0153_,\nthe second great stage of the action, in which the mission of Orestes is\nto be exalted. Clyt\u00e6mnestra has been often compared to Lady Macbeth. But\nShakespeare\u2019s creation is more feminine than that of the Athenian. She\nevinces inhuman heartlessness and cynicism till the task is accomplished;\nbefore the play ends she is broken for ever. Clyt\u00e6mnestra never falters\nin her resolution, hardly a quiver reveals the strain of danger and\nexcitement upon her nerves while success is still unsure. When the deed\nis accomplished and the strain relaxed, then, instead of yielding to\nhysterical collapse, she is superbly collected.[233] Years after, she\nre-appears in the _Choephor\u0153_, but time, security, and power have, to all\nseeming, left little mark upon this soul of iron. At the last frightful\nmoment when she realizes that vengeance is knocking at the gate, her\ncourage blazes up more gloriously than ever: \u201cGive me the axe, this\ninstant, wherewith that man was slain\u201d.[234] It is a superb defiance;\nfor thrilling audacity this passage stands perhaps alone until we come to\nthe splendid \u201cStand neuter, Gods, this once, I do invoke you,\u201d with which\nVanbrugh[235] rises, for his moment, into the heights where \u00c6schylus\nabode. Yet next moment the knowledge that her lover is dead brings her to\nher knees.\n\nCassandra and \u00c6gisthus have not yet been considered, for they belong also\nto the next topic\u2014the method in which the unity of the play is so handled\nthat it does not interfere with, but helps to effect, the unity of the\nwhole trilogy. The indescribable power and thrill of Cassandra\u2019s scene\nmay easily blind us to the slightness of the character-drawing. Simply as\na character, the princess is no more subtly or carefully studied than the\nherald; the extraordinary interest which surrounds her arises not from\nwhat she is or does but from what happens to her. She is the analogue of\nIo in the _Prometheus_. The mere structure of both plays allots to Io and\nCassandra precisely the same functions. Passive victims of misfortune,\nthey are the symbol and articulation of the background in the particular\ndrama; further, they are vital to the economy of the whole series, in\nthat they sum up in themselves the future happenings which the later\nportions of it are to expound. So far, they are the same; but when we\ngo beyond theoretical structure and look to the finished composition,\nCassandra far outshines Io. The Argive maiden suffers, shrinks, and\nlaments in utter perplexity. The Trojan suffers, but she does not quail;\nher lamentations are hardly lamentations at all, so charged are they with\nlofty indignation, and the sense of pathos in human things. Io is broken\nby her calamity; Cassandra is purified and schooled. The poet who in this\nvery play sings that suffering is the path to wisdom has not made us wait\nlong for an example. There is, too, a definite technical advance in this,\nthat Io merely hears the prophecy of justification and the possibility\nof revenge, while Cassandra in her own person foretells the return of\nOrestes.\n\n\u00c6gisthus also, but less obviously, is important to the progress of the\ntrilogy. His appearance and his speeches are no anti-climax to the\nsplendid scene of Clyt\u00e6mnestra\u2019s triumph. The queen and Cassandra have\ntalked of the Pelopid curse; \u00c6gisthus is the curse personified. It is\nthrough ancient wickedness that he has passed a half-savage life of\nbrooding exile; the sins of his fathers have turned him into a man fit to\nbetter their instruction. Again, this last scene brings before us in full\npower that aspect of Clyt\u00e6mnestra which has been almost ignored\u2014her baser\nreason for the murder of her husband. This is done precisely at the right\nplace. To dwell on the queen\u2019s intrigue earlier would have deprived her of\nthat measure of sympathy which throughout this first play she needs. Not\nto have depicted it at all would have left that sympathy unimpaired, and\nwe should have entered upon the _Choephor\u0153_ fatally unable to side with\nOrestes in his horrible mission.\n\nThe story of the CHOEPHOR\u0152[236] (\u03a7\u03bf\u03b7\u03c6\u03cc\u03c1\u03bf\u03b9, \u201cLibation-Bearers\u201d) is as\nfollows. The back-scene throughout probably represents the palace of\nArgos; in the orchestra[237] is the tomb of Agamemnon. Something like\nten years have elapsed since the usurpation of \u00c6gisthus. Orestes, son\nof the murdered king, accompanied by his friend Pylades, enters and\ngreets his father\u2019s grave, laying thereon a lock of his hair in sign of\nmourning; they withdraw. The chorus (led by Electra) enter\u2014attendants\nof Electra carrying libations, to be poured in prayer upon Agamemnon\u2019s\ntomb. Their song expresses their grief, hints at revenge, and explains\nthat they have been sent by Clyt\u00e6mnestra herself, who is terrified by a\ndream interpreted to signify the wrath of Agamemnon\u2019s spirit. Electra\ndiscusses the situation with her friends, and pours the libations over\nthe mound in her own name, not on behalf of her mother, calling upon\nthe gods and Agamemnon\u2019s spirit to bring Orestes home and punish the\nmurderess. Electra discovers the tress of hair left by Orestes. That\nit has come from him she knows, as it resembles her own;[238] he must\nhave sent it. In the midst of her excitement, she perceives footprints;\nthese, too, she recognizes as like her own. Suddenly Orestes appears and\nreveals himself. She still doubts, but he exhibits a piece of embroidery\nwhich she herself worked long ago. Electra falls into his arms; Orestes\nexplains to his friends that Apollo has sent him home as an avenger. In\na long lyrical scene (\u03ba\u03bf\u03bc\u03bc\u03cc\u03c2), the chorus, Electra, and Orestes invoke\nAgamemnon to assume life and activity in aid of his avenger.[239] The\nchorus leader tells Orestes of Clyt\u00e6mnestra\u2019s vision. She dreamed that\nshe gave birth to a snake, which drew blood from her breast. He expounds\nthis as foretelling the death of the queen at his hands. Explaining that\nhe and his followers will gain admission to the palace as travellers,\nhe departs. The maidens raise a song of astonishment at the crimes of\nwhich mortals are capable, dwelling especially upon the treachery of an\nevil woman. Orestes comes back accompanied by his followers, and tells\nthe porter that he brings news for the head of the house. Clyt\u00e6mnestra\nappears, and receives the feigned message that Orestes is dead. The queen\nis apparently overwhelmed, but bids the visitors become her guests.\nWhile the chorus utter a brief prayer for success, the aged nurse of\nOrestes comes forth, in grief for the loss of her foster-son. She tells\nthe chorus she has been despatched by Clyt\u00e6mnestra to summon \u00c6gisthus\nand his bodyguard, that he may question the strangers. They persuade her\nto alter the message; let \u00c6gisthus come unattended. When she has gone,\nthey raise another lyric in passionate encouragement of Orestes. \u00c6gisthus\nenters and goes into the guest-wing of the house; in a moment his scream\nis heard; the chorus retire.[240] A servant of \u00c6gisthus bursts forth,\nproclaiming the death of his master. He flings himself upon the main\ndoor, desperately shouting for Clyt\u00e6mnestra, who in a moment appears. His\nmessage, \u201cThe dead are slaying them that live,\u201d is clear to her: doom is\nat hand, but she calls for her murderous axe. Orestes rushes out upon her\nwith drawn sword. His first words announce the death of \u00c6gisthus, and she\nbeseeches him piteously for mercy. Orestes, unnerved, asks the counsel\nof Pylades, who for the first and last time speaks, reminding the prince\nof his oath and the command of Heaven. Clyt\u00e6mnestra is driven within to\nbe slain beside her lover. After a song of triumph from the chorus, the\ntwo corpses are displayed to the people; beside them stands Orestes who\nbrings forth the blood-stained robe wherein Agamemnon was entangled.\nThe sight of it brings upon the speaker a perturbation strange even in\nsuch circumstances. It is the coming of madness. He sees in fancy the\nFuries sent by his mother\u2019s spirit, and rushes away to seek at Delphi the\nprotection which Apollo has promised. The play ends with a few lines from\nthe chorus lamenting the sinful history of the house.\n\nThe _Choephor\u0153_ is less popular with modern readers than either of its\ncompanions. This is owing partly to the difficulty of perusal, for\nthe text of the lyrics is often corrupt; it is still more due to no\naccident, but to technique. The second play of a trilogy was usually more\nstatuesque than the other two. There is, of course, a progress of events,\nnot merely a Phrynichean treatment of a static theme; but the poet\ncarefully retards his speed. Thus the _Choephor\u0153_ should be compared\nrather with the _Prometheus_ than with the _Agamemnon_. We then observe\nan improvement\u2014if we wish to call it so\u2014in construction. The great Commos\nkeeps the play almost[241] at a standstill; but the rest of the work is\nfull of dramatic vigour.\n\nIt is true that none of the characters has the arresting quality of those\nin the _Agamemnon_. The nurse is a worthy companion to the watchman\u2014her\nquaint and explicit references to the trouble caused her by Orestes when\na baby are the most remarkable among the few comic touches found in our\npoet; and the part of the slave who gives the alarm, minute indeed, is\nyet the finest of its kind in Greek tragedy. But the persons of greater\nimport\u2014Electra, \u00c6gisthus, and Pylades\u2014would not have taxed the skill of\na moderate playwright. Clyt\u00e6mnestra is magnificent, but less through\nher present part than through the superb continuation of her r\u00f4le in\nthe _Agamemnon_; her scenes are brief, like the glimpse of a fierce\nsunset after a lowering day. She is the only person characterized,\nexcept, indeed, Orestes, and even he through most of the drama is not\na character, but a purpose and a few emotions speaking appropriate\nsentences. This is true even of the scene where he condemns his mother.\nThe only touch of genuine drama is the instant where he quails before her\nentreaty; but though this is real enough, it is not great. The undoubted\npower of the scene is due not to dramatic skill, but to the intrinsic\nhorror of the situation, \u00c6schylus has given us almost as little as we\ncould expect. But turn the page and study Orestes\u2019 address to the Argive\nstate\u2014the increase in dramatic force is appalling. He begins by stately,\nvigorous, and impassioned eloquence equal to almost anything in the\n_Agamemnon_. The blood-stained robe is displayed, and the hideous sight\nseems to eat into his brain. His grip on what he means to say slips;\nhe struggles to recapture it; one can see his failing mind stagger from\nthe mother of whom he strives to speak to the garment of death before\nhim. A word rises to the surface of his thoughts, he snatches at it, but\nit brings up with it the wrong phrase. The horror passes into us; this\nhalf-madness is not lunatic incoherence but the morbidly subtle coherence\nof a masterful mind struggling against insanity. The deadly net entangles\nhis brain as it entangled his fathers body. By a final effort he collects\nhimself and declares that he goes to Delphi to claim the protection and\ncountenance of Heaven. Then his doom settles upon him; the Furies arise\nbefore him and he flees distraught.\n\nThat such immense force should be manifested only at the end of the\nplay, that until and during the crisis \u00c6schylus exerts only sufficient\ndramatic energy to present his situations intelligibly, is the most\nsignificant fact in the _Choephor\u0153_. This is deliberate in an artist who\nhas composed the _Agamemnon_ and the _Eumenides_. In the opening stage\nit is human sin and courage which provide the rising interest; in the\nthird the righteousness and wisdom of the Most High unloose the knot and\nsave mankind; at both periods personality is the basis of action. But\nin the middle stage the master is not personality, but the impersonal\nFury demanding blood in vengeance for blood, a law of life and of the\nuniverse, named by a name but possessing no attributes. This law may be\ncalled by a feminine title Erinys; it is called also by a phrase: \u201cDo and\nSuffer\u201d;[242] it is the shade of Agamemnon, thirsting\u2014is it for blood as\na bodily drink or for death as expiation?\u2014and sending the dark progeny\nof his soul up from Hades. This fact, then, and no person, it is which\ndominates the play, and that is why the persons concerned are for the\ntime no magnificent figures of will or valour or wisdom, but the panting\ndriven thralls of something unseen which directs their movements and\ndecides their immediate destiny.\n\nThe plot of the third play, the EUMENIDES[243] (\u0395\u1f50\u03bc\u03b5\u03bd\u03af\u03b4\u03b5\u03c2, \u201cthe Kindly\nOnes,\u201d an euphemistic name of the Furies) is as follows. Outside the\nshrine at Delphi, the Pythian priestess utters a prayer to all the\ndeities connected with the spot, after which she enters the sanctuary.\nAlmost instantly she returns in horror, and tells how she has seen a\nblood-stained man seated upon the _Omphalos_ and round him a band of\nsleeping females, loathly to the sight. She departs. From the temple\nthe god appears[244] with his suppliant Orestes, whom he encourages\nand sends forth (led by the god Hermes) on his wanderings, which are\nto end in peace at Athens. When the two have disappeared, the ghost of\nClyt\u00e6mnestra rises and awakens the sleeping Furies. They burst forth\nfrom the temple in frenzy at the escape of their victim. In the midst\nof the clamour Apollo, with words of contemptuous hatred, bids them\nbegone. The scene now changes to Athens, where Orestes throws himself\nupon the protection of the goddess Athena, whose statue he clasps. In\na moment the chorus of Furies enter in pursuit; they discover Orestes\nand describe the horrible doom which he must suffer. He defies them and\ncalls upon the absent Athena. But they circle about him chanting their\nfearful \u201cbinding-song\u201d\u2014the proclamation of their office and rights as the\nimplacable avengers of bloodshed and every other sin. As their strains\ndie away Athena enters. She hears the dispute in outline, the Furies\ninsisting that for matricide there can be no pardon, Orestes declaring\nthat he has been purified ritually by Apollo who urged him to his deed.\nThe goddess determines that the suit shall be tried by a court of her\nown citizens. Meanwhile the Furies sing of the danger to righteousness\nwhich must result if their prerogatives are withdrawn: \u201cterror _has_ a\nrightful place and must sit for ever watching over the soul\u201d.[245] The\ncourt of justice is now assembled on the Areopagus. Athena presides; with\nher are the jurymen (generally supposed to number twelve); before her are\nthe Furies and Orestes; behind is a great crowd of Athenian citizens. A\ntrumpet blast announces the opening of the session, and Apollo enters\nto aid Orestes. The trial begins with a cross-examination of Orestes\nby the Furies, in which he is by no means triumphant. Apollo takes his\nplace and gives justification for the matricide, under three heads: (i)\nit was the command of Zeus; (ii) Agamemnon was a great king; (iii) the\nreal parent of a child is the father, the mother being only the nurse.\nTo prove this last point Apollo instances the president herself, Athena,\nborn of no mother but from the head of Zeus. He ends by promising that\nOrestes, if acquitted, will be a firm and useful ally to Athens. The\ngoddess now declares the pleading at an end, but before the vote is taken\nshe delivers a speech to the jury, proclaiming that she now and hereby\nfounds the Areopagite Court which shall for ever keep watch over the\nwelfare of Athens by the repression of crime. The judges advance one by\none and vote secretly; but before the votes are counted Athena gives her\nruling that if an equal number are cast on either side Orestes shall be\nacquitted, for she gives her casting vote in his favour.[246] The votes\nare counted and found equal, and the goddess proclaims that Orestes is\nfree. Apollo departs, and Orestes breaks forth into thanksgiving and\npromises that Argos shall ever be the friend of Athens. He leaves Athena\nand her citizens confronted by the Furies, who raise cries of frantic\nindignation, turning their rage upon Athens and threatening to blight\nthe soil, the flocks, and the people. Athena seeks to placate them by\noffering a habitation and worship in Attica. For a time they refuse to\nlisten, but after their fourth song of vengeance they relent. Athena\npromises that they are to become kindly earth-deities[247] domiciled in\nAttica, blessing the increase of crops, of herds, and of the family. The\ncitizens, with torches in their hands, form a procession led by Athena,\nand conduct the new divinities to their dwelling in a cave beneath the\nAcropolis.\n\nIt remains to deal with the literary and religious aspects of the play.\nThe poet sketches Orestes in but a rudimentary style. There is, indeed,\nhardly any character-drawing in him; he is simply any brave, sensitive,\nreligious man. The \u201chuman interest\u201d is almost confined to the gods,\nwithout our forgetting that they are surrounded by human auditors. Athena\nand the Furies are made to live by a few noble sweeping strokes; Athena,\nthe majestic presentment of Olympian wisdom and the visible head of her\nfavoured city; the Furies majestic in their rage, unanswerable in their\nclaim that punishment of crime cannot be done away if the world is to\nendure. Apollo is a curious study, less sublime than we expected. His\nmanner under cross-examination by the Furies is a little too human;\nindeed he loses his temper. The fact is that, though \u00c6schylus has no\ndesire to treat Apollo irreverently, he is by no means concerned to\ndepict a perfect being; and for two reasons. Firstly, he insists on\nreminding us that Apollo is but the minister of Zeus; it is Zeus only\nwhom he is bent on exalting. Secondly, he knows well that his audience,\nas between the Furies and Apollo, have a strong bias in favour of the\nlatter. The poet does acquit Orestes, but it is of the deepest importance\nin his eyes that we should not complacently regard the Furies as mere\nmalicious fiends, routed by a gloriously contemptuous Olympian; the\nFuries may be wrong, perhaps, but _prima facie_ they have a terribly\nstrong case. Therefore in the scene of the pleadings they at least hold\ntheir own. Apollo may be more right than they; he is emphatically not\ntheir superior, his personal fiat is not a spiritual sanction profounder\nthan theirs. Neither party has got to the root of things. The Furies say:\n\u201cThis man shed the blood of a kinswoman; he must be for ever damned\u201d.\nApollo says: \u201cHe has not sinned, for Zeus bade him act thus\u201d. The\nacquittal of Orestes is not the solution of this disagreement, it is but\nthe beginning; we can hardly understand the dispute as yet.\n\nWe thus come to the religious aspect of the _Eumenides_. \u00c6schylus is\nof course too sincere to be satisfied, or to allow us to be satisfied,\nwith the fact that Orestes actually escapes. His pursuers attack not\nthe Argive prince only; much of their language is an indictment of\nApollo, and ultimately of Zeus. It is very well for Apollo to revile\nthem as \u201cbeasts detested by the gods,\u201d[248] but the gods are themselves\narraigned. The earth-powers stand for the principle that sin, especially\nbloodshed, must be punished; this demand is recognized as just by\nAthena,[249] and is not repudiated by Apollo. Yet Zeus, the Sovereign of\nall things, extends his hand over the man who has fallen under their sway\nby his act. How shall these claims be reconciled?\n\nThe solution of \u00c6schylus is not unlike that which (it appears) he offered\nat the end of the Prometheus-trilogy. We are to imagine that we witness\nthe events of a time when Zeus himself has not attained to full stature.\nHis face is set towards the perfection of righteousness, but development\nawaits even him. In the instance of Orestes, the jar between Furies and\nApollo, or more ultimately between the earth-powers and Zeus, shows\nthat neither party is perfectly right. None the less, it is essential\nthat there should be but one master of the universe, and the Furies are\ncompelled to submit. But \u00c6schylus does not lay down his pen at this\npoint; nothing does he avoid more carefully than an ending which might\nappear as desirable as obvious to a vulgar playwright, some showy tableau\nof grovelling fiends and triumphant goddess. The Furies themselves look\nfor nothing less than moral annihilation[250] as the result of defeat.\nBut something of which they have never dreamed\u2014of which, probably, no\nGreek in the theatre has dreamed\u2014is in store for them; neither victory\nnor defeat, but recognition by the power to which they have been\nforced to bow, assimilation to that religion from which they have kept\nthemselves so jealously sundered. They are still to be mighty powers of\nearth, yet their function is to be cursing no more, but blessing only.\n\nBut is this a solution at all? Is it enough to hint at the thunderbolt,\nto offer a bribe of power and worship that the Furies may forget their\nrage against Attica?[251] What is to become of their function as\ninflexible champions of righteousness, which has been the moral safeguard\nof men? This duty the goddesses leave as a legacy to the newly-formed\ncourt of chosen Athenians:\u2014[252]\n\n    \u03c4\u1f78 \u03bc\u03ae\u03c4\u2019 \u1f04\u03bd\u03b1\u03c1\u03c7\u03bf\u03bd \u03bc\u03ae\u03c4\u03b5 \u03b4\u03b5\u03c3\u03c0\u03bf\u03c4\u03bf\u03cd\u03bc\u03b5\u03bd\u03bf\u03bd\n    \u1f00\u03c3\u03c4\u03bf\u1fd6\u03c2 \u03c0\u03b5\u03c1\u03b9\u03c3\u03c4\u03ad\u03bb\u03bb\u03bf\u03c5\u03c3\u03b9 \u03b2\u03bf\u03c5\u03bb\u03b5\u03cd\u03c9 \u03c3\u03ad\u03b2\u03b5\u03b9\u03bd\n    \u03ba\u03b1\u1f76 \u03bc\u1f74 \u03c4\u1f78 \u03b4\u03b5\u03b9\u03bd\u1f78\u03bd \u03c0\u1fb6\u03bd \u03c0\u03cc\u03bb\u03b5\u03c9\u03c2 \u1f14\u03be\u03c9 \u03b2\u03b1\u03bb\u03b5\u1fd6\u03bd.[253]\n\n\u201cLoyalty and worship do I urge upon my citizens for a polity neither\nanarchic nor tyrannical; fear must not be banished utterly from the\nState.\u201d These are the words of Athena; they are also the words of\n\u00c6schylus\u2014a solemn warning to his fellow-citizens; finally, they are the\nwords of the Furies themselves\u2014the very phrases which they have used are\nhere borrowed\u2014and go far to explain why they consent to relinquish their\nprerogative. First they have regarded the Areopagus with misgiving as a\npossibly hostile tribunal; then with hatred as an enemy; at the last they\nlook upon it with benevolence as their heir to those stern duties which\nmust not be suffered, under whatever ruler of the world, to fall into\noblivion. It is true at the same time that the poet wished, for reasons\nof contemporary politics, to impress upon his countrymen the sacredness\nof this ancient court, then threatened with curtailment of its powers and\nprestige at the hands of the popular party led by Pericles and Ephialtes;\nand the manner in which he weaves this consideration of temporal\ninterests into the fabric of a vast religious poem is magnificently\nconceived. What in a smaller man would have been merely a vulgar\ndexterity is sanctified by religious genius. It is not the degradation of\nreligion, but the apotheosis of politics. The close of the _Eumenides_\nis anything but an anti-climax. It is closely knit to the body of the\nwhole trilogy, showing the manner in which the playwright supposes the\nnecessary reconciliation between Zeus and the Furies to be made possible\nand acceptable. The King of Heaven is mystically identified now and for\never with Fate.[254] The joyful procession of \u03c0\u03c1\u03bf\u03c0\u03bf\u03bc\u03c0\u03bf\u03af is the sign not\nonly that the moral government of the world has been set at last upon\na sure basis, but also that this government is already in operation and\nsanctifying human institutions.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nThese seven plays are all that survive complete of the eighty[255]\ntragedies and satyric dramas written by \u00c6schylus. Our knowledge of the\nlost works rests upon some hundreds of fragments and scattered mention or\ncomment in ancient writers.\n\nMost interesting and important are those plays which were associated\nwith the extant dramas; these have been already discussed. Next in\nattractiveness is the _Lycurgea_ (\u039b\u03c5\u03ba\u03bf\u03c5\u03c1\u03b3\u03b5\u03af\u03b1, or trilogy of Lycurgus), to\nwhich the _Bacch\u00e6_ of Euripides had close affinity in subject. Lycurgus\nwas a king of the Edoni, a Thracian people, who opposed the religion\nof Dionysus when it entered his realm, and was punished with death.\nThe first play, the _Edoni_ (\u1f28\u03b4\u03c9\u03bd\u03bf\u03af), depicted the collision between\nDionysus and his enemy. There was an interview in which Lycurgus taunted\nthe god with his effeminate looks,[256] and which apparently closed with\nthe overthrow of his palace by the might of the god.[257] The longest\nfragment gives an interesting account of the instruments of music used\nin the bacchic orgies. The name of the second play is not certain; it\nwas either _Bassarides_ (\u0392\u03b1\u03c3\u03c3\u03b1\u03c1\u03af\u03b4\u03b5\u03c2) or _Bassar\u00e6_ (\u0392\u03b1\u03c3\u03c3\u03ac\u03c1\u03b1\u03b9)\u2014the _Women\nof the Fawn-Skin_. Here the anger of Dionysus fell upon Orpheus the\nmusician, who neglected the new deity and devoted himself to Apollo. He\nwas torn to pieces by the Bacchantes and the Muses gathered his remains,\nto which they gave sepulture in Lesbos. The _Youths_ (\u039d\u03b5\u03b1\u03bd\u03af\u03c3\u03ba\u03bf\u03b9) formed\nthe last piece of the trilogy; practically nothing is known of it. It\nwas the chorus which gave its name to the play in all three cases. The\nsatyric drama was called _Lycurgus_; if we may judge from one of the\nthree fragments the tragic treatment of wine was transformed into a\ncomic discussion of beer.[258]\n\nAnother celebrated trilogy had for its theme the tale of Troy. The\n_Myrmidons_ (\u039c\u03c5\u03c1\u03bc\u03b9\u03b4\u03cc\u03bd\u03b5\u03c2), named from the followers of Achilles who formed\nthe chorus, dealt with the death of Patroclus. Achilles, withdrawn from\nbattle because of his quarrel with Agamemnon, is adjured by the chorus\nto pity the defeat of the Greeks. He allows Patroclus, his friend, to go\nforth against the Trojans. After doing valiantly, Patroclus is slain by\nHector. The news is brought by Antilochus to Achilles, who gives himself\nup to passionate lament. This play was a favourite of Aristophanes, who\nquotes from it repeatedly. In this drama occurred the celebrated simile\nof the eagle struck to death with an arrow winged by his own feathers,\nwhich was cited throughout antiquity and which Byron paraphrased in one\nof his most majestic passages.[259] The story was apparently continued\nin the _Nereides_ (\u039d\u03b7\u03c1\u03b7\u03af\u03b4\u03b5\u03c2). Achilles determined to revenge Patroclus.\nThe magic armour made for him by Heph\u00e6stus was brought by his mother\nThetis, accompanied by her sisters, the sea-nymphs, daughters of Nereus,\nwho formed the chorus. The last play was the _Phrygians_ (\u03a6\u03c1\u03cd\u03b3\u03b5\u03c2) or\n_Ransom of Hector_ (\u1f1d\u03ba\u03c4\u03bf\u03c1\u03bf\u03c2 \u039b\u03cd\u03c4\u03c1\u03b1) in which Priam prevailed upon Achilles\nto give up the corpse of Hector for burial. It appears likely that in\nthe two preceding plays \u00c6schylus followed Homer somewhat closely. But in\nthe _Ransom_ he did not. Besides the detail to which Aristophanes[260]\nmakes allusion, that Achilles sat for a long time in complete silence,\nno doubt while the chorus and Priam offered piteous and lengthy appeals,\nthere are differences of conception. In Homer, one of the most moving\nfeatures of the story is that Priam goes to the Trojan camp practically\nalone. He is met by the God Hermes who conducts him to the tent of\nAchilles. Then, solitary among his foes, he throws himself upon the mercy\nof his son\u2019s destroyer. No such effect was to be found in \u00c6schylus. The\nchorus of Phrygians accompanied their king, and we find in a fragment of\nAristophanes[261] a hint of much posturing and stage-managed supplication.\n\nThe _Women of Etna_ (\u0391\u1f30\u03c4\u03bd\u03b1\u1fd6\u03b1\u03b9) was produced in Sicily at the foundation\nof Hiero\u2019s new city. In the _Men of Eleusis_ (\u1f18\u03bb\u03b5\u03c5\u03c3\u03af\u03bd\u03b9\u03bf\u03b9) \u00c6schylus\ndealt with the earliest struggle of Athens\u2014the war with Eleusis, his\nown birth-place. More ambitious in its topic was the _Daughters of the\nSun_ (\u1f29\u03bb\u03b9\u03ac\u03b4\u03b5\u03c2) which dealt with the fall of Phaethon. A pretty fragment\nalludes to that \u201cbowl of the Sun\u201d so brilliantly described by Mimnermus,\nin which the god travels back by night from West to East. It seems that\nthe geographical enumerations prominent in the Prometheus-trilogy were\nfound here also, tinged less with grimness and more with romance. In the\n_Thracian Women_ (\u0398\u03c1\u1fc7\u03c3\u03c3\u03b1\u03b9) \u00c6schylus treated the same theme as Sophocles\nin the _Ajax_. It is significant that the death of the hero was announced\nby a messenger. Possibly, then, it was a desire for novelty which caused\nthe younger playwright to diverge so strikingly from custom as to depict\nthe actual suicide. The _Cabiri_ (\u039a\u03ac\u03b2\u03b5\u03b9\u03c1\u03bf\u03b9) was the first tragedy to\nportray men intoxicated. In the _Niobe_ (\u039d\u03b9\u03cc\u03b2\u03b7) occurred splendid lines\nquoted with approbation by Plato:\u2014\n\n                Close kin of heavenly powers,\n    Men near to Zeus, who upon Ida\u2019s peak\n    Beneath the sky their Father\u2019s altar serve,\n    Their veins yet quickened with the blood of gods.[262]\n\nThe _Philoctetes_ is the subject of an interesting essay by Dio\nChrysostom.[263] All the three great tragedians wrote plays[264] of this\nname, and Dio offers a comparison. Naturally, but for us unfortunately,\nhe assumes a knowledge of these works in his readers; still, certain\nfacts emerge about the \u00c6schylean work. Men of Lemnos\u2014the island on which\nPhiloctetes had been marooned\u2014constituted the chorus. To them the hero\nnarrated the story of his desertion by the Greeks, and his wretched life\nafterwards. Odysseus persuaded him to come and help the Greeks at Troy\nby a long recital of Hector\u2019s victory and false reports of the death\nof Agamemnon and Odysseus. Neither Neoptolemus nor Heracles (important\ncharacters in Sophocles) seems to have been introduced by \u00c6schylus.\nDio comments on the style and characterization. The primitive grandeur\nof \u00c6schylus, he remarks, the austerity of his thought and diction,\nappear appropriate to the spirit of tragedy and to the manners of the\nheroic age. Odysseus is indeed clever and crafty, but \u201cfar removed from\npresent-day rascality\u201d; in fact he seems \u201cabsolutely patriarchal when\ncompared with the modern school\u201d. That the play is named after one of the\npersons and not the chorus, leads one to attribute it to a comparatively\nlate period in the poet\u2019s life. Finally, the _Weighing of the Souls_\n(\u03a8\u03c5\u03c7\u03bf\u03c3\u03c4\u03b1\u03c3\u03af\u03b1) is remarkable for the scene in Heaven, modelled upon a\npassage in the _Iliad_, where Zeus, with Thetis, mother of Achilles, on\none hand, and Eos, mother of Memnon, on the other, weighed in a balance\nthe souls or lives of the two heroes about to engage in fight before Troy.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nIn attempting a general appreciation of this poet one should avoid making\nthe error of judging him practically by the _Agamemnon_ alone. Otherwise\nwe cannot hope to understand the feeling of fifth century Athens towards\nhim. Most of his work has vanished, but the collection we possess seems\nfairly representative of his development; if we give weight to his\ncomparatively inferior plays we may understand the feeling of two such\ndifferent men as Aristophanes and Euripides. Incredible as it may seem,\nby the end of that century \u00c6schylus was looked on as half-obsolete.\nEuripides thought of him much as Mr. Bernard Shaw now thinks of\nShakespeare; Aristophanes, lover of the old order as he was, seems to\nhave felt for the man who wrote the _Agamemnon_ a breezy half-patronizing\naffection; while putting him forward in the _Frogs_ to discomfit\nEuripides, he handles the older poet only less severely than he handles\nthe younger. He and his contemporaries viewed \u00c6schylus as a whole, not\nfixing their eyes exclusively on his final trilogy.\n\nLet us consider him first as a purely literary artist, a master of\nlanguage, leaving his strictly dramatic qualities on one side. We find\nthat his three great notes are grandeur, simplicity, and picturesqueness.\nTo describe the grandeur of \u00c6schylus is a hopeless task; some notion of\nit may be drawn from the account of his individual works just given,\nbut the only true method is of course direct study of his writings. The\nlyrics, from the _Supplices_ to the _Eumenides_, touch the very height\nof solemn inspiration and moral dignity; as it has been often said, his\nonly peers are the prophets of Israel. The non-lyrical portions of his\nwork, stiff with gorgeous embroidery, are less like the conversations\nof men and women than the august communings of gods; that majestic poem\nwhich has for auditors the Sun himself, the rivers, the mountains, and\nthe sea, and for background the whole race of man, is not merely written\nabout Prometheus: it might have been written by Prometheus. But such\nmagnificence has its perils. The mere bombast for which Kyd and even\nMarlowe are celebrated, and which has given us such things as\n\n        The golden sun salutes the morn\n    And, having gilt the ocean with his beams,\n    Gallops the zodiac in his glistering coach,[265]\n\nwas not unknown to \u00c6schylus, as his wayward supporter Aristophanes\nwith much relish demonstrates. It seems that such extravagances, \u201cthe\nbeefy words, all frowns and crests, the frightful bogey-language,\u201d[266]\noccurred entirely in the lost plays. But in those which survive we have\nmuch bombast of phrase, if not of words; the \u201cthirsty dust, sister and\nneighbour of mud,\u201d[267] Zeus, \u201cchairman of the immortals,\u201d[268]\n\n    Typhos, who belcheth from fire-reeking mouth\n    Black fume, the eddying sister of the flame,[269]\n\n\u201cdrill these words through thine ears with the quiet pace of thy\nmind,\u201d[270] \u201cbreathe upon him the gale of blood and wither him with the\nreeking fire of thine entrails\u201d.[271] \u00c6schylus, indeed, like all poets,\nunderstood the majesty of sounding words, apart from their meaning.\nAs Milton gloried in the use of magnificent proper names, so does the\nAthenian delight in thunderous elaboration. Therefore, not possessing\nthe chastity of Sophocles, he is occasionally barbarous and noisy;\nAristophanes[272] jests at his lyrics for their frequent exhibition of\nsound without sense.\n\nOddly combined with this occasional savagery of phrase is the second\nquality of simplicity. \u00c6schylus, so far as we know, was the creator of\ntragic diction. However greatly his successors improved upon him in\nflexibility, grace, and subtlety, it was he who first worked the mine of\nspoken language, strove to purify the ore, and forged the metal into an\ninstrument of terror and delight. But even the creator needed practice\nin its use. He has a giant\u2019s strength, and at times uses it like a\ngiant, not like a gymnast. In his earlier work he seems muscle-bound,\nclumsy in the use of his new-found powers. He wields the pen as one more\nfamiliar with the spear; the warrior of Marathon does fierce battle with\nparticles and phrases; he strains ideas to his breast and wrestles with\nelusive perfection; we seem to hear his panting when at last he erects as\ntrophy some noble speech or miraculous lyric. This stiffness of execution\npersists faintly even in the _Oresteia_. The earlier tragedies, both\nin the characters and in the language, are rough-hewn, for all their\nglory. In the _Supplices_ this stark simplicity is actually the chief\nnote. Here, more than elsewhere, the poet has a strange way of writing\nGreek at times as if it were some other language. The opening words of\nthe Egyptian herald\u2014\u03c3\u03bf\u1fe6\u03c3\u03b8\u03b5 \u03c3\u03bf\u1fe6\u03c3\u03b8\u2019 \u1f10\u03c0\u1f76 \u03b2\u1fb6\u03c1\u03b9\u03bd \u1f45\u03c0\u03c9\u03c2 \u03c0\u03bf\u03b4\u1ff6\u03bd[273]\u2014can only be\ndescribed as barbaric mouthing. Throughout this play the complete absence\nof lightness and speed, the crude beginnings of greatness, a certain\nbleak amplitude, are all typical of a new art-form not yet completely\nevolved. The poet, himself the beginner of a new epoch, fills us with an\nuncanny impression of persons standing on the threshold of history with\nlittle behind them but the Deluge. In the _Pers\u00e6_ and the _Septem_ there\nis the same instinct for spaciousness, but the canvas shows more colour\nand less of the bare sky, for we are now more conscious of background,\nthe overthrow of Persia and the operations of human sin.\n\nThe third characteristic, picturesqueness, is the most obvious of all.\nThe few instances of bombastic diction noted above are but the necessary\nfailures of a supreme craftsman. Homer does not stay to embroider his\nlanguage with metaphor, which belongs to a more reflective age; Pindar\u2019s\ntropes are splendid and elaborate, a calculated jog to the attention.\nFor \u00c6schylus, metaphor seems the natural speech, unmetaphorical language\na subtlety which requires practice. Danaus in his perplexity ponders\n\u201cat the chess-board\u201d;[274] when the assembly votes, \u201cheaven bristles\nwith right hands\u201d;[275] an anxious heart \u201cwears a black tunic\u201d;[276]\nheaven \u201cloads the scales\u201d[277] to the detriment of Persia; the trumpet\n\u201cblazes\u201d;[278] misfortune \u201cwells forth\u201d;[279] Amphiaraus \u201creaps the\ndeep furrow of his soul\u201d;[280] \u201cthe sea laughs in ripples without\nnumber\u201d;[281] the snow descends \u201cwith snowy wings\u201d;[282] for an intrepid\nwoman \u201chope treads not the halls of fear\u201d;[283] \u201cFate the maker of swords\nis sharpening her weapon\u201d;[284] Anarchy in the State is the \u201cmixing\nof mud with water\u201d.[285] The best example of all is the celebrated\nbeacon-speech in the _Agamemnon_: \u201cThe flame is conceived as some mighty\nspirit.... It \u2018vaults over the back of the sea with joy\u2019; it \u2018hands its\nmessage\u2019 to the heights of Macistus; it \u2018leaps across\u2019 the plain of\nAsopus, and \u2018urges on\u2019 the watchmen; its \u2018mighty beard of fire\u2019 streams\nacross the Saronic gulf, as it rushes along from peak to peak, until\nfinally it \u2018swoops down\u2019 upon the palace of the Atreid\u00e6.\u201d[286]\n\nAllied to this picturesqueness of phrase is a picturesqueness of\ncharacterization: \u00c6schylus loves to give life and colour even to his\nsubordinate persons. Attic literature is so frugal of ornament that\nthe richness of this writer gains a double effect. The watchman of the\n_Agamemnon_ has the effect of a Teniers peasant; Orestes\u2019 nurse in the\n_Choephor\u0153_ is a promise of the nurse of Juliet; the Egyptian herald\nconveys with amazing skill the harem-atmosphere\u2014one seems to see that\nhe is a negro; Hermes in the _Prometheus_ is the father of all stage\ncourtiers. Again, direct appeals to the eye were made by various quaint\ndevices\u2014the winged car of the Ocean Nymphs, their father\u2019s four-legged\nbird, and the \u201ctawny horse-cock\u201d (whatever it was) which so puzzled\nDionysus.[287] Such curiosities were meant merely as a feast for the idle\ngaze, at first; but the serious mind of the poet turned even these to\ndeeper issues. The red carpets of the _Agamemnon_, and the king treading\nupon them in triumph, provided a handsome spectacle to the eye; but the\nmind at the same instant fell into grimmer bodements as the doomed man\nseemed to walk in blood. So, too, the word-pictures which please the\near are raised by genius to an infinitely higher power, as in that same\nscene, when Agamemnon complains of the waste of purple stuffs, and the\nqueen seems but to say that there is dye enough left in the sea: \u201cThere\nis a sea, and who shall drain it dry?\u201d The meaning of the words is as\ninexhaustible as the ocean they tell of, revealing abysses of hatred and\nlove hellishly intertwined, courage to bear any strain, an hereditary\ncurse whose thirst for blood is never sated, a bottomless well of life.\n\nIf we now consider \u00c6schylus on his purely dramatic side, as a builder of\nplays, we find again the three distinctive notes, grandeur, simplicity,\nand picturesqueness. The grandeur of his architecture is an authentic\nsign of his massive genius\u2014it by no means depends on his selection of\ndivine or terrific figures; the _Pers\u00e6_ and the _Septem_ are witnesses.\nIt is the outcome of his conception of life as the will of God impinging\nupon human character. \u00c6schylus knows nothing about \u201cpuppets of fate.\u201d\nAround and above men is a divine government about which many things may\nbe obscure, but of which we surely know that it is righteous and the\nguardian of righteousness. Man by sin enters into collision with the law.\nThe drama of \u00c6schylus is his study of the will and moral consciousness\nof man in its efforts to understand, to justify to itself, and to obey\nthat law. Supreme justice working itself out in terms of human will\u2014such\nis his theme. Another source of grandeur lies in the perspectives which\nhis works reveal. This, perhaps most evident in the _Prometheus_, runs\nthrough the other plays; and a technical result of this power is the\nskill with which the whole trilogies are wrought. To compose trilogies\nrather than simple tragedies shows indeed the instinct for perspective\nworking at the very heart of his method. Again, if this instinct likens\nhis work to painting, still more are we led by historical considerations\nto make a comparison with sculpture. It has been said[288] that the\nearliest play is \u201clike one of those archaic statues which stand with\nlimbs stiff and countenance smiling and stony.\u201d This brilliant simile\nis full of enlightenment. Just as those early Greek statues which\nseem to the casual observer merely distressing are to be contrasted,\nnot with the achievement of Praxiteles but with non-Hellenic art, the\nwinged bulls of Assyria and the graven hummocks which present the kings\nof Egypt, whereupon we perceive the stirrings of life and beauty; so\nshould the _Supplices_, were it only in our power, be compared to the\nrigid declamations from which, to all seeming, tragedy was born. In the\n_Supplices_ tragedy came alive like the marble Galatea. D\u00e6dalus was\nreputed to have made figures that walked and ran; it is no fable of\n\u00c6schylus, but the history of his art.\n\nSimplicity, the second note of \u00c6schylus, needs little demonstration after\nthe detailed account of his plots. The four earlier works contain each\nthe very minimum of action. The characterization is noble, but far from\nsubtle. All the persons are simply drawn, deriving their effect from\none informing concept and from the circumstances to which they react.\nEuripides in the _Frogs_[289] fastens upon this, remarking, \u201cYou took\nover from Phrynichus an audience who were mere fools\u201d. A later generation\ndemanded smartness and subtlety; \u00c6schylus was anything but artful, and\nso the same critic accuses him of obscurity in his prologues.[290] The\n_Oresteia_ exhibits a marked advance in construction. Leaving on one side\nthe vexed question of the plot in the _Agamemnon_,[291] we observe in the\n_Choephor\u0153_ what we may call intrigue. Orestes has a device for securing\nadmission to the palace; the libations by which Clyt\u00e6mnestra intends to\nsecure herself are turned into a weapon against her; the chorus intercept\nthe nurse and alter her message so as to aid the conspiracy. This\ningenuity is perhaps due to the influence of Sophocles.\n\nThirdly, what may be termed picturesqueness in structure is a matter\nof vital import for \u00c6schylus. To write dramatically is to portray life\nby exhibiting persons, the vehicles of principles, in contact and\ncollision. For an artist of the right bent, it is not difficult to select\na scene of history or an imagined piece of contemporary life which under\nmanipulation and polishing will show the hues of drama. But the earliest\nof dramatists turns aside in the main from such topics. His favourite\nthemes are the deepest issues, not of individual life, but the life of\nthe race, or the structure of the universe. What is the relation between\nJustice and Mercy? Why is the omnipotent omniscient? May a man of free\nwill and noble instincts escape a hereditary curse sanctioned by heaven?\nSuch musings demand surely a quiet unhurried philosophic poem, not the\ndecisive shock of drama. \u00c6schylus devoted himself, nevertheless, not to\nliterature in the fashion of Wordsworth, but to tragedy. How was he to\nwrite a play about Justice and Mercy, to discuss a compromise between\nthe rigidity of safe government and the flexibility of wise government?\nJustice and Mercy are both essential to the moral universe, says the\ntheologian\u2014but they are incompatible. Friendship and strife are both\nessential to the physical universe, says Empedocles\u2014but how can they be\nwedded? This impossibility is everywhere, and everywhere by miracle it is\nachieved. This union of opposites pervades the world, from the primitive\nprotoplasm which must be rigid to resist external shock but flexible to\ngrow and reproduce itself, to the august constitution of the eternal\nkingdom in which \u201crighteousness and peace have kissed each other\u201d. Where,\nthen, is the playwright to find foothold? His innumerable instances\nmerge into one another. \u00c6schylus, with noble audacity, lifts us out of\nthe current of time and imagines a special instance, an instance which\npresents the problem in dual form\u2014for example the human tangle of the\nAtridean house and the superhuman conflict between Zeus and the powers of\nearth. It is assumed that there has been no earlier, less decisive, jar.\nIn the future, there will be no more. The great question is raised once\nfor all in its completest, most difficult form. The gradual processes\nof time are abolished. Thus Atlas[292] is punished by condemnation to\nthe task of upholding heaven for ever; how it was sustained before his\noffence is a question we must not raise. Hypermnestra[293] is put on\ntrial for disobeying her father that her husband may live. She is saved\nby Aphrodite; and the innumerable cases of conflicts of duty which have\nbroken hearts in days past are summed up (rather than disregarded) by\nthis ultimate example. In the _Oresteia_ a man is hunted well-nigh to\ndeath by fiends because he has obeyed the will of God. Why? It can only\nbe said that until the judgment in the _Eumenides_ all is nebulous,\nthe world is being governed desperately as by some committee of public\nsafety; morals, justice, and equity are still upon the anvil. After this\none case no man will ever again be tortured like Orestes; nor indeed, we\nmay conjecture, will the oracles of Zeus issue behests so merciless as\nthat which he received.\n\nFinally, something should be said about \u00c6schylus\u2019 views on religion.\nOther subjects had an interest for him, geography, history, and\npolitics,[294] but his never-failing and profound interest in religion\novershadows these. Not only was he interested in the local cults of\nAthens, as were his great successors; he is at home in the deepest\nregions of theology. Even more than this, he brings back strange messages\nfrom the eternal world, he seeks to purify the beliefs of his fellows by\nhis deep sense of spiritual fact; he writes the chronicles of Heaven and\nbears witness to the conquests of the Most High. Among Greek writers he\nis the most religious, and, with Plato and Euripides, most alive to the\nimportance of belief to the national health. He is not ashamed of the\ntraditional gospel when he thinks it true: \u201cthe act comes back upon him\nthat did it; so runs the thrice-old saw\u201d.[295] Still less is he ashamed\nto denounce false maxims: \u201cFrom of old hath this hoary tale been spread\nabroad among men, that when prosperity hath grown to its full stature it\nbrings forth offspring and dies not childless; yea, that from good hap\na man\u2019s posterity shall reap unendingly a harvest of woe. But I stand\napart from others, nor is my mind like theirs.\u201d[296] This originality and\nsincere mood is shown everywhere. Already we have noted how earnestly\njust he is towards the claims of the Furies. The case was no foregone\nconclusion for him. To realize how terrible the quarrel was in his eyes\nwe have only to imagine our feelings had Apollo been defeated. And\ndefeated he nearly is; the human judges vote equally.\n\nThe poet\u2019s clear thinking and ethical soundness are shown in his\ntreatment of the hereditary Curse or At\u00e9 (\u1f04\u03c4\u03b7). Some great sin brings\nthis curse into being, and it oppresses the sinner\u2019s family with an\nabnormal tendency to further crime. But the descendants are not forced\nto sin. The action of the curse, according to \u00c6schylus, is upon their\nimagination. When some temptation to wrong-doing occurs to them, as to\nall men, they may suddenly remember the curse and exclaim in effect: \u201cWhy\nstruggle against this temptation? our house is ridden by an At\u00e9 which\ndrives us to sin\u201d. Thus they rush upon evil with a desperate gusto and\nabandon. So Eteocles[297] cries:\u2014\n\n    Since Heav\u2019n thus strongly urges on th\u2019 event,\n    Let Laius\u2019 race, by Ph\u0153bus loathed, all, all\n    Before the wind sweep down the stream of Hell!\n\nBut the curse can be resisted. The house of Atreus fed its curse from\ngeneration to generation by criminal bloodshed. But Orestes shed blood\nonly at the behest of Heaven, and so combined necessary vengeance with\ninnocence. Thus the curse was laid to rest.[298]\n\nThe revision to which he subjected the myths of popular religion is\ntherefore characteristic. There were four leading phenomena which it\nwas necessary somehow to co-ordinate if a consistent faith was to be\npossible. First, there was the Olympian hierarchy, the object of the\nState-religion at Athens as elsewhere. Secondly, there was Chthonian\nreligion or the worship of earth-powers. Thirdly, there was the vague,\nless personal, power called Fate. And lastly, there was conscience,\nthe feeling that sin polluted the soul, not merely the hands of the\nwrong-doer.[299] None of these four conceptions was by itself adequate\nin the eyes of \u00c6schylus. The Olympians, though the rulers of men and\non the whole their friends, were according to universal report stained\nwith all the crimes of humanity. The earth-deities ruled only by fear;\nthey punished but they did not inspire; nor was it clear that their\npower was not somehow subordinate to that of Heaven. Fate was impersonal\nand had no moral aspect on which men could base their understanding of\nits law. The conception of personal righteousness had no visible basis\nin the scheme of things; there was no power outside man who guaranteed\nthe authenticity of his thirst for holiness. When once \u00c6schylus set\nout on his self-appointed path, he brooked no obstacle. First, as to\nthe Olympian gods, he explains away the difficulties. Most of them are\nfrankly ignored,[300] edifying accounts being substituted for them; some\nfew are accepted with a shrug.[301] Zeus is no longer the head of a\nturbulent confederacy; he has become the father and lord of powers who\nobey him implicitly and derive their prerogatives from his will. The\nearth-deities, as has been shown, surrender their moral functions and\nbecome mere spirits of fertility, localized, in the case of the Furies,\nupon Attic soil. Nothing, even in this writer, is more audacious than\nthe monotheistic fervour which transforms these terrific beings into a\nspecies of fairy. Fate, again, is mysteriously assimilated to Zeus; the\nunvarying laws of the universe are invested with a moral tendency and a\npersonal will. And lastly, the conception of human holiness finds its\nsanction in that will. Zeus bids us be righteous, and our faith affirms\nthat he will punish the guilty and reward the good.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER IV\n\nTHE WORKS OF SOPHOCLES\n\n\nOf more than a hundred plays written by Sophocles, only seven\nsurvive entire. These shall now be discussed in what is probably the\nchronological order.\n\nThe AJAX[302] (\u0391\u1f34\u03b1\u03c2, sometimes called \u0391\u1f34\u03b1\u03c2 \u03bc\u03b1\u03c3\u03c4\u03b9\u03b3\u03bf\u03c6\u03cc\u03c1\u03bf\u03c2, from his\nscourging of the cattle) cannot be dated. It is generally agreed that\nthis work and the _Antigone_ are the two earliest extant plays; which\nof the two was produced first it is difficult to say.[303] Perhaps an\nimportant feature of technique settles this\u2014both tragedies need three\nactors, but the _Ajax_ in this respect is more tentative than the\n_Antigone_.\n\nThe scene is laid before the tent of Ajax on the plain of Troy. Enraged\nby the action of the Greeks in awarding to Odysseus instead of to himself\nthe arms of the dead Achilles, Ajax sought to slay Agamemnon, Menelaus,\nand others in their sleep. The goddess Athena sent madness upon him so\nthat he slaughtered cattle in their stead. Coming to himself he realizes\nhis shame, and eluding his friends\u2014the chorus of Salaminian sailors and\nthe Trojan captive, Tecmessa (who has borne him a son),\u2014he retires to\na lonely spot by the sea and falls upon his sword. His brother Teucer\nreturns too late to save him, but in time to confront and defy Agamemnon\nand Menelaus, who have decreed that Ajax\u2019 body shall be left unburied.\nAt length Agamemnon is induced by Odysseus to forgo his purpose.\n\nNo Greek play gains so much by re-reading as the _Ajax_. The character\nof the hero steadily grows on us; it is not that we admire him more, but\nthat we feel a deeper sympathy. As he gains in clearness, he lifts the\nother characters into the light. Ajax is a man dowered with nobility,\nsensitiveness, and self-reliance, but ruined by the excess of those\nqualities. His nobility has become ambition, his sensitiveness morbidity,\nhis self-reliance pride. He offends Heaven by his haughtiness, and is\nhumbled; then, rather than accept his lesson, he shuns disgrace by\nsuicide. This resolution is strong enough to overbear the appeals of\nTecmessa and the silent sway of his little son; he faces death calmly and\neven thoughtfully. Grouped round the central figure are first Tecmessa\nand Teucer, and on a lower plane Odysseus, Menelaus, Agamemnon, and the\nchorus. Athena stands apart.\n\nTecmessa is one of the loveliest creations of Sophocles; there clings\nabout her a silvery charm which is strangely refreshing amid the turbid\ngrandeur of the play. Tenderness, patience, courage\u2014these are commonplace\nenough upon the stage; yet Sophocles has made of them something frail but\nindestructible, and touched her with his own greatest charm\u2014an unearthly\neloquence of which we shall speak later:\u2014\n\n    \u1f00\u03bb\u03bb\u2019 \u1f34\u03c3\u03c7\u03b5 \u03ba\u1f00\u03bc\u03bf\u1fe6 \u03bc\u03bd\u1fc6\u03c3\u03c4\u03b9\u03bd. \u1f00\u03bd\u03b4\u03c1\u03af \u03c4\u03bf\u03b9 \u03c7\u03c1\u03b5\u1f7c\u03bd\n    \u03bc\u03bd\u03ae\u03bc\u03b7\u03bd \u03c0\u03c1\u03bf\u03c3\u03b5\u1fd6\u03bd\u03b1\u03b9, \u03c4\u03b5\u03c1\u03c0\u03bd\u1f78\u03bd \u03b5\u1f34 \u03c4\u03af \u03c0\u03bf\u03c5 \u03c0\u03ac\u03b8\u03bf\u03b9.[304]\n\nWhen Ajax is dead, it is she, not Teucer (as Ajax had hoped) who finds\nthe body, and this marvel of quiet tenderness gleams forth again. She\nhardly laments at all; the chorus who accompany her are more moved.\nSo accustomed is she to sorrow and self-repression that grief is her\nnatural element; she utters a few quiet words of noble pity, and when\nthe sailors press forward to view the dead she gently says \u201cye must not\nlook on him,\u201d and covers the body with a robe. Her self-command is so\nabsolute that it can bend; she will even say \u201cAlas! What shall I do?\u201d\nwhen confronted with a mere perplexity about the removal of the corpse.\n\nTeucer is Ajax himself without the madness and the illumination; he\nstands in the same relation to his half-brother as Mark Antony in\nShakespeare to Julius C\u00e6sar; he is an ideal presenter of Ajax\u2019 claims if\nthey are to be presented at all to people like Menelaus and Agamemnon.\nMenelaus is more active in debate, more brilliantly vulgar, than his\nbrother, who wisely takes his stand upon general principles, and hardly\nmentions at all the decision not to bury Ajax. Agamemnon is conscious\nof his weak position; finally, he succeeds in retiring without complete\nloss of dignity. Odysseus is apparently intended as the antithesis to\nAjax\u2014discreet, forgiving, and impressed by the power of Heaven. Though\nbut a sketch, he is a striking figure; after all the anguish and outcry,\nit is the normal man who emerges as the pivot of events and saves the\nsituation.\n\nThe Salaminian sailors offering no special features, there remains\nonly Athena, who dominates the \u201cprologue\u201d. In contrast with the\nfully-developed beings whom we have studied in the _Oresteia_ she\nis amazingly crude. The fact is that we ought not to consider her\n\u201ccharacter\u201d at all. She is simply divine punishment roughly (but not\ncasually) personified and given the name Athena. She gloats over the\nmadman whom even the mortal standing beside her pities, and the only\nlesson she draws for him is that men must shun pride. It is natural,\nbut useless, to call her a fiend; she serves merely as the visible and\naudible symbol that Heaven punishes haughty independence of spirit. That\ninstead of mere evolutions of puppets we have a striking drama is due\nsimply to the fact that Sophocles is interested far more in Ajax than in\nthe goddess.\n\nTwo real or apparent defects must be noted. Firstly, we are shocked, or\nwe should be shocked, by the actions (if not the character) of Ajax\u2014a\npoint often disregarded, probably through an idea that his bloodshed\nwas caused by madness. But the goddess, by so deluding him, turned his\nrage from man to beast. He makes a deliberate attempt to murder the\nAtrid\u00e6 in their sleep, together with an indefinitely large number of\ntheir followers, and this in the course of a campaign. It can hardly\nbe doubted that the doom pronounced by the general, that such a man\n(to ignore his personality for the moment) shall not be buried, would\nhave met with faint reprobation, either at the time supposed or among\nthe contemporaries of the poet. Again, the indifference with which Ajax\ntreats Tecmessa amounts to sheer brutality. Many readers have supposed\nthat the prince cherishes affection for her, but conceals it under a show\nof roughness to avoid \u201cbreaking down\u201d. This is a mere fancy. Nothing in\nAjax\u2019 conduct, and practically[305] nothing in his words, betrays any\ninterest whatsoever in Tecmessa. The man is absorbed almost entirely by\nhis sense of wounded dignity. He bids an affectionate farewell to his\nchild, he speaks lovingly of his own parents and of Teucer; but nothing\ncan prevent him from escaping disgrace by self-destruction. When about to\nfall upon his sword he mingles with his farewells a fierce behest to the\nFuries to destroy the whole Greek host which has slighted him. So far as\nthe first part of this tragedy is concerned, Ajax is a magnificent brute;\nhe is better dead.\n\nThe second difficulty is that Ajax dies at v. 865, but the play continues\nfor five or six hundred lines more. This great space is occupied by a\nlong dispute about his burial, which modern readers find tedious. But the\ndifficulty arises from a mischievous idea that the culmination of every\ntragedy is the hero\u2019s death. Often it is only a step towards the real\ncrisis. In _Ajax_ the theme is not his death, but his rehabilitation: the\ndisgrace, the suicide, the veto on his burial, Teucer\u2019s defiance, the\npersuasions of Odysseus, are all absolutely necessary. The culminating\npoint is the dispute about his burial, especially since Ajax was one of\nthe Attic \u201cheroes,\u201d and the centre of a hero\u2019s cult was his tomb.[306]\nThis explanation enables us to regard the whole play as an organic unity.\nIt helps, moreover, to meet the first difficulty\u2014the character of Ajax.\nIt must be remembered that a man became a \u201chero\u201d not necessarily through\nany nobility or holiness of his life. It was rather the fact that he had\npassed through strange, unnatural experiences, had even committed morbid\ncrimes, so long as those offences were purged by strange sufferings and\ndeath, violent, superhuman, or pitiable. Such was \u0152dipus, and such is\nAjax. Greek feeling would have made a \u201chero\u201d of Lear, of Hamlet, perhaps\nof Othello. Ajax is a man of essentially noble mould\u2014this the speeches of\nTeucer express admirably\u2014who sins deeply and suffers strangely. That he\nhappens to evoke less admiration from us than the other tragic figures\njust mentioned matters little. Lack of tenderness towards women was the\nrule at Athens; and hatred of enemies, which Ajax carried to such insane\nlength, was commoner still. But what of the lowered tone which marks the\nend of the tragedy? Teucer\u2019s speech on the warlike achievements of his\nbrother is, indeed, beyond praise; but much of his other remarks, and of\nthe language held by the Atrid\u00e6, is mere brawling. But these quarrels\nbring into relief the proud nobility of the man who lies between the\ndisputants, dead because he would not stay to rehabilitate himself by\nsuch bickering.\n\nThe ANTIGONE[307] (\u1f08\u03bd\u03c4\u03b9\u03b3\u03cc\u03bd\u03b7) was produced about 441 B.C. The scene is\nlaid before the palace at Thebes, on the morning after the repulse of\nthe Argives who had come to restore Polynices. Creon, King of Thebes,\npublishes an edict that no one shall give burial to the corpse of\nPolynices on pain of death. Antigone, sister of the dead man, despite\nthe advice of her sister Ismene, performs the rite and is haled before\nCreon. She insists that his edict cannot annul the unwritten primeval\nlaws of Heaven. The king, disregarding the admonitions of his son H\u00e6mon,\nbetrothed to Antigone, sends her to the cave of death. The prophet\nTiresias warns him that the gods are angered by the pollution which comes\nfrom the unburied corpse. Urged by the chorus, Creon relents, and hastens\nfirst to bury Polynices, then to release Antigone, who has, however,\nalready hanged herself. H\u00e6mon stabs himself by her body. On hearing of\nhis death his mother Eurydice, wife of Creon, commits suicide. The play\nends with Creon\u2019s helpless grief.\n\nThis play is perhaps the most admired of Sophocles\u2019 works. But the\nadmiration often rests on a misunderstanding. It is customary to regard\nAntigone as a noble martyr and Creon as a stupidly cruel tyrant, because\nof an assumption that she must be what a similar figure would be, and\noften has been, in a modern play. Memories of Cordelia confronting Lear,\nof Dorothea in _The Virgin Martyr_ of Massinger and Dekker, beguile us\nso that we read that character into the play. The principle upheld by\nAntigone, and that upheld by Creon, are _prima facie_ of equal validity.\nThe poet may, possibly, agree with Antigone rather than with the king,\nbut the current belief, that the princess is splendidly right and her\noppressor ignobly wrong, stultifies the play; it would become not tragedy\nbut crude melodrama. In judging Attic literature there is nothing which\nit is more vital to remember than the immense importance attached by\nAthenians to the State and its claims. We are alive to the sanctity\nof human life, but think far less of the sanctity of national life.\nAn English reader, therefore, regards Creon with all the reprobation\nwhich his treatment of Antigone can possibly deserve; but whatever\njustification is inherent in the case he almost ignores.\n\nThe truth is that Creon commits a terrible act owing to a terrible\nprovocation. His act is the insult to Polynices\u2019 body, which he maintains\nat the cost of Antigone\u2019s life; his justification is the fact that the\ndead man, though a Theban, was attacking Thebes and would have destroyed\nthe State. Antigone stands for respect to private affection, Creon for\nrespect to the community. It is impossible to say at the outset which\nis the more important, and the problem may well be insoluble. But it is\nprecisely because of this that the _Antigone_ is a tragedy. To accept\nthe customary view, and yet insist that Sophocles is a great dramatist,\nis mere superstition; the work becomes the record of an insane murder.\nOn _a priori_ grounds, then, we may believe that Sophocles by no means\ncondemns Creon off-hand. It is not satisfactory to argue that Thebes\nshould have been satisfied with the death of the invader. Since he was a\nTheban his attack was looked on as the foulest treachery, which merited\nextreme penalty, both by way of revenge and as a warning to others.\n(Just the same view is held by the authorities in the _Ajax_.) The play\npresents a problem both for the king and for his kinswoman: \u201cI am right\nto punish this traitor\u2019s corpse; am I justified in killing others who\nthwart the punishment?\u201d \u201cI am right to show love and pity for my dead\nbrother; am I justified in flouting the State?\u201d Antigone is only Creon\nover again with a different equipment of sympathies. That one loves his\ncountry with a cold concentration which finds enemies and treachery\neverywhere, while the other passionately loves her dead brother, should\nnot blind us to the truth that Antigone has all Creon\u2019s hardness and\nnarrowness, and especially all his obstinacy. That tenderness and womanly\naffection which we attribute to the princess are amiable inventions of\nour own, except the love which she bears Polynices. This love is not\nto be in any sense belittled, but it is simply an instinct, like that\nof Creon in matters of State, an instinct to which she will, like him,\nsacrifice all else. If Creon sacrifices Antigone for his ideal, she\nsacrifices H\u00e6mon for hers. He shows brutality to his son, she to her\nsister. That a compromise between the demands of the State and private\nconscience is, however unwelcome, necessary, never occurs to either\nparty, and those who, like H\u00e6mon and Ismene, urge such a thought upon\nthem are insulted. This blindness to the psychology of Antigone has led\nto actual meddling with Sophocles\u2019 text. In her last long speech occurs\na celebrated \u201cdifficulty,\u201d namely, her statement[308] that if the dead\nman had been a child or husband of hers, she would not thus have given\nher life; but the case of Polynices is different, since (her father and\nmother being dead) she can never have another brother. These lines are\ngenerally bracketed as spurious because unworthy of Antigone\u2019s character\nand inconsistent with the reason for her act which she has already[309]\ngiven, namely, the \u201cunwritten and unshaken laws of Heaven\u201d. Any idea that\nthe passage was inserted in \u201clater times\u201d is rendered impossible by the\nfact that Aristotle[310] quotes it (about 340 B.C.) and the presumption\nis that the words are the poet\u2019s own. Indeed, the \u201cdifficulty\u201d exists\nonly in the minds of those who attribute inconsistency in a character to\nincompetence in the playwright. But while illogical people exist it is\nhard to see why a dramatist should not depict them. Antigone\u2019s \u201creason\u201d\nis stupid, no doubt, but what could be more dramatic? It is no novelty\nthat a person capable of courageous action cannot argue well about it;\nthere is a logic of the heart that has little to do with the logic of the\nbrain. Antigone _has_ no reasons; she has only an instinct. Here, and\nhere only, Sophocles has pressed this point home, and the popular view\nhas no resource but to reject the passage.\n\nWhom does Sophocles himself approve, the king or his opponent? Neither.\nAttention to the plot will make this clear. The _peripeteia_ or \u201crecoil\u201d\nis the revelation that the gods are angered by the pollution arising from\nthe body, and that owing to their anger grave peril threatens Creon\u2019s\nfamily. It is this news which causes his change of purpose. Polynices\nis therefore buried by the king himself despite his edict. These facts\nshow that ultimately both Antigone and Creon are wrong. Heaven is\nagainst Creon, as he is forced at last to see\u2014Antigone\u2019s appeal to the\neverlasting unwritten laws is in this sense justified. But Antigone is\nwrong also. She should have left the gods to vindicate their own law.\nSuch a statement may seem ignobly oblivious of religion, human nature,\nand the courage which she shows. But it is not denied that Antigone is\nnoble and valiant: she may be both, yet mistaken and wrong-headed. One is\nbound to consider the facts of the plot. Why is she at first undetected\nyet compelled by circumstances to perform the \u201cburial\u201d-rites twice?\nSimply to remind us that, if Creon is resolved, she _cannot_ \u201cbury\u201d\nPolynices. The king has posted guards, who remove the pious dust which\nshe has scattered; and this gruesome contest could continue indefinitely.\nShe throws away her life, _and with no possible confidence that her\nbrother will in the end be buried_. It is precisely this blindness of\nhers which makes the tragedy\u2014her union of noble courage and unswerving\naffection with inability to see the crude facts of a hateful situation.\nHer obstinacy brings about the punishment of Creon\u2019s obstinacy, for\nEurydice\u2019s death is caused by H\u00e6mon\u2019s, and H\u00e6mon\u2019s by Antigone\u2019s. Had she\nnot intervened all these lives would have been saved. The whole action\nmight have dwindled to a mere revolting incident: the king\u2019s barbarity,\nthe anger of the gods, and the king\u2019s submission. The tragedy would have\ndisappeared: it is Antigone\u2019s splendid though perverse valour which\ncreates the drama.\n\nA difficulty of structure has been found[311] in the fact that Creon,\ndespite his haste to free Antigone, tarries for the obsequies of\nPolynices. Why does he not save the living first? This \u201cproblem\u201d arises\nmerely from our insistence on the overwhelming importance of Antigone\nand our disregard of the real perspective. The explanation is simply\nthat Creon has just been warned of the grave danger to the whole State\nand his family from the anger with which the gods view his treatment of\nPolynices\u2014an offence which Tiresias emphasizes far more than that against\nAntigone; and the community, nay, even the several persons of Creon\u2019s\nfamily, are more important than one woman.\n\nThe lyrics of this play are among the finest in existence. The first\node expressing the relief of Thebes at the destruction of the ravening\nmonster of war, the third which describes the persistence of sorrow from\ngeneration to generation of the Theban princes, the brief song which\ncelebrates the all-compelling influence of love, with its exquisite\nreminiscence of Phrynichus,[312] the last lyric, a graceful invocation\nto the God Dionysus, and above all, the famous ode upon man and his\nquenchless enterprise, all these are truly Attic in their serene,\nsomewhat frigid, loveliness.\n\nThe ELECTRA[313] (\u1f28\u03bb\u03ad\u03ba\u03c4\u03c1\u03b1) has by most[314] critics been regarded as\nnext in time to the _Antigone_. The scene shows the palace of Agamemnon\nnow inhabited by his murderers, Clyt\u00e6mnestra and her lover \u00c6gisthus.\nOrestes, son of Agamemnon, returns to avenge him by slaying his own\nmother Clyt\u00e6mnestra; he is accompanied by Pylades, his friend, and\nby an old slave. Chrysothemis, daughter of Agamemnon and sister of\nElectra, is sent by Clyt\u00e6mnestra to appease the ghost of Agamemnon, but\nis persuaded by Electra to pray his help for Orestes. The slave of\nOrestes brings false news to the palace that Orestes has been killed in\na chariot-race at Delphi, so that the queen is relieved from fear of\nvengeance. Chrysothemis returns, joyfully announcing Orestes\u2019 arrival\u2014she\nhas seen a lock of his hair on the tomb; but her sister replies that he\nis dead. While Electra mourns for her brother he himself brings in an\nurn, pretending to be a messenger who has conveyed home the ashes of\nOrestes. Electra\u2019s lamentation over it reveals who she is, and Orestes\nmakes himself known. Then the men go inside to slay Clyt\u00e6mnestra, while\nElectra remains watching for \u00c6gisthus. After the slaughter he arrives and\ntriumphantly orders the body to be carried forth, but when he uncovers it\nhe finds the corpse of Clyt\u00e6mnestra. He is then driven within to death.\n\nThe _Choephor\u0153_, the _Electra_ of Sophocles, and the _Electra_ of\nEuripides supply the only surviving instance in which the three\ntragedians handled the same story; at present it is enough to note the\ndifferences between the method of Sophocles and that of the _Choephor\u0153_.\nFor \u00c6schylus the slaying of Clyt\u00e6mnestra is a question of religion and\nethics, for Sophocles it is a matter of psychology, the emotional history\nof Electra. He is content to take the religious facts for granted, and\nthen to proceed with no misgivings to a purely human drama. The play\nbegins amid the bright, cheerful surroundings of dawn and ends with\nhappiness. When Orestes comes forth, his sword wet with his mother\u2019s\nblood, he is entirely satisfied and untouched by any misgivings, simply\nbecause the question of matricide has been settled for him by Heaven.\nHe is a personified theory of Olympian religion. His words to Electra\nafter the queen is dead: \u201cIn the house all is well, if Apollo\u2019s oracle\nspoke well,\u201d[315] are the summary of Sophocles\u2019 religious point of view.\nCarefully and confidently referring the question of this matricide to a\nhigher judge than Man, he proceeds to his actual business. Equally marked\nis the difference between the closing sentence of the _Choephor\u0153_,\n\u201cWhere then will end the fatal fury, when pass into closing calm?\u201d[316]\nand that of the later work: \u201cO house of Atreus, through how many\nsufferings hast thou come forth at last in freedom, crowned with good by\nthis day\u2019s enterprise!\u201d[317] For Sophocles the deed is done and behind\nus; for \u00c6schylus it lives to beget new sorrows.\n\nElectra dominates the action, scarcely leaving the scene after her first\nentry. Though not a great character-study, she impresses us by the\npathos of her situation and by the splendid expression of her emotions;\nher lament over the funeral urn is perfect in the rhetoric of sorrow.\nAlmost motionless throughout the long and varied action; the mark for\nsuccessive onslaughts of insult, misery, surprise, grief, hatred, and\njoy, she is thrown into relief by all who approach her, especially\nChrysothemis, whose princely robes add emphasis to the heroic meaning of\nthe sordid dress worn by her royal sister. She is a simple character and\nneeds little ornament; her devotion, patience, and courage are plain to\nbehold. But we should note the masterly, yet unobtrusive way in which her\nfeelings towards Clyt\u00e6mnestra are portrayed. Hating her steadily as the\nslayer of Agamemnon, she cannot quite forget (as does Euripides\u2019 heroine)\nthat Clyt\u00e6mnestra is her mother. After her outburst of reproach against\nthe queen she has enough flexibility of mind to own[318] that she is in\na way ashamed of it\u2014a simple touch which shows Sophocles a master, not a\nslave, of his own conceptions. A more subtle indication of her spirit is\nshown in Electra\u2019s speech to Chrysothemis urging her to aid in the deed\nof vengeance. All she proposes is that they should slay \u00c6gisthus. But\nthere is an undercurrent of emphasis which shows[319] that she intends\nthe death of Clyt\u00e6mnestra also.\n\nThe other personages are mostly well-drawn. Orestes is commonplace,\nbut the other four are distinctly imagined. The tiny part of \u00c6gisthus\nadmirably reveals the malicious upstart; Chrysothemis is another Ismene,\nwith more energy and lightness. The P\u00e6dagogus reminds one of the guard in\nthe _Antigone_ by his quaint witticisms\u2014\u201cif I had not been watching at\nthe door from the first, your plans would have entered the house before\nyour bodies\u201d.[320] Clyt\u00e6mnestra, too, is admirable. More closely akin\nto an Euripidean than to an \u00c6schylean character, she defends herself\nelaborately and gives way to fits of ill-temper and petty rancour; but\nshe has some maternal feeling left\u2014witness the confusion of emotions with\nwhich she greets the news of Orestes\u2019 death.\n\nThe sorrows and character of Electra form one of the two great features\nof this tragedy. The other is the stage-craft. First there is a distinct\nelement of intrigue, that is, of plot as contrived not by the poet but\nby the characters. Not only do the avengers gain access to the house\nby a false story; this much is to be found already in the _Choephor\u0153_.\nThere are two distinct visitors to the house: the P\u00e6dagogus with his tale\nof the fatal race, and Orestes bringing the funeral urn. It is to this\nduplication\u2014for otherwise Clyt\u00e6mnestra would have been present when the\nurn was brought\u2014that we owe the splendid scene of the Recognition, with\nits introductory lament by Electra. Again, as in \u00c6schylus the nurse sent\nby Clyt\u00e6mnestra is induced to change her message to \u00c6gisthus in a way\nvital to the conspirators, so here Chrysothemis is caused by her sister\nto invoke the aid of Agamemnon against the queen instead of seeking to\nassuage his wrath. Further, whereas \u00c6gisthus might have entered the\nhouse and been slain without more ado, Electra, by telling him that the\nmessengers have brought the very body of Orestes home, induces the\nking to summon them forth with the corpse; thus the end of the play is\nrendered vigorous (indeed melodramatic) by his triumphant unveiling of\nthe body which proves to be that of the queen.\n\nBesides these admirable strokes of a rather sophisticated \u201csense of\nthe theatre\u201d there are powerful effects which arise naturally from the\ncircumstances. Clyt\u00e6mnestra offers a prayer to the very god who has sent\nthe avenger. Electra\u2019s wonderful address to the ashes of her brother\ngains greatly by the fact that he stands living beside her. A splendidly\ndramatic effect is obtained by the return of Chrysothemis\u2014the most\n\u201cmodern\u201d point of the whole work. She has been sent away for a certain\npurpose, but in the stress of later happenings we forget her. Suddenly\nshe re-appears with news\u2014the result of her mission\u2014news startling in\nitself, but ten times more so because of the events which (without her\nknowledge) have just occurred. Again, it is quite natural that Electra\nshould come forth while Clyt\u00e6mnestra is being slain, since some one must\nbe on the alert for \u00c6gisthus. This gives opportunity for the terrible\nlittle passage where the queen\u2019s agonized appeals inside the house are\nanswered by the tense answers or comments of this tragic figure rigid\nbefore the gate.\n\nThe \u0152DIPUS TYRANNUS[321] (\u039f\u1f30\u03b4\u03af\u03c0\u03bf\u03c5\u03c2 \u03a4\u03cd\u03c1\u03b1\u03bd\u03bd\u03bf\u03c2), often called _\u0152dipus Rex_\nor _\u0152dipus the king_, is a play of uncertain date, but it seems later\nthan _Electra_ and earlier than _Philoctetes_.\n\nThe plot is rather intricate and must be given at greater length. The\nscene shows the palace of \u0152dipus at Thebes. The people are smitten by a\npestilence; and all look to the king, who has already sent his wife\u2019s\nbrother, Creon, to ask advice from the Delphic oracle. Creon enters,\nbringing tidings that Thebes will be freed if the city is purged of\nthose who killed Laius, the former king. \u0152dipus asks for particulars,\nand learns that Laius was killed by some robbers. Only one man escaped.\nThe king calls upon the slayer to declare himself, promising no worse\ntreatment than exile; he asks also any man who knows the guilty one\nto speak. If no one confesses, he denounces civil and religious\nexcommunication against the unknown. The chorus-leader suggests that the\nprophet Tiresias should be consulted; \u0152dipus replies that he has been\nalready summoned. The coryph\u00e6us remarks casually that some say Laius\nwas slain by certain wayfarers. Tiresias enters, but shows a repugnance\neven to discuss the problem, till \u0152dipus in a rage accuses Tiresias of\ncomplicity in the murder. An altercation follows in which the prophet\naccuses \u0152dipus of having killed Laius. The other, filled with wrath,\nproclaims that Tiresias and Creon are plotting to make Creon king in his\nstead. Tiresias threatens the king with mysterious horrors and downfall.\n\u0152dipus bids him begone, and rates him for a fool. \u201cFoolish, perhaps,\nin your eyes,\u201d says the old man, \u201cbut thought wise by the parents that\nbegat thee.\u201d \u0152dipus is startled. \u201cParents? Stay! What man begat me?\u201d\nThe answer is: \u201cThis day shall show thy birth and thy destruction\u201d. The\nking again bids him go. As he turns away, Tiresias utters his farewell\nspeech. The murderer of Laius is here, supposed an alien, but in reality\nTheban-born. Bereft of his sight and his riches he shall go forth into a\nstrange land, and shall be found brother and father of his children, son\nand husband of his wife, murderer and supplanter of his father. Creon\nenters, dismayed by the charges of \u0152dipus, when the king appears, heaps\nreproaches upon the supposed traitor, and insists that Creon shall die.\nThe noise of their dispute brings from the palace Jocasta, sister of\nCreon and wife of \u0152dipus; she brings about a half-reconciliation between\nthe two princes, and asks the cause of the quarrel. \u0152dipus tells of the\naccusation pointed at himself by Tiresias. Jocasta seeks to console him\nby a proof that soothsaying is not trustworthy. \u201cAn oracle once came to\nLaius that he should be slain by a son of his and mine. None the less,\nhe was slain by foreign robbers at a place where three roads meet; and\nthe child, not three days old, was cast out upon a mountain, his ankles\nyoked together.\u201d This speech, so far from comforting the king, fills\nhim with alarm. The phrase \u201ca place where three roads meet\u201d has struck\nhim. He anxiously asks for a description of Laius and the number of his\nfollowers. The replies disturb him still more, and he asks that the\nsingle survivor, now a herdsman far from the city, should be sent for.\nJocasta asks the reason. He tells the story of his early manhood: he is\nthe son of Polybus, King of Corinth, but one day a man insulted him by\nsaying he was no son of Polybus. The youth asked the Delphic oracle of\nhis birth, but the god, instead of answering directly, announced that\nhe was fated to marry his mother and kill his father. \u0152dipus cheated\nthe oracle by never seeing his parents again. On his way from Delphi he\nmet a body of men such as Jocasta has described, and after a quarrel\nslew them all. It seems that he is himself the slayer of Laius and is\nsubject to the curses which he has himself uttered. His only hope lies\nin the survivor who, it is understood, always spoke of robbers, not of\na single assailant. If this is accurate, \u0152dipus is not meant by the\nrecent oracle. A messenger from Corinth enters, bringing news that the\npeople of that city intend to make \u0152dipus their king; Polybus is dead.\nJocasta exclaims that Polybus was the man whom \u0152dipus feared he must\nslay. She mocks at the oracle and summons \u0152dipus, who shares her relief,\nbut reminds her that his mother still lives. The messenger asks what\nwoman they are discussing. \u201cI can free you from that fear,\u201d he exclaims;\n\u201c\u0152dipus is not the son of Polybus and Merope.\u201d Further questioning from\n\u0152dipus brings forth the explanation. The present messenger gave \u0152dipus,\nwhen a babe, to Polybus. He was found in the glens of Cith\u00e6ron, where the\nman was tending flocks, his ankles fastened by an iron thrust through\nthem. Who did this the Corinthian cannot say, but the man who gave him\nto the Corinthian should know\u2014another herdsman brought him, one of the\nhousehold of Laius. \u0152dipus asks if this man can be found. The chorus\nanswer that probably he is the person already summoned, and that perhaps\nthe queen can tell. \u0152dipus turns to Jocasta, who flings him a few words\nof agony and sorrow and rushes into the house. \u0152dipus turns away in\ncontempt, for he believes that Jocasta\u2019s distress springs from a fear\nthat he will be found of ignoble birth. The aged servant of Laius now\napproaches, and is recognized by the Corinthian as the man who gave him\nthe child. A conversation of intensest thrill follows between the two\nherdsmen, in which the Corinthian is eager, while the Theban is utterly\nreluctant, only answering under the direst threats from the king. At\nlength it becomes plain that the babe \u0152dipus is the son of Laius and\nJocasta. The king with a cry of horror rushes into the palace. A slave\nenters and tells how Jocasta has hanged herself, and how \u0152dipus has\ndestroyed his own sight. After an interval \u0152dipus staggers forth, a sight\nof ghastliness and woe. Creon now appears as ruler of the city and bids\n\u0152dipus be hidden in the house. The wretched man asks that he be cast\nforth to dwell upon Cith\u00e6ron; Creon replies that the oracle must first be\nconsulted. \u0152dipus bids a heart-broken farewell to his little daughters,\nand Creon takes them all into the palace.\n\nThe _\u0152dipus Tyrannus_ has been universally admired as a masterpiece,\never since the time of Aristotle, who in his _Poetic_ takes this play\nas a model of tragedy. The lyrics are simple, beautiful, and even\npassionately vigorous; the dialogue in language and rhythm is beyond\npraise; and the tragic irony, for which this poet is famous, is here at\nits height. But the chief splendour of the work is its construction,\nits strictly dramatic strength and sincerity. The events grow out of\none another with the ease of actual life yet with the accuracy and the\npower of art. We should note the two great stages: first, the king fears\nthat he has slain Laius; second, that he has slain _his father Laius_.\nThis distinction, so vital to the growing horror, is kept admirably\nclear and is especially pointed by the part of the aged Theban. When he\nis summoned, it is to settle whether Laius was slain by one man or by\na company; by the time he arrives, this is forgotten, and all wait to\nknow from whom he received the outcast infant. Equally wonderful is the\nskill with which almost every stage in the discovery is made to rise from\nthe temperament of \u0152dipus. He is the best-drawn character in Sophocles.\nNot specially virtuous, not specially wise\u2014though full of love and pity\nfor his people and vigorous in his measures for their safety, he is too\nimperious, suspicious, and choleric. His exaggerated self-confidence,\ndangerous in a citizen, is almost a crime in a prince. The only notable\nvirtue in his character is the splendid moral courage with which he\nfaces facts, nay, more, with which he insists on unearthing facts which\nhe might have left untouched. And the core of the tragedy is that this\nvirtue of \u0152dipus, his insistence on knowing the truth, is the source of\nhis downfall. Had he not sent for Tiresias, Tiresias would not have come\nforward. Had he not urged the prophet to reply, Tiresias would not have\nuttered his accusations. By these apparently mad charges, \u0152dipus is stung\ninto accusing Tiresias of plotting with Creon. This in turn brings Creon\nto the palace. The anger with which he reviles Creon causes a dispute\nwhich draws Jocasta from the house. Then, to calm \u0152dipus, she gives him\nthe dreadful \u201cconsolation\u201d\u2014that oracles have no weight\u2014which first makes\nthe king fear he may have done the deed which is plaguing Thebes. And so\nto the end. One exception to this sequence should be noticed. The arrival\nof the Corinthian messenger at this moment is purely accidental. Without\nit, the witness of the old retainer would have fastened upon \u0152dipus the\nslaying of Laius (not known to be the king\u2019s father); and he would have\ngone forth from the city, but not as a parricide; moreover, the relation\nbetween him and the queen would have remained unknown. Judged by the\nstandard of the whole play, this fact constitutes a flaw in construction.\nWhy did not the poet contrive that the news of Polybus\u2019 death should\narrive, and arrive now, as the direct result of something said or done\nby \u0152dipus, just as the arrival of the old Theban, with his crushing\ntestimony, is due to the king\u2019s own summons? No doubt this occurrence is\nmeant to mirror the facts of life, which include accidents as well as\nevents plainly traceable to character.\n\nAt this point should be mentioned other possible faults, whether inherent\nin the drama or antecedent to it. Some of the preliminary facts are\nto a high degree unlikely. These points are three. First, \u0152dipus and\nJocasta, though each separately has received oracular warning about a\nmarriage, make no kind of inquiry at the time of their own wedding.\nSecondly, \u0152dipus all these years has never heard or inquired into the\ncircumstances in which Laius was killed. Third, Jocasta has never yet\nbeen told of the incident at Corinth which sent \u0152dipus to Delphi;\nindeed she has apparently not even heard that he is the son of the\nking and queen of Corinth.[322] Within the play itself is the strange\nfeature that when Tiresias accuses \u0152dipus of slaying Laius and hints\ndarkly at greater horrors\u2014hints which in spite of their obscurity might\nsurely (one would think) have united themselves in the mind of \u0152dipus\nwith the oracle of long ago\u2014\u0152dipus is merely moved to fury, not to\nmisgiving.[323] Now of the first three difficulties it must be owned that\ndespite the palliatives suggested, they are irritating. These things\nare \u201cimpossible,\u201d or, if not, they are oddly irrational, which is the\nsame thing so far as the enjoyment of dramatic art is concerned. They\nare, however, to be explained thus. The unquestioning marriage of \u0152dipus\nand Jocasta is a _datum_ of the legend with which the poet could not\ntamper. All that the dramatist could do he did\u2014he placed the unlikely\nfact \u201coutside the plot\u201d[324] and dwelt on it as little as possible.\nIndeed, he hints at some sort of excuse\u2014the confusion in Thebes owing to\nthe oppression of the Sphinx.[325] Next, the postponement of explanations\nabout the death of Laius and the exile of \u0152dipus from Corinth is a direct\nresult of dramatic treatment. Just as \u00c6schylus,[326] in order to handle\ndramatically a religious question, the bearings of which fill the whole\nof time, insists on contracting the issue to a single great instance, so\nSophocles forces into the compass of one day\u2019s happenings the life of\nyears. In actuality, this tragedy would have been spread over a great\nlapse of time. The climax and the horror would have been much the same\nessentially, but the poet presents the whole in a closely-knit nexus of\noccurrence, so as to make the spectator feel the full impact undissipated\nby graduations.\n\nThe difficulty concerning Tiresias is of another sort. \u0152dipus\u2019 apparent\nmadness is not so great as it seems. Not only is he by his rank and\nsuperb self-confidence shielded from misgivings, not only is he already\nsuspicious that the murderer must be some treacherous Theban,[327] but\nhe has now lost his temper, and has just been furious enough to accuse\nTiresias himself of complicity in the deed. It is therefore easy for him\nto assume that the prophet in his turn is only uttering his accusations\nas a wild insult.\n\nIt might also be asked, why is not the scene with Jocasta, in which she\nfortifies the king against soothsayers and oracles, not placed at the end\nof the Tiresias-episode? This question leads one to suppose that there is\ngreat importance in the quarrel with Creon which intervenes between the\ndeparture of Tiresias and the queen\u2019s appearance. Its importance clearly\nis, partly to depict \u0152dipus more plainly, by contrast with his equable\nkinsman, but most of all to give force and impressiveness to the end of\nthe play, in which Creon appears as king. After the appalling climax\nof the play, and the frightful return of the blind \u0152dipus, there is\ndanger that Creon\u2019s entry will fall flat.[328] But with faultless skill\nSophocles has prepared the ground so well that when the agony is at its\nworst our interest is not indeed increased, but refreshed and relieved by\nthe appearance of this man whom we have forgotten, but whom we recognize\nin a flash as being now the pivot of events. This admirable stroke\nreminds one of the return of Chrysothemis in the _Electra_, but it is far\nmore powerful.\n\nAnother feat of dramatic power must be noted, marvellous even where all\nis masterly: the re-appearance of \u0152dipus after the climax. Nothing in\nGreek tragedy is more common than for a person after learning frightful\nnews to rush within the doors in despair. But he does not return; a\nmessenger tells the news of his fate. In this play news is indeed brought\nof the bloody deeds that have befallen. Then comes a sight almost too\nappalling for art: the doors open and the man of doom staggers into the\nlight of day once more. Spiritually he is dead, but he may not destroy\nhimself since he cannot go down to Hades where his father and mother\ndwell. He must live, surviving himself, as it were a corpse walking\nthe upper earth. The waters of doom have closed over his head, but he\nre-appears.\n\nJocasta is more slightly drawn than \u0152dipus, yet what we have suffices.\nTwo features are stressed by the poet\u2014her tenderness for \u0152dipus and\nher flippant contempt in regard to the oracles. This last is clearly\na dramatic lever of great power; through it the king is first brought\nto suspect that he is the guilty man. It has a strong and pathetic\nexcuse. Because of the oracle, she was robbed of her child and yet all\nin vain\u2014the infant not yet three days old was cast away, but none the\nless Laius was killed. It is precisely her rage against the oracle for\ncheating her which brings to \u0152dipus the knowledge that it has been\nfulfilled. Further than this Sophocles has not characterized the queen;\nhe places an ordinary woman in a situation of extraordinary horror and\npathos, leaving us to feel her emotions, without any elaboration of his\nown. To read the conversation between \u0152dipus and the Corinthian, with\nthe short colloquy of \u0152dipus and Jocasta which follows, is to experience\nas perhaps nowhere else can be experienced that \u201cpurgation of pity and\nterror\u201d which is the function of tragedy. It all centres for the moment\nin Jocasta, yet she says very little. We are required to imagine it\nfor ourselves\u2014the intertwined amazement, joy, loathing, despair, which\nfill the woman\u2019s heart during the few minutes for which she listens in\nsilence to the king and the messenger. To have lost her child at birth,\nthen after mourning his death for many years at length to find that he\nlives, that he stands before her, mature, strong, and kingly, but her\nown husband; then to realize that not now but long ago did she recover\nhim, yet did not know him but loved him otherwise\u2014this even Sophocles has\nnot put into speech. Only one hint of it comes to us in the queen\u2019s last\nwords:\u2014\n\n    \u1f30\u03bf\u1f7a, \u1f30\u03bf\u03cd, \u03b4\u03cd\u03c3\u03c4\u03b7\u03bd\u03b5\u00b7 \u03c4\u03bf\u1fe6\u03c4\u03bf \u03b3\u03ac\u03c1 \u03c3\u2019 \u1f14\u03c7\u03c9\n    \u03bc\u03cc\u03bd\u03bf\u03bd \u03c0\u03c1\u03bf\u03c3\u03b5\u03b9\u03c0\u03b5\u1fd6\u03bd, \u1f04\u03bb\u03bb\u03bf \u03b4\u2019 \u03bf\u1f54\u03c0\u03bf\u03b8\u2019 \u1f55\u03c3\u03c4\u03b5\u03c1\u03bf\u03bd.\n\nFirst she screams at his ignorance and would tell all in one word \u201cSon!\u201d\nBut she cannot say it, nor dare she use again the name \u201chusband\u201d. All\ndear titles have been forfeited by being all merited together; and with\nthe cry \u201cUnhappy one!\u201d she goes to death.\n\nThe two herdsmen are perfect in their degree. Instead of mere machines\nfor giving evidence we have a pair of real men, subtly differentiated\nand delightful. The Corinthian, as befits a man coming from a great\ncentre of civilization to the quieter town of dull B\u0153otians, is polite,\nrhetorical,[329] ready of tongue, and conscious of his address; eager and\ninquisitive, he increases his importance by telling the tale piecemeal,\nand will even tell it wrongly[330] for that purpose. The Theban herdsman\nis an excellent foil to his brisk acquaintance; quiet and slow, with\nthe breeding and dignity often found in the lowly members of a backward\ncommunity, he does his best to recall the memories on which a king and\na nation are hanging in suspense, until he begins to see whither the\nquestions tend; then, only the fiercest threats can drag the truth\nfrom his stubborn loyalty. Sophocles loved this character; long before\nhe appears we have a charming little description of him from hints of\nJocasta[331] and the chorus;[332] the poet has even given him one[333] of\nthose magical lines to which we shall come again later:\u2014\n\n    \u03bb\u03ad\u03b3\u03b5\u03b9\u03c2 \u1f00\u03bb\u03b7\u03b8\u1fc6, \u03ba\u03b1\u03af\u03c0\u03b5\u03c1 \u1f10\u03ba \u03bc\u03b1\u03ba\u03c1\u03bf\u1fe6 \u03c7\u03c1\u03cc\u03bd\u03bf\u03c5.\n\nTHE WOMEN OF TRACHIS[334] (_Trachini\u00e6_, \u03a4\u03c1\u03b1\u03c7\u03b9\u03bd\u03af\u03b1\u03b9) is, perhaps, the\nnext play in chronological order. The scene is before a house in the\nstate of Trachis not far from Eub\u0153a. Deianira, the wife of Heracles, is\ntroubled by his absence because of an oracle which says that in this last\nenterprise he shall either die or win untroubled happiness. Hyllus, her\nson, goes off to help him in his attack on the city of Eurytus in Eub\u0153a.\nThe messenger Lichas brings news of Heracles\u2019 triumph; with him are\ncertain captive girls, one of whom, Iole, daughter of Eurytus, is beloved\nby Heracles. Deianira learns this fact after a pathetic appeal to Lichas;\nthen she sends him back with a gift to Heracles\u2014a robe which she has\nanointed with the blood of the Centaur Nessus as a charm to win back her\nhusband\u2019s love. After Lichas has gone she finds by an accident that the\nrobe is poisoned. Then Hyllus returns with news that his father is dying\nin torments, and reproaches his mother. She goes into the house and stabs\nherself. Hyllus learns the truth, and when the dying hero is carried in,\ncursing his false wife, he explains her error. Heracles gives orders that\nhis body is to be burnt on Mount \u0152ta and that Hyllus must marry Iole.\n\nIt is customary to regard the _Trachini\u00e6_ as the weakest extant play\nof Sophocles. The picture of Heracles\u2019 physical agony near the close\nseems wearisomely elaborate; and in the second place we are utterly\ndissatisfied with him. He does not seem worthy of the trepidation, awe,\nand grief which he has excited throughout the play. All that follows\nthe suicide of Deianira appears empty or offensive. This objection may\nbe put[335] thus, that there are two tragedies, that of Deianira and\nthat of the hero. Now though it is quite true that one can point to a\nthought which unifies the play\u2014the passion of Heracles for Iole, or\nmore fundamentally, the destructive power of love, this does not meet\nthe difficulty, which will then simply be restated thus, that the poet\nhas not maintained a due perspective; the story of Deianira\u2019s emotions\nand of her plan bulks too largely and impedes what should have been the\nclimax. But it is a fundamental law in the criticism of Greek Tragedy,\nand especially in the study of Sophocles, that we must ponder it until\nwe find some central thought which accounts for the whole action and for\nthe perspective in which the details are placed. Such a central thought\nis, after all, not lacking in the _Trachini\u00e6_. It is the character of\nDeianira, her instincts, and her actions. This play is in structure very\nsimilar to the _Ajax_. In the earlier work Ajax\u2019 death occurs far from\nthe end, but the latter portion is no anti-climax. So here: the topic is\nnot especially the death of Deianira or the end of Heracles; it is the\nheroine\u2019s love for her husband and the attempt she makes to win him back.\nThe poet\u2019s interest in her does not vanish at the moment of her silent\nwithdrawal. Her act, her love, survive her. What is the result of her\npathetic secret wooing of Heracles? She has longed for two things, his\nreturn and a renewal of his affection. To both these purposes is granted\na dim painful phantom of success. Instead of tarrying in Eub\u0153a Heracles\nhastens home, though every movement of his litter is torment; Deianira\u2019s\npassion has brought him back, though not as she meant. As for her plan to\nregain his love, it is true that when he learns her innocence not a word\nof pity or affection falls from him; he never mentions her again. It may\nbe that he is merely stupid and callous; it may be that he is ashamed to\nrecant his bitter words; it may be that he is at once engrossed in the\nsudden light which is thrown upon his own fortunes. However this may be,\nthe promise of Nessus on which she relied is fulfilled: \u201cThis shall be\nto thee a charm for the soul of Heracles, so that he shall never look\nupon any woman to love her more than thee!\u201d[336]\u2014the hero\u2019s passion for\nIole is quenched. This conception gives a wonderful beauty to what is\notherwise a mere brutality of the dying man. In forcing his son to marry\nIole he outrages our feelings as well as the heart of Hyllus\u2014unless we\nhave understood. But this is his reparation to Deianira. The charm of\nNessus has been potent indeed; the maiden is nothing to him: he \u201cloves no\nwoman more\u201d than Deianira. But this act is more than cold reparation; it\nis a beautiful stroke of silent eloquence. Heracles not only relinquishes\nIole, he gives her to his son, to one many years his junior. This is an\nunconscious reply to the touching complaint[337] made by the wronged\nwife:\u2014\n\n    The flower of her age is in its spring,\n    But mine in autumn. And the eyes of men\n    Still pluck the blossom, shunning withered charms.\n\nFor him his wife was the true mate; let Iole wed a man of her\nown years.[338] Thus the hope of Deianira is in a terrible way\nhalf-fulfilled. Just as Heracles was mistaken in his reading of the\noracle which promised him \u201crest\u201d at the end of his toils, so was\nshe mistaken in the meaning she put upon the Centaur\u2019s promise. The\noracles of heaven, by their own power and still more by the terrible\nmisinterpretation of man, help to mould the play, as they mould the\n_\u0152dipus Tyrannus_. Thus the _Trachini\u00e6_ becomes a real unity. Deianira\u2019s\nfate is now no over-developed episode, for in a spiritual sense it fills\nthe tragedy. The doom of Heracles is no anti-climax or tedious addendum;\nit is the exposition before our eye of the havoc which can be wrought\nby sincere love misled. A great structural danger lies herein, that the\npicture of Heracles\u2019 torment may eclipse the tragedy of his wife. But\nthe poet has surmounted this by making the agony-scene not too long, and\nabove all by reminding us of Deianira through the repeated allusion to\nher made by Heracles and through the explanation of Hyllus.\n\nCertain peculiarities of detail in the plot strongly support the view\nthat Deianira is the subject of the whole drama. First is the conduct of\nLichas. This part is carefully constructed so as to lead up to the great\nappeal in which the heroine describes the might of Love. If Lichas had\nreally kept his secret instead of tattling to the townsfolk, Deianira\nwould not have known it and so appealed to Lichas. If, on the other hand,\nLichas had not tried to deceive his mistress, she would not have needed\nto offer any appeal. His conduct has been devised solely to portray her\ncharacter by means of this marvellous speech. A second point is the\nway in which Hyllus learns his mother\u2019s innocence. After his speech of\ndenunciation she goes without a word into the house. The Trachinian\nmaidens know the truth and have heard from Deianira[339] herself that she\nwill not survive her husband, but they say nothing to Hyllus. Yet the\nplaywright who is here so strangely reticent allows the prince to learn\nthe facts in a few minutes \u201cfrom the people in the house\u201d as he casually\nphrases it. The reason is that if Hyllus were informed at once he would\nprevent his mother\u2019s suicide. This would have destroyed the dramatic\ntreatment without altering events. For Deianira is not concerned in\nbeing proved innocent; she wishes to die now that Heracles is destroyed.\nHyllus\u2019 intervention would only mean procrastination of death.[340] In\nthe interests of drama, it must happen now. Further he must learn the\ntruth as soon as she is dead, for some one must confront Heracles with\na defence of the dead woman, if her fate and her love are, as we said,\ndominant throughout the play. Here, too, there is a resemblance between\nthe _Trachini\u00e6_ and the _Ajax_; Hyllus, in this last scene, resembles\nTeucer championing the fame of Ajax.\n\nThe character-drawing is here as admirable as elsewhere. Lichas,\nwell-meaning but foolish and shifty, is contrasted with the messenger\nwho is perfectly honest though spiteful. Hyllus is a character of a\ntype which we have often discussed already\u2014he has no personality, and\nwe are interested in him not because of what he is but because of what\nhappens to him. The women of the chorus are simply a band of sympathetic\nfriends. Heracles, on the customary reading of the tragedy, is the most\ncallously brutal figure in literature. One need not labour the proof;\nhis treatment of Deianira, of Iole, of Hyllus, of Lichas, of every one\nwhom he meets,[341] is enough. The poet has taken the only possible\ncourse to make us witness the hero\u2019s pangs at the close with a certain\nsatisfaction. But the other possible theory does away with this sham\n\u201ctragedy\u201d. Heracles as a coarse stupid \u201cman of action\u201d who is yet capable\nof reflection and a touch of \u201cthe melting mood\u201d shown by his giving Iole\nto Hyllus when the secret of his wife\u2019s heart is at last irresistibly\npressed upon him, is dramatic indeed.\n\nBut the glory of this work is Deianira. A comparison of the _Trachini\u00e6_\nwith the _Ajax_ illustrates the development of ideas in the poet\u2019s mind.\nTecmessa\u2019s character and position have been analysed, and we find,\ninstead of one woman, two\u2014Iole and Deianira. Iole is mute; it is not her\nconduct, but her involuntary influence, which contributes to the tragedy.\nIn Deianira, however, we meet the Trojan princess once more, older and\nwith more initiative\u2014tenderer she could not be. It is this union of\ngentleness with force of mind, of love and sad knowledge of the world,\nwhich makes her character so appealing and gracious. A smaller poet would\nhave made her haughty or abject, revengeful or contemptible; Sophocles\nhas portrayed a noble lady, who will bend, but not kneel. Her interview\nwith Iole and the later conversations in which first she excuses her\nhusband and then on reflection finds that she cannot share his home with\nthe newcomer\u2014these scenes, painted with quiet mastery, are the greatest\nwork of Sophocles in the portraiture of women.\n\nThere can be no doubt that the _Trachini\u00e6_ is the work of Sophocles;\nconsiderations of style, hard to describe but overwhelming, settle\nthe case beyond dispute. None the less we cannot ignore the influence\nof another school of drama\u2014the Euripidean. The features more or less\ncertainly due to this influence are: (i) The subject itself. Sophocles\nhas studied a woman\u2019s love and its possibilities of unintended mischief\nin a way which recalls many plots[342] of Euripides. (ii) The \u201cprologue,\u201d\nespecially the explanatory speech of Deianira, is not in the usual manner\nof the playwright, but quite in that of Euripides. (iii) The last lines,\nwith their reproach against the hardness of the gods who neglect their\nchildren, and the total silence about the deification of Heracles, which\nwas the most familiar fact of this story, a silence emphatic throughout,\nare in spirit Euripidean. (iv) The chorus is almost negligible as a\ndramatic factor, and one of its songs\u2014the first stasimon\u2014is literally\n\u201ccommonplace\u201d; it would fit any kind of joyous occasion. (v) The turns of\nexpression occasionally recall those of the younger poet. The colloquial\n\u03c0\u03bf\u03af\u03b1\u03bd \u03b4\u03cc\u03ba\u03b7\u03c3\u03b9\u03bd[343] cannot be paralleled in tragedy except in his work.\nOne line[344] seems borrowed almost without change. Deianira\u2019s homely,\nalmost coarse, words, \u201cand now we two await his embrace beneath one\nrug,\u201d are not what one expects from the stately Sophocles. The prosaic\n\u03c6\u03b1\u03c1\u03bc\u03b1\u03ba\u03b5\u03cd\u03c2[345] and the allusion[346] to Heracles\u2019 unheroic side (\u1f21\u03bd\u03af\u03ba\u2019\n\u1f26\u03bd \u1fa0\u03bd\u03c9\u03bc\u03ad\u03bd\u03bf\u03c2, \u201cwhen he was deep in wine\u201d) are on the same level. But\nmost Euripidean of all is the description[347] Deianira gives of her\ndreadful suitor. There is nothing unlike Sophocles in this acceptance\nof the legend that Deianira was wooed by a river-god. But the studied\nnonchalance of the first line \u201cmy suitor was a river, Achelo\u00fcs that is,\u201d\nand the absurdity of the second, in which the divine wooer is represented\nas applying (with a punctilio strange to river-gods of legend) to the\nlady\u2019s father for her hand, and \u201ccalling\u201d (\u03c6\u03bf\u03b9\u03c4\u1ff6\u03bd) on different occasions\nas a different animal\u2014all this mixture of horror and comedy is absolute\nEuripides. The fact appears to be that Sophocles deliberately took up the\nattitude of Euripides, for two reasons\u2014firstly, for the sheer delight of\na strange and difficult feat of artistry; secondly, in order to show how\nEuripides, even from his own standpoint, ought to have written.[348]\n\nPHILOCTETES[349] (\u03a6\u03b9\u03bb\u03bf\u03ba\u03c4\u03ae\u03c4\u03b7\u03c2) was produced in the spring of 409 B.C.,\nwhen the poet was eighty-seven years old, and won the first prize. The\nhero Philoctetes was one of the chieftains who sailed for Troy. When\nthe fleet touched at Chryse, he was stung in the foot by a snake. The\nwound was incurable and its noxious odour, together with the cries of\nthe sufferer, were so troublesome to the Greeks that they deserted him\nwhen asleep upon the island of Lemnos, leaving with him a little food and\nclothing, and his bow and arrows, the last a legacy from Heracles. In the\ntenth year of the war the Greeks learned that Troy could only be taken\nby help of Philoctetes and the weapons of Heracles. Two men were sent to\nLemnos with the purpose of bringing the maimed warrior to Troy\u2014Odysseus\nbecause of his craft, Neoptolemus because he was unknown to Philoctetes.\n\nThe scene is a desolate spot on the island, in front of the cliff-face\nin which is the cave inhabited by Philoctetes. Neoptolemus wins the\nconfidence of the sufferer while Odysseus keeps in the background, though\nby a subtle device of a false message he aids the plot greatly. But when\nthe fated weapons are secured and Philoctetes (who supposes he is to be\nconveyed back to Greece) is ready to accompany Neoptolemus, the latter\ntells him the truth. Philoctetes\u2019 misery, rage, and reproaches induce the\nyouth to restore the weapons despite Odysseus\u2019 opposition, and to promise\nPhiloctetes a passage home. But at the last moment Heracles appears in\nglory above their heads and commands Philoctetes to proceed Troywards. He\nwillingly consents, and bids farewell to the scene of his long sorrow.\n\nIn structure this play is perhaps the most interesting extant work\nof Sophocles. As elsewhere, we find a great simple character of vast\nwill-power exposed to a strong temptation\u2014Philoctetes confronted by\nthe chance of healing, happiness, and glory, if only he will meet in\nfriendship men whom he is determined to hate. But for once there is a\nsecondary interest which is not purely secondary. Many will even find\nthe development of Neoptolemus more impressive than the situation of\nPhiloctetes. While the latter shows the heroic character as it appears\nafter the experience of life, strong, reflective, sad, a little fierce\nif not soured, the other is the hero before such experience, eager and\nnoble but too responsive to suggestion. Neoptolemus has just begun life,\nand his first task is to betray\u2014for the public good, no doubt, but still\nto betray\u2014a noble stranger who merits not only respect but instant pity\nand tendance. \u201cOh! that never had I left Scyros!\u201d he exclaims. Life after\nall is not a blaze of glorious war as his father Achilles found it, but a\nsordid affair of necessary compromises. One of the most charming things\nin the drama is the clearness with which Philoctetes, in the midst of his\nrage, sees the tragedy of his youthful captor.[350] Confronted by the\nkindness of the youth, he reveals himself not as a mere savage, living\nonly on thoughts of revenge; he becomes more flexible, open-hearted,\nalmost sociable. So revealed, he is the direct cause of the change in\nNeoptolemus\u2019 purpose.\n\nBeside these stands Odysseus, only less striking and equally\nindispensable. For a chief note of this drama is the skill with which the\npoet avails himself of the three actors, whose possibilities are here\nfor perhaps the first time fully employed. It is easy, but mistaken, to\nlabel Odysseus as \u201cthe villain\u201d. In reality he is the State personified.\nThere is no modern reader who does not hate and contemn him, but it\nremains true that whereas Philoctetes whom we pity and Neoptolemus whom\nwe love both take a strictly personal view, Odysseus at the risk of his\nlife insists on pressing the claim of the community. It is necessary to\nGreece that Troy should fall. She can only fall through the arrows of\nHeracles. The man who owns them will assuredly not consent. It follows\nthat he must be compelled to help, by force or guile. A conquering\nnation must have its Philip as well as its Alexander; Odysseus stands\nfor facts which twenty years of the Peloponnesian war had driven home\ninto Athenian minds. Neoptolemus is the type of many a young warrior who\nhas learned with aching disgust that the knightly exploits which tales\nof Marathon had fired him to perform must be thwarted unceasingly by the\npolitic meanderings of Nicias, by considerations of corn-supply, or the\n\u201crepresentations\u201d of some remote satrap.\n\nAnd in the end Odysseus gets his way. As the two friends start for\nhome, leaving the Greeks at Troy to defeat and the oracles of Heaven to\nnon-fulfilment, a god appears to command from the sky that self-sacrifice\nshall be revoked and hate forgotten. What are we to think of this\nintervention of Heracles? Is he not an extreme instance of the _deus\nex machina_? Is not mere compulsion employed to change a settled\nresolve? This is the most striking and the most difficult feature of\nthe construction: rather it seems the negation of structure. Why is it\nemployed? Some[351] have been content to suggest Euripidean influence\u2014of\ncourse no answer at all. Some[352] have thought that Heracles is\npersonified conscience, rising to remind Philoctetes of his duty to\nGreece; a suggestion ruled out by the fact that his duty has been urged\nclearly by Neoptolemus. A more attractive idea[353] is that the genuine\n_peripeteia_ of the play consists in Neoptolemus\u2019 change of front; in\nthis way an inner dramatic unity is secured, while the external change\ninduced by Heracles is a mere concession to the data of legend. This in\nits turn is vitiated by the fact that for the dramatist Philoctetes, and\nnot Neoptolemus, is the central figure: this is proved by the work as a\nwhole and by the title which the poet himself gave it. If the _deus ex\nmachina_ is not to be condemned utterly, it follows from the basic law\nof Attic art that the play up to the moment of Heracles\u2019 appearance,\nhowever complete it seemed to us a moment ago, is not complete\u2014that\nsome coping-stone is still needed. And if we consider the action up to\nthat point we cannot really be content. To disregard the oracles which\ntradition said were fulfilled, the action, as Sophocles depicts it, is\nunsatisfactory. Philoctetes is to get the revenge which seems rightly\nhis, and we approve his young companion who aids him at such cost. But\nby this time we feel a little dubious about the sufferer. There has\nbeen perhaps too much detail in his outcries and his account of his\nsufferings. Hatred which will refuse both health and fame, without any\nloss but that of aged intentions, has begun to seem a moral falsetto.\nBut who can say, without misgiving, that (on pagan principles) he is\nwrong? One person only in Heaven and earth\u2014Heracles. Every ordinary\nconsideration of public and personal interest has been put before\nPhiloctetes in vain. But there is another thought which neither the\nvictim himself nor Odysseus nor Neoptolemus has strength enough to\nsuggest, or even to remember. One character alone in Greek story rises\nabove the conception of personal injury or personal benefit as a motive\nto action; Heracles is the great reminder, not so much that wrongs to\noneself should be forgiven, as that life is too short and precious to\nbe wasted on revenge. Heracles would return a blow with vigour, but a\nvendetta, in the light of his career, seems a childish folly. One does\nnot forget that some pictures of his character (that, for instance, in\nthe _Trachini\u00e6_) belie this conception; but Sophocles here sees fit\nto choose a different, and the more usual, view. Suddenly the husk of\nselfish spite falls away from the sufferer\u2019s soul. He who has just\npromised[354] to use the weapons of Heracles in a private quarrel and\nhas already attempted[355] so to use them, at last remembers that they\nare the rightful instrument of well-doing, and that it was for such a\nreason[356] that he received them from the hero at his passing into\nglory. Heracles then is introduced as the only person who can press upon\nPhiloctetes an argument which the cunning of Odysseus and the candour of\nNeoptolemus have alike ignored. That he appears as a _deus ex machina_\nis in part accident\u2014he is not selected by the poet for that reason.\nBut it is a happy accident, for the glory which envelops him is the\nvisible warrant of his inspiring behests\u2014anything rather than the sign\nof overwhelming might summoned to break a reasonable human resolve. Thus\nthe close of this play is a real ending, not a breakdown; it is the pagan\nanalogue of the _Quo Vadis_ legend.\n\nThe whole play is an example of intrigue. The episode of the\npseudo-merchant[357] is the most brilliant feat of Sophocles in this\ndepartment. It reveals to Philoctetes that he is being pursued by the\nGreeks, without arousing his suspicion of Neoptolemus, and so gives\noccasion for the transfer of the bow when the sufferer\u2019s fit seizes him;\nit conveys a strong reminder of urgency to Neoptolemus; and it enables\nOdysseus to learn how his plot progresses. Odysseus merely by telling\nof his promise to capture Philoctetes is in a fair way to fulfil it,\nas it throws his prey into the arms of Neoptolemus. One apparent fault\nof construction is of a type which we have already noted. It is vital\nthat Philoctetes, before his first consent to leave the island, should\nknow his friend\u2019s real purpose of taking him to Troy. But why is he told\nof it? The merest beginner in duplicity would surely postpone such a\nrevelation until the victim was at sea. But Sophocles chooses to tighten\nhis plot up in order to give the situation in one picture.\n\nDio Chrysostom in one of his most valuable essays[358] sets up a\ncomparison between the plays on Philoctetes composed by the three\ntragedians. The work of Sophocles is the latest, and two peculiarities\nhelp us to see how far his originality went. Firstly, as a companion to\nOdysseus he introduces, not Diomedes as Euripides had done, but a figure\nnew to the Trojan war, an ingenuous lad whose sympathy brings out what\ngentleness remains in the sufferer\u2019s heart. Secondly, the chorus consists\nof Greek sailors, not of Lemnian natives as in the two other playwrights.\nSophocles will have no Lemnian visitors because for him it is a cardinal\nfact that Philoctetes all these years has been alone save for a chance\nship. Thus we gain for a moment a glance into the actual thoughts of\nSophocles: he has made up his mind that his Philoctetes must be quite\nsolitary. So essential is this that he falsifies known facts. Lemnos, he\nsays in the second line of his play, is \u201cuntrodden, uninhabited by men,\u201d\nwhereas, both in the times supposed and in the poet\u2019s own day, it was a\npopulous place. This, then, gives an invaluable indication of the extent\nto which Sophocles felt himself free to re-model his subject-matter. On\nthe play itself it throws light. The question is to be studied not from\nthe point of view of the Greek army, but from that of their potential\nhelper, soured as he is by a more extreme suffering than \u00c6schylus and\nEuripides had imagined.\n\nThe picture thus conceived is painted with splendid power. Romantic\ndesolation makes itself felt in the opening words of Odysseus, and this\nsense of the frowning grandeur of nature to which Philoctetes in his\ndespair appeals[359] is everywhere associated with the pathos of lonely\nsuffering. \u201cWhile the mountain nymph, babbling Echo, appearing afar,\nmakes answer to his bitter cries.\u201d[360] All that he says, from his first\nexclamation of joy at hearing again the Greek language to the noble\nspeech in which he bids farewell to the bitter home which use has made\nsomething like a friend, is instinct with this mingling of romance and\npathos. Deserted by all men he has yet found companions whom in his\nmisery he addresses; his hands, his poisoned foot, his eyes, his bow, and\nthe familiar landscape, vocal with the \u201cbass roar of the sea upon the\nheadland\u201d.[361] Closer even than these is his eternal unseen companion,\nPain, whom he found at his side on first awakening after the departure\nof the Greek host: \u201cWhen my scrutiny had traversed all the land, no\ninhabitant could I find therein save Sorrow; and that, my son, could be\nmet at every turn\u201d.[362]\n\nIt has been suspected that the play contains allusions to contemporary\npolitics, that the poet is thinking of Alcibiades\u2019 return from exile.\nIn 410\u2014the year before this play was produced\u2014he had gained credit from\nthe naval victory of Cyzicus. Some, moreover, have seen in Odysseus the\ncynical politician of the day. Other passages read like criticism of the\npublic \u201catmosphere\u201d at Athens in the closing years of the great war.\nThe dramatist is making deliberate comments on contemporary Athenian\npolitics, but he assuredly did not choose the whole theme of Philoctetes\nmerely because of Alcibiades\u2019 restoration.[363]\n\nTHE \u0152DIPUS COLONEUS[364] (\u039f\u1f30\u03b4\u03af\u03c0\u03bf\u03c5\u03c2 \u1f10\u03c0\u1f76 \u039a\u03bf\u03bb\u03c9\u03bd\u1ff7) or _\u0152dipus at Colonus_\nwas according to the customary view produced in 401 B.C., three years\nafter the poet\u2019s death, by his namesake and grandson. The background\nrepresents the grove of the Furies at Colonus, a village near Athens.\n\u0152dipus, exiled from Thebes, an aged blind wanderer, enters led by his\ndaughter Antigone. They obtain the favour of King Theseus and the\ncitizens, \u0152dipus promising that after his death his spirit shall defend\nAthens. Ismene, his daughter, brings news that an oracle has said that\nin the struggle between Thebes and the Seven led by Polynices, son of\n\u0152dipus, that side shall win which has possession of \u0152dipus. Both parties\nare now eager for his support, but he curses both his sons. Creon, King\nof Thebes, enters, and failing to gain aught but reproaches, carries off\nthe two girls, and is about to seize the father also when he is checked\nby the arrival of Theseus, who rescues the maidens. Polynices next comes\nto beg his father\u2019s aid, but is sent to his doom with curses. Then a peal\nof thunder announces to \u0152dipus that the moment of his passing is at hand.\nHe bids farewell to his daughters, and, watched only by Theseus, descends\nto the underworld; the place of his burial is to be known to none save\nTheseus and his successors. Ismene and Antigone in vain beg to be shown\nthe spot, and finally Antigone resolves to seek Thebes that she may\nreconcile her brothers.\n\nThis play is simple in structure, superbly rich in execution. \u0152dipus\ndominates all the scenes, which reveal with piercing intensity his\nphysical helplessness and the spiritual might which, marked at the\nopening, is overwhelming at the close. The poet\u2019s task is not merely\nto portray the last hours of a much-tried man, but the novitiate of a\nsuperhuman Power. \u0152dipus at last reaches peace and a welcome from the\ninfernal gods\u2014he becomes a \u03b4\u03b1\u03af\u03bc\u03c9\u03bd. The terrific feature is that even in\nthe flesh he anticipates his d\u00e6monic qualities. In the interview between\nhim and Polynices, the implacable hatred, the strength, the prophetic\nsight of the father, and the hopeless prayers, the wretchedness, the\ndespair and moral collapse of the doomed son, are nothing but the\npresentation in human life of the actual d\u00e6mon\u2019s power as prophesied\nfor future generations. Before the close we feel that the aged exile\u2019s\nsufferings, sombre wisdom, and simple burning emotions have already\nmade him a being of unearthly powers, sundered from normal humanity;\nhis strange passing is but the ratification of a spiritual fact already\naccomplished. But this weird climax is preceded by an equally wonderful\nstudy of the human \u0152dipus. The king who appears in the _\u0152dipus Tyrannus_\ncan here still be recognized. Passionate anger still directs much of his\nconduct, as friend and foe alike remind[365] him. But even his faults are\nmellowed by years and contemplation; his very anger shows some gleam of\na profounder patience. Throughout, the temper of \u0152dipus is like that of\nthe heavens above him\u2014gloom cleft by flashes of insight, indignation, and\nlove. Unlike other aged sufferers, he does not dwell in the past; unlike\nthe saint and martyr whom a Christian dramatist might have portrayed, he\ndoes not lean upon a future of glory or happiness. Nor again has he sunk\ninto a senile acquiescence in the present; he is far from being absorbed\nby the loving tendance of his daughters. The centre of his life has\nshifted, but not to any period of time\u2014rather to another plane of being.\nStill in the flesh, his human emotions as essential as ever, his life is\ngrowing assimilated to the non-human existence of the whole earth. And\nso it is that \u0152dipus meets \u201cdeath\u201d with cheerfulness; he is departing to\nhis own place. At the last moment the blind man leads those who see to\nthe place of his departure. What to them is dreadful and secret is to him\nthe centre of his longing; the terrific figures who inhabit his new home\nare welcome friends\u2014at the beginning of the play he addresses the Furies\nthemselves as \u201c_sweet_ daughters of primeval Night\u201d.[366] The whole drama\nat the end is full of this sense. In the farewell song of the chorus\nwhich commends the wanderer to the powers of Earth, there is an eerie\nprecision and picturesqueness in the description of the lower world; the\n\u201cinfernal moor\u201d[367] and the guardian hound gleam forth for an instant\ninto strange familiarity.\n\nThe other characters are carved, though in lower relief, yet with\nrichness and vigour. Theseus is the ideal Athenian gentleman,[368]\nsuddenly called to show pity to a pair of helpless wanderers, then\nunexpectedly involved in battle with a neighbour state, and finally\nconfronted with the most awful mysteries of divine government, without\never losing his courage or his discretion. Creon and Polynices, such is\nthe immense understanding of the aged poet, share too in this nobility\nof mind. They can face facts; and whether villains or not, they are\nmen of breeding. The \u201cstranger\u201d who first accosts \u0152dipus is a charming\nembodiment of that local patriotism to which we shall return in a\nmoment. The two sisters are beautifully distinguished by the divergent\nexperiences of years. Antigone\u2019s wandering and hardship have made her\nthe more intense and passionate; Ismene\u2019s life in Thebes have given her\ncomprehension of more immediate issues. It is through Antigone, moreover,\nwho declares that she will seek Thebes and attempt to save her brothers,\nthat the poet obtains one of his noblest effects. Overwhelming as is the\nstory of \u0152dipus, his end does not close all; life goes on to further\nmysteries of pain and affection.\n\nOn the purely literary side the _\u0152dipus Coloneus_ is certainly the\ngreatest and the most typical work of Sophocles. The most celebrated\nlyric in Greek is the splendid ode in praise of Colonus\u2014\u201cour white\nColonus; where the nightingale, a constant guest, trills her clear note\nin the covert of green glades, dwelling amid the wine-dark ivy and the\ngod\u2019s inviolate bowers, rich in berries and fruit, unvisited by sun,\nunvexed by wind of any storm; where the reveller Dionysus ever walks the\nground, companion of the nymphs that nursed him,\u201d[369]\u2014and of the whole\nland with its peculiar glories, the olive of peace and the steed of war.\nTo this should be added that address of \u0152dipus to Theseus concerning the\nfickleness of all things earthly which is less the speech of one man\nthan the voice of Life itself.[370] Noblest of all is the account of\n\u0152dipus\u2019 last moments, a passage which in breathless loveliness, pathos,\nand religious profundity is beyond telling flawless and without peer.\nIt is curious that Sophocles in this work which, more than any other,\nreveals his own poetic mastery should have definitely drawn attention to\nthe power of language. At various crises in the play he speaks of the\n\u201clittle word\u201d[371] and its potency. \u0152dipus reflects how his two sons for\nlack of a \u201clittle word\u201d in his defence have suffered him to be thrust\nforth into exile; the nobility of Theseus, the sudden hostility of Thebes\nin days to come, the appearance of Polynices, are all matters of the\n\u201clittle word\u201d which means so much. And in his marvellous farewell to his\ndaughters, \u0152dipus speaks of the \u201cone word\u201d which has made all his sorrows\nvanish\u2014\u201clove\u201d.\n\nEvery master-work of literature has a prophetic quality, and sending\nits roots down near to the deepest wells of life is instinct with\nunconscious kinships. The _\u0152dipus Coloneus_ is rich in this final glory\nof art. The whole conception of the sufferer, aged and blind but gifted\nwith spiritual sight, recalls the blind Milton\u2019s sublime address to the\nLight which \u201cshines inward\u201d; and the thought adds charm to Sophocles\u2019\ndescription of the nightingale[372] which\n\n    Sings darkling, and in shadiest covert hid\n    Tunes her nocturnal note.\n\nAgain, just as the whole scheme suggests _King Lear_, so does the simple\nvigour of Theseus\u2019 words,[373] when he enters at the terrific close amid\nthe bellowing of the unnatural tempest:\u2014\n\n                    \u03c0\u03ac\u03bd\u03c4\u03b1 \u03b3\u1f70\u03c1 \u03b8\u03b5\u03bf\u1fe6\n    \u03c4\u03bf\u03b9\u03b1\u1fe6\u03c4\u03b1 \u03c7\u03b5\u03b9\u03bc\u03ac\u03b6\u03bf\u03bd\u03c4\u03bf\u03c2 \u03b5\u1f30\u03ba\u03ac\u03c3\u03b1\u03b9 \u03c0\u03ac\u03c1\u03b1,\n\nrecall the \u201cpelting of this pitiless storm\u201d.[374] So too the divine\nsummons[375] which comes \u201cmany times, and manifold\u201d to \u0152dipus brings to\nmind the call \u201cSamuel! Samuel!\u201d The mystery of \u0152dipus\u2019 tomb suggests the\npassing of another august soul: \u201cNo man knoweth of his sepulchre unto\nthis day,\u201d[376] and of Joseph, named among the faithful, who \u201cwhen he\ndied, made mention of the departing of the children of Israel; and gave\ncommandment concerning his bones\u201d.[377]\n\nThis play is deeply religious in the very details of its theme as well as\nin its tone. Besides the usual orthodox background there is the lovely\npresentation of a minor local worship\u2014the cult of the Eumenides at\nColonus, Sophocles\u2019 native village. The aged poet in his last years seems\nto have returned with special affection to the simple observances which\nhe had learnt as a boy, and which evoke one of his most characteristic\nphrases:\u2014[378]\n\n    \u03c4\u03bf\u03b9\u03b1\u1fe6\u03c4\u03ac \u03c3\u03bf\u03b9 \u03c4\u03b1\u1fe6\u03c4\u2019 \u1f10\u03c3\u03c4\u03af\u03bd, \u1f66 \u03be\u03ad\u03bd\u2019, \u03bf\u1f50 \u03bb\u03cc\u03b3\u03bf\u03b9\u03c2\n    \u03c4\u03b9\u03bc\u03ce\u03bc\u03b5\u03bd\u2019, \u1f00\u03bb\u03bb\u1f70 \u03c4\u1fc7 \u03be\u03c5\u03bd\u03bf\u03c5\u03c3\u03af\u1fb3 \u03c0\u03bb\u03ad\u03bf\u03bd,\n\nthe piercing simplicity of which, as well as the theme, suggests\nWordsworth. The lustral bowls, he is careful to tell us, are \u201cthe work\nof a skilled craftsman\u201d;[379] he is almost on the point of telling us\nhis name\u2014one can imagine the boy of eighty years ago gazing on these\ncups, and his first sense of beauty in workmanship. Those who would\noffer sacrifice will find dwelling on the spot a sacristan to instruct\nand aid them.[380] Everything on this ground is both familiar and\nhallowed; the mysterious \u201cbrazen threshold,\u201d the statues of local deities\nand heroes, the hollow pear-tree, and the other local sanctities are\ncarefully particularized, so that the calm beauty of the country-side\nand the terrors of religion are strangely and beautifully interwoven.\nAs for religion in the broader, profounder sense, we have as elsewhere\na reference of human suffering merely to an inscrutable, divine\npurpose.[381] But the dramatist indicates carefully the contribution of\nhuman nature to the fulfilment of the oracles; Polynices[382] becomes\nsubject to his father\u2019s curse because his own sense of honour forbids him\nto relinquish his foredoomed enterprise. \u0152dipus himself has attained to\na wiser conception of sin[383] than that which rules him at the close of\nthe _Tyrannus_. He has acted wrongly, therefore his suffering is just;\nbut he is morally innocent, and his past actions afflict him as sorrows,\nnot as crimes.[384]\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nThe fragments of the lost plays are on the whole disappointing; a large\nproportion are single rare words quoted by ancient lexicographers, and\nmost of the rest are short sentences or phrases. There remain the few\nlonger fragments, to which in recent years important additions have been\nmade.\n\nIt seems that the _Triptolemus_ was his first play, produced in 468\nB.C. when the poet was twenty-eight. It would then be one of the works\nwith which he won his victory[385] over \u00c6schylus, and it bore marks of\nthe older writer\u2019s influence. The theme is the mission of Triptolemus,\nwho traversed the earth distributing to men corn, the gift of Demeter,\nand founded the mysteries at Eleusis. This topic gave room for a long\ngeographical passage which recalls those of the _Prometheus_. Other\nearly dramas were the _Thamyras_ in which the dramatist himself took the\nname-part and played the cithara, and the _Nausicaa_ or _Women Washing_\nwherein Sophocles acted the part of that princess and gained applause by\nhis skill in a game of ball. The satyric drama _Amphiaraus_ contained a\ncurious scene wherein an illiterate man conveyed some name or other word\nto his hearers by a dance in which his contortions represented successive\nletters. Another satyric play _The Mustering of the Greeks_ (\u1f08\u03c7\u03b1\u03b9\u1ff6\u03bd\n\u03a3\u03cd\u03bb\u03bb\u03bf\u03b3\u03bf\u03c2) or the _Dinner-Party_ (\u03a3\u03cd\u03bd\u03b4\u03b5\u03b9\u03c0\u03bd\u03bf\u03b9) earned the reprobation of\nCicero[386] apparently for its coarseness, which can still be noted in\nthe fragments. In _The Lovers of Achilles_ (\u1f08\u03c7\u03b9\u03bb\u03bb\u03ad\u03c9\u03c2 \u1f10\u03c1\u03b1\u03c3\u03c4\u03b1\u03af) there was\na passage describing the perplexity of passion, which in its mannered\nfelicity recalls Swinburne or the Sonnets of Shakespeare:\u2014\n\n    Love is a sweet perplexity of soul,\n    Most like the sport of younglings, when the sky\n    In winter-clearness scatters frost abroad:\n    They seize a glittering icicle, filled a while\n    With joy and wonder; but ere long the toy\n    Melts, and they know not how to grasp it still,\n    Tho\u2019 loth to cast it from them. So with lovers:\n    Their yearning passion holds them hour by hour\n    Poised betwixt boldness and reluctant awe.\n\nThe _Laocoon_, which dealt with a famous episode in the capture of\nTroy, supplies a fragment describing \u00c6neas\u2019 escape from the city with\nhis father upon his shoulders; one or two other passages[387] besides\nthis recall Vergil\u2019s treatment. Another tragedy from the same cycle\nof stories, the _Polyxena_, is praised by \u201cLonginus\u201d[388] in the same\nterms of eulogy as the culmination of the _\u0152dipus Coloneus_ itself. The\n_Tereus_,[389] to judge from the number of fragments, was very popular;\nit dealt with the frightful fable of the Thracian King Tereus, his wife\nProcne, and her sister Philomela, all of whom were at last changed into\nbirds. Aristophanes[390] has an obscure series of jests about this play\nand the beak-mask with which Sophocles \u201coutraged\u201d the Thracian monarch. A\nsolitary relic of the _Orithyia_ tells how the maiden was carried off by\nthe wind-god Boreas\n\n    Unto Earth\u2019s verge, beyond the farthest sea,\n    Vistas of Heaven, and well-springs of the dark,\n    To the Sun\u2019s ancient garden.\n\nIn 1907 there came to light at Oxyrhynchus in Egypt considerable\nfragments[391] of two Sophoclean dramas.\n\nMost of these once formed part of the _Ichneut\u00e6_ (\u1f38\u03c7\u03bd\u03b5\u03c5\u03c4\u03b1\u03af) or\n_Detectives_. Formerly we had only two brief and obscure fragments, and\none word quoted by Athen\u00e6us; it was known that the play was satyric. The\ntheme was quite uncertain; and conjecture[392] is now shown to have gone\nquite astray. Sophocles, we find, has dramatized the myth so admirably\ntreated in the Homeric _Hymn to Hermes_. A considerable portion of the\nwork can now be read. The god Apollo announces that his cattle have been\nstolen and that he cannot trace them; he offers a reward to anyone who\ncatches the thief. Silenus and the chorus of satyrs undertake the quest;\nthey are the \u201ctrackers\u201d from whom the play is named. After a time they\nspy the footprints of oxen and exclaim that \u201csome god is leading the\ncolony\u201d. A noise[393] which they cannot understand is heard behind the\nscenes. The numerous tracks now give them trouble; they point backwards\nhere and there\u2014\u201can odd confusion must have possessed the herdsman!\u201d Next\nthe satyrs fall on their faces, to the amazement of Silenus who likens\nthis \u201ctrick of hunting on your stomach\u201d to the position of \u201ca hedgehog in\na bush\u201d. They bid him listen; he importantly replies that they are not\nhelping \u201cmy investigation,\u201d loses his temper, and roundly reviles their\ncowardice. They recover themselves and soon arrive at a cave. Silenus\nkicks at the door until the nymph Cyllene comes forth. She protests\nagainst their boisterous behaviour, but is appeased by their apologies.\nWhen they ask the meaning of the strange sound, Cyllene reports the birth\nof the god Hermes whom she is tending within, and his amazingly rapid\ngrowth. The noise is produced by the babe from \u201ca vessel filled with\npleasure made from a dead beast\u201d. The \u201cdetectives\u201d are still perplexed;\nwhat is this creature? The goddess describes the creature in riddling\nlanguage. They make laughably divergent guesses: a cat, a panther, a\nlizard, a crab, a big-horned beetle; and at last they are told that the\nbeast is a tortoise. She describes the delight[394] which the child\ndraws from his playing. The satyrs inform Cyllene that her nursling is\nthe thief; she indignantly denies that a son of Zeus can have so acted,\nand takes the accusation as a joke. They vigorously repeat their charge,\nand begin to quarrel with Cyllene. From this point onwards practically\nnothing can be made of the papyrus-scraps, except that Apollo re-appears,\nand seems to be giving the \u201cdetectives\u201d their reward.\n\nThe papyrus which contained the other play, the _Eurypylus_,[395] is\nin tiny fragments, but some of these, combined with our independent\nknowledge of the story, enable us to give an outline of the plot.\nAstyoche, mother of Eurypylus, was induced by Priam to allow her son to\nhelp the Trojans against the Greeks. He met Neoptolemus, son of Achilles,\nin battle and was slain. A messenger related the encounter to (it seems)\nhis mother Astyoche. The body was received by Priam with lamentation as\nif for a son of his own. This fragment is much the most striking of the\ncollection.\n\nSophocles\u2019 position in literary history has already been indicated.[396]\nWe shall here discuss his mind and his art in general outline. Of his\npolitical opinions little is known. Though his work abounds in saws of\nstatecraft, these are of quite general application;[397] and it would be\ndangerous to declare which side, if any, he took in the political crises\nwhich were so numerous and so grave in fifth-century Athens; there is\nperhaps one hint[398] that he did not approve the ascendancy of Pericles.\nAs for religion, he seems to have accepted both the orthodox cults of\nhis country and the current beliefs of the ordinary Athenian with little\nreserve or none. This brings us at once to a fact which must not be\nignored\u2014the feeling among readers of our own day, that Sophocles for\nall his merits is a little too complacent, too urbane, lacking somehow\nin profundity and real grip upon the soul. The answer is that we come\nto Sophocles pre-occupied by the religious questionings which fill our\nown time and which, moreover, interest both \u00c6schylus and Euripides; but\nthere is no reason why Sophocles should share our disquiet or that of\nhis fellow-craftsmen. That which for \u00c6schylus is the foreground of his\nwork, forms for Sophocles only the background. He is not especially\ninterested in religion itself, but in humanity. For \u00c6schylus religion\nis an affair of the intellect; for Euripides it is an affair of morals;\nfor Sophocles it belongs to the sphere of emotion. And the two great\ninstruments with which he constructs his plays are human emotions and\nhuman will. For all the plays which we possess the same genesis exists:\nthe chief character experiences some mighty appeal to the emotions\u2014the\nfeeling of self-respect in Ajax and \u0152dipus at Athens, of family love\nin Antigone and Electra, of revengefulness in Philoctetes, of wifely\ndignity and affection in Deianira, of pity in \u0152dipus at Thebes; and then\ncreates drama by the magnificent pathetic staunchness wherewith the will,\ntaking its direction from the emotion so aroused, presses on ruthlessly\nin its attempt to satisfy this impulse. Nothing seems so dear to him\nas a purpose which flaunts cold reason, the purpose of any others, and\nindeed every other emotion save that which has started the action upon\nits course. He sets before us a person determined on some striking act,\nand subjects him to all conceivable assaults of reason and preachments\non expediency, showing him unbroken throughout. The onslaughts upon\nAjax, Antigone, Philoctetes, \u0152dipus, are not mere stage-rhetoric; they\nare \u201csound common-sense,\u201d \u201cappeals to one\u2019s better self\u201d; and no logical\ndenial can be opposed to them. Only one power in man is able to withstand\nthem\u2014the will, taking its stand once for all upon some instinct for\nclear, simple action. If we never listen to reason we are lost; but if\nwe always listen we are lost equally. That these heroes of the will so\noften come to misery or death matters little; they have saved their\nsouls alive instead of sinking themselves in a sordid acceptance of a\nsecond-hand morality. Over against these figures, to emphasize their\ndefiant grandeur, the poet loves to set persons admirable indeed, but\nmore commonplace, who emerge in the dread hour when the haughty will has\nbrought ruin, and approve themselves as the pivot of the situation. The\nhero is great and strikes the imagination, but it is on the shoulders of\nmen like Creon in the _\u0152dipus Tyrannus_, Odysseus, Hyllus, Theseus in\nthe _\u0152dipus Coloneus_, that the real burden of the world\u2019s work may be\nsafely cast. None the less he loves Antigone better than he loves Ismene,\n\u0152dipus rather than Theseus. In one place at least, in his dislike for the\n\u201creasonable\u201d spirit of compromise, he suffers himself a malicious little\n_reductio ad absurdum_. When Chrysothemis finds Electra uttering her\nresentment at the palace gate she says:\u2014[399]\n\n    Sister! Again? Why standest at the door\n    Holding this language? Will no span of years\n    Teach thee at length to grudge thy foolish spleen\n    Such empty comfort? Yet mine own heart too\n    Knows how it sorrows for our present state....\n                                        I avow\n    That in thy spirit dwelleth righteousness\n    Not in my words. _Yet, if I would be free_\n    _I must in all things bend to those in power._\n\nAs for the plots themselves, their main feature is that deliberate\ncomplexity which we have called intrigue and which was made possible by\nthe poet\u2019s use of a third actor. After the great achievements of \u00c6schylus\nit became necessary to add some fresh kind of interest; this Euripides\nfound in a readjustment of sympathies, Sophocles in an increase of\ndramatic thrill. It is an exciting moment in the _Trachini\u00e6_ when, just\nas Deianira is about to re-enter the palace, the messenger mysteriously\ndraws her apart and reveals the truth about the captive Iole. The\nmagnificent death-scene of Ajax is the outcome of the cunning wherewith\nhe has thrown his friends off the scent. The _Electra_ is full of this\nmethod; the mission of Chrysothemis is turned into a weapon against the\nmurderess who sent her, and the episode of Orestes\u2019 funeral-urn is a\nmagnificent piece of dramatic artistry. In the _\u0152dipus Tyrannus_ the king\nbrings about his own fatal illumination by sending for the herdsman.\nThe _Philoctetes_, above all, is filled with the deliberate plotting of\nOdysseus. The marked increase in complexity which Sophocles\u2019 work thus\nshows as compared with that of \u00c6schylus is undoubtedly the chief (perhaps\nthe only) reason for his desertion of the trilogy form.[400] Side by\nside with this attention to mechanism is that curious indifference to\nthe fringes of the plot which we have had occasion to notice in several\nplaces.\n\nAnother characteristic of Sophocles is that famous \u201ctragic irony\u201d by\nwhich again he imparts new power to old themes. It turns to magnificent\nprofit a circumstance which might seem to vitiate dramatic interest\u2014the\nfact that the spectator knows the myth and therefore cannot be taken\nby surprise. Between an audience which foresees the event, and the\nstage-personages who cannot, the playwright sets up a thrilling interest\nof suspense. He causes his characters to discuss the future they expect\nin language which is fearfully and exquisitely suitable to the future\nwhich actually awaits them. Ajax, while his madness still afflicts\nhim, stands amid the slaughtered cattle and proclaims his triumph over\nthe Greek chieftains, just before he awakes to the truth that by his\n\u201ctriumph\u201d he has ruined himself. More elaborate is the scene in which\nDeianira explains her stratagem of the robe which is to bring back the\nlove of Heracles. But the _\u0152dipus Tyrannus_ provides by far the finest\ninstance. As the king in scene after scene accumulates horror upon his\nown unconscious head, the spectator receives, always at the right moment\nand in full measure, the impact of increasing disaster. Yet since his\nperception is a discovery which he himself has made, horror is tempered\nby an intellectual glow, a spiritual exaltation.\n\nIn the art of iambic verse Sophocles stands beyond all other Greeks\nunrivalled. Beside him \u00c6schylus sounds almost clumsy, Euripides glib,\nAristophanes vulgar. Only Shakespeare has that complete mastery over\nevery shade of emphasis, every possibility of grandeur and simple\nease alike. The iambic line in Sophocles\u2019 hands can at will display a\nhaunting romantic loveliness, the profoundest dignity, the sharpest edges\nof emotion, or the quiet prose of every day. Consider the following\nlines,[401] which begin near the end of Electra\u2019s long speech of\ncomplaint to the chorus:\u2014\n\n    \u0397\u039b. \u1f10\u03b3\u1f7c \u03b4\u2019 \u1f48\u03c1\u03ad\u03c3\u03c4\u03b7\u03bd \u03c4\u1ff6\u03bd\u03b4\u03b5 \u03c0\u03c1\u03bf\u03c3\u03bc\u03ad\u03bd\u03bf\u03c5\u03c3\u2019 \u1f00\u03b5\u1f76\n        \u03c0\u03b1\u03c5\u03c3\u03c4\u1fc6\u03c1\u2019 \u1f10\u03c6\u03ae\u03be\u03b5\u03b9\u03bd \u1f21 \u03c4\u03ac\u03bb\u03b1\u03b9\u03bd\u2019 \u1f00\u03c0\u03cc\u03bb\u03bb\u03c5\u03bc\u03b1\u03b9.\n        \u03bc\u03ad\u03bb\u03bb\u03c9\u03bd \u03b3\u1f70\u03c1 \u1f00\u03b5\u1f76 \u03b4\u03c1\u1fb6\u03bd \u03c4\u03b9 \u03c4\u1f70\u03c2 \u03bf\u1f54\u03c3\u03b1\u03c2 \u03c4\u03ad \u03bc\u03bf\u03c5\n        \u03ba\u03b1\u1f76 \u03c4\u1f70\u03c2 \u1f00\u03c0\u03bf\u03cd\u03c3\u03b1\u03c2 \u1f10\u03bb\u03c0\u03af\u03b4\u03b1\u03c2 \u03b4\u03b9\u03ad\u03c6\u03b8\u03bf\u03c1\u03b5\u03bd.\n        \u1f10\u03bd \u03bf\u1f56\u03bd \u03c4\u03bf\u03b9\u03bf\u03cd\u03c4\u03bf\u03b9\u03c2 \u03bf\u1f54\u03c4\u03b5 \u03c3\u03c9\u03c6\u03c1\u03bf\u03bd\u03b5\u1fd6\u03bd, \u03c6\u03af\u03bb\u03b1\u03b9,\n        \u03bf\u1f54\u03c4\u2019 \u03b5\u1f50\u03c3\u03b5\u03b2\u03b5\u1fd6\u03bd \u03c0\u03ac\u03c1\u03b5\u03c3\u03c4\u03b9\u03bd\u00b7 \u1f00\u03bb\u03bb\u2019 \u1f14\u03bd \u03c4\u03bf\u03b9 \u03ba\u03b1\u03ba\u03bf\u1fd6\u03c2\n        \u03c0\u03bf\u03bb\u03bb\u03ae \u2019\u03c3\u03c4\u2019 \u1f00\u03bd\u03ac\u03b3\u03ba\u03b7 \u03ba\u1f00\u03c0\u03b9\u03c4\u03b7\u03b4\u03b5\u03cd\u03b5\u03b9\u03bd \u03ba\u03b1\u03ba\u03ac.\n    \u03a7\u039f. \u03c6\u03ad\u03c1\u2019 \u03b5\u1f30\u03c0\u03ad, \u03c0\u03cc\u03c4\u03b5\u03c1\u03bf\u03bd \u1f44\u03bd\u03c4\u03bf\u03c2 \u0391\u1f30\u03b3\u03af\u03c3\u03b8\u03bf\u03c5 \u03c0\u03ad\u03bb\u03b1\u03c2\n        \u03bb\u03ad\u03b3\u03b5\u03b9\u03c2 \u03c4\u03ac\u03b4\u2019 \u1f21\u03bc\u1fd6\u03bd, \u1f22 \u03b2\u03b5\u03b2\u1ff6\u03c4\u03bf\u03c2 \u1f10\u03ba \u03b4\u03cc\u03bc\u03c9\u03bd;\n    \u0397\u039b. \u1f26 \u03ba\u03ac\u03c1\u03c4\u03b1 \u03bc\u1f74 \u03b4\u03cc\u03ba\u03b5\u03b9 \u03bc\u2019 \u1f04\u03bd, \u03b5\u1f34\u03c0\u03b5\u03c1 \u1f26\u03bd \u03c0\u03ad\u03bb\u03b1\u03c2,\n        \u03b8\u03c5\u03c1\u03b1\u1fd6\u03bf\u03bd \u03bf\u1f30\u03c7\u03bd\u03b5\u1fd6\u03bd\u00b7 \u03bd\u1fe6\u03bd \u03b4\u2019 \u1f00\u03b3\u03c1\u03bf\u1fd6\u03c3\u03b9 \u03c4\u03c5\u03b3\u03c7\u03ac\u03bd\u03b5\u03b9.\n    \u03a7\u039f. \u1f26 \u03ba\u1f02\u03bd \u1f10\u03b3\u1f7c \u03b8\u03b1\u03c1\u03c3\u03bf\u1fe6\u03c3\u03b1 \u03bc\u1fb6\u03bb\u03bb\u03bf\u03bd \u1f10\u03c2 \u03bb\u03cc\u03b3\u03bf\u03c5\u03c2\n        \u03c4\u03bf\u1f7a\u03c2 \u03c3\u03bf\u1f7a\u03c2 \u1f31\u03ba\u03bf\u03af\u03bc\u03b7\u03bd, \u03b5\u1f34\u03c0\u03b5\u03c1 \u1f67\u03b4\u03b5 \u03c4\u03b1\u1fe6\u03c4\u2019 \u1f14\u03c7\u03b5\u03b9;\n    \u0397\u039b. \u1f61\u03c2 \u03bd\u1fe6\u03bd \u1f00\u03c0\u03cc\u03bd\u03c4\u03bf\u03c2 \u1f31\u03c3\u03c4\u03cc\u03c1\u03b5\u03b9 \u03c4\u03af \u03c3\u03bf\u03b9 \u03c6\u03af\u03bb\u03bf\u03bd.\n\nElectra\u2019s speech is solemn poetry. The large number of spondees[402]\n(there are three in the last line), the slow elaboration of the ideas\u2014an\nelaboration admirably pointed by \u03c4\u03bf\u03b9, which brings the rhythm almost to\na standstill\u2014make a strong contrast with the following conversation.\nThere the relaxation of the rhythm is unmistakable; \u03c6\u03ad\u03c1\u2019 \u03b5\u1f30\u03c0\u03ad is almost\ncasual in its lightness, and it is at once followed by a tribrach. The\nrather odd use of the bare dative \u1f00\u03b3\u03c1\u03bf\u1fd6\u03c3\u03b9 is a delightfully neat tinge\nof colloquialism, supported by \u03c4\u03c5\u03b3\u03c7\u03ac\u03bd\u03b5\u03b9. The _Philoctetes_ will repay\nspecial study from this point of view. There is a remarkable tendency\nto divide[403] lines between speakers in order to express excitement;\nthis device is elsewhere very uncommon. From this play we may select one\nexample[404] of amazing skill in rhythm. Philoctetes is explaining how he\ncontrives to crawl to and fro in quest of food and the like:\u2014\n\n                      \u03b3\u03b1\u03c3\u03c4\u03c1\u1f76 \u03bc\u1f72\u03bd \u03c4\u1f70 \u03c3\u03cd\u03bc\u03c6\u03bf\u03c1\u03b1\n    \u03c4\u03cc\u03be\u03bf\u03bd \u03c4\u03cc\u03b4\u2019 \u1f10\u03be\u03b7\u03cd\u03c1\u03b9\u03c3\u03ba\u03b5, \u03c4\u1f70\u03c2 \u1f51\u03c0\u03bf\u03c0\u03c4\u03ad\u03c1\u03bf\u03c5\u03c2\n    \u03b2\u03ac\u03bb\u03bb\u03bf\u03bd \u03c0\u03b5\u03bb\u03b5\u03af\u03b1\u03c2\u00b7 \u03c0\u03c1\u1f78\u03c2 \u03b4\u1f72 \u03c4\u03bf\u1fe6\u03b8\u2019, \u1f45 \u03bc\u03bf\u03b9 \u03b2\u03ac\u03bb\u03bf\u03b9\n    \u03bd\u03b5\u03c5\u03c1\u03bf\u03c3\u03c0\u03b1\u03b4\u1f74\u03c2 \u1f04\u03c4\u03c1\u03b1\u03ba\u03c4\u03bf\u03c2, \u03b1\u1f50\u03c4\u1f78\u03c2 \u1f02\u03bd \u03c4\u03ac\u03bb\u03b1\u03c2\n    \u03b5\u1f30\u03bb\u03c5\u03cc\u03bc\u03b7\u03bd \u03b4\u03cd\u03c3\u03c4\u03b7\u03bd\u03bf\u03c2 \u1f10\u03be\u03ad\u03bb\u03ba\u03c9\u03bd \u03c0\u03cc\u03b4\u03b1\n    \u03c0\u03c1\u1f78\u03c2 \u03c4\u03bf\u1fe6\u03c4\u2019 \u1f04\u03bd.\n\nThe dull repetition of \u03c0\u03c1\u1f78\u03c2 \u03c4\u03bf\u1fe6\u03c4\u03bf and of \u1f04\u03bd; the extremely slow movement\nof the penultimate line with its three spondees and the word-ending at\nthe close of the second foot; above all, the manner in which the whole\ndragging sentence leads up to the monosyllable \u1f04\u03bd, so rare at the end\nof a sentence, and there stops dead, is a marvellous suggestion of the\nlame man\u2019s painful progress and of the way in which at the end of his\nendurance he falls prone and spent upon the object of his endeavour.\n\nSpecially striking phrases are not common. Sophocles obtains his effect\nnot by brilliant strokes of diction, but by the cumulative effect of a\nsustained manner. There are such dexterities of course, like Antigone\u2019s\n\u03c0\u03cc\u03b8\u03bf\u03c2 \u03c4\u03bf\u03b9 \u03ba\u03b1\u1f76 \u03ba\u03b1\u03ba\u1ff6\u03bd \u1f04\u03c1\u2019 \u1f26\u03bd \u03c4\u03b9\u03c2,[405] and the cry of Electra to her\nbrother\u2019s ashes:\u2014[406]\n\n    \u03c4\u03bf\u03af\u03b3\u03b1\u03c1 \u03c3\u1f7a \u03b4\u03ad\u03be\u03b1\u03b9 \u03bc\u2019 \u1f10\u03c2 \u03c4\u1f78 \u03c3\u1f78\u03bd \u03c4\u03cc\u03b4\u03b5 \u03c3\u03c4\u03ad\u03b3\u03bf\u03c2\n    \u03c4\u1f74\u03bd \u03bc\u03b7\u03b4\u1f72\u03bd \u03b5\u1f30\u03c2 \u03c4\u1f78 \u03bc\u03b7\u03b4\u03ad\u03bd.\n\nA poet who can, by that infinitesimal change from \u03c4\u1f78\u03bd \u03bc\u03b7\u03b4\u03ad\u03bd to \u03c4\u1f78 \u03bc\u03b7\u03b4\u03ad\u03bd,\nindicate the very soul of grief, may claim to be one of the immortal\nmasters of language.\n\nModern readers find one great fault in this poet\u2014colourlessness,\ncoldness, an absence of hearty verve; he seems a little too polished\nand restrained. The truth is that in Sophocles the Attic spirit finds\nits literary culmination. \u00c6schylus lives in the pre-Periclean world;\nEuripides is too restless and cosmopolitan to reflect the spirit of one\nnation only; Plato and Demosthenes belong to the age of disillusionment\nwhich came after \u00c6gospotami; and Thucydides, though he shows many Attic\nqualities, is without limpidity. Anyone, then, who would understand the\nAthenian genius as embodied in letters must read Sophocles. He will find\nthe most useful commentary in the Parthenon and its friezes, and in\nthe remains of Greek statuary. One of the most marvellous and precious\nexperiences in life is to gaze upon works like the so-called Fates in\nthe British Museum, the Venus of Melos, or the Ludovisi Hera. Many a\ncasual visitor has glanced for the first time at these works and known\nstrong disappointment. A mere piece of marble accurately worked into a\nfemale face or figure; majestic to be sure\u2014but is this all? If he will\nlook again he at last perceives that the stone has put on, not merely\nhumanity, but immortality. An invisible glow radiates from it like the\nodour from a flower. We have never found any name for it but Beauty.\nIt is indeed the quintessence of loveliness, delicate as gossamer yet\nindestructible as granite. So with the tragedies of Sophocles: it is\npossible to read the _\u0152dipus Tyrannus_ in certain moods and find it mere\nfrigid elegance. But, as with the beauties of Nature, so with the glories\nof art, it is the second glance, the lingering of the eye beyond the\ncareless moment, that surprises something of the ultimate secret.\n\nFor reticence is one of the notes of Athenian art. No writer ever\neffected so much with so scanty materials as Sophocles; he carries the\nart of masterly omission to its extreme. Shakespeare attempts to express\neverything; the mere exuberance of his phraseology is as wonderful as\nanything else in his work. But even _King Lear_ or _Hamlet_, being\nwritten by a man, share the weakness of humanity and leave the foundation\nof life undisclosed. Such a disability may daunt the scientist; it is the\nsalvation of the artist; for the effect of all art rests on co-operation\nbetween the maker and the spectator of the work. In literature, then, the\nauthor knows that he must omit, and the reader or hearer must supply for\nhimself the contributions of his own heart and experience. How much then\nis he to omit? On the varying answers to that question rest the different\nforms of literature and the divergent schools of each form. Sophocles\nhas left more to his hearer than any other writer in the world. Another\nnote of Athenian art is simplicity. It is not crudeness, nor _na\u00efvet\u00e9_,\nnor baldness of style. In a thousand passages of Sophocles, Thucydides,\nand Plato, the line between savourless banality and the words they have\nwritten is fine indeed, but that little means a whole world of art. Many\na fine author\u2014Marlowe is a conspicuous example\u2014writes nobly because\nhe writes violently, or with a conscious effort to soar. But let him\nonce trip, and he sprawls in bombast or nerveless garrulity. Simplicity\nwithout baldness is the most difficult of all literary excellences,\nand is yet achieved everywhere by Sophocles except when he rises to a\ndifferent level, of which we shall speak later.\n\nSuch then is the cause of Sophoclean frigidity and lack of colour.\nHe is led to write so by his Attic frugality and economy of effect,\nby his knowledge that his audience can follow him into his rarefied\natmosphere, and by another cause. In our own time men have looked to art\nfor a \u201cmessage\u201d from more exciting or more lovely spheres. We talk of\n\u201cthe literature of escape\u201d; for us art must be an expanding influence.\nThe Athenian sought in it a concentrating influence. Each citizen who\nwitnessed the _Antigone_ was a member of a sovereign assembly; he\nunderstood foreign policy at first hand; war or peace depended upon his\nvoice. Many came to watch the _Ajax_ who had but a while ago fought at\n\u0152nophyta or in Egypt. Such men did not need \u201clocal colour\u201d and exciting\ntechnicalities. Their own lives were full of great events. What they\nasked of art was serenity, profundity, to blend their own scattered\nexperiences into one noble picture of life itself, life made beautiful\nbecause so wonderfully comprehended. This was the function of Sophocles\nand his brother-craftsmen.\n\nBeyond the normal lucid beauty of lyrics and dialogue, and beyond the\nfrequent outpourings of splendid eloquence in long speeches, there is a\nstill higher level of poetry which should be noted. Now and again his\npages are filled with an unearthly splendour. Reference has been made\nbefore to certain isolated lines which combine utter simplicity with\nbewildering charm.[407] But here and there the poet has given us whole\nspeeches in this divine manner. They are always a comment on the matter\nin hand, but they are conceived in the spirit of one who \u201ccontemplates\nall time and all existence,\u201d who stands apart from man and sees him\nin his place amid the workings of the universe. One of these ethereal\nutterances is the speech[408] of \u0152dipus to Theseus who has expressed\nhis doubt whether Thebes will ever desert the friendship of Athens; it\nbegins:\u2014\n\n    Fair Aigeus\u2019 son, only to gods in heaven\n    Comes no old age nor death of anything;\n    All else is turmoiled by our master Time.\n    The earth\u2019s strength fades and manhood\u2019s glory fades,\n    Faith dies, and unfaith blossoms like a flower.\n    And who shall find in the open streets of men\n    Or secret places of his own heart\u2019s love\n    One wind blow true for ever?\n\nMore personal, but instinct with the same glow of imaginative beauty is\nthe soliloquy[409] of Ajax when at the point of death. It is in passages\nlike these that one realizes the value of the restraint which obtains\nelsewhere; when the author gives his voice full scope the effect is\nheartshaking. Ajax\u2019 appeal to the sun-god to \u201ccheck his gold-embossed\nrein\u201d fills with splendour at a word the heavens which were lowering with\nhorror. It recalls Marlowe\u2019s lines of the same type and effect though\nin different application, which suffuse the agony of Faust with bitter\nglory:\u2014\n\n    Stand still, you ever-moving spheres of Heaven\n    That time may cease, and midnight never come!\n\nThe greatest achievement of Sophocles was, however, reserved till the\nclose of his life. The messenger\u2019s speech,[410] narrating the last\nmoments of \u0152dipus, is the culmination in Greek of whatever miracles\nhuman language can compass in exciting awe and delight. The poet has\nbent all his mastery of tense idiom, of varied and haunting rhythm, all\nhis instinct for the pathos of life and the mystery of fate, to produce\none mighty uplifting of the hearer into the region where emotion and\nintellect are no longer opposed but mingle into something for which we\nhave no name but \u201cLife\u201d.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER V\n\nTHE WORKS OF EURIPIDES\n\n\nOf nearly one hundred dramas composed by Euripides nineteen[411] have\nsurvived. These are now discussed in the approximate chronological order;\nthe precise date of production is, however, known in but few cases.\n\nThe ALCESTIS[412] (\u1f0c\u03bb\u03ba\u03b7\u03c3\u03c4\u03b9\u03c2), acted in 438 B.C., when the poet was\nalready forty-two years old, is the earliest. It formed the fourth play\nof a tetralogy which contained the lost works _Women of Crete_, _Alcm\u00e6on\nat Psophis_, and _Telephus_. Euripides obtained the second prize, being\nvanquished by Sophocles\u2014with what play is not known. The scene is laid\nat Pher\u00e6 and presents the palace of Admetus, King of Thessaly. The god\nApollo relates how he has induced the Fates to allow Admetus to escape\ndeath on his destined day, if he can find some one to die in his stead.\nAll refused save his wife, Alcestis, whose death therefore is to happen\nthis very day. Thanatos (Death) enters and Apollo in vain asks him to\nspare the queen; a quarrel follows, and Apollo departs with threats. The\nchorus of Pher\u00e6an elders enter and hear, from a servant, of Alcestis\u2019\ncourageous leave-takings. Next the queen is borne forth and dies amid\nthe lamentations of her husband and little son. All save the chorus\nretire to prepare for the funeral, when Heracles enters. Admetus comes\nforth and insists on making the hero his guest, pretending that it is a\nstranger who has died. Heracles is taken to the guest-chamber and the\nelders reproach Admetus for his unseasonable hospitality. The funeral\nprocession is moving forward when Pheres, father of Admetus, enters to\npay his respects to the dead. His son with cold fury repels him: why did\nhe, an aged man, not consent to die, and so save Alcestis? A vigorous\nand coarse altercation follows. When all have gone the butler enters,\ncomplaining of Heracles\u2019 drunken feasting; the latter soon follows, and\nis quickly sobered by learning the truth. He proclaims his intention\nof rescuing Alcestis from Thanatos, and hurries away. Admetus returns\nfollowed by the chorus, expressing his utter grief and desolation.\nHeracles arrives with a veiled woman, whom he says he has won as a\nprize at some athletic contest; he must now depart to fulfil his next\n\u201clabour\u201d\u2014the capture of Diomedes\u2019 man-eating steeds\u2014and requests Admetus\nto take care of the woman till his return. The king reluctantly consents,\nand Heracles unveils her, whereupon Admetus recognizes his wife. She does\nnot speak, being (as Heracles explains) for three days yet subject to\nthe infernal deities.[413] The play ends with the joy of Admetus, a dry\nremark of Heracles on true hospitality, and a few lines[414] from the\nchorus expressing wonder at the mysterious ways of Heaven.\n\nThe Greek introductions to this play contain interesting criticisms:\n\u201cthe close of the drama is somewhat comic\u201d; \u201cthe drama is more or less\nsatyric, because it ends in joy and pleasure\u201d. These remarks, coupled\nwith the fact that the _Alcestis_ (as the last play of the tetralogy)\noccupied the place of the customary satyric drama, have caused much\ndiscussion. It is enough to say here: first, that the _Alcestis_ is in\nno sense a satyric play;[415] second, that it undoubtedly presents comic\nfeatures; third, that none the less the work belongs to the sphere of\ntragedy. It is sometimes difficult, and often undesirable, to label\ndramatic poems too definitely; but we must certainly avoid the impression\nthat this play is a comedy. It deals poignantly with the most solemn\ninterests of humanity; the comic scenes merely show, what is almost as\nobvious elsewhere, that Euripides imitates actual life more closely than\nhis two great rivals. Nothing is gained, however, by ignoring the comic\nelement. The altercation between Apollo and Thanatos contains much that\nsurprises us\u2014the wit[416] and the eager, wrangling, bargaining tone of\nthe dispute. Again the quarrel between Pheres and his son, admirable in\nits skilful revelation of character, jars terribly when enacted over the\nbody of Alcestis. Heracles\u2019 half-tipsy lecture to the slave shocks us in\na demigod about to wrestle with Death himself. But the whole situation\nas between Alcestis and Admetus, Admetus and Heracles, is handled with\ndignity and extraordinary pathos. The death scene, especially Admetus\u2019\ndespairing address to his wife; the even finer passage when the king\nreturns but shrinks from the cold aspect of his widowed house; the\nmagnificent and lovely odes, above all the song which describes the\nwild beasts of Othrys\u2019 side sporting to the music of Apollo\u2014these are\nthoroughly suited to tragedy.\n\nThe plot is apparently[417] quite simple, but one fact should be\nmentioned. The rescue of Alcestis is due directly to the drunkenness of\nHeracles. He is prevented from learning the facts in an ordinary way\nby Admetus; had he behaved normally, he would have left Pher\u00e6 still\nunenlightened, since Admetus has forbidden[418] his slave to speak. It is\nhis intoxication alone which goads the butler to explain.\n\nThe character-drawing is skilful, often subtle. Heracles, good-hearted\nbut somewhat dense, sensual and coarse-fibred, is half-way between\nthe demigod of the _Heracles Furens_ and the boisterous glutton of\ncomedy. Capable of splendid impulses, he is yet a masterpiece of breezy\ntactlessness, as when with hideous slyness he suggests to Admetus (in\nthe presence of the restored wife) that the king may console himself\nby a new marriage. Pheres and Admetus are an admirable pair. Both are\nselfish, Admetus with pathetic unconsciousness, his father with cynical\ncandour. Pheres is quite willing to give elaborate honour to the dead\nwoman so long as it costs little; Admetus\u2014is it true of him that he is\nready to utter splendid heroic speeches so long as the sacrifice is made\nto save him? Not so; he feels terribly. But the comparison between father\nand son reminds us how easily sentiment can become aged into etiquette.\nAt present, however, he is a man of generous instincts\u2014\u201cspoiled\u201d. He\nneeds a salutary upheaval of his home: from afar he prophesies of\nThorvald Helmer in _A Doll\u2019s House_. Alcestis herself is a curious study.\nInnumerable readers have extolled her as one of the noblest figures in\nEuripides\u2019 great gallery of heroines; this in spite of the fact that\nshe is frigid and unimaginative, ungenerous and basely narrow, in her\nspiritual and social outlook. One great and noble deed stands to her\ncredit\u2014she is voluntarily dying to preserve Admetus\u2019 life. Our profound\nrespect Alcestis can certainly claim, but the love and pity of which\nso much is said are scarcely due to her. They are extorted, if at all,\nby the elaborate exertions of the other characters, who vie with one\nanother in painting a picture of the tenderness which has illumined\nthe Pher\u00e6an palace like quiet sunshine. But a dramatist cannot build\nup a great character by a series of testimonies from friends. He has\nundoubtedly portrayed an interesting personality, as he always does,\nbut to put her beside creations like Medea and Ph\u00e6dra is merely absurd.\nFrom the beginning of her first intolerable speech[419] we know her for\nthat frightful figure, the thoroughly good woman with no imagination,\nno humour, no insight. One hears much of the failures of Euripides;\nthis is perhaps a real failure. For we are not to suppose that the\nrigidity and coldness of Alcestis are a dexterous stroke of art; it is\nnot his intention to give a novel, true, and unflattering portrait of a\ntraditional stage favourite, as he so often delighted to do. Everything\nindicates that he wished to make Alcestis sublime and lovable. But there\nis a fatal difference between her and the later women. Euripides has\nrealized her from the outside. He has given us in the mouths of the other\ncharacters warm descriptions of her charm, but he has not succeeded in\ndrawing a charming woman. She has not \u201ccome alive\u201d in his hands.\n\nThe plot of the _Alcestis_ has been studied by the late Dr. Verrall\nin an essay[420] of extraordinary skill and interest. He lays special\nemphasis on certain peculiar features in the treatment. First, Heracles\nis represented as in no way the sublime demigod who ought to have been\ndepicted, in view of the amazing exploit which awaits him; the only\nheroic language put into his mouth is uttered when he is intoxicated, and\nthe account\u2014if it can be called such\u2014which he gives later of Alcestis\u2019\ndeliverance shows a studied lack of impressiveness. Second, Alcestis is\ninterred with unheard-of speed; Admetus, seeing her expire, instantly\nmakes ready to convey her body to the tomb. From these facts in chief\nand from many details Dr. Verrall deduces his theory that Alcestis\nnever dies at all. Her expectation of death (founded on the story about\nApollo\u2019s bargain) and the atmosphere of mourning which hangs over\nAdmetus\u2019 house and capital on the fatal day, have so wrought upon the\nqueen that she finally swoons. Later Heracles visits the tomb, finds\nAlcestis recovering, and restores her to the king. His annoyance with\nAdmetus, which leads him to allow his host to \u201cthink what he pleases,\u201d\ncoupled with his own rodomontade at the palace gate, gave rise to the\nlegend that Heracles fought with Death for a woman who had actually\nquitted life. Finally, the quasi-theological prologue, in which Apollo\nand Thanatos appear and give warrant to the orthodox rendering of the\nstory, is a mere figment, revealed as such to the discreet by its utterly\nungodlike tone, and only tacked on to a quite human drama in order to\nsave the poet from legal indictment as an enemy of current theology.\n\nThis superb essay has met with wide-spread admiration, some adhesion,\nmuch opposition, but no refutation. If we are to judge of the existing\nplays as one mass, the examination of outstanding specimens of\nrationalism such as the _Ion_ will convince us that the _Alcestis_ is\nwhat Dr. Verrall thought it. But this play does stand apart from the\nrest, as do the _Rhesus_ and the _Cyclops_. However close it may lie to\nthe _Medea_ in date, it is very early in manner; a capital instance of\nthis, the character of Alcestis, has already been mentioned. The best\nview is, perhaps, that curious features which in other works might appear\nso bad as to be evidently intended for some other than the ostensible\npurpose, are in this case due to inexpertness.[421] For example, the\nextraordinary fact that Alcestis\u2019 rescue is due to nothing but the\ndrunkenness of Heracles, is perhaps a mere oversight on the poet\u2019s part.\nSimilarly the poorness of the last scene may be no cunning device, but\ncomparative poverty of inspiration. It is a tenable view that Euripides\nintended to write a quite orthodox treatment of the story, but has only\npartially succeeded in reaching the sureness and brilliance of his later\ncompositions.[422]\n\nThe MEDEA (\u039c\u03ae\u03b4\u03b5\u03b9\u03b1) was produced in 431 B.C. as the first play of a\ntetralogy containing also _Philoctetes_, _Dictys_, and the satyric play\n_The Harvesters_ (\u0398\u03b5\u03c1\u03b9\u03c3\u03c4\u03b1\u03af). Euripides obtained only the third prize,\nand even Sophocles was second to Euphorion, son of \u00c6schylus. The scene\nrepresents the house of Medea at Corinth. She has come there with her\ntwo young sons, and her husband Jason, whom she helped to gain the\nGolden Fleece in Colchis. Jason has become estranged from Medea, owing\nto his projected marriage with Glauce, the daughter of King Creon. At\nthis point the play opens. The aged nurse of Medea comes forth and, in\none of the most celebrated speeches in Euripides, laments her mistress\u2019\nflight from Colchis and her subsequent troubles; she fears that Medea\nwill seek revenge. The two boys return from play, attended by their old\n\u201cp\u00e6dagogus,\u201d who informs his fellow-servant that King Creon intends to\nbanish Medea and her children. The nurse sends them within. The chorus\nof Corinthian women enter and inquire after Medea, who comes from the\nhouse in the deepest distress. She speaks with deep feeling about the\nsorrows and restraints which society puts upon women,[423] and after\na pathetic description of her own forlorn state, begs her visitors\nto aid by silence if she finds any means of revenge. They have just\nconsented, when Creon appears and orders her to leave the land on the\ninstant, with her children. When she expostulates, he explains that he\nfears her: she is well known as a magician; moreover, she has uttered\nthreats against himself, his daughter, and Jason. Medea in vain seeks\nto escape her reputation for \u201cwisdom\u201d; in spite of her offer to live\nquietly in Corinth, Creon repeats his behest. By urgent pleading, she\nobtains from him one day\u2019s grace. When the king has departed, Medea\naddresses the chorus with fierce triumph: she now has opportunity for\nrevenge. After considering possible methods, she decides on poison.\nBut first, what refuge is she to find when her plot has succeeded? she\nwill wait a little, and if no chance of safe retirement shows itself,\nshe will attack her foes sword in hand. The chorus, impressed by her\nspirit, declare that after all the centuries during which poets have\ncovered women with infamy, now at last honour is coming to their sex.\nThey lament the decay of truth and honour, as shown in Jason\u2019s desertion.\nJason enters, reproaching Medea for her folly in alienating the king,\nbut offering help to lighten her banishment. Medea falls upon him in\na terrible speech, relating all the benefits she has conferred and\nthe crime she has committed in his cause. Jason replies that it was\nthe Love-God which constrained her to help him, nor is he ungrateful.\nBut she has her reward\u2014a reputation among the Greeks for wisdom. He\nis contracting this new marriage to provide for his children; Medea\u2019s\ncomplaints are due to short-sighted jealousy. After a bitter debate, in\nwhich Medea scornfully refuses his aid, he retires. The chorus sing the\ndread power of Love, and lament the wreck which it has made of Medea\u2019s\nlife. A stranger enters\u2014\u00c6geus, King of Athens, who has been to Delphi for\nan oracle which shall remove his childlessness. Medea begs him to give\nher shelter in Athens whenever she comes thither from Corinth; in return\nfor this, she will by her art remove his childlessness. He consents, and\nwithdraws. Sure of her future, Medea now triumphantly expounds her plan.\nShe will make a pretended reconciliation with Jason and beg that her\nchildren be allowed to remain. They are to seek Jason\u2019s bride, bearing\npresents in order to win this favour. These gifts will be poisoned;\nthe princess and all who touch her will perish. Then she will slay her\nchildren to complete the misery of Jason. The chorus in vain protest;\nshe turns from them and despatches a slave to summon Jason. The choric\node which follows extols, in lines of amazing loveliness, the glory of\nAttica\u2014its atmosphere of wisdom, poetry, and love. But how shall such a\nland harbour a murderess? Jason returns, and is greeted by Medea with\na speech of contrition by which he is entirely deceived. She calls her\nchildren forth, and there is a pathetic scene which affects her, for\nall her guilty purpose, with genuine emotion. She puts her pretended\nplan before Jason, and watches the father depart with the two boys and\ntheir p\u00e6dagogus carrying the presents. The ode which follows laments the\nfatal step that has now been taken. The p\u00e6dagogus brings the boys back\nwith news that their sentence of exile has been remitted, and that the\nprincess has accepted the gifts. Medea addresses herself to the next\ntask. Now that her plot against Glauce is in train, the children must\ndie. The famous soliloquy which follows exhibits the sway alternately\nexerted over her by maternal love and the thirst for revenge; after\na dreadful struggle she determines to obey her \u201cpassion\u201d and embrace\nvengeance. The children are sent within. The next ode is a most painfully\nreal and intimate revelation of a parent\u2019s anxiety and sorrows. A\nmessenger hurries up, crying to Medea that she must flee; Creon and his\ndaughter are both dead. Medea greets his news with cool delight, braces\nherself for her last deed, and enters the house. The chorus utter a\ndesperate prayer to the Sun-god to save his descendants; but at once\nthe children\u2019s cries are heard. Scarcely have they died away when Jason\nfuriously enters, followed by henchmen. His chief thought is to save his\nchildren from the vengeance of Creon\u2019s kinsmen. The chorus at once tell\nhim they are dead, and how. In frenzy he flings himself upon the door.\nBut he suddenly recoils as the voice of Medea, clear and contemptuous,\ndescends from the air. She is seen on high, driving a magic chariot given\nto her by the Sun-god. There breaks out a frightful wounding altercation,\nJason begging wildly to be allowed to see and to bury his children\u2019s\nbodies, Medea sternly refusing; she will herself bury them beyond the\nborders of Corinth. She departs through the air, leaving Jason utterly\nbroken.\n\nThe literary history of this play is extremely interesting, though\nobscure. First, is it later, or earlier, than the _Trachini\u00e6_? One\ngeneral idea is common to the two tragedies; but the treatment is utterly\ndissimilar, and one may not unreasonably believe that Sophocles has\nsought to reprove Euripides, to paint his own conception of a noble\nwronged wife, and to show how a woman so placed should demean herself.\nSecondly, there is some reason[424] to believe that two editions of\nthe _Medea_ where for a time in existence. Euripides almost certainly\nhimself remodelled the work, presumably for a second \u201cproduction,\u201d but\nto what extent it is hard to say. Thirdly, and above all, there is the\nquestion of his originality. The longer Greek \u201cargument\u201d asserts that he\nappears to have borrowed the drama from Neophron and to have introduced\nalterations. This interesting problem has been discussed elsewhere.[425]\nNeophron\u2019s play, if one is to judge by the style and versification of his\nbrief fragments, should be regarded as written early in the second half\nof the fifth century.\n\nThe dramatic structure of the _Medea_ calls for the closest attention.\nIn Sophocles we have observed how that collision of wills and emotions,\nwhich is always the soul of drama, arises from the confrontation of two\npersons. In the present drama that collision takes place in the bosom of\na single person. Sophocles would probably have given us a Jason whose\nclaim upon our sympathy was hardly less than that of Medea. Complication,\nwith him, is to be found in his plots, not in his characters. But here\nwe have a subject which has since proved so rich a mine of tragic and\nromantic interest\u2014the study of a soul divided against itself. Medea\u2019s\nwrongs, her passionate resentment, and her plans of revenge do not merely\ndominate the play, they _are_ the play from the first line to the close.\nCertain real or alleged structural defects should be noted. First, we\nobserve the incredible part taken by the chorus; they raise not a finger\nto stay the designs of Medea upon the king and his daughter; and we are\ngiven no reason to suppose that they are unfriendly to the royal house.\nThe episode of \u00c6geus, moreover, is puzzling. Though quite necessary in\nview of Medea\u2019s helpless condition and prepared for by her remarks as to\na \u201ctower of refuge,\u201d[426] it is quite unneeded by one who can command\na magic flying chariot. Moreover, this chariot itself has been often\ncensured, notably by Aristotle,[427] who regards it as to all intents and\npurposes a _deus ex machina_, and on this ground very properly objects to\nit.\n\nDr. Verrall\u2019s[428] theory meets all these difficulties. He supposes\nthat several of Euripides\u2019 plays were originally written for private\nperformance. The _Medea_, so acted, had no obtrusive chorus, and no\nmiraculous escape of the murderess. To the episode of \u00c6geus corresponded\na _finale_ in which Medea, by allowing her husband to bury the bodies of\nhis children, and by instituting the religious rites referred to in our\npresent text,[429] induced both Jason and the Corinthians to allow her\nsafe passage to Athens. This view, or a view essentially resembling it,\nmust be accepted, not so much because of the absurdity involved (as it\nappears to us) by the presence of the chorus, as the utter futility of\nthe \u00c6geus-scene in the present state of the text.\n\nThe characterization shows Euripides at his best. In the heroine he\ngives us the first and possibly the finest of his marvellous studies in\nfeminine human nature. Alcestis he viewed and described from without;\nMedea he has imagined from within. Her passionate love, which is so\neasily perverted by brutality into murderous hate, her pride, will-power,\nferocity, and d\u00e6monic energy, are all depicted with flawless mastery and\nsympathy. Desperate and cruel as this woman shows herself, she is no\ncold-blooded plotter. Creon has heard of her unguarded threats, and his\nknowledge wellnigh ruins her project. Her first words to Jason, \u201cthou\nutter villain,\u201d followed by a complete and appalling indictment of his\ncynicism[430] and ingratitude, are not calculated to lull suspicion. But\nhowever passionate, she owns a splendid intellect. She faces facts[431]\nand understands her weaknesses. When seeking an advantage, she can hold\nherself magnificently in hand. The pretended reconciliation with Jason is\na scene of weird thrill for the spectators. Her archness in discussing\nhis influence over the young princess is almost hideous; and while she\nweeps in his arms we remember with sick horror her scornful words after\npractising successfully the same arts on the king. Above all, there\nis here no petulant railing at \u201cunjust gods,\u201d or \u201cblind fate\u201d. Her\nundoing in the past has come from \u201ctrust in the words of a man that is a\nGreek\u201d;[432] her present murderous rage springs from no _At\u00e9_ but from\nher own passion (\u03b8\u03c5\u03bc\u03cc\u03c2). The dramatist has set himself to express human\nlife in terms of humanity.\n\nJason is a superb study\u2014a compound of brilliant manner, stupidity, and\ncynicism. If only his own desires, interests, and comforts are safe,\nhe is prepared to confer all kinds of benefits. The kindly, breezy\nwords which he addresses to his little sons must have made hundreds of\nexcellent fathers in the audience feel for a moment a touch of personal\nbaseness\u2014\u201cam I not something like this?\u201d That is the moral of Jason and\ncountless personages of Euripides: they are so detestable and yet so like\nourselves. Jason indeed dupes himself as well as others. He really thinks\nhe is kind and gentle, when he is only surrendering to an emotional\natmosphere. His great weakness is the mere perfection of his own egotism;\nhe has no power at all to realize another\u2019s point of view. Throughout\nthe play he simply refuses to believe that Medea feels his desertion\nas she asserts. For him her complaints are \u201cempty words\u201d.[433] To the\nvery end his self-centred stupidity is almost pathetic: \u201cdidst thou _in\ntruth_ determine on their death for the sake of wifely honour?\u201d[434] One\nof the most deadly things in the play hangs on this blindness. Medea has\njust asked him, with whatever smile she can summon up, to induce \u201cyour\nwife\u201d to procure pardon for the children. Jason, instead of destroying\nhimself on the spot in self-contempt, replies courteously: \u201cBy all\nmeans; and I imagine that I shall persuade her, _if she is like the rest\nof women_\u201d.[435] Considering all the circumstances, this is perhaps\nunsurpassed for shameless brutality. Medea, however, with a gleam in her\neye which one may imagine, answers with equal urbanity, even with quiet\nraillery. She has perhaps no reason to complain; it is precisely this\nportentous insensibility which will secure her success.\n\nThe minor characters are, in their degree, excellently drawn\u2014Creon above\nall. His short scene is unforgettable; it is that familiar sight\u2014a weak\nman encouraging himself to firmness by exaggerating his own severity.\nHis delicious little grumble, \u201cmy chivalrous instincts have got me into\ntrouble more often than I like to think of,\u201d[436] stamps him as the peer\nof Dogberry and Justice Shallow.\n\nAs a piece of Greek, the _Medea_ is perhaps the finest work of Euripides.\nThe iambics have a simple brilliance and flexible ease which had been\nunknown hitherto, and which indeed were never rivalled afterwards. Such\nthings as\n\n    \u03c3\u1f7a \u03b3\u1f70\u03c1 \u03c4\u03af \u03bc\u2019 \u1f20\u03b4\u03af\u03ba\u03b7\u03ba\u03b1\u03c2; \u1f10\u03be\u03ad\u03b4\u03bf\u03c5 \u03ba\u03cc\u03c1\u03b7\u03bd\n    \u1f45\u03c4\u1ff3 \u03c3\u03b5 \u03b8\u03c5\u03bc\u1f78\u03c2 \u1f26\u03b3\u03b5\u03bd,[437]\n\nin Medea\u2019s appeal to Creon, or Jason\u2019s rebuke to her:\n\n    \u03c0\u1fb6\u03bd \u03ba\u03ad\u03c1\u03b4\u03bf\u03c2 \u1f21\u03b3\u03bf\u1fe6 \u03b6\u03b7\u03bc\u03b9\u03bf\u03c5\u03bc\u03ad\u03bd\u03b7 \u03c6\u03c5\u03b3\u1fc7,[438]\n\nor the expression of her \u201cmelting mood\u201d:\n\n    \u1f14\u03c4\u03b9\u03ba\u03c4\u03bf\u03bd \u03b1\u1f50\u03c4\u03bf\u03cd\u03c2\u00b7 \u03b6\u1fc6\u03bd \u03b4\u2019 \u1f45\u03c4\u2019 \u1f10\u03be\u03b7\u03cd\u03c7\u03bf\u03c5 \u03c4\u03ad\u03ba\u03bd\u03b1,\n    \u03b5\u1f30\u03c3\u1fc6\u03bb\u03b8\u03ad \u03bc\u2019 \u03bf\u1f36\u03ba\u03c4\u03bf\u03c2 \u03b5\u1f30 \u03b3\u03b5\u03bd\u03ae\u03c3\u03b5\u03c4\u03b1\u03b9 \u03c4\u03ac\u03b4\u03b5,[439]\n\nare in their unobtrusive way masterpieces of language. But it is in\nvain to quote specimens; the whole work is as novel and as great in\nlinguistic skill as in dramatic art. In particular the speeches of the\nnurse at the opening, of Medea when rebuking and again when conciliating\nJason\u2014above all, her fearful soliloquy and address to her children, touch\nthe summit of dramatic eloquence. The lyric passages are on the whole\nless remarkable, but the mystic loveliness of the ode[440] celebrating\nthe glories of Attica, and the anap\u00e6sts[441] which give so haunting an\nexpression to a parent\u2019s yearning over his children, are among the most\nprecious things this tender as well as terrible poet has bequeathed to\nus.\n\nThe HERACLEID\u00c6[442] (\u1f29\u03c1\u03b1\u03ba\u03bb\u03b5\u1fd6\u03b4\u03b1\u03b9) or _Children of Heracles_, is a\nshort[443] play of uncertain date, usually referred to the early years of\nthe Peloponnesian War (431-404) and by some to the date 422 B.C. Nothing\nis known as to the companion plays, or the success obtained by the\ntetralogy.\n\nThe scene is laid before the temple of Zeus at Marathon in Attica.\nThe young sons of Heracles are discovered with the aged Iolaus, their\nfather\u2019s comrade, who explains how, after Heracles departed to Heaven,\nEurystheus of Argos has hunted the hero\u2019s family through Greece. They\nhave taken refuge in Attica; Alcmena, mother of Heracles, and the\ndaughters are now within the temple; Hyllus, the eldest son, has gone to\nseek another refuge in case Athens fails them. Copreus,[444] a herald\nfrom Argos, enters and is dragging the suppliants away when the chorus\nof aged Athenians enter. Copreus disregards their remonstrances, but is\nconfronted by the king, Demophon, and his brother Acamas. He insists\nthat the Heracleid\u00e6 are Argive subjects: let not Demophon risk war with\nArgos. Iolaus appeals for protection, and is granted it; Copreus retires\nwith threats of instant war. After an ode of defiance by the chorus,\nDemophon returns with news that a noble virgin must be sacrificed to\nPersephone, and he will not slay an Athenian girl. Iolaus is in despair,\nwhen Macaria, one of Heracles\u2019 daughters, comes forth and offers herself.\nAfter a proud but melancholy farewell she goes. A serf of Hyllus arrives,\nbringing, he says, good news. At this Iolaus joyfully summons Alcmena,\nwho imagines that another herald is assaulting him; but he announces\nthat Hyllus has returned with a large host of allies. Iolaus, despite\nthe serf\u2019s rueful gibes, insists on going to the fray and, dressed\nin ancient arms from the temple, totters off. The chorus proclaim the\njustice of their cause, invoking Zeus and Athena. The attendant returns\nwith news of complete victory. Iolaus was taken into Hyllus\u2019 chariot and\nbeing (by favour of Heracles and Hebe) miraculously restored for a while\nto his youthful vigour, captured Eurystheus. The chorus celebrate the\nglory of Athens and acclaim Heracles, who is now proved (despite report)\nto be dwelling in Heaven. Eurystheus is led in and Alcmena gloats over\nhim, promising him death. The messenger intervenes: Athenians do not kill\nprisoners. She insists. Then Eurystheus breaks silence: it was Hera who\nforced him to these persecutions, and if he is now slain in cold blood,\na curse will fall on the slayer. The chorus at length accept Alcmena\u2019s\nevasion that he be killed and his corpse be given to his friends.\nEurystheus presents Athens with an oracle which declares that his spirit\nshall be hostile to the Heracleid\u00e6, when, forgetting this kindness, they\ninvade Attica.[445] Alcmena bids her attendants convey Eurystheus within\nand destroy him. The chorus[446] briefly express satisfaction at being\nfree from this guilt, and the play ends.\n\nThe _Heracleid\u00e6_ is one of the least popular[447] among Euripides\u2019 works.\nIt has indeed unmistakable beauties. The heroic daughter of Heracles and\nher proud insistence on no rivalry in her sacrifice have always moved\nadmiration. The Greek style, moreover, though not equal to that of the\n_Medea_, has all the Euripidean limpidity and ease. Such lines as\n\n    \u03c4\u03af\u03c2 \u03b4\u2019 \u03b5\u1f36 \u03c3\u03cd; \u03c0\u03bf\u1fe6 \u03c3\u03bf\u03b9 \u03c3\u03c5\u03bd\u03c4\u03c5\u03c7\u1f7c\u03bd \u1f00\u03bc\u03bd\u03b7\u03bc\u03bf\u03bd\u1ff6;[448]\n\nin Iolaus\u2019 conversations with Hyllus\u2019 thrall, and the lyric phrase\n\n    \u1f01 \u03b4\u2019 \u1f00\u03c1\u03b5\u03c4\u1f70 \u03b2\u03b1\u03af\u03bd\u03b5\u03b9 \u03b4\u03b9\u1f70 \u03bc\u03cc\u03c7\u03b8\u03c9\u03bd[449]\n\nhaunt the ear. Moreover, the chivalry with which Demophon and his\ncitizens champion the helpless must have stirred Athenian hearts. But\nour pleasure is repeatedly checked by incidents grotesque, horrible, or\ninexplicable. To the first category belongs the absurd scene in which\nIolaus totters away amid badinage to do battle with Argos. There is a\ncomic note, again, in the scene where Alcmena for the first time appears\nand supposes that Hyllus\u2019 messenger is another hostile herald from Argos.\nAs we know who he is, her attack on him shows that painful mixture of the\npathetic and the ludicrous which so often marks Euripides\u2019 work; here\nthe comic prevails over the touching. Secondly, the interview in which\nEurystheus is presented to Alcmena, who gloats at her ease over him,\nis horrible, however natural. And finally the inexplicable or at least\npuzzling features are perhaps the most striking of all.\n\nThe first difficulty concerns the personality which forms the background\nof the whole; the apotheosis of Heracles is treated in equivocal fashion\nthroughout. Iolaus[450] alone seems entirely convinced. Alcmena, after\nnews of the victory to which her son has given miraculous aid, utters the\ncandid words:\u2014[451]\n\n    After long years, O Zeus, my woes have touched thee,\n    Yet take my thanks for all that hath been wrought.\n    My son\u2014though erstwhile I refused belief\u2014\n    I know in truth doth dwell amid the gods.\n\nAnd her faith is echoed in less prosaic language[452] by the chorus, who\nproclaim the falsehood of the story that Heracles after his passing by\nfire went down to the abode of Hades; in truth he dwells in Heaven and in\nthe golden court lives as the spouse of Hebe. But these confessions are\ndue to the marvels on the battle-field, marvels upon which the narrator\nhimself takes pains to throw grave doubt.[453] Macaria, though she has\nevery reason[454] to dilate on the glories of her father, speaks of\nhim but briefly and with only the normal filial respect.[455] Of the\nothers, Copreus ignores him; from the man\u2019s character we expect sneers\nand refutations of the miraculous stories such as are put by our poet\nin the mouth of Lycus.[456] Eurystheus speaks of him generously, but\nin terms which imply that he has never heard, much less accepted, the\nmarvellous accounts of his enemy: \u201cI knew thy son was no mere cypher, but\nin good sooth a man; for even though he was mine enemy, yet will I speak\nwell of him, that man of worth\u201d.[457] Demophon himself, the champion\nof Heracles\u2019 children, even when he has been reminded (by Iolaus) how\nthe hero rescued Theseus, father of Demophon, from Hades itself, in his\nreply treats this overwhelming claim ambiguously and with nothing more\nthan politeness.[458] All this seems to show the dramatist\u2019s belief that\nHeracles was simply a \u201cnoble man\u201d\u2014an \u1f10\u03c3\u03b8\u03bb\u1f78\u03c2 \u1f00\u03bd\u03ae\u03c1\u2014whose divine traits are\nthe offspring of minds like those of Iolaus and Alcmena, whose sagacity\nthroughout the drama is painfully low.\n\nMacaria\u2019s fate, also, at first sight causes perplexity. After she leaves\nthe scene, nothing[459] more is heard of her. When and where she dies\nwe are not told; the promise[460] of Iolaus that she shall be honoured\nby him in death, as in life, above all women, produces no effect\u2014for\nwe are told nothing about her burial; whether the advent of Hyllus\u2019\nreinforcements should or does make any difference to the necessity for\nthe sacrifice is not discussed. But there is good reason to suppose that\na whole episode, on Macaria\u2019s death, has been lost.\n\nThe army of Hyllus is the most astonishing feature in the play. All the\naction and all the pathos depend upon the helplessness which involves\nthe Heracleid\u00e6. Every other city has rejected them; if Athens fails all\nis lost\u2014so we are told repeatedly.[461] Yet at the last moment Hyllus\nreturns with a positive army. Whence has it come? How can Iolaus have\nbeen ignorant that such aid was possible? We are told nothing. The\nAthenian leaders apparently, Iolaus and Alcmena[462] certainly, receive\nthese incredible tidings with no feeling save placid satisfaction.\n\nFinally, if this drama is composed in order to extol the nobility of\nAthens in espousing the cause of the weak, it is extraordinary that so\ndubious an example should be selected. The suppliants are ancestors of\nthose very Spartans who, when the drama was produced, were the bitter and\ndangerous enemies of Athens. Was not her ancient kindness in saving the\nfirst generation of these foes a piece of folly? Eurystheus points this\nmoral at the close.[463] Alcmena herself, in her cold ferocity[464] and\nher quibbling[465] over the dues of piety, is a clear prophecy of what\nfifth-century Athenians most detested in the Spartan character. Moreover,\nthe plea of Copreus is perfectly just: Argos has a right to punish her\nown people if condemned; whether they were wrongly so condemned is no\nconcern of Athens.\n\nThe upshot seems to be that Eurystheus has a bitter quarrel with a\npowerful noble, so bitter that when his enemy dies the king dares not\nleave his children at large. Through the sentimental weakness of her\nruler Athens is drawn into the dispute, and history shows that she made a\nfrightful mistake.\n\nThe HIPPOLYTUS[466] (\u1f39\u03c0\u03c0\u03cc\u03bb\u03c5\u03c4\u03bf\u03c2 \u03a3\u03c4\u03b5\u03c6\u03b1\u03bd\u03af\u03b1\u03c2[467] or \u03a3\u03c4\u03b5\u03c6\u03b1\u03bd\u03b7\u03c6\u03cc\u03c1\u03bf\u03c2) was\nproduced in 428 B.C. and obtained the first prize. The scene is laid in\nTr\u0153zen before a house belonging to Theseus, King of Athens. Aphrodite,\nthe goddess of love, speaks the prologue, explaining how Hippolytus,\nson of Theseus, scorns her and consorts always with Artemis, the virgin\nhuntress-deity. Aphrodite therefore has caused Ph\u00e6dra, the wife of\nTheseus, to fall in love with her stepson. The king in his wrath shall\nbring about the death of his son. The prince enters followed by his\nhuntsmen, and turning to the statue of Artemis with a beautiful prayer\nplaces garlands upon it, but disregards the image of Aphrodite. After\nthe hunters have entered the palace, the chorus of Tr\u0153zenian women come\nto inquire after the ailing Ph\u00e6dra. She is borne forth, attended by\nher nurse, who seeks to calm the feverishness of her mistress and her\npassionate longing for the wild regions of the chase. She gradually\nlearns that the queen is consumed by passion for Hippolytus. Ph\u00e6dra,\nnow quite calm, describes her fight with temptation; when she saw that\nvictory was impossible she chose death, and for this reason has refused\nfood. The nurse offers very different counsel. Why should Ph\u00e6dra strive\nagainst her instincts? Even the gods have erred through love; she will\ncure her mistress. The remedy, she soon hints, is nothing but surrender.\nAt this Ph\u00e6dra is so indignant that the other again takes refuge in\nambiguity; she retires to fetch certain charms. The ode which follows\nproclaims the irresistible sway of love. The queen, in the meantime, has\nbeen standing near the palace-door and now recoils in horror\u2014she has\nheard Hippolytus reviling the nurse; nothing, she cries, is now left to\nher but speedy death. Hippolytus enters in fury, followed by the nurse.\nAfter an altercation in which he threatens to break his oath of secrecy,\nhe breaks forth into a lengthy and bitter tirade against women, but\nfinally promises to keep his oath. When the prince has retired Ph\u00e6dra\nproclaims her resolve to avoid shame for her family and herself by death,\nobtaining from the chorus a promise not to divulge what has occurred; at\nthe same time she obscurely threatens Hippolytus. After she has gone,\nthe chorus voice their yearning to be free from this world of sin and\nwoe; surely this trouble is a curse brought by Ph\u00e6dra from her house\nin Crete, a curse which is even now forcing her neck into the noose. A\nmessenger rushes forth crying out that the queen has hanged herself.\nTheseus returns home and is speedily apprised of his loss. Suddenly\nhe sees a letter clutched in his dead wife\u2019s hand; on reading it he\nannounces in fury that Hippolytus has violated his connubial rights. He\nappeals to his father Poseidon, god of the sea, who has promised to grant\nhim any three prayers, to destroy Hippolytus. The prince returns, and\nTheseus, after a stinging attack on his son\u2019s pretensions, banishes him.\nHippolytus is prevented by his oath from defending himself effectually,\nand sorrowfully turns away. The chorus ponder upon the mysterious ways\nof Heaven and lament the downfall of the brilliant prince. One of\nHippolytus\u2019 attendants returns and informs Theseus that his son is on\nthe point of death. A gigantic bull, sent by Poseidon out of the sea,\nterrified Hippolytus\u2019 horses, which bolted and mangled their master.\nTheseus receives these tidings with grim satisfaction, but the goddess\nArtemis appears and reveals all the facts. Theseus is utterly prostrated.\nHippolytus is carried in, lamenting his agony and unmerited fate. Artemis\nconverses with him affectionately and there follows between the two men a\nfew words lamenting the curse fulfilled by Poseidon. Artemis consoles her\nfavourite and disappears. Hippolytus gives his father full forgiveness,\nand dies in his embrace.\n\nThe main impression left by a repeated study of this magnificent\ndrama is a sense of the loveliness and delight which the transfusing\ngenius of a poet can throw around the ruin worked by blind instinct\nand hate, even around a whole world tortured by belief in gods whose\nsupreme intelligence, will, and power, are quick to punish, but never\npardon. No poem in the world conveys more pungently the aroma of\nlife\u2019s inextinguishable beauty and preciousness. Life does not become\nugly because full of sin or pain. It can only become ugly by growing\nunintelligible. So long as it can be understood, it remains to man, whose\njoys are all founded upon perception, a thing that can be loved; this is\nthe one and sufficient reason why tragic drama is beautiful.\n\nFor the writer of the _Hippolytus_, then, life is something profoundly\nsorrowful yet profoundly dear. Hippolytus\u2019 address to Artemis on his\nreturn from the chase is compact of that mystic loveliness which fills\nremote glades with a visible presentment of the beauty of holiness:\u2014\n\n    For thee, my Queen, this garland have I twined\n    Of blossoms from that meadow virginal,\n    Where neither shepherd dares to graze his flock,\n    Nor hath the scythe made entry: yet the bee\n    Doth haunt the mead, that voyager of spring,\n    \u2019Mid Nature\u2019s shyest charm of stream and verdure.\n    There may no base man enter; only he,\n    Who, taught by instinct, uninstructed else,\n    Hath taken Virtue for his star of life,\n    May pluck the flow\u2019rets of that pleasance pure.\n    Come, Queen belov\u00e8d, for thy shining hair\n    Accept this wreath from hands of innocence!\n    To me alone of all mankind is given\n    Converse to hold and company with thee,\n    Hearing thy voice, although thy face be hid.\n    To the end of life, as now, may I be thine![468]\n\nThis passion for natural beauty as the background of emotional life\nrecurs throughout. The Tr\u0153zenian women as they enter tell of their\ninformant\u2014not \u201csome one talking near the place where men play draughts,\u201d\nas in the _Medea_, but a woman in a picture:\u2014\n\n                            Where waters leap,\n    Waters that flow (men say) from the far-off western sea,\n                            Down the rock-face,\n                            And gush from the steep\n                            To a deep place\n    Where pitchers may dip far down\u2014thence hath come a message to me.[469]\n\nPh\u00e6dra in her delirium sees visions of unfettered life \u201cbeneath the\npoplars, amid the deep grass,\u201d she fancies herself cheering on the\nhunting hounds through the pine-glades, and yearns to feel in her grasp\n\u201cthe iron-pointed shaft\u201d\u2014words to which we come back with deeper pain\nwhen in almost the same language Hippolytus, now himself delirious, longs\nto let out his tortured life with a \u201ctwo-edged spear\u201d.[470] When she\nenters the house to seek death, the chorus pour forth their yearning for\nescape from the sin and sorrow of this life to romantic regions where all\nis grace and unstained peace:\u2014[471]\n\n    In yon precipice-face might I hide me from sorrow,\n        And God, in his love, of the air make me free!\n    Ah, to speed with the sea-gulls\u2014alight on the morrow\n        Where Eridanus mingles his waves with the sea!\n    There for ever the sisters of Phaethon languish,\n        For grief of his fate bowing hush\u2019d o\u2019er the stream;\n    Like eyes in the gloaming, the tears of their anguish\n        Up through the dark water as amber-drops gleam.\n    Or far let me wing to the f\u00e4ery beaches\n        Where the Maids of the Sunset \u2019neath apple-boughs dance,\n    And the Lord of the Waters his last purple reaches\n        Hath closed to the mariner\u2019s restless advance;\n    Where from Atlas the sky arches down to the streaming\n        Of the sea, and the spring of Eternity flows\n    Where the mansion of Zeus on earth\u2019s bosom is dreaming\n        \u2019Mid life like a lily and bliss like a rose.\n\nTheseus himself expresses this sense of the fragile beauty of life in\nlines[472] which recall the unearthly charm of Sophocles:\u2014\n\n    \u1f44\u03c1\u03bd\u03b9\u03c2 \u03b3\u1f70\u03c1 \u1f65\u03c2 \u03c4\u03b9\u03c2 \u1f10\u03ba \u03c7\u03b5\u03c1\u1ff6\u03bd \u1f04\u03c6\u03b1\u03bd\u03c4\u03bf\u03c2 \u03b5\u1f36,\n    \u03c0\u03ae\u03b4\u03b7\u03bc\u2019 \u1f10\u03c2 \u0391\u1f35\u03b4\u03bf\u03c5 \u03ba\u03c1\u03b1\u03b9\u03c0\u03bd\u1f78\u03bd \u1f41\u03c1\u03bc\u03ae\u03c3\u03b1\u03c3\u03ac \u03bc\u03bf\u03b9.\n\nEven Artemis the unloving can tell of life\u2019s charm surviving death itself\nin some wise, an immortality of beautiful remembrance.[473] Throughout,\nthe poet has used all his power to invest the theme with loveliness of\nphrasing. Elsewhere, skilful as his writing is, he often gives us what is\npractically prose; the _Hippolytus_ is his nearest approach to the manner\nof Sophocles.\n\nNor is the likeness confined to verbal expression. The theology is,\nor claims to be, the theology of Sophocles. The traditional Olympians\nare accepted as persons, with the powers and purposes which current\nbelief attributed to them. This is the view which Sophocles accepts and\nexpounds. Euripides who certainly did not accept it, here expounds it\u2014in\nhis own way and with deadly results. Many times Euripides questions the\nvery existence of these deities, but now he sees fit to accept them for\na moment, and depicts life as lived under such rulers. Men and women can\nfeel and recreate the beauty of this world, but these gods time and again\ndash all into pitiful fragments. \u201cThe world is ruled by stupid fiends,\nwho spend eternity thwarting one another. Do we dwell in a universe or a\ngrinning chaos?\u201d\n\nIs this all? Very far from it. Almost all the action of the tragedy could\nbe accounted for\u2014had we not this disconcerting divine explanation\u2014on\npurely \u201chuman\u201d lines, though what \u201chuman\u201d means is, as the poet plainly\nperceives, no less difficult a question than that of theology. But\nat least the sorrows of Tr\u0153zen scarcely need the baneful _persons_\nof Olympus. For the three sufferers are, after all, not blameless.\nThey share that casual sinfulness\u2014for we cannot avoid the use of\nquestion-begging words\u2014which is the lot of man. Hippolytus errs (in Greek\neyes) by his complete aversion from sexual passion; he errs in all eyes\nby the arrogance with which he proclaims it. His famous speech[474] is\ntoo long for a spontaneous burst of resentment; it becomes a frigid\npiece of self-glorification. It is precisely this arrogance which stings\nPh\u00e6dra to the thought of revenge.[475] Theseus, in spite of the pathetic\nblindness with which he imputes[476] his misery to some ancestor\u2019s sin,\nis the original cause of it. Hippolytus is the offspring of his youthful\nincontinence.[477] Then, when he has \u201csettled down,\u201d it is precisely his\nrespectable marriage which brings the consequence of his early amour to\nfruition; his son and his young wife are of nearly the same age. As for\nPh\u00e6dra herself, the passion which she feels need not be attributed to a\npersonal goddess. Lawlessness is in her veins; her mother and sister have\nboth sinned:[478] Crete, \u201cthe Isle of Awful Love,\u201d[479] brands its name\nupon line after line of the play. For this predisposition to unchastity\nmany of Euripides\u2019 contemporaries, as of our own, would have blamed\nher heartily. The poet himself does not, as his splendidly sympathetic\ntreatment of her shows; but neither does he feel any need to lay the\nblame upon Aphrodite. Ph\u00e6dra\u2019s offence, her contribution to disaster,\nlies in her early toying with her passion, when she founded a shrine of\nthe love-goddess in Hippolytus\u2019 name;[480] in her accompanying Theseus\n(apparently without a struggle) to Tr\u0153zen and the society of the prince;\nin her determination to punish Hippolytus for his bitter pride.\n\nTo banish \u201cthe gods\u201d and attribute sin to \u201cheredity,\u201d is that not merely\nto substitute one word for another? Yes, but the poet herein has his\neye fixed on formal theology. Well aware that the glib invocation of\n\u201cheredity\u201d or \u201cenvironment\u201d is no more conclusive than \u201cthe will of the\ngods,\u201d he yet insists that sin is a matter of psychology. We must study\nhuman nature if we mean to understand and conquer sin. If we regard\nAphrodite or Artemis as _persons_ external to ourselves and of superhuman\npower we lose all hope of moral improvement in our own hearts. But if we\naccept these devastating powers as forces in human nature, we may hope by\nstudy and self-discipline in some degree to control them.\n\nThus the drama is full of subtly wise psychology: it is an interesting\ncomment on much that has been written about \u201crealist\u201d play-writing that\nthe _Hippolytus_, which contains some of the most romantic poetry in\nGreek literature, is also as sincere and profound in characterization\nas the work of Ibsen himself. Theseus and his son we have already\nconsidered; Ph\u00e6dra and her nurse require deeper study. The latter is a\nmasterpiece among the \u201cminor\u201d characters of Euripides. Her tenderness\nfor the young queen and passionate desire at all costs to win her\npeace; the dignity which life and its contemplation can give even to\ncoarse-fibred[481] natures; her feeling for the deepest pathos of\nlife\u2014these things constitute a great dramatic figure. It is to her that\nthe poet gives his most poignant expression of that mingled pain and\nbeauty which we discussed a moment ago:\u2014\n\n    But if any far-off state there be,\n    Dearer than life to mortality;\n    The hand of the Dark hath hold thereof,\n    And mist is under and mist above,\n    And so we are sick for life and cling\n    On earth to this nameless and shining thing.\n    For other life is a fountain sealed,\n    And the deeps below us are unrevealed,\n    And we drift on legends for ever![482]\n\nShe, too, it is who in words[483] of almost equal beauty urges Ph\u00e6dra to\nyield to her passion:\u2014\n\n    Thy love\u2014why marvel thereat? \u2019Tis the tale\n    Of many. Wouldst thou lose thy life for love?\n    Good sooth! A guerdon strange, if lovers now\n    And evermore must meet such penalty!\n    Who shall withstand the Cyprian\u2019s rising flood?\n    Yield to her spell: she comes in gentleness;\n    Make high thy pride and stand on niceties,\n    She flings thee pell-mell into ignominy.\n    Amid the sky she walks, amid the surge\n    Of the sea-billows. All things live from her.\n    The seed is hers and hers the yearning throe\n    Whence spring we all that tread the ways of earth\n    Ask them that con the half-forgotten seers\n    Of elder time, and serve the Muse themselves.\n    They knew how Zeus once pined for Semele,\n    How for love\u2019s sake the Goddess of the Dawn\n    Stooped from her radiant sphere to Cephalus\n    And stole him to the sky. Yet these abide\n    In Heaven, nor shun the converse of the gods,\n    Bowing, belike, to conquering circumstance.\n    And wilt not _thou_? Nay, if this law thou spurnest,\n    Thy sire, when he begat thee, should have writ\n    Some compact countersigned by gods unknown!\n\nThe nurse makes moral weakness into a very religion,[484] and Ph\u00e6dra\u2019s\nheart, one would suppose, is finally broken when, to this appeal that\nthe gods themselves are against her, is added proof that man is utterly\nunable to understand. \u201cIf thy life had not been in such danger,\u201d says the\nnurse, \u201cand thou hadst _happened to be a chaste woman_, I should not thus\nlead thee on,\u201d[485] and again: \u201c_Thy duty, to be sure, forbids sin; but,\nas things are_, be advised by me\u201d.[486] This hideous purring is perhaps\nPh\u00e6dra\u2019s bitterest shame. No one can understand, except the prince who\nseems so utterly remote. Hippolytus, after her death, can say[487]\n\n    Unchaste in passion, chaste in soul was she;\n    Me hath my passionless purity dishonoured.\n\nWhat does Ph\u00e6dra herself say? Is there any reply to the dreadful\neloquence of her old attendant? There is only one reply conceivable,\nand she offers it: \u201cWhatever gods may do, or men think, I must so act\nas to be able to respect myself\u201d.[488] Euripides insists that the\ncentre of ethics lies in man himself. For Ph\u00e6dra there is no soul on\nwhich she can rely but her own; the conflict must be fought out within\nherself. The great speech[489] in which she tells her spiritual history\nto the chorus without any reserve or faltering, is the kernel of the\ntragedy. We realize how empty of all comfort life can be for those who\nresolutely reject outworn creeds and turn to seek for a better. Here is\nno thought, no hint, of a saviour; the puny soul must struggle alone with\nan uncomprehended universe. \u00c6schylus had found a saviour in Zeus;[490]\nEuripides can see no comfort in gods who are less virtuous than men.\nIn this speech, too, we note for the first time a portrayal of moral\ntemptation and a clear conception of conscience. Sophocles understands\nwell how duty can brace the soul to heroic life or death, but for him\nthe sanction of duty lies in the will of external deities. For Euripides\nconscience is sufficient as a rule of conduct.\n\nPh\u00e6dra is a masterpiece of characterization. Whatever we are to guess of\nthe earlier[491] picture, she is here a noble and spirited woman, who\ncannot help her instincts but who can and will dispute their power over\nher life. She is, of course, not perfect\u2014if she were she would be no fit\nsubject for drama\u2014and the manner in which Euripides has caused the action\nto hinge precisely upon her weaknesses, without lessening our respect and\naffection, is one of the most improving studies provided by dramatic art.\nThe little crevices of circumstance by which wrong-doing\u2014the destruction\nof Hippolytus\u2014creeps into her soul are beautifully indicated. She is\nwasted by fasting,[492] a state conducive to keener perception and weaker\nwill. She has been brought\u2014without any attempt on her part, so surely\nshe may indulge in the disastrous joy[493]\u2014from Athens to the little\ntown where the prince lives. Her husband, as it chances,[494] is from\nhome and her life is left empty for \u201clong, long thoughts\u201d.[495] When she\ndwells upon her passion the recollection of her mother\u2019s and her sister\u2019s\nfate half attracts while it half repels.[496] Her passionate nature\ninsists on revealing some part of her distress to the keen eyes of the\nnurse, who forthwith joins the claims of old affection[497] to this new\nsecret pain. So it is that she is half-conquered by what she will not do:\u2014\n\n    Nay, in God\u2019s name, forbear! Thy words are vile\n    But wise withal. Love in my soul too well\n    Hath mined his way. Urge sin thus winningly\n    And passion sweeps my fears into the gulf.[498]\n\nBut the nurse will not forbear, and the comforting promise of a\ncharm which shall \u201cstill this disease,\u201d[499] as Ph\u00e6dra perhaps\nhalf-suspects,[500] is an undertaking to win Hippolytus. The dread strain\nof illness, passion, and shame have turned the woman for a moment into a\nnervous child.[501] Thus it comes about that without disgrace, without\nforfeiture of her conscience, Ph\u00e6dra moves towards the dread moment[502]\nat which she hears the outcry of Hippolytus. Then after all the anguish,\nshe listens to his intolerable endless speech! Such is the situation\nin which murder is conceived. In this way Hippolytus\u2019 \u03c3\u03c9\u03c6\u03c1\u03bf\u03c3\u03cd\u03bd\u03b7 has\ncertainly been his undoing.[503]\n\nWe are told[504] that this play is a second version of the theme,\nand that it was called _The Crowned Hippolytus_ (from the lovely\naddress to Artemis) to distinguish it from the first, called _The\nVeiled Hippolytus_. This version (now lost) is said to have contained\n\u201cimproprieties\u201d which the poet afterwards removed. This refers to the\nattitude of Ph\u00e6dra, who showed less reserve in her passion than in the\nlater play. She invoked the moon-goddess, perhaps to aid her in winning\nHippolytus, and boldly pointed to the infidelities of Theseus as an\nexcuse for her own passion.[505] The reproaches[506] which Aristophanes\nlays upon Ph\u00e6dra refer perhaps only to this earlier version, but his most\nfamous gibe[507] is upon a line[508] of our text,\n\n    \u1f21 \u03b3\u03bb\u1ff6\u03c3\u03c3\u2019 \u1f40\u03bc\u03ce\u03bc\u03bf\u03c7\u2019, \u1f21 \u03b4\u1f72 \u03c6\u03c1\u1f74\u03bd \u1f00\u03bd\u03ce\u03bc\u03bf\u03c4\u03bf\u03c2,\n\n\u201cMy tongue hath sworn; my soul abides unsworn.\u201d This seems to give us\nthe measure of the comic poet\u2019s criticism; he blames Euripides for this\nsentiment, and yet Hippolytus even in his most desperate trouble will\nnot clear himself by breaking his oath. One cannot, however, refrain\nfrom pointing out that even if he had broken it, Theseus would not have\nbelieved him,[509] and that Hippolytus realizes this.[510]\n\nThe HECUBA (\u1f19\u03ba\u03ac\u03b2\u03b7) is the next play in order of date; it was performed\nabout 425 B.C.[511] This tragedy was enormously popular throughout\nantiquity, as the great volume of the scholia proves. It was one of\nthe three plays\u2014the others were _Ph\u0153niss\u00e6_ and _Orestes_\u2014used as an\nEuripidean reading-book in the Byzantine schools.\n\nThe scene is laid in Thrace, where the Greeks are encamped after the\nfall of Troy; the background is a tent wherein captive Trojan women are\nquartered. The ghost of Polydorus, Priam\u2019s youngest son, tells how he\nhas been murdered by the Thracian king, Polymestor; he has appeared in\na dream to his mother Hecuba. On his departure, Hecuba enters, and soon\nlearns that her daughter Polyxena is to be sacrificed at the tomb of\nAchilles. Odysseus comes to fetch the maiden, who welcomes death as a\nrelief from slavery. Soon Talthybius enters, summoning Hecuba to bury\nPolyxena, whose noble death has filled the Greeks with admiration. Hecuba\nsends a woman to fetch sea-water for the obsequies, and this messenger\nreturns with the body of Polydorus. Hecuba exclaims that the murderer is\nPolymestor: her dream has told her. Agamemnon enters, and she induces\nhim to connive at her taking vengeance upon the Thracian, his ally. Next\nshe sends for Polymestor and his children, and (after a beautiful ode\non the last hours of Troy), they arrive. Polymestor is induced to go\nwith his little sons within the tent, where they are slaughtered and he\nhimself blinded. His cries bring back Agamemnon, who rejects the pleas of\nPolymestor. The Thracian, in his despair, prophesies the strange end both\nof Agamemnon and of Hecuba. He is dragged away, and the drama ends with\npreparations for the voyage to Greece.\n\nThis tragedy, let it be said plainly, is on the whole poor and\nuninteresting.[512] It has been frequently noted, for example, that\nthe plot is \u201cepisodic,\u201d that it falls into two divisions, the story of\nPolyxena and the vengeance upon Polymestor, which are really two small\ndramas with no genuine connexion. To this it has been replied that the\nspiritual history of Hecuba supplies unity to the whole; that these\nepisodes bring out her development from a victim into a fiend.[513]\nBut this is scarcely satisfactory. For the two parts are developed so\ncompletely along their several lines, they have so little dependence upon\none another, that they could stand apart; and that is the real test.\nFurther, the poet himself is uneasy. He is anxious to make some sort of\nconnexion, but it is curiously adventitious. His device, that the corpse\nof Polydorus is discovered by the woman sent for water wherewith to bathe\nthe body of Polyxena, has won too high praise. An attempt to strengthen\nit, or rather to draw attention to its neatness, is supplied in the\nconversation between Hecuba and Agamemnon:[514] \u201cHow did he die?\u201d \u201cBy the\nhands of his Thracian host.\u201d ... \u201cWho brought his body hither?\u201d ... \u201cThis\nwoman. She found it upon the sea-shore.\u201d \u201c_Was she looking for it, or\nbusied with some other task?_\u201d The last question is absurd; Agamemnon has\nno reason to ask it. Other little hooks,[515] less obtrusive than this,\nare provided here and there to connect the two parts. If the play were an\nunity they would not be needed.\n\nAgain, the favourite charge against Euripides, that he delights in\nquasi-judicial disputes, is brought in here also. The accusation is\ngenerally unfair. Critics have been so eager to condemn this poet that\nthey forget the trial scene of the _Eumenides_, the altercation between\n\u0152dipus and Creon in the _\u0152dipus at Colonus_ and various other passages in\nthe earlier tragedians. If a dispute occurs at all, it is in accordance\nwith the genius of Greek tragedy to set it out in formally opposed\nspeeches. One might as well complain of Hamlet\u2019s soliloquies. But in the\n_Hecuba_ there is more than this. The queen has a gusto not merely for\neloquent appeals or invective, but for self-conscious rhetoric, \u201cFilled\nwith lament, not destitute of tears,\u201d[516] is abominable. One is not\nsurprised to learn that the queen is interested in professional teachers\nof rhetoric,[517] and one remembers that Gorgias, the greatest of them,\npaid his first visit to Athens a year or two[518] before this play was\nproduced.\n\nThe whole piece in its tone and method is far below the best of\nEuripides\u2019 work. Certain things are undoubtedly excellent\u2014the famous\nchorus[519] already mentioned, and above all the speech[520] of\nPolyxena and the narrative of her death.[521] The whole work has not\nenough calibre. The pathos has no subtlety; the characterization is\nmachine-made; the style, though clear and even elegant\u2014one must allow\nthat the first speech[522] of Polymestor, as a piece of conversational\nGreek, is unobtrusively perfect\u2014has remarkably few of those feats[523] of\nidiom which delight us elsewhere.\n\nPolyxena is charming, but a slight sketch only compared with the Medea\nand the Ph\u00e6dra who have preceded her. Agamemnon the cautious prince,\nOdysseus the opportunist, Polymestor the brutally wicked barbarian,\nare characters whom dozens of Euripides\u2019 contemporaries could have\nproduced with ease. Talthybius the herald, still more shadowy, claims\nremembrance by his na\u00efve conceit.[524] Hecuba herself is hardly better.\nTrue, the poet has shown admirably how she progresses from weakness to\nfrightful strength under the pressure of injustice, but without any very\nsympathetic psychology we fall short of genuine tragedy and touch only\nmelodrama. And she is more than a little grotesque. Her strange passion\nfor rhetorical studies we have already noted. She has, moreover, a taste\nfor inopportune theorizing,[525] even concerning theology.[526] Her\ngriefs themselves command our respect, and she can in one or two flashes\nof inspiration speak of them in language[527] not unworthy of Shakespeare\nhimself; but there is too much repetition of merely melancholy\nadjectives, and though there should be only one emotion in us towards a\nwoman who has lost all her children, we can hardly retain it when she\nreminds us that they were fifty in number.[528]\n\nThe apparition of the murdered Polydorus is an interesting element in\nthe action. First, we view the early part of the drama with greater\nsympathy for the queen, knowing as we do the new horror which awaits her.\nSecondly, it is necessary that Hecuba should know how Polydorus died.\nThough but vaguely affected by the vision at first,[529] when parts of\nit are fulfilled, she remembers and believes definitely in the rest, and\nknows that Polymestor is the murderer.[530]\n\nThe ANDROMACHE (\u1f08\u03bd\u03b4\u03c1\u03bf\u03bc\u03ac\u03c7\u03b7) is perhaps the next[531] extant play in the\norder of time. It was not originally brought out at Athens.[532]\n\nThe action takes place before the house of Neoptolemus, prince of Phthia\nin Thessaly; at one side of the orchestra is the shrine of Thetis.\nAndromache delivers the prologue. After the fall of Troy she became\nthe prize of Neoptolemus to whom she has borne a son, Molottus. Later\nthe prince married Hermione, daughter of the Spartan king Menelaus.\nAndromache has hidden the child and herself taken sanctuary in the shrine\nof Thetis; the boy\u2019s father is from home, having gone to Delphi to ask\nApollo\u2019s pardon for demanding reparation for Achilles\u2019 death. Andromache\nnow sends a fellow-slave to ask the aid of Peleus, king of Phthia and\nher master\u2019s grandfather. Soon she is joined by the chorus, a company\nof Phthian women who sympathize but urge submission. Hermione enters,\nand after a spiteful altercation, in which she tries in vain to make\nthe captive leave her sanctuary, departs with threats. Menelaus enters,\nleading Molottus; he offers Andromache her choice: will she submit to\ndeath, or see the boy slain? Andromache gives herself up, whereupon\nMenelaus announces that, while she must die, Molottus lies at the mercy\nof Hermione. By this treachery Andromache is goaded into the most bitter\ninvective to be found in Euripides. The chorus dwell upon the folly of\ndomestic irregularities such as those of Neoptolemus. Next Menelaus leads\nforth Andromache and Molottus for death, when Peleus hurries in and\nreleases them. After a violent quarrel Menelaus throws up his daughter\u2019s\ncause and departs. Peleus leads the captives away while the chorus\nsing his youthful exploits. From the palace comes Hermione\u2019s nurse:\ndeserted by her father and dreading her husband\u2019s vengeance the princess\nis seeking to destroy herself. Next moment Hermione rushes out in\ndistraction and the nurse is attempting to calm her when Orestes enters,\nexplaining that he has called to inquire after his cousin Hermione. She\nbegs him to take her away to Menelaus before her husband returns. Orestes\nagrees, reminding her that she has in the past been betrothed to him; now\nNeoptolemus shall pay for his insults by death at Delphi. After their\ndeparture the chorus sing of the gods who built but abandoned Troy, and\nof Orestes\u2019 vengeance upon Clyt\u00e6mnestra. Peleus returns, having heard\nof Hermione\u2019s flight. In a moment arrives a messenger who tells how\nNeoptolemus has been murdered by Delphians at the instigation of Orestes.\nThe body is borne in, and Peleus laments over it until interrupted by the\ngoddess Thetis, his bride of long ago. She comforts him with a promise of\nimmortality. Andromache is to marry Helenus, king of Molossia,[533] and\nher son is to be ancestor of a dynasty in that land.\n\nCertain remarkable difficulties in the plot must be faced.\n\nFirst is the breakdown of Menelaus in the presence of Peleus. The\nfirst half of the play has exhibited his unswerving resolve to destroy\nAndromache and her child. Every conceivable argument save one has been\naddressed to him in vain. That one argument is physical compulsion, and\nPeleus certainly does not offer it.[534] After a storm of mutual abuse\nthe Spartan withdraws from the whole situation, muttering an excuse which\nis scarcely meant to be taken seriously: he is in a hurry to chastise an\nunfriendly state.[535] He goes just far enough to embitter his enemies\nto the utmost and not far enough to redeem his threats; and he retires\nwithout a word to his daughter after committing her to a deeply dangerous\nproject. Menelaus has faults, but crass stupidity is not one of them;\non the contrary he is reviled as the type of base cunning. Why, then,\ndoes he act with such utter futility at a crisis which anyone could have\nforeseen?\n\nIn the second place, when was Neoptolemus murdered? Orestes declares that\nthe prince will be slain at Delphi, and at once departs with Hermione.\nAfter a choric song Peleus comes back, and almost at once receives the\nnews of his grandson\u2019s death. When Orestes utters his prophecy the\nmessenger from Delphi can hardly be more than a mile from the house.\nHas he already committed the murder as a prelude to an innocent and\nirrelevant pilgrimage to Dodona? And, if so, why does he reveal, or\nrather not reveal, the fact? And why has he risked himself in Phthia\nwhen the news of his crime may at any moment be revealed?[536]\n\nThirdly, there is a grave difficulty in the structure, independent of\nMenelaus\u2019 conduct and the dating of Orestes\u2019 crime. The play seems to\nfall into two halves with but a slight connexion\u2014the plight of Andromache\nand the woes of Neoptolemus\u2019 house.\n\nThe late Dr. Verrall\u2019s theory[537] of the play explains all these things\ntogether. Menelaus has come to see that it is to his interest that his\ndaughter should be the wife of the Argive rather than of the Phthiote\nprince. He and Orestes therefore concoct a plan to this end. Two things\nmust be achieved: Neoptolemus must be removed, and Hermione, passionately\nas she loves her lord, must be induced to accept his assassin. The\ncunning of Menelaus fastens upon the failings of his son-in-law as the\npath to success. First, he has offended the Delphians, and thus Orestes\nfinds it easy to compass his death. Second, he has caused bitterness in\nhis own house by his connexion with Andromache. Menelaus, while Orestes\nis at Delphi, urges Hermione into action which her jealousy approves\nbut which her intellect (when it is allowed to speak) must and does\ncondemn. The Spartan has no intention of killing the captives, but he\nsees to it that Hermione is, in the eyes of Peleus and his subjects,\nirretrievably committed to such an intention, which will beyond doubt\nincense Neoptolemus most bitterly\u2014or would, were he still alive as\nHermione supposes. Then, when she has committed herself, he calmly bows\nto the outburst of Peleus and leaves her ready to snatch at any hope\nin her hysterical despair. At this moment, carefully awaited by the\nplotters, Orestes appears. He has already murdered Neoptolemus, and is\nnow ready to take Hermione away. But this is not enough. She must appear\nto come by her own suggestion, and it must appear that she has known at\nthe moment of her elopement what has happened at Delphi. As she hurries\nfrom the scene he utters, apparently in consolation of her (though really\nshe is out of hearing), so that it may lodge in the minds of the chorus,\na prophecy of Neoptolemus\u2019 fate. Later, she is to be reminded by her\nfather and her new suitor how completely she is involved in suspicion\nof complicity. Thus she will be thrown into the arms of Orestes, and\nwhatever blame there is will be laid upon Delphi.[538]\n\nThis view should in its essentials be adopted. Every dramatist commits\nfaults; but these apparent faults in the _Andromache_ prove too much.\nThey tend to show not that Euripides is here inferior in construction\nand psychology to Sophocles, but that he is insane. Few readers could\ncompose a speech like that of Andromache beginning \u1f66 \u03c0\u1fb6\u03c3\u03b9\u03bd \u1f00\u03bd\u03b8\u03c1\u03ce\u03c0\u03bf\u03b9\u03c3\u03b9\u03bd\n\u1f14\u03c7\u03b8\u03b9\u03c3\u03c4\u03bf\u03b9 \u03b2\u03c1\u03bf\u03c4\u1ff6\u03bd, or like the messenger\u2019s narrative. But we could all\nmanage the exit of Menelaus better. There is one great general objection\nto Verrall\u2019s theory. Is it not much too subtle? If readers have always\nmissed the point, would not spectators do so even more certainly?\nVerrall, in answer, points to a passage in the Greek _Argument_: \u03c4\u1f78 \u03b4\u1f72\n\u03b4\u03c1\u1fb6\u03bc\u03b1 \u03c4\u1ff6\u03bd \u03b4\u03b5\u03c5\u03c4\u03ad\u03c1\u03c9\u03bd, which he takes to mean \u201cthis play is one of the\nsequels\u201d.[539] He believes that the audience had a sufficient knowledge\nof the earlier part of the story to follow the _Andromache_ with no\nperplexity. Whether this knowledge was given by an earlier play of\nEuripides is not of course certain, but may be regarded as likely.\n\nWe next note a feature of equal importance\u2014the atmosphere. Every reader\nobserves strange anachronisms of sentiment and allusion\u2014Hermione\u2019s\noutburst[540] against women who destroy the confidence between husband\nand wife, Peleus\u2019 comments on Laced\u00e6monian society,[541] and the like,\nwhich have no relevance to the \u201cHomeric age\u201d of the Trojan war. But\nthe whole tone of the play is unheroic; even if these special features\nwere removed it would remain quite unlike a Sophoclean drama. Euripides\nhas, in fact, written a play about his own generation with a definite\npurpose. He takes stories from myths as the foundation of his plays,\nbut his interest is in his own time. In spite of \u201cthy mother Helen\u201d\nand \u201cthe hapless town of the Phrygians,\u201d his work concerns essentially\nfifth-century Athenians. Hence the almost complete absence of poetic\ncolour, which is only found in the conventional lyrics and the goddess of\nthe epilogue, who is no more in tune with the rest of the piece than a\nfairy-queen would be at the close of _A Doll\u2019s House_. His chief concern\nis the danger to family life involved in the practice of slave-holding.\nNeoptolemus loses his life, and Hermione consents to the wreck of her own\nhappiness, simply because of Andromache\u2019s position in the home. She is\nthe fulcrum which the astute villains employ; without her Hermione would\nnever have been manageable.\n\nIn harmony with this realistic spirit is the character-drawing. None\nof the personages is of heroic stature, but all are amazingly real,\nhowever disagreeable. The two conspirators, Menelaus and Orestes, of\ncourse, do not reveal their natures plainly. The latter, as far as this\nincident alone is concerned, might strike one as almost featureless;\nbut there cling to him significant little fragments from the earlier\nhistory of Hermione. A sinister faithfulness actuates him. In spite of\nhis repulse he has not forgotten his affection for Hermione, not even\nher last words of renunciation.[542] Nor has he ceased to brood on the\ninsults of Neoptolemus\u2014perhaps nothing in the play is more effective\nthan the gloomy triumph with which he flings back the hated word: \u201cand\nthe matricide shall teach thee\u201d.... Menelaus, as a study in successful\nvillainy combined with the domestic virtues, is quite perfect in his\nkind; _ces p\u00e8res de famille sont capables de tout_. But it is upon the\nthree victims, Hermione, Andromache, and Peleus, that the poet has\nlavished his skill most notably. Each has precisely the virtues and\nthe failings which are fit to make them answer with the precision of\nmachinery to each string pulled by the Spartan diplomatist. Peleus may\nbe relied upon to provide Menelaus with an excuse for retiring when he\nwishes, and to utter wild language which can be used to prove that he is\nresponsible for Hermione\u2019s flight.[543] Andromache, earning and receiving\nour pity for her past woes and her present anguish, yet alienates us by\nher arrogance and a certain metallic brutality in repartee and invective\nwhich again are invaluable to the men whose puppet she is. That she\nshould not cower before Hermione or her father is natural, but that is\nnot the point; her trampling tactlessness[544] is a positive disease. She\nis indeed (except in her love for Molottus) as callous as Menelaus. This\nis a point of absolutely fundamental import. That interview early in the\nplay, which might have been priceless to both women, ends only in the\nhopeless embitterment of Hermione. The latter is the best-drawn character\nof all. Swayed by strong primitive impulses, jealousy and fear, without\nany balance of mind or emotion, curiously liable to accept the domination\nof a stronger personality, she is fatally suited to the machinations of\nher father. When she first appears, it is fairly plain that she has come\nto suggest a compromise to Andromache.[545] What she wishes is not blood,\nbut servility. Spiteful and vulgar, she cannot forgive the captive for\nthe effortless dignity which she has inherited from Trojan kings. Hers\nis no vision of a murdered rival: how petty yet how horribly natural it\nis\u2014she wishes to see Andromache scrubbing the floor![546] But vulgar and\nspiteful as she is, the princess can be wrought upon, as the later part\nof the action shows, and if only to self-respect Andromache had added\ntact and sympathy Hermione would have been her passionate friend before\nthirty lines had been spoken. The pathos of the scene lies above all in\nthe misunderstanding which pits the two women against one another, where\nthey should have combined against the callous craft which was using them\nboth for the ends of politics.\n\nThe deities whom we find in this play need detain us only a moment.\nThetis is no more than sweetening for the popular taste. Soothing and\nbeautiful as are her consolations to the aged sufferer, such a personage\nhas no real concern with a drama so utterly secular. As for Apollo, it\nis here plainer than usual that his name is nothing but a convenient\nshort term for the great priestly organization at Delphi. That there is\na genuine divine person who has aided Orestes and punished Neoptolemus\nwe cannot believe. The only touch of religious awe to be found lies in\nthe messenger\u2019s report. When the assassins are fleeing before their\ncourageous victim, \u201cfrom the midst of the shrine some one raised an\nawful voice whereat the hair stood up, and rallied the host again to\nfight\u201d.[547] It is this same speaker, however, who thus sums up his\naccount of the whole event: \u201cAnd thus hath he that gives oracles to\nothers, he who for all mankind is the judge of righteousness, thus hath\nhe entreated the son of Achilles who offered him amends. Like a man that\nis base hath he remembered an ancient grudge. How, then, can he be wise?\u201d\nTo the simple Thessalian confronted for the first time with doubts of\nOlympian justice, such phrasing is natural. For Euripides the conclusion\nis that Apollo does not exist at all. \u201cApollo\u201d does not take vengeance\nupon the blasphemer at the time of his offence, but waits unaccountably\ntill his second visit, when he comes to make amends and when by an\naccident, fortunate for the god, a conspiracy of villainous men happens\nto make his enemy their victim.[548]\n\nIn keeping with all this is the literary tone of the work. The lyrics\nare of little interest to a reader, though one[549] of them markedly\nsums up the situation and forces home the moral. For the rest, the\ndialogue is utterly unheroic and unpoetical but splendidly vigorous,\nterse, and idiomatic; in this respect the _Andromache_ is equal to the\nbest work of Euripides. Could anything of its kind be more perfect than\nthe first speech of Hermione[550]\u2014this mixture of pathetic heart-hunger,\nof childish snobbery and petulance, this terribly familiar instinct to\ncast in the teeth of the unfortunate precisely those things for which\none formerly envied them, these scraps of ludicrously inaccurate slander\nagainst \u201cbarbarians\u201d picked up from the tattle of gossiping slaves, and\nthe heavy preachments about \u201cthe marriage-question\u201d which cry aloud their\norigin from the lips of Menelaus? In\n\n    \u03b4\u03b5\u1fd6 \u03c3\u2019 \u1f00\u03bd\u03c4\u1f76 \u03c4\u1ff6\u03bd \u03c0\u03c1\u1f76\u03bd \u1f40\u03bb\u03b2\u03af\u03c9\u03bd \u03c6\u03c1\u03bf\u03bd\u03b7\u03bc\u03ac\u03c4\u03c9\u03bd\n    \u03c0\u03c4\u1fc6\u03be\u03b1\u03b9 \u03c4\u03b1\u03c0\u03b5\u03b9\u03bd\u03ae\u03bd, \u03c0\u03c1\u03bf\u03c3\u03c0\u03b5\u03c3\u03b5\u1fd6\u03bd \u03c4\u2019 \u1f10\u03bc\u1f78\u03bd \u03b3\u03cc\u03bd\u03c5,\n    \u03c3\u03b1\u03af\u03c1\u03b5\u03b9\u03bd \u03c4\u03b5 \u03b4\u1ff6\u03bc\u03b1 \u03c4\u03bf\u1f50\u03bc\u03cc\u03bd, \u1f10\u03ba \u03c7\u03c1\u03c5\u03c3\u03b7\u03bb\u03ac\u03c4\u03c9\u03bd\n    \u03c4\u03b5\u03cd\u03c7\u03b5\u03c9\u03bd \u03c7\u03b5\u03c1\u1f76 \u03c3\u03c0\u03b5\u03af\u03c1\u03bf\u03c5\u03c3\u03b1\u03bd \u1f08\u03c7\u03b5\u03bb\u1ff4\u03bf\u03c5 \u03b4\u03c1\u03cc\u03c3\u03bf\u03bd,\n    \u03b3\u03bd\u1ff6\u03bd\u03b1\u03b9 \u03b8\u2019 \u1f35\u03bd\u2019 \u03b5\u1f36 \u03b3\u1fc6\u03c2,[551]\n\nthe last phrase is marvellous. The very sound and fall of the words, with\nthe two long monosyllables, can only be described as a verbal box on the\nears. Observe too the great speech[552] of Andromache. In the lines\n\n    \u03bd\u1fe6\u03bd \u03b4\u2019 \u1f10\u03c2 \u03b3\u03c5\u03bd\u03b1\u1fd6\u03ba\u03b1 \u03b3\u03bf\u03c1\u03b3\u1f78\u03c2 \u1f41\u03c0\u03bb\u03af\u03c4\u03b7\u03c2 \u03c6\u03b1\u03bd\u03b5\u03af\u03c2\n    \u03ba\u03c4\u03b5\u03af\u03bd\u03b5\u03b9\u03c2 \u03bc\u2019\u00b7 \u1f00\u03c0\u03cc\u03ba\u03c4\u03b5\u03b9\u03bd\u2019, \u1f61\u03c2 \u1f00\u03b8\u03ce\u03c0\u03b5\u03c5\u03c4\u03cc\u03bd \u03b3\u03ad \u03c3\u03b5\n    \u03b3\u03bb\u03ce\u03c3\u03c3\u03b7\u03c2 \u1f00\u03c6\u03ae\u03c3\u03c9 \u03c4\u1fc6\u03c2 \u1f10\u03bc\u1fc6\u03c2 \u03ba\u03b1\u1f76 \u03c0\u03b1\u1fd6\u03b4\u03b1 \u03c3\u03ae\u03bd,\n\none can hear the words gurgling in her throat before they issue in\nspeech; at the end she is positively hissing. Peleus, too, ineffectual as\nhe may be in argument, is a master of pungent rhetoric.[553]\n\nFor readers who admire exclusively the Sophoclean type of play, the\n_Andromache_ is a painful experience to be forgotten as soon as possible.\nFor any who find interest in the behaviour of ordinary beings at a great\ntesting moment, this work is an endless delight.\n\nThe HERCULES FURENS[554] or _Mad Heracles_ (\u1f29\u03c1\u03b1\u03ba\u03bb\u1fc6\u03c2 \u039c\u03b1\u03b9\u03bd\u03cc\u03bc\u03b5\u03bd\u03bf\u03c2) is\nperhaps the next play in order of time. Most critics place it about the\nyear 420 B.C. or a little earlier; the chief reason for this is the\ncelebrated chorus about old age\u2014it is natural supposition that the poet\nhad recently passed beyond the military age, and so would now be just\nover sixty.\n\nThe scene is laid before the house of Heracles at Thebes. Amphitryon,\nreputed father of the hero, explains the situation. Heracles, leaving his\nwife Megara and his three sons with Amphitryon, has departed to Hades in\nquest of Cerberus. In his absence one Lycus has seized the throne and\nintends to murder Heracles\u2019 family. Megara would submit, but Amphitryon\nstill hopes for Heracles\u2019 return. Certain aged Thebans, who form the\nchorus, arrive, followed by Lycus who, after sneers at Heracles, orders\nhis henchmen to burn his victims in their house. Megara begs of Lycus\nthat they be given time to array themselves for death. He consents, and\nthe sufferers retire. Lycus departs, and soon the sad procession returns.\nSuddenly Heracles himself enters. He tells that he has brought back\nCerberus and released Theseus, King of Athens, from the lower world; he\npromises to destroy Lycus and goes within. A splendid ode laments the\nweakness of old age but glorifies the Muses. Lycus returns, enters the\nhouse, and is slain; the chorus greet his yells with delight and hail\nHeracles as now proved the son of Zeus. Suddenly Iris and Frenzy sweep\ndown from the sky, sent by Hera to drive Heracles mad. Frenzy herself is\nreluctant, but enters the house, and the chorus raise cries of horror,\namid which the house totters in ruin. A messenger relates how Heracles,\nafter slaying Lycus, has been seized with madness and destroyed his wife\nand children. The eccyclema shows the hero sunk in stupor. He awakes and,\nrealizing his situation, meditates suicide, but Theseus arrives and wins\nhim back to courage; after terrible outbursts against Heaven he departs\nto live with Theseus in Athens.\n\nAfter a cursory reading of this play one\u2019s impressions are doubtful. Many\nfeatures excite warm admiration, such as the superb lyric[555] on old\nage, the speeches[556] of Megara about her fatherless boys, Heracles\u2019\nreplies[557] to Theseus; even the wrangle between Lycus and Amphitryon is\nfull of idiomatic vigour.[558] But to be blunt, what is the play about?\nIt works up to a climax in the deliverance of Amphitryon and his kin,\nand then begins again. Long before the close we have forgotten Lycus. We\nfeel that the play is structureless, or (which is worse) that it falls\nso clearly into two dramas that we cannot view it as a single piece of\nart. But if we seriously seek for unity, we naturally look for it in\nthe fortunes of Heracles himself. This granted, we shall expect to find\nthat the incident which in a bare summary seems to disjoint the whole\nis specially treated. Looking then at the incursion of Lycus, we find\nthat at every moment the events are considered from the point of view\nof Heracles, in terms of his actions, and the sentiments which cling to\nhis personality. We are only prevented from seeing this at first by the\nmodern supposition that the culmination of a tragedy is the death of a\nleading person, not a spiritual crisis. The discussion between Amphitryon\nand Megara about instant submission is dominated by despair of the hero\u2019s\nreturn in the latter\u2019s mind and by hope of it in the former\u2019s. As soon as\nLycus arrives, he asks: \u201cWhat hope, what defence find ye against death?\nBelieve ye that the father of these lads, he who lies in Hades, will\nreturn?\u201d Whereupon he proceeds to a long tirade in abuse of the hero,\nand Amphitryon\u2019s even more garrulous response deals almost solely with\nhis son\u2019s achievements and the gratitude which he merits from Thebes\nand Greece. As the doomed party go indoors the old man reminds Heaven\nitself of the help it owes to Heracles, and the following lyrics are an\nelaborate chronicle of his marvellous exploits. Finally, when at point\nto die, Megara in a beautifully natural manner turns her farewell to her\nsons into a painful memory of the plans which their father used to make\nfor them. In this way the danger of his family is considered as a test of\nHeracles\u2019 powers and greatness. Will he make good the promise of his past\nglories? Will he return and free them from Lycus?\n\nDr. Verrall[559] follows this line of thought, giving to it far greater\nprecision and colour. He believes that the subject of this play is\nthe miraculous tone investing the traditional stories about Heracles.\nAccording to popular belief in the poet\u2019s day, Heracles was a son of\nZeus; he performed many exploits which were definitely superhuman,\nculminating in a descent to Hades and return therefrom. These stories are\nuntrue. The play indicates this simply and directly, giving, however,\nmost attention to the method by which they won credence. In a primitive\ncivilization, when men had not yet attained to clear thinking, remarkable\nbut human feats like those of Heracles were extolled as miraculous by\nthe uncritical. Such are Amphitryon and the chorus, who when challenged\nby Lycus are capable only of violent reiteration of their belief, but\noffer, and can offer, no proof that the miracles happened. It is a\ncurious symptom of the former\u2019s vague credulity that while loving and\ndefending Heracles as his own son, he yet claims[560] the help of Zeus on\nthe ground that the god is himself Heracles\u2019 father. The Theban elders\njoin[561] in this irrational belief\u2014as soon as it appears that the divine\nparentage is established by the return from Hades, which even if true\nwould of course have nothing to do with the question. It is in such minds\nas this that belief in the miraculous life of Heracles first sprang up.\nBut this belief rests largely upon the accounts of his adventures given\nby Heracles himself; thus we come to the heart of the tragedy, the mental\ncondition of the hero.\n\nNear the end he exclaims against the consolations of Theseus: \u201cAlas!\nsuch words as thine are too trivial for my sorrows. I think not that the\ngods love unlawful unions, and that they put chains upon one another is\na belief I never held nor will I ever. God, if he be God, in truth needs\nnaught. These are but poets\u2019 wretched tales.\u201d[562] Plainly, the sober\nand reasonable speech which begins thus repudiates the highly-coloured\nbut pernicious stories of tradition to which Theseus has just appealed.\nHeracles believes in one God utterly above human weaknesses. Then what\nof Zeus\u2019 love of Alcmena, the jealousy of Hera, the whole basis of his\nsuffering as conceived by the orthodox? And what of his own semi-divine\nnature, the foundation again of his superhuman deeds? They are delusions.\nHeracles is no demi-god; his exploits, however great and valuable, are\nin no sense miraculous. This view, moreover, is precisely that which\nwe ought to gain from the early part of the drama. Lycus is no doubt\nan insolent bully, but would certainly not brave annihilation (whether\nat the hands of Zeus or of his son) by slaughtering a demi-god\u2019s\nfamily. That he acts so proves that he does not believe in the divine\nparentage of Heracles; and the support so readily given by Thebes to his\npolicy shows as plainly that to the mass of citizens no real proofs of\nsuperhuman nature have been offered. In brief, the actions and language\nof every one in the play except Heracles himself, Amphitryon, and the\nchorus\u2014of every one, including Theseus and even Megara, imply that in\nthis play Heracles is indeed a person of note, but an \u201ceminent man\u201d of no\nvery startling eminence.\n\nBut the hero himself long before this repudiation of \u201cpoets\u2019 wretched\ntales\u201d has himself given them authority. He tells his father that in\ntruth he has visited Hades, dragged Cerberus thence, and rescued Theseus.\nAt many places[563] in the drama he refers without misgiving or query\nto legendary monsters which he has quelled, and to his safe return from\nHades. This inconsistency, according to Dr. Verrall, is the root of\nthe drama. Heracles suffers from a growing tendency to madness; in his\nsane moods he knows that all his story is human, all the nobler for\nits humanity, but in his dark hours he accepts the vulgar splendours\nwhich rumour throws round his adventures, at such times lending nascent\nmyth the support of his own false witness. The tragedy of his life has\nbeen this mental distemper, which has finally caused him to destroy\nhis wife and children. It appears in dreadful paroxysms throughout the\nfirst speech which he addresses to Theseus\u2014first an attempt to account\nfor his murderous outbreak by an account of purely human events; then\ninconsistently a reference to Zeus\u2019 fatherhood and the attempt of Hera\nupon his infant life, followed by a splendidly vigorous catalogue of\nlegendary deeds, Typhos, the giants, and the rest, culminating with\ndespairing comments on his hopeless guilt and on the complete victory of\nHera; then he suddenly rends the goddess with his scorn: \u201cto such a deity\nwho would pray?\u2014for a jealous quarrel she has destroyed the guiltless\nbenefactor of Greece\u201d.\n\nTwo important details should be noted in connexion with this theory.\nFirst the apparition[564] of Iris and Frenzy seems to overthrow it\nutterly by a demonstration in presence of the audience that Heracles\u2019\nafflictions are caused by Hera. But the past scene, before ever Frenzy\narrives, has shown the hero, if not mad, yet not in full possession of\nhis senses.[565] Moreover, she is not seen by him at the moment when he\ngoes mad, yet, if the chorus see her, _a fortiori_ she should be visible\nwhen attacking her victim himself; again the scene in which the fiend\nherself shows kind-hearted scruples, is ludicrous. These personages\n(Verrall suggests) are a dream beheld by a member of the chorus who has\nbeen impressed by what he has already seen of Heracles\u2019 malady. This is\nproved by an absence of allusion to the event afterwards when the fatal\nincident is discussed, and when silence is incredible. The aged man (or\nmen) will gradually remember the dream afterwards; this is another way in\nwhich stories like that of Hera\u2019s vengeance obtain currency.\n\nThe second point arises from the conversation between Theseus and his\nfriend when clearly sane. Does he confirm the story of the visit to\nHades? Now, Heracles and he several times refer to his rescue \u201cfrom\nbelow,\u201d but never do they use language which necessarily refers to\nHades. \u201cThou didst bring me back safe to the light from the dead (or\ncorpses)\u201d[566]\u2014such is the style of allusion. Undoubtedly the language\ncan be applied to Hades; undoubtedly also it could fit some natural\nevent like a disaster in a cave or mine which may actually have been\nsuggested[567] by rationalists of the day as an explanation of the myth\u2014a\nsuggestion which the poet is inclined to adopt and for which therefore\nhe leaves room in his phraseology.\n\nTheseus, amiable as he is, yet presents little of interest; it is his\nfunction to voice the opinions of the normal unimaginative man. Megara,\nhowever, of whom little has been said, deserves sympathetic study. She\ndoes not share Amphitryon\u2019s extraordinary beliefs about his son,[568] but\nloves and admires him with an affection beautifully expressed throughout\nthe too brief portion of the drama in which she appears; it is she who\nlong before the other realizes his mental state.[569] In her, too,\npoetical imagination shines forth with a radiance which surpasses the\ncharm of the lyrics and Heracles\u2019 impetuous eloquence. It is she who\nutters the Sophoclean description[570] of sovereignty:\u2014\n\n    \u1f14\u03c7\u03c9\u03bd \u03c4\u03c5\u03c1\u03b1\u03bd\u03bd\u03af\u03b4\u2019, \u1f27\u03c2 \u03bc\u03b1\u03ba\u03c1\u03b1\u1f76 \u03bb\u03cc\u03b3\u03c7\u03b1\u03b9 \u03c0\u03ad\u03c1\u03b9\n    \u03c0\u03b7\u03b4\u03ce\u03c3\u2019 \u1f14\u03c1\u03c9\u03c4\u03b9 \u03c3\u03ce\u03bc\u03b1\u03c4\u2019 \u03b5\u1f30\u03c2 \u03b5\u1f50\u03b4\u03b1\u03af\u03bc\u03bf\u03bd\u03b1,\n\nand that expression[571] of her yearning grief which in its strange\nfelicity of pathos suggests Shakespeare\u2019s Constance:\u2014\n\n                \u03c0\u1ff6\u03c2 \u1f02\u03bd \u1f61\u03c2 \u03be\u03bf\u03c5\u03b8\u03cc\u03c0\u03c4\u03b5\u03c1\u03bf\u03c2\n    \u03bc\u03ad\u03bb\u03b9\u03c3\u03c3\u03b1 \u03c3\u03c5\u03bd\u03b5\u03bd\u03ad\u03b3\u03ba\u03b1\u03b9\u03bc\u2019 \u1f02\u03bd \u1f10\u03ba \u03c0\u03ac\u03bd\u03c4\u03c9\u03bd \u03b3\u03cc\u03bf\u03c5\u03c2,\n    \u03b5\u1f30\u03c2 \u1f13\u03bd \u03b4\u2019 \u1f10\u03bd\u03b5\u03b3\u03ba\u03bf\u1fe6\u03c3\u2019 \u1f00\u03b8\u03c1\u03cc\u03bf\u03bd \u1f00\u03c0\u03bf\u03b4\u03bf\u03af\u03b7\u03bd \u03b4\u03ac\u03ba\u03c1\u03c5;\n\nThe SUPPLICES[572] (\u1f39\u03ba\u03b5\u03c4\u03af\u03b4\u03b5\u03c2), or _Suppliant Women_, is generally\nsupposed on internal evidence[573] to have been produced about 420 B.C.\n\nThe Suppliants, who form the chorus, are the mothers of the Seven who\nattacked Thebes and their attendants. They surround \u00c6thra, mother of\nTheseus, the Athenian king, and beg her to win his aid for them, since\nthe Thebans have refused burial to the slain. Theseus at first refuses,\nbut \u00c6thra persuades him. A Theban herald enters to forbid Theseus, in\nthe name of the Theban king Creon, to aid the Suppliants. Theseus\nrejects this behest and prepares for war. After an ode, news comes of\nthe Athenian victory. The remains of five heroes are brought in (of the\nother two, Amphiaraus was swallowed up by the earth and Polynices is\nsupposed still at Thebes). Adrastus delivers funeral speeches over them.\nThe obsequies now take place. The body of Capaneus is burned separately,\nand Evadne his wife throws herself upon his pyre despite the entreaties\nof her father Iphis. The young sons of the chieftains bear in the funeral\nurns, and Adrastus promises that Argos will cherish undying gratitude\ntowards Athens. The goddess Athena appears and bids Theseus exact an\noath to this effect; she comforts the fatherless boys with a promise of\nvengeance.\n\nThis drama is perhaps the least popular and the least studied of all\nGreek plays, which is not surprising when one considers that, in spite\nof the praise merited by certain parts, the whole work considered\nby really dramatic standards is astonishingly bad. There is no\ncharacter-drawing worth the name, and though it may be said that the\nreal heroine of the drama is Athens,[574] it is still strange to find\nEuripides contented with such colourless persons as Theseus, \u00c6thra, and\nindeed all the characters. Still more striking are the irrelevancies.\nTheseus\u2019 address[575] to Adrastus and the assembly at large concerning\nthe blessings conferred by Heaven upon man, have hardly a semblance\nof connexion with the urgent and painful subject of debate. Even more\notiose, and far longer, is the dispute[576] between Theseus and the\nherald on the claims of monarchy and democracy. The scene of Evadne\u2019s\n_suttee_, however striking, is dramatically unjustifiable; it is an\nepisode in the bad sense meant by Aristotle\u2014no integral part of the\naction. The last scene is spoiled by the intervention of Athena, who\nmerely causes the Argives to give an oath instead of a simple promise\nthat they will ever be loyal friends of Athens. That this intervention\ncorresponds to very definite historical fact (the league between the two\nstates in 420 B.C. brought about by Alcibiades) makes no difference to\nthe \u00e6sthetic fact. None the less one notes in the _Supplices_ certain\nexcellent features. The appeal[577] of \u00c6thra to her son, and the lyric\ndirge of Evadne over her husband\u2019s pyre, are admirably composed. Several\nparts of the work are magnificent as spectacle\u2014the opening in which\nthe sorrowing mothers, Adrastus, and the fatherless boys are grouped\nabout the aged queen, the return of Theseus and his troops with the\ndead bodies, the episode of Evadne as it struck the eye,[578] and the\nprocession of boys carrying the funeral urns.\n\nThe ION[579] (\u1f3c\u03c9\u03bd) is a play of uncertain date, but was probably produced\nlate in Euripides\u2019 life; some would place it as low as 413 B.C.\n\nThe scene is laid before the temple at Delphi. Hermes tells how the\nAthenian princess Creusa, owing to the violence of Apollo, bore a\nchild, which Hermes brought to Delphi, where the boy grew up as a\ntemple-attendant. Later Creusa married Xuthus, and to-day they will\ncome to ask the oracle some remedy for their childlessness. Apollo will\ngive Ion to Xuthus as the latter\u2019s son; later he is to be made known to\nCreusa as her own. Ion enters, and in a beautiful song expresses his joy\nin the service of Apollo. The chorus (attendants of Creusa) draw near;\nthey converse with Ion and admire the temple fa\u00e7ade. Creusa arrives; she\nand Ion are mutually attracted, and she tells how \u201ca friend,\u201d having\nborne a child to Apollo and exposed it, wishes to know whether it still\nlives. Ion rejects the story, and urges her not to put such a question\nto the oracle. Xuthus now appears, and goes within to consult the god;\nCreusa retires, while Ion muses on the immorality of gods. After a choric\node Xuthus returns and greets Ion as his son: the oracle has declared\nthat the first man to meet him will be his offspring. Ion asks who is\nhis mother; they agree that she must be some Delphian Bacchante. The\nyouth is dismayed at the prospect of quitting Delphi for Athens, but\nXuthus genially bids him prepare a farewell banquet for his friends, and\ndeparts to offer sacrifice upon Parnassus. The Athenian women express\ntheir consternation: Athens is to have an alien ruler and Creusa must\nremain childless. When she returns they tell her the news, and in bitter\ndisappointment she breaks into an agonized recital of her old sorrow. An\naged male attendant undertakes to murder Ion by poison at the banquet.\nCreusa consents. After an ode praying for vengeance, a messenger brings\nnews that the plot has failed and Creusa has been condemned to death.\nThe queen hurries in, pursued by Ion and a mob; she takes refuge on the\naltar. Bitter reproaches pass between the two till the Pythian prophetess\nappears; giving Ion the basket in which he was discovered as a babe, and\nwhich still contains the articles then found with him, she bids him seek\nhis mother. Creusa greets him as her son and names the three objects.\nThey embrace with joy, but Ion, learning that not Xuthus but Apollo is\nhis father, determines to ask the oracle which account is true. Athena,\nhowever, appears and explains that Apollo has been compelled to change\nhis plans; Xuthus must continue to believe Ion his own son.\n\nThis drama suggests a rich tasselled robe of gorgeous embroidery; were\nit not that the basis of the story is so painfully sexual, the _Ion_\nwould be perhaps the most popular of Greek plays. The sudden changes of\nsituation, the emotional crises, the sheer thrill of many passages, the\nlovely study of the Greek Samuel at his holy tasks\u2014all these things make\na glorious play. But our delight is blurred by a recurrent perplexity.\nTheology is obtruded throughout, and such a theology as never was.\n\nApollo ravishes Creusa and by help of Hermes brings her child to Delphi,\nwhere he lives happily up to manhood, but Creusa is allowed to suppose\nher child destroyed by wild beasts. The god, however, intends to secure\nIon his rights as prince of Athens. Xuthus is to accept the lad as his\nson, while Creusa and Ion are to be made secretly known to each other.\nBut this plan is disturbed by the Athenian women, and the god, revising\nhis intention, sends the doves to save Ion, and the prophetess to save\nCreusa. All would now be well, since both Xuthus and the queen accept\nIon as a son. But Ion wishes to know whether the oracle speaks truth or\nlies.[580] Apollo therefore sends Athena to prevent him from taxing the\noracle with inconsistency. She explains the various activities of Apollo,\nprophesies concerning the Athenian race, and bids Creusa keep Xuthus in\nignorance.\n\nApollo is as much fool[581] as knave.[582] Athena may say that \u201cApollo\nhath done all things well,\u201d[583] but mortals will not endorse her\nsisterly admiration. Even the revised plan cannot succeed. How long will\nXuthus remain ignorant of facts which are being proclaimed, not only to\nCreusa and her son, but also to the crowd of Delphians and the Athenian\nwomen? Even if this could be secured, things are no better: Apollo has\nsaid both that he himself, and that Xuthus, is the father of Ion. Which\nof these statements is true matters comparatively little. One of them\nmust be a lie. The god who gives oracles to Greece is a trickster, and no\ncelestial consolations or Athenian throne can compensate the youth for\nthe loss of what filled his heart only this morning.\n\nThe _Ion_ is the one play in which Euripides attacks the Olympian\ntheology beyond all conceivable doubt. It is certain (i) that he does\nnot believe in the existence of Apollo and Hermes; (ii) that the Delphic\noracle is a human institution making impossible pretensions; and (iii)\nthat his method of attack is by innuendo and implication. Verrall\u2019s\ntheory of the poet\u2019s method is here on absolutely unassailable ground.\nThe story is purely human, and the theological story is a mere addendum\ndesigned to suit the religious occasion and many of the spectators. What,\nthen, is this human story? Verrall explains that Creusa was wronged by\nsome man unknown, and that her child perished. The Pythian priestess\nbore[584] a child which she reared with a natural tenderness.[585]\nThis child was Ion, whom the managers of the shrine determined to\nplace in a station which could assist their influence. Then occurs the\ndeadly scene in which the youth is about to kill Creusa. To save the\nDelphians from the responsibility of murdering a foreign queen in the\nopen street, and the boy from conduct which would make his admission to\nAthens impossible, a plot is hastily concocted. It will prevent war with\nAthens, it will destroy Creusa\u2019s hatred for Ion, and secure his future\nthrone. The priests have already heard, even if Apollo has not, the story\nshrieked[586] out at him by Creusa. By an impudent master-stroke they\ndetermine that Ion shall be the queen\u2019s long-lost child. To this end the\nhistory of the two persons supplies most of the means; all that is needed\nis something tangible to tie the knot. Hurriedly the clues are provided.\nThe necklace exposed long ago upon the babe is an easy matter; its fellow\nwas found upon the person of the P\u00e6dagogus.[587] The ever-blooming olive\nof the Acropolis can be equalled in freshness by sprays plucked to-day\nin Delphi; and for the embroidery, it is fairly certain that some such\ncovering must have been wrapped round the child, and its pattern is\nsufficiently vague.[588] The queen in her heart-hunger and peril snatches\nat these clues, and in a moment the two fall into one another\u2019s arms.\nFinally, the clear-headed persistence of Ion is met by what may in truth\nbe called a _dea ex machina_.[589] Over the temple fa\u00e7ade is protruded\nthe gigantic head[590] of a figure, through which some one offers\nsuch fumbling \u201cexplanations\u201d as are possible. All this is enough for\nCreusa\u2014she has a son. As for Ion, whose life has been in his faith, he\ncommits himself to nothing; in one day he has grown to the full stature\nof a man, but one hardly supposes that he visited Delphi again. Thus may\nVerrall\u2019s theory be summarized. It has never been answered, nor does it\nseem possible to make any answer, except that the alleged real story is\n\u201cfar-fetched\u201d\u2014of course; for any rationalistic explanation of a supposed\nmiracle must be strange, otherwise no one would have hitherto believed\nthe miracle in order to account for the facts.\n\nThe \u201ctheological background\u201d then being merely theatrical gauze and\ncanvas, what of the human action? Though it forms an extraordinarily\nbrilliant, powerful, fascinating spectacle, is it a tragedy?\u2014the story\nends with the appearance at any rate of joy and contentment. Yet tragedy\nis found not only in the death of the body but in the death of ideals;\nand the destruction of Ion\u2019s faith in his all-knowing unerring father is\na fate from which, when we remember his happy carolling upon the dawn-lit\ntemple-steps, we could wish to see him saved even by the Gorgon\u2019s venom.\nAny out-cry wherewith he might have challenged Creusa\u2019s is checked by\nthe cold disgust which fills him at the sound of Athena\u2019s bland periods;\nbut one knows the kind of man Athens will receive to-morrow\u2014one who will\nagree with Xuthus that \u201cthese things don\u2019t happen,\u201d[591] who will be\nan admirable connoisseur of party politics,[592] but who has lost his\nvision. This, then, is spiritually, though not technically, a tragedy.\nFurther, it is technically a melodrama. That is, the external form and\ntexture is calculated to produce not as in tragedy simple, profound,\nand enduring exaltation, but more superficial, violent, and transitory\nemotion. The P\u00e6dagogus is pure melodrama, witness his change from\nsenile helplessness[593] to ruthless vigour,[594] the wildness of his\nsuggestions\u2014\u201cburn down the temple\u201d ... \u201cmurder your husband\u201d; the utter\nabsence of remorse and secondary interests, characteristic of villainous\nsubordinates in melodrama; his complete breakdown when it is demanded by\nthe plot.[595] Such also is the confrontation of Ion and Creusa with the\nterrified women and scowling Delphians as a background. But the finest\nthrill, and the touch least justified by any standards save those of\nmelodrama, occurs in the speech of Ion as he stands with the fateful\nbasket in his arms and determines not to open it but to dedicate it to\nApollo. The next moment he reflects that he must carry out the god\u2019s will\nand discover his origin. The genuine plot halts so as to cause theatrical\nsensation.\n\nIt is natural in such a play that the characterization should be simple.\nXuthus, the P\u00e6dagogus, and the Prophetess, are scarcely more than foils\nto the two chief persons. Creusa attracts us rather because the poet has\nso well portrayed woman than because he has created a particular woman.\nMore than this can be said of Ion. He is marked out from all the other\npersons of this play by sheer intelligence, by the power of facing facts,\nand of constantly readjusting his perspective.[596] He is a figure of\nsomewhat quaint pathos. The happy child who sings to the birds on the\ntemple-steps and thinks of nothing but his tranquil existence of pious\nroutine, turns in a moment to the discreet adviser who can imagine\nincredible things: \u201cThere is no man who will transmit to thee response to\nsuch a question. For were he in his own house proved a villain, Ph\u0153bus\nwould justly wreak mishap upon him that gave thee such reply.\u201d[597] As\nhe moves to and fro, filling the holy-water stoups, we can hear him\nmurmuring to himself serene blasphemies. \u201cBut I must blame Ph\u0153bus. Such\nconduct! Use violence upon maidens, and betray them? Beget children in\nsecret and leave them to die? Come, come! Since you have the power,\nremember its responsibility. You punish mankind for wrong-doing\u201d ...[598]\nand so forth, including the suggestion that if Zeus, Poseidon, and Apollo\nwere compelled to pay damages for their lustful offences, their temples\nwould become bankrupt. In politics, as in religion, Ion observes and\ndeduces for himself. Athenian public life he well understands before\nentering it;[599] he has views about the influence of perverted religious\nfeelings upon public opinion and the execution of the law.[600] All\nthis prepares us for the splendid moment[601] when forgetting his own\nrule[602] he insists on bearding the oracle, and for the reception he\ngives to the patching-up of Apollo\u2019s infallibility.\n\nFor the rest, the work is a study of emotions deeply conceived and\nwonderfully expressed. Creusa is induced to tell her story, though\ndisguised, to Ion largely by her sudden feeling for the youth\nhimself.[603] The revelation which she makes to the P\u00e6dagogus and the\nchorus is wrung from her after all these years by the sudden loneliness\nwhich the gift of a son to her husband brings upon her heart. And the\ngloriously successful climax[604] where she suddenly addresses her\nexecutioner as her son is purely emotional also. Even the intellectual\nrevolt of Ion is introduced by a sudden turn of the feelings in the\nrecognition-scene: \u201cMother, let my father, too, share in our joy\u201d.[605]\n\nThe TROADES[606] (\u03a4\u03c1\u1ff3\u03ac\u03b4\u03b5\u03c2), or _Trojan Women_, was produced in 415 B.C.\ntogether with _Alexander_, _Palamedes_, and _Sisyphus_ as satyric play.\nThis group obtained the second prize, being defeated by the work of\nXenocles \u201cwhoever he is\u201d.[607]\n\nThe action takes place outside Troy after its capture; in the background\nis a tent wherein are captive Trojan women. Before the tent lies\nHecuba in a stupor of grief. The deities Poseidon and Athena explain\nin a dialogue that they are quitting Troy with reluctance; Poseidon\nwill destroy the Greek fleet on its way home. When they have departed,\nHecuba stirs and laments; soon she is joined by the chorus of Trojan\nwomen. Talthybius tells her that Cassandra is to become the concubine of\nAgamemnon; concerning Polyxena he speaks evasively; Andromache is given\nto Neoptolemus, Hecuba herself to Odysseus, whom she detests above all\nGreeks. Cassandra rushes forward uttering in frenzy a horrible parody of\na marriage-song in her own honour; she prophesies the woes of Agamemnon\nand Odysseus. Hecuba ponders her former greatness and present misery;\nthe chorus sing the fatal day when Troy welcomed the Wooden Horse.\nAndromache and her infant Astyanax are brought in, and from her Hecuba\nhears Polyxena\u2019s death. Though prostrated by grief she urges Andromache\nto please her new lord, that perchance his son may revive something of\nTroy\u2019s greatness. Talthybius returns with tidings that Astyanax is to be\nhurled from the battlements. After an ode on the first siege of Troy,\nMenelaus enters rejoicing in his long-deferred opportunity of slaying\nHelen. Hecuba bursts into rapturous thanks to the Power which rules\nmankind, and when Helen pleads innocence refutes her bitterly. Talthybius\nbrings in the mangled body of Astyanax over which Hecuba utters a speech\nof reproachful lament. The play ends with the burning of Troy.\n\nIn structure archaic, this play is in spirit something quite new to the\nAttic stage. On the one hand there is little unfolding of a plot; we are\nreminded strongly of the _Prometheus_ by the portrayal of a situation\nwhich changes with extreme slowness. It is the manner of this portrayal\nwhich is new and terrible. The _Troades_ was performed after the sack\nof Melos and before the departure of the Sicilian expedition; it is a\nstatement, by a member of the nation which annihilated Melos, of the\nhorrors wherewith the vanquished are overwhelmed. The glory won by the\nGreeks who overthrew Troy was the best-known and most cherished gift\nof tradition. Now a Greek writer reveals the other side of conquest.\nAfter the crime of Melos, Euripides never felt as he had felt towards\nAthens or Greece. His intellect and his heart were appalled by the cold\nferocity of which his fellows showed themselves every year more capable.\nHitherto he has attacked the evils of human nature; now he impeaches one\ndefinite nation, and that his own. No spectator could doubt that \u201cTroy\u201d\nis Melos, \u201cthe Greeks\u201d Athens. Such uncompromising hostility must have\nproduced deep effects on so impressionable an assembly. For it is not\nmerely a denunciation; it is a threat. The poet takes the whole picture\nof misery and stupid tyranny, and puts it into sinister perspective in\nhis prologue. All the cruelties of the play are committed by the Greeks\nunder shadow of the calamity denounced against them by the deities of\nthe prologue, whereof we are again and again reminded by the sentences\ncasually dropped by Talthybius and others, that the host is eager to\nembark. And this when the great Athenian armament was itself thronging\nthe Peir\u00e6us in preparation for the voyage to Sicily.[608]\n\nOf characterization, therefore, little is to be found. Cassandra,\nthough her pathos is less deep and wide than that of her namesake in\nthe _Agamemnon_, is yet valuable, as aiding in that perspective which\nis given mainly by the prologue. Talthybius and Andromache are ably\nsketched, but Menelaus and Helen are introduced merely for the sake of\nthe elaborate dispute between Hecuba and Helen. It is upon Hecuba that\nthe whole poem hangs\u2014not upon her action or even her character, but upon\nher capacity for suffering. With the progress of the play she changes\nfrom the Queen of Troy to a figure summing up in herself all the sorrows\nof humanity. As each woe is faced, lamented, and at last assimilated\ninto an ennobling experience, another disaster flings her back into\nthe primitive outcry to begin once more the task of resignation. She\nis a pagan _mater dolorosa_. As each billow of grief descends upon\nher, leaving her still sentient, nay, filled with eager sympathy for\nothers, the Greeks who oppress her become strangely puny and unreal\nlike the legionaries in some medi\u00e6val picture of martyrdom. Even when\nshe confesses to complete despair she yet the next moment begins to\nfashion within the abyss a tiny abode for hope: Astyanax may grow to\nmanhood, \u201cso that\u2014if chance is kind\u2014sons of thy blood may dwell again\nin Ilium, and there might yet be a city\u201d.[609] Next moment the child is\ntorn away to be flung from the battlements. Even so, Hecuba recovers her\nbalance in the end and can deliver, as she stands over the little body,\nthe stinging reproach[610] of a \u201cbarbarian\u201d revolted by the crimes of\n\u201ccivilization\u201d.[611] It is to this endless capacity for facing sorrow\nand transmuting it into rich experience that we owe one of the most\nbeautiful and definite philosophic _dicta_ to be found in Euripides:\u2014\n\n    \u1f66 \u03b3\u1fc6\u03c2 \u1f44\u03c7\u03b7\u03bc\u03b1, \u03ba\u1f00\u03c0\u1f76 \u03b3\u1fc6\u03c2 \u1f14\u03c7\u03c9\u03bd \u1f15\u03b4\u03c1\u03b1\u03bd\n    \u1f45\u03c3\u03c4\u03b9\u03c2 \u03c0\u03bf\u03c4\u2019 \u03b5\u1f36 \u03c3\u03cd, \u03b4\u03c5\u03c3\u03c4\u03cc\u03c0\u03b1\u03c3\u03c4\u03bf\u03c2 \u03b5\u1f30\u03b4\u03ad\u03bd\u03b1\u03b9,\n    \u0396\u03b5\u03cd\u03c2, \u03b5\u1f34\u03c4\u2019 \u1f00\u03bd\u03ac\u03b3\u03ba\u03b7 \u03c6\u03cd\u03c3\u03b5\u03bf\u03c2, \u03b5\u1f34\u03c4\u03b5 \u03bd\u03bf\u1fe6\u03c2 \u03b2\u03c1\u03bf\u03c4\u1ff6\u03bd,\n    \u03c0\u03c1\u03bf\u03c3\u03b7\u03c5\u03be\u03ac\u03bc\u03b7\u03bd \u03c3\u03b5\u00b7 \u03c0\u03ac\u03bd\u03c4\u03b1 \u03b3\u1f70\u03c1 \u03b4\u03b9\u2019 \u1f00\u03c8\u03cc\u03c6\u03bf\u03c5\n    \u03b2\u03b1\u03af\u03bd\u03c9\u03bd \u03ba\u03b5\u03bb\u03b5\u03cd\u03b8\u03bf\u03c5 \u03ba\u03b1\u03c4\u1f70 \u03b4\u03af\u03ba\u03b7\u03bd \u03c4\u1f70 \u03b8\u03bd\u03ae\u03c4\u2019 \u1f04\u03b3\u03b5\u03b9\u03c2.[612]\n\n\u201cO Throne of earth, by earth upheld, whosoe\u2019er Thou art, beyond\nconjecture of our knowledge\u2014Zeus, or the law of Nature, or the mind of\nMan, to Thee do I address my prayer; for moving along Thy soundless path\nThou dost guide all mortal life with justice.\u201d As for the Olympian gods,\nthey are scarcely attacked; there is little more than a jaded recognition\nthat belief in them is no help or inspiration.[613] To this plaintive\nagnosticism there is here no alternative but fierce pessimism, as when in\nthe frightful eloquence of Hecuba we are told that Fate is \u201ca capering\nidiot\u201d.[614]\n\nMost mournful of all Greek tragedies, this is yet beautiful, and full\nof splendid spectacular effects: Cassandra bounding wildly forth with\nher bridal torches; the entry of Andromache seated in the waggon among\nthe spoils of Troy; Hecuba bending over Astyanax\u2019 body within the great\nbuckler of his father; the little procession which carries the shield to\nburial, princely robes hanging therefrom; and the aged queen addressing\nher farewell to the blazing city.\n\nIPHIGENIA IN TAURIS[615] (\u1f38\u03c6\u03b9\u03b3\u03ad\u03bd\u03b5\u03b9\u03b1 \u1f21 \u1f10\u03bd \u03a4\u03b1\u03cd\u03c1\u03bf\u03b9\u03c2) or _Iphigenia among\nthe Taurians_, is a work of uncertain date.[616] Nothing is known of its\nsuccess when produced, and the absence of scholia suggests that it was\nnot popular in later times.\n\nIphigenia, before the temple of Artemis among the Taurians (in South\nRussia), relates that she was not slain at Aulis, but brought by Artemis\nto serve as her priestess here, close to the city of King Thoas, where\nshe is compelled to sacrifice all strangers. A dream has suggested to her\nthat her brother Orestes is dead; she goes within to prepare offerings to\nhis shade. Orestes and Pylades enter; they have been sent by the Delphian\noracle to steal the image of Artemis; in this way Orestes will be freed\nfrom the Furies. They postpone their attempt till nightfall, and retire.\nThe chorus of Greek captive maidens enter in attendance upon Iphigenia,\nand a cowherd brings news that two Greeks have been captured and are\nbeing brought for sacrifice. After a choric ode, the rustics enter with\ntheir prisoners. A conversation follows, in which neither Iphigenia\u2019s\nname nor that of Orestes is revealed, and she offers to spare his life\nif he will take a letter to Argos. He insists that Pylades shall go, and\nthe latter asks that the message be read. It proves to be an appeal to\nOrestes, and, exclaiming that he will at once perform his task, Pylades\nhands it to his friend. Brother and sister thus become known to one\nanother, and all three agree to escape, taking the image with them. They\nenter the temple, after Iphigenia has enjoined secrecy upon the chorus,\nwho sing their yearning for home. King Thoas enters and is tricked by\nIphigenia into aiding the escape. The chorus sing Apollo\u2019s conquest\nof Delphi. A messenger rushes in, seeking Thoas; the chorus misdirect\nhim, but in vain. Thoas learns how his people have been beguiled into\nallowing the Greeks to embark. However, a contrary wind is even now\ndriving them back. Thoas is preparing to hunt the fugitives down when\nAthena appears and stops him; he is, moreover, commanded to send the\nGreek maidens home. He consents, and the play ends with the joy of the\nchorus.\n\nThis drama is one of the finest among Euripides\u2019 works. It provides a\nmarked contrast with the _Troades_; there is bitterness here indeed, but\nit is the bitterness of Voltaire rather than that of Swift. And whereas\nin the former play plot is almost non-existent, here it is vital. Perhaps\nthe most brilliant piece of construction in Euripides is the celebrated\nRecognition-scene of this drama. Indeed the whole tragedy is the story of\na plot, skilful and breathless. Iphigenia\u2019s method\u2014to deceive by telling\nthe truth (about Orestes\u2019 matricide)\u2014was particularly dear to Greeks,\nconnoisseurs of falsehood both in life and in literature; so beautifully\ndoes she succeed that (partly for her own amusement) she tells the king\nfurther the news she has just heard concerning her brother\u2019s welfare. But\nthe poet is no more the slave of his wit than of his sympathies, and we\nare brought to realization of the facts\u2014namely, that the three Greeks are\nthieves and Iphigenia a traitress\u2014by her own self-mockery: \u201cFalsehood,\nthy name is Hellas,\u201d[617] and by the simple generosity with which the\nprince accepts her suggestions.\n\nThe second feature of importance is the atmosphere of adventure. A\nstrange grim glamour lies upon this story of breathless dangers in a\nregion which is itself a mystery and a menace. We must forget modern\nnotions about South Russia, lines of steamboats, and Odessa as civilized\nas Hull. This kingdom of Thoas is as remote from Athens as Thibet or the\nUpper Congo from us; indeed at many points we recall the African stories\nof Sir Rider Haggard. Amid these ghastly altars, the secret fire and the\ncleft of death,[618] deserted seas and bloodthirsty savages, there is an\ninfinite painful sweetness in Orestes\u2019 reminder of a dusty heirloom in\nhis sister\u2019s bedchamber at home.[619] The poem is filled with suggestions\nof remoteness, the heaving of strange billows, legendary landing-places.\nFlowing from this is the home-sickness which breaks out again and again,\nin Pylades\u2019 recollection, during his worst agony, of the winding Phocian\nglens,[620] and in the lyric songs where the Greek captives long to fly\nhomeward with the halcyon to the hallowed places of Greece.[621]\n\nBut not only does religion as a radiant emotion setting a glow around\n\u201cthe hill of Cynthus\u201d and the \u201ccircling mere\u201d mark the play. Euripides\nhere, as so often, treats religion intellectually as well as emotionally.\nBy the lips of Orestes he passes judgment upon Olympian religion as a\nguide of conduct. Taking the story of \u00c6schylus, he acts not as a lesser\nunbeliever would have acted; he does not dub the reconciliation of the\n_Eumenides_ a delusion. With a studiously bungling air he explains\nthat one section of the Furies was appeased, and the other not.[622]\nIf the manner of this revision is delightfully impudent, the intention\nis deadly. Orestes has been sent away by the Delphian priests to _do_\nsomething, to seek and undergo, if possible, a physiological effect\nsimply through the excitement of a far journey. We are very near to\nthe \u201clong holiday and change of air\u201d. The Furies exist nowhere but in\nhis own brain. On the Athenian Areopagus he went through a climax of\nhallucination. Surrounded by stray animals,[623] he saw in imagination\nall the tremendous events imagined by \u00c6schylus as objective reality. His\nmind only partly cleared by this paroxysm, he fled back to Delphi for\ncomplete healing. The \u201coracle\u201d sent him to the remotest region known to\nGreeks, to a land, moreover, where the natives are wont to murder all\nstrangers. Ph\u0153bus is ashamed of his \u201cformer responses\u201d and seeks to be\nrid of his too obedient, too persistent devotee.[624] Such is the opinion\nof Orestes himself when at last in the \u201ctoils,\u201d[625] and the whole\nwork (with an exception presently to be noticed) is pervaded by this\nunflinching rationalism. The pious herdsmen who see marine deities in the\nGreek visitors are laughed to scorn by a companion who, though dubbed \u201ca\nfool reckless and irreverent,\u201d[626] is entirely justified. Iphigenia\u2019s\nreflections[627] on the human sacrifices of the Tauri lead her to acquit\nthe goddess of \u201csuch folly\u201d and to attribute this practice to ferocious\nsavages who make gods in their own image. At one point indeed simple\nfaith is justified. Orestes when faced by death is comforted by his\nfriend: \u201cThe god\u2019s oracle hath not yet destroyed thee, close as thou dost\nstand to slaughter\u201d.[628] In a moment Orestes is free from peril at the\npriestess\u2019 hands. But no one, least of all Euripides, expects even the\n\u201cgods\u201d to blunder always. Finally, the ode on Apollo\u2019s conquest of Delphi\nis a delicate but pungent satire: the \u201coracle\u201d is a magnificent trade\nconnexion.[629]\n\nThis cynical clearness is a guide in studying the exceptional passage\nabove mentioned: in the last scene orthodox piety is upheld by the\napparition of Athena. Does then the _Iphigenia_ in the end refute the\nrationalism impressed on it almost everywhere? We can take our choice,\naccepting Athena, Apollo\u2019s divinity, and all the other traditional\ngarnishments, but stultifying many passages, and the tone of nine-tenths\nof the play; or we can accept the latter as a thrilling and pathetic\nstudy in human superstition and intrepidity, but reject Athena as a\nconventional phantom. In this latter case we shall, with Dr. Verrall,\nconsider that the play, for all artistic and intelligible purposes, ends\nat v. 1434, leaving Thoas to capture and destroy the Greeks. Many will\nfind such a choice difficult. The _Iphigenia_ is certainly not as clear a\ncase as the _Orestes_, to say nothing of the _Ion_. But it is difficult\nto believe that here he has composed a magnificent play to bolster up\ntheology which elsewhere he strenuously attacks. Nevertheless, the speech\nof Athena is not in itself contradictory or ludicrous.\n\nThe mental pathology\u2014it can hardly be called the character\u2014of Orestes,\ndeserves close study. He provides an admirable instance of that skill in\nportraying madness for which Euripides was famed.[630] A man of strong\nsimple instincts, he is shaken terribly by the murderous events of his\nchildhood. His brain is overthrown by the sway of the hierarchy and by\nthe deeds to which he was impelled. From this overthrow he never quite\nrecovered, as the dramatist himself carefully indicates.[631] Throughout\nthe _Iphigenia_ we discern, drawn with extraordinary skill and tact, the\nstruggle between the old obsession and an intellect originally clear and\nacute. The prologue, when he explores the ground with Pylades, shows him\n(in spite of a ghastly brilliance of thought fit only for frenzy or the\nnightmare[632]) possessed of shrewdness which, if consistently applied,\nwould have saved him from the expedition altogether. Later he is seen\nhurled by the excitement of his quest into complete, though temporary,\ninsanity[633]\u2014a fit which throws back strange light upon his \u201ctrial\u201d at\nAthens and provides a comment upon the later scene,[634] where, though at\nthe moment sane, he yet believes in the delusive experience. Everywhere\nwe find this superstructure of sanity on an insane foundation. Though\nhe can see through the \u201coracle\u201d as clearly as any man with regard to\nits past deceptions, he is pathetically enthusiastic for the latest\nnostrum.[635] The long account[636] of his sorrows which he gives his\nsister is full of such sinister meaning. He essays to describe the origin\nof the court which tried him: \u201cThere is a holy ... _vote_,[637] which\nlong ago Zeus founded for Ares owing to some blood-guiltiness, whatever\nit was....\u201d He has forgotten half the facts, and bungles the rest. This\nspeech, full of obscurity, irrelevancy, and disconnected thought, is\npractically ignored by his sister, who realizes his condition both from\nthe report of the herdsman and from the occasional lunacy he manifests in\nconversation.[638] Orestes, too, knows[639] how it is with him, and the\ncomplete absence of lament on his part when faced with death is one of\nthe grimmest things in the drama.\n\nThe ELECTRA[640] (\u1f28\u03bb\u03ad\u03ba\u03c4\u03c1\u03b1) was probably acted in 413 B.C.[641] The scene\nis laid before the cottage of a peasant, who explains that he is the\nhusband of Electra, but in name only; she comes forth and they depart\nto their several tasks. Orestes and Pylades arrive; Orestes has come\nat Apollo\u2019s bidding to avenge his father, at whose tomb he has offered\nsacrifice. Seeing Electra they retire. She is invited to a festival by\nthe chorus of Argive women, but refuses, urging her sorrow and poverty.\nThe two strangers approach, Orestes pretending that he has been sent\nby her brother for tidings of her; she gives him a passionate message\nbegging Orestes to exact vengeance. The peasant returns and sends the\nstrangers within as his guests; the chorus sing the expedition to Troy.\nAn aged shepherd enters with the provisions for which Electra sent,\nand tells her that he has seen upon Agamemnon\u2019s tomb a sacrifice and\na votive lock of hair. He in vain seeks to convince Electra that her\nbrother must be in Argos, but later recognizes Orestes by a scar. Brother\nand sister embrace with joy; after passionate prayers to Agamemnon\u2019s\nshade he departs to seek \u00c6gisthus. The chorus sing the crime of Thyestes\nwhich caused sun and stars to change their course. A messenger relates\nhow \u00c6gisthus has been cut down by Orestes in the midst of a religious\nservice; the avengers return with the body, over which Electra gloats.\nClyt\u00e6mnestra is seen approaching, lured by a story that Electra has given\nbirth to a child. Orestes feels remorse, but is hardened by his sister,\nwho awaits her mother alone. A dispute follows about the queen\u2019s past,\nbut Clyt\u00e6mnestra refuses to quarrel, and goes within to perform the\nbirth-ritual. Soon her cries are heard, and Orestes and Electra re-enter,\nfilled with grief and shame. In the sky appear Castor and Polydeuces\n(Pollux), brothers of Clyt\u00e6mnestra, who blame the matricide, which\nthey attribute to Apollo; then they depart to the Sicilian sea to save\nmariners who are righteous and unperjured.\n\nSpecial interest clings to this play, because here only can we see\nEuripides traversing precisely the same ground as \u00c6schylus (in the\n_Choephor\u0153_) and Sophocles (in the _Electra_), This similarity of subject\nlong damaged Euripides\u2019 play in the eyes of critics. It was assumed that\nthe youngest poet was imitating his forerunners, and it needed small\nacumen to observe that the imitation was bad. Whereupon, instead of\nwondering whether perhaps Euripides was after all not copying others,\ncritics proceeded to write cheerful nonsense about \u201cfrivolity\u201d and \u201ca\nprofound falling off in art and taste\u201d.[642] The fact simply is that\neach of these three tragedians discussed the story from a different\nviewpoint. \u00c6schylus treated it as a religious fact, Sophocles as an\nemotional fact, Euripides as an ethical fact. \u00c6schylus is on the side of\nApollo, Sophocles on the side of Electra, Euripides on the side of no\none. He asks himself what circumstances, what perversions of character,\ncan result in this matricide.\n\nHence his careful study of Clyt\u00e6mnestra, Electra, and Orestes, so careful\nthat a reader at first supposes the poet a partisan of Clyt\u00e6mnestra.\nNot so; he has merely tried to understand her. A placid woman of quick\nbut shallow affections, she was abandoned by her husband for ten years\nto the memory of a murdered daughter. Delightfully characteristic is\nher argument: \u201cSuppose Menelaus had been stolen from home; would it\nhave been right for me to slay Orestes that Helen might regain her\nhusband?\u201d[643] Vigorous and damaging, this is yet tinged with comedy by\nits raw novelty and precision. One almost overhears the _comm\u00e8rages_ of\nthe street-corner. When Agamemnon brought back openly a concubine to his\nhome, Clyt\u00e6mnestra assisted[644] her lover in anticipating the king\u2019s\nrevenge by murdering him. From this act she has drifted into condoning\ncruelty against her unoffending children; throughout she has acted\nwickedly and acquiesced in worse conduct by others. Nevertheless, she is\nno figure of tragedy; she only suggests tragedy because she is the mother\nof her executioners. Her chief love is placid domesticity; if this can be\nobtained only by murdering those who threaten it, that is very terrible,\nbut the world is notoriously imperfect. Clyt\u00e6mnestra cannot, and will\nnot, meet Electra on the tragic plane. Her daughter\u2019s great outburst and\nthreat of murderous vengeance she meets in this comfortable fashion: \u201cMy\nchild, it was always your nature to love your father. It often happens\nso. Some favour the male side, while others love their mother rather\nthan their father. I forgive you: for in truth I rejoice not greatly,\nchild, in the acts that I have done.... But you!\u2014unwashed and shabby in\nattire!\u201d ... And so forth. Clyt\u00e6mnestra is almost as ill-tuned to the\natmosphere which Electra constantly and deliberately creates as Sancho\nPanza to the high converse of his master. The queen has been summoned to\nher daughter\u2019s cottage by report of a newly-born infant. She shows her\nnatural goodness of heart by hurrying thither at once (though of course\nshe has not the taste to leave her gorgeous retinue behind) and doing\nall she can to comfort and help her daughter. By this time she has all\nunconsciously \u201ctaken the wind out of the sails\u201d of the avengers. But\nElectra can maintain her grimness and actually utter black hints of a\nwedding-bed in the grave![645] We turn next to her; what manner of woman\ncan this be?\n\nElectra is one of Euripides\u2019 most vivid and successful female characters.\nShe has strong claims on our pity and sympathy, but fails to win them.\nHer mother is a ready victim of any emotion which breathes upon her;\nElectra has settled her position emotionally, intellectually, morally,\nyears ago. Nothing can alter her; she is the victim and the apostle of\nan _id\u00e9e fixe_. The crimes of love are no less frightful than the crimes\nof hate; in Electra affection for Agamemnon has become the basis of\ncold ferocity against Clyt\u00e6mnestra. It is Orestes who shrinks when the\ndeed is to be done, Electra who braces his resolution. She has borne no\nchild. Instead of beginning a new life in her children, looking to the\nfuture, she has fed morbidly upon memories, stiffening natural grief and\nresentment into permanent inhuman morosity. Clyt\u00e6mnestra has blandly\noutlived two murders in her own family, and remains neither unamiable nor\nuninteresting; but it is impossible to imagine what Electra will do, say,\nor think, after the events of to-day. This unnatural self-concentration,\nwhich means not only her mother\u2019s death but her own spiritual suicide,\nis mainly the result of her childlessness. And it is on this that\nEuripides lays his finger. \u201cAnnounce that I have given birth to a male\nchild.... Then, when she has come, of course it is her death.\u201d[646]\nThis plot of Electra is possibly the most brilliantly skilful and most\nterrible stroke in all the poet\u2019s work. It indicates the source of her\nheartlessness, it provides an excellent dramatic motive for the queen\u2019s\narrival, and it shows, as nothing else could show, the fiendishness of\na woman who can use just this pretext to the very woman who gave her\nbirth. She relies upon the sanctity of motherhood to aid her in trampling\nupon it. Her first words, as she slips forth to join her husband beneath\nthe star-lit sky, show how the heavens themselves remind her that she\nhas had no infant at her breast during the night-watches: \u201cBlack Night,\nthou _Nurse_ of golden stars\u201d.[647] Moreover, not only does she feel her\nsorrows, she enjoys the sense of martyrdom. Her wrongs and present trials\nshe is capable of exaggerating;[648] at every opportunity she exploits\nthem for purposes of self-pity, as her husband hints more than once.[649]\n\nOrestes, living in exile, has escaped the blight of Electra only to\nbecome a criminal with no illusions, proud of his worldly experience,\nwitness the blundering disquisition on \u201cthe true gentleman,\u201d[650] and his\ncynical comments on his humble brother-in-law.[651] His onslaught upon\n\u00c6gisthus from behind proves him at the best deficient in gallantry, and\non the matricide itself nothing need be said. We can pity Orestes for his\nfearful position, but he is a poor creature. The _Electra_, in fact, is\na clear-sighted attack upon the morality of blood-feuds. The poet feels\nthat \u00c6gisthus and Clyt\u00e6mnestra, left so long unmolested, should have\nbeen left alone still; if Apollo at Delphi, and the peasant in his Argive\ncottage, had estimated human nature more wisely, this horror would have\nbeen escaped, and no harm done. To punish the guilty is not always a\nvirtue; often it is a debauch of self-glory, and sometimes the worst of\nvillainies.\n\nAs always, the poet regards the \u201coracle,\u201d which commanded matricide, as\nan offence to civilization. But there is novelty in the extreme candour\nwith which this is put forward. The Dioscuri repeatedly stigmatize its\nmurderous command as \u201cfoolishness\u201d or worse.[652] Equally outspoken\nare the chorus, who devote the last stanza of their lovely song on\nthe Golden Lamb and Thyestes\u2019 crime to a brilliant denial of its\ntruth.... \u201cBut legends that fill men with dread are profitable to divine\nworship\u201d[653]\u2014it is admirably put, and may rank with the epigrams of\nOvid[654] and Voltaire.[655] As for the Dioscuri, it is impossible to\nspeak without affection of such quaint and charming figures. Their\nconverse with Electra and the chorus is an irresistible combination of\ndignity and a breezy contempt for official reticence. In his first long\n_ex cathedra_ speech Castor is on the verge of saying what he really\nthinks of Ph\u0153bus Apollo, remembers himself just in time, and then\u2014gives a\nbroad hint after all.[656] In the less formal talk which follows, these\nbluff naval deities show a soundness of heart and a simplicity as to\nthe meaning of great affairs which recall delightfully the traditional\nnautical character of modern literature. The anguish of brother and\nsister who after long years meet for a few frightful hours only to part\nfor ever awakes their instant deep sympathy.[657] On the other side these\nsubordinate deities are assuredly in a maze as to the theological problem\ninto which they have strayed. \u201cHow was it,\u201d ask the Argive women, very\npertinently, \u201cthat you, being gods and brothers of the woman that hath\nperished, did not repel destruction from the house?\u201d Electra, too, would\nknow why she was involved in the matricide. In answer the Brethren offer\na bundle of reasons some one of which ought surely to be right: \u201cthe\nfate of necessity,\u201d \u201cthe guidance of doom,\u201d \u201cthe foolish utterances of\nPh\u0153bus\u2019 tongue,\u201d \u201ca partnership in act and in destiny,\u201d \u201cthe ancestral\ncurse\u201d.[658] Even if traditional phrases could solve the problem of human\nsin, these simple souls are not qualified to use or expound them.\n\nOne incident in the _Electra_ is of particular interest to the historian\nof literature. The p\u00e6dagogus seeks to convince Electra that the\nmysterious visitor to Agamemnon\u2019s tomb is her brother. He offers certain\nevidences which she contemptuously rejects. There can be no doubt that\nthis scene is a criticism of the Recognition in \u00c6schylus\u2019 _Choephor\u0153_.\nThe severed lock of hair, the footprint, and the embroidered cloth,\nappear in both scenes. Electra rejects all these clues. How can the hair\nof an athletic man resemble the soft tresses of a woman? Is not a man\u2019s\nfoot larger than a woman\u2019s? Will the full-grown Orestes wear the same\ngarment as an infant? But Euripides\u2019 attack is probably mistaken.[659]\nWe may suppose that \u00c6schylus could have seen these objections; and it\nis quite possible that tradition told of physical peculiarities in the\nPelopid family. As for the embroidered garment, \u00c6schylus does not call it\nso. It may well have been a cloth preserved by Orestes. However this may\nbe, we have here the most distinct example of Euripides\u2019 criticism of an\nearlier poet.\n\nHELEN[660] (\u1f19\u03bb\u03ad\u03bd\u03b7), or _Helena_, was produced in 412 B.C. The scene\nrepresents the palace of Theoclymenus, the young Egyptian king, with the\ntomb of his father Proteus. Helen relates that Hera gave Paris a phantom\nin place of the true Helen. While Greeks and Trojans fought for a wraith,\nshe herself has lived in Egypt, waiting for Menelaus. Theoclymenus now\nseeks her hand; she has taken sanctuary in Proteus\u2019 tomb. Teucer enters\nto consult Theonoe, the king\u2019s prophetess-sister. On seeing Helen he\nbarely refrains from shooting her, but realizing his \u201cmistake\u201d talks\nwith the stranger, revealing that Menelaus and \u201cHelen\u201d have apparently\nbeen lost at sea. Helen sends him off and breaks into lamentation for\nMenelaus, but is advised by the chorus of captive Greek maidens to\nconsult the omniscient Theonoe. She agrees, and they accompany her into\nthe palace. Menelaus enters, a pitiable shipwrecked figure. He has left\n\u201cHelen\u201d and his comrades in hiding, and is looking for help. When he\nknocks at the palace-door the portress repels him with the warning that\nthe king is hostile to Greeks because Helen is within his house. Menelaus\nis thunderstruck, but determines to await Theoclymenus. The chorus and\nHelen return in joy, for Menelaus, they learn, still lives. Menelaus\ncomes forward; after a moment his wife recognizes and would embrace him,\nbut he repels the stranger. One of his companions arrives announcing\nthat \u201cHelen\u201d has vanished. As he ends his tale he sees the true Helen,\nwho he supposes has played a practical joke; but Menelaus falls into her\narms. They plot escape, but realize that all depends upon the omniscient\nTheonoe; she comes forth, and, explaining that she has a casting-vote in\na dispute which to-day takes place in Heaven between Hera and Aphrodite,\ndecides to aid the suppliants. When she has withdrawn it is arranged\nthat Menelaus shall pretend he is the sole survivor, Menelaus being\ndrowned; Helen is to gain permission to offer funeral-rites at sea. The\nchorus raise a beautiful song concerning Helen\u2019s woes and the Trojan war.\nTheoclymenus enters and is easily hoodwinked. After an ode on Demeter\u2019s\nsearch for Persephone, the plotters are sent on their way by the king.\nThe chorus sing of Helen\u2019s voyage and pray the Dioscuri to convoy their\nsister. A messenger hurries in and tells of the escape; the Egyptian\ncrew has been massacred by Menelaus\u2019 followers. Theoclymenus would take\nvengeance upon his sister, but is checked by the Dioscuri, who explain\nthat all has occurred by the will of Zeus.\n\nTwo aspects of this play are unmistakable and apparently incompatible.\nThe plot closely resembles that of the _Iphigenia in Tauris_; the\nstyle and manner of treatment are curiously light. What can have been\nEuripides\u2019 purpose in repeating, after so short an interval, a copy of\nthat grim masterpiece, and to execute it in this light-hearted fashion?\nThe _Helen_ is in no possible sense a tragedy. At the point where the\naudience should be spell-bound by suspense and dread\u2014the cajoling of the\nking\u2014we are relieved from all oppression by the facility with which the\ncaptives succeed. Theoclymenus is an imbecile who gives them all they\nneed with his eyes shut. The earlier action is robbed of all power by\nthe superhuman attributes of Theonoe. How can, or need, Helen have any\ndoubts concerning her husband with an all-knowing friend at hand? The\ncentral _datum_, that only a phantom fled to Troy and returned therefrom\nwith Menelaus, is utterly destructive of tragic atmosphere. In the\nRecognition-scene the possibility of pathos is drowned in absurdity: the\nmessenger suddenly turns to find his mistress smiling at his elbow and\ngreets her with relief: \u201cAh, hail, daughter of Leda, here you are after\nall!\u201d[661] Teucer\u2019s scene, besides providing a palmary instance of bad\nconstruction (for his function is merely to cause Helen anxiety about her\nhusband\u2019s fate, which one might have expected to arouse her curiosity\nearlier in the course of these seventeen years), is in itself absurd.\nAfter coming all this distance to consult Theonoe about his route, he is\nsent away happy (without seeing the prophetess) by Helen\u2019s suggestion,\n\u201cYou will pick out your way as you go along\u201d.[662] Equally curious is\nthe diction. Brilliantly idiomatic as are the iambics, they are almost\neverywhere light, loose in texture, almost colloquial. Such things[663]\nas \u03c6\u03ad\u03c1\u2019 \u1f26\u03bd \u03b4\u1f72 \u03b4\u1f74 \u03bd\u1ff7\u03bd \u03bc\u1f74 \u1f00\u03c0\u03bf\u03b4\u03ad\u03be\u03b7\u03c4\u03b1\u03b9 \u03bb\u03cc\u03b3\u03bf\u03c5\u03c2;\u2014\u1f23\u03bd \u03b3\u1f70\u03c1 \u03b5\u1f34\u03c7\u03bf\u03bc\u03b5\u03bd \u03b8\u03ac\u03bb\u03b1\u03c3\u03c3\u2019\n\u1f14\u03c7\u03b5\u03b9\u2014\u03b5\u1f37\u03c2 \u03b3\u1f70\u03c1 \u1f45 \u03b3\u03b5 \u03ba\u03b1\u03c4\u2019 \u03bf\u1f50\u03c1\u03b1\u03bd\u03cc\u03bd, and the silly jingle on \u03bb\u03cc\u03b3\u1ff3 \u03b8\u03b1\u03bd\u03b5\u1fd6\u03bd, are\ntypical of the whole atmosphere. Even the lyrics glow with prettiness\nrather than beauty; lovely as are the Naiad[664] and the Nightingale[665]\nthey mitigate in no degree the flimsiness of the whole.\n\nTheonoe herself, in an outrageous passage,[666] brings the mockery\nto a climax: \u201cThis very day among the gods there is to be strife and\nconference concerning thee before the throne of Zeus. Hera, who was thine\nenemy before, is kindly to thee now, and would bring thee safe to thy\nhome-country with this thy wife, so that Greece may learn how Paris\u2019\nlove, the gift of Cypris, was but a mockery. But Cypris would fain deny\nthee thy home-return, that it may never come to light how in Helen\u2019s case\nshe bought the prize of beauty with bridals that were naught. _And the\ndecision lies with me_, whether, as Cypris wishes, I shall destroy thee\nby revealing thy presence to my brother, or whether I shall join Hera\nand save thy life.\u201d We should be ill-advised to take this in all earnest\nas a ludicrous blasphemy. It is graceful trifling. But what is Theonoe\u2014a\ndread goddess to whom the queen of Heaven sues for aid, or a kind-hearted\nwoman whose strong common-sense might, perhaps, in a circle like that of\nthe dolts and _poseurs_ who fill the stage, raise her to the repute of\nsuperhuman wisdom? She is not all playful. When the honour of her dead\nfather is in question, she stirs the heart by her passionate solemnity:\u2014\n\n    Aye, all that lie in death must meet their bond,\n    And they that live; yea, all. Beyond the grave\n    The mind, though life be gone, is conscious yet\n    Eternal, with th\u2019 eternal Heav\u2019n at one.[667]\n\nThis stands, together with Hecuba\u2019s outburst[668] in the _Trojan Women_,\nas the most explicit statement of personal religion in the extant plays\nof Euripides. In the midst of this farrago of fairy-tale and false\nsentiment, it is doubly startling. The drama is neither tragedy, nor\nmelodrama, nor comedy, nor farce. What are we to think of it?\n\nDr. Verrall[669] would regard it as a burlesque, that is, as a playful\nimitation of serious work, with exaggeration of weak features or\ntendencies. From the facts that one ode[670] has nothing whatever to do\nwith the plot, but with the Mother and the Maid, and that Aristophanes\nparodies the play in his _Celebrants of the Thesmophoria_, wherein\nEuripides is accused of profaning that festival, it is inferred that\n_Helen_ was not written for public presentation, but for private\nperformance at a house on the island of Helene belonging to an Athenian\nlady. The occasion was a gathering of women who had been celebrating\nthe Thesmophoria, and forms Euripides\u2019 playful answer to the charge\nthat he had never depicted a good woman. To prove his zeal, he chooses\nHelen (the least reputable of her sex) and completely rehabilitates her\ncharacter.[671] At the same time he amuses his audience with a parody\nof his own work. The sanctuary of Helen recalls that of Andromache, and\nthe escape that of Iphigenia and her friends. The news of this _tour de\nforce_ spread, and at last, owing to public curiosity, it was exhibited\nat the Dionysia.\n\nThere is no doubt (i) that the _Helen_ is not serious either in intention\nor execution; (ii) that there is good evidence for supposing a connexion\nbetween the play and the festival of the Mother and the Maid, the\nThesmophoria; (iii) that Aristophanes\u2019 jokes about Proteus-Proteas and\nthe rest do support the view that Euripides has in his mind the history\nof a family who have nothing to do with Menelaus and Helen; (iv) that in\nthe play there are points, such as \u201cEido\u201d (the baby-name of Theonoe),\nwhich are irrelevant to the story. Are we, then, to accept Verrall\u2019s\naccount? The sound view would appear to be that Euripides offered to\nthe Archon a work which for once was a burlesque. So sincere a thinker\nas Euripides was certain sooner or later to attack himself, at any rate\nto examine his position and methods with humorous detachment. So far we\nmay, we must, go with Verrall; the elaborate and delightfully detailed\ndevelopment we can hardly accept\u2014the evidence is not sufficiently strong.\n\nBut the poet is making fun not only of himself. The false Helen and her\ndisappearance at a crisis in the action, are not merely miracles of a\ntype in which he utterly disbelieves; they are features which even a\nbeliever would remove as far as possible into the background. In handling\nthis fairy-tale with such _na\u00efvet\u00e9_, he is possibly laughing at some\nindiscreet fellow-dramatist;[672] certainly he is ridiculing the popular\nbelief in such legends. Helen herself cannot credit the tale of Leda\nand the Swan.[673] When given the choice between two accounts of her\nbrothers\u2019 fate, she prefers the non-miraculous version.[674] Even the\ndramatist\u2019s own dislike of soothsayers is elaborately expounded by the\nGreek messenger and sympathetically echoed by the chorus,[675] absurdly\nenough in a play which contains Theonoe, whom the chorus themselves have\ninduced Helen to consult, and with success; although of course Theonoe\nknows only what could be learned by listening to the talk of Menelaus.\n\nThe PH\u0152NISS\u00c6[676] (\u03a6\u03bf\u03af\u03bd\u03b9\u03c3\u03c3\u03b1\u03b9), or _Ph\u0153nician Women_, was produced about\nthe year 410 B.C. The action takes place before the palace of Thebes.\nJocasta explains that the blind \u0152dipus is kept prisoner there by his sons\nEteocles and Polynices, whom he has therefore cursed with a prayer that\nthey may divide their inheritance with the sword. They have arranged\nto rule for a year by turns; but Eteocles, at the end of his term, has\nrefused to retire and Polynices has brought an army against Thebes.\nJocasta has arranged that the brothers shall meet. When she has gone,\na p\u00e6dagogus shows the Argive host to Antigone from the roof. Next the\nchorus appear, a band of Ph\u0153nician maidens who sing of their voyage\nand of Delphi, their destination. Polynices stealthily enters and is\ngreeted rapturously by his mother; Eteocles follows, and the brothers\nquarrel bitterly and finally. The chorus sing of Cadmus and the harvest\nof warriors. Eteocles comes forth and is advised by Creon to post a\nchampion at each of the seven gates. He agrees, ratifies the betrothal\nof Antigone to H\u00e6mon, and bids Creon consult Tiresias as to the hope of\nvictory; if Polynices falls he is not to be buried in Theban ground.\nThe chorus sing to Ares who has filled the land with war in place of\nthe delightful Dionysiac worship; they celebrate the wondrous history\nof Thebes. Tiresias enters with Creon\u2019s son Men\u0153ceus, and declares that\nvictory can be won only if the youth is sacrificed. Creon arranges to\nsend his son away, but Men\u0153ceus resolves to slay himself. The next ode\ncelebrates the Sphinx, the tale of \u0152dipus, and Men\u0153ceus\u2019 nobility. A\nmessenger brings to Jocasta tidings that her sons are about to engage\nin single combat; she hurries to the spot with Antigone. After a brief\node of suspense, Creon returns mourning for his dead son, and another\nmessenger tells at length how Polynices, Eteocles, and Jocasta have died.\nThebes has won complete victory. The corpses are brought in, followed by\nAntigone, who summons the aged \u0152dipus. Together they bewail the dead till\nCreon breaks in and decrees that Antigone must marry H\u00e6mon, \u0152dipus go\ninto exile, and Polynices remain unburied. Antigone defies him: she will\nbury her brother, she will not marry H\u00e6mon, but will share her father\u2019s\nexile. \u0152dipus as they depart asserts his greatness as the Conqueror of\nthe Sphinx.\n\nThis work was immensely popular in antiquity.[677] It was repeatedly\n\u201crevived\u201d; ancient authors quote from it often; together with the\n_Hecuba_ and the _Orestes_ it formed the final selection of Euripides\u2019\nwork made in Byzantine times; and the scholia are extremely copious.\nBecause of its popularity, the play was considerably expanded by\ninterpolation. It is no mere question of isolated lines inserted by\nactors or copyists, though such appear to be numerous; considerable\nmasses are due to a later poet or poets.\n\nThe following passages[678] are generally suspected:\n\n(i) vv. 88-201, the scene of Antigone and her attendant upon the\nroof-terrace. To this it has been objected[679] that the entrance of\nPolynices should occur as the first event of the play after the closing\nwords of the prologue which mention his expected arrival. This passage\ncontains, moreover, a number of words otherwise unknown which is enormous\nconsidering the length of the scene, and several awkward or strained\nexpressions.\n\n(ii) vv. 1104-40, the description of the seven chieftains as they advance\nupon the gates. It is \u201cfull of obscurities and difficulties,\u201d[680]\nparticularly two elaborate yet frivolous descriptions of shields.\nMoreover, it practically repeats the terrace-scene; both passages can\nhardly be genuine.\n\n(iii) 1223-58 (or 1282), the messenger\u2019s account of preparations for\nthe single combat, followed by the dialogue in which Jocasta calls\nAntigone to accompany her to the field. Not only are there marked faults\nof style;[681] it is impossible, considering the urgency[682] of the\nnews, that the queen should stay for this tedious narrative. Jocasta\u2019s\nconversation with Antigone is by no means so objectionable. It is very\nshort, and the style is not unworthy[683] of Euripides. Nevertheless, it\nis strange that the queen should wait for her daughter at so urgent a\ntime.\n\n(iv) the end of the drama, though at what point the addition begins is\nnot agreed. The last address of \u0152dipus which opens thus[684]:\n\n    \u1f66 \u03c0\u03ac\u03c4\u03c1\u03b1\u03c2 \u03ba\u03bb\u03b5\u03b9\u03bd\u1fc6\u03c2 \u03c0\u03bf\u03bb\u1fd6\u03c4\u03b1\u03b9, \u03bb\u03b5\u03cd\u03c3\u03c3\u03b5\u03c4\u2019, \u039f\u1f30\u03b4\u03af\u03c0\u03bf\u03c5\u03c2 \u1f45\u03b4\u03b5,\n    \u1f43\u03c2 \u03c4\u1f70 \u03ba\u03bb\u03b5\u03af\u03bd\u2019 \u03b1\u1f30\u03bd\u03af\u03b3\u03bc\u03b1\u03c4\u2019 \u1f14\u03b3\u03bd\u03c9 \u03ba\u03b1\u1f76 \u03bc\u03ad\u03b3\u03b9\u03c3\u03c4\u03bf\u03c2 \u1f26\u03bd \u1f00\u03bd\u03ae\u03c1,\n\nunmistakably recalls part of the finale in _\u0152dipus Tyrannus_:[685]\n\n    \u1f66 \u03c0\u03ac\u03c4\u03c1\u03b1\u03c2 \u0398\u03ae\u03b2\u03b7\u03c2 \u1f14\u03bd\u03bf\u03b9\u03ba\u03bf\u03b9, \u03bb\u03b5\u03cd\u03c3\u03c3\u03b5\u03c4\u2019, \u039f\u1f30\u03b4\u03af\u03c0\u03bf\u03c5\u03c2 \u1f45\u03b4\u03b5,\n    \u1f43\u03c2 \u03c4\u1f70 \u03ba\u03bb\u03b5\u03af\u03bd\u2019 \u03b1\u1f30\u03bd\u03af\u03b3\u03bc\u03b1\u03c4\u2019 \u1f94\u03b4\u03b5\u03b9 \u03ba\u03b1\u1f76 \u03ba\u03c1\u03ac\u03c4\u03b9\u03c3\u03c4\u03bf\u03c2 \u1f26\u03bd \u1f00\u03bd\u03ae\u03c1.\n\nIf we accept the customary date of Sophocles\u2019 play (405 B.C.), it was\nproduced after Euripides\u2019 death. Further, the whole scene of \u0152dipus,\nAntigone, and Creon has evidently been expanded and distorted. According\nto one version, that followed by Sophocles in the _Antigone_, the maiden\nremained in Thebes after the battle and buried Polynices; according to\nthe _\u0152dipus Coloneus_ she accompanied her father into exile. Here the\ntwo versions are combined. Moreover, from the entrance of \u0152dipus onwards\nthe play abounds once more in unnatural or unusual turns of speech. And\nit may be thought a serious mistake to bring the aged sufferer forth\nat all,[686] thus creating a new interest at the last moment of a play\ncrowded with incident. But though this portion contains much unauthentic\nwork, it appears to be intermingled with the genuine.\n\nCertain other passages are open to suspicion, especially Jocasta\u2019s\nprologue and the remainder\u2014hitherto unmentioned\u2014of the first messenger\u2019s\nspeech.[687] We appear to have Euripides\u2019 prologue, padded out by\nanother hand. The same kind of recurrent weakness and flatness marks\nthe messenger\u2019s speech. Above all, when the speaker seeks to rise to\nthe occasion, his efforts result in this:[688] \u201cFrom the scaling-ladder\nhis limbs were hurled asunder like sling-stones\u2014his hair to Heaven, his\nblood to earth; his arms and legs whirled round like Ixion\u2019s wheel\u201d. This\nimbecile bombast is fortunately without parallel in Attic tragedy.\n\nIt seems likely that Euripides\u2019 work was in quite early times (probably\nthe fourth century) expanded by another poet, whose main contribution\nwas a large addition to the messengers\u2019 speeches at a date when \u00c6schylus\nwas little enough known to allow such things as the description of the\nhostile champions a good degree of novelty. The new text was in its turn\nenlarged by accretions due to actors.[689]\n\nEuripides\u2019 own work is vigorous and interesting,[690] a stirring scene of\nwarfare, patriotism, and strong passions, which, in its present expanded\nform, reminds one by its spirit and its popularity of Kyd\u2019s _Spanish\nTragedy_, the first favourite of Elizabethan audiences.[691] The two\nbrothers are well distinguished, Polynices by his pathetic sense that\nintolerable wrong is urging him against his will into crime, Eteocles by\na dark fervour of ambition which has grown upon his soul like religion;\nand their terrible altercation in the sweeping trochaic metre is equal to\nanything of the kind in Euripides for terse idiomatic vigour. Jocasta\u2019s\npassionate joy when she sees her exiled son,[692] joy which stirs her\naged feet to trip in a dance of fond rapture,[693] provides the one\nlight-hearted moment. And her noble speech of reconciliation[694] is the\nsingle great achievement of the drama.\n\nThe ORESTES[695] (\u1f48\u03c1\u03ad\u03c3\u03c4\u03b7\u03c2) was produced in 408 B.C. and again in\n341.[696] It was extremely popular, and formed with the _Ph\u0153niss\u00e6_ and\nthe _Hecuba_ the final selection of Euripides\u2019 work made in Byzantine\ntimes; but the later interpolations are probably few. The scene is\nlaid before the palace at Argos. Orestes and Electra, having slain\nClyt\u00e6mnestra and \u00c6gisthus, are imprisoned in their own house by the\nArgive state, which will to-day decide whether they are to be stoned to\ndeath. Orestes has been tormented by madness and is now seen asleep,\nwatched by Electra; she hopes that they may yet be saved by Menelaus,\nwho has come home with Helen. The latter enters and requests Electra to\ngo for her to Clyt\u00e6mnestra\u2019s tomb with drink-offerings; she is persuaded\nto send her daughter Hermione instead. The chorus of Argive ladies now\nenter, and their voices awaken Orestes. Then follows a wonderful scene of\naffectionate tendance and a sudden paroxysm of the sufferer; the chorus\nsing of the Furies and the agony through which the house is passing.\nMenelaus enters and Orestes passionately implores his aid. Tyndareus\n(father of Helen and Clyt\u00e6mnestra) arrives and denounces the cowering\nOrestes: why did he not invoke the law against his mother? The youth\u2019s\nlong speech of exculpation further incenses Tyndareus. When he has\ndeparted, Orestes again appeals to Menelaus, who points out that the only\nhope lies in the Argive Assembly. Orestes watches him go with contempt,\nbut is cheered by the arrival of Pylades, who throws in his lot with his\nfriend, and the two walk off to the Assembly. The chorus sing the story\nof the house and lament the matricide. A messenger brings to Electra an\naccount of the debate, which ended with permission to the criminals to\ndie by their own hand. Electra pours forth a lyric of painful beauty\nuntil the two youths return. Pylades declares that he too will die, but\nsuggests vengeance on Menelaus: let them slay Helen. Electra proposes\nthat Hermione be held as a hostage whereby Menelaus may be induced\nto save them. The two men go within to despatch Helen, whose shrieks\nare soon heard. Meanwhile Electra receives Hermione, who is dragged\nwithin. A Phrygian slave flings himself in terror from a hole high up\nin the house-front; in a strange lyric narrative, he tells how amid the\nconfusion Helen has vanished. Orestes rushes forth in pursuit, but he\nis now insane and the slave contrives to escape. Orestes goes back, and\nin a moment the house is on fire. Menelaus rushes in distraught, and\nsees Orestes on the battlements with his sword at Hermione\u2019s throat. A\nfrantic altercation arises, until Menelaus cries to the citizens for a\nrescue. Apollo appears and bids the quarrel cease. Helen is to become a\nsea-goddess; Electra shall marry Pylades, and Hermione Orestes, who is to\nstand his trial at Athens; Apollo will reconcile him to the Argive state.\n\nTo appreciate this masterpiece, we must realize that Euripides, who so\noften insists on considering tradition in the light of his own day, has\nhere insisted on that principle even more definitely than elsewhere.\nCertain legendary data are, to be sure, retained. Troy has fallen but\na few years ago; Iphigenia was offered by her father as a sacrifice\nat Aulis. Otherwise the events described might have occurred in the\nfifth century. Agamemnon, though a noble of great eminence, was not a\nking[697]; Argos is ruled by an Assembly not distinguishable from the\nAthenian Ecclesia. The youth who exacts vengeance with his own hand is\ntold in language which might have been employed by Pericles, that the\nvendetta is an outrage upon law and society; punishment for crime rests\nwith the State alone.[698] The behest of Apollo, all-important in the\n_Choephor\u0153_, is not even mentioned in the discussion which decides the\nfate of Orestes. The oracle is indeed treated with scant courtesy even\nby those most concerned to uphold it; Electra complains of the god\u2019s\n\u201cwickedness,\u201d[699] and her brother \u201cblames Loxias\u201d for urging him to a\nvillainous deed and then giving no aid.[700] The atmosphere is one in\nwhich the slaughter of Clyt\u00e6mnestra must be regarded with horror and the\ntraditional defence of Orestes as unthinkable. This is not a theological\nstudy, but a dramatic essay in criminal psychology.\n\nIn Orestes the playwright has given us one of his most terrible\nportraits. Highly sensitive, weak-minded, over-educated in a bad school,\nhe is unbalanced by the horror of his father\u2019s death and by the oracular\ncommand which has blasted his life. In the magnificent sick-bed scene\nhe, like his sister, fills us with nothing but pity. But the calmer he\nbecomes the more are we filled with loathing for this pedant of eighteen,\nwith his syllogisms justifying murder, his parade of rhetoric, his\nhopeless inability to grasp a situation. Rich as is the world\u2019s drama\nin villains, Orestes occupies a place conspicuous. He has little heart\nand no sense. Both failings are common. But that both heart and brain\nshould be replaced by a factitious perverse cleverness, an incredibly\nsuperficial passion for scoring logical points against opponents who have\nin hand urgent interests of real life\u2014this grips us irresistibly. He is\nan example of the wreck produced by a highly specialized mental training\nwhich has ignored character. His first address to Menelaus strikes the\nnote:\u2014\n\n    Freely will I divulge my woes to thee.\n    But _as the first-fruits of my plight_, I touch\n    Thy knees, a suppliant, _tying prayer_ the while\n    To thy _unleaf\u00e8d lips_....[701]\n\nThis affected and obscure exordium is followed by verbal subtleties\nat every opportunity: \u201cthrough my sorrows I live not, yet see the\nlight\u201d[702]\u2014\u201cmy deeds, not my appearance, ravage me\u201d[703]\u2014\u201cmy body\u2019s\ngone, my name alone remains\u201d.[704] But all this is nothing to the\ndetestable exhibition wherewith he answers the aged Tyndareus. To the\nvital point\u2014that Clyt\u00e6mnestra should have been brought before a legal\ntribunal\u2014he makes no reply whatever. His only difficulties are that\nTyndareus is wounded to the soul by his daughter\u2019s death, and that he is\nfar older than Orestes. What is to be done? Simply to \u201ccontract out of\u201d\nnatural feelings so that the way may be clear for pure logic:\u2014\n\n    True, matricide doth taint me, yet again\n    Pure am I, for my sire I did avenge.\n    Therefore let thy great age be set aside\n    From this our conference, for it puts me out;\n    And let me on\u2014\u2019tis but thy hair I dread.[705]\n\nThere follows a frigid \u201cstatement\u201d\u2014\u201cbalance two against two\u201d[706]\u2014of\nhis father\u2019s claim and his mother\u2019s offences, and of his own glorious\nachievement in purifying social life. The original sinner is Tyndareus\nhimself who begot so vile a daughter! He ends by an appeal to Apollo\u2019s\nbehest, and a pompous comment on the importance of marriage.\n\nThe aged Spartan having given his grandson over to justice as\nirreclaimable, the youth turns to Menelaus, whom he insists on regarding\nas his real hope, in spite of Menelaus\u2019 plain reluctance and extreme\nunpopularity in Argos. He is, moreover, unwilling to endure another\ndisplay: \u201cLet me be; I am reflecting....\u201d[707] At all times he is\nimpatient of subtleties; in the first moments of their meeting he\nasks his accomplished nephew: \u201cWhat mean you? Wisdom is shown not by\nobscurity, but by plain speech.\u201d[708] But now that Orestes has his\nchance, he refuses to suffer Menelaus\u2019 \u201creflections,\u201d and with a warning\nthat \u201ca long address is better than a short one, and easier for the\nauditor to follow\u201d[709] produces a masterpiece of metallic cleverness\nwhich presses Seneca himself very hard; perhaps the finest gem is the\noffer of Hermione as a kind of discount.[710] Before the Assembly he\nsucceeds in combining several insanely tactless insults to the Argives:\nthey are \u201cpossessors,\u201d not original citizens, of the land; they were\nPelasgians at first, but later \u201cDanaid\u00e6,\u201d descendants of the women who\nslew their husbands; and he has killed his mother as much for their sake\nas his father\u2019s.[711] But Euripides\u2019 most frightful satire on \u201cadvanced\neducation\u201d is reserved for the nightmare of the close, where the raving\nOrestes leans down over the battlement to the grief-maddened Menelaus\nand begins by a lunatic reminiscence of the \u201cSocratic method\u201d: \u201cwill you\nbe the questioner or the respondent?\u201d[712]\n\nPrig as he is, Orestes has nevertheless some elements of nobility at the\nfirst. He can tell his uncle plainly that his disease is \u201cconscience,\nwhich convicts me for a criminal\u201d;[713] he shows real regard for Electra;\nthe splendidly selfless friendship between him and Pylades stirs every\none. As the play advances, however, we are lost in the loathing and\nbreathless wonder wherewith we gaze upon the increasing insanity of the\nwretched prince.[714] Each moment he becomes more vigorous and more lost\nto sense of right; when Electra suggests the vilest part of the plot\u2014the\nseizure of Hermione\u2014he breaks forth into a cry like Macbeth\u2019s: \u201cBring\nforth men-children only!\u201d[715]\n\nElectra has been the chief definite cause of Orestes\u2019 fall. Amazingly\nvivid, she fills the whole drama with a thin acrid fume of malice. Her\nruling passion is not mere hatred against Clyt\u00e6mnestra. That bitterness\nhas spread until (saving her tenderness for Orestes) there is nothing in\nher but a narrow viperishness. When an innocent like Hermione draws near,\nthe fang strikes by instinct. Her intensity of feeling and her years have\nmade her Orestes\u2019 monitor long before he returned home, and it is she\nto whom Tyndareus points, in searing language, as the more guilty.[716]\nAnother influence has soured her, that lack of husband and children on\nwhich Helen, with the brutality so frequent in shallow natures, insists\nat their first meeting.[717] But Electra has vastly more common-sense\nthan her brother or Pylades, and it is to her that the delightful\ncomment on Helen is given:[718]\n\n    Ah, Nature!...\n    Saw ye how tiny was that tress she cut,\n    Sparing her beauty? \u2019Tis the old Helen still!\n\nBut her sense of humour cannot sustain her heart long:\n\n    Heaven\u2019s hatred seize thee! Thou hast wrought the fall\n    Of me, and this my brother, and of Greece.\n\nThese two women, so pungently contrasted in one brief scene, share,\nhowever, one attribute\u2014that nerveless theology which Euripides detested\nas rotting the moral fibre. Electra muses upon \u201csuffering and disaster\nsent by Heaven\u201d.[719] Helen attributes her elopement with Paris to\nthe \u201cmaddening doom of Heaven,\u201d[720] which has also \u201cdestroyed this\nhapless pair\u201d[721]\u2014her nephew and niece. The latter in her lyric outcry\nexplores[722] all the legends of her line to discover the cause of the\npresent disaster, a method which the chorus, for all their sympathy,\nindeed complicity,[723] seem to parody by the ludicrous baldness of their\nreflection that this horror of fiends and bloodshed has fallen upon the\nhouse \u201cbecause Myrtilus fell out of the chariot\u201d![724]\n\nAll the minor characters are skilfully drawn\u2014Pylades, the warm-hearted\nscatter-brained ruffian who conceives the murder of Helen as soon[725] as\nhe learns that she is in his friend\u2019s house; Tyndareus, the hot-tempered,\naffectionate old king; Menelaus, the vulgar and successful, who has no\nother ambition than to let bygones be bygones[726] and who has actually\nexpected to find Orestes and Clyt\u00e6mnestra sharing the same home, quite\ncomfortable after the death of Agamemnon;[727] Helen, that faded, facile\ncreature, who cannot abstain from conversation, even with murderesses\nif there is no one else. Hermione, minute as is her part, commands our\naffection, not only because of the vile complot which centres round her,\nbut for the shy graciousness of the little she does say, \u1f25\u03ba\u03c9 \u03bb\u03b1\u03b2\u03bf\u1fe6\u03c3\u03b1\n\u03c0\u03c1\u03b5\u03c5\u03bc\u03ad\u03bd\u03b5\u03b9\u03b1\u03bd[728] and the rest; she seems to have strayed from some sunlit\nlost drama by Sophocles.\n\nThe religious sanction which for Sophocles had been the background of\nOrestes\u2019 story and which for \u00c6schylus provided the most vital part of\nthe action, has in Euripides\u2019 hands become, as it were, a small, rather\nshabby stage-property hung upon the back-scene. Those Avenging Spirits\nwho hunt the matricide are now called \u201cfrenzies\u201d[729] by his sister,\nand in the anxiously precise account[730] which Menelaus elicits from\nhis nephew, it becomes plain that the three \u201cmaidens like night\u201d are an\nhallucination; any unfettered intercourse between them and ordinary men\nis out of the question. Traditional belief itself tells rather against\ntheir divinity than for it.[731] Another stage property is the incidental\nmiracle. Menelaus at Malea was addressed by the \u201cprophet of Nereus,\nGlaucus, truthful god,\u201d who told him of his brother\u2019s death.[732] When\nwe learn that at Nauplia he heard of Clyt\u00e6mnestra\u2019s death but from \u201csome\nmariner,\u201d[733] we surmise that \u201cGlaucus\u201d too was human.[734] The second\nmiracle is that related[735] by the Phrygian slave; Helen vanished,\n\u201ceither by spells or the tricks of wizards or stolen by Heaven\u201d. Helen\nhas only hidden herself; the Phrygian is crazed by excitement and terror.\nBut the miracle of Helen is vouched for by a more august witness, Apollo,\nwho asserts that he has saved her from Orestes\u2019 sword. Thus we arrive\nat the final triumph of orthodox religion, the epilogue in which the\nDelphian god stays at a word the vengeance of Argos and the quarrel\nbetween Menelaus and Orestes. In the reality of this epilogue we shall\nbelieve according as we find it credible that Euripides could destroy all\nthe effect of his own play. All the action, all the atmosphere, which the\ndramatist has created, are rent by an utter breach. The objection is not\nso much that Apollo and his speeches are in themselves absurd, though the\nconsolation offered to Menelaus, that Helen throughout their married life\nhas given him endless trouble,[736] is (however true) distasteful. What\njars hopelessly is the monstrous discontinuity of event and emotion. As\nelsewhere, this orthodox Olympian and his epilogue are a sham, devised to\nsuit the demands of an audience which \u201cknew\u201d how Orestes went forth from\nArgos to Athens. The real drama ends with the wild breakdown of Menelaus,\nand for the three criminals and their victim the doom falls which sin and\nbitter madness have made inevitable.[737]\n\nBut the Orestes is not remarkable as a study in scepticism, like the\n_Ion_. Even the psychology, superb as it is, cannot be regarded as the\ncause of the immense popularity which the play won in antiquity.[738]\nIt is pre-eminent for magnificent situations. The sick-bed scene is\nunforgettable, especially that marvellous hushed song[739] of Electra\nbeside her sleeping brother:\u2014\n\n      Holy night, outpouring ever\n        Slumber\u2019s boon on souls that mourn,\n    From thy midmost deep dominion\n    Hither bend thy sweeping pinion,\n      Where, \u2019neath woes that leave it never\n        Lies a princely house forlorn.\n\nThe whole progress of the later scenes is splendidly exciting, and in\nthe midst Euripides has set the audacious scene of the Phrygian slave\nwho replaces the conventional messenger\u2019s speech with his wild lyrical\nnarrative, incoherent and baffling. Equally brilliant is the finale in\nwhich actual lunacy confronts the delirium of despair and grief, with the\nfrail victim flung upon the parapet, the knife brandished in the madman\u2019s\ngrasp, and the flames which are to end the horror already rising behind.\n\nThe BACCH\u00c6[740] (\u0392\u03ac\u03ba\u03c7\u03b1\u03b9), or _Bacchantes_ (female votaries of the god\nBacchus or Dionysus), was produced in 405 B.C., soon after the poet\u2019s\ndeath in Macedonia, and with its companion-plays obtained the first prize.\n\nDionysus, standing before the palace of Thebes, tells how, disguised\nas a prophet, he has brought his religion into Greece. His purpose in\nThebes is to punish the sisters of his mother Semele for declaring that\ntheir sister had united herself not with Zeus but with some mortal, and\nto crush the young king Pentheus, who opposes his worship. Already the\nTheban women are revelling upon Mount Cith\u00e6ron, filled with the Bacchic\necstasy. He departs to join them, and the chorus of Phrygian votaresses\nthrong in uttering a rapturous eulogy of their religion. Tiresias and\nCadmus are next seen preparing to join the revels, when Pentheus enters\nand reproaches them. Their answers enrage him further and he orders the\narrest of the stranger-prophet. The chorus appeal to Holiness against the\noppressor, reciting the blessings of Dionysus and the doom of pride;\nthey yearn to revel unchecked. The Stranger is brought in; Pentheus\nquestions and insults him, finally haling him away to the stables. The\nchorus sing their indignation and desire for the aid of Dionysus in\nperson when the prophet is heard summoning fire and earthquake; the women\nin frenzy greet the overthrow of the palace. Their leader comes forth\nand relates how Pentheus in vain sought to bind him and how the god has\nthrown the house into utter ruin. Pentheus rushes out in fury, but is\nmet by a rustic who relates the revels and miracles performed by the\nTheban votaresses. This excites the king still further, but the Stranger\ndissuades him from the use of armed force; let him go disguised as a\nwoman to witness the revels. Pentheus retires into the palace with the\nprophet, who reveals the king\u2019s coming doom to the chorus; they rejoice\nin their future freedom and the fate of the ungodly. Pentheus re-appears,\ndressed as a female reveller and utterly under the Stranger\u2019s influence.\nThe two depart for the mountains, the king being now practically\nimbecile. The chorus fiercely call for bloody vengeance, then praise\nthe humble endeavour after all that is beautiful in life. A messenger\nreturns with the story of Pentheus\u2019 death: he has been torn to pieces by\nhis mother Agave and her companions. Agave enters in mad triumph with\nher son\u2019s head, followed by Cadmus, who bears the mangled remains of his\ngrandson and gradually brings Agave back to her senses. He laments[741]\nthe prince who was the comfort of his old age.[742] Dionysus appears\nin the sky, foretells the future of Cadmus and his wife, and explains\nthat the present sorrows are due to the will of Zeus. Agave turns away,\nrepudiating the new religion.\n\nIntoxicatingly beautiful, coldly sordid, at one moment baffling the\nbrain, at the next thrilling us with the mystic charm of wood and\nhillside, this drama stands unique among Euripides\u2019 works. Its wonderful\neffect flows from three sources: primitive dramaturgy, lyrical beauty,\nthe enigma of its theological import. As for the first of these, there\nis a marked simplicity both of plot and characters. A god brings a\nstrange worship into the land of his birth; the king rejects and scorns\nhim; whereupon the god turns his people to madness so that they avenge\nhim upon the king. It is the simplest possible dramatic concept. If we\nconsider the personages, comparing Agave with Ph\u00e6dra or Medea, Pentheus\nwith Ion or Hippolytus, we find an equal simplicity. The characters of\nthe _Bacch\u00e6_ impress us less by their subtle truth to nature than by\nthe situation in which they stand. In this sense the _Bacch\u00e6_ is the\nmost \u00c6schylean work of Euripides. Like his predecessor when he composed\nthe _Choephor\u0153_, he is studying directly a great religious fact, which\nsubmerges the refinements of individual psychology, leaving somewhat\nstark figures, the God, the Old Man, the King, the Prophet, and the\nWoman.[743] In technique we are not far from that primitive stage of\nmodern drama which exhibits the interplay of Avarice, Lovingkindness,\nand the rest. This imparts an even greater attractiveness to the amazing\nliterary excellence of the whole. This excellence is of two distinct\nkinds. The episodes are not filled with romantic beauty\u2014only a few\nsplendid passages in the long narratives of messengers exhibit this;\nthey show the same mastery of a brilliant half-prosaic idiom which is\nfamiliar elsewhere. But the lyrics are the poet\u2019s finest achievement in\nthis field. Nothing that he had created hitherto can be compared with\nthem, save the praises of Attica in the _Medea_[744] and the song of\nescape in the _Hippolytus_.[745] The profound beauty of their musings on\nthe life of serene piety, the startling vividness wherewith they express\nthe secluded loveliness which haunts bare peaks or remote woodlands,\nthe superb torrent of glowing song[746] which celebrates the religious\necstasy of Dionysiac votaries, where the glorious diction is swept along\nby a tempest of ever more tumultuous rhythm\u2014all these contribute to make\nthe _Bacch\u00e6_ something precious and alone.\n\nIt is with regard to the third feature, the theological purport, that\ndisagreement begins among critics. Is the playwright commending the\nBacchic religion to his fellow-countrymen or is he not? If not, why this\nmagnificent and intense proclamation of the glory conferred by belief?\nBut if he supports it, why this dreary aching scene at the end, when\nDionysus hears no voice raised in loyalty, only the despairing accents\nof the woman who repudiates his worship? It may be objected that perhaps\nwe should not hope for definite interpretation, that since \u201clike a\nlive thing it seems to move and show new faces every time that, with\nimagination fully working, one reads the play,\u201d[747] perhaps there is\nno core of central fact to find. Here lurks a dangerous confusion of\nthought. Every work of art springs from a definite concept held by the\nartist, some piece of reality clearly understood and sincerely felt,\ninsisting on expression at his hands precisely because it affects him\nemotionally. The elusiveness of the final expression is not in the least\ndegree any proof that no definite doctrine, or experience, or passionate\nwish, was its origin; a fern has a physical centre of gravity as truly as\nan apple, though more difficult to locate. Rather, the luxuriant freedom\nis the proof that there is deep down something definite, else the freedom\nwould be anarchy. We conclude that however enigmatic is the _Bacch\u00e6_,\nyet Euripides had a definite opinion about the two questions: Does the\ngod Dionysus exist? Is his religion a blessing to humanity? His opinion\ncould have been written down in a few lucid sentences. Had this not been\nso, he would have postponed beginning his play until it was. This clear\nconcept may itself indicate \u201cdoubt\u201d (if we insist on the word) or rather\na bifurcation of truth, as may be observed in the dramaturgy of Sophocles.\n\nThere is, then, a secret to be discovered. Is it lost for ever,\nor not? It appears to some[748] that the drama contains evidence,\nunmistakable but long overlooked, which conveys Euripides\u2019 opinion\nconcerning Dionysus. The chief, the only certain, clue is contained in\nthe \u201cPalace-Miracle\u201d. The facts are, that the chorus cry aloud at the\ntottering of the building; that Dionysus a moment later when relating\nwhat has happened within, adds, \u201cAnd this further evil hath Bacchus\nwrought upon him: he hath flung his dwelling to the ground, where it lies\nall in ruin\u201d;[749] that, finally, the palace is as a fact uninjured. This\nlatter point is proved by the complete silence of all the personages,\nexcept Dionysus and the chorus. Neither Cadmus nor Agave, nor the two\nmessengers, at their several entrances make the least remark about it.\nAbove all, Pentheus, who was within the house when the overthrow is\nalleged to have occurred, says nothing about it. Later the prince and his\nenemy enter the palace before proceeding to Cith\u00e6ron, again with no hint\nthat the building has been destroyed. It follows that the statements made\nby the chorus and by Dionysus are untrue.[750] The women believe what\ntheir leader cries out from within and what he tells them later. That is,\nthey accept what their own eyes tell them is false. Only one power can\nwork this marvel of belief\u2014hypnotism, or, as earlier ages would call it,\nmagic. The Dionysus of this play is precisely what Pentheus calls him,\na \u201cforeign wizard,\u201d[751] no god at all, but a human hierophant of the\nnew religion. Brought up in Western Asia, he combines a profound feeling\nfor natural religion with an un-Greek leaning to orgiastic ecstasy and\nan instinct for fiendish cruelty; so that in spreading the gospel of joy\nand simple surrender to the mystic loveliness of Nature he crushes those\nwho reject him, not destroying them in passion, but working their misery\nwith a horrible cold relish: he is Shakespeare\u2019s Richard the Third with\nreligious instead of political ambitions. As for the Dionysiac religion\nitself, the poet feels its vast emotional appeal\u2014feels it so strongly\nthat he has drawn the most wonderful picture of ecstatic religion to be\nfound in literature; but if it is proposed to him as \u201ca way of life\u201d for\ncivilized men he condemns it as firmly as unwillingly. To give free rein\nto passions and instincts hitherto unconscious or starved, this is a\npath, perhaps the only path, towards strangely beautiful experience, the\nthrill of communion with non-human life; but it is not the path for man.\nHere Euripides stands at one with the great European tradition. If man is\nto attain the height of his destiny he will seek not the gold of joy but\nthe silver of happiness, not the blazing rapture of absorption in strange\nbeauty, but the calm glow of self-understanding and self-expression.\nHe will not seek to destroy the instinct for ecstasy, but will harness\nit, and work it into the fabric of a sound coherent life. He may be a\nspectator, it is true, if not of all time, yet of all existence; his\neyes will shrink from nothing, but his heart is not to be reft from him.\nHe must prove all things, but hold fast only that which is good\u2014a moral\nbeing, not the slave of sound and colour. In this drama, where Euripides\nseems to voice like some pagan archangel the glory of a non-moral\nabsorption in the torrent of raw life, he is fundamentally as moral as at\nany moment in life. As Tannh\u00e4user after his sojourn in the Venusberg is\nat length won back by the urgency of his own soul into the Roman Church,\nso does Euripides unflinchingly present, to an audience still breathing\nhard after the glories of Cith\u00e6ron, Agave and Cadmus bowed over Pentheus\u2019\nmangled body, and the rejection of a god whose unmitigated demands imply\nthe wreckage of sound human life.\n\nWhat, then, are we to believe of Dionysus? If we refuse him we are liable\nlike Pentheus to be destroyed; if we surrender ourselves, what of Agave?\nHere is a dilemma which Euripides himself did not foresee. By \u03b8\u03b5\u03cc\u03c2\n(\u201cgod\u201d) he often means something widely different from the concept of an\nordinary Athenian, but he never intends all the associations of our word\n\u201cGod\u201d. For us belief in \u201cGod\u201d implies that the universe holds a personal\nGovernor, all-powerful and all-wise, who stands to us in a relation\nemotional as well as metaphysical. To accept Him is to believe that His\npurpose embraces the existence and history of the universe and of the\nhumblest creature therein, and because of that belief to merit His\nlove by loving service of our own. These thoughts are to us tremendous\ncommonplaces; they would have bewildered any fifth-century Greek save\n\u00c6schylus.[752] \u03b8\u03b5\u03cc\u03c2 means a power, usually but not necessarily personal,\nwhich is outside ourselves and affects our life in a manner which cannot\nbe affected by any wish or act of ours, save possibly to a small degree\nby ritual submission. Dionysus, like the other \u201cgods,\u201d is a permanent\nfact of life personified. We must give him respect, take account of him\nin our conduct and judgment of others. To ignore him is not so much sin\nas utter blindness. If we insist on the personality of Dionysus we find\nhim attractive but deadly, a deity who employs his might to entangle\nthe threads of life, crushing hearts better than his own. In so far as\nhe is a person he is unthinkable. But as a fact of life, with no more\npurpose or will than the force of gravitation, he is neither good nor\nbad, simply a profound reality, one of the elements we must consider in\nbuilding our lives. Cadmus expresses this lesson: \u201cIf anyone despises the\nsupernatural powers, let him look on the death of this man and believe in\nthe gods\u201d.[753]\n\nThen why does the poet dwell on the personal existence of Dionysus? Even\nif we refuse to believe the theory outlined already, that this person\nis a human hierophant, we can still answer the question. Euripides is\nconcerned not merely to tell us the truth about ethics, but to discuss\nthe current theology of his day. The majority of his fellows believed in\na personal Zeus, a personal Athena and Dionysus. He wishes to convince\nthem of the falsity, the pernicious falsity, of such a creed. Take this\nplay in its superficial meaning and you find a person who is detestable\u2014a\ngod who does wrong, and who is, therefore, no god at all.[754] Away with\nhim; purify your theology. And when this is done, we find, not that the\ndrama has fallen to pieces, but that now it is coherent and forcible.\nThere is in the human soul an instinct for ecstasy, for a relinquishment\nof self in order to feel and bathe in the non-human glory of Nature.\nTrample this instinct ruthlessly down as did Pentheus, and your life is\nmaimed and shrivelled.\n\nIPHIGENIA AT AULIS[755] (\u1f38\u03c6\u03b9\u03b3\u03ad\u03bd\u03b5\u03b9\u03b1 \u1f21 \u1f10\u03bd \u0391\u1f50\u03bb\u03af\u03b4\u03b9) was produced soon after\nthe poet\u2019s death in 406 B.C. by his son, together with _Alcm\u00e6on at\nCorinth_ and the _Bacch\u00e6_.\n\nThe scene shows Agamemnon\u2019s tent at Aulis, where the Greeks are encamped\nready to sail for Troy, but delayed by contrary winds. Before they can\nset out Agamemnon\u2019s daughter Iphigenia must be sacrificed to Artemis.\nThe king has written to his wife bidding her send the maiden\u2014to marry\nAchilles. We now see him in agony beneath the night-sky and entrusting to\nan aged slave a letter revoking the first. The chorus (women of Colchis)\nenter and describe the pastimes of various heroes. Menelaus intercepts\nthe letter and reproaches his brother with treachery. After a vigorous\ndispute they learn that Clyt\u00e6mnestra and Iphigenia are approaching.\nMenelaus relents, but they realize that the sacrifice must proceed. The\nchorus sing Aphrodite\u2019s power and the judgment of Paris. Agamemnon greets\nhis family with half-concealed distress, and in vain attempts to send his\nwife back forthwith. A choric ode describes the impending doom of Troy.\nAchilles, seeking Agamemnon, meets Clyt\u00e6mnestra, who to his amazement\ngreets him as a son-in-law. In the midst of their embarrassment the\nold slave comes forward and reveals Agamemnon\u2019s purpose. The queen in\nagony appeals to Achilles, who promises to defend Iphigenia. The chorus\nsing the bridals of Peleus and Thetis, Achilles\u2019 parents. Then mother\nand daughter piteously beg Agamemnon to relent; he is heart-broken but\ndetermined. Iphigenia utters a lyric lament, after which Achilles tells\nhow the army maltreated him for championing Iphigenia. He and the queen\nare excitedly debating, when Iphigenia proclaims her readiness to die\nfor the cause of Greece, and departs, singing her farewell to life. A\nmessenger brings a description of the sacrifice: at the last moment the\nprincess miraculously disappeared, and a hind was substituted for her by\nthe goddess. Agamemnon returns and takes leave of Clyt\u00e6mnestra.\n\nThe text of this drama presents curious features.[756] There are two\nprologues, and the last fifty or sixty lines of the whole are corrupt.\nIt seems that Euripides died before the work was finished; the gaps\nwere filled by his son Euripides who produced the trilogy (_Iphigenia_,\n_Alcm\u00e6on_, _Bacch\u00e6_) soon after 406 B.C. The original prologue, of the\nordinary narrative kind, delivered by Agamemnon in iambic metre, is\nembedded in the later prologue, which takes the form of a dialogue in\nanap\u00e6sts between the king and his aged retainer. This later work is\nextremely charming, filled with the quiet beauty of night overhanging the\nfeverish ambition and misery of men. But though the younger Euripides\nprobably wrote an ending also, this has been displaced by extremely\nbad[757] work of a much later time. It is not easy to understand why\nsuch inferior matter was allowed to eject the composition of the younger\nEuripides. Perhaps the explanation is that the concluding lines were\nknown from the first not to be by the master, that the play was often\nproduced, and that for these two reasons rival endings were very early\nbefore the public. They would destroy one another\u2019s prestige, so that in\nlater centuries none survived, and some scribe filled up the gap as best\nhe could.\n\nA noteworthy contrast exists between the _Iphigenia_ and the _Bacch\u00e6_,\nthough they were no doubt composed at almost the same time. In this\nplay the chorus has practically no concern with the action, whereas\nthe Asiatic women form the soul of the _Bacch\u00e6_. Instead of the wild\nloveliness or serene spirituality which thrill us in the lyrics of that\ndrama, we find here nothing more profound than graceful complications\nof phrase and facile emotion. In compensation, while the _Bacch\u00e6_\nis primitive in psychology, its companion is superior to many Greek\ntragedies in the masterly freedom and subtlety of its character-drawing.\n\nThe play is a study of five ordinary characters under the stress of an\nextraordinary crisis. This common-place quality of the personages conveys\nthe whole purport, giving it a momentous position even among such works\nas we have been discussing. In this latest tragedy no sincere reader\ncan fail to detect himself under the thin disguise of names. Many men\nwere pointed at as the original of Meredith\u2019s Sir Willoughby Patterne,\nand for the same good reason most Athenian husbands must have stirred\na little on their benches in the presence of this unheroic Agamemnon.\nThere is nothing heroic in any of the persons. Menelaus is an ordinary\nman\u2014artlessly selfish at one moment, artlessly and uselessly kind-hearted\nat another, and a master of fluent invective which reveals his own\nfailings. Clyt\u00e6mnestra is an ordinary woman, showing indeed a queenly\ndignity in the normal relations of life, but when puzzled or alarmed\nrevealing herself a thorough _bourgeoise_, and when confronted by the\ndoom which threatens her daughter forgetting all her pride, clutching\nat even the most pitiful means[758] of gaining a respite, and utterly\nbroken when her hope dies away. Agamemnon is an ordinary man, thrown by\ncircumstances into a position where both generalship and statesmanship\nare needed, attempting to rule his army by diplomacy and his family\nby military discipline, with ruin as the result. Fatally open to\nsuggestion, he makes and remakes subterfuges, seeking to spare every\none\u2019s feelings until at last he drifts into the necessity of slaying\nhis own child. Even Iphigenia is an ordinary girl. It is precisely\nbecause she is a common type that we grieve for her anguish and triumph\nin her exaltation. Macaria in the _Heracleid\u00e6_ is almost unknown save\nto professed students of Euripides. She knows no fear or hesitation and\nlives on the heights; we recognize in ourselves no kinship with her. But\nIphigenia we meet every day. She is no heroine, but a child. Her delight\nat seeing her father again shows all a child\u2019s amiable abandon; her\npitiful cries and shrinking at the prospect of death are those of the\nordinary happiness-loving girl. When finally the agony of her father,\nthe empty clamour of Achilles, her mother\u2019s undignified tremors, nerve\nher to trample her own dread under foot, we rejoice precisely because\nwhat we witness is the triumph of common human nature. Even Achilles,\nson of a goddess as story reported him, is a common-place person too.\nThis is not the hero who flames through the _Iliad_, but a young noble\nled into the extreme of folly by this very legend that his origin is\ndivine. Perhaps nothing even in the deadly Euripides is quite so fatal to\nthe traditional halo than the incredible speech[759] wherewith Achilles\ncomforts Clyt\u00e6mnestra. Of vast length, full of spurious, jerky rhetoric\nand contradictory comments on the situation\u2014which, however frightful,\nappeals to him mostly as an atmosphere in which he can pose\u2014this oration\nreveals him as a sham. Fortunately for him, he is never undeceived. This\nman is not the Achilles of tradition; he is spiritual brother of the mad\nprince in the _Orestes_ and the ancestor of Mr. Shaw\u2019s Sergius Saranoff.\n\nIn his last work, then, Euripides, so far from showing any exhaustion of\npower, appears on the verge of new developments.[760] He has drawn still\nnearer to the new comedy of Menander. The suddenness with which, after\nthe quarrel between Agamemnon and Menelaus, the crisis is precipitated\nby the entrance of the messenger announcing Iphigenia\u2019s arrival\u2014the\nman breaks into the middle of a line[761]\u2014is a remarkable novelty. The\naltercation itself shows a brilliant freedom of idiom which even this\npoet has hardly reached hitherto. There is at least one unprecedented\nlicense of metre.[762] And the complete change of spirit which comes upon\nIphigenia was novel enough to offend Aristotle.[763]\n\nThe CYCLOPS[764] (\u039a\u03cd\u03ba\u03bb\u03c9\u03c8) is the only complete[765] satyric play now\nextant. No indications of date[766] seem available.\n\nThe background is a cave on Mount Etna, wherein dwells the Cyclops,\nor one-eyed giant, Polyphemus. Silenus tells how he and the satyrs\nhave become the ogre\u2019s slaves. He is sweeping out the cavern when the\nchorus of satyrs drive in their flocks. Odysseus and his men arrive,\nseeking provisions, which Silenus eagerly sells for a skin of wine. The\nconversation is interrupted by Polyphemus who decides to devour the\nintruders. Odysseus eloquently appeals to him, but receives a brutal and\nblasphemous reply. The giant drives the Greeks within, and the chorus\nexpress their disgust at his cannibalism. Odysseus tells how two of\nhis men have been eaten; he himself has gained favour by the gift of\nwine, and proposes that they all escape, after blinding Polyphemus with\na red-hot stake. The chorus joyfully assent. Polyphemus comes forth\ndrunk and intending to visit his brethren, but Odysseus dissuades him.\nThe Cyclops asks Odysseus his name and is told \u201cNoman\u201d; he promises to\neat his benefactor last. The revel proceeds until Polyphemus retires,\nwhereupon Odysseus calls for action, but the chorus all offer ridiculous\nexcuses. The hero goes within to perform the task with his comrades. Soon\nthe giant reappears, blind and bellowing with pain, while the satyrs joke\nabout \u201cNoman,\u201d and give him false directions so that the Greeks escape\nfrom the cave. Odysseus reveals himself, and Polyphemus recognizes the\nfulfilment of an oracle. He threatens to wreck the ship, but the others\ndepart unconcernedly to the beach.\n\nThis brief play\u2014it has hardly more than seven hundred lines\u2014is\ninvaluable as being the only complete work of the satyric type which we\nnow possess. Considered in itself, it is of small value,[767] though\nit must have formed an agreeable light entertainment. The lyrics are\nshort and trifling. Of characterization there is little, and that\nlittle traditional and obvious\u2014Odysseus is pious, valiant, resourceful;\nPolyphemus brutally sensual, the satyrs cowardly and frivolous. Though\nthere are passages of tension, the audience can never have felt any\nmarked excitement, as the whole story, except that the satyrs are\nimported by the dramatist, is taken from a well-known episode in\nHomer[768]; even such things as the joke on the name Outis[769] (\u201cNoman\u201d)\nand the comparison[770] between the spit which blinds Polyphemus and the\nauger of a shipwright, are borrowed from the epic. The nature of satyric\ndrama in general is discussed elsewhere.[771] Here it will be enough to\nnote that there are \u201ctragic\u201d features in this play; Odysseus throughout\nspeaks and acts in a manner as dignified, perhaps more dignified, than\nin certain tragedies of our poet. The farcical scenes provided by the\nrascally Silenus, the obscene jests and cowardice of the chorus, and a\ncertain approximation[772] to comedy in the iambic metre used by them or\nby Polyphemus, are marks of a satyric play. It should be noted, however,\nthat even without them, the _Cyclops_ would be no tragedy. Polyphemus is\nno tragic antagonist of the hero. His exposition of his philosophy of\nlife,[773] such as it is, must not persuade us that there is here any\nvalid moral antagonism as foundation of the drama. Odysseus contends with\nhim and eludes him as one might escape the violence of a ravening animal.\n\nThe RHESUS[774] (\u1fec\u1fc6\u03c3\u03bf\u03c2) is a drama of uncertain date and authorship.\nThe action is founded on the Tenth Book of the _Iliad_, and takes place\nat night in the Trojan camp. Hector has defeated the Greeks and hopes\nto destroy them at dawn. The drama opens with a song by the chorus\nof sentinels, come to warn Hector that the Greeks are astir. He is\nordering instant attack when \u00c6neas urges that a spy be first sent.\nDolon volunteers, and sets forth disguised as a wolf, followed by the\nadmiration and prayers of the chorus. A herdsman announces the approach\nof the Thracian prince, Rhesus, with an army to aid Troy, but Hector is\ndispleased with his tardiness, and, despite the joyful ode of the chorus,\ngreets his ally with reproaches. Rhesus offers excuses, promising to\ndestroy the Greeks without Trojan help, and to invade Greece; Hector\ntakes him away to bivouac. The chorus depart to rouse the Lycians,\nwhose watch comes next. Odysseus and Diomedes steal in, intending to\nslay Hector. They have met Dolon and learned from him the position of\nHector\u2019s tent and the watchword, \u201cPh\u0153bus\u201d. Athena appears, bidding them\nslay Rhesus and take his wondrous steeds. They depart, and, seeing Paris\ndraw near, she calms his suspicions under the guise of his protectress\nAphrodite. Next she recalls the Greeks, who have slain Rhesus. An\nexciting scene follows, in which the chorus seize Odysseus, who escapes\nby using the pass-word. The chorus sing the daring of Odysseus. A wounded\ncharioteer of Rhesus staggers in, proclaiming his master\u2019s death, of\nwhich he accuses Hector, who sends him away for tendance. As the chorus\nlament, a Muse appears in the sky, bearing the body of her son Rhesus.\nShe sings a dirge and curses Odysseus and Diomedes. Next she tells of her\nunion with the river-god, father of Rhesus, and upbraids Athena. Hector\npromises glorious obsequies, but she declares that her son shall live on\nin the Thracian mountains as a spirit half-divine.[775] Hector orders an\nassault upon the Greeks, and the chorus sing a few courageous words.\n\nThis admirable drama stands quite by itself. There is a minimum of\npsychology; the lyrics are mostly of slight value. But the writer has\nnot aimed at a tragedy of the usual type. Its excellence lies in the\nvigour and excitement of the action. Almost all the scenes, especially\nthe debate at the opening, and the escape of the Greeks, are written by\na master of vivid realism, who is less concerned with character-drawing.\nThe unwearied Hector, the cautious \u00c6neas, the vaunting, splendid,\nbarbarian prince, the fiercely loyal charioteer\u2014these are all obvious\ntypes. The only really fine stroke of psychological insight occurs where\nHector, himself reckless at first, is by the absurd presumptuousness\nof Rhesus forced into discretion.[776] What really stirs one is the\nthrilling atmosphere of danger and the magical little lyric[777] which\nfalls half-carelessly from the wearied sentries when the night begins to\nwane:\u2014\n\n                  Hark! Hark!\n        That voice, as of a thousand strings!\n    The nightingale, where Simois moves along\n                  \u2019Mid corpses stark!\n        Upon the listening air she flings\n        Her grief transfus\u00e8d into song.\n        E\u2019en now on Ida graze the sheep.\n        One distant pipe through darkness cries\n                  Over the upland lawn.\n        Now layeth velvet-footed sleep\n        Enchantment on my drooping eyes,\n                  Sweetest at hush of dawn.\n\nSome ancient critics denied that Euripides wrote the _Rhesus_, and the\ngreat majority of modern scholars have accepted this view.[778] The\nevidence for Euripidean authorship is as follows: (i) The play comes\ndown to us in the manuscripts of that poet. (ii) That Euripides wrote\na _Rhesus_ is known from the _Didascali\u00e6_ or Dramatic Records. (iii)\nEarly Alexandrian writers quote passages from our text as from \u201cthe\n_Rhesus_ of Euripides\u201d. On the other side are (i) a statement in the\n_Argument_:[779] \u201cSome have suspected this drama to be spurious, and not\nthe work of Euripides, for it reveals rather the Sophoclean manner\u201d;\n(ii) various features of the work which modern critics have regarded as\nsuggesting an inferior playwright: (_a_) the plot is superficial; (_b_)\nthere is no prologue;[780] (_c_) four actors are needed; (_d_) \u00c6neas and\nParis have practically nothing to do; (_e_) the chorus is employed in a\nmanner foreign to Euripidean plays; (_f_) there is a lack of force and\npathos; (_g_) there is no rhetoric; (_h_) there is no sententiousness;\n(_i_) we have here the beginning of historical drama, which is later than\nthe fifth century; (_j_) the style is eclectic: imitations of \u00c6schylus,\nSophocles, and Euripides are to be observed.[781]\n\nSeveral of these objections are plainly unfounded. Four actors are\nnot clearly necessary, as was shown above. Pathos, of a kind quite\nEuripidean, is to be found in the scene where the Muse laments her\nglorious son. And how deny rhetorical force to a poet who can write such\nbrilliantly vigorous things as:\u2014\n\n    Aye, friends in plenty shall I find, now Heaven\n    Stands firm for us, and Fortune guides my sword.\n    I need them not! Where hid they those long years\n    When Troy, a galleon with her canvas rent,\n    Reeled onward through war\u2019s shrieking hurricane?[782]\n\nThe high-hearted defence[783] of Rhesus is full of the same tingling\nrhetoric. Yet many critics[784] of the highest rank have denied\nEuripidean authorship to the _Rhesus_. On the other side stands[785] the\ntestimony of the almost contemporary record. One consideration, obvious\nyet too often ignored, may help us. The earliest work of Euripides to\nwhich we can assign a date\u2014the _Alcestis_\u2014belongs to the year 438. The\npoet was then at least forty-two years old. Is it beyond belief that\ntwenty years before the _Alcestis_ the youthful dramatist composed a\nstirring tale of war and hair-breadth escape, which owed much to the\nmanner of \u00c6schylus, especially in his handling of the chorus? During\nthe period for which we have evidence, he was constantly testing the\npossibilities of his art. Need we assume that until the _Alcestis_ he had\nnot advanced?\n\nThe soundest view appears to be that we have here a very early work\nof Euripides. This is confirmed by the critic Crates, an Academic\nphilosopher of the second century before Christ, who asserted that\nEuripides was still young when he wrote the _Rhesus_.[786] To this should\nbe added whatever help may be drawn from contemporary history. It is\nnatural to suppose that when this drama was composed Athenian politics\nwere closely concerned with Thrace. An Athenian colony at Nine Ways,\nafterwards called Amphipolis, was destroyed by the Thracians in 465 B.C.\nIn 436 the place was resettled under the new name by Hagnon, who brought\nthe bones of Rhesus from the Troad back to Thrace. The later year, as\nconnected with the hero, would seem the more suitable, were it not for\nthe words[787] of his mother who refuses burial for her son and proclaims\nhis strange life after death: \u201chidden in caverns of the silver-yielding\nsoil he shall lie as a human spirit, still living\u201d. Such language would\nrather be avoided after the bones themselves had been visibly committed\nto Thracian earth. On the whole, one thinks the situation more suitable\nto some period, anterior to Hagnon\u2019s expedition, when Thracian politics\nwere in the air, perhaps quite soon after the disaster of 465 B.C.[788]\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nOf the lost plays we have about eleven hundred fragments. Few of these\ncomprise more than three or four lines, but a fair conception of several\ndramas can be formed from reports of the plot, parodies by Aristophanes,\nand the remains themselves.\n\nThe TELEPHUS was acted in 438 B.C., together with _The Cretan Women_,\n_Alcm\u00e6on at Psophis_, and _Alcestis_. Sophocles won the first prize,\nEuripides the second. Telephus, King of Mysia, was wounded by Achilles\nwhen the Greeks invaded Mysia in mistake for Troy. His wound would\nnot heal, and he entered his enemies\u2019 country disguised as a beggar,\nto consult the Delphic oracle, which declared that \u201cthe wounder would\nheal him\u201d. Meanwhile the Greek heroes were deliberating at Argos about\na second expedition. Agamemnon refused to set forth again, and uttered\nto Menelaus the celebrated words: \u03a3\u03c0\u03ac\u03c1\u03c4\u03b7\u03bd \u1f14\u03bb\u03b1\u03c7\u03b5\u03c2\u00b7 \u03c4\u03b1\u03cd\u03c4\u03b7\u03bd \u03ba\u03cc\u03c3\u03bc\u03b5\u03b9\u2014\u201cSparta\nis thy place: make thereof the best\u201d. While the council was in progress\nTelephus begged audience. His disguise was penetrated by Odysseus,\nand he was about to be slain when he snatched up the infant Orestes,\nthreatening to kill the child if the Greeks molested him. He was given a\nhearing and justified his action in fighting the Greeks when they invaded\nhis country. His hearers were won over, but it was found that Achilles\nhad no knowledge of medicine. Odysseus suggested that the real \u201cwounder\u201d\nwas Achilles\u2019 spear. Telephus was thus healed, and in his gratitude\nconsented to guide the Greeks to Troy.\n\nWe possess in the _Acharnians_ of Aristophanes an elaborate and brilliant\nparody of the interview granted to Telephus. Dic\u00e6opolis, an Athenian\nfarmer who has made peace on his own account with Sparta, is attacked\nby his fellow-citizens, the charcoal-burners of Acharn\u00e6, and only\nobtains leave to plead his cause by threatening to slay their darling\u2014a\ncoal-basket. Then he begs from Euripides the beggar\u2019s outfit of Telephus,\nand, returning, delivers a clever harangue denouncing the war. The\nbaby-hostage idea Aristophanes used again in the _Thesmophoriazus\u00e6_,\nwhere Mnesilochus, in great danger from the infuriated women, seizes\nthe infant which one of them is carrying, only to find it a concealed\nwine-skin.\n\nPHILOCTETES was produced in 431 B.C. with the _Medea_, _Dictys_,\nand _Harvesters_ (\u0398\u03b5\u03c1\u03b9\u03c3\u03c4\u03b1\u03af), when both Euripides and Sophocles were\ndefeated by Euphorion, the son of \u00c6schylus. Our knowledge is derived\nalmost wholly from Dio Chrysostom[789] who compares the three plays\ncalled _Philoctetes_ by \u00c6schylus, Sophocles, and Euripides. He offers\ninteresting comments on the differences in plot. In Euripides, as\nin \u00c6schylus, the chorus consists of Lemnian men, but the later poet\nanticipates criticism by making his chorus apologize for not visiting\nthe sufferer earlier. One Lemnian, by name Actor, takes part as a friend\nof Philoctetes. The \u201cprologue\u201d is spoken by Odysseus (here working with\nDiomedes, not Neoptolemus, as in Sophocles) who explains that he would\nnot have undertaken this present task for fear of being recognized\nby Philoctetes, had not Athena changed his appearance. (Here, as in\nthe apology offered by the chorus, we have implied criticism[790] on\n\u00c6schylus.) The Trojans are sending an embassy in the hope of gaining\nPhiloctetes. Later in the drama, no doubt, occurred a set dispute between\nthe Greek and the Trojan envoys.\n\nIn the BELLEROPHON Euripides seems to have gone to the extreme in\ndepicting the passionate atheism inspired by the sight of prosperous\nwickedness. \u201cIf the gods do aught base,\u201d he exclaims in a famous line,\n\u201cthey are not gods.\u201d Another vigorous fragment begins:\u2014\n\n    Then dare men say that there are gods in Heaven?\n    Nay, nay! There are not. Fling the tale away,\n    The ancient lie by human folly bred!\n    Base not your judgment on these words of mine\u2014\n    Use but your eyes.\n\nBellerophon ascended to Heaven on his winged steed Pegasus in order to\nremonstrate with Zeus. This idea is used farcically in Aristophanes\u2019\n_Peace_, where Tryg\u00e6us ascends on a monstrous beetle.\n\nERECHTHEUS was a beautiful picture of patriotism. Athens being attacked\nby the Eleusinians and Thracians, King Erechtheus was told by the\nDelphic oracle that he could secure victory for Athens by sacrificing\nhis daughter. His wife Praxithea, in a speech of passionate patriotism,\nconsented to give up her child; Swinburne has used this fragment in\nhis own _Erechtheus_. Another long fragment contains the advice which\nErechtheus gives to his son, and which in its dry precision curiously\nresembles the farewell of Polonius to Laertes. While the issue of battle\nremains uncertain, the chorus of old Athenians sing a lyric which\ncharmingly renders their yearning for peace:\n\n    Along my spear, at last laid by,\n      May spiders weave their shining thread;\n    May peace and music, ere I die,\n      With garlands crown my whitening head.\n\n    I\u2019d deck Athene\u2019s cloistered fane\n      With shields of Thracian mountaineers,\n    And ope the well-loved page again\n      Where poets sing across the years.\n\nAnother popular play was the ANTIOPE. It dealt with the persecution of\nAntiope by Lycus, King of Thebes, and his wife Dirce. She was rescued\nfrom death by her two sons, Amphion and Zethus, whom she had been\ncompelled to abandon at birth, and who discovered the relationship in the\ncritical hour. The chief interest of the play was the contrast between\nthe brothers\u2014Zethus a man of muscle, devoted to farming; Amphion, a\nmusician and lover of the arts. Euripides developed this contrast in\na long debate wherein culture was upheld against the \u201cPhilistine\u201d. We\nstill read one criticism of myth which recalls a blunt passage of the\n_Ion_.[791] Story said that Antiope\u2019s sons were the offspring of Zeus,\nbut Amphion has the hardihood to express doubt to his mother herself.\n\nWith the _Helen_ (B.C. 412) was produced a work of the first\nimportance\u2014the ANDROMEDA, a charming love-story full of romance and\npoetical loveliness. It was immensely popular; Aristophanes gives in his\n_Thesmophoriazus\u00e6_ a parody as elaborate as that of _Telephus_ in the\n_Acharnians_, and it was a perusal of this drama which excited Dionysus\nin the _Frogs_ to descend to Hades for the purpose of fetching back the\ndead playwright. Lucian[792] tells how Archelaus, the tragic actor, came\nto Abdera and performed the _Andromeda_. The whole town grew crazy over\nit. \u201cThey used to sing the solo from the _Andromeda_ and recite Perseus\u2019\nspeech from beginning to end. The town swarmed with these actors of a\nweek\u2019s standing, pale and lean, shouting with all the strength of their\nlungs\n\n    O Love, of gods and men tyrannic Lord,\n\nand all the rest of it. This went on for a long time, in fact till\nwinter, when a severe frost cured them of their nonsense.\u201d The\n_Andromeda_ points forward to the novel, and it is interesting to note\nthat in the best Greek novel\u2014the _\u00c6thiopica_ of Heliodorus, who wrote\nabout eight hundred years after Euripides\u2019 death\u2014the heroine\u2019s father,\nlike Andromeda\u2019s, was an \u00c6thiopian king.\n\nScanty as are the remnants of this drama, we can still form some idea of\nits structure.[793] \u201cIt is the crowning virtue of all great art that,\nhowever little is left of it by the injuries of time, that little will\nbe lovely.\u201d[794] The country of Cepheus, the Ethiope king, was ravaged\nby a sea-monster, and the only help lay in sacrificing to the creature\nAndromeda, the king\u2019s daughter, who was bound to a rock and left as his\nprey. At this point the action begins. It is still night and from the\ncliff rises the lament of the captive:\u2014\n\n        O solemn night,\n      How slow thy coursers trace,\n    Amid the holy Heaven star-bedight,\n      Their pathway through the deeps of space!\n\nAt each pause in her song comes the voice of Echo repeating the sad\nsyllables, till Andromeda is joined by the maidens who form the chorus.\nThe lyric dialogue concluded, it seems[795] that the father and mother,\nCepheus and Cassiopeia, enter and that there is some talk of attacking\nthe monster; Phineus, brother of the king and the affianced of Andromeda,\nshrinks from the risk. But now comes unlooked-for aid. Perseus, fresh\nfrom his slaughter of the Gorgon, arrives, borne through the air on\nhis winged sandals. Though Zeus is his father, in this play he figures\nas the lowly hero familiar in our own fairy-tales. Certainly he appears\nto be contrasted with the rich but cowardly Phineus, and the helpless\ndespairing king. His first words have been preserved:\u2014\n\n    Gods! To what alien kingdom am I come\n    On sandals swift, between the earth and Heaven\n    Journeying homewards on these wing\u00e8d feet?...\n    But soft! what crag is that by tossing foam\n    Surrounded? Lo, the statue of a maid\n    Hewn from the living rock by patient art,\n    Its craftsman\u2019s master-work!\n\nDrawing near, he perceives that this thing of beauty is a living maiden,\nand at once longs to make her his bride. When she asks his name, instead\nof proudly claiming Zeus as his father, he mentions his own name, his\njourney\u2019s end, and his achievement:\u2014\n\n    \u03a0\u03b5\u03c1\u03c3\u03b5\u03cd\u03c2, \u03c0\u03c1\u1f78\u03c2 \u1f0c\u03c1\u03b3\u03bf\u03c2 \u03bd\u03b1\u03c5\u03c3\u03c4\u03bf\u03bb\u1ff6\u03bd, \u03c4\u1f78 \u0393\u03bf\u03c1\u03b3\u03cc\u03bd\u03bf\u03c2\n    \u03ba\u03ac\u03c1\u03b1 \u03ba\u03bf\u03bc\u03af\u03b6\u03c9\u03bd.\n\nBut he is no medi\u00e6val knight; he does not forbear to state his claim\nbefore addressing himself to the task: \u201cAnd if I save thee, maid, wilt\ngive me thanks?\u201d Andromeda, on her side, feels and speaks without\nsubtlety:\u2014\n\n    Stranger, have pity on my sore distress:\n    Free me from bonds,\n\nand again\n\n    Take me, O stranger, for thy handmaiden,\n    Or wife, or slave.\n\nBefore encountering the monster Perseus comes to an understanding with\nCepheus and goes forth to the conflict, calling upon Eros to aid his\nchosen:\u2014\n\n    O Love, of gods and men tyrannic Lord,\n    Either teach Beauty to unlearn her power,\n    Or speed true lovers, through th\u2019 adventurous maze\n    That in thy name they enter, to success.\n    So shall all men to thee pay reverence.\n    Refuse, and lo! thy glories fade to naught\n    E\u2019en through thy very boon of wakened hearts.\n\nTwo or three lines picture the grateful crowd of rustics who surrounded\nthe victor: \u201call the shepherd-folk flowed around him, one bringing an\nivy-bowl of milk for his refreshing, another the joyous grape-juice\u201d.\nPhineus sought to assert his claim upon Andromeda, but was repulsed by\nher father. Later the maiden\u2019s parents themselves begged her not to leave\nthem desolate. In a thrilling[796] reply she declared that she would\ncleave to her husband. Then follows mention of a wedding-feast, and at\nthe close it seems probable that Athena foretold the future.\n\nOf the PHAETHON we are fortunate in possessing two unusually long\nfragments of seventy and seventy-five lines respectively. It is an\nexciting and romantic story\u2014the legend of Phaethon, child of the Sun-god,\nwho called upon his father to prove their relationship by permitting him\nfor one day to drive the chariot of the Sun. This conception, gorgeous\nwith the spirit of adventure and an un-Greek yearning for what transcends\nmortal power, seems to have filled the whole play with glow and rushing\nmovement. A fragment of the prologue marks this at once: it tells how\nClymene is wedded\n\n              To Merops, lord of this our land\n    Which first of all the earth the Sun-God smites\n    With golden radiance of his risen car,\n    Nam\u2019d by black-visaged folk that dwell around\n    The gleaming stable of the Sun and Dawn.\n\nFrom Strabo,[797] to whom we owe this extract, we learn that the palace\nof Merops is close to the abode of the Sun-god. This notion that the\nyouth\u2019s home is only an hour\u2019s walk from the palace of the Sun, gives a\nsense of delightful verisimilitude.[798] It appears that Phaethon in this\nprologue tells how his father Merops plans to marry him to a goddess, but\nthat he himself is unwilling.[799] Clymene, his mother, to persuade her\nson that he will not be distastefully united to one vastly his superior,\nreveals that he is the son not of Merops but of the Sun-god, Helios,\nwho promised her long ago that he would grant her child one wish. Let\nPhaethon approach Helios with some request, and prove her story. The\nprince resolves to do so. The chorus of female attendants enter with a\nlovely song in honour of Phaethon\u2019s wedding; they picture the whole earth\nawakening to daily activities. Next appears the king, who describes the\nbrilliant future which awaits his son.[800] Phaethon views with distaste\nthis life of easeful splendour; to him at this moment may well be\nattributed the vigorous words[801]\n\n    Each nook of earth that feeds me is my home.\n\nGoethe has indicated, with splendid insight, the dramatic power which\nmust have filled this scene: the aged king offering the easy joys of\nriches and a royal home to this youth already burning in secret for the\nhigh enterprise of seeking his real and divine father.\n\nLater the interview was described between Phaethon and Helios, who\nafter seeking to dissuade him, granted his request and added anxious\ninstructions:\u2014\n\n    \u201cLet not thy steeds invade the Afric sky:\n    Its temper hath no moistness, and thy wheels\n    Downward must sink....\n    Direct thy path toward the Pleiads Seven.\u201d\n    Impatient of the rest, he snatched the reins\n    And smote the wing\u00e8d coursers till they flew\n    Unchecked thro\u2019 opening vistas of the heaven.\n    His father, mounted on a blazing star,\n    Rode after, warning him: \u201cDrive thither, boy!\u201d\n    \u201cWheel yonder!\u201d\n\nThe messenger seems to have continued with a picture of Phaethon\u2019s fall.\nThe body, still giving off the smoke of destruction, is next brought in,\nand we possess part of Clymene\u2019s frantic speech. Her grief is mingled\nwith terror: the strange manner of her son\u2019s death may provoke her\nhusband Merops to inquiry and reflexion and so her long-past union\nwith the Sun-god may come to light. She bids them hide the body in the\ntreasure-chamber, of which she alone holds the keys. Soon the king enters\namid lyric strains celebrating the marriage-day of Phaethon. He is giving\norders for merry-making when a servant hurries out to inform him that the\ntreasure-chamber is giving forth clouds of smoke. Merops hastens within,\nand the chorus bewail the disclosure which is imminent. In a moment the\nstricken father is heard returning with lamentation. The course of the\nlast scene is not certain, but probably a god reconciled the king and his\nwife, giving directions for the disposal of Phaethon\u2019s body; a beautiful\nbut obscure fragment,[802] redolent with the charm of breezes and\nmurmuring boughs after all this blaze and splendour, seems to point to\nthe story of Phaethon\u2019s sisters, who mourned him beside the western waters\nand were transformed into poplars. This god was probably Oceanus,[803]\nthe father of Clymene. He alone (deity of the world-encircling water)\ncould give unity to these two pictures, the radiant eastern land of\nPhaethon\u2019s youthful enterprise, and the distant western river where his\nsorrows and his end are bathed in dim beauty.\n\nThis sketch allows us to realize how much we have lost in the _Phaethon_.\nThe romantic events and setting recall the _Andromeda_. Clymene\u2019s sorrow\nand shame mingle strangely with the gallant enterprise and bright charm\nof the whole, somewhat as Creusa\u2019s story is contrasted with the fresh\ncheerfulness of Ion. Above all, the noble simplicity and high-hearted\nadventurousness of Phaethon, inspired by his new-found kinship with a\ngod and chafing at the placid programme of domestic honour and luxury\nwhich his supposed father sets before him\u2014this is a concept of boundless\npromise.\n\nThe HYPSIPYLE,[804] which was produced late[805] in Euripides\u2019 life,\nis specially interesting through the discovery in 1906 of extensive\nfragments at Oxyrhynchus in Egypt. Previously it was known by scanty\nquotations of no great interest, though apparently much prized in ancient\ntimes.[806] The plot is now in the main clear. Hypsipyle, grand-daughter\nof the god Dionysus and daughter of Thoas, King of Lemnos, was exiled\nbecause she refused to join in the massacre of the Lemnian men by their\nwomen. Previously she had borne twin sons to Jason. These she lost when\nexpelled from her home. She is now slave to Eurydice, Queen of Nemea in\nthe north of the Peloponnese, and nurse to her infant son Opheltes. Her\nown sons come in quest of her, and without recognizing their mother are\nentertained in the palace. Hypsipyle is quieting the child with a song\nand a rattle when the chorus of Nemean women enter. Next certain soldiers\narrive from the host which the seven chieftains are leading against\nThebes. Their commander, the prince Amphiaraus, explains that the army\nis in need of water, and Hypsipyle consents to show them a spring. Later\nshe returns in anguish: during her absence the child has been killed\nby a great serpent. Eurydice is about to slay her, when she appeals to\nAmphiaraus, who pleads her cause and promises Eurydice that the Greeks\nshall found a festival in honour of the child. (This festival is that\nof the famous Nemean Games.) He sees that this fatal accident is a bad\nomen for the enterprise of the Seven, and names the child Archemorus[807]\ninstead of Opheltes. Eurydice is appeased. Later we find Hypsipyle\nand her sons made known to one another, and the god Dionysus appears,\napparently to arrange future events.\n\nThough there is one difficulty as to the plot, namely, that we do not\nknow what function was assigned to Hypsipyle\u2019s sons\u2014they cannot have been\nintroduced merely for the recognition-scene\u2014the whole conception strikes\none as simple and masterly. It has been well remarked[808] that while\na modern dramatist would have omitted the Theban expedition, \u201cnothing\nseemed to the Greeks worthy of contemplation in the theatre by a great\npeople, unless it had some connexion with the exploits and the history of\nnations.... On the same canvas the death of one little child and the doom\nof the seven chieftains with their crowding battalions are depicted in a\nperspective which sets the former fatality in the foreground.\u201d\n\nThe captive princess, even through the ruins of the text, shines forth\nwith great charm. Her whole life centres round her lost children and the\nbrief magical time of her union with Jason. The chorus reproach her with\nher indifference to the exciting presence of Adrastus\u2019 great army\u2014she\nwill think of nothing save Argo and the Fleece. When at point to die\nher spirit flashes back to those old days in a few words of amazing\npoignancy:\u2014\n\n    \u1f66 \u03c0\u03c1\u1ff7\u03c1\u03b1 \u03ba\u03b1\u1f76 \u03bb\u03b5\u03c5\u03ba\u03b1\u1fd6\u03bd\u03bf\u03bd \u1f10\u03be \u1f05\u03bb\u03bc\u03b7\u03c2 \u1f55\u03b4\u03c9\u03c1\n    \u1f08\u03c1\u03b3\u03bf\u1fe6\u03c2, \u1f30\u1f7c \u03c0\u03b1\u1fd6\u03b4\u2019....\n\n\u201cAh, prow of Argo and the brine that flashed into whiteness! ah, my\ntwo sons!\u201d Her talk with them towards the end is a pathetic and lovely\npassage equal to anything Euripides ever wrote in this kind.\n\nMELANIPPE THE WISE[809] appears to have been a drama of unusual personal\ninterest. \u00c6olus espoused Hippe, whose daughter Melanippe became by\nPoseidon mother of twin sons. The god bade her hide them from \u00c6olus,\nand they were discovered by grooms in the care of a bull and a cow.\nThey, supposing the children miraculous offspring of these animals,\nreported their discovery to \u00c6olus, who decided to expiate the portent by\nburning the infants alive. Melanippe was instructed to shroud them for\ndeath. In order to save her children without revealing her own secret\nshe denied the possibility of such portentous births, but seems to have\nfound herself forced at length to confess in order to prove the natural\norigin of the infants. \u00c6olus condemned her to be blinded and imprisoned,\nher offspring to be exposed. Her mother Hippe appeared as _dea ex\nmachina_[810] and saved her kin.\n\nThe great feature of this play was the heroine\u2019s speech in which she\nsought to convince her father that such a portent was impossible.\nLines from the opening of this argument are preserved: \u201cThe story is\nnot mine\u2014from my mother have I learned how Heaven and earth were once\nmingled in substance; when they separated into twain they engendered and\nbrought into the light of day all creatures, the trees, birds, beasts,\nnurslings of the sea, and the race of men\u201d. The speech was an elaborate\nscientific sermon to disprove the possibility of miracles. Similarly,\naccording to a famous story, the drama opened originally with the line:\n\u201cZeus, whoever Zeus may be, for only by stories do I know of him ...\u201d;\nbut this open agnosticism gave such offence that Euripides produced the\nplay again with the words: \u201cZeus, as Truth relates....\u201d A different but\nclosely-connected source of interest is the fact that here Euripides\nveiled his own personality less thinly than usual. That Melanippe was\nonly his mouthpiece appears to have been a recognized fact. Dionysius of\nHalicarnassus[811] observes that it presents a double character, that\nof the poet, and that of Melanippe; and Lucian[812] selects the remark\non Zeus in the prologue as a case where the poet is speaking his own\nviews. The \u201cmother\u201d from whom \u201cMelanippe\u201d learned her philosophy has been\nidentified with the great metaphysician and scientist Anaxagoras, who was\nbanished from Athens in 430 B.C.; and it is natural to suppose that this\n_Melanippe_ is not much later than that year, perhaps much earlier[813]\nin view of the strongly didactic manner.[814] Hartung refers to this play\nthe splendid fragment:\u2014\n\n    \u1f44\u03bb\u03b2\u03b9\u03bf\u03c2 \u1f45\u03c3\u03c4\u03b9\u03c2 \u03c4\u1fc6\u03c2 \u1f31\u03c3\u03c4\u03bf\u03c1\u03af\u03b1\u03c2\n    \u1f14\u03c3\u03c7\u03b5 \u03bc\u03ac\u03b8\u03b7\u03c3\u03b9\u03bd, \u03bc\u03ae\u03c4\u03b5 \u03c0\u03bf\u03bb\u03b9\u03c4\u1ff6\u03bd\n    \u1f10\u03c0\u1f76 \u03c0\u03b7\u03bc\u03bf\u03c3\u03cd\u03bd\u1fc3 \u03bc\u03ae\u03c4\u2019 \u03b5\u1f30\u03c2 \u1f00\u03b4\u03af\u03ba\u03bf\u03c5\u03c2\n    \u03c0\u03c1\u03ac\u03be\u03b5\u03b9\u03c2 \u1f41\u03c1\u03bc\u1ff6\u03bd,\n    \u1f00\u03bb\u03bb\u2019 \u1f00\u03b8\u03b1\u03bd\u03ac\u03c4\u03bf\u03c5 \u03ba\u03b1\u03b8\u03bf\u03c1\u1ff6\u03bd \u03c6\u03cd\u03c3\u03b5\u03c9\u03c2\n    \u03ba\u03cc\u03c3\u03bc\u03bf\u03bd \u1f00\u03b3\u03ae\u03c1\u03c9, \u03c0\u1fc7 \u03c4\u03b5 \u03c3\u03c5\u03bd\u03ad\u03c3\u03c4\u03b7\n    \u03ba\u03b1\u1f76 \u1f45\u03c0\u1fc3 \u03ba\u03b1\u1f76 \u1f45\u03c0\u03c9\u03c2.\n    \u03c4\u03bf\u1fd6\u03c2 \u03b4\u1f72 \u03c4\u03bf\u03b9\u03bf\u03cd\u03c4\u03bf\u03b9\u03c2 \u03bf\u1f50\u03b4\u03ad\u03c0\u03bf\u03c4\u2019 \u03b1\u1f30\u03c3\u03c7\u03c1\u1ff6\u03bd\n    \u1f14\u03c1\u03b3\u03c9\u03bd \u03bc\u03b5\u03bb\u03ad\u03c4\u03b7\u03bc\u03b1 \u03c0\u03c1\u03bf\u03c3\u03af\u03b6\u03b5\u03b9.\n\n\u201cHappy is he who hath won deep learning. He setteth himself neither to\nhurt his fellow-citizens nor towards works of iniquity, but fixeth his\ngaze upon the ageless order of immortal Nature, the laws and methods of\nits creation. Unto such a man never doth there cling the plotting of\nbase deeds.\u201d If these lines point at Anaxagoras and belong to our play,\nthe two significant clauses which defend the moral character of the\nphilosopher in question indicate the year 430 itself.\n\nThe CRESPHONTES had immense success as a powerful melodrama. Polyphontes,\nhaving slain his brother Cresphontes, King of Messenia, seized his\nthrone and married his widow Merope, who sent her infant son Cresphontes\naway to safe keeping in \u00c6tolia. When he grew up he returned to avenge\nhis father. At this point the action begins. Cresphontes seems to have\ndelivered the prologue; since Polyphontes fearing his return has offered\na reward to whoever shall slay him, he has determined to win the usurper\u2019s\nconfidence by claiming to have destroyed his enemy. Meanwhile, Merope,\nalarmed by the proclamation of the king, has sent an aged slave to find\nwhether Cresphontes is well; he returns with tidings that the prince\nhas disappeared from \u00c6tolia. Merope gives her son over for lost, and\nobserving the youthful stranger who is received with joy by the king,\nshe becomes convinced that he is the murderer of her son. While he lies\nasleep she steals upon him with an axe, when the old slave recognizes the\nstranger and stops her arm. Mother and son are united, and at once plot\nto slay Polyphontes. Merope pretends to be reconciled to the king, who in\nhis joy goes to sacrifice, accompanied by the youth, who takes advantage\nof a suitable moment to slay his enemy.\n\nPlutarch, nearly six centuries later, testifies[815] to the sensation\nwhich the Recognition caused in the audience. Merope herself seems to\nhave been a figure ranking with Hecuba in the _Troades_. The tidings of\nher son\u2019s death draw from her words which in their quiet dignity of grief\nhave something of Wordsworth:\u2014\n\n    Children have died ere now, not mine alone,\n    And wives been widow\u2019d. Yea, this cup of life\n    Unnumber\u2019d women have drain\u2019d it, as do I....\n                      ... Insistent Fate,\n    Taking in fee the lives of all I lov\u2019d,\n    Hath made me wise.\n\nProbably it was Merope again who uttered the famous lines which advise\nlament over the newly-born and a glad procession to accompany the\ndead. The recognition-scene is singled out for especial praise by\nAristotle.[816]\n\nThe fragments of this tragedy include a perfect jewel of lyric poetry, a\nprayer to Peace:\u2014\n\n    \u0395\u1f30\u03c1\u03ae\u03bd\u03b1 \u03b2\u03b1\u03b8\u03cd\u03c0\u03bb\u03bf\u03c5\u03c4\u03b5 \u03ba\u03b1\u1f76\n    \u03ba\u03b1\u03bb\u03bb\u03af\u03c3\u03c4\u03b1 \u03bc\u03b1\u03ba\u03ac\u03c1\u03c9\u03bd \u03b8\u03b5\u1ff6\u03bd,\n    \u03b6\u1fc6\u03bb\u03cc\u03c2 \u03bc\u03bf\u03b9 \u03c3\u03ad\u03b8\u03b5\u03bd, \u1f61\u03c2 \u03c7\u03c1\u03bf\u03bd\u03af\u03b6\u03b5\u03b9\u03c2.\n    \u03b4\u03ad\u03b4\u03bf\u03b9\u03ba\u03b1 \u03b4\u1f72 \u03bc\u1f74 \u03c0\u03c1\u1f76\u03bd \u03c0\u03cc\u03bd\u03bf\u03b9\u03c2\n    \u1f51\u03c0\u03b5\u03c1\u03b2\u03ac\u03bb\u1fc3 \u03bc\u03b5 \u03b3\u1fc6\u03c1\u03b1\u03c2,\n    \u03c0\u03c1\u1f76\u03bd \u03c3\u1f70\u03bd \u03c7\u03b1\u03c1\u03af\u03b5\u03c3\u03c3\u03b1\u03bd \u1f65\u03c1\u03b1\u03bd \u03c0\u03c1\u03bf\u03c3\u03b9\u03b4\u03b5\u1fd6\u03bd\n    \u03ba\u03b1\u1f76 \u03ba\u03b1\u03bb\u03bb\u03b9\u03c7\u03cc\u03c1\u03bf\u03c5\u03c2 \u1f00\u03bf\u03b9\u03b4\u1f70\u03c2\n    \u03c6\u03b9\u03bb\u03bf\u03c3\u03c4\u03b5\u03c6\u03ac\u03bd\u03bf\u03c5\u03c2 \u03c4\u03b5 \u03ba\u03ce\u03bc\u03bf\u03c5\u03c2.\n    \u1f34\u03b8\u03b9 \u03bc\u03bf\u03b9, \u03c0\u03cc\u03c4\u03bd\u03b1, \u03c0\u03cc\u03bb\u03b9\u03bd.\n    \u03c4\u1f70\u03bd \u03b4\u2019 \u1f10\u03c7\u03b8\u03c1\u1f70\u03bd \u03c3\u03c4\u03ac\u03c3\u03b9\u03bd \u03b5\u1f36\u03c1\u03b3\u2019 \u1f00\u03c0\u2019 \u03bf\u1f34-\n    \u03ba\u03c9\u03bd \u03c4\u1f70\u03bd \u03bc\u03b1\u03b9\u03bd\u03bf\u03bc\u03ad\u03bd\u03b1\u03bd \u03c4\u2019 \u1f14\u03c1\u03b9\u03bd\n    \u03b8\u03b7\u03ba\u03c4\u1ff7 \u03c4\u03b5\u03c1\u03c0\u03bf\u03bc\u03ad\u03bd\u03b1\u03bd \u03c3\u03b9\u03b4\u03ac\u03c1\u1ff3.\n\nA paraphrase might run thus:\u2014\n\n    O Peace, thou givest plenty as from a deep spring: there is no\n    beauty like unto thine, no, not even among the blessed gods.\n\n    My heart yearneth within me, for thou tarriest; I grow old and\n    thou returnest not.\n\n    Shall weariness overcome mine eyes before they see thy bloom\n    and thy comeliness? When the lovely songs of the dancers are\n    heard again, and the thronging feet of them that wear garlands,\n    shall grey hairs and sorrow have destroyed me utterly?\n\n    Return, thou Holy One, to our city: abide not far from us, thou\n    that quenchest wrath.\n\n    Strife and bitterness shall depart, if thou art with us:\n    madness and the edge of the sword shall flee away from our\n    doors.\n\nMatthew Arnold\u2019s _Merope_ has the same plot and includes a\nrecognition-scene which probably resembles the lost original closely. His\nconception of Polyphontes is thoroughly Euripidean.\n\nOf the other lost plays little can be said here. Still amid this faint\nglow of star-dust many marvellous things are to be discerned\u2014words of\ntremulous tenderness from the _Danae_ describing the charm of infancy; a\nline from _Ino_ which in its powerful grimness recalls \u00c6schylus, \u201clike\na lone beast, he lurks in caves unlit\u201d;[817] out of the _Polyidus_ the\ncelebrated query,\n\n    Who knows of life that it is aught but death,\n    And death aught else than life beyond the grave?[818]\n\nFrom an unknown drama comes a line which owes its preservation to St.\nPaul[819]:\n\n    \u03c6\u03b8\u03b5\u03af\u03c1\u03bf\u03c5\u03c3\u03b9\u03bd \u1f24\u03b8\u03b7 \u03c7\u03c1\u03ae\u03c3\u03b8\u2019 \u1f41\u03bc\u03b9\u03bb\u03af\u03b1\u03b9 \u03ba\u03b1\u03ba\u03b1\u03af,\n\n\u201cevil communications corrupt good manners\u201d. Euripides\u2019 cosmopolitan\nsympathy nowhere finds finer expression than in the distich\n\n    Where\u2019er spreads Heaven the eagle cleaves his path;\n    Where\u2019er lies earth the righteous are at home.[820]\n\nBut the student must at his leisure explore the marvels of these\nrock-pools left by the retiring ocean. One majestic passage[821] from the\n_Cretans_ shall suffice to close this survey. The lines are from a march\nsung by the Curetes or priests of the Cretan Zeus, and show that even in\nthe Hellenic world the monastic spirit was not unknown:\u2014\n\n    Thou whom the Tyrian princess bare\n      To mighty Jove, thou Lord of Crete,\n    To whom her hundred cities bow,\n      Lo, I draw near thy judgment-seat,\n\n    Quitting my home, yon hallowed place\n      Where beams of cypress roof the shrine,\n    By far-brought axes lopped and hewn,\n      Close knit by oxen\u2019s blood divine.\n\n    Pure is my life\u2019s unbroken calm\n      Since Zeus to bliss these eyes unsealed;\n    The feast of quivering flesh I shared\n      While through the dark strange thunder pealed.\n\n    The Mountain-Mother heard my vows,\n      And saw my torch the darkness ride;\n    The Hunter named me for his priest,\n      A mail-clad Bacchant sanctified.\n\n    Now robed in white I keep me pure\n      From food that e\u2019er has throbbed with breath;\n    I shun the new-born infant\u2019s cry,\n      And gaze not on the couch of death.\n\nIt now remains for us to attempt a synthesis\u2014to set before ourselves as\nclearly as may be the whole personality of Euripides. We are studying\nnot the programme of a politician, but the spirit and method of a great\nartist, the inspiration of a great teacher. An artist has other things\nto heed than a superficial consistency of presentation; and a teacher\nof permanent value shows his followers not what to think, but how to\nthink\u2014not opinions, but the reasoned basis of opinion. Euripides is a man\nnot of dogmas, nor indeed of negations; he is the apostle of a spirit\nwhich blows whither it lists, setting up a healthful circulation of\ntingling life throughout regions which have languished in the heavy air\nof convention. His work forces us to think and feel for ourselves, not\nnecessarily to think and feel with him.\n\nThe briefest description of his special quality is that he is in the same\nmoment a great artist and a great rationalist\u2014a man profoundly conscious\nof the beauty and value of all life, all existence, all energy, and yet\nan uncompromising critic of the vesture which man throws around those\nparts of the Universe which are subjected to him. No man has ever loved\nand expressed beauty with a mind less swayed by illusion. These two\ninstincts, the instinct to study life in all its unforced manifestations,\nand the instinct to question all conventions, lie at the root of his\nwork. It is in virtue of these that he has been called enigmatic. Like\nRenan he was \u1f00\u03bd\u1f74\u03c1 \u03b4\u03af\u03c8\u03c5\u03c7\u03bf\u03c2, a man of two souls[822]; but he is no more\nan enigma than others. His peculiarity lies herein, that the duality of\nnature often found in ordinary men was by him exhibited at the heights\nof genius. That is why he so often seems labouring to destroy the effect\nhe has created; he is \u201cinconsistent\u201d because he is equally at home in\nthe two worlds of feeling and of thought. Precisely for this reason he\ncreated a new type of drama. Horace Walpole wrote that \u201cLife is a comedy\nto those who think, a tragedy to those who feel\u201d; thus, when a genius of\nEuripides\u2019 type addressed itself to the theatre, the result was drama\nwhich could not but shock people who, bred in the school of \u00c6schylus,\nhad no conception of \u201ctragedy\u201d which could be witty, light, modern,\ndestructive. Menander is the successor of Euripides, not of Aristophanes.\n\nAnyone who follows out these two strands of instinct will understand\nmuch that might seem strange, much that gave offence, in his work. It\nwill be well therefore to bring together the faults which have been\nfound with him in ancient and in later times. Leaving on one side, since\nit is by no means certainly a reproach, the celebrated remark[823] of\nSophocles, \u201cI represent people as they should be, Euripides as they\nare,\u201d we find our chief material in Aristophanes and Aristotle. The\n_Frogs_ contains an elaborate attack upon the tragedian which, whether\nfair or not, has a _prima facie_ reasonableness. Euripides is twitted\nwith moral and literary offences. In the first place, his predilection\nfor depicting the power of love, especially the adulterous or incestuous\npassions of women[824] and the sophistical restlessness of mind which\nhe inculcates,[825] mark him as a corrupter of Athens. On the technical\nside, his music[826] is affected and decadent, the libretto[827] of his\nchoruses is both elaborate and jejune, the style of his iambics[828]\nlacks weight and dignity, his prologues[829] are tiresome and written in\na mechanical fashion. Aristotle in his turn objects to certain weaknesses\nof characterization: Menelaus in the _Orestes_ is particularly bad, the\nspeech of Melanippe\u2014no doubt that celebrated oration on miracles\u2014is\nindecorous and out of character; in the Aulid _Iphigenia_ the heroine\nis inconsistent.[830] He gives two examples[831] of the irrational,\n\u00c6geus in the _Medea_ and Menelaus once more in the _Orestes_. Euripides\u2019\nuse of the _deus ex machina_ is also often bad; he instances Medea\u2019s\nmiraculous chariot. Lastly there is the famous mixture[832] of praise\nand blame: \u201cEuripides, faulty as he is in the general management of his\nsubject, is yet felt to be the most tragic of the poets.\u201d If we pass now\nto modern detractors, we find one fault overshadowing all the rest\u2014bad\nconstruction, what Aristotle calls \u201cepisodic\u201d plots, namely, plays the\nseveral scenes of which are more or less accidentally combined and form\nno organic whole.\n\nThere is truth in some of this fault-finding; whether we are to regard\nsuch features as actually blemishes is another matter. Two certainly are\ndefects of the gravest possible description\u2014\u201cepisodic\u201d plots and the\n_deus ex machina_. If a man produces plays which have no organic unity,\nor which at the close of the action are in such a tangle that a being of\nsuperhuman information and power is necessary to \u201ccut the knot,\u201d he is no\n\u201cunskilful dramatist\u201d but merely a blockhead, for he can always fling his\nrubbish into the fire. So hopelessly damaging are these two accusations\nthat one really cannot believe Euripides obnoxious to them. One might as\nwell allege that Alexander did not understand tactics, or that Pericles\nbelieved Byzantium was in Sicily. The charge of faulty construction has\nbeen considered earlier in connexion with the plays which are supposed\nexamples thereof. But the _deus ex machina_ needs a few words. \u201cThe god\nout of the machine\u201d is a phrase of two applications. It may mean a deity\nbrought in to round off the play by giving information about the future\nhistory of the personages. Or the god may be introduced when the plot,\nowing to the human limitations of the characters, has become knotted\nand progress is impossible; then a being who miraculously knows all the\nfacts appears and \u201ccuts\u201d the knot. In the first case the epiphany is\npractically outside the drama; in the second it is only too vital to it.\nOf the first case there are five[833] instances in the extant plays:\nto these, of course, our grave objection cannot apply. Of the second\ntype there are seven[834] examples if we regard the miraculous car of\nMedea as a \u201cdeus\u201d. _Granted the story which is known to the audience_,\nsuch interventions are necessary. Medea cannot escape the vengeance of\nCorinth, Orestes the verdict of the Argive State, without supernatural\naid; Theseus would, it might seem, never have been persuaded by mortal\nwitness that Hippolytus is innocent; in the Tauric _Iphigenia_ and the\n_Helena_[835] nothing but a miracle can save from death the fugitives\nwho as a matter of \u201chistory\u201d reached home in safety: the _Supplices_\nwould end without the formal compact between rescuers and rescued if the\ngoddess did not intervene; as for the _Ion_, Euripides\u2019 contemporaries\nknew that Delphi still flourished, so that the annihilating investigation\nof Ion must, it appeared, have been somehow arrested. For these seven\nplays, then, we can choose between two theories of the _deus ex machina_\n(in that second sense of a pseudo-dramatic expedient). The first theory\nis that the poet wishes to end with \u201chistorical\u201d truth, but in the\ncourse of his action has so blundered that he cannot naturally do so;\ntherefore he puts forward a god who asserts that the action _shall_\ncontinue as \u201chistory\u201d asserts that it did; so might a competitor in a\nmatch of archery employ a confederate who, whenever his arrow missed the\ntarget, should pick it up and plant it in the white. The other theory is\nthat Euripides intended to work out an interesting situation of legend\nas a study in natural psychology and social development. The situation\naccording to story came to a certain end; according to Euripides that\nwas not the natural end. And he emphasizes this legendary distortion by\npointing out clearly that to square nature and the story nothing less\nthan a miracle is required. To assert that he needed the supernatural\nintervention to save his play is absolutely to reverse the facts. Can we\ndoubt which of these theories is sound?\n\nTwo further questions at once arise. Why did he select situations\nfrom misleading legends? And, is there then no pseudo-dramatic _deus\nex machina_ at all? The first question is of vital importance. It is\nincorrect to say that he was bound by convention to the traditional\nstories; Phrynichus, Agathon, and Moschion all defied this \u201cconvention\u201d.\nEuripides was a student of human thought, of the development of belief,\nas well as a dramatist. Convinced that his contemporaries held false\nbeliefs about the gods and that the myths were largely responsible for\nthis, hypnotizing thought by their beauty and paralyzing logic by their\nauthority, he sets himself to show, not only that they are untrue, but\nalso how, though untrue, they ever won credence. As for the _deus ex\nmachina_ the truth is that he does not exist (save, of course, in the\nr\u00f4le of a non-dramatic narrator). He is, like the three unities, a\nfigment based on uncritical and hasty reading. Outside this poet the\nonly possible case is that of the _Philoctetes_, which has been shown no\ngenuine instance.\n\nWe may now return to the objections raised by Aristophanes and Aristotle.\nThey are all due to the two instincts we have described\u2014his interest\nin every manifestation of life, and his stern rationalism. Most of the\ntechnical flaws, for instance, alleged against him are proofs that he was\nattracted by the possibilities of his own art; he is constantly testing\nthe limits to which development can go. The iambics of the _Orestes_, for\nexample, are extraordinarily full of resolved feet; after that play he\nrestrains himself more. In music too he appears to have been an explorer;\nat any rate the fault found with the words of his choruses points to a\ndevelopment like the modern, in which libretto was becoming subservient\nto music. The comic poet, again, fastens eagerly upon the prologues, and\nputs into the mouth of \u00c6schylus a famous jest:\u2014[836]\n\n    _\u00c6sch._: And now, by Jove, I\u2019ll not smash each phrase word\n    by word, but with heaven\u2019s aid I\u2019ll ruin your prologues with\u2014a\n    little oil-flask.\n\n    _Eur._: An oil-flask? You ... my prologues?\n\n    _\u00c6sch._: Just one little flask. You write so that anything will\n    fit into your iambics\u2014a little fleece, a little flask, a little\n    bag. I\u2019ll show you on the spot.\n\n    _Eur._: Oh! you will?\n\n    _\u00c6sch._: Yes.\n\n    _Dion._: Now you must recite something.\n\n    _Eur._:\n\n        \u201c\u00c6gyptus, as the far-spread story tells,\n        With fifty sons in voyage o\u2019er the deep\n        Landing at Argos....\u201d\n\n    _\u00c6sch._: (interrupting) ... \u201clost his flask of oil\u201d.\n\nSeveral other absurd instances follow.\n\nThis celebrated jest means (i) that Euripides constructs the early\nsentences of his prologue in such a way that a subordinate clause\n(usually containing a participle) leads up to a short main clause at the\nend of the sentence; (ii) that his prologues descend to trivial details;\n(iii) that the _c\u00e6sura_ occurs always in the third foot; (iv) that he\nis viciously addicted to resolved feet. The tragedian can be defended\nfrom these charges, such as they are, but the idea at the back of\nAristophanes\u2019 mind is true, namely, that these prologues are often dull\nperformances. Probably the poet did not intend much more. He wishes to\nput his hearers _au fait_ with the precise legend and the precise point\nwith which he is concerned;[837] as is often said, these passages take\nthe place of a modern play-bill.\n\nLater in the _Frogs_ Dionysus produces a huge pair of scales; each is to\nutter a line into his scale-pan, and the heavier line wins. Euripides\ndeclaims into his pan the opening line of the _Medea_, \u03b5\u1f34\u03b8\u2019 \u1f64\u03c6\u03b5\u03bb\u2019\n\u1f08\u03c1\u03b3\u03bf\u1fe6\u03c2 \u03bc\u1f74 \u03b4\u03b9\u03b1\u03c0\u03c4\u03ac\u03c3\u03b8\u03b1\u03b9 \u03c3\u03ba\u03ac\u03c6\u03bf\u03c2, and his rival \u03a3\u03c0\u03b5\u03c1\u03c7\u03b5\u03b9\u1f72 \u03c0\u03bf\u03c4\u03b1\u03bc\u1f72 \u03b2\u03bf\u03c5\u03bd\u03bf\u03bc\u03bf\u03af \u03c4\u2019\n\u1f10\u03c0\u03b9\u03c3\u03c4\u03c1\u03bf\u03c6\u03b1\u03af. Dionysus absurdly explains that the latter wins because he\nhas put in water like a fraudulent woollen-merchant, while Euripides has\noffered a \u201cword with wings\u201d. Underlying this nonsense is the truth that\nthe \u00c6schylean line is ponderous and slow, that of Euripides light and\nrapid; it is like contrasting Marlowe and Fletcher. The difference is not\nbetween good and bad, but between old and new. \u00c6schylus\u2019 iambic style is\nfitted most admirably for his purpose. But Euripides has not the same\npurpose\u2014that is all. It is one of his most remarkable innovations that he\npractically invented the prose-drama. A very great deal of his \u201cverse\u201d is\nsimply prose which can be scanned. To compare such a passage[838] as:\n\n    \u1f25\u03be\u03b5\u03b9 \u03b3\u1f70\u03c1 \u03b1\u1f50\u03c4\u1f78\u03c2 \u03c3\u1f74\u03bd \u03b4\u03ac\u03bc\u03b1\u03c1\u03c4\u03b1 \u03ba\u03b1\u1f76 \u03c4\u03ad\u03ba\u03bd\u03b1,\n    \u1f15\u03bb\u03be\u03c9\u03bd \u03c6\u03bf\u03bd\u03b5\u03cd\u03c3\u03c9\u03bd \u03ba\u1f04\u03bc\u2019 \u1f10\u03c0\u03b9\u03c3\u03c6\u03ac\u03be\u03c9\u03bd \u1f04\u03bd\u03b1\u03be\u00b7\n    \u03bc\u03ad\u03bd\u03bf\u03bd\u03c4\u03b9 \u03b4\u2019 \u03b1\u1f50\u03c4\u03bf\u1fe6 \u03c0\u03ac\u03bd\u03c4\u03b1 \u03c3\u03bf\u1f76 \u03b3\u03b5\u03bd\u03ae\u03c3\u03b5\u03c4\u03b1\u03b9,\n    \u03c4\u1fc7 \u03c4\u2019 \u1f00\u03c3\u03c6\u03b1\u03bb\u03b5\u03af\u1fb3 \u03ba\u03b5\u03c1\u03b4\u03b1\u03bd\u03b5\u1fd6\u03c2\u00b7 \u03c0\u03cc\u03bb\u03b9\u03bd \u03b4\u1f72 \u03c3\u1f74\u03bd\n    \u03bc\u1f74 \u03c0\u03c1\u1f76\u03bd \u03c4\u03b1\u03c1\u03ac\u03be\u1fc3\u03c2 \u03c0\u03c1\u1f76\u03bd \u03c4\u03cc\u03b4\u2019 \u03b5\u1f56 \u03b8\u03ad\u03c3\u03b8\u03b1\u03b9, \u03c4\u03ad\u03ba\u03bd\u03bf\u03bd,\n\nor a hundred others, with the beacon-speech in _Agamemnon_ or Athena\u2019s\ncharge to the Areopagite court, is to ignore the whole point of a\nliterary revolution. Who would set a page of Hedda Gabler\u2019s conversation\nagainst an extract from _Macbeth_, and affirm that Ibsen could not write\ndialogue?\n\nIbsen, indeed, it is particularly instructive to bear in mind here.\nAccording to him \u201cthe golden rule is that there is no golden rule\u201d.[839]\nDr. Stockman\u2019s nobility consists in telling the truth at all costs.\nGregers Werle insists on that course, and is seen to be a meddlesome\nprig who ruins his friend\u2019s home. Here the Greek and the Norwegian agree\nheartily; for the \u201csophistry\u201d with which many at Athens were disgusted\nis only Euripides\u2019 way of putting his conviction that there is no fixed\nrule of conduct, still less any fixed rule for our self-satisfied\nattempts to praise or blame the abnormal. An impulse of pity ruins Creon\nin the _Medea_; Lycus in the _Heracles_ turns his back on mercy, and is\ndestroyed also. The pride of glorious birth nerves Macaria to heroism;\nof Achilles it makes merely a pathetic sham. Consciousness of sin wrecks\nand tortures Ph\u00e6dra, while to Helen in _Orestes_ it means little more\nthan a picturesque melancholy. Hermione in _Andromache_ and Creusa both\ngo to all lengths in their passionate yearning for domestic happiness;\none destroys her husband and her own future, the other reaps deeper\nbliss than she dared to hope. Iphigenia and Hippolytus serve the same\ngoddess, but amid what different atmospheres and diverse destinies! This\nconsciousness that effort brings about results different from its aims,\nthat chance, whatever chance may be, is too potent to allow any faith\nin orthodox deities, only in moods of despair wrings from the poet such\noutcry as Hecuba\u2019s, that Fate is \u201ca capering idiot\u201d.[840] But it has\nplanted surely in his mind the conviction that there is no golden rule of\nconduct. And hence that \u201clove of forensic rhetoric\u201d of which we hear so\nmuch\u2014each case must be considered on its own merits.\n\nTo this agnosticism we owe not only that treatment of religious legend\nwhich we have already studied but the poet\u2019s greatest achievement.\nSocrates, because, as he said, he could not understand metaphysics or\nastronomy, gave his attention to man. His friend because he despaired\nof a satisfying theology threw his genius into psychological drama. The\ncentre of his interest is the human heart. Only one fact about destiny\ncan be stated as consistently held by him, namely, that the spring of\naction and the chief factor in happiness or misery is, not the will of\nHeaven or dogmatic belief, but the nature (\u03c6\u03cd\u03c3\u03b9\u03c2) of the individual.[841]\nBecause he studies sin, not to condemn but to understand, he has earned\nthat reproach of Aristophanes who rages at his predilection for Ph\u00e6dras\nand Stheneb\u0153as. What attracted him was not a desire to gloat or even to\npardon; it was the fact that the sinners he depicts are so intensely\nalive. A being dead in virtue engaged his interest less than one who,\nhowever evilly, existed with vigour. To this passionate interest in\nhuman life can be referred as basis all the other themes on which he\nspent study. Religion, as we have found, only attracts him because it\nguides or misleads conduct. His political studies have little concern\nwith ethnology or economics; they are only an expansion to a wider field\nof this same interest in sheer humanity. Philosophy and natural science\nare of value for him, as for Lucretius, in that they provide an escape\nfrom paralyzing superstition. If they are presented as a refuge from the\nfacts of life, he will have none of them. When Electra[842] seeks in\nher knowledge of astronomy a far-fetched consolation for self-fostered\nmisery, she strikes us not as heroic but as own kin to the febrile\n\u201cintellectuals\u201d of Tchekov\u2019s _Cherry Orchard_ or the novels of Dostoevsky.\n\nHis dislike of convention in morals is answered by his originality in\nportraiture as well as in dramatic situations. Nothing is more thrilling\nthan to observe how in the hands of a great realist whole masses of human\nbeings come to life. What was the background of one novelist suddenly\nbegins in the pages of another to stir, to articulate itself, to move\nforward and discover a language. \u201cThe men\u201d commanded by Captain Osborne\nin _Vanity Fair_ become Private Ortheris or Corporal Mulvaney in the\npages of Kipling. So in Euripides the dim and familiar background of\n\u201cbarbarians\u201d who existed merely to give colour and outline to Achilles\nand Odysseus, the women who bore the necessary children and ground the\nneeded flour, the henchmen without whom horses would not be groomed or\ntrees felled, suddenly awake and reveal passions of love and hatred,\npathetic histories, opinions about marriage and the grave. In every age\nthe man who points to the disregarded, the dormant, hitherto supposed\nsecurely neutral and plastic, who cries \u201cit is alive, watching you and\nreflecting, waiting its time\u201d\u2014such a man is met in his degree with the\nreception given to Euripides by the elder generation of Athenians. The\nclamour of \u201ccrank!\u201d \u201cfaddist!\u201d \u201cthis is the thin end of the wedge,\u201d and\nkindred watchwords, may be found translated into brilliant Attic by\nAristophanes. But in virtue of these same interests Euripides became the\nBible of later Greek civilization. He would have passed into a fetish had\nit not been that the destructively critical side of his genius prevented\nthe most narrow-minded from reducing him to a system. To the last he\nremains inconclusive, provocative, refreshing.\n\nOn the other side his sensitiveness to all aspects of life\u2014his \u201cfeeling\nfor Beauty\u201d to use the familiar phrase\u2014held him back from mere cynicism.\nThe _Hippolytus_ remains as perhaps the most glorious support in\nliterature for unflinching facing of facts\u2014it shows triumphantly how a\nman may feel all the sorrow and waste which wreck happiness, yet declare\nthe endless value and loveliness of life. We may detect two aspects in\nwhich this joy in life shows itself most markedly\u2014his romance and his wit.\n\nRomance is not improperly contrasted with \u201cclassicism,\u201d but as few Greek\nor Roman writers are classical in the rigid sense it is not surprising to\nfind romantic features outcropping at every period of their literature.\nEuripides himself is the most romantic author between Homer and\nAppuleius, whatever our definition of romance may be. R. L. Stevenson\u2019s\nremark that \u201cromance is consciousness of background,\u201d Hegel\u2019s doctrine\nthat \u201cromantic art is the straining of art to go beyond itself,\u201d[843] and\na more recent _dictum_ that \u201cromance is only the passion which is in the\nface of all realism,\u201d[844] each of them definitely recalls some feature\nof Euripides\u2019 work already discussed. A modern writer with whom he can\nbe fruitfully compared, at this point especially, is Mr Bernard Shaw.\nIn many characteristics these two dramatists are notably alike: their\nruthless insistence upon questioning all established reputations, whether\nof individuals, nations, or institutions; their conviction that there is\nno absolute standard of conduct; their blazing zeal for justice; their\nmastery of brilliant lithe idiom. But in their feeling about romance\nthey diverge violently. Perhaps the largest ingredient in Mr. Shaw\u2019s\nstrength is his hatred and distrust of emotion and of that spirit, called\nromance, which organizes emotion and sees in it a basic part of life.\nBut Euripides appreciates it all the more highly that he is not enslaved\nby it. Even in such ruthless dramas as the _Medea_ and the _Iphigenia in\nTauris_ one remarks how the thrill and beauty of life gleams out, if only\nas a bitter memory or a present pain of contrast\u2014the magic fire-breathing\nbulls and the heapy coils of the glaring dragon in the remote land where\nJason won his quest, the strange seas, deserted beaches, and grim savages\namong whom Iphigenia cherishes her thoughts of childhood in Argos. The\nsame sense of glamour which inspires early in his life such a marvellous\nflash as the description of Rhesus\u2019 steeds:\n\n    \u03c3\u03c4\u03af\u03bb\u03b2\u03bf\u03c5\u03c3\u03b9 \u03b4\u2019 \u1f65\u03c3\u03c4\u03b5 \u03c0\u03bf\u03c4\u03b1\u03bc\u03af\u03bf\u03c5 \u03ba\u03cd\u03ba\u03bd\u03bf\u03c5 \u03c0\u03c4\u03b5\u03c1\u03cc\u03bd,[845]\n\nand indeed the whole dashing buoyant drama\u2014this passion survives the\nshames and disillusionment wrought by twenty-five years of tyranny and\nwar; it persists even in those black but glorious hours when he wrote the\n_Troades_ and at the close of his life culminates in the splendours of\nthe _Bacch\u00e6_. No attentive student of his work can ignore this effect,\nbut if we possessed all his plays we should be in no danger of accepting\nthe idea that Euripides is beyond all other things a bitter realist. The\n_Andromeda_ and the _Phaethon_ would have redressed the balance.\n\nThe wit of Euripides cannot easily be discussed; it often depends upon\nidiomatic subtlety, and must almost disappear in translation. But\nfrequently, again, it consists in the method of handling a situation.\nJust as the playwright often makes of his drama, among other things, an\nelaborate _reductio ad absurdum_ of myth, so is he capable of writing\na whole scene with a twinkle in his eye. The clearest example is the\n_Helena_; Menelaus\u2019 stupefaction at learning that Egypt contains an\nHelen, daughter of Zeus, is indeed definite comedy:\n\n    \u0394\u03b9\u1f78\u03c2 \u03b4\u2019 \u1f14\u03bb\u03b5\u03be\u03b5 \u03c0\u03b1\u1fd6\u03b4\u03ac \u03bd\u03b9\u03bd \u03c0\u03b5\u03c6\u03c5\u03ba\u03ad\u03bd\u03b1\u03b9.\n    \u1f00\u03bb\u03bb\u2019 \u1f26 \u03c4\u03b9\u03c2 \u1f14\u03c3\u03c4\u03b9 \u0396\u03b7\u03bd\u1f78\u03c2 \u1f44\u03bd\u03bf\u03bc\u2019 \u1f14\u03c7\u03c9\u03bd \u1f00\u03bd\u03ae\u03c1\n    \u039d\u03b5\u03af\u03bb\u03bf\u03c5 \u03c0\u03b1\u03c1\u2019 \u1f44\u03c7\u03b8\u03b1\u03c2; \u03b5\u1f37\u03c2 \u03b3\u1f70\u03c1 \u1f45 \u03b3\u03b5 \u03ba\u03b1\u03c4\u2019 \u03bf\u1f50\u03c1\u03b1\u03bd\u03cc\u03bd.[846]\n\n\u201cAnd she told me that the lady was a daughter of Zeus! What! is there\nsome person called Zeus living beside the Nile? There\u2019s one in Heaven,\nto be sure, but that\u2019s another story.\u201d Such a translation gives\nperhaps the intention of the words and colloquial rhythm of the last\nsentence. Here is comedy, but that of Congreve, not of Aristophanes.\nThe distinction is important. Euripides is less comic than witty. As\nwe turn his pages we rarely laugh, but a thousand times we break into\nthe slight smile of intellectual enjoyment; one delight in reading an\nEuripidean play\u2014tragedy though it be\u2014is the same as that aroused by the\nwork of Meredith. Euripides\u2019 sense of the ludicrous is a part of his\nrestlessness in conception. Again and again he startles us by placing\nat some tragic moment a little episode which passes the pathetic and\nbecomes absurd. When Clyt\u00e6mnestra and Achilles bring each other into\nawkward perplexity over the espousal of Iphigenia the effect is amusing,\nand the intervention of the old slave who puts his head out of the\ntent-door must provoke a smile, even though we realize that he has misery\nand death on his lips.[847] After Creusa has given her instructions for\nthe assassination of Ion, it is, though natural, yet quaint for the\nprospective murderer to reply: \u201cNow do you retire to your hotel\u201d.[848] In\nthe _Medea_ the whole episode of \u00c6geus, to which Aristotle objected as\n\u201cirrational,\u201d is tinged with the grotesque. That the horrible story of\nMedea\u2019s revenge must hang upon a slow-witted amiable person like \u00c6geus\nis natural to the topsy-turviness of life as the dramatist saw it. In\nfact, just as Euripides on the linguistic side practically invents the\nprose-drama, so in the strictly dramatic sphere he invents tragicomedy.\nNothing can induce him to keep tears and laughter altogether apart. The\nworld is not made like that, and he studies facts, depicting the phases\nof great happenings not as they \u201cought to be\u201d but \u201cas they are\u201d. He would\nhave read with amused delight that quaint sentence of Dostoevsky: \u201cAll\nthese choruses sing about something very indefinite, for the most part\nabout somebody\u2019s curse, but with a tinge of the higher humour\u201d.[849]\nIt is indeed significant that sparkles of incidental mirth are (so far\nas a modern student can tell) commonest in that most heartbreaking\nplay _Orestes_. One dialogue between Orestes and Menelaus, to take a\nsingle passage, is a blaze of wit\u2014it exemplifies every possible grade\nof witticism, from the downright pun[850] to subtle varieties of iambic\nrhythm. Perhaps the most light-hearted and entertaining example[851] is\nprovided by Helen who (of all casuists!) evolves a theory of sin as a\nmethod of putting her tigerish niece into good humour and so inducing her\nto perform for Helen an awkward task. Even more skilful, but ghastly in\nits half-farcical horror, is the dialogue between Orestes and the escaped\nPhrygian slave.\n\nLater ages of Greek civilization looked upon Euripides as a mighty leader\nof thought, a great voice expressing all the wisdom of their fathers, all\nthe pains and perplexities familiar to themselves. After generations had\npassed it was easy to dwell upon one side only of his genius, and for\nPlutarch or Stob\u00e6us to regard him as the poet of sad wisdom:\u2014\n\n            Amongst us one,\n    Who most has suffer\u2019d, takes dejectedly\n    His seat upon the intellectual throne;\n    And all his store of sad experience he\n      Lays bare of wretched days![852]\n\nBut his own contemporaries, living in the days before \u00c6gospotami and\nknowing the many facets of his spirit, could not so well accept a man of\nsuch contradictions, who was in strange earnest about things they felt to\nbe indifferent, and who smiled at such odd moments. Euripides must often\nhave felt himself very lonely in Athens. \u201cMy soul,\u201d he cries, \u201clay not\nhold upon words of subtlety. Why admit these strange high thoughts, if\nthou hast no peers for audience to thy serious musings?\u201d[853] And again;\u2014\n\n    Though far beyond my ken a wise man dwell,\n    Across the earth I greet him for a friend.[854]\n\nIt may be that Europeans of our own day are better fitted to estimate him\naright than enthusiasts under the Empire or his companions who saw him\ntoo close at hand. During the last half-century we have witnessed great\nchanges which have their counterpart in the Athens for which he wrote.\nHopes have been realized only to prove disappointments and the source\nof fresh perplexities. In England the spread of knowledge has resulted\nnot in a cultivated, but in a mentally restless people. Universal\nability to read has for its most obvious fruit not wider knowledge of\nliterature, but more newspapers and a rank jungle of \u201cpopular\u201d writing.\nSimilarly at Athens the sophists had produced mental avidity where\nthere was no quickening of spiritual vigour to correspond. Another fact\nof vital import has been the rise of our working-class to solidarity\nand political power: it probably resembles that \u201cdemos\u201d which Cleon led\nmore closely than \u201cthe masses\u201d with which Peel or Russell had to deal.\nAgain, experience of war has shown how small is the effect which settled\ngovernment, social reform, and education have exercised upon the raw,\nprimitive, human instincts, both base and noble. In Greece, the empire\nof Athens, with its tyranny and selfishness, and the Peloponnesian war\nwhich had produced a frightful corruption of conduct and ideals,[855]\ntainted society with that cynicism (\u1f00\u03bd\u03b1\u03af\u03b4\u03b5\u03b9\u03b1) of which Euripides so often\nspeaks. Just as we are severed by a wide gulf from the crude but not\nignoble certainty, the superficial worship of progress which marked the\nVictorian era, so was Euripides severed from the \u201cmen of Marathon\u201d for\nwhom \u00c6schylus wrote.\n\nSo it is that we can judge the poet of \u201cthe Greek enlightenment\u201d[856]\u2014or\nrather of the Athenian disillusionment\u2014better than most generations of\nhis readers. To aid us, there have naturally arisen writers to voice, in\na manner often like his, our own disappointment and our renewed interest\nin parts of life and the world which we had ignored as unmeaning or\nbarren. The disinherited are coming into their own. Mr. Thomas Hardy has\nwritten of the English peasant with a richness and profundity unknown\nsince Shakespeare. He offers indeed another interesting analogy with\nEuripides: while the critics are concerned with his \u201cpessimism\u201d he\nremains for an unsophisticated reader a splendid witness to the majesty\nand charm of the immense slow curves of life, the deep preciousness which\nglows from the gradual processes of nature and that dignity of mere\nexistence which survives all sin and effort. _Tess of the D\u2019Urbervilles_\nis the best modern parallel to _Hippolytus_. Meanwhile M. Anatole France\nhas given us many an example of that ironical wit of which the Greek\npoet is so consummate a master. Another Frenchman, Flaubert, has set\nas the climax to his dazzling phantasy, _La Tentation de St. Antoine_,\nan expression in un-attic vehemence and elaboration of that passionate\nsympathy with all existence which blazes in the lyrics of the _Bacch\u00e6_\u2014a\nyearning which Arnold in the _Scholar-Gipsy_ has uttered in milder and\nstill more haunting language.\n\nThere is no final synthesis of Euripides. Throughout his life he held\ntrue to those two principles, the worship of beauty, and loyalty to the\ndry light of intelligence. Glamour never blinded him to sin and folly;\nmisery and coarse tyranny never taught his lips to forswear the glory of\nexistence. One of his own noblest songs sets this triumphantly before\nus[857]:\u2014\n\n    \u03bf\u1f50 \u03c0\u03b1\u03cd\u03c3\u03bf\u03bc\u03b1\u03b9 \u03c4\u1f70\u03c2 \u03a7\u03ac\u03c1\u03b9\u03c4\u03b1\u03c2\n      \u039c\u03bf\u03cd\u03c3\u03b1\u03b9\u03c2 \u03c3\u03c5\u03b3\u03ba\u03b1\u03c4\u03b1\u03bc\u03b5\u03b9\u03b3\u03bd\u03cd\u03c2,\n    \u1f01\u03b4\u03af\u03c3\u03c4\u03b1\u03bd \u03c3\u03c5\u03b6\u03c5\u03b3\u03af\u03b1\u03bd.\n    \u03bc\u1f74 \u03b6\u1ff4\u03b7\u03bd \u03bc\u03b5\u03c4\u2019 \u1f00\u03bc\u03bf\u03c5\u03c3\u03af\u03b1\u03c2,\n    \u03b1\u1f30\u03b5\u1f76 \u03b4\u2019 \u1f10\u03bd \u03c3\u03c4\u03b5\u03c6\u03ac\u03bd\u03bf\u03b9\u03c3\u03b9\u03bd \u03b5\u1f34\u03b7\u03bd.\n\n\u201cI will not cease to mingle the Graces with the Muses\u2014the sweetest\nof fellowships. When the Muses desert me, let me die; may the\nflower-garlands never fail me.\u201d The Graces and the Muses\u2014such is his\nbetter way of invoking Beauty and Truth, the two fixed stars of his\nlife-long allegiance.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER VI\n\nMETRE AND RHYTHM IN GREEK TRAGEDY\n\n\n\u00a7 I. INTRODUCTION\n\nPoetry is illuminating utterance consisting of words the successive\nsounds of which are arranged according to a recurrent pattern. The soul\nof poetry is this illumination, its body this recurrent pattern of\nsounds; and it is with the body that we are now to deal. At the outset\nwe must distinguish carefully between rhythm and metre. Rhythm is the\nrecurrence just mentioned\u2014the structure; metre is the gathering together\nof sounds into masses upon which rhythm shall do its work. Metre, so to\nput it, makes the bricks, while rhythm makes the arch.\n\nGreek metre is based, not upon stress-accent,[858] but upon quantity\u2014the\nlength of time needed for the pronunciation of a syllable. In English the\nline\n\n    My bosom\u2019s lord sits lightly in his throne\n\nis \u201cscanned\u201d (that is to say, marked off into \u201cfeet\u201d\u2014the metrical units)\nas a series of five iambi; the iambus being a foot which consists of an\nunaccented, followed by an accented, syllable. The word \u201cbosoms\u201d can\nstand where it does because the stress of the voice naturally falls upon\nthe first syllable of \u201cbosom\u201d; to begin a line with \u201cmy ser\u00e9ne bosom\u201d\nwould clearly be wrong. The _length_ of the syllables has no effect on\nthe scansion. That \u201csits\u201d needs as long a time for its utterance as the\nfirst syllable of \u201clightly\u201d does not alter the fact that \u201csits light-\u201d is\nan accentual iambus.\n\nGreek words, on the other hand, as metrical material, are considered only\nfrom the quantitative point of view, not the accentual. The voice-stress\nin the word \u03bb\u03cc\u03b3\u03bf\u03c5\u03c2 rests upon the first syllable, but the word is an\niambus, a \u201cshort\u201d followed by a \u201clong\u201d (marked respectively thus \u23d1\u2013).\nWhereas an English blank verse consists of five accentual iambi, _e.g._\n\n    To \u00e9nt|erta\u00edn | div\u00edne | Zen\u00f3cr|at\u00e9,\n\nthe corresponding verse of all the Greek dramatists is composed of six\nfeet each of which is theoretically a quantitative iambus, and most of\nwhich actually are such. Thus _Andromache_, v. 241 is to be scanned\n\n    \u23d1     \u2013   \u23d1   \u2013  \u23d1    \u2013 \u23d1    \u2013 \u23d1   \u2013  \u23d1 \u2013\n    \u03c4\u03b9 \u03b4 \u03bf\u03c5 | \u03b3\u03c5\u03bd\u03b1\u03b9\u03be|\u03b9 \u03c4\u03b1\u03c5\u03c4|\u03b1 \u03c0\u03c1\u03c9\u03c4|\u03b1 \u03c0\u03b1\u03bd\u03c4|\u03b1\u03c7\u03bf\u03c5.\n\nWhen is a syllable long and when short? A few rules will settle all but a\nminority. _All_ syllables are long\u2014\n\n(i) Which contain a necessarily long vowel (\u03b7 or \u03c9), _e.g._ \u03bc\u03b7\u0304\u03bd, \u03c4\u03c9\u0304\u03bd.\n\n(ii) Which contain a diphthong or _iota_ subscript, _e.g._ \u03bf\u0305\u03b9\u0305\u03bd\u03bf\u03c2,\n\u03b1\u0305\u03b9\u0305\u03bd\u03bf\u0305\u03c5\u0305\u03bc\u03b5\u03bd, \u03c1\u1fb3\u0305\u03b4\u03b9\u03c9\u03c2; save that the first syllable of \u03c0\u03bf\u03b9\u1ff6 and \u03c4\u03bf\u03b9\u03bf\u1fe6\u03c4\u03bf\u03c2\n(and their parts) is often short.\n\n(iii) Which end with a double consonant (\u03b6, \u03be, \u03c8), _e.g._ \u03bf\u0304\u03b6\u03bf\u03c2, \u03b5\u0304\u03be\u03c9,\n\u03b5\u0304\u03c8\u03b1\u03c5\u03c3\u03b1.\n\n(iv) Which have the circumflex accent, _e.g._ \u03c5\u03bc\u1fd6\u0305\u03bd, \u03bc\u1fe6\u0305\u03c2.\n\n_Most_ syllables are long the vowel of which is followed by two\nconsonants. But there is some difficulty about this very frequent case.\nIt can arise in three ways:\u2014\n\n(_a_) Both consonants may be in the same word as the vowel. Then the\nsyllable is long, save when the consonants are (i) a voiced stop (\u03b2, \u03b3,\n\u03b4) followed by \u03c1; or (ii) a voiceless stop or spirant (\u03ba, \u03c0, \u03c4; \u03b8, \u03c6,\n\u03c7) followed by a liquid or nasal (\u03bb, \u03c1, \u03bc, \u03bd)\u2014in both of which cases\nthe syllable can be counted long or short at pleasure. Thus \u03b5\u0304\u03c3\u03bc\u03b5\u03bd,\n\u03bc\u03bf\u0304\u03c1\u03c6\u03b7, \u1fb1\u03bd\u03b4\u03c1\u03bf\u03c2; but the first syllables of \u03b9\u03b4\u03c1\u03b9\u03c2, \u03c4\u03b5\u03ba\u03bd\u03bf\u03bd, \u03c0\u03bf\u03c4\u03bc\u03bf\u03c2 are\n\u201cdoubtful\u201d\u2014they can be either long or short as suits the poet.\n\n(_b_) One of the consonants may end its word and the other begin the\nnext. Such syllables are _all_ long. Thus, \u03c4\u03b7\u03ba\u03c4\u03bf\u0304\u03c2 \u03bc\u03bf\u03bb\u03c5\u03b2\u03b4\u03bf\u03c2, \u03b1\u03bd\u03b4\u03c1\u03b5\u0304\u03c2\n\u03c3\u03bf\u03c6\u03bf\u03b9, although both these long syllables are \u201cshort by nature\u201d (see\nbelow).\n\n(_c_) Both consonants may occur at the beginning of the second word. If\nthe vowel is naturally short, the syllable is almost always short, though\nsuch scansions as \u03c3\u03b5\u0304 \u03ba\u03c4\u03b5\u03bd\u03c9 are occasionally found. But if the second\nword begins with a double consonant or \u03c3 followed by another consonant,\nthe syllable is always long. Thus \u03bf\u0304 \u03be\u03b5\u03bd\u03bf\u03c2, \u03c4\u1fd1 \u03b6\u03b7\u03c4\u03b5\u03b9\u03c2, \u03c4\u03b1\u03c5\u03c4\u1fb1 \u03c3\u03ba\u03bf\u03c0\u03bf\u03c5\u03bc\u03b5\u03bd.\n\nA vowel, naturally short, when thus lengthened is said to be \u201clengthened\nby position.\u201d\n\nThe following types of syllable are _always_ short:\u2014\n\n(i) Those containing a naturally short vowel (\u03b5 or \u03bf) not lengthened by\nposition, _e.g._ \u03b5\u0306\u03ba\u03c9\u03bd, \u03bf\u0306\u03bb\u03bf\u03c2.\n\n(ii) Final \u03b1 of the third declension neuter singular (\u03c3\u03c9\u03bc\u1fb0), third\ndeclension accusative singular (\u03b5\u03bb\u03c0\u03b9\u03b4\u1fb0, \u03b4\u03c1\u03b1\u03c3\u03b1\u03bd\u03c4\u1fb0), and all neuters\nplural (\u03c4\u1fb0, \u03c3\u03c9\u03bc\u03b1\u03c4\u1fb0, \u03c4\u03bf\u03b9\u03b1\u03c5\u03c4\u1fb0).\n\n(iii) Final \u03b9 (_e.g._ \u03b5\u03c3\u03c4\u1fd0, \u03c4\u1fd0), save, of course, when it is part of a\ndiphthong.\n\n(iv) The accusative -\u03b1\u03c2 of the third declension (\u03b1\u03bd\u03b4\u03c1\u1fb0\u03c2, \u03c0\u03bf\u03bd\u03bf\u03c5\u03bd\u03c4\u1fb0\u03c2).\nBut \u03bc\u03bf\u03c5\u03c3\u1fb1\u03c2 (first declension). The quantity in both cases is that of the\ncorresponding nominative.\n\nHiatus is practically unknown. That is, a word ending in a vowel is not\nto be followed by a word beginning with a vowel, unless one vowel or\nthe other disappears. Almost always it is the first vowel which is thus\ncut off, the process being called \u201celision.\u201d In verse one would not\nwrite \u03c0\u03ac\u03bd\u03c4\u03b1 \u03b5\u1f36\u03c0\u03b5, but \u03c0\u03ac\u03bd\u03c4\u2019 \u03b5\u1f36\u03c0\u03b5; not \u1f14\u03c4\u03b9 \u03b5\u1f36\u03bd\u03b1\u03b9, but \u1f14\u03c4\u2019 \u03b5\u1f36\u03bd\u03b1\u03b9. When\nthe first vowel is long and the second short, the latter is cut off by\n\u201cprodelision,\u201d a much rarer occurrence. Thus \u03c4\u03bf\u03cd\u03c4\u1ff3 \u1f00\u03bd\u03b5\u1fd6\u03c0\u03b5 would become\n\u03c4\u03bf\u03cd\u03c4\u1ff3 \u2019\u03bd\u03b5\u1fd6\u03c0\u03b5. Two long vowels, as in \u03ba\u03b1\u03bb\u1f74 \u1f21\u03bc\u03ad\u03c1\u03b1, are not used together at\nall. But the rule as to hiatus does not normally apply at the end of a\nverse; usually one can end a verse with an unelided vowel and begin the\nnext with a vowel. If in any metrical scheme this liberty is not allowed,\nit is said that \u201csynapheia[859] prevails.\u201d\n\nWe are now in a position to discuss the various metres to be found in\nGreek Tragedy.\n\n\n\u00a7 II. THE IAMBIC METRE\n\nPractically all the dialogue and speeches are written in this metre. The\nstudent would do well to grow thoroughly accustomed to reading these\naloud with correct quantities before he attempts the others.\n\nThe iambic line consists of six feet, any one of which may be an iambus.\nBut a \u201cpure\u201d iambic line, one in which every foot is an iambus, as in\n_Andromache_, v. 241 (see above), is very rare. A speech written solely\nin such feet would be highly monotonous and far too rapid. Other feet are\ntherefore allowed, under restrictions, to take the place of the iambus.\n\nBy far the commonest of these is the spondee, which consists of two long\nsyllables (\u03bb\u03bf\u0304\u03b3\u03c7\u03b7\u0304, \u03c0\u1fb1\u03bd\u03c4\u03c9\u0304\u03bd). This can occur in the first, third, or\nfifth places\u2014one, two, or all three. Thus:\u2014\n\n      \u2013 \u2013      \u23d1\u2013    \u23d1  \u2013  \u23d1   \u2013      \u2013  \u2013    \u23d1 \u2013\n    _\u03b4\u03b7\u03c3\u03b1\u03b9_ | \u03b2\u03b9\u1fb3 | \u03c6\u03b1\u03c1\u03b1\u03b3\u03b3|\u03b9 \u03c0\u03c1\u03bf\u03c2 | _\u03b4\u03c5\u03c3\u03c7\u03b5\u03b9\u03bc_|\u03b5\u03c1\u1ff3 (_Prom. Vinctus_, 15).\n\n      \u2013  \u2013   \u23d1  \u2013    \u2013   \u2013      \u23d1 \u2013    \u23d1 \u2013     \u23d1 \u2013\n    _\u03c9 \u03c4\u03b5\u03ba\u03bd_|\u03b1 \u039a\u03b1\u03b4\u03bc|_\u03bf\u03c5 \u03c4\u03bf\u03c5_ | \u03c0\u03b1\u03bb\u03b1\u03b9 | v\u03b5\u03b1 | \u03c4\u03c1\u03bf\u03c6\u03b7 (_\u0152d. Tyr._, I).\n\nNext, the lightness and variety is often greatly increased by the use of\n\u201cresolved\u201d[860] (or broken-up) feet. Each long syllable being regarded as\nequal to two \u201cshorts,\u201d it follows that the iambus can be \u201cresolved\u201d into\n\u23d1\u23d1\u23d1, the spondee into \u2013\u23d1\u23d1, \u23d1\u23d1\u2013 (and \u23d1\u23d1\u23d1\u23d1, but this last is not employed\nin iambics).\n\nOf these three the tribrach (\u23d1\u23d1\u23d1) is much the most frequent. As it\ncorresponds to the iambus, it can occur in any place, save the sixth; it\nis exceedingly rare in the fifth place:\u2014\n\n     \u2013   \u2013   \u23d1  \u23d1 \u23d1   \u2013   \u2013   \u23d1   \u2013  \u2013  \u2013     \u23d1  \u2013\n    \u03c6\u03b1\u03b9\u03b4\u03c1\u03c9\u03c0|_\u03bf\u03bd \u03b5\u03b4\u03b9\u03b4_|\u03bf\u03c5 \u03c4\u03bf\u03b9\u03c3|\u03b9\u03bd \u0391\u03b9\u03b3|\u03b9\u03c3\u03b8\u03bf\u03c5 | \u03c6\u03b9\u03bb\u03bf\u03b9\u03c2 (_Orestes_, 894).\n\n     \u23d1 \u2013    \u23d1 \u2013    \u23d1 \u2013   \u23d1  \u23d1  \u23d1  \u2013 \u2013     \u23d1 \u2013\n    \u03c0\u03b5\u03c1\u03b9\u03be | \u03b5\u03b3\u03c9 | \u03ba\u03b1\u03bb\u03c5\u03c8|_\u03b1 \u03b2\u03bf\u03c4\u03c1\u03c5_|\u03c9\u03b4\u03b5\u03b9 | \u03c7\u03bb\u03bf\u1fc3 (_Bacch\u00e6_, 12).\n\nThe dactyl (\u2013\u23d1\u23d1) is allowed in those places to which the spondee is\nadmitted, save the fifth (just as the tribrach is excluded from the\nsixth). Thus:\u2014\n\n    \u2013   \u2013  \u23d1   \u2013   \u2013   \u23d1 \u23d1  \u23d1   \u2013  \u2013  \u2013    \u23d1 \u2013\n    \u03bf\u03c5 \u03c6\u03b1\u03c3|\u03b9 \u03c0\u03c1\u03c9\u03c4|_\u03bf\u03bd \u0394\u03b1\u03bd\u03b1_|\u03bf\u03bd \u0391\u03b9\u03b3|\u03c5\u03c0\u03c4\u1ff3 | \u03b4\u03b9\u03ba\u03b1\u03c2 (_Orestes_, 872).\n\n     \u23d1 \u2013     \u23d1 \u2013    \u2013  \u23d1 \u23d1     \u23d1 \u2013   \u2013 \u2013    \u23d1 \u2013\n    \u03bb\u03bf\u03b3\u03bf\u03c5\u03c2 | \u03b5\u03bb\u03b9\u03c3\u03c3|_\u03c9\u03bd \u03bf\u03c4\u03b9_ | \u03ba\u03b1\u03b8\u03b9\u03c3\u03c4|\u03b1\u03b9\u03b7 | \u03bd\u03bf\u03bc\u03bf\u03c5\u03c2 (_Ibid._, 892).\n\nIt is rare in the first foot.\n\nLeast common of all is the anap\u00e6st (\u23d1\u23d1\u2013), which appears only in the first\nfoot, unless it is contained entirely in a proper name, when it can occur\nin any place save the sixth. This license is due to necessity: such a\nname as \u1f08\u03bd\u03c4\u1fd0\u03b3\u03cc\u03bd\u03b7 could not otherwise be introduced into iambics at all.\nExamples:\u2014\n\n       \u23d1 \u23d1 \u2013        \u23d1\u2013     \u23d1  \u2013  \u23d1 \u2013    \u2013  \u2013   \u23d1 \u2013\n    _\u03c3\u03c4\u03b5\u03c6\u03b1\u03bd\u03bf\u03c5\u03c2_ | \u03b4\u03c1\u03c5\u03bf\u03c2 | \u03c4\u03b5 \u03bc\u03b9\u03bb|\u03b1\u03ba\u03bf\u03c2 \u03c4|\u03b1\u03bd\u03b8\u03b5\u03c3\u03c6|\u03bf\u03c1\u03bf\u03c5 (_Bacch\u00e6_, 703).\n\n     \u2013  \u2013   \u23d1  \u2013     \u23d1  \u2013   \u23d1  \u2013    \u23d1\u23d1 \u2013      \u23d1 \u2013\n    \u03b4\u03b5\u03c3\u03c0\u03bf\u03b9\u03bd|\u03b1 \u03b3\u03b1\u03c1 | \u03ba\u03b1\u03c4 \u03bf\u03b9\u03ba|\u03bf\u03bd \u0395\u03c1\u03bc|_\u03b9\u03bf\u03bd\u03b7\u03bd_ | \u03bb\u03b5\u03b3\u03c9 (_Androm._, 804).\n\nOccasionally a line is to be found with two or even three resolved feet:\u2014\n\n     \u2013   \u2013   \u23d1  \u23d1 \u23d1  \u2013   \u23d1 \u23d1  \u23d1 \u2013     \u23d1 \u2013   \u23d1  \u2013\n    \u03bb\u03bf\u03c5\u03c4\u03c1\u03bf\u03b9\u03c3|\u03b9\u03bd \u03b1\u03bb\u03bf\u03c7|\u03bf\u03c5 \u03c0\u03b5\u03c1\u03b9|\u03c0\u03b5\u03c3\u03c9\u03bd | \u03c0\u03b1\u03bd\u03c5\u03c3\u03c4|\u03b1\u03c4\u03bf\u03b9\u03c2 (_Orestes_, 367).\n\n     \u2013 \u23d1 \u23d1    \u23d1  \u2013   \u2013    \u23d1 \u23d1  \u23d1  \u2013   \u23d1  \u2013   \u23d1 \u2013\n    \u03bc\u03b7\u03c4\u03b5\u03c1\u03b1 | \u03c4\u03bf \u03c3\u03c9\u03c6\u03c1|\u03bf\u03bd \u03c4 \u03b5\u03bb\u03b1\u03b2|\u03b5\u03bd \u03b1\u03bd\u03c4|\u03b9 \u03c3\u03c5\u03bc\u03c6|\u03bf\u03c1\u03b1\u03c2 (_Ibid._, 502).\n\n    \u23d1 \u23d1 \u2013   \u23d1  \u23d1 \u23d1  \u2013  \u23d1 \u23d1  \u23d1  \u2013     \u23d1  \u2013     \u23d1 \u2013\n    \u03b1\u03bd\u03b1\u03b4\u03b5\u03bb\u03c6|\u03bf\u03c2 \u03b1\u03c0\u03b1\u03c4|\u03c9\u03c1 \u03b1\u03c6\u03b9\u03bb|\u03bf\u03c2 \u03b5\u03b9 | \u03b4\u03b5 \u03c3\u03bf\u03b9 | \u03b4\u03bf\u03ba\u03b5\u03b9 (_Ibid._, 310).\n\nTwo licenses should be noted. The last syllable of the line may be short;\nno doubt the pause[861] at the end was felt to help it out. Lines of\nthis kind are innumerable, _e.g._:\u2014\n\n                                     \u23d1\u23d1\n    \u039a\u03c1\u03b1\u03c4\u03bf\u03c2 \u0392\u03b9\u03b1 \u03c4\u03b5 \u03c3\u03c6\u1ff3\u03bd \u03bc\u03b5\u03bd \u03b5\u03bd\u03c4\u03bf\u03bb\u03b7 | \u0394\u03b9\u03bf\u03c2 (_Prom. Vinctus_, 12)\n\n(which is followed by a vowel\u2014\u1f14\u03c7\u03b5\u03b9). It matters little whether such\nsyllables are marked as short, as long, or with the sign of doubtful\nquantity ( \u1dcb). Next, synizesis (\u03c3\u03c5\u03bd\u03af\u03b6\u03b7\u03c3\u03b9\u03c2, \u201ccollapse\u201d) occurs now and\nthen\u2014two syllables coalesce and are scanned as one, _e.g._ \u03bc\u0305\u03b7\u0305 \u0305\u03bf\u0305\u03c5\u0305,\n\u03c0\u03bf\u03bb\u03b5\u0305\u03c9\u0305\u03c2:\u2014\n\n    \u2013    \u2013      \u23d1  \u2013     \u2013  \u2013    \u23d1 \u2013     \u2013  \u2013   \u23d1 \u2013\n    \u03b1\u03bb\u03bb _\u03b5\u03b1_ | \u03bc\u03b5 \u03ba\u03b1\u03b9 | \u03c4\u03b7\u03bd \u03b5\u03be | \u03b5\u03bc\u03bf\u03c5 | \u03b4\u03c5\u03c3\u03b2\u03bf\u03c5\u03bb|\u03b9\u03b1\u03bd (_Antigone_, 95).\n\n    \u2013           \u23d1  \u2013  \u2013    \u23d1 \u23d1  \u23d1  \u2013    \u23d1 \u2013    \u23d1 \u2013\n    \u03c9\u03c2 _\u03bc\u0305\u03b7\u0305 \u0305\u03b5\u0305\u03b9\u0305\u03b4\u0305_|\u03bf\u03b8 \u03b7\u03c4|\u03b9\u03c2 \u03bc \u03b5\u03c4\u03b5\u03ba|\u03b5\u03bd \u03b5\u03be | \u03bf\u03c4\u03bf\u03c5 \u03c4|\u03b5\u03c6\u03c5\u03bd (_Ion_, 313).\n\n      \u2013  \u2013   \u23d1 \u2013      \u2013     \u2013  \u23d1  \u2013    \u23d1 \u2013   \u23d1   \u23d1\n    \u03c3\u03c6\u03b1\u03b6 \u03b1\u03b9\u03bc|\u03b1\u03c4\u03bf\u03c5 | \u03b8_\u03b5\u03b1_\u03c2 \u03b2\u03c9\u03bc|\u03bf\u03bd \u03b7 | \u03bc\u03b5\u03c4\u03b5\u03b9\u03c3|\u03b9  \u03c3\u03b5 (_Andromache_, 260).\n\n(Synizesis is specially common in the various cases of \u03b8\u03b5\u03cc\u03c2 and \u03b8\u03b5\u03ac.)\n\nFinally, two important rules of rhythm remain to be stated.\n\nFirst, there must be a \u201cc\u00e6sura\u201d[862] in either the third or the fourth\nfoot. A c\u00e6sura is a gap between words in the middle of a foot. Either the\nthird foot, then, or the fourth must consist partly of one word, partly\nof another. It is indicated in scansion by the sign \u2016. Many verses have\nthis necessary c\u00e6sura in the third foot only, _e.g._:\u2014\n\n    \u23d1 \u2013     \u23d1  \u2013   \u2013     \u2013  \u23d1 \u2013   \u2013 \u2013      \u23d1 \u23d1\n    \u03b1\u03c0\u03b1\u03bd\u03b8 | \u03bf \u03bc\u03b1\u03ba\u03c1|\u03bf\u03c2 \u2016 \u03ba\u03b1\u03bd|\u03b1\u03c1\u03b9\u03b8\u03bc|\u03b7\u03c4\u03bf\u03c2 | \u03c7\u03c1\u03bf\u03bd\u03bf\u03c2 (_Ajax_, 646).\n\nMany show it in the fourth only:\u2014\n\n      \u2013   \u2013   \u23d1  \u2013     \u23d1 \u2013   \u23d1    \u2013    \u2013  \u2013    \u23d1  \u23d1\n    \u03c0\u03c1\u03bf\u03c2 \u03c4\u03b7\u03c3\u03b4|\u03b5 \u03c4\u03b7\u03c2 | \u03b3\u03c5\u03bd\u03b1\u03b9\u03ba|\u03bf\u03c2 \u2016 \u03bf\u03b9\u03ba\u03c4|\u03b5\u03b9\u03c1\u03c9 | \u03b4\u03b5 \u03bd\u03b9\u03bd (_Ibid._, 652).\n\nA still larger number have c\u00e6sura in both places:\u2014\n\n      \u2013  \u2013    \u23d1 \u2013  \u2013     \u2013  \u23d1    \u2013     \u2013  \u2013  \u23d1 \u23d1\n    \u03c6\u03c1\u03bf\u03c5\u03c1\u03b1\u03c2 | \u03b5\u03c4\u03b5\u03b9|\u03b1\u03c2 \u2016 \u03bc\u03b7\u03ba|\u03bf\u03c2 \u2016 \u03b7\u03bd | \u03ba\u03bf\u03b9\u03bc\u03c9\u03bc|\u03b5\u03bd\u03bf\u03c2 (_Agamemnon_, 2).\n\nThis usage is essential to rhythm. It is of course possible for every\nfoot in the line to exhibit a c\u00e6sura, but one in the midst is necessary\nto prevent the line from falling into pieces. That coextension of word\nand foot which is naturally frequent must at one point be emphatically\nexcluded, so that the whole line may be felt as a single rhythmical\nwhole. Such \u201clines\u201d as\n\n     \u2013  \u2013  \u23d1 \u2013   \u23d1 \u2013   \u23d1 \u2013   \u2013  \u2013  \u23d1 \u23d1\n    \u03c4\u03b1\u03c5\u03c4\u03b7\u03bd \u03b1\u03bd\u03b1\u03be \u03bb\u03b5\u03b3\u03b5\u03b9 \u03ba\u03b1\u03bb\u03b7\u03bd \u03b5\u03b9\u03bd\u03b1\u03b9 \u03c0\u03bf\u03bb\u03b9\u03bd,\n\nor\n\n    \u23d1 \u2013  \u23d1\u2013   \u2013  \u2013   \u23d1 \u2013  \u23d1 \u2013   \u23d1 \u23d1\n    \u039f\u03b4\u03c5\u03c3\u03c3\u03b5\u03c9\u03c2 \u03b4\u03bf\u03c5\u03bb\u03bf\u03b9 \u03bc\u03b1\u03c7\u03bf\u03c5\u03bc\u03b5\u03bd\u03bf\u03b9 \u03c4\u03b1\u03c7\u03b1,\n\nare utterly impossible.[863] The first falls into six scraps, and the\nsecond into two mere lumps, of equal length. If a breach of the rule ever\noccurs, it is for a special reason. When Sophocles (_\u0152d. Tyr._, 738)\nwrites\n\n    \u1f66 \u0396\u03b5\u1fe6, \u03c4\u03af \u03bc\u03bf\u03c5 \u03b4\u03c1\u1fb6\u03c3\u03b1\u03b9 \u03b2\u03b5\u03b2\u03bf\u03cd\u03bb\u03b5\u03c5\u03c3\u03b1\u03b9 \u03c0\u03ad\u03c1\u03b9;\n\nthe dragging rhythm well represents the dawning dread of \u0152dipus. But the\nmain c\u00e6sura may be dispensed with if the third foot ends with an elision,\napparently because, if the word could be written in full, the fourth foot\nwould be divided between two words. Thus:\u2014\n\n    \u03c7\u03b1\u1fd6\u03c1\u2019\u00b7 \u03bf\u1f50 \u03b3\u1f70\u03c1 \u1f10\u03c7\u03b8\u03b1\u03af\u03c1\u03c9 \u03c3\u2019\u00b7 \u1f00\u03c0\u03ce\u03bb\u03b5\u03c3\u03b1\u03c2 \u03b4\u2019 \u1f10\u03bc\u03ad (_Alcestis_, 179).\n\n    \u03b6\u03b7\u03c4\u03bf\u1fe6\u03c3\u03b9 \u03c4\u1f78\u03bd \u03c4\u03b5\u03ba\u03cc\u03bd\u03c4\u2019\u00b7 \u1f10\u03b3\u1f7c \u03b4\u1f72 \u03b4\u03b9\u03b1\u03c6\u03ad\u03c1\u03c9 (_Heracles_, 76).\n\nThe other rule is that generally called \u201cthe rule of the Final\nCretic\u201d.[864] It is most simply stated thus: if there is a c\u00e6sura in the\nfifth foot, that foot must be an iambus, _e.g._:\u2014\n\n                                \u23d1    \u2013   \u23d1 \u2013\n    \u03bc\u03b7 \u03bc\u03b5\u0304 \u03c3\u03c4\u03c5\u03b3\u03b7\u03c3\u1fc3\u03c2\u00b7 \u03bf\u03c5\u03c7 \u03b5\u03ba\u03c9\u03bd | \u03b3\u03b1\u03c1 \u2016 \u03b1\u03b3\u03b3|\u03b5\u03bb\u03c9 (_Troades_, 710).\n\n                               \u23d1    \u2013     \u23d1 \u2013\n    \u03c4\u03bf\u03bd \u03c4\u03bf\u03c5\u03b4\u03b5 \u03bd\u03b5\u03ba\u03c1\u03bf\u03bd \u03bf\u03c5\u03ba \u03b1\u03b8\u03b1\u03c0\u03c4|\u03bf\u03bd \u2016 \u03b1\u03bd | \u03bb\u03b9\u03c0\u03bf\u03b9\u03c2 (_Ibid._, 738).\n\nThis rule does not exclude from the first half of the foot long\n_monosyllables_ which are in meaning and syntax closely connected with\nthe \u201ccretic\u201d word or words. Thus \u03c4\u1ff6\u03bd \u03c3\u03c9\u03bc\u03ac\u03c4\u03c9\u03bd is a quite correct ending,\nbut not \u03c4\u03bf\u03cd\u03c4\u03c9\u03bd \u03c3\u03c9\u03bc\u03ac\u03c4\u03c9\u03bd.\n\nSubjoined is a scheme of the iambic verse as written by the tragedians.\nThe writers of comedy allowed themselves licenses with which we are not\nhere concerned. Euripides is much fonder of resolved feet than \u00c6schylus\nor Sophocles.\n\n1    2       3       4       5       6\n\u23d1\u2013   \u23d1\u2013      \u23d1\u2016\u2013     \u23d1\u2016\u2013     \u23d1\u2013      \u23d1\u2013\n\u23d1\u23d1\u23d1  \u23d1\u23d1\u23d1     \u23d1\u2016\u23d1\u23d1    \u23d1\u2016\u23d1\u23d1    \u23d1\u23d1\u23d1     \u23d1\u23d1\n\u2013\u202f\u2013   [\u23d1\u23d1\u2013]   \u2013\u2016\u2013     [\u23d1\u23d1\u2013]   \u2013\u202f\u2013\n\u2013\u23d1\u23d1          \u2013\u2016\u23d1\u23d1            [\u23d1\u23d1\u2013]\n\u23d1\u23d1\u2013          [\u23d1\u23d1\u2013]\n\n\n\u00a7 III. THE TROCHAIC TETRAMETER\n\nUnder this head we shall deal only with trochees as used in dialogue.\nOriginally all dialogue was written in this metre,[865] and they\nsometimes appear in extant plays when the situation is too hurried or\nexcited for iambics though not agitated enough for lyrical dialogue.\nThese passages are not usually long, and it is interesting to note that\nthe longest are found in the two most melodramatic plays, _Orestes_ and\n_Iphigenia at Aulis_.[866] The metre is always the trochaic tetrameter\ncatalectic[867] (sometimes called the trochaic octonarius), that is,\na line consisting of eight feet, mostly trochees, with \u201ccatalexis\u201d.\nCatalexis occurs when the last foot of a line has not its full number of\nsyllables, the remainder being filled by a pause in delivery.\n\nPure trochaic verses are occasionally to be found:\u2014\n\n     \u2013 \u23d1    \u2013  \u23d1  \u2013 \u23d1  \u2013  \u23d1    \u2013  \u23d1    \u2013   \u23d1  \u2013 \u23d1  \u2013\n    \u03ba\u03b1\u03c4\u03b1 | \u03c0\u03c9\u03c2 \u03b1\u03c6|\u03b9\u03ba\u03bf\u03bc|\u03b5\u03c3\u03b8\u03b1 | \u03b4\u03b5\u03c5\u03c1\u03bf | \u03c4\u03b1\u03c5\u03c4 \u03b1\u03bc|\u03b7\u03c7\u03b1\u03bd|\u03c9\ua788| (_Ion_, 548).\n      1      2     3    4      5        6      7   8\n\nThe mark \ua788 means that there is a pause equivalent in length to a short\nsyllable. It is often found in the scansion of lyrics, and there one also\nat times uses -\u032d \u23d7\u032d \u23d8\u032d, which mean pauses equivalent to two, three, and\nfour short syllables respectively. As in iambics, the last syllable may\nbe short by nature:\u2014\n\n    \u2013  \u23d1    \u2013  \u23d1  \u2013     \u23d1  \u2013  \u23d1    \u2013  \u23d1     \u2013  \u23d1 \u2013   \u23d1  \u23d1\u2013\n    \u03bf\u03c5\u03c7\u03b9 | \u03c3\u03c9\u03c6\u03c1\u03bf\u03bd|\u03b5\u03b9\u03bd \u03b3 \u03b5\u03c0|\u03b5\u03bc\u03c8\u03b5 | \u03b4\u03b5\u03c5\u03c1\u03bf \u03c3 | \u03b7 \u0394\u03b9|\u03bf\u03c2 \u03b4\u03b1\u03bc|\u03b1\u03c1\ua788 (_Heracles_,\n                                                              857).\n\nThis metre is plainly analogous to Tennyson\u2019s\n\n    Dreary gleams about the moorland flying over Locksley Hall.\n\nBut such purely trochaic lines are rare. Other feet are usually admitted,\nespecially the spondee:\u2014\n\n      \u2013 \u23d1     \u2013   \u2013   \u2013  \u23d1     \u2013  \u2013      \u2013   \u23d1   \u2013   \u2013    \u2013   \u23d1  \u2013\n    \u03b2\u03bb\u03b5\u03c8\u03bf\u03bd | _\u03b5\u03b9\u03c2 \u03b7\u03bc_|\u03b1\u03c2 \u03b9\u03bd | _\u03b1\u03c1\u03c7\u03b1\u03c2_ | \u03c4\u03c9\u03bd \u03bb\u03bf\u03b3|_\u03c9\u03bd \u03c4\u03b1\u03c5\u03c4_|\u03b1\u03c2 \u03bb\u03b1\u03b2|\u03c9\ua788 (_Iph.\n                                                               Aul._, 320).\n\nSpondees may occur only in the second, fourth, or sixth foot.\n\nThe tribrach also is often employed by Euripides:\u2014\n\n     \u2013 \u23d1    \u2013   \u2013  \u2013   \u23d1  \u2013 \u2013     \u23d1 \u23d1  \u23d1   \u2013  \u2013   \u2013   \u23d1 \u2013\n    \u03c8\u03b7\u03c6\u03bf\u03bd | \u03b1\u03bc\u03c6 \u03b7\u03bc|\u03c9\u03bd \u03c0\u03bf\u03bb|\u03b9\u03c4\u03b1\u03c2 | _\u03b5\u03c0\u03b9 \u03c6\u03bf\u03bd_|\u1ff3 \u03b8\u03b5\u03c3\u03b8|\u03b1\u03b9 \u03c7\u03c1\u03b5|\u03c9\u03bd\ua788 (_Orestes_,\n                                                                756).\n\n    \u2013  \u23d1  \u2013     \u2013  \u2013    \u23d1   \u23d1 \u23d1 \u23d1     \u2013  \u23d1     \u2013   \u23d1  \u2013   \u23d1  \u2013\n    \u03b5\u03c5\u03c4\u03c5\u03c7|\u03b5\u03b9\u03c2 \u03b4 \u03b7\u03bc|\u03b5\u03b9\u03c2  \u03b5\u03c3|_\u03bf\u03bc\u03b5\u03b8\u03b1_ | \u03c4\u03b1\u03bb\u03bb\u03b1 \u03b4 | \u03bf\u03c5 \u03bb\u03b5\u03b3|\u03bf\u03c5\u03c3 \u03bf\u03bc|\u03c9\u03c2\ua788 (_Iph.\n                                                           Taur._ 1232).\n\nThe fifth foot is the favourite place for the tribrach, and next to that\nthe first:\u2014\n\n      \u23d1 \u23d1\u23d1    \u2013   \u23d1  \u2013   \u23d1  \u2013  \u23d1    \u23d1 \u23d1  \u23d1  \u2013 \u2013  \u2013  \u23d1  \u2013\n    \u03c7\u03c1\u03bf\u03bd\u03b9\u03bf\u03c2 | \u03b1\u03bb\u03bb \u03bf\u03bc|\u03c9\u03c2 \u03c4\u03b1\u03c7|\u03b9\u03c3\u03c4\u03b1 | \u03ba\u03b1\u03ba\u03bf\u03c2 \u03b5\u03c6|\u03c9\u03c1\u03b1\u03b8|\u03b7 \u03c6\u03b9\u03bb|\u03bf\u03b9\u03c2\ua788 (_Orestes_,\n                                                              740).\n\nEuripides, late in his career, introduced a good deal of license, here\nas elsewhere. Firstly, tribrachs become far more frequent and occur in\nunusual places:\u2014\n\n    \u23d1 \u23d1 \u23d1 \u2013   \u23d1  \u2013 \u23d1    \u2013   \u2013     \u23d1  \u23d1 \u23d1    \u2013   \u23d1    \u23d1 \u23d1 \u23d1  \u1dcb\n    \u03b1\u03bd\u03bf\u03c3\u03b9|\u03bf\u03c2 \u03c0\u03b5\u03c6|\u03c5\u03ba\u03b1\u03c2 | \u03b1\u03bb\u03bb \u03bf\u03c5 | \u03c0\u03b1\u03c4\u03c1\u03b9\u03b4\u03bf\u03c2 | \u03c9\u03c2 \u03c3\u03c5 | \u03c0\u03bf\u03bb\u03b5\u03bc\u03b9|\u03bf\u03c2\ua788 (_Ph\u0153niss\u00e6_,\n                                                                 609).\n\nTo place a resolved foot practically at the end of the line is bold\u2014the\nmetre is shaken almost to pieces. Here, as in other respects, Euripides\npoints forward to the conversational manner of the New Comedy. But he\ngoes further, and allows feet hitherto not found in trochaics: the\nanap\u00e6st and the dactyl. The latter, however, is extremely rare[868] and\nemployed only with proper names:\u2014\n\n     \u2013  \u23d1  \u2013    \u23d1   \u2013   \u23d1 \u23d1   \u2013   \u23d1    \u2013   \u23d1  \u2013  \u2013    \u2013  \u23d1    \u2013\n    \u03c3\u03c5\u03b3\u03b3\u03bf\u03bd|\u03bf\u03bd \u03c4 \u03b5\u03bc|_\u03b7\u03bd \u03a0\u03c5\u03bb\u03b1\u03b4_|\u03b7\u03bd \u03c4\u03b5 | \u03c4\u03bf\u03bd \u03c4\u03b1\u03b4|\u03b5 \u03be\u03c5\u03bd\u03b4\u03c1|\u03c9\u03bd\u03c4\u03b1 | \u03bc\u03bf\u03b9\ua788\n                                                      (_Orestes_, 1535).\n\n    \u2013   \u23d1     \u2013 \u23d1 \u23d1   \u2013 \u23d1    \u23d1 \u23d1 \u2013     \u2013  \u23d1    \u2013   \u23d1   \u2013 \u23d1   \u1dcb\n    \u03b5\u03b9\u03c2 \u03b1\u03c1 | _\u0399\u03c6\u03b9\u03b3\u03b5\u03bd_|\u03b5\u03b9\u03b1\u03bd | \u0395\u03bb\u03b5\u03bd\u03b7\u03c2 | \u03bd\u03bf\u03c3\u03c4\u03bf\u03c2 | \u03b7\u03bd \u03c0\u03b5\u03c0\u03c1|\u03c9\u03bc\u03b5\u03bd|\u03bf\u03c2\ua788 (_Iph.\n                                                            Aul._, 882).\n\nThe anap\u00e6st is commoner (there is a proper-name instance in the line just\nquoted):\u2014\n\n    \u2013   \u23d1     \u23d1 \u23d1 \u2013    \u2013  \u23d1    \u2013 \u2013     \u23d1  \u23d1  \u23d1  \u2013 \u23d1    \u2013  \u23d1  \u2013\n    \u03c9\u03c2 \u03bd\u03b9\u03bd | _\u03b9\u03ba\u03b5\u03c4\u03b5\u03c5\u03c3_|\u03c9 \u03bc\u03b5 | \u03c3\u03c9\u03c3\u03b1\u03b9 | \u03c4\u03bf \u03b3\u03b5 \u03b4\u03b9\u03ba|\u03b1\u03b9\u03bf\u03bd | \u03c9\u03b4 \u03b5\u03c7|\u03b5\u03b9\ua788\n                                                          (_Orestes_, 797).\n\n     \u2013   \u23d1   \u2013  \u23d1    \u23d1 \u23d1 \u23d1  \u2013   \u2013     \u2013  \u23d1     \u23d1 \u23d1 \u2013   \u2013    \u23d1   \u1dcb\n    \u03ba\u03b1\u03b9 \u03c3\u03c5 | \u03bc\u03b7\u03c4\u03b5\u03c1 | \u03b1\u03b8\u03b5\u03bc\u03b9\u03c4|\u03bf\u03bd \u03c3\u03bf\u03b9 | \u03bc\u03b7\u03c4\u03c1\u03bf\u03c2 | _\u03bf\u03bd\u03bf\u03bc\u03b1\u03b6_|\u03b5\u03b9\u03bd \u03ba\u03b1\u03c1|\u03b1\ua788 (_Ph\u0153n._,\n                                                                    612).\n\nThere is no rule as to c\u00e6sura. The end of the fourth foot regularly\ncoincides with the end of a word; such an arrangement is named\ndi\u00e6resis.[869] In all extant tragedy only one certain exception to this\nrule is found:\u2014\n\n    \u2013   \u23d1  \u2013    \u2013   \u2013 \u23d1    \u2013   \u2013   \u2013 \u23d1     \u2013  \u2013  \u2013  \u23d1   \u1dcb\n    \u03b5\u03b9 \u03b4\u03bf\u03ba|\u03b5\u03b9 \u03c3\u03c4\u03b5\u03b9\u03c7|\u03c9\u03bc\u03b5\u03bd | \u03c9 _\u03b3\u03b5\u03bd\u03bd|\u03b1\u03b9\u03bf\u03bd_ | \u03b5\u03b9\u03c1\u03b7\u03ba|\u03c9\u03c2 \u03b5\u03c0|\u03bf\u03c2\ua788 (_Philoctetes_,\n                                                             1402).\n\nSince di\u00e6resis is practically always found in so many hundreds of lines,\nbeing preserved even in the loosest writing of Euripides, why should we\nregard the recognized trochaic verse as an unity? Why not write, _e.g._:\u2014\n\n    \u03bf\u1f50 \u03b3\u1f70\u03c1 \u1f02\u03bd \u03be\u03c5\u03bc\u03b2\u03b1\u1fd6\u03bc\u03b5\u03bd \u1f04\u03bb\u03bb\u03c9\u03c2\n    \u1f22 \u2019\u03c0\u1f76 \u03c4\u03bf\u1fd6\u03c2 \u03b5\u1f30\u03c1\u03b7\u03bc\u03ad\u03bd\u03bf\u03b9\u03c2,\n    \u1f65\u03c3\u03c4\u2019 \u1f10\u03bc\u1f72 \u03c3\u03ba\u03ae\u03c0\u03c4\u03c1\u03c9\u03bd \u03ba\u03c1\u03b1\u03c4\u03bf\u1fe6\u03bd\u03c4\u03b1\n    \u03c4\u1fc6\u03c3\u03b4\u2019 \u1f04\u03bd\u03b1\u03ba\u03c4\u2019 \u03b5\u1f36\u03bd\u03b1\u03b9 \u03c7\u03b8\u03bf\u03bd\u03cc\u03c2 (_Ph\u0153niss\u00e6_, 590 _sq._).\n\nIf the line falls into two clearly marked halves, why not show this to\nthe eye? There is no unanswerable objection to doing so\u2014the passage above\ncorresponds exactly in rhythmical form to much English verse, _e.g._:\u2014\n\n    Art is long, and Time is fleeting,\n      And our hearts, though stout and brave,\n    Still, like muffled drums, are beating\n      Funeral marches to the grave.\n\nThe practice in English is to break up the long trochaic \u201cline\u201d into\ntwo when the words at the di\u00e6resis rhyme (as in the above passage\nfrom Longfellow), but not to do so when the only rhymes occur at the\ncatalectic foot. We print the opening of another poem by Longfellow thus:\u2014\n\n    In the market-place of Bruges stands the belfry old and brown;\n    Thrice consumed and thrice rebuilded, still it watches o\u2019er the town.\n\nIn Greek there is, of course, no rhyme-scheme to settle this, but\nthe regular catalexis is felt to mark off separate units. The entire\nquestion depends upon personal fancy,[870] though the instance from\nthe _Philoctetes_ shows that Sophocles at any rate regarded the whole\noctonarius as the unit.\n\nSubjoined is the scheme:\u2014\n\n1     2       3       4     5     6     7     8\n\u2013\u23d1    \u2013\u23d1      \u2013\u23d1      \u2013\u23d1    \u2013\u23d1    \u2013\u23d1    \u2013\u23d1    \u2013\ua788\n\u23d1\u23d1\u23d1   \u2013\u202f\u2013      \u23d1\u23d1\u23d1     \u2013\u202f\u2013    \u23d1\u23d1\u23d1   \u2013\u202f\u2013    \u23d1\u23d1\u23d1\n      \u23d1\u23d1\u23d1     [\u2013\u23d1\u23d1]   \u23d1\u23d1\u23d1         \u23d1\u23d1\u23d1\n      \u23d1\u23d1\u2013             \u23d1\u23d1\u2013         \u23d1\u23d1\u2013\n      [\u2013\u23d1\u23d1]\n\n\n\u00a7 IV. THE ANAP\u00c6STIC METRE\n\nWhereas iambics and trochaics were declaimed by the actors, anap\u00e6sts were\nused mostly by the chorus, and were chanted in recitative. They are found\nwhen the chorus move into the orchestra, or salute the entrance of a new\ncharacter. Most tragedies end with a brief anap\u00e6stic system, executed by\nthe singers as they depart.\n\nThe most usual line is a tetrapody\u2014that is, a verse of four feet:\u2014\n\n     \u23d1  \u23d1   \u2013     \u23d1 \u23d1  \u2013      \u23d1  \u23d1  \u2013  \u23d1  \u23d1 \u2013\n    \u03c4\u03b9 \u03c3\u03c5 \u03c0\u03c1\u03bf\u03c2 | \u03bc\u03b5\u03bb\u03b1\u03b8\u03c1\u03bf\u03b9\u03c2 | \u03c4\u03b9 \u03c3\u03c5 \u03c4\u1fc3\u03b4|\u03b5 \u03c0\u03bf\u03bb\u03b5\u03b9\u03c2; (_Alcestis_, 29).\n\nBut lines consisting of anap\u00e6sts alone are very uncommon. The spondee is\noften found:\u2014\n\n    \u2013   \u2013   \u23d1 \u23d1  \u2013     \u23d1 \u23d1  \u2013   \u2013 \u2013\n    \u03bf\u03c5\u03ba \u03b7\u03c1\u03ba|\u03b5\u03c3\u03b5 \u03c3\u03bf\u03b9 | \u03bc\u03bf\u03c1\u03bf\u03bd \u0391\u03b4\u03bc|\u03b7\u03c4\u03bf\u03c5 (_Alcestis_, 32).\n\nDactyls also are frequent:\u2014\n\n      \u2013 \u2013   \u23d1  \u23d1  \u2013    \u2013    \u23d1 \u23d1    \u2013  \u2013\n    \u03c3\u03c6\u03b7\u03bb\u03b1\u03bd\u03c4|\u03b9 \u03c4\u03b5\u03c7\u03bd\u1fc3 | \u03bd\u03c5\u03bd \u03b4 \u03b5\u03c0\u03b9 | \u03c4\u1fc3\u03b4 \u03b1\u03c5 (_Ibid._, 34).\n\nNo other foot is admitted, but each of these three may occur at any place\nin the line.\n\nBesides the tetrapody, we find now and then a dipody, or verse of two\nfeet.\n\nAnap\u00e6stic systems are invariably closed by a catalectic verse:\u2014\n\n    \u2013  \u2013     \u23d1 \u23d1 \u2013      \u23d1 \u23d1\u2013     \u2013\n    \u03b1\u03c5\u03c4\u03b7 | \u03c0\u03c1\u03bf\u03b8\u03b1\u03bd\u03b5\u03b9\u03bd | \u03a0\u03b5\u03bb\u03b9\u03bf\u03c5 | \u03c0\u03b1\u03b9\u03c2\ua788\u0304 (_Ibid._, 37).\n\nIn systems of considerable length such lines occur at intervals. They are\ncalled \u201cpar\u0153miacs\u201d.[871]\n\n\n\u00a7 V. LYRICS\n\nThe metres of Greek songs form a difficult and complicated study. So long\nas we do not know the music composed for them, the scansion of lyrics\nmust remain a more difficult and doubtful question than that of the\niambics, episodic trochaics, and anap\u00e6sts.\n\nThe best preparation for their study is the habit of reading iambics\nand trochaics with correct quantities and natural emphasis. Let us,\nso prepared, address ourselves to the following passage[872] from the\n_Agamemnon_ (975 _sqq._):\u2014\n\n      \u03a4\u03af\u03c0\u03c4\u03b5 \u03bc\u03bf\u03b9 \u03c4\u03cc\u03b4\u2019 \u1f14\u03bc\u03c0\u03b5\u03b4\u03bf\u03bd\n      \u03b4\u03b5\u1fd6\u03bc\u03b1 \u03c0\u03c1\u03bf\u03c3\u03c4\u03b1\u03c4\u03ae\u03c1\u03b9\u03bf\u03bd\n      \u03ba\u03b1\u03c1\u03b4\u03af\u03b1\u03c2 \u03c4\u03b5\u03c1\u03b1\u03c3\u03ba\u03cc\u03c0\u03bf\u03c5 \u03c0\u03bf\u03c4\u1fb6\u03c4\u03b1\u03b9;\n      \u03bc\u03b1\u03bd\u03c4\u03b9\u03c0\u03bf\u03bb\u03b5\u1fd6 \u03b4\u2019 \u1f00\u03ba\u03ad\u03bb\u03b5\u03c5\u03c3\u03c4\u03bf\u03c2 \u1f04\u03bc\u03b9\u03c3\u03b8\u03bf\u03c2 \u1f00\u03bf\u03b9\u03b4\u03ac,\n      \u03bf\u1f50\u03b4\u2019 \u1f00\u03c0\u03bf\u03c0\u03c4\u03cd\u03c3\u03b1\u03b9 \u03b4\u03af\u03ba\u03b1\u03bd\n      \u03b4\u03c5\u03c3\u03ba\u03c1\u03af\u03c4\u03c9\u03bd \u1f40\u03bd\u03b5\u03b9\u03c1\u03ac\u03c4\u03c9\u03bd\n        \u03b8\u03ac\u03c1\u03c3\u03bf\u03c2 \u03b5\u1f50\u03c0\u03b5\u03b9\u03b8\u1f72\u03c2 \u1f35\u03b6\u03b5\u03b9 \u03c6\u03c1\u03b5\u03bd\u1f78\u03c2 \u03c6\u03af\u03bb\u03bf\u03bd \u03b8\u03c1\u03cc\u03bd\u03bf\u03bd;\n    \u03c7\u03c1\u03cc\u03bd\u03bf\u03c2 \u03b4\u03ad \u03c4\u03bf\u03b9 \u03c0\u03c1\u03c5\u03bc\u03bd\u03b7\u03c3\u03af\u03c9\u03bd \u03be\u03c5\u03bd\u03b5\u03bc\u03b2\u03bf\u03bb\u03b1\u1fd6\u03c2\n      \u03c8\u03b1\u03bc\u03bc\u03af\u03b1\u03c2 \u1f10\u03be \u1f00\u03ba\u03c4\u1fb6\u03c2 \u03b2\u03ad\u03b2\u03b7\u03ba\u03b5\u03bd, \u03b5\u1f56\u03b8\u2019 \u1f51\u03c0\u2019 \u1f3c\u03bb\u03b9\u03bf\u03bd\n      \u1f66\u03c1\u03c4\u03bf \u03bd\u03b1\u03c5\u03b2\u03ac\u03c4\u03b1\u03c2 \u03c3\u03c4\u03c1\u03b1\u03c4\u03cc\u03c2.\n\nIt soon becomes plain that the passage is, at any rate in the main,\ntrochaic. The first two lines scan easily, ending with a catalectic foot.\nWe note that the third seems to drag at the end:\u2014\n\n     \u2013  \u23d1 \u2013   \u23d1  \u2013  \u23d1  \u2013   \u23d1  \u2013 \u2013\n    \u03ba\u03b1\u03c1\u03b4\u03b9|\u03b1\u03c2 \u03c4\u03b5\u03c1|\u03b1\u03c3\u03ba\u03bf\u03c0|\u03bf\u03c5 \u03c0\u03bf\u03c4|\u03b1\u03c4\u03b1\u03b9,\n\nfor we remember that in the trochaic octonarius the last complete foot is\nnever a spondee. But in the fourth line we are quite baffled:\u2014\n\n     \u2013  \u23d1  \u23d1 \u2013      \u23d1 \u23d1 \u2013\n    \u03bc\u03b1\u03bd\u03c4\u03b9\u03c0|\u03bf\u03bb\u03b5\u03b9 \u03b4 | \u03b1\u03ba\u03b5\u03bb\u03b5\u03c5\u03c3\u03c4|\u03bf\u03c2...?\n\nAnap\u00e6sts are very rare in trochaics, iambi unknown. That the iambus\nshould never replace the trochee is quite natural. It would be hideous\nrhythm, in the first line of _Locksley Hall_, instead of \u201cC\u00f3mrades, leave\nme here a little ...,\u201d to write \u201cDrago\u00f3ns, leave me ...\u201d. The foot \u03bf\u0306\u03bb\u03b5\u1fd1\ncannot be right. The line seems hopeless; or rather, if we have any\nknowledge of Homeric and Virgilian metre, we recognize something like the\ndactylic hexameter:\u2014\n\n     \u2013  \u23d1 \u23d1  \u2013    \u23d1 \u23d1  \u2013   \u23d1  \u23d1  \u2013  \u23d1  \u23d1 \u2013  \u2013\n    \u03bc\u03b1\u03bd\u03c4\u03b9\u03c0\u03bf\u03bb|\u03b5\u03b9 \u03b4 \u03b1\u03ba\u03b5\u03bb|\u03b5\u03c5\u03c3\u03c4\u03bf\u03c2 \u03b1\u03bc|\u03b9\u03c3\u03b8\u03bf\u03c2 \u03b1|\u03bf\u03b9\u03b4\u03b1.\n\nBut is such a passage possible in a trochaic passage written for Greek\nmusic? It is known that in Greek music the notes corresponded closely\nto the syllables; music composed for trochees will certainly be in\nthree-eighths time, for dactyls in four-eighths time. All these feet\nshould have three beats, not four.\n\nThe next two lines are plainly similar to the first and second. In\nthe seventh line we first wonder why, though we are in the midst of a\ngrammatical sentence, the words should begin farther to the right than is\nusual, as if for a new paragraph. When we try to scan, we find once more\nthe iambus-difficulty:\u2014\n\n     \u2013  \u23d1    \u2013  \u2013   \u23d1  \u2013\n    \u03b8\u03b1\u03c1\u03c3\u03bf\u03c2 | \u03b5\u03c5\u03c0\u03b5\u03b9\u03b8|\u03b5\u03c2 \u03b9\u03b6....\n\nIf we work backwards from the end, -\u03bf\u03c2 \u03c6\u03b9\u03bb\u03bf\u03bd \u03b8\u03c1\u03bf\u03bd\u03bf\u03bd gives the familiar\ntrochaic-octonarius ending, \u2013\u23d1|\u2013\u23d1|\u2013\ua788. But the middle of the line has\nfallen to pieces, and for the present we leave it.\n\nThe eighth line seems at first more familiar. Is it not the ordinary\niambic senarius of \u00a7 II? But where is the c\u00e6sura? And can we suddenly\ninsert an iambic line into a trochaic system? Is it then possible\nafter all to scan it as some kind of trochaics? Begin at the end. ...\n\u03b5\u0305\u03bc\u0305\u03b2\u03bf\u0306\u03bb\u03b1\u0305\u03b9\u0305\u03c2\ua788 suits excellently; and if we work backwards we soon find\nthat the whole would fall readily into trochaics if only we could ignore\nthe first syllable:\u2014\n\n        \u2013   \u23d1    \u2013    \u2013   \u2013 \u23d1 \u2013   \u23d1  \u2013  \u23d1  \u2013\n    \u03c7\u03c1\u03bf\u03bd\u03bf\u03c2 \u03b4\u03b5 | \u03c4\u03bf\u03b9 \u03c0\u03c1\u03bf\u03bc\u03bd|\u03b7\u03c3\u03b9|\u03c9\u03bd \u03be\u03c5\u03bd|\u03b5\u03bc\u03b2\u03bf|\u03bb\u03b1\u03b9\u03c2\ua788\n\nBut why should we ignore it? And why does the line begin farther to the\nleft?\n\nThe ninth line again offers perplexity in the first half, clearness in\nthe second:\u2014\n\n    \u2013 \u23d1    \u2013   \u23d1    \u2013 \u23d1  \u1dcb\n    \u03b7\u03ba\u03b5\u03bd | \u03b5\u03c5\u03b8 \u03c5\u03c0 | \u0399\u03bb\u03b9|\u03bf\u03bd\ua788.\n\nGrown by this time bolder, we attack the first half in detail, working\nbackwards. \u1fb1\u03c2 \u03b2\u03b5\u0306 is easy. Then \u1f10\u03be \u03b1\u03ba\u03c4 ... may be either \u2013\u23d1 or \u2013\u202f\u2013, both\nof which are admissible. We are left with \u03c8\u0305\u03b1\u0305\u03bc\u03bc\u1fd0\u1fb1\u03c2. Reading the whole\nline over slowly, marking the trochees carefully, we find ourselves\nsomehow dwelling on the last syllable of \u03c8\u03b1\u03bc\u03bc\u03af\u03b1\u03c2. Why should we? If that\nsyllable were only \u2013\u23d1, all would be well; but it is not. Finally, the\ntenth and last line is quite easy:\u2014\n\n    \u2013  \u23d1    \u2013  \u23d1  \u2013     \u23d1  \u23d1\u2013\n    \u03c9\u03c1\u03c4\u03bf | \u03bd\u03b1\u03c5\u03b2\u03b1\u03c4|\u03b1\u03c2 \u03c3\u03c4\u03c1\u03b1\u03c4|\u03bf\u03c2\ua788.\n\nThe whole passage then is trochaic; but we have met four difficulties:\n(i) the necessity to dwell upon certain syllables, (ii) the irrational\npresence of dactyls, (iii) the temptation to ignore the first syllable of\n\u03c7\u03c1\u03cc\u03bd\u03bf\u03c2, (iv) the insetting of \u03b8\u03ac\u03c1\u03c3\u03bf\u03c2. Understanding of these four facts\nwill carry us a long way. We take them in order.\n\nOur first point indicates that we must revise that division of all\nsyllables into \u201clongs\u201d of equal value and \u201cshorts\u201d of equal value (each\n\u201clong\u201d being exactly equivalent to two \u201cshorts\u201d) which obtains in\niambics. The lyric metres recognize syllables of greater length than\n\u23d1\u23d1. Most frequent is the length \u23d7, equal to \u23d1\u23d1\u23d1. A syllable of this\nlength is therefore admitted in lyric trochaic systems as a whole foot,\nand investigations, such as we have practised above, will generally show\nwhere such a foot is to be postulated. We can now scan certain portions\nwhich we found troublesome:\u2014\n\n     \u2013  \u23d1    \u23d7     \u2013  \u23d1    \u23d7\n    \u03b8\u03b1\u03c1\u03c3\u03bf\u03c2 | \u03b5\u03c5\u03c0 | \u03b5\u03b9\u03b8\u03b5\u03c2 | \u03b9\u03b6 | ...\n\n     \u2013  \u23d1 \u23d7    \u2013  \u23d1     \u2013\n    \u03c8\u03b1\u03bc\u03bc\u03b9|\u03b1\u03c2 | \u03b5\u03be \u03b1\u03ba\u03c4 | \u03b1\u03c2....\n\nMoreover, as we were suspicious of the final spondee (replacing\nthe expected trochee) in the third line, we obtain at any rate a\nquasi-trochee by scanning thus:\u2014\n\n     \u2013  \u23d1 \u2013   \u23d1  \u2013  \u23d1  \u2013   \u23d1  \u23d7  \u2013\n    \u03ba\u03b1\u03c1\u03b4\u03b9|\u03b1\u03c2 \u03c4\u03b5\u03c1|\u03b1\u03c3\u03ba\u03bf\u03c0|\u03bf\u03c5 \u03c0\u03bf\u03c4|\u03b1\u03c4|\u03b1\u03b9\ua788.\n\nThis prolongation of a syllable is called \u03c4\u03bf\u03bd\u03ae (\u201cstretching\u201d). Such a\nsyllable may fill a foot, as in trochaics, and this rhythm is said to be\nsyncopated.[873]\n\nNext comes the dactylic fourth line, which introduces another vital\nrule. Trochaic systems admit, not genuine dactyls, but \u201ccyclic\u201d dactyls.\nTo the \u201clong\u201d of each foot and to the first \u201cshort\u201d is given less than\ntheir usual length: the rhythm is accelerated, so that \u2013\u23d1 is equivalent\nto \u2013, and the whole cyclic dactyl, marked  \u1dcb\u23d1, is equivalent to a\ntrochee.[874] Whenever we see a number of apparent dactyls, we must\nexamine the whole passage to find whether it is trochaic or not. Trochaic\nsystems which contain cyclic dactyls are called \u201clogaoedic\u201d.[875] The\npresent line, then, being trochaic, we feel the same doubt of the final\nspondee (which would equal \u23d1\u23d1\u23d1\u23d1, not \u23d1\u23d1\u23d1, as it should) which we felt in\nthe third line, and scan the whole:\u2014\n\n     \u2013  \u23d1 \u23d1   \u2013 \u23d1   \u23d1   \u2013  \u23d1  \u23d1  \u2013  \u23d1   \u23d1 \u23d7   \u2013\n    \u03bc\u03b1\u03bd\u03c4\u03b9\u03c0\u03bf\u03bb|\u03b5\u03b9 \u03b4 \u03b1\u03ba\u03b5\u03bb|\u03b5\u03c5\u03c3\u03c4\u03bf\u03c2 \u03b1\u03bc|\u03b9\u03c3\u03b8\u03bf\u03c2  \u03b1|\u03bf\u03b9\u03b4|\u03b1\ua788.\n\nOur third question touched the first syllable of \u03c7\u03c1\u03cc\u03bd\u03bf\u03c2 in the sixth\nline. It is, as a fact, to be regarded as standing outside the metrical\nline\u2014a kind of prelude, called \u201canacrusis\u201d.[876] It is plain that neglect\nof anacrusis will often throw our scansion out completely. A useful rule\ncan be given: in almost[877] any line, whatever comes before the first\nlong syllable forms an anacrusis. The reason is that the first syllable\nof a foot must have an \u201cictus\u201d (see below) or stress-accent, and the\nfoot-ictus normally falls on long syllables. It becomes natural then to\npronounce the first short or shorts (if any) quickly, and to give the\nfirst long the ictus; in this way the short is felt as a mere preliminary\nto the line. The anacrusis, however, can be of three forms, \u23d1, \u23d1\u23d1, \u2013. Its\nlength must be that of the second part of the characteristic foot, \u23d1 for\ntrochees, \u2013 or \u23d1\u23d1 for dactyls, and so forth. It is marked off from the\nfirst foot by the sign \u205d.\n\nThe fourth point was the insetting of \u03b8\u03ac\u03c1\u03c3\u03bf\u03c2. It happens in the middle\nof a grammatical sentence, so that there can be no question of an\nordinary paragraph. But if it does not point to a break in sense, its\nonly reference can be rhythmical. The whole passage must fall into two\ndistinct rhythmical paragraphs. Let us scan them separately and endeavour\nto find a reason for this break. Take the first, scanning, marking, and\nnumbering the feet:\u2014\n\n     \u2013  \u23d1    \u2013   \u23d1    \u2013 \u23d1   \u2013\n    \u03c4\u03b9\u03c0\u03c4\u03b5 | \u03bc\u03bf\u03b9 \u03c4\u03bf\u03b4 | \u03b5\u03bc\u03c0\u03b5\u03b4|\u03bf\u03bd\ua788\u2016\n      1        2        3    4\n\n     \u2013  \u23d1     \u2013  \u23d1  \u2013 \u23d1  \u2013\n    \u03b4\u03b5\u03b9\u03bc\u03b1 | \u03c0\u03c1\u03bf\u03c3\u03c4\u03b1\u03c4|\u03b7\u03c1\u03b9|\u03bf\u03bd\ua788\u2016\n       1       2     3   4\n\n     \u2013  \u23d1 \u2013   \u23d1  \u2013  \u23d1  \u2013   \u23d1  \u23d7  \u2013\n    \u03ba\u03b1\u03c1\u03b4\u03b9|\u03b1\u03c2 \u03c4\u03b5\u03c1|\u03b1\u03c3\u03ba\u03bf\u03c0|\u03bf\u03c5 \u03c0\u03bf\u03c4|\u03b1\u03c4|\u03b1\u03b9\ua788\u2016\n      1      2     3      4    5  6\n\n     \u2013  \u23d1 \u23d1   \u2013 \u23d1   \u23d1   \u2013 \u23d1   \u23d1  \u2013 \u23d1   \u23d1 \u23d7   \u2013\n    \u03bc\u03b1\u03bd\u03c4\u03b9\u03c0\u03bf\u03bb|\u03b5\u03b9 \u03b4 \u03b1\u03ba\u03b5\u03bb|\u03b5\u03c5\u03c3\u03c4\u03bf\u03c2 \u03b1\u03bc|\u03b9\u03c3\u03b8\u03bf\u03c2 \u03b1|\u03bf\u03b9\u03b4|\u03b1\ua788\u2016\n        1        2         3        4     5  6\n\n    \u2013   \u23d1  \u2013  \u23d1  \u2013   \u23d1  \u2013\n    \u03bf\u03c5\u03b4 \u03b1\u03c0|\u03bf\u03c0\u03c4\u03c5\u03c3|\u03b1\u03b9 \u03b4\u03b9\u03ba|\u03b1\u03bd\ua788\u2016\n     1       2      3    4\n\n     \u2013   \u23d1  \u2013  \u23d1  \u2013  \u23d1  \u2013\n    \u03b4\u03c5\u03c3\u03ba\u03c1\u03b9\u03c4|\u03c9\u03bd \u03bf\u03bd|\u03b5\u03b9\u03c1\u03b1\u03c4|\u03c9\u03bd\ua788\u2016\n       1      2     3    4\n\nIf we examine this to find structural unity, it soon appears. The first\npair of lines answers to the last, and line three to line four, in the\nnumber of their feet 4 + 4, 6, 6, 4 + 4. The correspondence is indicated\nthus:\u2014\n\n       \u23b0 4\n    \u239b  \u23b1 4\n    \u239c  \u239b 6\n    \u239c  \u239d 6\n    \u239d  \u23b0 4\n       \u23b1 4\n\nEach of these masses, it will be noticed, is marked off by the sign \u2016.\nSuch a mass is named a \u201csentence\u201d or \u201ccolon\u201d (\u03ba\u1ff6\u03bb\u03bf\u03bd, \u201climb\u201d), and such a\nbalanced structure of cola is named a \u201cperiod\u201d (\u03c0\u03b5\u03c1\u03af\u03bf\u03b4\u03bf\u03c2, \u201ccircuit\u201d). It\nhappens that in the passage just examined the \u201csentence\u201d division always\noccurs at the end of a word, but this is not invariably so. We proceed\nnow with the second paragraph[878]\u2014the second period as we shall now call\nit.\n\n           \u2013  \u23d1    \u23d7    \u2013 \u23d1    \u23d7  \u2013    \u23d1  \u2013   \u23d1  \u2013    \u23d1  \u2013\n          \u03b8\u03b1\u03c1\u03c3\u03bf\u03c2 | \u03b5\u03c5\u03c0|\u03b5\u03b9\u03b8\u03b5\u03c2 | \u03b9\u03b6\u2016\u03b5\u03b9 \u03c6\u03c1\u03b5\u03bd|\u03bf\u03c2 \u03c6\u03b9\u03bb|\u03bf\u03bd \u03c6\u03c1\u03bf\u03bd|\u03bf\u03bd\ua788\u2016\n             1      2    3     4      1       2      3     4\n\n      \u23d1  \u2013   \u23d1    \u2013    \u02c3   \u2013 \u23d1 \u2013   \u23d1    \u2013  \u23d1  \u2013\n    \u03c7\u03c1\u03bf\u03bd\u205d\u03bf\u03c2 \u03b4\u03b5 | \u03c4\u03bf\u03b9 \u03c0\u03c1\u03c5\u03bc\u03bd|\u03b7\u03c3\u03b9|\u03c9\u03bd \u03be\u03c5\u03bd | \u03b5\u03bc\u03b2\u03bf\u03bb|\u03b1\u03b9\u03c2\ua788\u2016\n             1         2      3     4       5    6\n\n           \u2013  \u23d1 \u23d7    \u2013  \u23d1   \u2013   \u23d1  \u2013 \u23d1     \u2013  \u23d1    \u2013 \u23d1 \u2013\n          \u03c8\u03b1\u03bc\u03bc\u03b9|\u03b1\u03c2 | \u03b5\u03be \u03b1\u03ba\u03c4|\u03b1\u03c2 \u03b2\u03b5\u03b2\u2016\u03b7\u03ba\u03b5\u03bd | \u03b5\u03c5\u03b8 \u03c5\u03c0 | \u0399\u03bb\u03b9|\u03bf\u03bd\ua788\u2016\n            1    2     3       4      1       2    3   4\n\n          \u2013  \u23d1    \u2013  \u23d1  \u2013     \u23d1  \u2013\n          \u03c9\u03c1\u03c4\u03bf | \u03bd\u03b1\u03c5\u03b2\u03b1\u03c4|\u03b1\u03c2 \u03c3\u03c4\u03c1\u03b1\u03c4|\u03bf\u03c2\ua788\u2016\n            1      2        3     4\n\nThat is: 4 + 4, 6, 4 + 4, 4. This would be an obviously well-balanced\nstructure but for the last colon, to which nothing corresponds. Such\nan extra sentence is called a \u201cpostlude\u201d (\u1f10\u03c0\u1ff3\u03b4\u03b9\u03ba\u03cc\u03bd). Non-corresponding\nsentences like this are far from rare.[879] They may occur at the\nbeginning of the period (\u201cprelude,\u201d \u03c0\u03c1\u03bf\u1ff3\u03b4\u03b9\u03ba\u03cc\u03bd), in the middle (\u201cmesode,\u201d\n\u03bc\u03b5\u03c3\u03c9\u03b4\u03b9\u03ba\u03cc\u03bd), or at the end. This very period supplies an example of a\nmesode as well as of a postlude. The scheme is:\u2014\n\n      \u23b0 4\n    \u239b \u23b1 4\n    \u239c   6\u2014mesode.\n    \u239d \u23b0 4\n      \u23b1 4\n        4\u2014postlude.\n\nThe whole passage, then, consists of two periods connected by meaning and\ngrammar, but\u2014for us\u2014by no more intimate musical bond than the common use\nof trochees. But the dance and music which accompanied the whole would\nclearly demonstrate its unity. The end of a period is indicated by \u2016.\n\nIt is necessary now to consider briefly the passage which immediately\nfollows (vv. 988 _sqq._):\u2014\n\n        \u03a0\u03b5\u03cd\u03b8\u03bf\u03bc\u03b1\u03b9 \u03b4\u2019 \u1f00\u03c0\u2019 \u1f40\u03bc\u03bc\u03ac\u03c4\u03c9\u03bd\n      \u03bd\u03cc\u03c3\u03c4\u03bf\u03bd, \u03b1\u1f50\u03c4\u03cc\u03bc\u03b1\u03c1\u03c4\u03c5\u03c2 \u1f64\u03bd\u00b7\n      \u03c4\u1f78\u03bd \u03b4\u2019 \u1f04\u03bd\u03b5\u03c5 \u03bb\u03cd\u03c1\u03b1\u03c2 \u1f45\u03bc\u03c9\u03c2 \u1f51\u03bc\u03bd\u1ff3\u03b4\u03b5\u1fd6\n      \u03b8\u03c1\u1fc6\u03bd\u03bf\u03bd \u1f18\u03c1\u03b9\u03bd\u03cd\u03bf\u03c2 \u03b1\u1f50\u03c4\u03bf\u03b4\u03af\u03b4\u03b1\u03ba\u03c4\u03bf\u03c2 \u1f14\u03c3\u03c9\u03b8\u03b5\u03bd\n      \u03b8\u03c5\u03bc\u03cc\u03c2, \u03bf\u1f50 \u03c4\u1f78 \u03c0\u1fb6\u03bd \u1f14\u03c7\u03c9\u03bd\n      \u1f10\u03bb\u03c0\u03af\u03b4\u03bf\u03c2 \u03c6\u03af\u03bb\u03bf\u03bd \u03b8\u03c1\u03ac\u03c3\u03bf\u03c2.\n        \u03c3\u03c0\u03bb\u03ac\u03b3\u03c7\u03bd\u03b1 \u03b4\u2019 \u03bf\u1f54\u03c4\u03bf\u03b9 \u03bc\u03b1\u03c4\u03ac\u03b6\u03b5\u03b9 \u03c0\u03c1\u1f78\u03c2 \u1f10\u03bd\u03b4\u03af\u03ba\u03bf\u03b9\u03c2 \u03c6\u03c1\u03b5\u03c3\u03af\u03bd\n    \u03c4\u03b5\u03bb\u03b5\u03c3\u03c6\u03cc\u03c1\u03bf\u03b9\u03c2 \u03b4\u03af\u03bd\u03b1\u03b9\u03c2 \u03ba\u03c5\u03ba\u03bb\u03bf\u03cd\u03bc\u03b5\u03bd\u03bf\u03bd \u03ba\u03ad\u03b1\u03c1.\n      \u03b5\u1f54\u03c7\u03bf\u03bc\u03b1\u03b9 \u03b4\u2019 \u1f10\u03be \u1f10\u03bc\u1fb6\u03c2 \u03c4\u03bf\u03b9[880] \u1f10\u03bb\u03c0\u03af\u03b4\u03bf\u03c2 \u03c8\u03cd\u03b8\u03b7 \u03c0\u03b5\u03c3\u03b5\u1fd6\u03bd\n      \u1f10\u03c2 \u03c4\u1f78 \u03bc\u1f74 \u03c4\u03b5\u03bb\u03b5\u03c3\u03c6\u03cc\u03c1\u03bf\u03bd.\n\nThis is an exact counterpart in syllables, feet, cola, and periods, of\nthe first passage. The first is called the \u201cstrophe\u201d (\u03c3\u03c4\u03c1\u03bf\u03c6\u03ae, \u201cturn\u201d),\nthe second the \u201cantistrophe\u201d (\u1f00\u03bd\u03c4\u03b9\u03c3\u03c4\u03c1\u03bf\u03c6\u03ae, \u201ccounter-turn\u201d). The chorus,\nwhile singing the one, performed various evolutions about the orchestra,\nand these were repeated exactly, but in reversed order, while they sang\nthe antistrophe. All these lyrics are so constructed; the normal tragic\n\u201cchorus\u201d consists of one or more such pairs, though occasionally the\nantistrophe is followed by a passage called an \u201cepode\u201d.[881] The epodes\ncorrespond to each other, not to the strophes. This equivalence of\nstrophe and antistrophe is often of value in determining the quantities\nor the text in one of them.\n\nWe have now gained some insight into the nature of a Greek choric song.\nBut before proceeding further it will be well to deepen our impression by\ntaking from the _Agamemnon_ (vv. 160 _sqq._) another, and a simpler, pair\nof strophes:\u2014\n\n    \u0396\u03b5\u03cd\u03c2, \u1f45\u03c3\u03c4\u03b9\u03c2 \u03c0\u03bf\u03c4\u2019 \u1f10\u03c3\u03c4\u03af\u03bd, \u03b5\u1f30 \u03c4\u03cc\u03b4\u2019 \u03b1\u1f50\u03c4\u1ff7 \u03c6\u03af\u03bb\u03bf\u03bd \u03ba\u03b5\u03ba\u03bb\u03b7\u03bc\u03ad\u03bd\u1ff3,\n    \u03c4\u03bf\u1fe6\u03c4\u03cc \u03bd\u03b9\u03bd \u03c0\u03c1\u03bf\u03c3\u03b5\u03bd\u03bd\u03ad\u03c0\u03c9.\n    \u03bf\u1f50\u03c7 \u1f14\u03c7\u03c9 \u03c0\u03c1\u03bf\u03c3\u03b5\u03b9\u03ba\u03ac\u03c3\u03b1\u03b9, \u03c0\u03ac\u03bd\u03c4\u2019 \u1f10\u03c0\u03b9\u03c3\u03c4\u03b1\u03b8\u03bc\u03ce\u03bc\u03b5\u03bd\u03bf\u03c2,\n    \u03c0\u03bb\u1f74\u03bd \u0394\u03b9\u03cc\u03c2, \u03b5\u1f30 \u03c4\u1f78 \u03bc\u03ac\u03c4\u03b1\u03bd \u1f00\u03c0\u1f78 \u03c6\u03c1\u03bf\u03bd\u03c4\u03af\u03b4\u03bf\u03c2 \u1f04\u03c7\u03b8\u03bf\u03c2\n    \u03c7\u03c1\u1f74 \u03b2\u03b1\u03bb\u03b5\u1fd6\u03bd \u1f10\u03c4\u03b7\u03c4\u03cd\u03bc\u03c9\u03c2.\n\n    \u03bf\u1f50\u03b4\u2019 \u1f45\u03c3\u03c4\u03b9\u03c2 \u03c0\u03ac\u03c1\u03bf\u03b9\u03b8\u03b5\u03bd \u1f26\u03bd \u03bc\u03ad\u03b3\u03b1\u03c2, \u03c0\u03b1\u03bc\u03bc\u03ac\u03c7\u1ff3 \u03b8\u03c1\u03ac\u03c3\u03b5\u03b9 \u03b2\u03c1\u03cd\u03c9\u03bd,\n    \u03bf\u1f50\u03b4\u1f72 \u03bb\u03ad\u03be\u03b5\u03c4\u03b1\u03b9 \u03c0\u03c1\u1f76\u03bd \u1f64\u03bd\u00b7\n    \u1f43\u03c2 \u03b4\u2019 \u1f14\u03c0\u03b5\u03b9\u03c4\u2019 \u1f14\u03c6\u03c5 \u03c4\u03c1\u03b9\u03b1\u03ba\u03c4\u1fc6\u03c1\u03bf\u03c2 \u03bf\u1f34\u03c7\u03b5\u03c4\u03b1\u03b9 \u03c4\u03c5\u03c7\u03ce\u03bd.\n    \u0396\u1fc6\u03bd\u03b1 \u03b4\u03ad \u03c4\u03b9\u03c2 \u03c0\u03c1\u03bf\u03c6\u03c1\u03cc\u03bd\u03c9\u03c2 \u1f10\u03c0\u03b9\u03bd\u03af\u03ba\u03b9\u03b1 \u03ba\u03bb\u03ac\u03b6\u03c9\u03bd\n    \u03c4\u03b5\u03cd\u03be\u03b5\u03c4\u03b1\u03b9 \u03c6\u03c1\u03b5\u03bd\u1ff6\u03bd \u03c4\u1f78 \u03c0\u1fb6\u03bd.\n\n    \u23d7|\u23d7|\u2013\u23d1|\u2013\u23d1|\u2013\u23d1|\u23d7\u2016\u2013\u23d1|\u2013\u23d1|\u2013\u23d1|\u2013\ua788\u2016\n    \u2013\u23d1|\u2013\u23d1|\u2013\u23d1|\u2013\ua788\u2016\n    \u2013\u23d1|\u2013\u23d1|\u2013\u23d1|\u23d7\u2016\u2013\u23d1|\u2013\u23d1|\u2013\u23d1|\u2013\ua788\u2016\n    \u2013\u23d1\u23d1|\u2013\u23d1\u23d1|\u2013\u23d1\u23d1|\u2013\u23d1\u23d1|\u23d7|\u2013\ua788\u2016\n    \u2013\u23d1|\u2013\u23d1|\u2013\u23d1|\u2013\ua788\u2016\n\n      \u23b0 6\n    \u239b \u23b1 4\n    \u239c \u239b 4\n    \u239c \u239c 4\u2014mesode.\n    \u239c \u239d 4\n    \u239d \u23b0 6\n      \u23b1 4\n\nThe chief interest of this subject is the art wherewith the Greek masters\naccompanied variations of emotion and the like with variations of rhythm.\nThis passage affords a simple and stately example. The heavy opening (\u23d7\u23d7)\nis followed by the more confident trochees till, at the last line but\none, religious rapture (in the strophe) and the ardour of triumph (in the\nantistrophe) burst forth with the leaping cyclic dactyls.\n\nWe have now become acquainted with three rhythmical masses: the colon,\nthe period, the strophe. Are there others? What is a \u201cverse\u201d in lyrics?\nThere is no such thing.[882] One must, of course, distinguish between a\n\u201cline\u201d and a \u201cverse\u201d. Lines there must be\u2014that is an affair of the scribe\nand the printer; verses are rhythmical units, and there is no rhythmical\nmass in Greek lyrics between the colon and the period. How then are we\nto arrange our periods, there being no verse-division? The most obvious\nway is to write each colon as a separate line. The difficulty is that we\nshall often be compelled to break words:\u2014\n\n    \u03b8\u03ac\u03c1\u03c3\u03bf\u03c2 \u03b5\u1f50\u03c0\u03b5\u03b9\u03b8\u1f72\u03c2 \u1f35\u03b6-\n    \u03b5\u03b9 \u03c6\u03c1\u03b5\u03bd\u1f78\u03c2 \u03c6\u03af\u03bb\u03bf\u03bd \u03b8\u03c1\u03cc\u03bd\u03bf\u03bd ...\n    \u03c8\u03b1\u03bc\u03bc\u03af\u03b1\u03c2 \u1f10\u03be \u1f00\u03ba\u03c4\u1fb6\u03c2 \u03b2\u03ad\u03b2-\n    \u03b7\u03ba\u03b5\u03bd....\n\nAnother method is to let each line run on until we reach a colon-ending\nwhich coincides with a word-ending. Here is no new rhythmical rule: it is\npurely a question of convenience for the eye. Next, shall we ever write\nlines of (say) two cola the first of which does close with a word-ending?\nIt is natural so to do when to the two cola in question there correspond\n(whether periodically or strophically) two cola which _must_ on this\nsystem fill one line only. For instance, in \u00c6sch., _Supplices_, 656, we\nshall write\u2014\n\n     \u2013   \u23d1  \u23d1 \u2013 \u23d1 \u23d7     \u2013\u23d1   \u23d1 \u2013     \u23d1 \u23d7   \u2013  \u23d1 \u23d1 \u2013 \u23d1  \u2013  \u23d1\u2013\n    \u03ba\u03b1\u03b9 \u03b3\u03b1\u03c1 \u03c5\u03c0\u03bf\u03c3\u03ba\u03b9\u03c9\u03bd \u2016 \u03bd\u03c5\u03bd \u03c3\u03c4\u03bf\u03bc\u03b1\u03c4\u03c9\u03bd \u03c0\u03bf\u03c4\u03b1\u03c3\u03b8\u2016\u03c9 \u03c6\u03b9\u03bb\u03bf\u03c4\u03b9\u03bc\u03bf\u03c2 \u03b5\u03c5\u03c7\u03b1 \u2016,\n\nthough the first colon ends at the end of \u1f51\u03c0\u03bf\u03c3\u03ba\u03af\u03c9\u03bd, because the\ncorresponding passage of the antistrophe runs\u2014\n\n     \u2013   \u23d1 \u23d1 \u2013   \u23d1   \u23d7   \u2013 \u23d1 \u23d1 \u2013   \u23d1 \u23d7     \u2013\u23d1  \u23d1 \u2013    \u23d1 \u2013   \u1dcb\n    \u03ba\u03b1\u03b9 \u03b3\u03b5\u03c1\u03b1\u03c1\u03bf\u03b9 \u03b4\u03b5 \u03c0\u03c1\u03b5\u03c3\u03b2\u2016\u03c5\u03c4\u03bf\u03b4\u03bf\u03ba\u03bf\u03b9 \u03b3\u03b5\u03bc\u03bf\u03bd\u03c4\u2016\u03c9\u03bd \u03b8\u03c5\u03bc\u03b5\u03bb\u03b1\u03b9 \u03c6\u03bb\u03b5\u03b3\u03bf\u03bd\u03c4\u03c9\u03bd \u2016,\n\nwhere the first colon ends inside a word. It is purely a matter of taste\nwhether we give a line to each colon, in which case the drawback is\nthe breaking of words, or continue our line till breaking of words is\nexcluded, the trouble about which method is the reader\u2019s difficulty in\nseeing where some of the cola begin.\n\nWe must now consider the most vital and difficult portion of our subject.\nHow are we to determine the cola? The colon is the very soul of the\nrhythm. The period is generally too long for the ear to receive it as one\nartistic impression. The foot is too short; moreover, the mere foot too\noften tends to play one false: irrational syllables and \u03c4\u03bf\u03bd\u03ae are against\nus. But the colon is neither too long nor too short. The colon-division\nserves the same purpose as non-commissioned officers in a regiment, or\nthe determination of watersheds in geography\u2014it gives a sense both of\ngrouping and of control.\n\nWhat precisely _is_ a colon? It is as much of a strophe as can be uttered\nwithout making a new start. It is the embodiment of rhythm, as the foot\nis the embodiment of metre. In other words, it is a series of feet\nbound into a rhythmical unity by the presence of one main ictus. Three\nquestions, then, arise. (i) What is an ictus? (ii) Which is the main\nictus of a series? (iii) Can we with certainty determine the beginning\nand end of a colon when we have identified the main ictus?\n\n(i) Ictus is stress-accent. The ictus of any single word is usually\nobvious. In the word \u201cmaritime\u201d it falls upon the first syllable, in\n\u201cdragoon\u201d upon the second, in \u201ccultivation\u201d upon the third. In \u03c0\u03ac\u03bd\u03c4\u03c9\u03bd,\n\u03bb\u03c5\u03c3\u03b1\u03bc\u03ad\u03bd\u03bf\u03b9\u03c2, and \u03ba\u03b1\u03c4\u03ac\u03c0\u03b1\u03c3\u03c4\u03bf\u03c2, it falls upon the first, second, and third\nrespectively. Greek metre is based upon quantity, but Greek rhythm\n(like all other rhythm) is based upon ictus. A strophe can, and must,\nbe scanned foot by foot on quantity alone; but when we go beyond the\nfoot-division to exhibit the structure of the whole, we must refer to\nictus and nothing but ictus\u2014for structure is an affair of cola, and the\ncolon is created by the main ictus.\n\n(ii) Among the many word-ictuses of a considerable passage, a few will\nbe found which are heavier than the rest. These are simply the ictuses\nof the most important words. Each of these prominent ictuses gathers\nthe neighbouring minor ictuses into a group round itself. We should\nbegin then by fixing some obvious example, one (that is) where the main\nictus is unmistakable, and on this basis attempt, by the help of the\ncorrespondences which we expect, to determine other main ictuses. The\nstrophe will thus gradually fall into cola. This leads us at once to our\nthird question.\n\n(iii) Can we with certainty determine the extent of each colon?\nUnfortunately no simple invariable rule can be given for the settlement\nof this vital point. But certain useful principles may be mentioned.\n\n(_a_) A well-trained ear is the chief guide. Intelligent and careful\nreading aloud of an English prose-passage will show this. Take first (the\nbest-known version of) a famous sentence of John Bright:\u2014\n\n    The Angel of Death is abroad in the land: you may almost hear\n    the beating of his wings.\n\nIt is plain that this falls into two rhythmical parts, though we shall\nnot expect them to correspond, since this is prose, not verse. If we\nset a dash for each syllable and mark the ictuses by one or more dots\naccording to their strength, we find this scheme:\u2014\n\n      \u205a     \u205d     \u205a     \u00b7\n    - - - - - - - - - - - \u2016\n        \u00b7   \u205a     \u205d     \u205a\n    - - - - - - - - - - - \u2016\n\n(It will be noticed that in this superb passage the two periods do, as it\nhappens, correspond in length.)\n\n    Who hath believed our report? And to whom is the arm of the\n    Lord revealed? (_Isaiah_ liii. 1).\n\n    \u00b7     \u205a     \u205d       \u00b7     \u205a     \u205d   \u205a\n    - - - - - - - \u2016 - - - - - - - - - - - \u2016\n\nSo with longer passages, where, however, we shall find at times that our\nvoice quite naturally makes a colon-ending in the midst of a grammatical\nsentence.\n\n    Therefore let us also, \u2016 seeing we are compassed about \u2016 with\n    so great a cloud of witnesses, \u2016 lay aside every weight, \u2016 and\n    the sin which doth so easily beset us, \u2016 and let us run with\n    patience \u2016 the race that is set before us \u2016 (_Hebrews_ xii. 1,\n    R.V.).\n\n    \u00b7     \u205a \u00b7\n    - - - - - -\n    \u00b7       \u205a     \u00b7\n    - - - - - - - -\n        \u00b7   \u205a   \u205d\n    - - - - - - - - -\n    \u00b7     \u205a     \u205d\n    - - - - - - -\n        \u205a       \u205d       \u205a\n    - - - - - - - - - - - -\n      \u00b7   \u205a   \u205d\n    - - - - - - -\n      \u205d     \u205a   \u00b7\n    - - - - - - - -\n\n(Observe how, in the last two cola, first the mounting and then the\ndeclining emphasis provide a splendid close.)\n\nLet us now attempt so to catch the rhythm of a passage from Sophocles\n(_Antigone_, 582 _sqq._) if set out as prose.\n\n    \u03b5\u1f50\u03b4\u03b1\u03af\u03bc\u03bf\u03bd\u03b5\u03c2 \u03bf\u1f37\u03c3\u03b9 \u03ba\u03b1\u03ba\u1ff6\u03bd \u1f04\u03b3\u03b5\u03c5\u03c3\u03c4\u03bf\u03c2 \u03b1\u1f30\u03ce\u03bd. \u03bf\u1f37\u03c2 \u03b3\u1f70\u03c1 \u1f02\u03bd \u03c3\u03b5\u03b9\u03c3\u03b8\u1fc7 \u03b8\u03b5\u03cc\u03b8\u03b5\u03bd\n    \u03b4\u03cc\u03bc\u03bf\u03c2, \u1f04\u03c4\u03b1\u03c2 \u03bf\u1f50\u03b4\u1f72\u03bd \u1f10\u03bb\u03bb\u03b5\u03af\u03c0\u03b5\u03b9, \u03b3\u03b5\u03bd\u03b5\u1fb6\u03c2 \u1f10\u03c0\u1f76 \u03c0\u03bb\u1fc6\u03b8\u03bf\u03c2 \u1f15\u03c1\u03c0\u03bf\u03bd\u00b7 \u1f45\u03bc\u03bf\u03b9\u03bf\u03bd\n    \u1f65\u03c3\u03c4\u03b5 \u03c0\u03bf\u03bd\u03c4\u03af\u03b1\u03b9\u03c2 \u03bf\u1f36\u03b4\u03bc\u03b1 \u03b4\u03c5\u03c3\u03c0\u03bd\u03cc\u03bf\u03b9\u03c2 \u1f45\u03c4\u03b1\u03bd \u03b8\u03c1\u1fc4\u03c3\u03c3\u03b1\u03b9\u03c3\u03b9\u03bd \u1f14\u03c1\u03b5\u03b2\u03bf\u03c2 \u1f55\u03c6\u03b1\u03bb\u03bf\u03bd\n    \u1f10\u03c0\u03b9\u03b4\u03c1\u03ac\u03bc\u1fc3 \u03c0\u03bd\u03bf\u03b1\u1fd6\u03c2, \u03ba\u03c5\u03bb\u03af\u03bd\u03b4\u03b5\u03b9 \u03b2\u03c5\u03c3\u03c3\u03cc\u03b8\u03b5\u03bd \u03ba\u03b5\u03bb\u03b1\u03b9\u03bd\u1f70\u03bd \u03b8\u1fd6\u03bd\u03b1, \u03ba\u03b1\u1f76 \u03b4\u03c5\u03c3\u03ac\u03bd\u03b5\u03bc\u03bf\u03b9\n    \u03c3\u03c4\u03cc\u03bd\u1ff3 \u03b2\u03c1\u03ad\u03bc\u03bf\u03c5\u03c3\u03b9\u03bd \u1f00\u03bd\u03c4\u03b9\u03c0\u03bb\u1fc6\u03b3\u03b5\u03c2 \u1f00\u03ba\u03c4\u03b1\u03af. \u1f00\u03c1\u03c7\u03b1\u1fd6\u03b1 \u03c4\u1f70 \u039b\u03b1\u03b2\u03b4\u03b1\u03ba\u03b9\u03b4\u1fb6\u03bd \u03bf\u1f34\u03ba\u03c9\u03bd\n    \u1f41\u03c1\u1ff6\u03bc\u03b1\u03b9 \u03c0\u03ae\u03bc\u03b1\u03c4\u03b1 \u03c6\u03b8\u03b9\u03c4\u1ff6\u03bd \u1f10\u03c0\u1f76 \u03c0\u03ae\u03bc\u03b1\u03c3\u03b9 \u03c0\u03af\u03c0\u03c4\u03bf\u03bd\u03c4\u2019, \u03bf\u1f50\u03b4\u2019 \u1f00\u03c0\u03b1\u03bb\u03bb\u03ac\u03c3\u03c3\u03b5\u03b9\n    \u03b3\u03b5\u03bd\u03b5\u1f70\u03bd \u03b3\u03ad\u03bd\u03bf\u03c2, \u1f00\u03bb\u03bb\u2019 \u1f10\u03c1\u03b5\u03af\u03c0\u03b5\u03b9 \u03b8\u03b5\u1ff6\u03bd \u03c4\u03b9\u03c2, \u03bf\u1f50\u03b4\u2019 \u1f14\u03c7\u03b5\u03b9 \u03bb\u03cd\u03c3\u03b9\u03bd. \u03bd\u1fe6\u03bd \u03b3\u1f70\u03c1\n    \u1f10\u03c3\u03c7\u03ac\u03c4\u03b1\u03c2 \u1f51\u03c0\u1f72\u03c1 \u1fe5\u03af\u03b6\u03b1\u03c2 \u1f43 \u03c4\u03ad\u03c4\u03b1\u03c4\u03bf \u03c6\u03ac\u03bf\u03c2 \u1f10\u03bd \u039f\u1f30\u03b4\u03af\u03c0\u03bf\u03c5 \u03b4\u03cc\u03bc\u03bf\u03b9\u03c2, \u03ba\u03b1\u03c4\u2019 \u03b1\u1f56 \u03bd\u03b9\u03bd\n    \u03c6\u03bf\u03b9\u03bd\u03af\u03b1 \u03b8\u03b5\u1ff6\u03bd \u03c4\u1ff6\u03bd \u03bd\u03b5\u03c1\u03c4\u03ad\u03c1\u03c9\u03bd \u1f00\u03bc\u1fb7 \u03ba\u03bf\u03bd\u03af\u03c2, \u03bb\u03cc\u03b3\u03bf\u03c5 \u03c4\u2019 \u1f04\u03bd\u03bf\u03b9\u03b1 \u03ba\u03b1\u1f76 \u03c6\u03c1\u03b5\u03bd\u1ff6\u03bd\n    \u1f18\u03c1\u03b9\u03bd\u03cd\u03c2.\n\nIf we first mark the quantities (ignoring, as we must at first, the\npossibility of \u23d7 and \u23d8) and go over the whole carefully, we soon find\nthat it falls into two corresponding portions: \u03b5\u1f50\u03b4\u03b1\u03af\u03bc\u03bf\u03bd\u03b5\u03c2 ... \u1f00\u03ba\u03c4\u03b1\u03af\nis the strophe, \u1f00\u03c1\u03c7\u03b1\u1fd6\u03b1 ... \u1f18\u03c1\u03b9\u03bd\u03cd\u03c2 the antistrophe. Next we look for\nrhythmical units. On the one hand, there is the great difficulty that,\nsince we must have both periodic and strophic equivalence, certain cola\nmay take in words not belonging to the same sense-groups or grammatical\nclauses. On the other hand, the fact that we have two great masses which\ncorrespond exactly will help us. First, then, we note that \u03b5\u1f50\u03b4\u03b1\u03af\u03bc\u03bf\u03bd\u03b5\u03c2\n... \u03b1\u1f30\u03ce\u03bd looks promising, and observing that this points to \u1f00\u03c1\u03c7\u03b1\u1fd6\u03b1 ...\n\u1f41\u03c1\u1ff6\u03bc\u03b1\u03b9 as a colon also, and that this is in itself likely, we mark off\nboth these groups. Conversely, at the end of the antistrophe, \u03bb\u03cc\u03b3\u03bf\u03c5 ...\n\u1f18\u03c1\u03b9\u03bd\u03cd\u03c2 attracts us, and this is supported by the naturalness of \u03c3\u03c4\u03cc\u03bd\u1ff3 ...\n\u1f00\u03ba\u03c4\u03b1\u03af at the end of the strophe. Working backwards, and seeing a pause in\nthe punctuation at precisely the same place in both halves, namely, after\n\u03c0\u03bd\u03bf\u03b1\u1fd6\u03c2 and \u03b4\u03cc\u03bc\u03bf\u03b9\u03c2, we assume that \u03ba\u03c5\u03bb\u03af\u03bd\u03b4\u03b5\u03b9 ... \u03b4\u03c5\u03c3\u03ac\u03bd\u03b5\u03bc\u03bf\u03b9 and \u03ba\u03b1\u03c4\u2019 \u03b1\u1f56 ...\n\u03ba\u03bf\u03bd\u03af\u03c2 are correspondent masses. But each is too long\u2014sixteen syllables\u2014to\nbe pronounced as a unit. We soon perceive that \u03ba\u03c5\u03bb\u03af\u03bd\u03b4\u03b5\u03b9 ... \u03ba\u03b5\u03bb\u03b1\u03b9\u03bd\u03ac\u03bd,\n\u03b8\u1fd6\u03bd\u03b1 ... \u03b4\u03c5\u03c3\u03ac\u03bd\u03b5\u03bc\u03bf\u03b9, \u03ba\u03b1\u03c4\u2019 \u03b1\u1f56 ... \u03c4\u1ff6\u03bd, \u03bd\u03b5\u03c1\u03c4\u03ad\u03c1\u03c9\u03bd ... \u03ba\u03bf\u03bd\u03af\u03c2, are all separate\ncola. Going backwards again, we find that \u1f10\u03c0\u03b9\u03b4\u03c1\u03ac\u03bc\u1fc3[883] \u03c0\u03bd\u03bf\u03b1\u1fd6\u03c2 and\n\u039f\u1f30\u03b4\u03af\u03c0\u03bf\u03c5 \u03b4\u03cc\u03bc\u03bf\u03b9\u03c2, \u1f55\u03c6\u03b1\u03bb\u03bf\u03bd ... \u03c0\u03bd\u03bf\u03b1\u1fd6\u03c2 and \u03c6\u03ac\u03bf\u03c2 ... \u03b4\u03cc\u03bc\u03bf\u03b9\u03c2, \u0398\u03c1\u1fc4\u03c3\u03c3\u03b1\u03b9\u03c3\u03b9\u03bd ...\n\u03c0\u03bd\u03bf\u03b1\u1fd6\u03c2 and \u1fe5\u03af\u03b6\u03b1\u03c2 ... \u03b4\u03cc\u03bc\u03bf\u03b9\u03c2, and indeed longer masses still, all give a\nmetrical correspondence. Which pair are we to select? \u03bf\u1f36\u03b4\u03bc\u03b1 ... \u03c0\u03bd\u03bf\u03b1\u1fd6\u03c2 (=\n\u03bd\u1fe6\u03bd ... \u03b4\u03cc\u03bc\u03bf\u03b9\u03c2) is too long; \u1f10\u03c0\u03b9\u03b4\u03c1\u03ac\u03bc\u1fc3 \u03c0\u03bd\u03bf\u03b1\u1fd6\u03c2 (= \u039f\u1f30\u03b4\u03af\u03c0\u03bf\u03c5 \u03b4\u03cc\u03bc\u03bf\u03b9\u03c2) is too\nshort. For we seek the longest unit which is convenient. We therefore\nmark off \u03bf\u1f36\u03b4\u03bc\u03b1 ... \u1f45\u03c4\u03b1\u03bd, \u03bd\u1fe6\u03bd ... \u1f51\u03c0\u03ad\u03c1, \u0398\u03c1\u1fc4\u03c3\u03c3\u03b1\u03b9\u03c3\u03b9\u03bd ... \u03c0\u03bd\u03bf\u03b1\u1fd6\u03c2, \u1fe5\u03af\u03b6\u03b1\u03c2 ...\n\u03b4\u03cc\u03bc\u03bf\u03b9\u03c2 as cola. The same method will give us \u1f45\u03bc\u03bf\u03b9\u03bf\u03bd ... \u03c0\u03bf\u03bd\u03c4\u03af\u03b1\u03b9\u03c2 and \u03b8\u03b5\u1ff6\u03bd\n... \u03bb\u03cd\u03c3\u03b9\u03bd. Then we find ourselves left with \u03bf\u1f37\u03c2 \u03b3\u03ac\u03c1 ... \u1f15\u03c1\u03c0\u03bf\u03bd and \u03c0\u03ae\u03bc\u03b1\u03c4\u03b1\n... \u1f10\u03c1\u03b5\u03af\u03c0\u03b5\u03b9, which we divide after \u1f04\u03c4\u03b1\u03c2 and \u03c0\u03af\u03c0\u03c4\u03bf\u03bd\u03c4\u2019.\n\nAt last we can set out the passage according to its structure. The\nstrophe runs thus:\u2014\n\n    \u02c3   \u2013  \u23d1 \u23d1     \u2013 \u23d1  \u23d1  \u2013  \u23d1  \u2013   \u23d1    \u23d7  \u2013\n    \u03b5\u03c5\u205d\u03b4\u03b1\u03b9\u03bc\u03bf\u03bd\u03b5\u03c2 | \u03bf\u03b9\u03c3\u03b9 \u03ba\u03b1\u03ba|\u03c9\u03bd \u03b1|\u03b3\u03b5\u03c5\u03c3\u03c4\u03bf\u03c2 | \u03b1\u03b9|\u03c9\u03bd\ua788\u2016\n\n    \u2013    \u23d1    \u2013   \u02c3    \u2013  \u23d1   \u2013   \u23d1 \u23d1    \u23d7  \u2013\n    \u03bf\u03b9\u03c2 \u03b3\u03b1\u03c1 | \u03b1\u03bd \u03c3\u03b5\u03b9\u03c3\u03b8|\u1fc3 \u03b8\u03b5\u03bf|\u03b8\u03b5\u03bd \u03b4\u03bf\u03bc\u03bf\u03c2 | \u03b1\u03c4|\u03b1\u03c2\ua788\u2016\n\n    \u2013  \u23d1    \u2013  \u02c3   \u2013   \u23d1 \u23d1 \u2013  \u23d1 \u23d1     \u2013 \u23d1    \u2013  \u23d1\n    \u03bf\u03c5\u03b4\u03b5\u03bd | \u03b5\u03bb\u03bb\u03b5\u03b9\u03c0|\u03b5\u03b9 \u03b3\u03b5\u03bd\u03b5|\u03b1\u03c2 \u03b5\u03c0\u03b9 | \u03c0\u03bb\u03b7\u03b8\u03bf\u03c2 | \u03b5\u03c1\u03c0\u03bf\u03bd \u2016\n\n    \u23d1  \u2013 \u23d1    \u2013  \u23d1    \u2013  \u23d1 \u2013\n    \u03bf\u205d\u03bc\u03bf\u03b9\u03bf\u03bd | \u03c9\u03c3\u03c4\u03b5 | \u03c0\u03bf\u03bd\u03c4\u03b9|\u03b1\u03b9\u03c2\ua788\u2016\n\n    \u2013   \u23d1    \u2013   \u23d1 \u2013   \u23d1  \u2013\n    \u03bf\u03b9\u03b4\u03bc\u03b1 | \u03b4\u03c5\u03c3\u03c0\u03bd\u03bf|\u03bf\u03b9\u03c2 \u03bf\u03c4|\u03b1\u03bd\ua788\u2016\n\n     \u02c3    \u2013  \u23d1    \u23d1 \u23d1 \u23d1    \u23d1 \u23d1 \u23d1    \u23d1 \u23d1 \u23d1   \u2013  \u23d1  \u2013\n    \u0398\u03c1\u03b7\u03c3\u03c3\u205d\u03b1\u03b9\u03c3\u03b9\u03bd | \u03b5\u03c1\u03b5\u03b2\u03bf\u03c2 | \u03c5\u03c6\u03b1\u03bb\u03bf\u03bd | \u03b5\u03c0\u03b9\u03b4\u03c1\u03b1\u03bc|\u1fc3 \u03c0\u03bd\u03bf|\u03b1\u03b9\u03c2\ua788\u2016\n\n     \u23d1  \u2013  \u02c3     \u2013  \u23d1  \u2013   \u23d1  \u2013  \u02c3\n    \u03ba\u03c5\u205d\u03bb\u03b9\u03bd\u03b4\u03b5\u03b9 | \u03b2\u03c5\u03c3\u03c3\u03bf|\u03b8\u03b5\u03bd \u03ba\u03b5\u03bb|\u03b1\u03b9\u03bd\u03b1\u03bd \u2016\n\n     \u2013 \u23d1    \u2013   \u23d1  \u2013 \u23d1  \u2013\n    \u03b8\u03b9\u03bd\u03b1 | \u03ba\u03b1\u03b9 \u03b4\u03c5\u03c3|\u03b1\u03bd\u03b5\u03bc|\u03bf\u03b9\ua788\u2016\n\n      \u23d1  \u2013   \u23d1  \u2013  \u23d1    \u2013  \u23d1   \u2013 \u23d1    \u23d7   \u2013\n    \u03c3\u03c4\u03bf\u03bd\u205d\u1ff3 \u03b2\u03c1\u03b5\u03bc|\u03bf\u03c5\u03c3\u03b9\u03bd | \u03b1\u03bd\u03c4\u03b9\u03c0\u03bb|\u03b7\u03b3\u03b5\u03c2 | \u03b1\u03ba\u03c4|\u03b1\u03b9\ua788\u2016\n\nThere are two periods:\u2014\n\n    I           II\n    \u239b 6      \u239b     6\n    \u239d 6      \u239c   \u23b0 4\n             \u239c \u239b \u23b1 4\n             \u239c \u239c   6\u2014mesode.\n             \u239c \u239c \u23b0 4\n             \u239c \u239d \u23b1 4\n             \u239d     6\n\nTo this the antistrophe of course corresponds, though here and there an\nirrational long corresponds to a short (e.g. -\u03b5\u1fd1\u03c0\u03b5\u0350\u03b9 to \u03b5\u0304\u03c1\u03c0\u03bf\u0306\u03bd); the\nlast syllable of \u03c0\u03ae\u03bc\u03b1\u03c4\u03b1 is lengthened by the following \u03c6\u03b8.\n\nIt should be noted that this scheme differs somewhat from that given\nin Jebb\u2019s edition of the _Antigone_ (pp. lxi. _sq._). One reader\u2019s ear\ndiffers from that of another: hence the frequent divergencies to be\nobserved between editors in the arrangement of many lyrics.\n\n(_b_) The ancient writer Aristoxenus gives certain rules as to the\nmaximum length of cola. They may be stated as follows:\u2014\n\n(i) There are three types of colon, the equal, the unequal, and the\nquinquepartite. The equal cola are the dipody of 1 + 1 feet, the\ntetrapody of 2 + 2; the unequal are the tripody of 2 + 1, and the\nhexapody of 4 + 2; the quinquepartite is the pentapody of 3 + 2.\n\n(ii) Equal cola must not be of greater length than sixteen \u201cshorts\u201d.\nTherefore we may have a dipody of any foot, and a tetrapody of any save\nthose of more than four shorts in value; that is (_e.g._) a dipody of\ncretics (\u2013\u23d1\u2013) is allowed, but not a tetrapody of that foot, which would\ngive 5 \u00d7 4 = 20 \u201cshorts\u201d.\n\n(iii) Unequal cola may have the length of eighteen \u201cshorts\u201d. A tripody,\ntherefore, of any foot is allowed, but a hexapody of trochees only: a\nhexapody of spondees would give 4 \u00d7 6 = 24 \u201cshorts\u201d.\n\n(iv) Quinquepartite cola may extend to the value of twenty-five \u201cshorts\u201d.\nPentapodies are therefore possible of trochees, dactyls, spondees and\nfive-time feet.\n\n(_c_) Certain detailed hints may be added:\u2014\n\n(i) The tetrapody is the most frequent length, the pentapody the rarest.\n\n(ii) The end of a colon is often indicated in dactyls by a spondee, in\ntrochees by a single long syllable (whether \u23d7 or \u2013\ua788).\n\n(iii) In any one period there is a tendency to conformity in length. If 6\n+ 5 + 4 and 6 + 6 + 4 are _prima facie_ equally possible, the latter is\nas a rule to be preferred. In spite of the difference in sum-total (6 +\n6 + 4 = 16; 6 + 5 + 4 = 15), this question often arises, because of the\npossibility of \u03c4\u03bf\u03bd\u03ae. It has to be decided[884] whether (_e.g._) \u03c0\u03b1\u03bd\u03c4\u03cc\u03c2 at\nthe close of a colon is to be scanned as two feet or one:\n\n    \u23d7  \u2013\n    \u03c0\u03b1\u03bd\u03c4|\u03bf\u03c2\ua788\u2016\n\nor\n\n      \u2013  \u23d1\n    | \u03c0\u03b1\u03bd\u03c4\u03bf\u03c2 \u2016.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nIt is now time to offer an account of the various feet used in lyrics.\n\n(_a_) _Trochees._\u2014With these we are now familiar. This foot is often\ncalled a choree, chorees with anacrusis being iambi,[885] without\nanacrusis trochees. The trochee is the most frequent foot in lyrics. Such\nsystems express ordinary strong interest. Whenever more definite emotion\nis to be conveyed, either cyclic dactyls are introduced, or a change is\nmade to some other metre:\u2014\n\n    \u039a\u03bf\u03bb\u03c7\u03af\u03b4\u03bf\u03c2 \u03c4\u03b5 \u03b3\u1fb6\u03c2 \u1f14\u03bd\u03bf\u03b9\u03ba\u03bf\u03b9\n    \u03c0\u03b1\u03c1\u03b8\u03ad\u03bd\u03bf\u03b9, \u03bc\u03ac\u03c7\u03b1\u03c2 \u1f04\u03c4\u03c1\u03b5\u03c3\u03c4\u03bf\u03b9 (_Prom. Vinctus_, 415).\n\n    \u2013\u23d1|\u2013\u23d1|\u2013\u23d1|\u2013\u23d1\u2016\n    \u2013\u23d1|\u2013\u23d1|\u2013\u23d1|\u2013\u23d1\u2016.\n\nSo in English:\u2014\n\n    Then, upon one knee uprising,\n    Hiawatha aimed an arrow.\u2014(Longfellow.)\n\nResolution into tribrachs is frequent:\u2014\n\n    \u23d1 \u23d1 \u23d1 \u2013    \u23d1  \u2013 \u23d1    \u2013  \u23d1\n    \u0391\u03c1\u03b1\u03b2\u03b9|\u03b1\u03c2 \u03c4 \u03b1\u03c1|\u03b5\u03b9\u03bf\u03bd | \u03b1\u03bd\u03b8\u03bf\u03c2 \u2016 (_Prom. Vinctus_, 420).\n\nAnacrusis is common.\n\n(_b_) _Dactyls._\u2014These are found pure, or mingled with spondees or\nquasi-trochees (\u23d7\u23d1). They are often employed to express excitement and\nawe:\u2014\n\n    \u1f66 \u0394\u03b9\u1f78\u03c2 \u1f01\u03b4\u03c5\u03b5\u03c0\u1f72\u03c2 \u03c6\u03ac\u03c4\u03b9, \u03c4\u03af\u03c2 \u03c0\u03bf\u03c4\u03b5 \u03c4\u1fb6\u03c2 \u03c0\u03bf\u03bb\u03c5\u03c7\u03c1\u03cd\u03c3\u03bf\u03c5[886]\n    \u03a0\u03c5\u03b8\u1ff6\u03bd\u03bf\u03c2 \u1f00\u03b3\u03bb\u03ac\u03b1\u03c2 \u1f14\u03b2\u03b1\u03c2; (_\u0152d. Tyr._, 151).\n\n    \u2013\u23d1\u23d1|\u2013\u23d1\u23d1|\u2013\u23d1\u23d1\u2016\u2013\u23d1\u23d1|\u2013\u23d1\u23d1|\u2013\u202f\u2013\u2016\n    \u2013\u205d\u23d7\u23d1|\u23d7\u23d1|\u23d7\u23d1|\u2013\ua788\u0304\u2016\n\nAnacrusis is found, as in the second line above and in _Medea_, 635:\u2014\n\n      \u2013   \u2013   \u23d1  \u23d1  \u2013  \u23d1 \u23d1  \u2013  \u2013  \u23d7 \u2013    \u2013  \u2013   \u23d7   \u23d1 \u2013\n    \u03c3\u03c4\u03b5\u03c1\u03b3\u205d\u03bf\u03b9 \u03b4\u03b5 \u03bc\u03b5|\u03c3\u03c9\u03c6\u03c1\u03bf\u03c3\u03c5\u03bd|\u03b1 \u03b4\u03c9\u03c1\u2016\u03b7\u03bc\u03b1 | \u03ba\u03b1\u03bb\u03bb\u03b9\u03c3\u03c4|\u03bf\u03bd \u03b8\u03b5|\u03c9\u03bd\ua788\u0304\u2016.\n\nThe tetrapody without spondees or catalexis gives an exquisite heaving\neffect in Soph. _Electra_, 147-9:\u2014\n\n    \u1f00\u03bb\u03bb\u2019 \u1f10\u03bc\u03ad \u03b3\u2019 \u1f01 \u03c3\u03c4\u03bf\u03bd\u03cc\u03b5\u03c3\u03c3\u2019 \u1f04\u03c1\u03b1\u03c1\u03b5\u03bd \u03c6\u03c1\u03ad\u03bd\u03b1\u03c2,\n    \u1f03 \u1f3c\u03c4\u03c5\u03bd \u03b1\u1f30\u1f72\u03bd \u1f3c\u03c4\u03c5\u03bd \u1f40\u03bb\u03bf\u03c6\u03cd\u03c1\u03b5\u03c4\u03b1\u03b9,\n    \u1f44\u03c1\u03bd\u03b9\u03c2 \u1f00\u03c4\u03c5\u03b6\u03bf\u03bc\u03ad\u03bd\u03b1, \u0394\u03b9\u1f78\u03c2 \u1f04\u03b3\u03b3\u03b5\u03bb\u03bf\u03c2.\n\nAriel\u2019s lines in _The Tempest_ (V. i.):\u2014\n\n    Merrily, merrily, shall I live now,\n    Under the blossom that hangs on the bough,\n\nare dactylic tetrapodies with catalexis.\n\n(_c_) _Spondees._\u2014It is not certain that these are used as a base, though\nas a variant in anap\u00e6stic and dactylic metre they are common. _Iph.\nTaur._, 123-5, may be taken as spondees:\u2014\n\n    \u03b5\u1f50\u03c6\u03b1\u03bc\u03b5\u1fd6\u03c4\u2019 \u1f66\n    \u03c0\u03cc\u03bd\u03c4\u03bf\u03c5 \u03b4\u03b9\u03c3\u03c3\u1f70\u03c2 \u03c3\u03c5\u03b3\u03c7\u03c9\u03c1\u03bf\u03cd\u03c3\u03b1\u03c2\n    \u03c0\u03ad\u03c4\u03c1\u03b1\u03c2 \u1f08\u03be\u03b5\u03af\u03bd\u03bf\u03c5 \u03bd\u03b1\u03af\u03bf\u03bd\u03c4\u03b5\u03c2.\n\n    \u2013\u202f\u2013|\u2013\u202f\u2013|\n    \u2013\u202f\u2013|\u2013\u202f\u2013|\u2013\u202f\u2013|\u2013\u202f\u2013|\n    \u2013\u202f\u2013|\u2013\u202f\u2013|\u2013\u202f\u2013|\u2013\u202f\u2013|\n\nBut they may be quasi-anap\u00e6sts, the whole passage which they introduce\nbeing an anap\u00e6stic entrance-march, though heavily spondaic. _Ion_, 125-7:\n\n    \u1f66 \u03a0\u03b1\u03b9\u03ac\u03bd, \u1f66 \u03a0\u03b1\u03b9\u03ac\u03bd,\n    \u03b5\u1f50\u03b1\u03af\u03c9\u03bd, \u03b5\u1f50\u03b1\u03af\u03c9\u03bd\n    \u03b5\u1f34\u03b7\u03c2, \u1f66 \u039b\u03b1\u03c4\u03bf\u1fe6\u03c2 \u03c0\u03b1\u1fd6,\n\nis scanned by Dr. J. H. H. Schmidt as molossi, a molossus being \u2013\u202f\u2013\u202f\u2013.\n\nSpondaic systems are scarcely to be found in English.[887]\n\n(_d_) _Cretics._\u2014This foot (\u2013\u23d1\u2013) is rare; it generally expresses piteous\nagitation:\u2014\n\n    \u03c6\u03c1\u03cc\u03bd\u03c4\u03b9\u03c3\u03bf\u03bd, \u03ba\u03b1\u1f76 \u03b3\u03b5\u03bd\u03bf\u1fe6 \u03c0\u03b1\u03bd\u03b4\u03af\u03ba\u03c9\u03c2\n    \u03b5\u1f50\u03c3\u03b5\u03b2\u1f74\u03c2 \u03c0\u03c1\u03cc\u03be\u03b5\u03bd\u03bf\u03c2\u00b7\n    \u03c4\u1f70\u03bd \u03c6\u03c5\u03b3\u03ac\u03b4\u03b1 \u03bc\u1f74 \u03c0\u03c1\u03bf\u03b4\u1ff7\u03c2,\n    \u03c4\u1f70\u03bd \u1f15\u03ba\u03b1\u03b8\u03b5\u03bd \u1f10\u03ba\u03b2\u03bf\u03bb\u03b1\u1fd6\u03c2\n    \u03b4\u03c5\u03c3\u03b8\u03ad\u03bf\u03b9\u03c2 \u1f40\u03c1\u03bc\u03ad\u03bd\u03b1\u03bd (\u00c6sch., _Supplices_, 418 _sqq._).\n\n    \u2013\u23d1\u2013|\u2013\u23d1\u2013|\u2013\u23d1\u2013\u2016\n    \u2013\u23d1\u2013|\u2013\u23d1\u2013\u2016\n    \u2013\u23d1\u23d1\u23d1|\u2013\u23d1\u2013\u2016\n    \u2013\u23d1\u23d1\u23d1|\u2013\u23d1\u2013\u2016\n    \u2013\u23d1\u2013|\u2013\u23d1\u2013\u2016\n\nFew cretics are found in English, though Tennyson\u2019s brief poem _The Oak_\nis written entirely in this metre, _e.g._:\u2014\n\n    All his leaves\n      Fall\u2019n at length,\n    Look, he stands,\n    Trunk and bough,\n      Naked strength.\n\nMost English verse of cretic appearance is shown by the context to be\ntrochaic with alternate \u03c4\u03bf\u03bd\u03ae. So in _A Midsummer Nights Dream_, II. i.:\u2014\n\n    Over hill, over dale,\n      Thorough bush, thorough brier,\n    Over park, over pale,\n      Thorough flood, thorough fire,\n\nwhich is followed by\n\n    I do | wander | every|where \ua788 |\n    Swifter | than the | moones | sphere \ua788 | etc.\n\nWe are forbidden to view the Greek cretics given above in the same\nway, by the resolved feet. If we scan \u03c6\u03c1\u03cc\u03bd\u03c4\u03b9\u03c3\u03bf\u03bd \u03ba\u03b1\u1f76 \u03b3\u03b5\u03bd\u03bf\u1fe6 \u03c0\u03b1\u03bd\u03b4\u03af\u03ba\u03c9\u03c2\nas \u2013\u23d1|\u23d7|\u2013\u23d1|\u23d7|\u2013\u23d1|\u2013\ua788\u2016, this method will give us in the fourth line\n\u2013\u23d1|\u23d1\u23d1|\u2013\u23d1|\u2013\u2016, where the second foot is impossible. \u23d1\u23d1 can take the place\nof \u2013, but never of \u23d7.\n\n(_e_) _Bacchiacs._\u2014This curious foot consists of \u2013\u202f\u2013\u23d1, the system being\ninvariably introduced by anacrusis. Bacchiacs are regularly associated\nwith dochmiacs (see below). They express strong emotion, generally\nmingled with perplexity or vacillation; resolved feet are therefore often\nfound:\u2014\n\n    \u03c4\u03af\u03c2 \u1f00\u03c7\u03ce, \u03c4\u03af\u03c2 \u1f40\u03b4\u03bc\u03ac\n    \u03c0\u03c1\u03bf\u03c3\u03ad\u03c0\u03c4\u03b1 \u03bc\u2019 \u1f00\u03c6\u03b5\u03b3\u03b3\u03ae\u03c2; (_Prom. Vinctus_, 115).\n\n    \u23d1\u205d\u2013\u202f\u2013\u23d1|\u2013\u202f\u2013\ua788\u2016\n    \u23d1\u205d\u2013\u202f\u2013\u23d1|\u2013\u202f\u2013\ua788\u2016.\n\n    \u03c3\u03c4\u03b5\u03bd\u03ac\u03b6\u03c9; \u03c4\u03af \u1fe5\u03ad\u03be\u03c9; \u03b3\u03b5\u03bb\u1ff6\u03bc\u03b1\u03b9 \u03c0\u03bf\u03bb\u03af\u03c4\u03b1\u03b9\u03c2.\n    \u1f14\u03c0\u03b1\u03b8\u03bf\u03bd \u1f66 \u03b4\u03cd\u03c3\u03bf\u03b9\u03c3\u03c4\u03b1 (_Eumenides_, 788 _sq._).\n\n    \u23d1\u205d\u2013\u202f\u2013\u23d1|\u2013\u202f\u2013\u23d1\u2016\u2013\u202f\u2013\u23d1|\u2013\u202f\u2013\ua788\u2016\n    \u23d1\u205d\u23d1\u23d1\u2013\u23d1|\u2013\u202f\u2013\ua788\u2016.\n\n    Ye storm-winds of Autumn!\n    Who rush by, who shake\n    The window, and ruffle\n    The gleam-lighted lake.\u2014(M. Arnold.)\n\n    \u23d1\u205d\u2013\u202f\u2013\u23d1|\u2013\u202f\u2013\ua788\u2016\n    \u23d1\u205d\u2013\u202f\u2013\u23d1|\u2013\u23d7\u032d\u2016\n    \u23d1\u205d\u2013\u202f\u2013\u23d1|\u2013\u202f\u2013\ua788\u2016\n    \u23d1\u205d\u2013\u202f\u2013\u23d1|\u2013\u23d7\u032d\u2016.\n\nBut it should be noted that, though bacchiac scansion seems soundest for\nthe above\u2014\u201cstorm-winds\u201d for instance has two ictuses\u2014the poet probably\nmeant the lines for dactylic dipodies with anacrusis: \u201cstorm-winds of\u201d\nthus would be an accentual dactyl. But that would slur \u201cwinds\u201d unduly.\n\n(_f_) _Ionics._\u2014These are formed by \u2013\u202f\u2013\u23d1\u23d1. When anacrusis is found\u2014the\nusual form\u2014the foot is often called _Ionicus a minore_ (_i.e._ \u23d1\u23d1\u2013\u202f\u2013);\notherwise it is called _Ionicus a maiore_:\u2014\n\n    \u03ba\u03c5\u03b1\u03bd\u03bf\u1fe6\u03bd \u03b4\u2019 \u1f44\u03bc\u03bc\u03b1\u03c3\u03b9 \u03bb\u03b5\u03cd\u03c3\u03c3\u03c9\u03bd \u03c6\u03bf\u03bd\u03af\u03bf\u03c5 \u03b4\u03ad\u03c1\u03b3\u03bc\u03b1 \u03b4\u03c1\u03ac\u03ba\u03bf\u03bd\u03c4\u03bf\u03c2\n    \u03c0\u03bf\u03bb\u03cd\u03c7\u03b5\u03b9\u03c1 \u03ba\u03b1\u1f76 \u03c0\u03bf\u03bb\u03c5\u03bd\u03b1\u03cd\u03c4\u03b1\u03c2 \u03a3\u03cd\u03c1\u03b9\u03cc\u03bd \u03b8\u2019 \u1f05\u03c1\u03bc\u03b1 \u03b4\u03b9\u03ce\u03ba\u03c9\u03bd (_Pers\u00e6_, 81 _sq._).\n\n    \u23d1\u23d1\u205d\u2013\u202f\u2013\u23d1\u23d1|\u2013\u202f\u2013\u23d1\u23d1\u2016\u2013\u202f\u2013\u23d1\u23d1|\u2013\u202f\u2013\ua788\u0304\u2016.\n\nA strange variant is \u23d1\u2013\u23d1\u2013; the variation is called \u201canaclasis\u201d\n(\u201cbreaking-up\u201d). Thus the above passage proceeds\u2014\n\n    \u1f10\u03c0\u03ac\u03b3\u03b5\u03b9 \u03b4\u03bf\u03c5\u03c1\u03b9\u03ba\u03bb\u03cd\u03c4\u03bf\u03b9\u03c2 \u1f00\u03bd\u03b4\u03c1\u03ac\u03c3\u03b9 \u03c4\u03bf\u03be\u03cc\u03b4\u03b1\u03bc\u03bd\u03bf\u03bd \u1f0c\u03c1\u03b7.\n\n    \u23d1\u23d1\u205d\u2013\u202f\u2013\u23d1\u23d1|\u2013\u202f\u2013\u23d1\u23d1\u2016\u2013\u23d1\u2013\u23d1|\u2013\ua788\u0304\u2016.\n\nIonics are employed to express strong excitement governed by confident\ncourage. The first lyric of the _Pers\u00e6_ begins with a splendid example.\nIt is sung by the Persian counsellors in expectation of Xerxes\u2019 triumph,\nand makes a strong contrast with the piteous rhythms of the close. This\npoem should be studied carefully in comparison with another in the same\nmetre\u2014the opening of the first chorus in the _Bacch\u00e6_ (vv. 64 _sqq._):\u2014\n\n      \u1f08\u03c3\u03af\u03b1\u03c2 \u1f00\u03c0\u1f78 \u03b3\u03b1\u03af\u03b1\u03c2\n    \u1f31\u03b5\u03c1\u1f78\u03bd \u03a4\u03bc\u1ff6\u03bb\u03bf\u03bd \u1f00\u03bc\u03b5\u03af\u03c8\u03b1\u03c3\u03b1 \u03b8\u03bf\u03ac\u03b6\u03c9\n    \u0392\u03c1\u03bf\u03bc\u03af\u1ff3 \u03c0\u03cc\u03bd\u03bf\u03bd \u1f21\u03b4\u03cd\u03bd\n      \u03ba\u03ac\u03bc\u03b1\u03c4\u03cc\u03bd \u03c4\u2019 \u03b5\u1f50\u03ba\u03ac\u03bc\u03b1\u03c4\u03bf\u03bd, \u0392\u03ac\u03ba\u03c7\u03b9\u03bf\u03bd \u03b5\u1f50\u03b1\u03b6\u03bf\u03bc\u03ad\u03bd\u03b1.\n      \u03c4\u03af\u03c2 \u1f41\u03b4\u1ff7; \u03c4\u03af\u03c2 \u1f41\u03b4\u1ff7; \u03c4\u03af\u03c2 \u03bc\u03b5\u03bb\u03ac\u03b8\u03c1\u03bf\u03b9\u03c2; \u1f14\u03ba\u03c4\u03bf\u03c0\u03bf\u03c2 \u1f14\u03c3\u03c4\u03c9,\n    \u03c3\u03c4\u03cc\u03bc\u03b1 \u03c4\u2019 \u03b5\u1f54\u03c6\u03b7\u03bc\u03bf\u03bd \u1f05\u03c0\u03b1\u03c2 \u1f10\u03be\u03bf\u03c3\u03b9\u03bf\u03cd\u03c3\u03b8\u03c9\u00b7\n    \u03c4\u1f70 \u03bd\u03bf\u03bc\u03b9\u03c3\u03b8\u03ad\u03bd\u03c4\u03b1 \u03b3\u1f70\u03c1 \u1f00\u03b5\u1f76 \u0394\u03b9\u03cc\u03bd\u03c5\u03c3\u03bf\u03bd \u1f51\u03bc\u03bd\u03ae\u03c3\u03c9.\n\n    \u23d1\u23d1\u205d\u23d8\u23d1\u23d1|\u2013\u202f\u2013\ua788\u0304\u2016\n    \u23d1\u23d1\u205d\u2013\u202f\u2013\u23d1\u23d1|\u2013\u202f\u2013\u23d1\u23d1|\u2013\u202f\u2013\ua788\u0304\u2016\n    \u23d1\u23d1\u205d\u23d8\u23d1\u23d1|\u2013\u202f\u2013\ua788\u0304\u301b\n    \u23d1\u23d1\u205d\u2013\u202f\u2013\u23d1\u23d1|\u2013\u202f\u2013\u23d1\u23d1|\u2013\u202f\u2013\u23d1\u23d1|\u23d8\ua788\u0304\u301b\n    \u23d1\u23d1\u205d\u23d8\u23d1\u23d1|\u2013\u202f\u2013\u23d1\u23d1|\u2013\u202f\u2013\u23d1\u23d1|\u2013\u202f\u2013\ua788\u0304\u2016\n    \u23d1\u23d1\u205d\u2013\u202f\u2013\u23d1\u23d1|\u2013\u202f\u2013\u23d1\u23d1|\u2013\u202f\u2013\ua788\u0304\u2016\n    \u23d1\u23d1\u205d\u2013\u202f\u2013\u23d1\u23d1|\u2013\u202f\u2013\u23d1\u23d1|\u2013\u23d1\u2013\u02c3|\u23d8\ua788\u0304\u301b\n\n    I\n\n    \u239b 2\n    \u239c 3\u2014mesode.\n    \u239d 2\n\n    II\n\n    \u239b 2\n    \u239d 2\n\n    III\n\n      \u23b0 2\n    \u239b \u23b1 2\n    \u239c   3\u2014mesode\n    \u239d \u23b0 2\n      \u23b1 2\n\nThis song of the Bacchantes, like that of the Persians, expresses both\nexcitement and confidence; both are magnificent, and the _metre_ is the\nsame. But the difference is unmistakable; it lies in the _rhythm_. In\n\u00c6schylus the practically unvaried rhythm and the gorgeous language give\nto such a passage as \u03c0\u03bf\u03bb\u03cd\u03c7\u03b5\u03b9\u03c1 \u03ba\u03b1\u1f76 \u03c0\u03bf\u03bb\u03c5\u03bd\u03b1\u03cd\u03c4\u03b1\u03c2 \u03a3\u03cd\u03c1\u03b9\u03cc\u03bd \u03b8\u2019 \u1f05\u03c1\u03bc\u03b1 \u03b4\u03b9\u03ce\u03ba\u03c9\u03bd an\nalmost intolerable weight and austere pomp. Euripides, by use of the\ndoubly-lengthened syllable, by varying the extent of his cola, and by\nthe irrationality of the penultimate foot, has, within the limits of the\nsame metre, produced a sense of exotic beauty and urgency, a thrill of\nwildness as well as of awe.\n\n(_g_) _Choriambics._\u2014These consist of \u2013\u23d1\u23d1\u2013. Anacrusis is not found:\u2014\n\n    \u03b4\u03b5\u03b9\u03bd\u1f70 \u03bc\u1f72\u03bd \u03bf\u1f56\u03bd, \u03b4\u03b5\u03b9\u03bd\u1f70 \u03c4\u03b1\u03c1\u03ac\u03c3\u03c3\u03b5\u03b9 \u03c3\u03bf\u03c6\u1f78\u03c2 \u03bf\u1f30\u03c9\u03bd\u03bf\u03b8\u03ad\u03c4\u03b1\u03c2\n    \u03bf\u1f54\u03c4\u03b5 \u03b4\u03bf\u03ba\u03bf\u1fe6\u03bd\u03c4\u2019 \u03bf\u1f54\u03c4\u2019 \u1f00\u03c0\u03bf\u03c6\u03ac\u03c3\u03ba\u03bf\u03bd\u03b8\u2019\u00b7 \u1f45\u03c4\u03b9 \u03bb\u03ad\u03be\u03c9 \u03b4\u2019 \u1f00\u03c0\u03bf\u03c1\u1ff6 (_\u0152d. Tyr._,\n                                                        483 _sq._).\n\n    \u2013\u23d1\u23d1\u2013|\u2013\u23d1\u23d1\u2013\u2016\u2013\u23d1\u23d1\u2013|\u2013\u23d1\u23d1\u2013\u2016\n    \u2013\u23d1\u23d1\u2013|\u2013\u23d1\u23d1\u2013\u2016\u2013\u23d1\u23d1\u2013|\u2013\u23d1\u23d1\u2013\u2016\n\nThis measure expresses great agitation and perplexity. In the passage\njust cited they pass into ionics, which indicate a gradual comparative\ncalming of mind. For example, the antistrophe reads:\u2014\n\n    \u1f00\u03bb\u03bb\u2019 \u1f41 \u03bc\u1f72\u03bd \u03bf\u1f56\u03bd \u0396\u03b5\u1f7a\u03c2 \u1f45 \u03c4\u2019 \u1f08\u03c0\u03cc\u03bb\u03bb\u03c9\u03bd \u03c3\u03c5\u03bd\u03b5\u03c4\u03bf\u1f76 \u03ba\u03b1\u1f76 \u03c4\u1f70 \u03b2\u03c1\u03bf\u03c4\u1ff6\u03bd\n    \u03b5\u1f30\u03b4\u03cc\u03c4\u03b5\u03c2\u00b7 \u1f00\u03bd\u03b4\u03c1\u1ff6\u03bd \u03b4\u2019 \u1f45\u03c4\u03b9 \u03bc\u03ac\u03bd\u03c4\u03b9\u03c2 \u03c0\u03bb\u03ad\u03bf\u03bd \u1f22 \u2019\u03b3\u03c9 \u03c6\u03ad\u03c1\u03b5\u03c4\u03b1\u03b9\n    \u03ba\u03c1\u03af\u03c3\u03b9\u03c2 \u03bf\u1f50\u03ba \u1f14\u03c3\u03c4\u03b9\u03bd \u1f00\u03bb\u03b7\u03b8\u03ae\u03c2\u00b7 \u03c3\u03bf\u03c6\u03af\u1fb3 \u03b4\u2019 \u1f02\u03bd \u03c3\u03bf\u03c6\u03af\u03b1\u03bd\n    \u03c0\u03b1\u03c1\u03b1\u03bc\u03b5\u03af\u03c8\u03b5\u03b9\u03b5\u03bd \u1f00\u03bd\u03ae\u03c1.\n\n       \u2013\u23d1\u23d1\u2013|\u2013\u23d1\u23d1\u2013\u2016\u2013\u23d1\u23d1\u2013|\u2013\u23d1\u23d1\u2013\u2016\n       \u2013\u23d1\u23d1\u2013|\u2013\u23d1\u23d1\u2013\u2016\u2013\u23d1\u23d1\u2013|\u2013\u23d1\u23d1\u2013\u2016\n    \u23d1\u23d1\u205d\u2013\u202f\u2013\u23d1\u23d1|\u2013\u202f\u2013\u23d1\u23d1\u2016\u2013\u202f\u2013\u23d1\u23d1|\u23d8\ua788\u0304\u2016\n    \u23d1\u23d1\u205d\u2013\u202f\u2013\u23d1\u23d1|\u23d8\ua788\u0304\u2016.\n\nThe late Rupert Brooke left some exquisite _Experiments_ in this metre,\n_e.g._:\u2014\n\n    Ah! Not now, when desire burns, and the wind calls, and the suns of\n      spring\n    Light-foot dance in the woods, whisper of life, woo me to wayfaring.\n\nThat is\u2014\n\n    \u23d7\u23d7|\u2013\u23d1\u23d1\u2013|\u2013\u23d1\u23d1\u2013\u2016\u2013\u23d1\u23d1\u2013|\u23d7\u23d7\u2016\n\n(_h_) _Dochmiacs._\u2014It is convenient to discuss these here, though the\ndochmius is not a foot, but a colon. The rule both of metre and music\nis that all feet or bars should have the same time-value; a trochaic\ncolon may contain \u23d7 or  \u1dcb\u23d1 as well as \u2013\u23d1, but not \u2013\u23d1\u23d1. Dochmiacs are\ngenerally regarded as an exception to this rule. The dochmius is a colon\nof which the simplest form[888] is \u23d1\u2013\u202f\u2013\u23d1\u2013, to be divided \u23d1\u205d\u2013\u202f\u2013\u23d1|\u2013\ua788||,\n_e.g._ \u03ba\u03b1\u03ba\u03bf\u03c1\u03c1\u03b7\u03bc\u03cc\u03bd\u03c9\u03bd. The dochmius is always catalectic, but the anacrusis\nof one serves to complete the trochee of the preceding colon:\u2014\n\n    \u03c6\u03b1\u03bd\u03ae\u03c4\u03c9 \u03bc\u03cc\u03c1\u03c9\u03bd \u1f41 \u03ba\u03ac\u03bb\u03bb\u03b9\u03c3\u03c4\u2019 \u1f10\u03bc\u1ff6\u03bd\n    \u1f10\u03bc\u03bf\u1f76 \u03c4\u03b5\u03c1\u03bc\u03af\u03b1\u03bd \u1f04\u03b3\u03c9\u03bd \u1f01\u03bc\u03ad\u03c1\u03b1\u03bd (_Antigone_, 1329 _sq._).\n\n    \u23d1\u205d\u2013\u202f\u2013\u23d1|\u2013\u23d1\u2016\u2013\u202f\u2013\u23d1|\u2013\ua788\u2016.\n\nBut this simplest form is not the most frequent, and a considerable\nsequence is rare. Resolution of one or more long syllables is very\ncommon. The favourite form is \u23d1\u205d\u23d1\u23d1\u2013\u23d1|\u2013\ua788\u2016:\u2014\n\n    \u03c0\u03b5\u03c1\u03af\u03b2\u03b1\u03bb\u03bf\u03bd \u03b3\u03ac\u03c1 \u03bf\u1f31 \u03c0\u03c4\u03b5\u03c1\u03bf\u03c6\u03cc\u03c1\u03bf\u03bd \u03b4\u03ad\u03bc\u03b1\u03c2 (_Agamemnon_, 1147).\n\n    \u23d1\u205d\u23d1\u23d1\u2013\u23d1|\u2013\u23d1\u2016\u23d1\u23d1\u2013\u23d1|\u2013\ua788\u2016\n\nThis metre is frequent in passages of lamentation, and as these are\nextremely numerous the dochmiac measure is one of the most important.\nIt is also perhaps the most difficult, because of the many varieties\nadmitted. In all, twenty-two[889] forms are said to be found, though\nseveral of these are rare; this great number is due to resolution and\nirrational long syllables. Thus\u2014\n\n    \u1f30\u1f7c \u03c3\u03ba\u03cc\u03c4\u03bf\u03c5\n    \u03bd\u03ad\u03c6\u03bf\u03c2 \u1f10\u03bc\u1f78\u03bd \u1f00\u03c0\u03cc\u03c4\u03c1\u03bf\u03c0\u03bf\u03bd, \u1f10\u03c0\u03b9\u03c0\u03bb\u03cc\u03bc\u03b5\u03bd\u03bf\u03bd \u1f04\u03c6\u03b1\u03c4\u03bf\u03bd\n    \u1f00\u03b4\u03ac\u03bc\u03b1\u03c4\u03cc\u03bd \u03c4\u03b5 \u03ba\u03b1\u1f76 \u03b4\u03c5\u03c3\u03bf\u03cd\u03c1\u03b9\u03c3\u03c4\u03bf\u03bd \u1f44\u03bd (_\u0152d. Tyr._, 1313).\n\n    \u23d1\u205d\u23d8\u23d1|\u2013\ua788\u2016\n    \u23d1\u205d\u23d1\u23d1\u23d1\u23d1\u23d1|\u23d1\u23d1\u23d1\u2016\u23d1\u23d1\u23d1\u23d1\u23d1|\u23d1\u23d1\ua788\u2016\n    \u23d1\u205d\u23d1\u23d1\u2013\u23d1|\u2013\u23d1\u2016\u2013\u202f\u2013\u23d1|\u2013\ua788\u2016.\n\nThe second line of course would by itself have no rhythm at all, being\nso completely broken to pieces, in order to express the extreme limit of\nagitation possible in articulate speech. But it gains rhythm from the\nclearer lines of the context. The antistrophe shows a further variety\u2014an\nirrational syllable in the last line:\u2014\n\n    \u1f30\u1f7c \u03c6\u03af\u03bb\u03bf\u03c2,\n    \u03c3\u1f7a \u03bc\u1f72\u03bd \u1f10\u03bc\u1f78\u03c2 \u1f10\u03c0\u03af\u03c0\u03bf\u03bb\u03bf\u03c2 \u1f14\u03c4\u03b9 \u03bc\u03cc\u03bd\u03b9\u03bc\u03bf\u03c2\u00b7 \u1f14\u03c4\u03b9 \u03b3\u03ac\u03c1\n    \u1f51\u03c0\u03bf\u03bc\u03ad\u03bd\u03b5\u03b9\u03c2 \u03bc\u03b5 \u03c4\u1f78\u03bd \u03c4\u03c5\u03c6\u03bb\u1f78\u03bd \u03ba\u03b7\u03b4\u03b5\u03cd\u03c9\u03bd.\n\n(\u03ba\u03b7\u03b4\u03b5\u03c5\u0350\u03c9\u03bd). Evidently it is important to accustom one\u2019s ear thoroughly to\nthe basic form \u23d1\u2013\u202f\u2013\u23d1\u2013 and to \u23d1\u23d1\u23d1\u2013\u23d1\u2013. Another instance may be of use:\u2014\n\n    \u1f06\u03c1\u03b1 \u03c0\u03cd\u03bb\u03b1\u03b9 \u03ba\u03bb\u1fc4\u03b8\u03c1\u03bf\u03b9\u03c2 \u03c7\u03b1\u03bb\u03ba\u03cc\u03b4\u03b5\u03c4\u2019 \u1f14\u03bc\u03b2\u03bf\u03bb\u03ac \u03c4\u03b5\n    \u03bb\u03b1\u03ca\u03bd\u03ad\u03bf\u03b9\u03c3\u03b9\u03bd \u1f08\u03bc\u03c6\u03af\u03bf\u03bd\u03bf\u03c2 \u1f40\u03c1\u03b3\u03ac\u03bd\u03bf\u03b9\u03c2\n    \u03c4\u03b5\u03af\u03c7\u03b5\u03bf\u03c2 \u1f25\u03c1\u03bc\u03bf\u03c3\u03c4\u03b1\u03b9; (_Ph\u0153niss\u00e6_, 114 _sqq._).\n\n    \u02c3\u205d\u23d1\u23d1\u2013\u02c3|\u2013\u02c3\u2016\u23d1\u23d1\u2013\u23d1|\u23d1\u23d1\ua788\u2016\n    \u23d1\u205d\u23d1\u23d1\u2013\u23d1|\u2013\u02c3\u2016\u23d1\u23d1\u2013\u23d1|\u2013\ua788\u2016\n    \u02c5\u205d\u23d1\u23d1\u2013\u02c3|\u2013\ua788\u2016.\n\nThe last division of our subject is the different types of period, the\nvarious ways in which cola are combined and correspond. It should be\nnoted that a colon with anacrusis can correspond to one without; so of\ncatalexis and \u03c4\u03bf\u03bd\u03ae.\n\n(i) The simplest form is the _stichic_ (\u03c3\u03c4\u03af\u03c7\u03bf\u03c2 \u201ca row\u201d), in which the\ncola are of the same length. The scheme\n\n       \u23a7 _a_          \u23a7 2    \u23a7 4    \u23a7 6          \u23a7 _a_\n    is \u23a8     \u2014that is \u23a8   or \u23a8   or \u23a8  , etc.\u2014or \u23a8 _a_ and so forth:\n       \u23a9 _a_          \u23a9 2    \u23a9 4    \u23a9 6          \u23a9 _a_\n\n    \u03c0\u1fb6\u03c2 \u03b3\u1f70\u03c1 \u1f31\u03c0\u03c0\u03b7\u03bb\u03ac\u03c4\u03b1\u03c2\n    \u03ba\u03b1\u1f76 \u03c0\u03b5\u03b4\u03bf\u03c3\u03c4\u03b9\u03b2\u1f74\u03c2 \u03bb\u03b5\u03ce\u03c2 (_Pers\u00e6_, 126 _sq._).\n\n    \u2013\u23d1|\u23d7|\u2013\u23d1|\u2013\ua788\u2016\n    \u2013\u23d1|\u2013\u23d1|\u2013\u23d1|\u2013\ua788\u301b.\n\nWhere correspondence is indicated by\n\n    \u239b 4\n    \u239d 4.\n\nIt makes no difference that \u23d7 is answered by \u2013\u23d1 in the second foot.\n\n(ii) To the stichic corresponds the _palinodic_ period (\u03c0\u03b1\u03bb\u03b9\u03bd\u1ff3\u03b4\u03af\u03b1,\n\u201crepetition\u201d), in which not a single colon but a group of cola is\nrepeated so far as length is concerned:\u2014\n\n    \u03bc\u03b5\u03af\u03be\u03bf\u03c5\u03c3\u03b9\u03bd \u1f22 \u03c0\u03c1\u1f78\u03c2 \u03a0\u03c5\u03b8\u03af\u03b1\u03b9\u03c2 \u1f22 \u03bb\u03b1\u03bc\u03c0\u03ac\u03c3\u03b9\u03bd \u1f00\u03ba\u03c4\u03b1\u1fd6\u03c2,\n    \u03bf\u1f57 \u03c0\u03cc\u03c4\u03bd\u03b9\u03b1\u03b9 \u03c3\u03b5\u03bc\u03bd\u1f70 \u03c4\u03b9\u03b8\u03b7\u03bd\u03bf\u1fe6\u03bd\u03c4\u03b1\u03b9 \u03c4\u03ad\u03bb\u03b7 (_\u0152d. Col._, 1047 _sq._).\n\n    \u2013\u205d\u23d7\u23d1|\u2013\u202f\u2013|\u23d7\u23d1|\u2013\u202f\u2013\u2016\u2013\u23d1\u23d1|\u2013\u202f\u2013\u2016\n    \u2013\u205d\u23d7\u23d1|\u23d8|\u2013\u23d1\u23d1|\u2013\u202f\u2013\u2016\u23d7\u23d1|\u2013\ua788\u0304\u2016\n\n      \u23b0 4 \u239e\n    \u239b \u23b1 2 \u239f \u239e\n    \u239d \u23b0 4 \u23a0 \u239f\n      \u23b1 2   \u23a0\n\nThis type of period is frequent in English poetry, where the use of rhyme\nand the absence of \u03c4\u03bf\u03bd\u03ae make the cola perfectly plain, _e.g._:\u2014\n\n    Love still has something of the sea\n      From whence his Mother rose;\n    No time his slaves from care sets free,\n      Or gives their hearts repose.\u2014(Sedley.)\n\n      \u23b0 4 \u239e\n    \u239b \u23b1 3 \u239f \u239e\n    \u239d \u23b0 4 \u23a0 \u239f\n      \u23b1 3   \u23a0\n\n(iii) _Antithetic_ periods are formed by the inverted repetition whether\nof different cola or of different groups of cola.\n\n(_a_) The simplest type is that in which a series of ungrouped cola is\nrepeated in inverse order:\u2014\n\n    \u03b4\u03b9\u03b1\u03bd\u03c4\u03b1\u03af\u03b1\u03bd \u03bb\u03ad\u03b3\u03b5\u03b9\u03c2 \u03b4\u03cc\u03bc\u03bf\u03b9\u03c3\u03b9 \u03ba\u03b1\u03af\n    \u03c3\u03ce\u03bc\u03b1\u03c3\u03b9\u03bd \u03c0\u03b5\u03c0\u03bb\u03b1\u03b3\u03bc\u03ad\u03bd\u03b1\u03bd\n    \u1f00\u03bd\u03b1\u03c5\u03b4\u03ac\u03c4\u1ff3 \u03bc\u03ad\u03bd\u03b5\u03b9\n    \u1f00\u03c1\u03b1\u03af\u1ff3 \u03c4\u2019 \u1f10\u03ba \u03c0\u03b1\u03c4\u03c1\u1f78\u03c2 \u03b4\u03b9\u03c7\u03cc\u03c6\u03c1\u03bf\u03bd\u03b9 \u03c0\u03cc\u03c4\u03bc\u1ff3 (_Septem_, 895 _sqq._).\n\n    \u23d1\u205d\u23d7|\u23d7|\u2013\u23d1|\u2013\u23d1|\u2013\u23d1|\u2013\ua788\u2016\n      \u2013\u23d1|\u2013\u23d1|\u2013\u23d1|\u2013\ua788\u2016\n    \u23d1\u205d\u23d7|\u23d7|\u2013\u23d1|\u2013\ua788\u2016\n    \u23d1\u205d\u23d7|\u23d7|\u2013\u23d1|\u2013\u23d1|\u2013\u23d1\u23d1|\u2013\u02c3\u301b.\n\n    6   \u239e\n    4 \u239e \u239f\n    4 \u23a0 \u239f\n    6   \u23a0\n\n(_b_) In a similar manner groups may be repeated antithetically.\nEach group retains its internal order; hence such periods are called\n\u201cpalinodic-antithetic\u201d:\u2014\n\n    \u03b4\u03b9\u2019 \u03b1\u1f30\u1ff6\u03bd\u03bf\u03c2 \u03bc\u03b1\u03ba\u03c1\u03bf\u1fe6 \u03c0\u03ac\u03bd\u03bf\u03bb\u03b2\u03bf\u03bd\u00b7\n    \u1f14\u03bd\u03b8\u03b5\u03bd \u03c0\u1fb6\u03c3\u03b1 \u03b2\u03bf\u1fb7 \u03c7\u03b8\u03ce\u03bd,\n    \u201c\u03c6\u03c5\u03c3\u03b9\u03b6\u03cc\u03bf\u03c5 \u03b3\u03ad\u03bd\u03bf\u03c2 \u03c4\u03cc\u03b4\u03b5 \u0396\u03b7\u03bd\u03cc\u03c2 \u1f10\u03c3\u03c4\u03b9\u03bd \u1f00\u03bb\u03b7\u03b8\u1ff6\u03c2\u00b7\n    \u03c4\u03af\u03c2 \u03b3\u1f70\u03c1 \u1f02\u03bd \u03ba\u03b1\u03c4\u03ad\u03c0\u03b1\u03c5\u03c3\u03b5\u03bd \u1f2d\u03c1\u03b1\u03c2 \u03bd\u03cc\u03c3\u03bf\u03c5\u03c2 \u1f10\u03c0\u03b9\u03b2\u03bf\u03cd\u03bb\u03bf\u03c5\u03c2;\u201d\n    \u0394\u03b9\u1f78\u03c2 \u03c4\u03cc\u03b4\u2019 \u1f14\u03c1\u03b3\u03bf\u03bd \u03ba\u03b1\u1f76 \u03c4\u03cc\u03b4\u2019 \u1f02\u03bd \u03b3\u03ad\u03bd\u03bf\u03c2 \u03bb\u03ad\u03b3\u03c9\u03bd\n    \u1f10\u03be \u1f18\u03c0\u03ac\u03c6\u03bf\u03c5 \u03ba\u03c5\u03c1\u03ae\u03c3\u03b1\u03b9\u03c2 (\u00c6sch., _Supplices_, 582 _sqq._).\n\n    \u23d1\u205d\u23d7|\u23d7|\u2013\u23d1|\u2013\u23d1|\u23d7|\u2013\ua788\u2016\n      \u2013\u02c3|\u2013\u23d1\u23d1|\u23d7|\u2013\ua788\u2016\n    \u23d1\u205d\u2013\u23d1|\u2013\u23d1|\u2013\u23d1|\u23d7\u2016\u2013\u23d1|\u2013\u23d1\u23d1|\u23d7|\u2013\ua788\u2016\n      \u2013\u23d1|\u2013\u23d1\u23d1|\u2013\u23d1|\u23d7\u2016\u2013\u23d1|\u2013\u23d1\u23d1|\u23d7|\u2013\ua788\u2016\n    \u23d1\u205d\u2013\u23d1|\u2013\u02c3|\u2013\u23d1|\u2013\u23d1|\u2013\u23d1|\u2013\ua788\u2016\n      \u2013\u23d1\u23d1|\u2013\u23d1|\u23d7|\u2013\ua788\u301b.\n\n        \u23b0 6     \u239e\n    \u239b   \u23b1 4     \u239f \u239e\n    \u239c   \u23b0 4 \u239e   \u239f \u239f\n    \u239c \u239b \u23b1 4 \u239f \u239e \u239f \u239f\n    \u239c \u239d \u23b0 4 \u23a0 \u239f \u239f \u239f\n    \u239c   \u23b1 4   \u23a0 \u239f \u239f\n    \u239d   \u23b0 6     \u23a0 \u239f\n        \u23b1 4       \u23a0\n\n(iv) Any of the three periods just described, the stichic, the palinodic,\nthe antithetic (whether simple or palinodic-antithetic) may be \u201cmesodic,\u201d\nthat is, it may be grouped round a central colon (the mesode), to which\nno colon corresponds, save of course the mesode of the other _strophe_.\nThe schemes, then, are:\u2014\n\n(_a_) Stichic-mesodic.\n\n    _a_ \u239e\n    _x_ \u239f\n    _a_ \u23a0\n\n(_b_) Palinodic-mesodic.\n\n      \u23b0 _a_ \u239e\n    \u239b \u23b1 _b_ \u239f \u239e\n    \u239c   _x_ \u239f \u239f\n    \u239d \u23b0 _a_ \u23a0 \u239f\n      \u23b1 _b_   \u23a0\n\n(_c_) Antithetic-mesodic.\n\n    _a_   \u239e\n    _b_ \u239e \u239f\n    _x_ \u239f \u239f\n    _b_ \u23a0 \u239f\n    _a_   \u23a0\n\n(_d_) Palinodic-antithetic-mesodic.\n\n        \u23b0 _a_     \u239e\n    \u239b   \u23b1 _b_     \u239f \u239e\n    \u239c   \u23b0 _c_ \u239e   \u239f \u239f\n    \u239c \u239b \u23b1 _d_ \u239f \u239e \u239f \u239f\n    \u239c \u239c   _x_ \u239f \u239f \u239f \u239f\n    \u239c \u239d \u23b0 _c_ \u23a0 \u239f \u239f \u239f\n    \u239c   \u23b1 _d_   \u23a0 \u239f \u239f\n    \u239d   \u23b0 _a_     \u23a0 \u239f\n        \u23b1 _b_       \u23a0\n\n(_a_) The stichic-mesodic:\u2014\n\n    \u1f00\u03bc\u03b7\u03c7\u03b1\u03bd\u1ff6 \u03c6\u03c1\u03bf\u03bd\u03c4\u03af\u03b4\u03bf\u03c2 \u03c3\u03c4\u03b5\u03c1\u03b7\u03b8\u03b5\u03af\u03c2\n    \u03b5\u1f50\u03c0\u03ac\u03bb\u03b1\u03bc\u03bf\u03bd \u03bc\u03ad\u03c1\u03b9\u03bc\u03bd\u03b1\u03bd\n    \u1f45\u03c0\u03b1 \u03c4\u03c1\u03ac\u03c0\u03c9\u03bc\u03b1\u03b9, \u03c0\u03af\u03c4\u03bd\u03bf\u03bd\u03c4\u03bf\u03c2 \u03bf\u1f34\u03ba\u03bf\u03c5 (_Agamemnon_, 1530 _sqq._).\n\n    \u23d1\u205d\u2013\u23d1|\u23d7|\u2013\u23d1|\u2013\u23d1|\u23d7|\u2013\ua788\u2016\n      \u2013\u23d1\u23d1|\u2013\u23d1|\u23d7|\u2013\ua788\u2016\n    \u23d1\u205d\u2013\u23d1|\u23d7|\u2013\u23d1|\u2013\u23d1|\u23d7|\u2013\ua788\u2016.\n\n    6 \u239e\n    4 \u239f\n    6 \u23a0\n\n(_b_) The palinodic-mesodic:\u2014\n\n      \u1f10\u03bc\u03bf\u1f76 \u03c7\u03c1\u1fc6\u03bd \u03c3\u03c5\u03bc\u03c6\u03bf\u03c1\u03ac\u03bd,\n    \u1f10\u03bc\u03bf\u1f76 \u03c7\u03c1\u1fc6\u03bd \u03c0\u03b7\u03bc\u03bf\u03bd\u1f70\u03bd \u03b3\u03b5\u03bd\u03ad\u03c3\u03b8\u03b1\u03b9,\n    \u1f38\u03b4\u03b1\u03af\u03b1\u03bd \u1f45\u03c4\u03b5 \u03c0\u03c1\u1ff6\u03c4\u03bf\u03bd \u1f55\u03bb\u03b1\u03bd\n    \u1f08\u03bb\u03ad\u03be\u03b1\u03bd\u03b4\u03c1\u03bf\u03c2 \u03b5\u1f30\u03bb\u03b1\u03c4\u03af\u03bd\u03b1\u03bd\n    \u1f10\u03c4\u03ac\u03bc\u03b5\u03b8\u2019, \u1f05\u03bb\u03b9\u03bf\u03bd \u1f10\u03c0\u2019 \u03bf\u1f36\u03b4\u03bc\u03b1 \u03bd\u03b1\u03c5\u03c3\u03c4\u03bf\u03bb\u03ae\u03c3\u03c9\u03bd (_Hecuba_, 629 _sqq._).\n\n    \u23d1\u205d\u23d7|\u23d7|\u2013\u23d1|\u2013\ua788\u2016\n    \u23d1\u205d\u23d7|\u23d7|\u2013\u23d1|\u2013\u23d1|\u23d7|\u2013\ua788\u2016\n      \u2013\u02c3|\u2013\u23d1\u23d1|\u2013\u23d1|\u2013\u02c3\u2016\n    \u23d1\u205d\u23d7|\u2013\u23d1|\u2013\u23d1\u23d1|\u2013\ua788\u2016\n    \u23d1\u205d\u23d1\u23d1\u23d1|\u23d1\u23d1\u23d1|\u2013\u23d1|\u2013\u23d1|\u23d7|\u2013\ua788\u2016.\n\n      \u23b0 4   \u239e\n    \u239b \u23b1 6 \u239e \u239f\n    \u239c   4 \u239f \u239f\n    \u239d \u23b0 4 \u239f \u23a0\n      \u23b1 6 \u23a0\n\n(_c_) The antithetic-mesodic:\u2014\n\n    \u03c3\u03cd \u03c4\u03bf\u03b9 \u03c3\u03cd \u03c4\u03bf\u03b9 \u03ba\u03b1\u03c4\u03b7\u03be\u03af\u03c9\u03c3\u03b1\u03c2,\n    \u1f66 \u03b2\u03b1\u03c1\u03cd\u03c0\u03bf\u03c4\u03bc\u03b5, \u03ba\u03bf\u1f50\u03ba\n    \u1f04\u03bb\u03bb\u03bf\u03b8\u03b5\u03bd \u1f14\u03c7\u03b5\u03b9 \u03c4\u03cd\u03c7\u1fb3\n    \u03c4\u1fb6\u03b4\u2019 \u1f00\u03c0\u1f78 \u03bc\u03b5\u03af\u03b6\u03bf\u03bd\u03bf\u03c2\u00b7\n    \u03b5\u1f56\u03c4\u03ad \u03b3\u03b5 \u03c0\u03b1\u03c1\u1f78\u03bd \u03c6\u03c1\u03bf\u03bd\u1fc6\u03c3\u03b1\u03b9 ... (_Philoctetes_, 1095 _sqq._).\n\n    \u23d1\u205d\u2013\u23d1|\u2013\u23d1|\u2013\u23d1|\u2013\u23d1\u2016\n      \u2013\u23d1|\u23d1\u23d1\u23d1|\u2013\ua788\u2016\n    \u02c3\u205d\u23d1\u23d1\u23d1|\u2013\u23d1|\u2013\ua788\u2016\n      \u2013\u23d1\u23d1|\u2013\u23d1|\u2013\ua788\u2016\n    \u02c3\u205d\u23d1\u23d1\u23d1|\u2013\u23d1|\u23d7|\u2013\ua788\u2016.\n\n    4   \u239e\n    3 \u239e \u239f\n    3 \u239f \u239f\n    3 \u23a0 \u239f\n    4   \u23a0\n\n(_d_) The palinodic-antithetic-mesodic:\u2014\n\n      \u03bc\u03ae \u03bc\u03bf\u03b9 \u03bc\u1f74 \u03c0\u03c1\u03bf\u03b4\u03af\u03b4\u03bf\u03c5\u00b7\n    \u03bc\u03cc\u03bd\u03bf\u03c2 \u03bc\u03cc\u03bd\u1ff3 \u03ba\u03cc\u03bc\u03b9\u03b6\u03b5 \u03c0\u03bf\u03c1\u03b8\u03bc\u03af\u03b4\u03bf\u03c2 \u03c3\u03ba\u03ac\u03c6\u03bf\u03c2.\n    \u03c7\u03b1\u03b9\u03c1\u03ad\u03c4\u03c9 \u03bc\u1f72\u03bd \u03b1\u1f56\u03bb\u03b9\u03c2 \u1f25\u03b4\u03b5, \u03c7\u03b1\u03b9\u03c1\u03ad\u03c4\u03c9 \u03b4\u1f72 \u03b8\u03c5\u03bc\u03ac\u03c4\u03c9\u03bd\n    \u1f00\u03c0\u03bf\u03b2\u03ce\u03bc\u03b9\u03bf\u03c2[890] \u1f03\u03bd \u1f14\u03c7\u03b5\u03b9 \u03b8\u03c5\u03c3\u03af\u03b1\u03bd\n    \u039a\u03cd\u03ba\u03bb\u03c9\u03c8 \u0391\u1f30\u03c4\u03bd\u03b1\u1fd6\u03bf\u03c2 \u03be\u03b5\u03bd\u03b9\u03ba\u1ff6\u03bd \u03ba\u03c1\u03ad\u03c9\u03bd \u03ba\u03b5\u03c7\u03b1\u03c1\u03bc\u03ad\u03bd\u03bf\u03c2 \u03b2\u03bf\u03c1\u1fb7.\n    \u03bd\u03b7\u03bb\u03ae\u03c2, \u1f66 \u03c4\u03bb\u1fb6\u03bc\u03bf\u03bd\n    \u1f45\u03c3\u03c4\u03b9\u03c2 \u03b4\u03c9\u03bc\u03ac\u03c4\u03c9\u03bd \u1f10\u03c6\u03b5\u03c3\u03c4\u03af\u03bf\u03c5\u03c2 ... (_Cyclops_, 351 _sqq._).[891]\n\n      \u2013\u02c3|\u2013\u23d1\u23d1|\u2013\ua788\u2016\n    \u23d1\u205d\u2013\u23d1|\u2013\u23d1|\u2013\u23d1|\u2013\u23d1|\u2013\u23d1|\u2013\ua788\u2016\n      \u2013\u23d1|\u2013\u23d1|\u2013\u23d1|\u2013\u23d1\u2016\u2013\u23d1|\u2013\u23d1|\u2013\u23d1|\u2013\ua788\u2016\n    \u03c9\u205d\u2013\u23d1\u23d1|\u2013\u23d1|\u2013\u23d1\u23d1|\u2013\ua788\u2016\n      \u2013\u02c3|\u2013\u02c3|\u2013\u23d1\u23d1|\u2013\u23d1\u2016\u2013\u23d1|\u2013\u23d1|\u2013\u23d1|\u2013\ua788\u2016\n      \u2013\u02c3|\u2013\u02c3|\u2013\ua788\u2016\n      \u23d7|\u23d7|\u2013\u23d1|\u2013\u23d1|\u2013\u23d1|\u2013\ua788\u301b.\n\n        \u23b0 3     \u239e\n    \u239b   \u23b1 6     \u239f \u239e\n    \u239c \u239b \u23b0 4 \u239e   \u239f \u239f\n    \u239c \u239c \u23b1 4 \u239f \u239e \u239f \u239f\n    \u239c \u239c   4 \u239f \u239f \u239f \u239f\n    \u239c \u239c \u23b0 4 \u23a0 \u239f \u239f \u239f\n    \u239c \u239d \u23b1 4   \u23a0 \u239f \u239f\n    \u239c   \u23b0 3     \u23a0 \u239f\n    \u239d   \u23b1 6       \u23a0\n\nMost of the periodic structures which have been described are by no means\nobvious to the ear. A trained sense of rhythm, attention to quantity,\nand careful practice, will reduce the difficulties. But in any case\nGreek periods are far less easy to grasp than English. Their variety\nand length, the frequent occurrence of prolongation, resolution, and\nirrational syllables, the possibility of preludes or postludes\u2014all these\nare formidable to modern students, who lack the help of the music. We may\nperhaps work out the period with ease on paper, but our ear often cannot\nappreciate the balance and contour of the whole as it can in English\nlyrics, where we have the immense assistance of a rhyme-scheme. But it\nis no sound deduction that the study of Greek lyric metre and rhythm is\ntherefore useless. We cannot always hear the period\u2014that is a question of\nmusic; but we can always hear the colon\u2014that is a question of language.\nTo utter the cola correctly is easy after a little practice; and it is\nthese \u201csentences\u201d which, by their own internal rhythmical nature and by\nthe identities or contrasts existing between them, reinforce and more\npungently articulate the sense of the words wherefrom they are moulded.\n\n\n\n\nFOOTNOTES\n\n\n[1] See Haigh, _The Tragic Drama of the Greeks_, pp. 19 _sq._\n\n[2] It arose in a similar fashion to tragedy, from the phallic songs to\nDionysus at his winter festival.\n\n[3] \u03c4\u03af \u03c4\u03b1\u1fe6\u03c4\u03b1 \u03c0\u03c1\u1f78\u03c2 \u03c4\u1f78\u03bd \u0394\u03b9\u03cc\u03bd\u03c5\u03c3\u03bf\u03bd; (Plutarch, _Symposiaca_, 615 A).\n\n[4] Pp. 39-41.\n\n[5] These first paragraphs give a summary of the view almost universally\nheld as to the origin of Greek tragedy. Of late, however, Professor Sir\nWilliam Ridgeway (_The Origin of Tragedy, with Special Reference to\nthe Greek Tragedians_, Cambridge, 1910) has combated current beliefs\nwith great vigour. His belief is (p. 186) \u201cthat Tragedy arose in the\nworship of the dead, and that the only Dionysiac element in the Drama\nwas the satyric play\u201d. Aristotle\u2019s evidence (see p. 4) he dismisses as\nmistaken, because \u201cAristotle was only interested in Tragedy as a fully\ndeveloped art, and paid little heed to its early history\u201d (p. 57). The\npresent writer is bound to confess that, after following and estimating\nto the best of his ability the numerous and heterogeneous statements put\nforward in evidence, he cannot regard Professor Ridgeway\u2019s contention\nas proved. It is undoubtedly true that many extant tragedies centre\nmore or less vitally upon a tomb, but many do not. The mimetic ritual\nin honour of the slain Scephrus (p. 37) is real evidence, so far as it\ngoes; but the utmost it proves is that Greek tragedy _could_ have arisen\nfrom such funeral performances\u2014it does not show that it did. The most\nremarkable point in the book is the discussion of the well-known passage\nin Herodotus (V, 67): \u03c4\u03ac \u03c4\u03b5 \u03b4\u1f74 \u1f04\u03bb\u03bb\u03b1 \u03bf\u1f31 \u03a3\u03b9\u03ba\u03c5\u03ce\u03bd\u03b9\u03bf\u03b9 \u1f10\u03c4\u03af\u03bc\u03c9\u03bd \u03c4\u1f78\u03bd \u1f0c\u03b4\u03c1\u03b7\u03c3\u03c4\u03bf\u03bd \u03ba\u03b1\u1f76\n\u03b4\u1f74 \u03c0\u03c1\u1f78\u03c2 \u03c4\u1f70 \u03c0\u03ac\u03b8\u03b5\u03b1 \u03b1\u1f50\u03c4\u03bf\u1fe6 \u03c4\u03c1\u03b1\u03b3\u03b9\u03ba\u03bf\u1fd6\u03c3\u03b9 \u03c7\u03bf\u03c1\u03bf\u1fd6\u03c3\u03b9 \u1f10\u03b3\u03ad\u03c1\u03b1\u03b9\u03c1\u03bf\u03bd, \u03c4\u1f78\u03bd \u03bc\u1f74\u03bd \u0394\u03b9\u03cc\u03bd\u03c5\u03c3\u03bf\u03bd \u03bf\u1f50\n\u03c4\u03b9\u03bc\u03ad\u03c9\u03bd\u03c4\u03b5\u03c2, \u03c4\u1f78\u03bd \u03b4\u1f72 \u1f0c\u03b4\u03c1\u03b7\u03c3\u03c4\u03bf\u03bd. \u039a\u03bb\u03b5\u03b9\u03c3\u03b8\u03ad\u03bd\u03b7\u03c2 \u03b4\u1f72 \u03c7\u03bf\u03c1\u03bf\u1f7a\u03c2 \u03bc\u1f72\u03bd \u03c4\u1ff7 \u0394\u03b9\u03bf\u03bd\u03cd\u03c3\u1ff3 \u1f00\u03c0\u03ad\u03b4\u03c9\u03ba\u03b5,\n\u03c4\u1f74\u03bd \u03b4\u1f72 \u1f04\u03bb\u03bb\u03b7\u03bd \u03b8\u03c5\u03c3\u03af\u03b7\u03bd \u039c\u03b5\u03bb\u03b1\u03bd\u03af\u03c0\u03c0\u1ff3 (see Ridgeway, p. 28): \u201cThe men of Sicyon\npaid honours to Adrastus, and in particular they revered him with tragic\nchoruses because of his sufferings, herein honouring not Dionysus, but\nAdrastus. Cleisthenes gave the choruses to Dionysus, and the rest of the\noffering to Melanippus.\u201d It may well be that Professor Ridgeway is right\nin asserting that \u1f00\u03c0\u03ad\u03b4\u03c9\u03ba\u03b5 means not \u201crestored\u201d but \u201cgave\u201d\u2014that is, these\ntragic choruses were originally of the funereal kind which he suggests\nfor all primitive Greek tragedy. This is excellent evidence for his\ncontention, so far as it goes, but it only proves one example. Herodotus\u2019\nwords, on the other hand, imply that he believed tragedy to be normally\nDionysiac. To sum up, we cannot regard Professor Ridgeway as having\nsucceeded in damaging the traditional view.\n\n[6] Aristotle, _Poetic_, 1448_a_: \u03b4\u03b9\u1f78 \u03ba\u03b1\u1f76 \u1f00\u03bd\u03c4\u03b9\u03c0\u03bf\u03b9\u03bf\u1fe6\u03bd\u03c4\u03b1\u03b9 \u03c4\u1fc6\u03c2 \u03c4\u03b5 \u03c4\u03c1\u03b1\u03b3\u1ff3\u03b4\u03af\u03b1\u03c2\n\u03ba\u03b1\u1f76 \u03c4\u1fc6\u03c2 \u03ba\u03c9\u03bc\u1ff3\u03b4\u03af\u03b1\u03c2 \u03bf\u1f31 \u0394\u03c9\u03c1\u03b9\u03b5\u1fd6\u03c2.\n\n[7] _Ol._, XIII, 18 _sq._: \u03c4\u03b1\u1f76 \u0394\u03b9\u03c9\u03bd\u03cd\u03c3\u03bf\u03c5 \u03c0\u03cc\u03b8\u03b5\u03bd \u1f10\u03be\u03ad\u03c6\u03b1\u03bd\u03b5\u03bd \u03c3\u1f7a\u03bd \u03b2\u03bf\u03b7\u03bb\u03ac\u03c4\u1fb3\n\u03c7\u03ac\u03c1\u03b9\u03c4\u03b5\u03c2 \u03b4\u03b9\u03b8\u03c5\u03c1\u03ac\u03bc\u03b2\u1ff3; _i.e._ as the context shows, the dithyramb appeared\nfirst at Corinth.\n\n[8] \u03b1 for \u03b7, and sometimes -\u1fb6\u03bd as the inflexion of the feminine genitive\nplural.\n\n[9] _Poetic_, 1449_a_: \u03b3\u03b5\u03bd\u03bf\u03bc\u03ad\u03bd\u03b7 \u03b4\u2019 \u03bf\u1f56\u03bd \u1f00\u03c0\u2019 \u1f00\u03c1\u03c7\u1fc6\u03c2 \u03b1\u1f50\u03c4\u03bf\u03c3\u03c7\u03b5\u03b4\u03b9\u03b1\u03c3\u03c4\u03b9\u03ba\u03ae ... \u1f00\u03c0\u1f78\n\u03c4\u1ff6\u03bd \u1f10\u03be\u03b1\u03c1\u03c7\u03cc\u03bd\u03c4\u03c9\u03bd \u03c4\u1f78\u03bd \u03b4\u03b9\u03b8\u03cd\u03c1\u03b1\u03bc\u03b2\u03bf\u03bd ... \u03ba\u03b1\u03c4\u1f70 \u03bc\u03b9\u03ba\u03c1\u1f78\u03bd \u03b7\u1f50\u03be\u03ae\u03b8\u03b7 \u03c0\u03c1\u03bf\u03b1\u03b3\u03cc\u03bd\u03c4\u03c9\u03bd \u1f45\u03c3\u03bf\u03bd\n\u1f10\u03b3\u03af\u03b3\u03bd\u03b5\u03c4\u03bf \u03c6\u03b1\u03bd\u03b5\u03c1\u1f78\u03bd \u03b1\u1f50\u03c4\u1fc6\u03c2, \u03ba\u03b1\u1f76 \u03c0\u03bf\u03bb\u03bb\u1f70\u03c2 \u03bc\u03b5\u03c4\u03b1\u03b2\u03bf\u03bb\u1f70\u03c2 \u03bc\u03b5\u03c4\u03b1\u03b2\u03b1\u03bb\u03bf\u1fe6\u03c3\u03b1 \u1f21 \u03c4\u03c1\u03b1\u03b3\u1ff3\u03b4\u03af\u03b1\n\u1f10\u03c0\u03b1\u03cd\u03c3\u03b1\u03c4\u03bf, \u1f10\u03c0\u03b5\u1f76 \u1f14\u03c3\u03c7\u03b5 \u03c4\u1f74\u03bd \u03b1\u1f50\u03c4\u1fc6\u03c2 \u03c6\u03cd\u03c3\u03b9\u03bd. \u03ba\u03b1\u1f76 \u03c4\u03cc \u03c4\u03b5 \u03c4\u1ff6\u03bd \u1f51\u03c0\u03bf\u03ba\u03c1\u03b9\u03c4\u1ff6\u03bd \u03c0\u03bb\u1fc6\u03b8\u03bf\u03c2 \u1f10\u03be\n\u1f11\u03bd\u1f78\u03c2 \u03b5\u1f30\u03c2 \u03b4\u03cd\u03bf \u03c0\u03c1\u1ff6\u03c4\u03bf\u03c2 \u0391\u1f30\u03c3\u03c7\u03cd\u03bb\u03bf\u03c2 \u1f24\u03b3\u03b1\u03b3\u03b5 \u03ba\u03b1\u1f76 \u03c4\u1f70 \u03c4\u03bf\u1fe6 \u03c7\u03bf\u03c1\u03bf\u1fe6 \u1f20\u03bb\u03ac\u03c4\u03c4\u03c9\u03c3\u03b5 \u03ba\u03b1\u1f76 \u03c4\u1f78\u03bd\n\u03bb\u03cc\u03b3\u03bf\u03bd \u03c0\u03c1\u03c9\u03c4\u03b1\u03b3\u03c9\u03bd\u03b9\u03c3\u03c4\u1f74\u03bd \u03c0\u03b1\u03c1\u03b5\u03c3\u03ba\u03b5\u03cd\u03b1\u03c3\u03b5\u03bd, \u03c4\u03c1\u03b5\u1fd6\u03c2 \u03b4\u1f72 \u03ba\u03b1\u1f76 \u03c3\u03ba\u03b7\u03bd\u03bf\u03b3\u03c1\u03b1\u03c6\u03af\u03b1\u03bd \u03a3\u03bf\u03c6\u03bf\u03ba\u03bb\u1fc6\u03c2.\n\u1f14\u03c4\u03b9 \u03b4\u1f72 \u03c4\u1f70 \u03bc\u03ad\u03b3\u03b5\u03b8\u03bf\u03c2 \u1f10\u03ba \u03bc\u03b9\u03ba\u03c1\u1ff6\u03bd \u03bc\u03cd\u03b8\u03c9\u03bd \u03ba\u03b1\u1f76 \u03bb\u03ad\u03be\u03b5\u03c9\u03c2 \u03b3\u03b5\u03bb\u03bf\u03af\u03b1\u03c2 \u03b4\u03b9\u1f70 \u03c4\u1f78 \u1f10\u03ba \u03c3\u03b1\u03c4\u03c5\u03c1\u03b9\u03ba\u03bf\u1fe6\n\u03bc\u03b5\u03c4\u03b1\u03b2\u03b1\u03bb\u03b5\u1fd6\u03bd \u1f40\u03c8\u1f72 \u1f00\u03c0\u03b5\u03c3\u03b5\u03bc\u03bd\u03cd\u03bd\u03b8\u03b7. \u03c4\u03cc \u03c4\u03b5 \u03bc\u03ad\u03c4\u03c1\u03bf\u03bd \u1f10\u03ba \u03c4\u03b5\u03c4\u03c1\u03b1\u03bc\u03ad\u03c4\u03c1\u03bf\u03c5 \u1f30\u03b1\u03bc\u03b2\u03b5\u1fd6\u03bf\u03bd \u1f10\u03b3\u03ad\u03bd\u03b5\u03c4\u03bf\u00b7\n\u03c4\u1f78 \u03bc\u1f72\u03bd \u03b3\u1f70\u03c1 \u03c0\u03c1\u1ff6\u03c4\u03bf\u03bd \u03c4\u03b5\u03c4\u03c1\u03b1\u03bc\u03ad\u03c4\u03c1\u1ff3 \u1f10\u03c7\u03c1\u1ff6\u03bd\u03c4\u03bf \u03b4\u03b9\u1f70 \u03c4\u1f78 \u03c3\u03b1\u03c4\u03c5\u03c1\u03b9\u03ba\u1f74\u03bd \u03ba\u03b1\u1f76 \u1f40\u03c1\u03c7\u03b7\u03c3\u03c4\u03b9\u03ba\u03c9\u03c4\u03ad\u03c1\u03b1\u03bd\n\u03b5\u1f36\u03bd\u03b1\u03b9 \u03c4\u1f74\u03bd \u03c0\u03bf\u03af\u03b7\u03c3\u03b9\u03bd ... \u1f14\u03c4\u03b9 \u03b4\u1f72 \u1f10\u03c0\u03b5\u03b9\u03c3\u03bf\u03b4\u03af\u03c9\u03bd \u03c0\u03bb\u03ae\u03b8\u03b7. \u03ba\u03b1\u1f76 \u03c4\u1f70 \u1f04\u03bb\u03bb\u2019 \u1f61\u03c2 \u1f15\u03ba\u03b1\u03c3\u03c4\u03b1\n\u03ba\u03bf\u03c3\u03bc\u03b7\u03b8\u1fc6\u03bd\u03b1\u03b9 \u03bb\u03ad\u03b3\u03b5\u03c4\u03b1\u03b9.... Here and elsewhere, in quoting from the _Poetic_,\nI borrow Butcher\u2019s admirable translation.\n\n[10] These narratives and conversations were naturally regarded as\ninterruptions in the main business, and this feeling is marked by the\nname always given to the \u201cacts\u201d of a play, \u1f10\u03c0\u03b5\u03b9\u03c3\u03cc\u03b4\u03b9\u03b1 (\u201cepisodia\u201d), _i.e._\n\u201cinterventions\u201d or \u201cinterruptions\u201d.\n\n[11] The text of the treatise is, however, incomplete. The author of the\npseudo-Platonic _Minos_ (321 A) speaks of the current belief that Thespis\nwas the originator of tragedy.\n\n[12] This is a mere name for a really anonymous collection of information\non philosophical and other history.\n\n[13] _Ars Poetica_, 275-7.\n\n[14] _Poetic_, 1449_a_.\n\n[15] \u03b2\u03b1\u03c3\u03b9\u03bb\u03b5\u1f7a\u03c2 \u1f26\u03bd \u03a7\u03bf\u03af\u03c1\u03b9\u03bb\u03bf\u03c2 \u1f10\u03bd \u03c3\u03b1\u03c4\u03cd\u03c1\u03bf\u03b9\u03c2 (Plotius, _De Metris_, p. 2633,\nquoted by Haigh, _Tragic Drama_, p. 40).\n\n[16] _Frogs_, 689: \u03b5\u1f34 \u03c4\u03b9\u03c2 \u1f25\u03bc\u03b1\u03c1\u03c4\u03b5 \u03c3\u03c6\u03b1\u03bb\u03b5\u03af\u03c2 \u03c4\u03b9 \u03a6\u03c1\u03c5\u03bd\u03af\u03c7\u03bf\u03c5 \u03c0\u03b1\u03bb\u03b1\u03af\u03c3\u03bc\u03b1\u03c3\u03b9\u03bd. The\nallusion in the first instance points undoubtedly to the famous _general_\nPhrynichus; but his political machinations are jokingly referred to as a\n\u201cwrestling-bout\u201d because of the celebrated description in his namesake\nthe playwright.\n\n[17] Herod. VI, 21.\n\n[18] _Wasps_, 220 (\u03bc\u03ad\u03bb\u03b7 \u1f00\u03c1\u03c7\u03b1\u03b9\u03bf\u03bc\u03b5\u03bb\u03b9\u03c3\u03b9\u03b4\u03c9\u03bd\u03bf\u03c6\u03c1\u03c5\u03bd\u03b9\u03c7\u03ae\u03c1\u03b1\u03c4\u03b1).\n\n[19] _Birds_, 748-51, reading \u1f65\u03c3\u03c0\u03b5\u03c1 \u1f21 \u03bc\u03ad\u03bb\u03b9\u03c4\u03c4\u03b1.\n\n[20] \u03bb\u03ac\u03bc\u03c0\u03b5\u03b9 \u03b4\u2019 \u1f10\u03c0\u1f76 \u03c0\u03bf\u03c1\u03c6\u03c5\u03c1\u03ad\u03b1\u03b9\u03c2 \u03c0\u03b1\u03c1\u1fc7\u03c3\u03b9 \u03c6\u1ff6\u03c2 \u1f14\u03c1\u03c9\u03c4\u03bf\u03c2. Notice the exquisite\nalliteration. Sophocles no doubt had this line in mind when he wrote\n_Antigone_ 782.\n\n[21] The writer of the Argument to the _Pers\u00e6_ says: \u0393\u03bb\u03b1\u1fe6\u03ba\u03bf\u03c2 \u1f10\u03bd \u03c4\u03bf\u1fd6\u03c2 \u03c0\u03b5\u03c1\u1f76\n\u0391\u1f30\u03c3\u03c7\u03cd\u03bb\u03bf\u03c5 \u03bc\u03cd\u03b8\u03c9\u03bd \u1f10\u03ba \u03c4\u1ff6\u03bd \u03a6\u03bf\u03b9\u03bd\u03af\u03c3\u03c3\u03c9\u03bd \u03a6\u03c1\u03c5\u03bd\u03af\u03c7\u03bf\u03c5 \u03c6\u03b7\u03c3\u1f76 \u03c4\u03bf\u1f7a\u03c2 \u03a0\u03ad\u03c1\u03c3\u03b1\u03c2 \u03c0\u03b1\u03c1\u03b1\u03c0\u03b5\u03c0\u03bf\u03b9\u1fc6\u03c3\u03b8\u03b1\u03b9.\nThe late Dr. Verrall (_The Bacchantes of Euripides and Other Essays_, pp.\n283-308) believed that not only is the _Pers\u00e6_ modelled on the _Ph\u0153niss\u00e6_\nbut _\u00c6schylus_ incorporated a large portion of Phrynichus\u2019 play with\nlittle change (_Pers\u00e6_ vv. 480-514 especially).\n\n[22] By M. Croiset, _Hist. de la Litt. grecque_, III, p. 49.\n\n[23] This is asserted by his epitaph:\u2014\n\n    \u0391\u1f34\u03c3\u03c7\u03c5\u03bb\u03bf\u03bd \u0395\u1f50\u03c6\u03bf\u03c1\u03af\u03c9\u03bd\u03bf\u03c2 \u1f08\u03b8\u03b7\u03bd\u03b1\u1fd6\u03bf\u03bd \u03c4\u03cc\u03b4\u03b5 \u03ba\u03b5\u03cd\u03b8\u03b5\u03b9\n      \u03bc\u03bd\u1fc6\u03bc\u03b1 \u03ba\u03b1\u03c4\u03b1\u03c6\u03b8\u03af\u03bc\u03b5\u03bd\u03bf\u03bd \u03c0\u03c5\u03c1\u03bf\u03c6\u03cc\u03c1\u03bf\u03b9\u03bf \u0393\u03ad\u03bb\u03b1\u03c2,\n    \u1f00\u03bb\u03ba\u1f74\u03bd \u03b4\u2019 \u03b5\u1f50\u03b4\u03cc\u03ba\u03b9\u03bc\u03bf\u03bd \u039c\u03b1\u03c1\u03b1\u03b8\u03ce\u03bd\u03b9\u03bf\u03bd \u1f04\u03bb\u03c3\u03bf\u03c2 \u1f02\u03bd \u03b5\u1f34\u03c0\u03bf\u03b9\n      \u03ba\u03b1\u1f76 \u03b2\u03b1\u03b8\u03c5\u03c7\u03b1\u03b9\u03c4\u03ae\u03b5\u03b9\u03c2 \u039c\u1fc6\u03b4\u03bf\u03c2 \u1f10\u03c0\u03b9\u03c3\u03c4\u03ac\u03bc\u03b5\u03bd\u03bf\u03c2.\n\nThese verses are said to come from the pen of \u00c6schylus himself. For once\nsuch tradition appears to be true. No forger would have had the audacity\nto omit all reference to the plays.\n\n[24] This, however, is certainly stated by Aristotle (_Nic. Ethics_,\n1111_a_). On the other hand, \u00c6schylus says in the _Frogs_ (886); \u0394\u03ae\u03bc\u03b7\u03c4\u03b5\u03c1,\n\u1f21 \u03b8\u03c1\u03ad\u03c8\u03b1\u03c3\u03b1 \u03c4\u1f74\u03bd \u1f10\u03bc\u1f74\u03bd \u03c6\u03c1\u03ad\u03bd\u03b1, \u03b5\u1f36\u03bd\u03b1\u03af \u03bc\u03b5 \u03c4\u1ff6\u03bd \u03c3\u1ff6\u03bd \u1f04\u03be\u03b9\u03bf\u03bd \u03bc\u03c5\u03c3\u03c4\u03b7\u03c1\u03af\u03c9\u03bd.\n\n[25] Aristotle, Poetic, 1449_a_.\n\n[26] The following plays were performed with two actors only: of\n\u00c6schylus, _Supplices_, _Prometheus_, _Pers\u00e6_, _Seven against Thebes_; of\nEuripides, _Medea_, and perhaps _Alcestis_.\n\n[27] By Plutarch, _Life of Cimon_, VIII. Haigh (_The Tragic Drama of the\nGreeks_, p. 128\u00b2) gives good reasons for rejecting the story.\n\n[28] One of these occasions was that on which he presented the _\u0152dipus\nTyrannus_.\n\n[29] A fragment of Ion\u2019s \u1f18\u03c0\u03b9\u03b4\u03b7\u03bc\u03af\u03b1\u03b9 remarks: \u03c4\u1f70 \u03bc\u03ad\u03bd\u03c4\u03bf\u03b9 \u03c0\u03bf\u03bb\u03b9\u03c4\u03b9\u03ba\u1f70 \u03bf\u1f54\u03c4\u03b5 \u03c3\u03bf\u03c6\u1f78\u03c2\n\u03bf\u1f54\u03c4\u03b5 \u1fe5\u03b5\u03ba\u03c4\u03ae\u03c1\u03b9\u03bf\u03c2 \u1f26\u03bd, \u1f00\u03bb\u03bb\u2019 \u1f61\u03c2 \u1f04\u03bd \u03c4\u03b9\u03c2 \u03b5\u1f37\u03c2 \u03c4\u1ff6\u03bd \u03c7\u03c1\u03b7\u03c3\u03c4\u1ff6\u03bd \u1f08\u03b8\u03b7\u03bd\u03b1\u03af\u03c9\u03bd.\n\n[30] Aristophanes, too, in the _Frogs_ (v. 82), bears witness to his\ncharm: \u1f41 \u03b4\u2019 \u03b5\u1f54\u03ba\u03bf\u03bb\u03bf\u03c2 \u03bc\u1f72\u03bd \u1f10\u03bd\u03b8\u03ac\u03b4\u2019, \u03b5\u1f54\u03ba\u03bf\u03bb\u03bf\u03c2 \u03b4\u2019 \u1f10\u03ba\u03b5\u1fd6\u00b7 \u201cSophocles, on the other\nhand, is gentle here (_i.e._ in Hades) as he was in life.\u201d\n\n[31] _\u0152d. Col_. 1225-8.\n\n[32] _Poetic_, 1460_b_: \u03a3\u03bf\u03c6\u03bf\u03ba\u03bb\u1fc6\u03c2 \u1f14\u03c6\u03b7 \u03b1\u1f50\u03c4\u1f78\u03c2 \u03bc\u1f72\u03bd \u03bf\u1f35\u03bf\u03c5\u03c2 \u03b4\u03b5\u1fd6 \u03c0\u03bf\u03b9\u03b5\u1fd6\u03bd,\n\u0395\u1f50\u03c1\u03b9\u03c0\u03af\u03b4\u03b7\u03bd \u03b4\u1f72 \u03bf\u1f37\u03bf\u03b9 \u03b5\u1f30\u03c3\u03af\u03bd.\n\n[33] Plutarch, _De Profectu in Virtute_, 79 B: \u1f41 \u03a3\u03bf\u03c6\u03bf\u03ba\u03bb\u1fc6\u03c2 \u1f14\u03bb\u03b5\u03b3\u03b5, \u03c4\u1f78\u03bd\n\u0391\u1f30\u03c3\u03c7\u03cd\u03bb\u03bf\u03c5 \u03b4\u03b9\u03b1\u03c0\u03b5\u03c0\u03b1\u03b9\u03c7\u1f7c\u03c2 \u1f44\u03b3\u03ba\u03bf\u03bd, \u03b5\u1f36\u03c4\u03b1 \u03c4\u1f78 \u03c0\u03b9\u03ba\u03c1\u1f78\u03bd \u03ba\u03b1\u1f76 \u03ba\u03b1\u03c4\u03ac\u03c4\u03b5\u03c7\u03bd\u03bf\u03bd \u03c4\u1fc6\u03c2 \u03b1\u1f50\u03c4\u03bf\u1fe6\n\u03ba\u03b1\u03c4\u03b1\u03c3\u03ba\u03b5\u03c5\u1fc6\u03c2, \u03c4\u03c1\u03af\u03c4\u03bf\u03bd \u1f24\u03b4\u03b7 \u03c4\u1f78 \u03c4\u1fc6\u03c2 \u03bb\u03ad\u03be\u03b5\u03c9\u03c2 \u03bc\u03b5\u03c4\u03b1\u03b2\u03ac\u03bb\u03bb\u03b5\u03b9\u03bd \u03b5\u1f36\u03b4\u03bf\u03c2 \u1f45\u03c0\u03b5\u03c1 \u1f10\u03c3\u03c4\u1f76\u03bd\n\u1f20\u03b8\u03b9\u03ba\u03ce\u03c4\u03b1\u03c4\u03bf\u03bd \u03ba\u03b1\u1f76 \u03b2\u03ad\u03bb\u03c4\u03b9\u03c3\u03c4\u03bf\u03bd.\n\n[34] See Haigh, _Tragic Drama_, p. 162.\n\n[35] Aristotle, _Poetic_, 1449_a_.\n\n[36] Suidas (_s.v._ \u03a3\u03bf\u03c6\u03bf\u03ba\u03bb\u1fc6\u03c2): \u03ba\u03b1\u1f76 \u03b1\u1f50\u03c4\u1f78\u03c2 \u1f26\u03c1\u03be\u03b5 \u03c4\u03bf\u1fe6 \u03b4\u03c1\u1fb6\u03bc\u03b1 \u03c0\u03c1\u1f78\u03c2 \u03b4\u03c1\u1fb6\u03bc\u03b1\n\u1f00\u03b3\u03c9\u03bd\u03af\u03b6\u03b5\u03c3\u03b8\u03b1\u03b9, \u1f00\u03bb\u03bb\u1f70 \u03bc\u1f74 \u03c4\u03b5\u03c4\u03c1\u03b1\u03bb\u03bf\u03b3\u03af\u03b1\u03bd.\n\n[37] In the Anonymous _Life_.\n\n[38] See Haigh, _Attic Tragedy_, pp. 139 _sq._, where this excellent\npoint is made.\n\n[39] The most celebrated is the description of the sun as a \u201cclod\u201d\n(_Orestes_, 983). _Alcestis_, 904 _sqq._, may very possibly refer to the\ndeath of Anaxagoras\u2019 son.\n\n[40] XV, 20.\n\n[41] A passage in his _Life_ suggests that he was indifferent to the\nstrictly \u201ctheatrical\u201d side of his profession: \u03bf\u1f50\u03b4\u03b5\u03bc\u03af\u03b1\u03bd \u03c6\u03b9\u03bb\u03bf\u03c4\u03b9\u03bc\u03af\u03b1\u03bd \u03c0\u03b5\u03c1\u1f76\n\u03c4\u1f70 \u03b8\u03ad\u03b1\u03c4\u03c1\u03b1 \u03c0\u03bf\u03b9\u03bf\u03cd\u03bc\u03b5\u03bd\u03bf\u03c2\u00b7 \u03b4\u03b9\u1f78 \u03c4\u03bf\u03c3\u03bf\u1fe6\u03c4\u03bf\u03bd \u03b1\u1f50\u03c4\u1f78\u03bd \u1f14\u03b2\u03bb\u03b1\u03c0\u03c4\u03b5 \u03c4\u03bf\u1fe6\u03c4\u03bf \u1f45\u03c3\u03bf\u03bd \u1f60\u03c6\u03ad\u03bb\u03b5\u03b9 \u03c4\u1f78\u03bd\n\u03a3\u03bf\u03c6\u03bf\u03ba\u03bb\u03ad\u03b1.\n\n[42] _Oxyrhynchus Papyri_, Vol. IX, pp. 124-82.\n\n[43] Pp. 29 _sq._\n\n[44] \u1f00\u03ba\u03c1\u03b9\u03b2\u1ff6\u03c2 \u1f45\u03bb\u03c9\u03c2 \u03c0\u03b5\u03c1\u03b9\u03b5\u03af\u03bb\u03b7\u03c6\u03b5\u03bd \u03c4\u1f78\u03bd \u1f08\u03bd\u03b1\u03be\u03b1\u03b3\u03cc\u03c1\u03b5\u03b9\u03bf\u03bd \u03b4\u03b9\u03ac\u03ba\u03bf\u03c3\u03bc\u03bf\u03bd \u1f10\u03bd \u03c4\u03c1\u03b9\u03c3\u1f76\u03bd\n\u03c0\u03b5\u03c1\u03b9\u03cc\u03b4\u03bf\u03b9\u03c2.\n\n[45] Aristotle, _Poetic_, 1452_b_.\n\n[46] Not all. The elegance of his iambic style excited Aristophanes\u2019\nadmiration: indeed he confessed to imitating it, and the great Cratinus\ninvented a significant compound verb \u03b5\u1f50\u03c1\u03b9\u03c0\u03b9\u03b4\u03b1\u03c1\u03b9\u03c3\u03c4\u03bf\u03c6\u03b1\u03bd\u03af\u03b6\u03b5\u03b9\u03bd. See Meineke,\n_Frag. Comicorum Gr\u00e6corum_, II, 1142.\n\n[47] _Frogs_, v. 1122: \u1f00\u03c3\u03b1\u03c6\u1f74\u03c2 \u03b3\u1f70\u03c1 \u1f26\u03bd \u1f10\u03bd \u03c4\u1fc7 \u03c6\u03c1\u03ac\u03c3\u03b5\u03b9 \u03c4\u1ff6\u03bd \u03c0\u03c1\u03b1\u03b3\u03bc\u03ac\u03c4\u03c9\u03bd.\n\n[48] vv. 846-54.\n\n[49] vv. 518-44.\n\n[50] _Frogs_, 939 _sqq._\n\n[51] _Ibid._ 948 _sqq._\n\n[52] _Ibid._ 959: \u03c3\u03cd\u03bd\u03b5\u03c3\u03bc\u03b5\u03bd may recall Grant Allen\u2019s famous sentence about\ntaking Hedda Gabler down to dinner.\n\n[53] Of these three points the first two come from Suidas (under the\narticle \u039d\u03b5\u03cc\u03c6\u03c1\u03c9\u03bd), the third from the argument to the extant _Medea_: \u03c4\u1f78\n\u03b4\u03c1\u1fb6\u03bc\u03b1 \u03b4\u03bf\u03ba\u03b5\u1fd6 \u1f51\u03c0\u03bf\u03b2\u03b1\u03bb\u03ad\u03c3\u03b8\u03b1\u03b9 \u03c4\u1f70 \u039d\u03b5\u03cc\u03c6\u03c1\u03bf\u03bd\u03bf\u03c2 \u03b4\u03b9\u03b1\u03c3\u03ba\u03b5\u03c5\u03ac\u03c3\u03b1\u03c2, \u1f61\u03c2 \u0394\u03b9\u03ba\u03b1\u03af\u03b1\u03c1\u03c7\u03cc\u03c2 \u03c4\u03b5 \u03c0\u03b5\u03c1\u1f76\n\u03c4\u03bf\u1fe6 \u1f19\u03bb\u03bb\u03ac\u03b4\u03bf\u03c2 \u03b2\u03af\u03bf\u03c5 \u03ba\u03b1\u1f76 \u1f08\u03c1\u03b9\u03c3\u03c4\u03bf\u03c4\u03ad\u03bb\u03b7\u03c2 \u1f10\u03bd \u1f51\u03c0\u03bf\u03bc\u03bd\u03ae\u03bc\u03b1\u03c3\u03b9.\n\n[54] vv. 1211-6.\n\n[55] There is good reason to suppose that what we possess is a second\nversion. The scholiast on Aristophanes mentions passages as parodies of\nlines in the _Medea_ which we no longer read there.\n\n[56] In his \u1f51\u03c0\u03bf\u03bc\u03bd\u03ae\u03bc\u03b1\u03c4\u03b1, quoted by the Argument to the _Medea_.\n\n[57] \u03c0\u03c1\u1ff6\u03c4\u03bf\u03c2 \u03b5\u1f30\u03c2 \u03c4\u1f78 \u03bd\u1fe6\u03bd \u03bc\u1fc6\u03ba\u03bf\u03c2 \u03c4\u1f70 \u03b4\u03c1\u03ac\u03bc\u03b1\u03c4\u03b1 \u03ba\u03b1\u03c4\u03ad\u03c3\u03c4\u03b7\u03c3\u03b5\u03bd.\n\n[58] Unless we except the _Rhesus_ (996 lines).\n\n[59] The original form of it seems to have been:\u2014\n\n    \u1f65\u03c3\u03c4\u2019 \u03bf\u1f50\u03c7 \u1f51\u03c0\u03ac\u03c1\u03c7\u03c9\u03bd \u1f00\u03bb\u03bb\u1f70 \u03c4\u03b9\u03bc\u03c9\u03c1\u03bf\u03cd\u03bc\u03b5\u03bd\u03bf\u03c2\n    \u1f00\u03b3\u03c9\u03bd\u03b9\u03bf\u1fe6\u03bc\u03b1\u03b9.\n\n[60] The name is not certain. The book is variously called \u1f51\u03c0\u03bf\u03bc\u03bd\u03ae\u03bc\u03b1\u03c4\u03b1\n(\u201cnotes\u201d), \u1f10\u03c0\u03b9\u03b4\u03b7\u03bc\u03af\u03b1\u03b9 (\u201cvisits\u201d), and \u03c3\u03c5\u03bd\u03b5\u03ba\u03b4\u03b7\u03bc\u03b7\u03c4\u03b9\u03ba\u03cc\u03c2. The first is not a\n\u201cname\u201d\u2014it merely describes the book. The second was explained by Bentley\nto mean \u201caccounts of the visits to our island of Chios by distinguished\nstrangers\u201d. The third could mean something like \u201ctraveller\u2019s companion\u201d.\n\n[61] Plutarch (_De Profectu in Virtute_, 79 E), no doubt quoting from\nIon, tells us that at a critical moment in a boxing match \u00c6schylus nudged\nIon and said: \u201cYou see what a difference training makes? The man who has\nreceived the blow is silent, while the spectators cry aloud.\u201d\n\n[62] Plutarch, _Pericles_, Chap. V.\n\n[63] v. 835. To the scholium on this line we owe much of our information\nabout Ion.\n\n[64] One of them bears the curious title \u201cGreat Play\u201d (\u03bc\u03ad\u03b3\u03b1 \u03b4\u03c1\u1fb6\u03bc\u03b1), but\nnothing is known of it.\n\n[65] _Frogs_, 1425.\n\n[66] XXXIII, 5 (Prof. Rhys Roberts\u2019 translation).\n\n[67] Diog. Laert. II, 133.\n\n[68] Croiset III, p. 400 (n.), thus explains the strange words of Suidas,\n\u1f10\u03c0\u03b5\u03b4\u03b5\u03af\u03ba\u03bd\u03c5\u03c4\u03bf \u03b4\u1f72 \u03ba\u03bf\u03b9\u03bd\u1fc7 \u03c3\u1f7a\u03bd \u03ba\u03b1\u1f76 \u0395\u1f50\u03c1\u03b9\u03c0\u03af\u03b4\u1fc3.\n\n[69] Haigh, _Tragic Drama of the Greeks_, p. 409.\n\n[70] Ath. X, 451 C.\n\n[71] Aristotle, _Poetic_, 1451_b_.\n\n[72] _Ibid._ 1456_a_ (Butcher\u2019s translation).\n\n[73] Plutarch, _Symposiaca_, 645 E.\n\n[74] _Thesm._ 100: \u03bc\u03cd\u03c1\u03bc\u03b7\u03ba\u03bf\u03c2 \u1f00\u03c4\u03c1\u03b1\u03c0\u03bf\u03cd\u03c2.\n\n[75] Aristotle, _Poetic_, 1456_a_.\n\n[76] _Ibid._\n\n[77] _Ibid._\n\n[78] Such a sentence as that of M. Orgon in _Le jeu de l\u2019amour et du\nhasard_ (I, ii.): \u201cVa, dans ce monde, il faut \u00eatre un peu trop bon pour\nl\u2019\u00eatre assez,\u201d strikes one as thoroughly Agathonesque.\n\n[79] _Protagoras_, 315 E.\n\n[80] _Symposium_, 198 C. Socrates says of Agathon\u2019s panegyric upon Eros:\n\u03ba\u03b1\u1f76 \u03b3\u03ac\u03c1 \u03bc\u03b5 \u0393\u03bf\u03c1\u03b3\u03af\u03bf\u03c5 \u1f41 \u03bb\u03cc\u03b3\u03bf\u03c2 \u1f00\u03bd\u03b5\u03bc\u03af\u03bc\u03bd\u03b7\u03c3\u03ba\u03b5\u03bd. The whole speech of Agathon\nis intended to show these characteristics. Cp., for example, 197 D:\n\u03c0\u03c1\u1fb3\u03cc\u03c4\u03b7\u03c4\u03b1 \u03bc\u1f72\u03bd \u03c0\u03bf\u03c1\u03af\u03b6\u03c9\u03bd, \u1f00\u03b3\u03c1\u03b9\u03cc\u03c4\u03b7\u03c4\u03b1 \u03b4\u2019 \u1f10\u03be\u03bf\u03c1\u03af\u03b6\u03c9\u03bd\u00b7 \u03c6\u03b9\u03bb\u03cc\u03b4\u03c9\u03c1\u03bf\u03c2 \u03b5\u1f50\u03bc\u03b5\u03bd\u03b5\u03af\u03b1\u03c2, \u1f04\u03b4\u03c9\u03c1\u03bf\u03c2\n\u03b4\u03c5\u03c3\u03bc\u03b5\u03bd\u03b5\u03af\u03b1\u03c2 \u03ba\u03c4\u1f11.\n\n[81] _Thesm._ 130 _sqq._\n\n[82] _Ibid._ 54 _sqq._\n\n[83] It is noteworthy that Socrates\u2019 famous \u201cprophecy of Shakespeare\u201d\n(_Symposium_, 223 D), \u201cone who can write comedy can write tragedy and\n_vice versa_,\u201d is addressed to Agathon and Aristophanes jointly.\n\n[84] The attribution of this play to Critias is not certain, but\nprobable; it is accepted by Wilamowitz. The new life of Euripides by\nSatyrus (see above, p. 18) attributes it to that poet.\n\n[85] _Eratosthenes_, II.\n\n[86] _Poetic_, 1453_b_.\n\n[87] _De Gloria Atheniensium_, 349 E.\n\n[88] _Poetic_, 1455_a_, _b_.\n\n[89] Aristotle, _Rhetoric_, III, 12, 2: \u03b2\u03b1\u03c3\u03c4\u03ac\u03b6\u03bf\u03bd\u03c4\u03b1\u03b9 \u03b4\u1f72 \u03bf\u1f31 \u1f00\u03bd\u03b1\u03b3\u03bd\u03c9\u03c3\u03c4\u03b9\u03ba\u03bf\u03af,\n\u03bf\u1f37\u03bf\u03bd \u03a7\u03b1\u03b9\u03c1\u03ae\u03bc\u03c9\u03bd\u00b7 \u1f00\u03ba\u03c1\u03b9\u03b2\u1f74\u03c2 \u03b3\u1f70\u03c1 \u1f65\u03c3\u03c0\u03b5\u03c1 \u03bb\u03bf\u03b3\u03bf\u03b3\u03c1\u03ac\u03c6\u03bf\u03c2.\n\n[90] \u201cYou know how to feel contempt before you have learnt wisdom,\u201d or,\nto reproduce (however badly) the play upon words, \u201cYou practise contempt\nbefore using contemplation\u201d.\n\n[91] Athen\u00e6us, fr. 10: \u03b4\u03c1\u1fb6\u03bc\u03b1 \u03c0\u03bf\u03bb\u03cd\u03bc\u03b5\u03c4\u03c1\u03bf\u03bd.\n\n[92] _Poetic_, 1447_b_.\n\n[93] vv. 677-774.\n\n[94] Symonds, _Studies in the Greek Poets_, II, p. 26.\n\n[95] _Adversus Indoctos_, 15.\n\n[96] Athen\u00e6us III, 98 D, reports, for example, that he called a javelin\n\u03b2\u03b1\u03bb\u03bb\u03ac\u03bd\u03c4\u03b9\u03bf\u03bd (properly \u201cpurse\u201d), because \u201cit is thrown in the face of the\nfoe\u201d (\u1f10\u03bd\u03b1\u03bd\u03c4\u03af\u03bf\u03bd \u03b2\u03ac\u03bb\u03bb\u03b5\u03c4\u03b1\u03b9).\n\n[97] _Poetic_, 1454_b_.\n\n[98] 1455_a_.\n\n[99] _Rhetoric_, II, 1400_b_.\n\n[100] _Ibid._ 1417_b_, but the passage is obscure.\n\n[101] _Eth. Nic._ 1150_b_, 10.\n\n[102] \u00c6lian, V.H. XIV, 40.\n\n[103] _Orator_, 51.\n\n[104] _Poetic_, 1452_a_.\n\n[105] _Ibid._ 1455_b_.\n\n[106] \u201cFirst there came a circle with a dot in the middle,\u201d etc.\n\n[107] \u03b8\u03ad\u03bb\u03c9 \u03c4\u03cd\u03c7\u03b7\u03c2 \u03c3\u03c4\u03b1\u03bb\u03b1\u03b3\u03bc\u1f78\u03bd \u1f22 \u03c6\u03c1\u03b5\u03bd\u1ff6\u03bd \u03c0\u03af\u03b8\u03bf\u03bd.\n\n[108] That he belongs to the fourth century is not certain, though\nextremely probable.\n\n[109] We have only one title (_Telephus_) which implies a legendary theme.\n\n[110] Meineke suggests that the subject is an incident related by\nXenophon, _Hellenica_, VI, iv. 33, 34.\n\n[111] He might at least have written \u03c4\u03bf\u1fd6\u03c2 \u1f00\u03bc\u03b5\u03af\u03bd\u03bf\u03c3\u03b9\u03bd.\n\n[112] The meaning of this name is unknown.\n\n[113] Athen\u00e6us XIII, 595 F.\n\n[114] He uses the diminutive \u03b4\u03c1\u03b1\u03bc\u03ac\u03c4\u03b9\u03bf\u03bd.\n\n[115] \u03ba\u03b1\u03c4\u1f70 \u1f30\u03b1\u03c4\u03c1\u1ff6\u03bd (Stob\u00e6us, 102, 3). He was thus a precursor of Moli\u00e8re\nand Mr. Bernard Shaw.\n\n[116] Diogenes Laertius, VII, 173.\n\n[117] This point is made by Bernhardy, _Grundriss der Gr. Litteratur_ II,\nii. p. 72.\n\n[118] His date is not, however, certain, and there is some reason to\nassign his _floruit_ to the time of Alexander the Great.\n\n[119] The most amazing example is that of the \u201cThree Unities\u201d\u2014those of\nAction, Time, and Place\u2014of which such a vast amount has been heard and\nwhich ruled tyrannically over French \u201cclassical\u201d tragedy. It is difficult\nto believe that Aristotle never mentions the \u201cThree Unities\u201d. On the\nUnity of Action he has, of course, much to say; the Unity of Time is\ndismissed in one casual sentence. As to the Unity of Place there is not a\nword. (It is signally violated in the _Eumenides_ and the _Ajax_.)\n\n[120] _Poetic_, 1454_a_.\n\n[121] _Ibid._\n\n[122] See Wilamowitz-Moellendorff\u2019s magnificent _Einleitung in die\ngriechische Trag\u00f6die_, pp. 48-51 (_e.g._ \u201cnicht mehr Aristoteles der\naesthetiker sondern Aristoteles der historiker ist der ausgangspunkt\nunserer betrachtung\u201d and \u201cunser fundament ist und bleibt was in der\npoetik steht\u201d).\n\n[123] _Poetic_, 1449_b_: \u1f14\u03c3\u03c4\u03b9\u03bd \u03bf\u1f56\u03bd \u03c4\u03c1\u03b1\u03b3\u1ff3\u03b4\u03af\u03b1 \u03bc\u03af\u03bc\u03b7\u03c3\u03b9\u03c2 \u03c0\u03c1\u03ac\u03be\u03b5\u03c9\u03c2 \u03c3\u03c0\u03bf\u03c5\u03b4\u03b1\u03af\u03b1\u03c2 \u03ba\u03b1\u1f76\n\u03c4\u03b5\u03bb\u03b5\u03af\u03b1\u03c2 \u03bc\u03ad\u03b3\u03b5\u03b8\u03bf\u03c2 \u1f10\u03c7\u03bf\u03cd\u03c3\u03b7\u03c2, \u1f21\u03b4\u03c5\u03c3\u03bc\u03ad\u03bd\u1ff3 \u03bb\u03cc\u03b3\u1ff3 \u03c7\u03c9\u03c1\u1f76\u03c2 \u1f11\u03ba\u03ac\u03c3\u03c4\u1ff3 \u03c4\u1ff6\u03bd \u03b5\u1f30\u03b4\u1ff6\u03bd \u1f10\u03bd \u03c4\u03bf\u1fd6\u03c2\n\u03bc\u03bf\u03c1\u03af\u03bf\u03b9\u03c2, \u03b4\u03c1\u03ce\u03bd\u03c4\u03c9\u03bd \u03ba\u03b1\u1f76 \u03bf\u1f50 \u03b4\u03b9\u2019 \u1f00\u03c0\u03b1\u03b3\u03b3\u03b5\u03bb\u03af\u03b1\u03c2, \u03b4\u03b9\u2019 \u1f10\u03bb\u03ad\u03bf\u03c5 \u03ba\u03b1\u1f76 \u03c6\u03cc\u03b2\u03bf\u03c5 \u03c0\u03b5\u03c1\u03b1\u03af\u03bd\u03bf\u03c5\u03c3\u03b1\n\u03c4\u1f74\u03bd \u03c4\u1ff6\u03bd \u03c4\u03bf\u03b9\u03bf\u03cd\u03c4\u03c9\u03bd \u03c0\u03b1\u03b8\u03b7\u03bc\u03ac\u03c4\u03c9\u03bd \u03ba\u03ac\u03b8\u03b1\u03c1\u03c3\u03b9\u03bd.\n\n[124] 1448_a_.\n\n[125] 1451_a_, _b_.\n\n[126] 1462_a_.\n\n[127] 1462_a_, _b_. (The phrasing in the summary above is borrowed from\nButcher.) See further 1449_b_.\n\n[128] 1450_b_.\n\n[129] 1450_a_.\n\n[130] 1451_a_.\n\n[131] 1451_a_.\n\n[132] 1451_b_.\n\n[133] 1452_a_.\n\n[134] 1452_a_.\n\n[135] 1452_b_.\n\n[136] \u03bf\u1f31 \u1f10\u03bd \u03c4\u1ff7 \u03c6\u03b1\u03bd\u03b5\u03c1\u1ff7 \u03b8\u03ac\u03bd\u03b1\u03c4\u03bf\u03b9.\n\n[137] 1453_a_.\n\n[138] 1453_b_.\n\n[139] 1454_a_, _b_.\n\n[140] pp. 163-5.\n\n[141] pp. 313-5.\n\n[142] 1454_b_, 1460_a_.\n\n[143] 1452_b_: \u1f14\u03c3\u03c4\u03b9\u03bd \u03b4\u1f72 \u03c0\u03c1\u03cc\u03bb\u03bf\u03b3\u03bf\u03c2 \u03bc\u1f72\u03bd \u03bc\u03ad\u03c1\u03bf\u03c2 \u1f45\u03bb\u03bf\u03bd \u03c4\u03c1\u03b1\u03b3\u1ff3\u03b4\u03af\u03b1\u03c2 \u03c4\u1f78 \u03c0\u03c1\u1f78 \u03c7\u03bf\u03c1\u03bf\u1fe6\n\u03c0\u03b1\u03c1\u03cc\u03b4\u03bf\u03c5, \u1f10\u03c0\u03b5\u03b9\u03c3\u03cc\u03b4\u03b9\u03bf\u03bd \u03b4\u1f72 \u03bc\u03ad\u03c1\u03bf\u03c2 \u1f45\u03bb\u03bf\u03bd \u03c4\u03c1\u03b1\u03b3\u1ff3\u03b4\u03af\u03b1\u03c2 \u03c4\u1f78 \u03bc\u03b5\u03c4\u03b1\u03be\u1f7a \u1f45\u03bb\u03c9\u03bd \u03c7\u03bf\u03c1\u03b9\u03ba\u1ff6\u03bd \u03bc\u03b5\u03bb\u1ff6\u03bd,\n\u1f14\u03be\u03bf\u03b4\u03bf\u03c2 \u03b4\u1f72 \u03bc\u03ad\u03c1\u03bf\u03c2 \u1f45\u03bb\u03bf\u03bd \u03c4\u03c1\u03b1\u03b3\u1ff3\u03b4\u03af\u03b1\u03c2 \u03bc\u03b5\u03b8\u2019 \u1f43 \u03bf\u1f50\u03ba \u1f14\u03c3\u03c4\u03b9 \u03c7\u03bf\u03c1\u03bf\u1fe6 \u03bc\u03ad\u03bb\u03bf\u03c2, \u03c7\u03bf\u03c1\u03b9\u03ba\u03bf\u1fe6 \u03b4\u1f72\n\u03c0\u03ac\u03c1\u03bf\u03b4\u03bf\u03c2 \u03bc\u1f72\u03bd \u1f21 \u03c0\u03c1\u03ce\u03c4\u03b7 \u03bb\u03ad\u03be\u03b9\u03c2 \u1f45\u03bb\u03b7 \u03c7\u03bf\u03c1\u03bf\u1fe6, \u03c3\u03c4\u03ac\u03c3\u03b9\u03bc\u03bf\u03bd \u03b4\u1f72 \u03bc\u03ad\u03bb\u03bf\u03c2 \u03c7\u03bf\u03c1\u03bf\u1fe6 \u03c4\u1f78 \u1f04\u03bd\u03b5\u03c5\n\u1f00\u03bd\u03b1\u03c0\u03b1\u03af\u03c3\u03c4\u03bf\u03c5 \u03ba\u03b1\u1f76 \u03c4\u03c1\u03bf\u03c7\u03b1\u03af\u03bf\u03c5, \u03ba\u03cc\u03bc\u03bc\u03bf\u03c2 \u03b4\u1f72 \u03b8\u03c1\u1fc6\u03bd\u03bf\u03c2 \u03ba\u03bf\u03b9\u03bd\u1f78\u03c2 \u03c7\u03bf\u03c1\u03bf\u1fe6 \u03ba\u03b1\u1f76 \u03c4\u1ff6\u03bd \u1f00\u03c0\u1f78 \u03c3\u03ba\u03b7\u03bd\u1fc6\u03c2.\n\n[144] p. 4.\n\n[145] Chap. VI.\n\n[146] 1455_b_.\n\n[147] 1452_a_.\n\n[148] 1450_b_.\n\n[149] Plato (_Symposium_, 175 E) makes Socrates congratulate Agathon\non his success in the presence of \u201cmore than 30,000 Greeks\u201d. Modern\narch\u00e6ologists, by statistics based on the seating-accommodation, would\nreduce this figure to 17,000.\n\n[150] There are fourteen of these at Athens.\n\n[151] This account is based on D\u00f6rpfeld (_Das griechische Theater_,\nAbschnitt VII) who believes there was no stage, and on Haigh (_Attic\nTheatre_\u00b3, edited by Mr. Pickard-Cambridge, Chap. III) who believes there\nwas a stage.\n\n[152] That is, shorter, viewed from left to right by the spectators. The\ndepth of the Vitruvian stage was 10 feet.\n\n[153] Vitruvius V, vii, 3-4.\n\n[154] By Wieseler and others.\n\n[155] Haigh\u00b3, pp. 165-74.\n\n[156] \u1f00\u03bd\u03b1\u03b2\u03b1\u03af\u03bd\u03c9: _Knights_, 148; _Acharnians_, 732; _Wasps_, 1342.\n\n[157] \u03ba\u03b1\u03c4\u03b1\u03b2\u03b1\u03af\u03bd\u03c9: _Eccles._ 1151; _Wasps_, 1514.\n\n[158] Euripides, _Ion_, 727, _Electra_, 4 _sq._, _Herc. Fur._ 119. As\nHaigh (3rd ed., p. 167) points out, \u201cin the last passage it is the chorus\nwhich makes the complaint; so that in this case, if there was any visible\nascent, it cannot have been the ascent to the stage\u201d.\n\n[159] This is a strong and favourite argument for the stage; when Haigh\n(3rd ed., p. 168) denies this because \u201ca sufficient reason is ...\nthe fact that, if they had gone into the palace, the scene of action\nwould have been left empty for the time being,\u201d he forgets that such a\ndeparture of the chorus is quite possible. It occurs in _Eumenides_,\n_Ajax_, _Alcestis_, and _Helena_, not to mention Comedy.\n\n[160] Haigh\u00b3, p. 170 _sq._\n\n[161] _Symposium_, 194 B.\n\n[162] _Ars Poetica_, 278: \u00c6schylus et modicis instravit pulpita tignis.\n\n[163] _Das Gr. Theater_, p. 350.\n\n[164] He wrote a lexicon to Plato in the third century after Christ.\n\n[165] D\u00f6rpfeld gives various optical diagrams to exhibit the effects.\n\n[166] We incessantly see this effect in modern theatres. But in Greece\nthe presence of the chorus performing below would force spectators to\nregard the building as suspended.\n\n[167] Save, of course, those on the new lowest seats, which went down to\nthe new level of the excavated half. D\u00f6rpfeld has discovered evidence\nthat the present lowest seats at Athens were added after the rest.\n\n[168] _Das griechische Theater_, p. 364. After the publication of this\nview D\u00f6rpfeld altered his opinion, and suggested (_Bull. Corr. Hell._\n1896, p. 577 _sqq._) that V. means not the ordinary Greek Theatre, but\nthe Gr\u00e6co-Roman type found in Asia Minor. But this seems worse than his\nfirst thought. See Haigh\u00b3, pp. 147 _sq._\n\n[169] _Ibid._ pp. 146 _sq._\n\n[170] In Plato\u2019s time this was notably so (_Laws_, 659 A-C, 700 C, 701 A).\n\n[171] Plutarch, _Nicias_, 524 D.\n\n[172] Aristotle, _Rhetoric_, III, i.\n\n[173] This is the usual term employed. See, however, Haigh\u00b3, p. 13,\nnote 3: \u201cthe word \u03c4\u03b5\u03c4\u03c1\u03b1\u03bb\u03bf\u03b3\u03af\u03b1 was applied only to a group of four plays\nconnected in subject,\u201d etc.\n\n[174] This was certainly the number for comedy; it is assumed for tragedy.\n\n[175] \u03c4\u03c1\u03ac\u03b3\u03bf\u03c2. This was supposed to be the origin of the word \u201ctragedy\u201d\n(\u03c4\u03c1\u03b1\u03b3\u1ff3\u03b4\u03af\u03b1 \u201cgoat-song\u201d).\n\n[176] Vitruvius, V, vi., and Pollux, iv., 126.\n\n[177] Professor Ridgeway makes much use of this custom in his theory that\nGreek drama originated in celebrations at the tombs of great persons. See\nhis _Origin of Tragedy_, and pp. 2 _sq._ above.\n\n[178] Haigh\u00b3, p. 187.\n\n[179] _Clouds_, 225.\n\n[180] Pollux (iv. 128), who gives the most definite description, adds:\n\u201cone must understand it at each door, as it were in each house,\u201d but his\nunsupported testimony on any subject is not trustworthy.\n\n[181] In fact Pollux, who is fond of making a particular case into a\ngeneral rule, may have had this instance in his head. He writes (iv.\n128): \u201cthe eccyclema is a lofty stand raised upon timbers and carrying a\nchair\u201d (\u1f10\u03c0\u1f76 \u03be\u03cd\u03bb\u03c9\u03bd \u1f51\u03c8\u03b7\u03bb\u1f78\u03bd \u03b2\u03ac\u03b8\u03c1\u03bf\u03bd \u1fa7 \u1f10\u03c0\u03af\u03ba\u03b5\u03b9\u03c4\u03b1\u03b9 \u03b8\u03c1\u03cc\u03bd\u03bf\u03c2).\n\n[182] Ar. _Knights_, 1249.\n\n[183] This story occurs in the anonymous _Life_ of \u00c6schines.\n\n[184] They are mutes, for the lines supposed to be uttered by one or both\nbehind the scenes were probably delivered by one of the actors not needed\n\u201cin front\u201d.\n\n[185] The _\u0152dipus Coloneus_ is an exception. See Jebb\u2019s _Introduction_,\n3rd ed., pp. 7, 8.\n\n[186] Cp. the vigorous protest of Pratinas (p. 6).\n\n[187] Pherecrates, _Cheiron_, frag. 1, cp. Arist. _Thesmoph._ 100.\n\n[188] Ar. _Frogs_, 1314.\n\n[189] We hear from the scholiast on _Choephor\u0153_, 900, that the same actor\ntook the part of Pylades and of the servant who gives the alarm. The\nlatter after arousing Clyt\u00e6mnestra rushes within, and when the Queen has\nuttered five lines Pylades appears accompanying Orestes. This example is\ngiven by Haigh\u00b3, p. 232.\n\n[190] Told by the scholiast on Aristophanes, _Frogs_, 303.\n\n[191] The slovenliness in this regard of many modern actors is mostly due\nto \u201clong runs\u201d. After saying the same thing hundreds of times, an actor\nnaturally tends to mechanical diction. The writer has heard a performer\nin an emotional crisis suddenly (as it appeared) call for champagne.\nFeeling sure that \u201cPommery\u201d could not be right, he reflected, and\ndiscovered that the mysterious syllables meant \u201cPoor Mary!\u201d Even actors\nat the head of the profession are guilty of such things as \u201cthe lor of\nVenice\u201d.\n\n[192] See Haigh\u00b3, p. 279 _sq._, for some highly interesting extracts.\n\n[193] _Poetic_ 1456_a_ (tr. Butcher).\n\n[194] _Ibid._\n\n[195] This was the normal mode of entry, but the plot sometimes demanded\nothers. In the _Eumenides_ the Chorus rush in pell-mell; so probably in\nthe _Bacch\u00e6_; in the Euripidean _Supplices_ they are discovered grouped\naround the Queen.\n\n[196] See pp. 344 _sq._\n\n[197]\n\n    \u1f65\u03c3\u03c4\u2019 \u03b5\u1f34 \u03c4\u03b9\u03c2 \u1f40\u03c1\u03c7\u03bf\u1fd6\u03c4\u2019 \u03b5\u1f56, \u03b8\u03ad\u03b1\u03bc\u2019 \u1f26\u03bd\u00b7 \u03bd\u1fe6\u03bd \u03b4\u1f72 \u03b4\u03c1\u1ff6\u03c3\u03b9\u03bd \u03bf\u1f50\u03b4\u03ad\u03bd,\n    \u1f00\u03bb\u03bb\u2019 \u1f65\u03c3\u03c0\u03b5\u03c1 \u1f00\u03c0\u03cc\u03c0\u03bb\u03b7\u03ba\u03c4\u03bf\u03b9 \u03b2\u03ac\u03b4\u03b7\u03bd \u1f11\u03c3\u03c4\u1ff6\u03c4\u03b5\u03c2 \u1f60\u03c1\u03cd\u03bf\u03bd\u03c4\u03b1\u03b9.\n\n[198] Haigh\u00b3, p. 318. Both the gestures described sound like a curious\nanticipation of the gestures favoured by the performers of \u201ccoon-songs\u201d.\n\n[199] This was not always an advantage when comedy held the scene. There\nis a delightfully impudent passage in the _Frogs_ (v. 297) where Dionysus\nto escape a hobgoblin appeals to his own priest for protection.\n\n[200] For a detailed description of the seating see Haigh\u00b3, pp. 94-101.\n\n[201] It is a fact familiar to students of comparative religion that\nobscenity is often a part of ritual. This is true of several Greek\nworships, including that of Dionysus. Hence even tragedy retained its\nsatyric complement, though satyric drama regularly showed obscene\nfeatures.\n\n[202] Puchstein would date it earlier (end of the fifth century).\n\n[203] Plutarch, _Liber Amatorius_, 756 B, C.\n\n[204] \u1f10\u03ba\u03c3\u03c5\u03c1\u03af\u03c4\u03c4\u03b5\u03b9\u03bd (\u201cto hiss off\u201d).\n\n[205] Demosthenes, _De Falsa Legatione_, \u00a7 337.\n\n[206] _Ethics_, X, 1175 B.\n\n[207] _Date_: uncertain. Professor Tucker thinks the year 492-1 probable;\n\u00c6schylus was then thirty-three years old. Historical considerations are\nhere of doubtful value, but the technique of the play seems to prove\nbeyond question that it is an early work.\n\n_Arrangement_: protagonist, Danaus, Egyptian herald; deuteragonist, King\nof Argos.\n\n[208] In the centre of the orchestra, as always.\n\n[209] Danaus is necessarily dismissed so that the actor who impersonates\nhim may appear as the Egyptian herald.\n\n[210] vv. 991-2.\n\n[211] vv. 994-1013.\n\n[212] \u0396\u03b5\u03cd\u03c2 (or words derived therefrom) occurs about sixty times.\n\n[213] vv. 91-5 (Professor Tucker\u2019s translation).\n\n[214] vv. 230-1.\n\n[215] _Date_: 472 B.C. _Arrangement_: protagonist, Atossa and Xerxes;\ndeuteragonist, Messenger and Darius.\n\n[216] The actor who presents the queen has now to present the king.\n\n[217] This was a satyric play, and must not be confused with the extant\n_Prometheus_.\n\n[218] See Patin, _Eschyle_, p. 211.\n\n[219] _Henry V_, IV, viii.\n\n[220] vv. 361-2.\n\n[221] _Arrangement_: protagonist: Eteocles and Antigone; deuteragonist,\nmessenger, and herald. The part of Ismene was taken by a member of the\nchorus.\n\n[222] _Frogs_, 1021.\n\n[223] vv. 591-4.\n\n[224] _Life of Aristides_, III.\n\n[225] Dr. Verrall, however, in his Introduction (pp. xiv, xv) sees\ntechnical drama of the highest kind in the choosing of the champions. As\nthe Theban warriors are told off one by one, the chorus (and audience)\nsee with ever-increasing horror that Eteocles must be left as the\nopponent of Polynices.\n\n[226] M\u00fcller-Heitz (_Griechische Litteraturgeschichte_, ii. p. 88)\npoint out, also, that this play needs more elaborate machinery than any\nother extant drama. But it may well be doubted whether all the effects\nmentioned by the poet are realized.\n\n[227] Bia (\u201cViolence\u201d), also present, is a mute.\n\n[228] See H. Weil\u2019s masterly _Note sur le Prom\u00e9th\u00e9e d\u2019Eschyle_ (_Le drame\nantique_, pp. 86-92).\n\n[229] Zeus had intended to wed Thetis. On hearing the secret, he married\nher to Peleus, who became the father of Achilles.\n\n[230] It is fairly certain that it dealt with Menelaus\u2019 visit to Egypt on\nhis way back from Troy. He was shipwrecked on an island and the prophetic\nProteus gave him advice, sending him first to Egypt. See _Odyssey_, IV,\n351-586.\n\n[231] _Arrangement_: protagonist, Clyt\u00e6mnestra; deuteragonist, Herald,\nCassandra; tritagonist, Sentinel, Agamemnon, \u00c6gisthus.\n\n[232] See especially his _Introduction_ (pp. xiii-xlvii of the 2nd\nedition).\n\n[233] This is noted by an admirable touch. Almost always a tragedy\nends with words of the chorus as the least impassioned parties. In the\n_Agamemnon_ the closing words are uttered by Clyt\u00e6mnestra.\n\n[234] _Choephor\u0153_, 889.\n\n[235] _The Relapse_, V, iv. 135.\n\n[236] _Arrangement_: protagonist, Orestes; deuteragonist, Electra,\nClyt\u00e6mnestra; tritagonist, Pylades, nurse, attendant, \u00c6gisthus.\n\n[237] This is of course a conventional _mise-en-sc\u00e8ne_; we are to imagine\nthe tomb as distant from the palace.\n\n[238] On this and the other \u201ctokens\u201d see below, p. 258.\n\n[239] The dead man is undoubtedly supposed to send aid in a mysterious\nway, but no ghost appears, as in the _Pers\u00e6_. This discrepancy points\nto a change in religious feeling. Clyt\u00e6mnestra\u2019s shade \u201cappears\u201d in the\n_Eumenides_, but as a dream (see v. 116).\n\n[240] vv. 870-4. It seems most natural to suppose that they altogether\nquit the orchestra, returning before v. 930.\n\n[241] Not quite, however. The poet is to depict a man, with whom we are\nto sympathize, almost in the act of slaying his mother. Not only Orestes,\nbut the spectator also, needs as much spiritual fortification as can be\nprovided.\n\n[242] vv. 313: \u03b4\u03c1\u03ac\u03c3\u03b1\u03bd\u03c4\u03b9 \u03c0\u03b1\u03b8\u03b5\u1fd6\u03bd.\n\n[243] _Arrangement._\u2014Croiset gives: protagonist, Orestes; deuteragonist,\nApollo; tritagonist, Athena, priestess, ghost of Clyt\u00e6mnestra. This\n_grouping_ is certainly right, but it is not easy to suppose that the\npart of Athena was given to the tritagonist. It seems better to give\nAthena, etc., to the protagonist, Apollo to the second, and Orestes to\nthe third actor.\n\n[244] Probably the _eccyclema_ was used. See pp. 66-8.\n\n[245] vv. 517-9:\u2014\n\n    \u1f14\u03c3\u03b8\u2019 \u1f45\u03c0\u03bf\u03c5 \u03c4\u1f78 \u03b4\u03b5\u03b9\u03bd\u1f78\u03bd \u03b5\u1f56\n    \u03ba\u03b1\u1f76 \u03c6\u03c1\u03b5\u03bd\u1ff6\u03bd \u1f10\u03c0\u03af\u03c3\u03ba\u03bf\u03c0\u03bf\u03bd\n    \u03b4\u03b5\u1fd6 \u03bc\u03ad\u03bd\u03b5\u03b9\u03bd \u03ba\u03b1\u03b8\u03ae\u03bc\u03b5\u03bd\u03bf\u03bd.\n\n[246] The actual rule of the Areopagite Court was that if the votes were\neven the defendant was acquitted. This rule was explained as derived from\nthe \u201cVote of Athena\u201d in the trial of Orestes. It seems then that Athena\u2019s\nvote here makes inequality, not equality. Therefore her pebble is not put\ninto either urn, but laid between them.\n\n[247] It is implied by the title of the drama that they assume the title\nEumenides or \u201cGracious Ones,\u201d but this title is not used in the play\nitself. Their most usual name was \u03a3\u03b5\u03bc\u03bd\u03b1\u03af, \u201cAwful Ones\u201d.\n\n[248] v. 644.\n\n[249] In her great speech to the court she plainly adopts the language of\nthe Furies. See below.\n\n[250] v. 747: \u1f21\u03bc\u1fd6\u03bd \u03b3\u1f70\u03c1 \u1f14\u03c1\u03c1\u03b5\u03b9\u03bd, \u1f22 \u03c0\u03c1\u03cc\u03c3\u03c9 \u03c4\u03b9\u03bc\u1f70\u03c2 \u03bd\u03ad\u03bc\u03b5\u03b9\u03bd.\n\n[251] Dr. Verrall (_Introduction_ to his edition, pp. xxxii, xxxiii)\nexplains the reconciliation of the Furies as the result of a mystic\nrevelation conveyed not in words but through a kind of spiritual\nmagnetism exercised by Athena when she draws near to them at v. 886 (he\nnotes the break in syntax at this point); such an influence could not be\nshown forth in words\u2014it is too sacred and mysterious. But if a poet does\nundertake to dramatize the truths of religion, he must do so in dramatic\nform; he ought not suddenly to throw up his task. Several places in\n\u00c6schylus can be found where he does put such ideas into words.\n\n[252] This appears to me certain from Athena\u2019s language to the court, but\nthe reader should not suppose that the Furies say so definitely; they\nacquiesce.\n\n[253] vv. 696-8.\n\n[254] This vital point is admirably demonstrated by Dr. Verrall on v.\n1046.\n\n[255] This number is not certain. It is probably an under-statement.\n\n[256] \u03c0\u03bf\u03b4\u03b1\u03c0\u1f78\u03c2 \u1f41 \u03b3\u03cd\u03bd\u03bd\u03b9\u03c2;\n\n[257] \u1f10\u03bd\u03b8\u03bf\u03c5\u03c3\u03b9\u1fb7 \u03b4\u1f74 \u03b4\u1ff6\u03bc\u03b1, \u03b2\u03b1\u03ba\u03c7\u03b5\u03cd\u03b5\u03b9 \u03c3\u03c4\u03ad\u03b3\u03b7.\n\n[258] \u03b2\u03c1\u1fe6\u03c4\u03bf\u03bd.\n\n[259] _On the death of Kirk-White_: \u201c\u2019Twas thine own genius gave the\nfatal blow,\u201d etc. The fiery verse, \u1f45\u03c0\u03bb\u03c9\u03bd \u1f45\u03c0\u03bb\u03c9\u03bd \u03b4\u03b5\u1fd6\u00b7 \u03bc\u1f74 \u03c0\u03cd\u03b8\u1fc3 \u03c4\u1f78 \u03b4\u03b5\u03cd\u03c4\u03b5\u03c1\u03bf\u03bd,\nrecalls the famous line: \u201cA horse, a horse! My kingdom for a horse!\u201d\n\n[260] _Frogs_, 911-3.\n\n[261] Meineke, II, p. 1177.\n\n[262]\n\n                      \u03bf\u1f31 \u03b8\u03b5\u1ff6\u03bd \u1f00\u03b3\u03c7\u03af\u03c3\u03c0\u03bf\u03c1\u03bf\u03b9\n    \u03bf\u1f31 \u0396\u03b7\u03bd\u1f78\u03c2 \u1f10\u03b3\u03b3\u03cd\u03c2 \u1f67\u03bd \u03ba\u03b1\u03c4\u2019 \u1f38\u03b4\u03b1\u1fd6\u03bf\u03bd \u03c0\u03ac\u03b3\u03bf\u03bd\n    \u0394\u03b9\u1f78\u03c2 \u03c0\u03b1\u03c4\u03c1\u1ff4\u03bf\u03c5 \u03b2\u03c9\u03bc\u03cc\u03c2 \u1f10\u03c3\u03c4\u2019 \u1f10\u03bd \u03b1\u1f30\u03b8\u03ad\u03c1\u03b9,\n    \u03ba\u03bf\u1f54\u03c0\u03c9 \u03c3\u03c6\u03b9\u03bd \u1f10\u03be\u03af\u03c4\u03b7\u03bb\u03bf\u03bd \u03b1\u1f37\u03bc\u03b1 \u03b4\u03b1\u03b9\u03bc\u03cc\u03bd\u03c9\u03bd.\n\nCp. Plato, _Republic_, 391 E.\n\n[263] _Oration_ 52.\n\n[264] Only one has survived, that of Sophocles.\n\n[265] _Titus Andronicus_, II, i. 5-7.\n\n[266] _Frogs_, 924-5.\n\n[267] _Ag._ 494-5. In spite of Dr. Verrall\u2019s ingenious remarks, it seems\nbest to take this phrase in the traditional way, as a mere extravagance.\n\n[268] _P.V._ 170.\n\n[269] _Septem_, 493-4.\n\n[270] _Choeph._ 451-2.\n\n[271] _Eum._ 137-8.\n\n[272] _Frogs_, 1261-95.\n\n[273] _Suppl._ 836-7. I see no reason for supposing that the Greek is\ndefective.\n\n[274] _Ibid._ 12.\n\n[275] _Ibid._ 608.\n\n[276] _Pers\u00e6_, 115.\n\n[277] _Ibid._ 346.\n\n[278] _Pers\u00e6_ 395.\n\n[279] _Ibid._ 815.\n\n[280] _Septem_, 593.\n\n[281] _P.V._ 89-90.\n\n[282] _Ibid._ 993.\n\n[283] _Ag._ 1434.\n\n[284] _Choeph._ 647.\n\n[285] _Eum._ 694.\n\n[286] Haigh, _Tragic Drama_, pp. 82 _sq._\n\n[287] _Frogs_, 932.\n\n[288] Professor Gilbert Murray, _Literature of Ancient Greece_, p. 217.\n\n[289] vv. 908 _sqq._\n\n[290] Frogs, 1119 _sqq._\n\n[291] Dr. Verrall\u2019s theory is still, I believe, accepted only by a\nminority.\n\n[292] _P.V._ vv. 350-2.\n\n[293] _Danaides._\n\n[294] Cp. _Septem_, 592-4 (Aristides), _P.V._ 1068 (Themistocles), and\nthe references to the Areopagus (vv. 681-710) and to the Athenian Empire\n(vv. 398-401) in the _Eumenides_.\n\n[295] _Choeph._ 313 _sq._: \u03b4\u03c1\u03ac\u03c3\u03b1\u03bd\u03c4\u03b9 \u03c0\u03b1\u03b8\u03b5\u1fd6\u03bd, \u03c4\u03c1\u03b9\u03b3\u03ad\u03c1\u03c9\u03bd \u03bc\u1fe6\u03b8\u03bf\u03c2 \u03c4\u03ac\u03b4\u03b5 \u03c6\u03c9\u03bd\u03b5\u1fd6.\n\n[296] _Ag._ 750-7.\n\n[297] _Septem_, 689-91.\n\n[298] _Choeph._ 1076.\n\n[299] \u00c6schylus never worked himself entirely free from this savage\nconception of sin as a material defilement. Orestes, among the proofs\nthat he has expiated his offence, mentions the use of swine\u2019s blood as a\ncleansing power (_Eum._ v. 283).\n\n[300] See Dr. Verrall\u2019s discussion of the prologue to the _Eumenides_,\n_Euripides the Rationalist_, pp. 220-4.\n\n[301] _Eum._ vv. 640-51.\n\n[302] _Arrangement_: protagonist, Ajax, Teucer (Ajax, when dead, is\nrepresented by a lay figure); deuteragonist, Odysseus, Tecmessa;\ntritagonist, Athena, messenger, Menelaus, Agamemnon.\n\n[303] For the arguments see Jebb\u2019s _Introduction_ (pp. li-liv) to the\n_Ajax_. He thinks _Antigone_ the earlier.\n\n[304] vv. 520-1: \u201cNay, have thought even of me. A man should sure be\nmindful of any joy that hath been his.\u201d But of course the quality spoken\nof evaporates in such a \u201ctranslation\u201d.\n\n[305] In the address to his child he throws a half-line to the mother\n(v. 559) and at the beginning of his disguised farewell to the chorus he\nexpresses pity for Tecmessa (vv. 650-3), but there is nothing to show\nthat this is not feigned, like his implied renunciation of suicide.\n\n[306] See Jebb\u2019s _Introduction_ to the play (pp. xxviii-xxxii).\n\n[307] The _arrangement_ is uncertain. Jebb gives, protagonist: Antigone,\nTiresias, Eurydice; deuteragonist: Ismene, guard, H\u00e6mon, the messengers;\ntritagonist: Creon. Croiset gives, protagonist: Antigone, H\u00e6mon;\ndeuteragonist: Ismene, guard, Tiresias, messengers; tritagonist: Creon,\nEurydice.\n\n[308] vv. 904-12. See Jebb\u2019s discussion in his _Appendix_.\n\n[309] vv. 450-70.\n\n[310] _Rhetoric_, III, xvi. 9.\n\n[311] Jebb\u2019s _Introduction_, pp. xvii-xx.\n\n[312] See pp. 8, 15.\n\n[313] _Arrangement_ probably: protagonist, Electra; deuteragonist,\nOrestes and Clyt\u00e6mnestra; tritagonist, P\u00e6dagogus, Chrysothemis, \u00c6gisthus.\n\n[314] Jebb, however, gives substantial reasons for putting it later. See\nhis _Introduction_, pp. lvi-lviii.\n\n[315] vv. 1424-5.\n\n[316] _Choeph._ 1075-6 (Verrall\u2019s translation).\n\n[317] vv. 1508 _sqq._ (Jebb\u2019s translation).\n\n[318] vv. 616-21.\n\n[319] This seems a fair deduction, not only from the whole situation, but\nfrom the pause after \u0391\u1f34\u03b3\u03b9\u03c3\u03b8\u03bf\u03bd in v. 957; also perhaps from the emphatic\n\u1f10\u03bc\u03bf\u03af of v. 974. Cp. also 582 _sqq._ and especially the comment of the\nchorus in v. 1080 (\u03b4\u03b9\u03b4\u03cd\u03bc\u03b1\u03bd \u1f11\u03bb\u03bf\u1fe6\u03c3\u2019 \u1f18\u03c1\u03b9\u03bd\u03cd\u03bd).\n\n[320] vv. 1331-3.\n\n[321] _Arrangement_: protagonist, \u0152dipus; deuteragonist, Priest, Jocasta,\nservant of Laius; tritagonist, Creon, Tiresias, the two messengers.\n\n[322] vv. 774 _sqq._\n\n[323] It is true that when the prophet mentions the parents of \u0152dipus\nquite definitely (v. 436) the king is startled. But this is one point\nonly. All the other remarks of Tiresias are ignored.\n\n[324] See Aristotle, _Poetic_, 1454_b_.\n\n[325] vv. 130-1.\n\n[326] See pp. 127-8.\n\n[327] vv. 124-5.\n\n[328] The entry of Fortinbras at the end of _Hamlet_ is closely similar.\nPerhaps it is fear of anti-climax which causes producers nowadays to omit\nthis finale.\n\n[329] Note his preciosity, vv. 942, 959, 1028.\n\n[330] He first (v. 1026) says that he found the infant \u0152dipus; only later\n(1038) does he admit that another man has been concerned.\n\n[331] vv. 758-64.\n\n[332] vv. 1117-8.\n\n[333] v. 1141.\n\n[334] _Arrangement_: protagonist, Deianira, Heracles; deuteragonist,\nHyllus, Lichas; tritagonist, nurse, messenger, old man.\n\n[335] See Jebb\u2019s _Introduction_, pp. xxxviii _sq._\n\n[336] vv. 575-7 (Jebb\u2019s translation).\n\n[337] vv. 547-9.\n\n[338] These remarks are not vitiated by the fact (see Jebb on v. 1224)\nthat legend wedded Iole to Hyllus. If the command of Heracles is as\nobjectionable as Jebb appears to think, why did Sophocles go out of his\nway to cause the hero himself, instead of some other, to enjoin the\nmarriage?\n\n[339] vv. 719 _sq._\n\n[340] This accounts also for the absurd behaviour of the nurse (vv. 927\n_sq._) who instead of interfering hastens away to Hyllus, entirely unlike\nother such women in tragedy.\n\n[341] See the speech of Lichas (vv. 248-86).\n\n[342] Deianira\u2019s plan, moreover, reads like a sort of dilution of\nMedea\u2019s, and her last moments (vv. 900-22) recall the description in the\n_Alcestis_ (vv. 158-84).\n\n[343] v. 427. Cp. Eur. _Helena_, 567: \u03c0\u03bf\u03af\u03b1\u03c2 \u03b4\u03ac\u03bc\u03b1\u03c1\u03c4\u03bf\u03c2;\n\n[344] Jebb points out that _Trach._ 416 and _Supplices_ 567 are\npractically identical.\n\n[345] v. 1140.\n\n[346] 268.\n\n[347] vv. 9-14.\n\n[348] That even the equable Sophocles did on occasion embody criticism\nof other playwrights in his works is shown by such passages as _Electra_\n1288 _sqq._, _\u0152d Col._ 1148-9.\n\n[349] _Arrangement_: protagonist, Philoctetes; deuteragonist,\nNeoptolemus; tritagonist, Odysseus, merchant, Heracles.\n\n[350] vv. 1007-15.\n\n[351] _E.g._ Mahaffy (_History of Gk. Lit., Poets_, pp. 309-12).\n\n[352] Christ (_Geschichte der Gr. Lit._ p. 210) who compares Heracles\nhere to the \u03b4\u03b1\u03b9\u03bc\u03cc\u03bd\u03b9\u03bf\u03bd \u03c3\u03b7\u03bc\u03b5\u1fd6\u03bf\u03bd of Socrates.\n\n[353] K. O. M\u00fcller (_Gr. Lit._, ii. p. 124) who is opposed by Bernhardy\n(II, ii. p. 370).\n\n[354] vv. 1404 _sqq._\n\n[355] When he threatens to shoot Odysseus (vv. 1299 _sqq._).\n\n[356] v. 670: \u03b5\u1f50\u03b5\u03c1\u03b3\u03b5\u03c4\u1ff6\u03bd \u03b3\u1f70\u03c1 \u03ba\u03b1\u1f50\u03c4\u1f78\u03c2 \u03b1\u1f54\u03c4\u2019 \u1f10\u03ba\u03c4\u03b7\u03c3\u03ac\u03bc\u03b7\u03bd.\n\n[357] See Jebb\u2019s 2nd edition (p. xxvii with footnote).\n\n[358] _Or._ 52.\n\n[359] vv. 936 _sqq._, 987 _sq._, etc.\n\n[360] vv. 187-90 (Jebb\u2019s reading and translation).\n\n[361] v. 1455.\n\n[362] vv. 282-4. Notice also the phrase \u03be\u1f7a\u03bd \u1f97 (v. 268) used of his malady.\n\n[363] Jebb (_Introd._ pp. xl, xli, 2nd ed.) seems unwilling to allow any\ndirect allusions. But see vv. 385 _sqq._, 456 _sqq._, and particularly\n1035 _sqq._; all three passages show a peculiar emphasis; vv. 1047-51 are\nquite in the tone of Thucydides\u2019 \u201cMelian dialogue\u201d.\n\n[364] The _arrangement_ of the parts is not certain. But the important\nfact seems clear that a fourth actor was here used not tentatively (as\nin other cases) but in a very remarkable degree. Jebb gives: protagonist,\n\u0152dipus; deuteragonist, Antigone; tritagonist, Ismene and Creon; fourth\nactor, \u201cStranger,\u201d Theseus, Polynices, messenger. Croiset: protagonist,\n\u0152dipus; deuteragonist, Antigone; fourth actor, Theseus; all the other\nparts to the tritagonist.\n\n[365] Creon, vv. 854 _sq._; Antigone, v. 1195.\n\n[366] v. 106.\n\n[367] vv. 1563 _sq._ The same word recurs in Antigone\u2019s lament (v. 1682):\n\u1f04\u03c3\u03ba\u03bf\u03c0\u03bf\u03b9 \u03b4\u1f72 \u03c0\u03bb\u03ac\u03ba\u03b5\u03c2 \u1f14\u03bc\u03b1\u03c1\u03c8\u03b1\u03bd.\n\n[368] Note specially the word \u03c4\u03bf\u1f50\u03c0\u03b9\u03b5\u03b9\u03ba\u03ad\u03c2 (v. 1127) though the idea is of\ncourse expressed by the whole play.\n\n[369] vv. 670-80 (Jebb\u2019s version).\n\n[370] See below, p. 185.\n\n[371] \u03c3\u03bc\u03b9\u03ba\u03c1\u1f78\u03c2 \u03bb\u03cc\u03b3\u03bf\u03c2 four times (vv. 569, 620, 1116, 1152), \u03c3\u03bc\u03b9\u03ba\u03c1\u1f78\u03bd \u1f14\u03c0\u03bf\u03c2\nonce (v. 443), and \u1f13\u03bd \u03bc\u03cc\u03bd\u03bf\u03bd \u1f14\u03c0\u03bf\u03c2 once (v. 1615 _sqq._). Dr. Mackail\n(_Lectures on Greek Poetry_, p. 150) has indicated this point. See also\n_Electra_, 415.\n\n[372] vv. 670 _sqq._: The parallel I owe to Jebb\u2019s note.\n\n[373] vv. 1503 _sq._\n\n[374] _King Lear_, III, iv.\n\n[375] vv. 1627 _sq._ Cp. 1 Sam. iii. 10.\n\n[376] Deut. xxxiv. 6.\n\n[377] Heb. xi. 22.\n\n[378] vv. 62 _sq._: \u201cSuch ... are these haunts, not honoured in story,\nbut rather in the life that loves them\u201d (Jebb).\n\n[379] v. 472.\n\n[380] v. 506.\n\n[381] vv. 964 _sq._\n\n[382] vv. 1422-5.\n\n[383] See Jebb, _Introduction_, pp. xxi _sq._\n\n[384] See his splendid exculpatory speeches to the chorus (vv. 258-91)\nand to Creon (vv. 960-1013).\n\n[385] See pp. 10, 12 _sq._\n\n[386] _Ad Quintum Fratrem_, II, xv. 3.\n\n[387] Fr. 344: \u03c0\u03cc\u03bd\u03bf\u03c5 \u03bc\u03b5\u03c4\u03b1\u03bb\u03bb\u03b1\u03c7\u03b8\u03ad\u03bd\u03c4\u03bf\u03c2 \u03bf\u1f31 \u03c0\u03cc\u03bd\u03bf\u03b9 \u03b3\u03bb\u03c5\u03ba\u03b5\u1fd6\u03c2, and fr. 345: \u03bc\u03cc\u03c7\u03b8\u03bf\u03c5\n\u03b3\u1f70\u03c1 \u03bf\u1f50\u03b4\u03b5\u1f76\u03c2 \u03c4\u03bf\u1fe6 \u03c0\u03b1\u03c1\u03b5\u03bb\u03b8\u03cc\u03bd\u03c4\u03bf\u03c2 \u03bb\u03cc\u03b3\u03bf\u03c2; recall _\u00c6neid_, I, 203: _forsan et haec\nolim meminisse iuuabit_.\n\n[388] _De Subl._ XV, 7: \u1f04\u03ba\u03c1\u03c9\u03c2 \u03c0\u03b5\u03c6\u03ac\u03bd\u03c4\u03b1\u03c3\u03c4\u03b1\u03b9.\n\n[389] For the Recognition-scene of this play, cp. Aristotle, _Poetic_,\n1454_b_.\n\n[390] _Birds_, vv. 100 _sqq._\n\n[391] These have been published and annotated by Dr. A. S. Hunt (who,\nwith Dr. B. P. Grenfell, discovered these and so many other precious\nremains) in Vol. IX of the _Oxyrhynchus Papyri_.\n\n[392] Welcker thought that the wanderings of Europa formed the subject.\n\n[393] The word \u1fe5\u03bf\u1fd6\u03b2\u03b4\u03bf\u03c2 is inserted as a stage-direction (\u03c0\u03b1\u03c1\u03b5\u03c0\u03b9\u03b3\u03c1\u03b1\u03c6\u03ae). It\nno doubt means that the babe Hermes is playing his lyre \u201cwithin\u201d.\n\n[394] The passage is amusing: \u03c7\u03b1\u03af\u03c1\u03b5\u03b9 \u1f00\u03bb\u03cd\u03c9\u03bd, \u201che is in a rapture of joy,\u201d\nis an excellent phrase for this earliest of _maestri_; but, as Dr. Hunt\nremarks, his audience of one (Cyllene) seems not to share his ecstasy:\n\u03c0\u03b1\u03c1\u03b1\u03c8\u03c5\u03ba\u03c4\u03ae\u03c1\u03b9\u03bf\u03bd \u03ba\u03b5\u03af\u03bd\u1ff3 \u03bc\u03cc\u03bd\u03bf\u03bd.\n\n[395] The name is not certain. All that can be asserted is that the\ntragedy dealt with Eurypylus\u2019 death, in defence of Troy, at the hands of\nNeoptolemus.\n\n[396] See pp. 15-17.\n\n[397] See _e.g._ the remarks in Creon\u2019s opening speech (_Ant._ vv.\n175-90).\n\n[398] _O.T._ 587-8:\n\n    \u1f10\u03b3\u1f7c \u03bc\u1f72\u03bd \u03bf\u1f56\u03bd \u03bf\u1f54\u03c4\u2019 \u03b1\u1f50\u03c4\u1f78\u03c2 \u1f31\u03bc\u03b5\u03af\u03c1\u03c9\u03bd \u1f14\u03c6\u03c5\u03bd\n    \u03c4\u03cd\u03c1\u03b1\u03bd\u03bd\u03bf\u03c2 \u03b5\u1f36\u03bd\u03b1\u03b9 \u03bc\u1fb6\u03bb\u03bb\u03bf\u03bd \u1f22 \u03c4\u03cd\u03c1\u03b1\u03bd\u03bd\u03b1 \u03b4\u03c1\u1fb6\u03bd.\n\n[399] _Electra_, vv. 328 _sqq._\n\n[400] See p. 16.\n\n[401] _Electra_, 303-16.\n\n[402] For this and other metrical terms which follow see Chapter VI.\n\n[403] There are no less than thirty iambic lines thus divided. The name\nfor such division is \u1f00\u03bd\u03c4\u03b9\u03bb\u03b1\u03b2\u03ae.\n\n[404] _Phil._ vv. 287-92.\n\n[405] _O.C._ 1697, translated by Jebb: \u201cAh, so care past can seem lost\njoy!\u201d\n\n[406] _Electra_, 1165 _sq._\n\n[407] Dr. J. W. Mackail (_Lectures on Greek Poetry_, p. 150 _sq._) has\ndescribed these lines with brilliant aptness. \u201cThe language is so simple,\nso apparently unconscious and artless, that its overwhelming effect makes\none gasp: it is like hearing human language uttered, and raised to a new\nand incredible power, by the lips of some one more than human.\u201d\n\n[408] _O.C._ 607 _sqq._ The wonderful version of these first few fines is\nby Professor Gilbert Murray.\n\n[409] _Ajax_, 815 _sqq._\n\n[410] _O.C._ 1586 _sqq._\n\n[411] This figure includes the _Rhesus_, the authenticity of which is not\ncertain.\n\n[412] It is almost certain that only two actors were employed, Alcestis\nbeing mute in the last scene (_i.e._ the character was apparently\nborne by a supernumerary, not the actor who had delivered her earlier\nspeeches), and the few lines of the child Eumelos being sung by a\nchorister. Croiset suggests: protagonist, Apollo, Alcestis, Heracles,\nPheres; deuteragonist, Thanatos, maidservant, Admetus, attendant.\n\n[413] The true explanation, as Dr. Hayley points out, is that the two\nactors are already engaged (as A. and H.) so that the queen is presented\nby a mute. I cannot, however, agree that this is \u201ca clumsy device\u201d.\nAdmetus deserved some modification of his delight; we may, moreover,\nfeel that Alcestis would not wish to show precipitation in greeting the\nhusband who had interred her with such strange promptitude.\n\n[414] The celebrated \u201ctag\u201d beginning \u03c0\u03bf\u03bb\u03bb\u03b1\u1f76 \u03bc\u03bf\u03c1\u03c6\u03b1\u1f76 \u03c4\u1ff6\u03bd \u03b4\u03b1\u03b9\u03bc\u03bf\u03bd\u03af\u03c9\u03bd (vv.\n1159-63), which is found also at the close of _Medea_ (practically),\n_Helena_, _Andromache_, and _Bacch\u00e6_.\n\n[415] There are no satyrs and no indecency of language.\n\n[416] _E.g._ v. 58: \u03c0\u1ff6\u03c2 \u03b5\u1f36\u03c0\u03b1\u03c2; \u1f00\u03bb\u03bb\u2019 \u1f26 \u03ba\u03b1\u1f76 \u03c3\u03bf\u03c6\u1f78\u03c2 \u03bb\u03ad\u03bb\u03b7\u03b8\u03b1\u03c2 \u1f64\u03bd; \u201cWhat! _you_\namong the philosophers!\u201d\n\n[417] The late Dr. A. W. Verrall\u2019s brilliant theory of this play it will\nbe better to discuss later (see pp. 190 _sq._).\n\n[418] vv. 763 _sq._\n\n[419] vv. 280-325.\n\n[420] _Euripides the Rationalist_, pp. 1-128.\n\n[421] The hurried obsequies probably do not fall into this category. We\nare almost certainly to assume that as Alcestis\u2019 sacrifice is to be made\non a certain day, that day must see her not only expire, but actually\ndelivered up to the power of death. See Dr. H. W. Hayley\u2019s _Introduction_\nto the play (pp. xxxi _sq._) and my _Riddle of the Bacch\u00e6_, pp. 143 _sq._\n\n[422] I cannot write with decision about the _Alcestis_, because on the\none hand universal testimony and opinion date it as only seven years\nanterior to the _Medea_, while my own instinct would put it quite twenty\nyears earlier than that play. To me it reads essentially like the work of\na young but highly-gifted playwright who has recently lost his wife.\n\n[423] These celebrated lines (vv. 230-51) are not in character. They form\na splendid and moving criticism of the attitude adopted by the poet\u2019s\nown Athenian contemporaries towards women, but have only a very partial\napplication to herself.\n\n[424] (i) In vv. 1231-5, there is a very clear dittography. That is,\neither 1231-2, or 1233-5 would serve excellently as a speech of the\nchorus-leader; but it is unlikely that the poet meant both to be used;\n(ii) vv. 1236-50 read like another and far shorter version of the great\nsoliloquy 1021-80; (iii) it seems odd that Medea, after finally gaining\ncourage to slay her children, should before doing so, be seen again\nand join in conversations; (iv) vv. 1375-7 give the impression (as Dr.\nVerrall has pointed out) that the play is to end, not as it does, but\nwith some kind of arrangement between Medea and Jason; (v) one or two\nancient quotations purporting to come from this play are not to be found\nin our texts.\n\n[425] See pp. 21 _sq._\n\n[426] v. 389 _sqq._\n\n[427] _Poetic_, 1454_b_.\n\n[428] _Four Plays of Euripides_, pp. 125-30.\n\n[429] vv. 1381-3.\n\n[430] v. 472: \u1f00\u03bd\u03b1\u03af\u03b4\u03b5\u03b9\u03b1.\n\n[431] v. 364: \u03ba\u03b1\u03ba\u1ff6\u03c2 \u03c0\u03ad\u03c0\u03c1\u03b1\u03ba\u03c4\u03b1\u03b9 \u03c0\u03b1\u03bd\u03c4\u03b1\u03c7\u1fc7\u00b7 \u03c4\u03af\u03c2 \u1f00\u03bd\u03c4\u03b5\u03c1\u03b5\u1fd6;\n\n[432] vv. 801 _sq._\n\n[433] v. 450.\n\n[434] v. 1367.\n\n[435] vv. 944 _sq._ Two MSS., however (followed by Murray), give the\nsecond line to Medea.\n\n[436] v. 349: \u03b1\u1f30\u03b4\u03bf\u03cd\u03bc\u03b5\u03bd\u03bf\u03c2 \u03b4\u1f72 \u03c0\u03bf\u03bb\u03bb\u1f70 \u03b4\u1f74 \u03b4\u03b9\u03ad\u03c6\u03b8\u03bf\u03c1\u03b1.\n\n[437] vv. 309 _sq._\n\n[438] v. 454.\n\n[439] vv. 930 _sq._\n\n[440] vv. 824-45.\n\n[441] vv. 1081-1115.\n\n[442] _Arrangement_: protagonist, Iolaus, Eurystheus; deuteragonist,\nDemophon, Alcmena; tritagonist, Copreus, Macaria, attendant, messenger.\nThere were a great number of mutes: Acamas, the sons of Heracles, and\nprobably some Athenian soldiers.\n\n[443] It has only 1055 lines, but there are probably gaps in our text.\n\n[444] This name is not mentioned by Euripides. The scholiasts have taken\nit from _Iliad_, XV, 639.\n\n[445] In the Peloponnesian war. The Spartans were believed the\ndescendants of Hyllus and his brothers.\n\n[446] Professor Murray, however, supposes another lacuna here, and thinks\nthere were two semi-choruses, one party supporting Alcmena, the other\ndisagreeing.\n\n[447] Even in ancient times it seems to have enjoyed little attention.\n\n[448] v. 638.\n\n[449] v. 625.\n\n[450] vv. 9 _sq._, 540.\n\n[451] vv. 869 _sqq._\n\n[452] vv. 910 _sqq._\n\n[453] Down to v. 847 his story contains nothing superhuman. Then \u201cup\nto this point I saw with mine own eyes; the rest of my tale depends on\nhearsay,\u201d \u03c4\u1f00\u03c0\u1f78 \u03c4\u03bf\u1fe6\u03b4\u2019 \u1f24\u03b4\u03b7 \u03ba\u03bb\u03cd\u03c9\u03bd \u03bb\u03ad\u03b3\u03bf\u03b9\u03bc\u2019 \u1f02\u03bd \u1f04\u03bb\u03bb\u03c9\u03bd, \u03b4\u03b5\u1fe6\u03c1\u03bf \u03b4\u2019 \u03b1\u1f50\u03c4\u1f78\u03c2 \u03b5\u1f30\u03c3\u03b9\u03b4\u03ce\u03bd\u00b7\nAnd when he mentions the identification of the miraculous lights with\nHebe and Heracles, he attributes the theory to \u03bf\u1f31 \u03c3\u03bf\u03c6\u03ce\u03c4\u03b5\u03c1\u03bf\u03b9, \u201ccleverer\nheads than mine,\u201d as we may translate it.\n\n[454] The oracle has demanded the daughter of \u201ca well-born father,\u201d and\nshe of course mentions her own qualification in this respect, without\nproceeding to dilate (as one would think inevitable in Euripides\u2014or\nanyone else) on the quite unrivalled \u201cnobility\u201d of her father.\n\n[455] vv. 513, 563.\n\n[456] _Hercules Furens_, vv. 151-64.\n\n[457] vv. 997-9; v. 990, referring to the hostility of Hera, is too vague\nto stand as a warrant for the divine birth of Heracles.\n\n[458] vv. 240 _sq._\n\n[459] It has been thought that vv. 819-22 indicate the sacrifice of the\nmaiden. They describe the soothsayers\u2019 offering just before the battle:\n\u1f00\u03c6\u03af\u03b5\u03c3\u03b1\u03bd \u03bb\u03b1\u03b9\u03bc\u1ff6\u03bd \u03b2\u03c1\u03bf\u03c4\u03b5\u03af\u03c9\u03bd \u03b5\u1f50\u03b8\u1f7a\u03c2 \u03bf\u1f54\u03c1\u03b9\u03bf\u03bd \u03c6\u03cc\u03bd\u03bf\u03bd. If \u03b2\u03c1\u03bf\u03c4\u03b5\u03af\u03c9\u03bd is right (though\n\u03b2\u03bf\u03c4\u03b5\u03af\u03c9\u03bd, \u201cof sheep,\u201d is a tempting alteration) the reference to the\ngirl\u2019s heroism is brutally curt.\n\n[460] vv. 597 _sqq._\n\n[461] There is, however, in vv. 45-7 an isolated statement which vaguely\ncontradicts this.\n\n[462] Her remark on hearing the news (v. 665): \u03c4\u03bf\u1fe6\u03b4\u2019 \u03bf\u1f50\u03ba\u03ad\u03b8\u2019 \u1f21\u03bc\u1fd6\u03bd \u03c4\u03bf\u1fe6\n\u03bb\u03cc\u03b3\u03bf\u03c5 \u03bc\u03ad\u03c4\u03b5\u03c3\u03c4\u03b9 \u03b4\u03ae, sets the seal upon her utter feebleness of mind.\n\n[463] vv. 1035-7.\n\n[464] vv. 1049-52 and elsewhere in the last scene.\n\n[465] vv. 1020-5.\n\n[466] _Arrangement_ (according to Croiset): protagonist, Hippolytus;\ndeuteragonist, Aphrodite, Ph\u00e6dra, Theseus (the body of Ph\u00e6dra being\nrepresented by a lay-figure); tritagonist, Artemis, servant (who\nannounces the suicide), nurse, messenger.\n\n[467] This additional name (_The Crowned H._) was given to distinguish\nthe play from the earlier \u1f39\u03c0\u03c0\u03cc\u03bb\u03c5\u03c4\u03bf\u03c2 \u039a\u03b1\u03bb\u03c5\u03c0\u03c4\u03cc\u03bc\u03b5\u03bd\u03bf\u03c2 (now lost), or\n_Hippolytus Veiled_.\n\n[468] vv. 73-87.\n\n[469] vv. 121-5.\n\n[470] vv. 208-31. Cp. vv. 219-21 with vv. 1375 _sq._\n\n[471] vv. 732-51.\n\n[472] vv. 828-9.\n\n[473] vv. 1423-30.\n\n[474] vv. 616-68. He seems to begin listening to the sound of his own\nvoice at v. 654.\n\n[475] vv. 728-31.\n\n[476] vv. 831-3. Hippolytus agrees, vv. 1379-83.\n\n[477] vv. 967-9, where note the emphatic \u1f10\u03b3\u03ce. And the word \u03bd\u03cc\u03b8\u03bf\u03c2 is\nfrequent in the play; see especially Hippolytus\u2019 exclamation in vv.\n1082-3, which, by a finely dramatic stroke, immediately turns Theseus\u2019\nanger to hot fury.\n\n[478] vv. 337-41.\n\n[479] Professor Murray.\n\n[480] vv. 29-33.\n\n[481] Cp. vv. 490 _sq._\n\n[482] vv. 191-7 (Professor Murray\u2019s translation).\n\n[483] vv. 439-61.\n\n[484] Cp. vv. 474 _sq._:\u2014\n\n    \u03bb\u1fc6\u03be\u03bf\u03bd \u03b4\u2019 \u1f51\u03b2\u03c1\u03af\u03b6\u03bf\u03c5\u03c3\u2019\u00b7 \u03bf\u1f50 \u03b3\u1f70\u03c1 \u1f04\u03bb\u03bb\u03bf \u03c0\u03bb\u1f74\u03bd \u1f55\u03b2\u03c1\u03b9\u03c2\n    \u03c4\u03ac\u03b4\u2019 \u1f10\u03c3\u03c4\u03af, \u03ba\u03c1\u03b5\u03af\u03c3\u03c3\u03c9 \u03b4\u03b1\u03b9\u03bc\u03cc\u03bd\u03c9\u03bd \u03b5\u1f36\u03bd\u03b1\u03b9 \u03b8\u03ad\u03bb\u03b5\u03b9\u03bd.\n\n[485] vv. 493-6.\n\n[486] vv. 507 _sq._\n\n[487] vv. 1034 _sq._\n\n[488] vv. 415 _sqq._ Compare her whole attitude. Indeed the poet\nsuggests, as at any rate a collateral reason for her destruction of\nHippolytus, a fear that he will reveal her secret (vv. 689-92).\n\n[489] vv. 373-430.\n\n[490] _Agamemnon_, vv. 160-83.\n\n[491] In the first edition of the play, to which it seems that most of\nthe ancient strictures apply.\n\n[492] vv. 135-40.\n\n[493] v. 384: \u03c4\u03b5\u03c1\u03c0\u03bd\u1f78\u03bd \u03ba\u03b1\u03ba\u03cc\u03bd.\n\n[494] v. 281: \u1f14\u03ba\u03b4\u03b7\u03bc\u03bf\u03c2 \u1f66\u03bd \u03b3\u1f70\u03c1 \u03c4\u1fc6\u03c3\u03b4\u03b5 \u03c4\u03c5\u03b3\u03c7\u03ac\u03bd\u03b5\u03b9 \u03c7\u03b8\u03bf\u03bd\u03cc\u03c2.\n\n[495] v. 384: \u03bc\u03b1\u03ba\u03c1\u03b1\u03af \u03c4\u03b5 \u03bb\u03ad\u03c3\u03c7\u03b1\u03b9 \u03ba\u03b1\u1f76 \u03c3\u03c7\u03bf\u03bb\u03ae, \u03c4\u03b5\u03c1\u03c0\u03bd\u1f78\u03bd \u03ba\u03b1\u03ba\u03cc\u03bd.\n\n[496] vv. 337, _sqq._\n\n[497] v. 328, etc.\n\n[498] vv. 503-6.\n\n[499] v. 512.\n\n[500] See Professor Murray\u2019s admirable remarks (p. 81 of his translation).\n\n[501] In the trivial question, v. 516: \u03c0\u03cc\u03c4\u03b5\u03c1\u03b1 \u03b4\u1f72 \u03c7\u03c1\u03b9\u03c3\u03c4\u1f78\u03bd \u1f22 \u03c0\u03bf\u03c4\u1f78\u03bd \u03c4\u1f78\n\u03c6\u03ac\u03c1\u03bc\u03b1\u03ba\u03bf\u03bd; she is dangerously toying with the proposal. The nurse\u2019s reply\nis a half-quaint, half-heartbreaking quotation from childish days when\nthe little Ph\u00e6dra was querulous with her \u201cmedicine\u201d as now: \u1f44\u03bd\u03b1\u03c3\u03b8\u03b1\u03b9, \u03bc\u1f74\n\u03bc\u03b1\u03b8\u03b5\u1fd6\u03bd, \u03b2\u03bf\u03cd\u03bb\u03b5\u03b9, \u03c4\u03ad\u03ba\u03bd\u03bf\u03bd.\n\n[502] We notice incidentally the amazing dexterity shown by the line\n(565) in which she announces her discovery: \u03c3\u03b9\u03b3\u03ae\u03c3\u03b1\u03c4\u2019, \u1f66 \u03b3\u03c5\u03bd\u03b1\u1fd6\u03ba\u03b5\u03c2,\n\u1f10\u03be\u03b5\u03b9\u03c1\u03b3\u03ac\u03c3\u03bc\u03b5\u03b8\u03b1. It is a perfectly clear piece of Greek; it is also a series\nof gasps.\n\n[503] v. 1035.\n\n[504] See the Greek _Argument_.\n\n[505] In our play the poet leaves his heroine silent on this topic, but\nhints it himself for us. See vv. 151-54, 967-70.\n\n[506] _Frogs_, 1041; _Thesm._ 497, 547.\n\n[507] _Frogs_, 101, 1467; _Thesm._ 275-6.\n\n[508] _Hipp._ 612.\n\n[509] vv. 960 _sq._, 1076 _sq._\n\n[510] vv. 1060-3.\n\n[511] Aristophanes in the _Clouds_ (v. 1165 _sq._) parodies vv. 174 _sq._\nThe _Clouds_ was produced in 423 B.C. In _Hecuba_, v. 462, reference\nseems to be made to the re-establishment of the Delian festival in 426\nB.C.\n\n[512] Its popularity in Byzantine times is no bar to this statement.\nProbably all the three plays, _Hecuba_, _Ph\u0153niss\u00e6_, and _Orestes_, were\nchosen because the Greek was comparatively easy. Euripides was already\nsufficiently ancient to make this an important consideration.\n\nMiss L. E. Matthaei\u2019s essay should, however, be read (_Studies in Greek\nTragedy_, pp. 118-57). With admirable insight and skill this scholar\nseeks to show that the _Hecuba_ is a study, first, of \u201cconventional\u201d\njustice, the claim of the community, shown in the sacrifice of Polyxena;\nand, secondly, of \u201cnatural\u201d justice, seen in Hecuba\u2019s revenge. Miss\nMatthaei\u2019s treatment, however subjective, is trenchant and illuminating,\nespecially as regards the psychology of Hecuba and Odysseus, the value\nof Polyxena\u2019s surrender, and the _finale_. But concerning the vital\npoint, lack of dramatic unity, she has little to say, apparently only the\nsuggestion (p. 140) that \u201cthe cumulative effect of finding the body of\nPolydorus after having seen Polyxena taken away is the deciding factor;\notherwise the end of the play would have been simply unbelievable\u201d. The\nstrength of this argument is very doubtful.\n\n[513] See Mr. Hadley\u2019s admirable _Introduction_ to the play (pp. ix-xii).\n\n[514] vv. 779 _sq._\n\n[515] vv. 428-30, 671, 894-7, 1287 _sq._\n\n[516] v. 230.\n\n[517] vv. 814-9, 1187-94.\n\n[518] In 427 B.C.\n\n[519] vv. 905 _sqq._\n\n[520] vv. 342-78.\n\n[521] vv. 518-82.\n\n[522] vv. 953-67.\n\n[523] vv. 796 _sq._ provide an example:\u2014\n\n    \u1f14\u03ba\u03c4\u03b5\u03b9\u03bd\u03b5, \u03c4\u03cd\u03bc\u03b2\u03bf\u03c5 \u03b4\u2019, \u03b5\u1f30 \u03ba\u03c4\u03b1\u03bd\u03b5\u1fd6\u03bd \u1f10\u03b2\u03bf\u03cd\u03bb\u03b5\u03c4\u03bf,\n    \u03bf\u1f50\u03ba \u1f20\u03be\u03af\u03c9\u03c3\u03b5\u03bd, \u1f00\u03bb\u03bb\u2019 \u1f00\u03c6\u1fc6\u03ba\u03b5 \u03c0\u03cc\u03bd\u03c4\u03b9\u03bf\u03bd.\n\n[524] Note his absurd insistence (vv. 531-3) on his own trivial part in\nthe sacrifice-scene.\n\n[525] vv. 592-603 (the last line being an apology for the digression),\n864-7.\n\n[526] vv. 799 _sqq._\n\n[527] vv. 585 _sqq._, 806-8.\n\n[528] v. 421: \u1f21\u03bc\u03b5\u1fd6\u03c2 \u03b4\u1f72 \u03c0\u03b5\u03bd\u03c4\u03ae\u03ba\u03bf\u03bd\u03c4\u03ac \u03b3\u2019 \u1f04\u03bc\u03bc\u03bf\u03c1\u03bf\u03b9 \u03c4\u03ad\u03ba\u03bd\u03c9\u03bd. Comment seems\nobvious: \u201cActually enough children to row a galley!\u201d (\u03c0\u03b5\u03bd\u03c4\u03b7\u03ba\u03cc\u03bd\u03c4\u03bf\u03c1\u03bf\u03c2 \u03bd\u03b1\u1fe6\u03c2).\n\n[529] vv. 68 _sqq._\n\n[530] vv. 702 _sqq._\n\n[531] Probably it was composed during the early years of the\nPeloponnesian war, as the scholiast suggests in a note on v. 445.\n\n[532] Schol. on v. 445.\n\n[533] Her son, who is not given a name in the play, no doubt obtains it\nfrom this prophecy.\n\n[534] Mention of such a conflict naturally occurs (vv. 588 _sq._) in the\nheat of their quarrel, but it comes to nothing. That the old king has no\nmilitary following seems certain from the silence of both parties. See\nparticularly vv. 752 _sqq._\n\n[535] vv. 732 _sqq._ Note the stammering repetition of \u03c4\u03b9\u03c2\u2014he cannot even\nsuggest a name.\n\n[536] It may be answered that here, as elsewhere, the time consumed by\nthe choric ode is conventionally supposed long enough to allow for the\nalleged synchronous action. But how much time is required? Orestes is\nto place Hermione in Menelaus\u2019 care, journey to Delphi, and arrange his\nplot; then the slaves are to carry the body home. This certainly means\nthree days; one would expect a week. Thus Peleus only hears of Hermione\u2019s\ndeparture three days (perhaps a week) after it has occurred. Is this\ncredible? See also the conversation between him and the chorus which\nimplies that the news has reached him within an hour or two.\n\n[537] _Four Plays of Euripides_, pp. 1-42.\n\n[538] vv. 1239 _sqq._ (\u0394\u03b5\u03bb\u03c6\u03bf\u1fd6\u03c2 \u1f44\u03bd\u03b5\u03b9\u03b4\u03bf\u03c2).\n\n[539] It is usually supposed to mean \u201cone of the second-rate plays\u201d.\n\n[540] vv. 929-53.\n\n[541] vv. 595-601.\n\n[542] v. 964: \u1f26\u03bb\u03b8\u03bf\u03bd \u03b4\u1f72 \u03c3\u1f70\u03c2 \u03bc\u1f72\u03bd \u03bf\u1f50 \u03c3\u03ad\u03b2\u03c9\u03bd \u1f10\u03c0\u03b9\u03c3\u03c4\u03bf\u03bb\u03ac\u03c2, \u03ba\u03c4\u1f11. There can be\nhardly a doubt that these words refer to their parting before her\nmarriage, when she forbade him to see her again.\n\n[543] vv. 639, 708 _sqq._ Cp. Verrall, p. 38.\n\n[544] _Eg._ vv. 229 _sq._\n\n[545] Cp. Verrall, pp. 29 _sq._\n\n[546] v. 166. This is the type of drama at which Sophocles shook his\nhead and which Aristophanes reviled. But it must have made many a\nslave-holding citizen in the theatre suddenly raise his brows and fall to\nthinking of words let drop an hour ago at home.\n\n[547] vv. 1147 _sqq._: The some one of course might be anyone. The\nspeaker elects to assume that the god is actually present.\n\n[548] vv. 1002 _sqq._, especially 1004.\n\n[549] vv. 464-94.\n\n[550] vv. 147-80.\n\n[551] vv. 164 _sqq._\n\n[552] vv. 445-63.\n\n[553] _Eg._ vv. 632 _sqq._\n\n[554] _Arrangement_ (according to Croiset): protagonist, Amphitryon,\nMadness; deuteragonist, Megara, Iris, Theseus; tritagonist, Lycus,\nHeracles, messenger. Of course the dead bodies are lay figures. Other\narrangements are possible.\n\n[555] vv. 637-700.\n\n[556] vv. 70-9, 460-89.\n\n[557] vv. 1255-1310, 1340-93.\n\n[558] vv. 140-235.\n\n[559] _Four Plays of Euripides_, pp. 134-98.\n\n[560] vv. 339 _sqq._, etc.\n\n[561] vv. 798 _sqq._\n\n[562] vv. 1340-6.\n\n[563] Especially vv. 1269 _sqq._\n\n[564] The appearance of Pallas (vv. 1002-6) is regarded by Verrall as \u201ca\nchance blow received by the madman from the falling ruins of the chamber\u201d.\n\n[565] In vv. 562-82 he raves, however eloquently. One man cannot capture\na whole fortress and punish a hostile population as Amphitryon (vv.\n585-94) feels, though his caution and prosaic advice are painfully\nludicrous considering the vast claims he has made for his son an hour ago.\n\n[566] v. 1222.\n\n[567] Compare the similar explanation of a wonderful feat actually\noffered by Lycus (vv. 153 _sq._).\n\n[568] Cp. Verrall, pp. 147 _sq._\n\n[569] _Ibid._ pp. 156, 162.\n\n[570] vv. 65-6.\n\n[571] vv. 485-9.\n\n[572] _Probable Arrangement_: protagonist, Theseus, messenger;\ndeuteragonist, Adrastus, Evadne; tritagonist, \u00c6thra, herald, Iphis,\nAthena.\n\n[573] The plot strongly recalls the incident after the battle of Delium\n(424 B.C.), when the victorious B\u0153otians at first refused to surrender\nthe Athenian dead, and the alliance between Athens and Argos (420 B.C.).\n\n[574] The Hypothesis says: \u03c4\u1f78 \u03b4\u1f72 \u03b4\u03c1\u1fb6\u03bc\u03b1 \u1f10\u03b3\u03ba\u03ce\u03bc\u03b9\u03bf\u03bd \u1f08\u03b8\u03b7\u03bd\u03b1\u03af\u03c9\u03bd (altered by\nDindorf with general approval to \u1f08\u03b8\u03b7\u03bd\u1ff6\u03bd).\n\n[575] vv. 195-218.\n\n[576] vv. 403-56.\n\n[577] vv. 297-331.\n\n[578] She has arrayed herself, not in black but in festal robes (vv.\n1054-6)\u2014an interesting parallel with the fine ending of the second act of\nMr. Shaw\u2019s _Doctor\u2019s Dilemma_.\n\n[579] _Probable Arrangement_: protagonist, Ion, P\u00e6dagogus; deuteragonist,\nHermes, Creusa; tritagonist, Xuthus, servant, prophetess, Athena.\n\n[580] vv. 1537 _sq._\n\n[581] \u1f00\u03bc\u03b1\u03b8\u03ae\u03c2 (v. 916, used by Creusa).\n\n[582] \u1f41 \u03ba\u03b1\u03ba\u03cc\u03c2 (v. 952, used by the P\u00e6dagogus).\n\n[583] v. 1595.\n\n[584] vv. 550 _sqq._ are probably significant (and Ion actually the son\nof Xuthus).\n\n[585] Cp. v. 1324 and the rest of the short conversation between her and\nIon, which is of course charming on any view of the play.\n\n[586] vv. 859 _sqq._\n\n[587] vv. 1029 _sqq._\n\n[588] Cp. v. 1419: \u03bf\u1f50 \u03c4\u03ad\u03bb\u03b5\u03bf\u03bd, \u03bf\u1f37\u03bf\u03bd \u03b4\u2019 \u1f10\u03ba\u03b4\u03af\u03b4\u03b1\u03b3\u03bc\u03b1 \u03ba\u03b5\u03c1\u03ba\u03af\u03b4\u03bf\u03c2, and Ion\u2019s\nacknowledgment (v. 1424): \u1f30\u03b4\u03bf\u03cd\u00b7 \u03c4\u03cc\u03b4\u2019 \u1f10\u03c3\u03b8\u2019 \u1f55\u03c6\u03b1\u03c3\u03bc\u03b1, \u03b8\u03ad\u03c3\u03c6\u03b1\u03b8\u2019 \u1f61\u03c2 \u03b5\u1f51\u03c1\u03af\u03c3\u03ba\u03bf\u03bc\u03b5\u03bd.\nThis latter surely means that Ion is as satisfied as one can expect to be\nin tracing the fulfilment of oracles.\n\n[589] Cp. v. 1565: \u03bc\u03b7\u03c7\u03b1\u03bd\u03b1\u1fd6\u03c2 \u1f10\u03c1\u03c1\u03cd\u03c3\u03b1\u03c4\u03bf.\n\n[590] v. 1550: \u03c0\u03c1\u03cc\u03c3\u03c9\u03c0\u03bf\u03bd.\n\n[591] \u03bf\u1f50 \u03c0\u03ad\u03b4\u03bf\u03bd \u03c4\u03af\u03ba\u03c4\u03b5\u03b9 \u03c4\u03ad\u03ba\u03bd\u03b1 says the elder man (v. 542), casually turning\nhis back on the glory of his wife\u2019s family (cp. vv. 265-8).\n\n[592] vv. 585 _sqq._\n\n[593] vv. 738-46.\n\n[594] v. 768 _sqq._\n\n[595] vv. 1215 _sqq._\n\n[596] His very religion, when put to the test, is mostly intellectual.\nApollo\u2019s moral shortcomings only cause him to shake his head gravely; but\nwhen the god\u2019s truthfulness is exploded, the whole fabric of his belief\ncollapses.\n\n[597] vv. 369-72.\n\n[598] vv. 436-51. The above paraphrase is probably not too colloquial\n(cp. especially v. 437: \u03c4\u03af \u03c0\u03ac\u03c3\u03c7\u03b5\u03b9; and v. 439: \u03bc\u1f74 \u03c3\u03cd \u03b3\u03b5). In fact, as the\nspeech is so very explicit and unadorned, and as Ion is probably uttering\nit while he performs his tasks (see 434-6, after which these reflections\nbegin in the middle of a line), we perhaps overhear thoughts rather than\nwords.\n\n[599] vv. 589 _sqq._\n\n[600] vv. 1312 _sqq._\n\n[601] vv. 1546 _sqq._\n\n[602] vv. 369 _sqq._\n\n[603] vv. 308, etc.\n\n[604] vv. 1397 _sqq._\n\n[605] vv. 1468 _sq._\n\n[606] _Arrangement_ (probable): protagonist, Hecuba; deuteragonist,\nAthena, Cassandra, Andromache, Helen; tritagonist, Poseidon, Talthybius,\nMenelaus.\n\n[607] \u00c6lian, _Var. Hist._ ii. 8.\n\n[608] There are reminders of the western lands in vv. 220 _sqq._\n\n[609] vv. 703 _sqq._\n\n[610] vv. 1158 _sqq._\n\n[611] v. 764: \u1f66 \u03b2\u03ac\u03c1\u03b2\u03b1\u03c1\u2019 \u1f10\u03be\u03b5\u03c5\u03c1\u03cc\u03bd\u03c4\u03b5\u03c2 \u1f1d\u03bb\u03bb\u03b7\u03bd\u03b5\u03c2 \u03ba\u03b1\u03ba\u03ac (Andromache\u2019s phrase).\n\n[612] vv. 884 _sqq._ (The first line refers to air.) If we possess any\nevidence as to the theological belief of the poet himself it is probably\ncontained in these lines.\n\n[613] vv. 469 _sqq._, 841 _sqq._, 1060 _sqq._ (especially the poignant\n\u03bc\u03ad\u03bb\u03b5\u03b9 \u03bc\u03ad\u03bb\u03b5\u03b9 \u03bc\u03bf\u03b9), 1240 _sqq._\n\n[614] vv. 1204 _sqq._:\u2014\n\n                  \u03c4\u03bf\u1fd6\u03c2 \u03c4\u03c1\u03cc\u03c0\u03bf\u03b9\u03c2 \u03b3\u1f70\u03c1 \u03b1\u1f31 \u03c4\u03cd\u03c7\u03b1\u03b9,\n    \u1f14\u03bc\u03c0\u03bb\u03b7\u03ba\u03c4\u03bf\u03c2 \u1f61\u03c2 \u1f04\u03bd\u03b8\u03c1\u03c9\u03c0\u03bf\u03c2, \u1f04\u03bb\u03bb\u03bf\u03c4\u2019 \u1f04\u03bb\u03bb\u03bf\u03c3\u03b5\n    \u03c0\u03b7\u03b4\u1ff6\u03c3\u03b9.\n\nThe phrasing points back effectively to Poseidon\u2019s description of\nAthena\u2019s fickleness (vv. 67 _sq._: \u03c4\u03af \u03b4\u2019 \u1f67\u03b4\u03b5 \u03c0\u03b7\u03b4\u1fb7\u03c2 \u1f04\u03bb\u03bb\u03bf\u03c4\u2019 \u03b5\u1f30\u03c2 \u1f04\u03bb\u03bb\u03bf\u03c5\u03c2\n\u03c4\u03c1\u03cc\u03c0\u03bf\u03c5\u03c2;).\n\n[615] The _arrangement_ is uncertain. Perhaps: protagonist, Iphigenia;\ndeuteragonist, Orestes, messenger, Athena; tritagonist, herdsman,\nPylades, Thoas.\n\n[616] Murray and others place it about 414-2, Wilamowitz, 411-9.\n\n[617] v. 1205: \u03c0\u03b9\u03c3\u03c4\u1f78\u03bd \u1f19\u03bb\u03bb\u1f70\u03c2 \u03bf\u1f36\u03b4\u03b5\u03bd \u03bf\u1f50\u03b4\u03ad\u03bd.\n\n[618] v. 626: \u03c0\u1fe6\u03c1 \u1f31\u03b5\u03c1\u1f78\u03bd \u1f14\u03bd\u03b4\u03bf\u03bd, \u03c7\u03ac\u03c3\u03bc\u03b1 \u03b4\u2019 \u03b5\u1f50\u03c1\u03c9\u03c0\u1f78\u03bd \u03c0\u03ad\u03c4\u03c1\u03b1\u03c2\u2014a marvellous line.\n\n[619] vv. 823-6.\n\n[620] v. 677: \u03a6\u03c9\u03ba\u03ad\u03c9\u03bd \u03c4\u2019 \u1f10\u03bd \u03c0\u03bf\u03bb\u03c5\u03c0\u03c4\u03cd\u03c7\u1ff3 \u03c7\u03b8\u03bf\u03bd\u03af.\n\n[621] See especially the lovely song, vv. 1089 _sqq._\n\n[622] vv. 968 _sqq._\n\n[623] One can hardly doubt that this is the intention of the scene on the\nTaurian beach (vv. 281-94).\n\n[624] vv. 711 _sqq._ The feelings of the Delphian hierarchy, when Orestes\nafter all actually returned, bringing with him the image\u2014about which they\ncared not a farthing\u2014may be imagined by the irreverent.\n\n[625] v. 77.\n\n[626] v. 275.\n\n[627] vv. 380 _sqq._\n\n[628] vv. 719 _sq._\n\n[629] See Verrall, _Eur. the Rationalist_, pp. 217-30 (_Euripides in a\nHymn_).\n\n[630] Longinus, _de Subl._ xv. 3.\n\n[631] vv. 970 _sqq._\n\n[632] v. 73: \u1f10\u03be \u03b1\u1f31\u03bc\u03ac\u03c4\u03c9\u03bd \u03b3\u03bf\u1fe6\u03bd \u03be\u03ac\u03bd\u03b8\u2019 \u1f14\u03c7\u03b5\u03b9 \u03c4\u03c1\u03b9\u03c7\u03ce\u03bc\u03b1\u03c4\u03b1, a grotesque thought\nwhich we have just heard (as Murray points out in his _apparatus_) from\nIphigenia as part of her dream.\n\n[633] vv. 281 _sqq._\n\n[634] vv. 961 _sqq._\n\n[635] \u03b8\u03b5\u1fb6\u03c2 \u03b2\u03c1\u03ad\u03c4\u03b1\u03c2 is now the prescription, as we may call it. Cp. vv.\n980, 985-6, and 1038-40.\n\n[636] vv. 939 _sqq._\n\n[637] \u03c8\u1fc6\u03c6\u03bf\u03c2 (v. 945). He means \u201cassembly (which votes),\u201d but he has \u03c8\u1fc6\u03c6\u03bf\u03c2\non the brain, as well he might have (vv. 965 _sq._).\n\n[638] vv. 739 _sq._ and 1046: \u03a0\u03c5\u03bb\u03ac\u03b4\u03b7\u03c2 \u03b4\u2019 \u1f45\u03b4\u2019 \u1f21\u03bc\u1fd6\u03bd \u03c0\u03bf\u1fe6 \u03c4\u03b5\u03c4\u03ac\u03be\u03b5\u03c4\u03b1\u03b9 \u03c6\u03cc\u03bd\u03bf\u03c5\u2014if\nthis is a task set by Apollo there must be murder in it.\n\n[639] v. 933.\n\n[640] _Arrangement_: protagonist, Electra; deuteragonist, Orestes,\nClyt\u00e6mnestra; tritagonist, farmer, old man, messenger, Castor. Pylades\nand Polydeuces were represented by a mute actor.\n\n[641] From vv. 1347-56 it is clear that the Sicilian expedition had\nalready sailed, but that news of the disaster had not yet reached Athens.\n\n[642] Bernhardy, _Geschichte der griechischen Poesie_ II, ii. p. 490.\n\n[643] vv. 1041-3.\n\n[644] vv. 9-10.\n\n[645] 1142-6.\n\n[646] vv. 652-60.\n\n[647] v. 54.\n\n[648] The peasant tells us that Electra\u2019s banishment to the country is\ndue to her mother\u2019s efforts when \u00c6gisthus wished to kill her (vv. 25\n_sqq._). Electra puts the matter very differently (vv. 60 _sq._). The\nhorrible story in vv. 326 _sqq._ is probably untrue; cp. \u1f61\u03c2 \u03bb\u03ad\u03b3\u03bf\u03c5\u03c3\u03b9\u03bd.\n\n[649] vv. 77-8, 354 _sq._\n\n[650] vv. 367 _sqq._\n\n[651] vv. 255 _sqq._\n\n[652] vv. 1294, 1296 _sq._, 1302.\n\n[653] vv. 737-45.\n\n[654] Expedit esse deos.\n\n[655] \u201cIf God did not exist, it would be necessary to invent Him.\u201d\n\n[656] vv. 1245 _sq._\n\n[657] vv. 1327 _sqq._\n\n[658] vv. 1301-7. The first line, \u03bc\u03bf\u1fd6\u03c1\u03ac \u03c4\u2019 \u1f00\u03bd\u03ac\u03b3\u03ba\u03b7\u03c2 \u1f26\u03b3\u2019 \u1f97 \u03c4\u1f78 \u03c7\u03c1\u03b5\u03ce\u03bd, is an\nexceptionally fine instance of misty verbiage.\n\n[659] See Verrall\u2019s discussion in his edition of the _Choephor\u0153_ (Introd.\npp. xxxiii-lxx).\n\n[660] _Probable Arrangement_: protagonist, Helen, the god (whether\nCastor or Pollux); deuteragonist, Teucer, Menelaus, Egyptian messenger;\ntritagonist, old woman, Greek messenger, Theonoe, Theoclymenus.\n\n[661] v. 616: \u1f66 \u03c7\u03b1\u1fd6\u03c1\u03b5, \u039b\u03ae\u03b4\u03b1\u03c2 \u03b8\u03cd\u03b3\u03b1\u03c4\u03b5\u03c1, \u1f10\u03bd\u03b8\u03ac\u03b4\u2019 \u1f26\u03c3\u03b8\u2019 \u1f04\u03c1\u03b1;\n\n[662] v. 151.\n\n[663] vv. 832, 1048, 491, 1050-2.\n\n[664] vv. 183 _sqq._\n\n[665] vv. 1107 _sqq._\n\n[666] vv. 878 _sqq._\n\n[667] vv. 1013-6:\u2014\n\n    \u03ba\u03b1\u1f76 \u03b3\u1f70\u03c1 \u03c4\u03af\u03c3\u03b9\u03c2 \u03c4\u1ff6\u03bd\u03b4\u2019 \u1f10\u03c3\u03c4\u1f76 \u03c4\u03bf\u1fd6\u03c2 \u03c4\u03b5 \u03bd\u03b5\u03c1\u03c4\u03ad\u03c1\u03bf\u03b9\u03c2\n    \u03ba\u03b1\u1f76 \u03c4\u03bf\u1fd6\u03c2 \u1f04\u03bd\u03c9\u03b8\u03b5\u03bd \u03c0\u1fb6\u03c3\u03b9\u03bd \u1f00\u03bd\u03b8\u03c1\u03ce\u03c0\u03bf\u03b9\u03c2. \u1f41 \u03bd\u03bf\u1fe6\u03c2\n    \u03c4\u1ff6\u03bd \u03ba\u03b1\u03c4\u03b8\u03b1\u03bd\u03cc\u03bd\u03c4\u03c9\u03bd \u03b6\u1fc7 \u03bc\u1f72\u03bd \u03bf\u1f54, \u03b3\u03bd\u03ce\u03bc\u03b7\u03bd \u03b4\u2019 \u1f14\u03c7\u03b5\u03b9\n    \u1f00\u03b8\u03ac\u03bd\u03b1\u03c4\u03bf\u03bd, \u03b5\u1f30\u03c2 \u1f00\u03b8\u03ac\u03bd\u03b1\u03c4\u03bf\u03bd \u03b1\u1f30\u03b8\u03ad\u03c1\u2019 \u1f10\u03bc\u03c0\u03b5\u03c3\u03ce\u03bd.\n\nThe precision of the wording is remarkable.\n\n[668] _Troades_, 884 _sqq._\n\n[669] See _Four Plays of Euripides_, pp. 43-133 (_Euripides\u2019 Apology_).\n\n[670] vv. 1301 _sqq._\n\n[671] The idea is taken from the famous recantation of Stesichorus, which\nasserted that Helen never went to Troy.\n\n[672] In the inflated affectation of such things as vv. 355-6 and 629\nparody of some contemporary lyrist is quite possible.\n\n[673] vv. 20-1, 256-9 (rejected by Murray, after Badham).\n\n[674] vv. 138 _sqq._, 205 _sqq._, 284-5.\n\n[675] vv. 744-60.\n\n[676] _Arrangement_ (according to Croiset): protagonist, Jocasta, Creon;\ndeuteragonist, Antigone, Polynices, Men\u0153ceus; tritagonist, p\u00e6dagogus,\nEteocles, Tiresias, messengers, \u0152dipus.\n\n[677] Perhaps one reason was the great sweep of story which it covers.\n\n[678] See Mr. J. U. Powell\u2019s careful and lucid account in his edition\n(pp. 7-32).\n\n[679] Verrall, _Eur. the Rationalist_, pp. 236 _sq._\n\n[680] Mr. J. U. Powell, whose edition should be consulted.\n\n[681] vv. 1233 _sq._:\u2014\n\n    \u1f51\u03bc\u03b5\u1fd6\u03c2 \u03b4\u2019 \u1f00\u03b3\u1ff6\u03bd\u2019 \u1f00\u03c6\u03ad\u03bd\u03c4\u03b5\u03c2, \u1f08\u03c1\u03b3\u03b5\u1fd6\u03bf\u03b9, \u03c7\u03b8\u03cc\u03bd\u03b1\n    \u03bd\u03af\u03c3\u03b5\u03c3\u03b8\u03b5, \u03b2\u03af\u03bf\u03c4\u03bf\u03bd \u03bc\u1f74 \u03bb\u03b9\u03c0\u03cc\u03bd\u03c4\u03b5\u03c2 \u1f10\u03bd\u03b8\u03ac\u03b4\u03b5,\n\nare out of the question as work of Euripides. There are several other\nfaults.\n\n[682] vv. 1259 _sqq._\n\n[683] Mr. Powell, however, rightly remarks that vv. 1265-6 are \u201cstrained\u201d.\n\n[684] vv. 1758 _sq._\n\n[685] vv. 1524 _sq._\n\n[686] So the scholiast: \u1f45 \u03c4\u03b5 \u1f10\u03c0\u1f76 \u03c0\u1fb6\u03c3\u03b9 \u03bc\u03b5\u03c4\u2019 \u1fa0\u03b4\u1fc6\u03c2 \u1f00\u03b4\u03bf\u03bb\u03ad\u03c3\u03c7\u03bf\u03c5 \u03c6\u03c5\u03b3\u03b1\u03b4\u03b5\u03c5\u03cc\u03bc\u03b5\u03bd\u03bf\u03c2\n\u039f\u1f30\u03b4\u03af\u03c0\u03bf\u03c5\u03c2 \u03c0\u03c1\u03bf\u03c3\u03ad\u03c1\u03c1\u03b1\u03c0\u03c4\u03b1\u03b9 \u03b4\u03b9\u1f70 \u03ba\u03b5\u03bd\u1fc6\u03c2.\n\n[687] vv. 1090-1199 (the \u1fe5\u1fc6\u03c3\u03b9\u03c2 containing the description of the Seven).\n\n[688] vv. 1182 _sqq._\n\n[689] Verrall (_Eur. the Rationalist_, pp. 231-60) believed that those\nparts which introduce Antigone are un-Euripidean. The terrace-scene\nhas already been discussed. In the body of the play, as he argues\nwith much point, wherever mention of Antigone occurs, it is obtrusive\nand embarrassing. Her lament with \u0152dipus at the close contains many\ninappropriate features. He concludes that \u0152dipus is an allegory of\nEuripides himself, leaving Athens in sorrow at the end of his life, and\nthat Antigone represents his literary offspring, the plays. The Sphinx\nis \u201cthe spirit of mystery and darkness,\u201d which the poet has fought and\nquelled. All this was composed by a poet of the Euripidean circle to\ncommemorate the master; it includes a compliment\u2014the quotation from the\n_\u0152dipus Tyrannus_\u2014to Sophocles, who had shown public respect to his rival\nwhen the news of his death reached Athens.\n\n[690] One notices the criticism (vv. 751 _sq._) of \u00c6schylus, _Septem_\n(vv. 375 _sqq._) when Eteocles declares that to give a list of his\nchampions would be waste of time.\n\n[691] The \u201cpopular\u201d character of the _Ph\u0153niss\u00e6_ is brought out by the\nrelish with which the _Argument_ enumerates its murderous happenings.\n\n[692] In this passage an allusion has by some been supposed to\nAlcibiades\u2019 return to Athens (411 B.C.).\n\n[693] Cp. vv. 302 _sq._ (\u03b3\u03b7\u03c1\u03b1\u03b9\u1f78\u03bd \u03c0\u03cc\u03b4\u2019 \u1f15\u03bb\u03ba\u03c9) with v. 316 (\u03c0\u03b5\u03c1\u03b9\u03c7\u03bf\u03c1\u03b5\u03cd\u03bf\u03c5\u03c3\u03b1).\n\n[694] vv. 528 _sqq._\n\n[695] Croiset gives the probable _arrangement_: protagonist, Orestes,\nmessenger; deuteragonist, Electra, Menelaus, Phrygian; tritagonist,\nHelen, Tyndareus, Pylades, Hermione, Apollo.\n\n[696] See Murray\u2019s text.\n\n[697] vv. 1167 _sqq._\n\n[698] vv. 491-525.\n\n[699] vv. 28 _sqq._\n\n[700] vv. 285 _sqq._ Menelaus (v. 417) casually calls Apollo \u201cstupid\u201d.\n\n[701] vv. 380 _sqq._\n\n[702] v. 386.\n\n[703] v. 388.\n\n[704] v. 390.\n\n[705] vv. 544 _sqq._ The flatness of the translation given above is\nnot, I think, inappropriate, \u03bd\u1fe6\u03bd \u03b4\u1f72 \u03c3\u1f74\u03bd \u03c4\u03b1\u03c1\u03b2\u1ff6 \u03c4\u03c1\u03af\u03c7\u03b1 (v. 550), is merely\nhideous. \u03bc\u03b1\u03c3\u03c4\u03bf\u1fd6\u03c2 \u03c4\u1f78\u03bd \u1f14\u03bb\u03b5\u03bf\u03bd \u03b8\u03b7\u03c1\u03ce\u03bc\u03b5\u03bd\u03b1\u03b9 (v. 568), is even worse.\n\n[706] v. 551.\n\n[707] v. 634.\n\n[708] v. 397.\n\n[709] vv. 640 _sq._\n\n[710] vv. 658-61.\n\n[711] vv. 932 _sqq._\n\n[712] v. 1576: \u03c0\u03bf\u03c4\u03ad\u03c1\u03bf\u03bd \u1f10\u03c1\u03c9\u03c4\u1fb6\u03bd \u1f22 \u03ba\u03bb\u03cd\u03b5\u03b9\u03bd \u1f10\u03bc\u03bf\u1fe6 \u03b8\u03ad\u03bb\u03b5\u03b9\u03c2;\n\n[713] v. 396.\n\n[714] His \u201cprogression, upward in strength and downward in reason, is\nvisible throughout,\u201d says Dr. Verrall (_Four Plays_, p. 245), whose\neloquent and vivid essay on this drama should be carefully studied.\n\n[715] vv. 1204 _sqq._: \u1f66 \u03c4\u1f70\u03c2 \u03c6\u03c1\u03ad\u03bd\u03b1\u03c2 \u03bc\u1f72\u03bd \u1f04\u03c1\u03c3\u03b5\u03bd\u03b1\u03c2 \u03ba\u03b5\u03ba\u03c4\u03b7\u03bc\u03ad\u03bd\u03b7....\n\n[716] vv. 615 _sqq._\n\n[717] vv. 72-92. Compare the amusing little passage-of-arms, vv. 107-11\n(see Verrall, _Four Plays_, pp. 219 _sq._).\n\n[718] vv. 126 _sqq._\n\n[719] vv. 1-3.\n\n[720] vv. 78 _sq._\n\n[721] v. 121.\n\n[722] vv. 960 _sqq._\n\n[723] At v. 1539 (very late in the day) they discuss whether it is\ntheir duty to inform the State of the murderous plot against Helen and\nHermione. Even then they decide to do nothing.\n\n[724] vv. 1547 _sqq._\n\n[725] Note vv. 743, 745, 747, 749, and the excitement in the last two\nverses.\n\n[726] vv. 481 _sqq._\n\n[727] vv. 371 _sqq._\n\n[728] v. 1323.\n\n[729] vv. 37 _sqq._\n\n[730] vv. 395 _sqq._\n\n[731] Contrast v. 420: \u03bc\u03ad\u03bb\u03bb\u03b5\u03b9\u00b7 \u03c4\u1f78 \u03b8\u03b5\u1fd6\u03bf\u03bd \u03b4\u2019 \u1f10\u03c3\u03c4\u1f76 \u03c4\u03bf\u03b9\u03bf\u1fe6\u03c4\u03bf\u03bd \u03c6\u03cd\u03c3\u03b5\u03b9; with v.\n423: \u1f61\u03c2 \u03c4\u03b1\u03c7\u1f7a \u03bc\u03b5\u03c4\u1fc6\u03bb\u03b8\u03cc\u03bd \u03c3\u2019 \u03b1\u1f37\u03bc\u03b1 \u03bc\u03b7\u03c4\u03ad\u03c1\u03bf\u03c2 \u03b8\u03b5\u03b1\u03af.\n\n[732] vv. 360 _sqq._\n\n[733] v. 373.\n\n[734] First Menelaus says that Glaucus spoke to him \u201cfrom the waves\u201d (v.\n362), but from v. 365 (\u1f10\u03bc\u03c6\u03b1\u03bd\u1ff6\u03c2 \u03ba\u03b1\u03c4\u03b1\u03c3\u03c4\u03b1\u03b8\u03b5\u03af\u03c2) it seems that the person\nis standing on the shore. Such inconsistencies are significant, and in\nEuripides common. They indicate how much accuracy the narrator commands.\n\n[735] vv. 1493 _sqq._\n\n[736] vv. 1662-3.\n\n[737] Professor Gilbert Murray (_Euripides and his Age_, pp. 160 _sqq._)\nhas some beautiful and striking observations on the epiphany of Apollo\nand its effect on the raving mortals below: a trance falls upon them from\nwhich they awake purged of hate and anger. But could Euripides, can we,\nattribute this to a god who has commanded matricide? And the effect is\nlargely spoiled by Orestes (vv. 1666 _sqq._): \u201cProphetic Loxias, what\noracles are thine! Thou art not, then, a lying prophet, but a true. Yet\nhad I begun to dread lest, when I heard thy voice as I thought, it was\nthat of a fiend.\u201d ... These are not the tones of blissful faith.\n\n[738] Paley says that this play is more frequently quoted by ancient\nwriters than all the works of \u00c6schylus and Sophocles together.\n\n[739] vv. 174 _sqq._\n\n[740] _Arrangement_: Protagonist, Pentheus, Agave; deuteragonist,\nDionysus, Tiresias; tritagonist, Cadmus, guard, messengers.\n\n[741] Before Cadmus\u2019 speech, a passage has been lost in which the\nmourners adjusted the torn fragments.\n\n[742] There is another gap at this point. A considerable number of\nDionysus\u2019 lines are missing, and no doubt also further conversation\nbetween Cadmus and Agave.\n\n[743] See Professor Murray (_Euripides and his Age_, pp. 183 _sq._). I\nnow think that what I wrote about the psychology of Dionysus and Pentheus\n(_The Riddle of the Bacch\u00e6_, pp. 66 _sq._, 87-101) is over-elaborated.\n\n[744] vv. 824-45.\n\n[745] vv. 732-51.\n\n[746] Professor Murray\u2019s beautiful translation of these lyrics will be\nfamiliar to most readers.\n\n[747] Murray, _Euripides and his Age_, p. 196. My quotation, of course,\ndoes not imply that Professor Murray is guilty of the confusion of\nthought in question.\n\n[748] The view mentioned in this paragraph will be found worked out in\nthe present writer\u2019s _Riddle of the Bacch\u00e6_. This theory has met with\nmuch scepticism, but received the honour of almost entire acceptance\nby the late Dr. Verrall in _The Bacchantes of Euripides_. Dr. Verrall\nimproved the statement of the theory, in particular by rejecting the\nsupposition of a plot between Tiresias and the Stranger. Mr. W. H.\nSalter, in his delightful _Essays on Two Moderns_, also accepts this view\nof the play in the main (pp. 50-68). Dr. R. Nihard, in _Le Probl\u00e8me des\nBacchantes d\u2019Euripide_ (Louvain, 1912), a useful study, rejects it.\n\n[749] vv. 632 _sq._:\u2014\n\n    \u03c0\u03c1\u1f78\u03c2 \u03b4\u1f72 \u03c4\u03bf\u1fd6\u03c3\u03b4\u2019 \u03b1\u1f50\u03c4\u1ff7 \u03c4\u03ac\u03b4\u2019 \u1f04\u03bb\u03bb\u03b1 \u0392\u03ac\u03ba\u03c7\u03b9\u03bf\u03c2 \u03bb\u03c5\u03bc\u03b1\u03af\u03bd\u03b5\u03c4\u03b1\u03b9\u00b7\n    \u03b4\u03ce\u03bc\u03b1\u03c4\u2019 \u1f14\u03c1\u03c1\u03b7\u03be\u03b5\u03bd \u03c7\u03b1\u03bc\u1fb6\u03b6\u03b5. \u03c3\u03c5\u03bd\u03c4\u03b5\u03b8\u03c1\u03ac\u03bd\u03c9\u03c4\u03b1\u03b9 \u03b4\u2019 \u1f05\u03c0\u03b1\u03bd ...\n\n\u03c3\u03c5\u03bd\u03c4\u03b5\u03b8\u03c1\u03ac\u03bd\u03c9\u03c4\u03b1\u03b9, however, is elsewhere only known to us by the explanation\nof Hesychius, \u03c3\u03c5\u03bc\u03c0\u03ad\u03c0\u03c4\u03c9\u03ba\u03b5, and Verrall points out that it ought to mean\n\u201cit has all been put together again\u201d.\n\n[750] To this view no complete answer has yet been made. All that can\npossibly be said is what Professor Gilbert Murray (_Euripides and his\nAge_, pp. 186 _sq._) and (in a letter to the present writer) Professor\nU. von Wilamowitz-Moellendorff suggest, that the palace is in the main\ndestroyed, but the fa\u00e7ade is more or less undamaged. This does away\nwith the testimony to Dionysus\u2019 imposture which the audience receive\nfrom their own eyes, but it leaves untouched the incredible silence of\nPentheus. Moreover, Dionysus\u2019 words as they stand mean that the building\nis utterly destroyed. That they do not mean this is only suggested in\ndespair, because, if they do mean this, they are absurdly and patently\nfalse.\n\n[751] v. 233 _sq._: \u03be\u03ad\u03bd\u03bf\u03c2, \u03b3\u03cc\u03b7\u03c2 \u1f10\u03c0\u1ff3\u03b4\u03cc\u03c2.\n\n[752] The attachment between Artemis and Hippolytus is a remarkable\nexception. The stories concerning the \u201cloves\u201d of gods and goddesses for\nmortals are evidently beside the question.\n\n[753] vv. 1325 _sq._\n\n[754] _Bellerophon_, _fr._ 294, 7: \u03b5\u1f30 \u03b8\u03b5\u03bf\u03af \u03c4\u03b9 \u03b4\u03c1\u1ff6\u03c3\u03b9\u03bd \u03b1\u1f30\u03c3\u03c7\u03c1\u03cc\u03bd, \u03bf\u1f50\u03ba \u03b5\u1f30\u03c3\u1f76\u03bd\n\u03b8\u03b5\u03bf\u03af.\n\n[755] _Arrangement_: Croiset gives: protagonist, Agamemnon, Achilles;\ndeuteragonist, Old Man, Iphigenia, messenger; tritagonist, Menelaus,\nClyt\u00e6mnestra.\n\n[756] For these see Professor Murray\u2019s text, especially his preface.\n\n[757] It contains, for instance, unmetrical verses.\n\n[758] vv. 1366 _sq._\n\n[759] vv. 919-74.\n\n[760] For what follows cp. Professor Murray, _Euripides and his Age_, pp.\n173-5.\n\n[761] v. 414.\n\n[762] The elision of \u03b1\u03b9 in v. 407.\n\n[763] _Poetic_, 1454_a_.\n\n[764] _Arrangement_: protagonist, Odysseus; deuteragonist, Silenus;\ntritagonist, Polyphemus.\n\n[765] The _Detectives_ (\u1f38\u03c7\u03bd\u03b5\u03c5\u03c4\u03b1\u03af) of Sophocles is now known to us by\nextensive fragments, see pp. 175 _sq._\n\n[766] Murray puts it \u201cperhaps even before 438\u201d.\n\n[767] It attracted little attention from ancient scholars. There are no\nscholia, and the hypothesis is incomplete.\n\n[768] _Odyssey IX._ 105-566.\n\n[769] Cp. vv. 549, 672-5, with _Od. IX._ vv. 366, 408-12.\n\n[770] Cp. vv. 460-3 with _Od. IX._ 384-8.\n\n[771] See p. 2.\n\n[772] Anap\u00e6sts in other feet than the first, and occasional violations of\nthe rule of the final cretic (see Chapter VI).\n\n[773] vv. 316-41.\n\n[774] The _arrangement_ of the cast is not clear; perhaps: protagonist,\nHector, Odysseus; deuteragonist, \u00c6neas, Rhesus, Diomedes, charioteer;\ntritagonist, Dolon, herdsman, Athena, Muse. The brief part of Paris may\nhave been taken by Diomedes or Odysseus, possibly by a fourth actor.\n\n[775] \u1f00\u03bd\u03b8\u03c1\u03c9\u03c0\u03bf\u03b4\u03b1\u03af\u03bc\u03c9\u03bd (v. 971).\n\n[776] vv. 474-84.\n\n[777] vv. 546-56.\n\n[778] An excellent summary of the evidence (to which I am indebted) is to\nbe found in the _Introduction_ to Professor Murray\u2019s verse-translation.\n\n[779] Its author, however, is by no means convinced by them. He gives\nalso interesting information on other points.\n\n[780] That is, the two prologues mentioned in the _Argument_ were added\nfor later performances.\n\n[781] Another argument on this side, which is perhaps new, lies in the\nfact that almost all the action takes place at night\u2014an unique feature.\nThe ancient theatre, of course, could not be darkened. It might be urged\nthat the drama was meant for readers only, and so comes from one of the\n\u1f00\u03bd\u03b1\u03b3\u03bd\u03c9\u03c3\u03c4\u03b9\u03ba\u03bf\u03af of the fourth century (see p. 32).\n\n[782] vv. 319-23.\n\n[783] vv. 422-53.\n\n[784] It suffices to mention Scaliger, B\u00f6ckh, Hermann, Valckenaer, and\nWilamowitz-Moellendorff.\n\n[785] Upheld, _e.g._ by Christ and Murray.\n\n[786] Schol. on v. 528.\n\n[787] vv. 962-73.\n\n[788] On the whole question see Mr. W. H. Porter\u2019s excellent paper, \u201cThe\nEuripidean _Rhesus_ in the Light of Recent Criticism\u201d (_Hermathena_,\nxvii. pp. 348-80), and his useful edition of the play.\n\n[789] Cp. pp. 119 _sq._, 165 _sq._\n\n[790] Euripides revises even the diction of his predecessor. \u00c6schylus\nwrote \u03c6\u03b1\u03b3\u03ad\u03b4\u03b1\u03b9\u03bd\u03b1 \u03b4\u2019 \u1f25 \u03bc\u03bf\u03c5 \u03c3\u03ac\u03c1\u03ba\u03b1\u03c2 \u1f10\u03c3\u03b8\u03af\u03b5\u03b9 \u03c0\u03bf\u03b4\u03cc\u03c2; Euripides repeats the line\nwith the verb altered to \u03b8\u03bf\u03b9\u03bd\u1fb6\u03c4\u03b1\u03b9 (Aristotle, _Poetic_, 1458_b_).\n\n[791] vv. 1520-7.\n\n[792] _Quomodo historia conscribenda_, \u00a7 1.\n\n[793] See Hartung\u2019s masterly treatment in _Euripides Restitutus_, II, pp.\n344-60.\n\n[794] Ruskin, _Mornings in Florence_, I, 14.\n\n[795] The statements in this sentence are taken from Hartung, who bases\nhis conception here upon other authors; there are no Euripidean fragments\nto this effect.\n\n[796] Eratosthenes (_Catast._ 15, quoted by Nauck) says: \u03bf\u1f50\u03c7 \u03b5\u1f35\u03bb\u03b5\u03c4\u03bf \u03c4\u1ff7\n\u03c0\u03b1\u03c4\u03c1\u1f76 \u03c3\u03c5\u03bc\u03bc\u03ad\u03bd\u03b5\u03b9\u03bd \u03bf\u1f50\u03b4\u1f72 \u03c4\u1fc7 \u03bc\u03b7\u03c4\u03c1\u03af, \u1f00\u03bb\u03bb\u2019 \u03b1\u1f50\u03b8\u03b1\u03af\u03c1\u03b5\u03c4\u03bf\u03c2 \u03b5\u1f30\u03c2 \u03c4\u1f78 \u1f0c\u03c1\u03b3\u03bf\u03c2 \u1f00\u03c0\u1fc6\u03bb\u03b8\u03b5 \u03bc\u03b5\u03c4\u2019\n\u1f10\u03ba\u03b5\u03af\u03bd\u03bf\u03c5 \u03b5\u1f50\u03b3\u03b5\u03bd\u03ad\u03c2 \u03c4\u03b9 \u03c6\u03c1\u03bf\u03bd\u03ae\u03c3\u03b1\u03c3\u03b1. The last three words suggest a scene of\nirresolution followed by a speech of high resolve, as in the _Iphigenia\nat Aulis_.\n\n[797] I, 33.\n\n[798] See Goethe\u2019s enthusiastic and brilliant discussion, _Altgriechische\nLiteratur_ (Works, Vol. V, p. 127, edition of 1837).\n\n[799] Hartung\u2019s brilliant sketch of Phaethon\u2019s character (_Eur.\nRestitutus_, II, pp. 192 _sq._), however imaginary, will be read with\ninterest.\n\n[800] This is an acute suggestion of Goethe.\n\n[801] \u1f61\u03c2 \u03c0\u03b1\u03bd\u03c4\u03b1\u03c7\u03bf\u1fe6 \u03b3\u03b5 \u03c0\u03b1\u03c4\u03c1\u1f76\u03c2 \u1f21 \u03b2\u03cc\u03c3\u03ba\u03bf\u03c5\u03c3\u03b1 \u03b3\u1fc6.\n\n[802] \u03b4\u03ad\u03bd\u03b4\u03c1\u03b5\u03b1 \u03c6\u03af\u03bb\u03bf\u03b9\u03c3\u03b9\u03bd \u1f60\u03bb\u03ad\u03bd\u03b1\u03b9\u03c3\u03b9 \u03c8\u03c5\u03ba\u03c4\u03ae\u03c1\u03b9\u03b1 \u03bb\u03ad\u03be\u03b5\u03c4\u03b1\u03b9.\n\n[803] The chorus in their terror bid the queen seek refuge with her\nfather Oceanus.\n\n[804] See _Oxyrhynchus Papyri_, VI, pp. 19-106.\n\n[805] The scholiast on _Frogs_, v. 53, which was performed in 405 B.C.\n(the year after Euripides\u2019 death) mentions the _Hypsipyle_ among recent\nplays.\n\n[806] The critic Didymus, for instance, knew the _Hypsipyle_ better than\nthe _Bacch\u00e6_. For \u201cAchelous\u201d as a synonym for \u201cwater\u201d he quotes the\nformer play rather than _Bacch\u00e6_, 625. See Macrobius, V, xviii. 12.\n\n[807] That is, \u201cthe beginning of doom\u201d.\n\n[808] Hartung, _Eur. Rest._ II, p. 442.\n\n[809] \u039c\u03b5\u03bb\u03b1\u03bd\u03af\u03c0\u03c0\u03b7 \u1f21 \u03c3\u03bf\u03c6\u03ae, so called to distinguish it from \u039c. \u03b4\u03ad\u03c3\u03bc\u03c9\u03c4\u03b9\u03c2,\nor _Melanippe in Prison_. The latter play seems to have been much less\nimportant. Unfortunately there is often a doubt, when authorities quote\nthe \u201c_Melanippe_,\u201d from which of the two the quotation comes.\n\n[810] See pp. 313-5.\n\n[811] \u1f14\u03c7\u03b5\u03b9 \u03b4\u1f72 \u03b4\u03b9\u03c0\u03bb\u03bf\u1fe6\u03bd \u03c3\u03c7\u1fc6\u03bc\u03b1, \u03c4\u1f78 \u03bc\u1f72\u03bd \u03c4\u03bf\u1fe6 \u03c0\u03bf\u03b9\u03b7\u03c4\u03bf\u1fe6, \u03c4\u1f78 \u03b4\u1f72 \u03c4\u03bf\u1fe6 \u03c0\u03c1\u03bf\u03c3\u03ce\u03c0\u03bf\u03c5 \u03c4\u03bf\u1fe6\n\u1f10\u03bd \u03c4\u1ff7 \u03b4\u03c1\u03ac\u03bc\u03b1\u03c4\u03b9, \u03c4\u1fc6\u03c2 \u039c\u03b5\u03bb\u03b1\u03bd\u03af\u03c0\u03c0\u03b7\u03c2 (quoted by Nauck).\n\n[812] _Jupiter Trag\u0153dus_, 41.\n\n[813] Hartung assigns it to 448 B.C.\n\n[814] Cp. Aristotle\u2019s criticism, _Poetic_, 1454_a_: \u03c4\u03bf\u1fe6 \u03b4\u1f72 \u1f00\u03c0\u03c1\u03b5\u03c0\u03bf\u1fe6\u03c2 \u03ba\u03b1\u1f76\n\u03bc\u1f74 \u1f01\u03c1\u03bc\u03cc\u03c4\u03c4\u03bf\u03bd\u03c4\u03bf\u03c2 (\u03c0\u03b1\u03c1\u03ac\u03b4\u03b5\u03b9\u03b3\u03bc\u03b1) ... \u1f21 \u03c4\u1fc6\u03c2 \u039c\u03b5\u03bb\u03b1\u03bd\u03af\u03c0\u03c0\u03b7\u03c2 \u1fe5\u1fc6\u03c3\u03b9\u03c2.\n\n[815] _Moralia_, 110 D, 998 E.\n\n[816] _Poetic_, 1454_a_.\n\n[817]\n\n    \u03ba\u03bf\u03af\u03bb\u03bf\u03b9\u03c2 \u1f10\u03bd \u1f04\u03bb\u03c5\u03c7\u03bd\u03bf\u03c2 \u1f65\u03c3\u03c4\u03b5 \u03b8\u1f74\u03c1 \u03bc\u03cc\u03bd\u03bf\u03c2 (_fr._ 425).\n\n[818]\n\n    \u03c4\u03af\u03c2 \u03b4\u2019 \u03bf\u1f36\u03b4\u03b5\u03bd \u03b5\u1f30 \u03c4\u1f78 \u03b6\u1fc6\u03bd \u03bc\u03ad\u03bd \u1f10\u03c3\u03c4\u03b9 \u03ba\u03b1\u03c4\u03b8\u03b1\u03bd\u03b5\u1fd6\u03bd,\n    \u03c4\u1f78 \u03ba\u03b1\u03c4\u03b8\u03b1\u03bd\u03b5\u1fd6\u03bd \u03b4\u1f72 \u03b6\u1fc6\u03bd \u03ba\u03ac\u03c4\u03c9 \u03bd\u03bf\u03bc\u03af\u03b6\u03b5\u03c4\u03b1\u03b9;\n\n[819] 1 Cor. xv. 33.\n\n[820] _Fr._ 1034:\u2014\n\n    \u1f05\u03c0\u03b1\u03c2 \u03bc\u1f72\u03bd \u1f00\u1f74\u03c1 \u1f00\u03b5\u03c4\u1ff7 \u03c0\u03b5\u03c1\u03ac\u03c3\u03b9\u03bc\u03bf\u03c2,\n    \u1f05\u03c0\u03b1\u03c3\u03b1 \u03b4\u1f72 \u03c7\u03b8\u1f7c\u03bd \u1f00\u03bd\u03b4\u03c1\u1f76 \u03b3\u03b5\u03bd\u03bd\u03b1\u03af\u1ff3 \u03c0\u03b1\u03c4\u03c1\u03af\u03c2.\n\n[821] _Fr._ 475.\n\n[822] Mr. F. Manning, _Scenes and Portraits_ (_Preface_, p. viii).\n\n[823] Aristotle, _Poetic_, 1460_b_: \u03a3\u03bf\u03c6\u03bf\u03ba\u03bb\u1fc6\u03c2 \u1f14\u03c6\u03b7 \u03b1\u1f50\u03c4\u1f78\u03c2 \u03bc\u1f72\u03bd \u03bf\u1f35\u03bf\u03c5\u03c2 \u03b4\u03b5\u1fd6\n\u03c0\u03bf\u03b9\u03b5\u1fd6\u03bd, \u0395\u1f50\u03c1\u03b9\u03c0\u03af\u03b4\u03b7\u03bd \u03b4\u1f72 \u03bf\u1f37\u03bf\u03af \u03b5\u1f30\u03c3\u03b9\u03bd.\n\n[824] _Frogs_, vv. 850, 1043 _sq._\n\n[825] _Ibid._ 954-8.\n\n[826] _Ibid._ 1304-8, 1314, 1348.\n\n[827] _Ibid._ 1309-63.\n\n[828] _Ibid._ 1378-1410.\n\n[829] _Ibid._ 1198 _sqq._\n\n[830] _Poetic_, 1454_a_.\n\n[831] _Ibid._ 1461_b_.\n\n[832] _Ibid._ 1453_a_. \u1f41 \u0395\u1f50\u03c1\u03b9\u03c0\u03af\u03b4\u03b7\u03c2 \u03b5\u1f30 \u03ba\u03b1\u1f76 \u03c4\u1f70 \u1f04\u03bb\u03bb\u03b1 \u03bc\u1f74 \u03b5\u1f56 \u03bf\u1f30\u03ba\u03bf\u03bd\u03bf\u03bc\u03b5\u1fd6 \u1f00\u03bb\u03bb\u1f70\n\u03c4\u03c1\u03b1\u03b3\u03b9\u03ba\u03ce\u03c4\u03b1\u03c4\u03cc\u03c2 \u03b3\u03b5 \u03c4\u1ff6\u03bd \u03c0\u03bf\u03b9\u03b7\u03c4\u1ff6\u03bd \u03c6\u03b1\u03af\u03bd\u03b5\u03c4\u03b1\u03b9.\n\n[833] _Andromache_, _Electra_, _Bacch\u00e6_, _Rhesus_, and the original text\nof the _Iphigenia at Aulis_ (see Murray\u2019s _Apparatus_ at the end of the\nplay). Aristotle naturally allows such as these (_Poetic_, 1454_b_):\n\u03bc\u03b7\u03c7\u03b1\u03bd\u1fc7 \u03c7\u03c1\u03b7\u03c3\u03c4\u03ad\u03bf\u03bd \u1f10\u03c0\u1f76 \u03c4\u1f70 \u1f14\u03be\u03c9 \u03c4\u03bf\u1fe6 \u03b4\u03c1\u03ac\u03bc\u03b1\u03c4\u03bf\u03c2, \u03ba\u03c4\u1f11.\n\n[834] In the extant plays. Of course there were others, which we cannot\ndiscuss with knowledge, _e.g._ the close of _Melanippe the Wise_.\n\n[835] For the _Iphigenia_ carries the _Helena_ with it (see the\ndiscussion of the latter, pp. 260 _sqq._). As a matter of cold fact, to\nbe sure, Theoclymenus could never have overtaken the Greeks.\n\n[836] _Frogs_, 1198-1247.\n\n[837] He seems in private conversation to have maintained the necessity\nof this; compare the criticism of \u00c6schylus which he utters in the\n_Frogs_, 1122: \u1f00\u03c3\u03b1\u03c6\u1f74\u03c2 \u03b3\u1f70\u03c1 \u1f26\u03bd \u1f10\u03bd \u03c4\u1fc7 \u03c6\u03c1\u03ac\u03c3\u03b5\u03b9 \u03c4\u1ff6\u03bd \u03c0\u03c1\u03b1\u03b3\u03bc\u03ac\u03c4\u03c9\u03bd. \u03c6.\u03c4.\u03c0. is\nprecisely \u201cprologue\u201d in the Euripidean sense.\n\n[838] _Herc. Fur._, 601 _sqq._\n\n[839] Mr. G. B. Shaw.\n\n[840] _Troades_, vv. 1204-6. Cp. _Helena_, 1140-3.\n\n[841] See Mr. W. H. S. Jones, _The Moral Standpoint of Euripides_, pp. 28\n_sq._ This view is also set forth by Jebb, _The Growth and Influence of\nClassical Greek Poetry_, p. 218, and by Nestle, _Euripides der Dichter\nder Gr. Aufkl\u00e4rung_, p. 174.\n\n[842] _Orestes_, vv. 982 _sqq._: \u03bc\u03cc\u03bb\u03bf\u03b9\u03bc\u03b9 \u03c4\u1f70\u03bd \u03bf\u1f50\u03c1\u03b1\u03bd\u03bf\u1fe6 \u03ba\u03c4\u1f11.\n\n[843] See Mr. E. F. Carritt, _The Theory of Beauty_, p. 156.\n\n[844] _Ibid._ p. 89.\n\n[845] v. 618.\n\n[846] _Helena_, vv. 489 _sqq._\n\n[847] _Iph. Aul._, vv. 819 _sqq._\n\n[848] _Ion_, v. 1039.\n\n[849] _The Possessed_, Ch. I.\n\n[850] v. 674: \u1f66 \u03c0\u03b1\u03c4\u03c1\u1f78\u03c2 \u1f45\u03bc\u03b1\u03b9\u03bc\u03b5 \u03b8\u03b5\u1fd6\u03b5.\n\n[851] _Orestes_, vv. 71-111.\n\n[852] M. Arnold, _The Scholar-Gipsy_. Cp. Mrs. Browning\u2019s well-known\nlines on \u201cOur Euripides the human\u201d.\n\n[853] _Fr._ 916:\u2014\n\n                  \u03bc\u03ae \u03bc\u03bf\u03b9\n    \u03bb\u03b5\u03c0\u03c4\u1ff6\u03bd \u03b8\u03af\u03b3\u03b3\u03b1\u03bd\u03b5 \u03bc\u03cd\u03b8\u03c9\u03bd, \u03c8\u03c5\u03c7\u03ae\u00b7\n    \u03c4\u03af \u03c0\u03b5\u03c1\u03b9\u03c3\u03c3\u1f70 \u03c6\u03c1\u03bf\u03bd\u03b5\u1fd6\u03c2, \u03b5\u1f30 \u03bc\u1f74 \u03bc\u03ad\u03bb\u03bb\u03b5\u03b9\u03c2\n    \u03c3\u03b5\u03bc\u03bd\u03cd\u03bd\u03b5\u03c3\u03b8\u03b1\u03b9 \u03c0\u03b1\u03c1\u2019 \u1f41\u03bc\u03bf\u03af\u03bf\u03b9\u03c2;\n\n[854] _Fr._ 894:\u2014\n\n    \u03c3\u03bf\u03c6\u1f78\u03bd \u03b3\u1f70\u03c1 \u1f04\u03bd\u03b4\u03c1\u03b1, \u03ba\u1f02\u03bd \u1f11\u03ba\u1f70\u03c2 \u03bd\u03b1\u03af\u1fc3 \u03c7\u03b8\u03bf\u03bd\u03cc\u03c2,\n    \u03ba\u1f02\u03bd \u03bc\u03ae\u03c0\u03bf\u03c4\u2019 \u1f44\u03c3\u03c3\u03bf\u03b9\u03c2 \u03b5\u1f30\u03c3\u03af\u03b4\u03c9, \u03ba\u03c1\u03af\u03bd\u03c9 \u03c6\u03af\u03bb\u03bf\u03bd.\n\nAnd Nestle (p. 368) aptly quotes from Schiller\u2019s _Don Carlos_ (III, 10):\n\n                        Das Jahrhundert\n    Ist meinem Ideal nicht reif. Ich lebe\n    Ein b\u00fcrger derer, welche kommen werden.\n\n[855] See the celebrated sketch of progressive degradation in Thucydides\n(III, 82, 83).\n\n[856] Dr. W. Nestle\u2019s work is entitled _Euripides der Dichter der\ngriechischen Aufkl\u00e4rung_.\n\n[857] _Herc. Fur._, 673 _sqq._\n\n[858] A totally different thing from the written Greek accents \u0384, `, and\n\u1fc0, which refer to pitch, not stress.\n\n[859] \u03c3\u03c5\u03bd\u03ac\u03c6\u03b5\u03b9\u03b1, \u201cconnexion,\u201d \u201ccontinuity.\u201d\n\n[860] These cause almost all the difficulty of scanning iambics. Till one\nis quite familiar with them it is a good plan to begin at the end. Nearly\nall resolved feet occur in the third or fourth place.\n\n[861] Sophocles sometimes neglects this pause. Not only does he\noccasionally end a line with a word (such as the definite article) which\nbelongs closely to the first word of the next line; in a few places he\nelides a vowel at the end before a vowel in the following line. See, for\ninstance, _\u0152d. Tyr._, 29.\n\n[862] Latin, _c\u00e6sura_ \u201ca cutting\u201d.\n\n[863] No such lines are extant in Greek, but an analogy can be found in\nEnnius\u2019 hexameter:\n\n    Sparsis hastis longis campus splendet et horret.\n\nIn the _Peruigilium Veneris_, the trochee is much too often contained in\na single word, _e.g._:\n\n    Hybla totos funde flores, quotquot annus adtulit.\n\n[864] It is so called because the second half of the fifth foot _plus_\nthe sixth will obviously have the metrical form \u2013\u23d1\u2013, which sequence of\nsyllables, when it forms a single foot (as, of course, it does not in\niambics), is called a cretic. The rule is therefore often thus stated:\n\u201cWhen the final cretic extends over a whole word or whole words, it must\nbe preceded by a short syllable\u201d.\n\n[865] Iambics were adopted because nearer to the rhythm of everyday\nspeech. It has been held, for instance by Dr. J. H. H. Schmidt, that\niambics are nothing but trochaics with \u201canacrusis\u201d (for this term see\nbelow, p. 342). So near is the iambic metre to ordinary talk that one now\nand again finds accidental \u201clines\u201d in prose. Thus Demosthenes (_Olynth._,\nI, 5) writes \u03b4\u1fc6\u03bb\u03bf\u03bd \u03b3\u03ac\u03c1 \u1f10\u03c3\u03c4\u03b9 \u03c4\u03bf\u1fd6\u03c2 \u1f48\u03bb\u03c5\u03bd\u03b8\u03af\u03bf\u03b9\u03c2 \u1f45\u03c4\u03b9.... George Eliot, early in\n_Middlemarch_, actually produces two consecutive \u201clines\u201d: \u201cObliged to get\nmy coals by stratagem, and pray to heaven for my salad-oil\u201d.\n\n[866] Euripides is much fonder of this metre than the other two\nmasters. Sophocles in particular is very sparing of it. That passage\n(_Philoctetes_, 1222 _sqq._), where Odysseus and Neoptolemus hurry upon\nthe scene in violent (iambic) altercation, would infallibly have been put\ninto trochaics by Euripides.\n\n[867] From \u03ba\u03b1\u03c4\u03b1\u03bb\u03ae\u03b3\u03c9, \u201cto stop short\u201d.\n\n[868] The two instances given are, in fact, all that I have found.\n\n[869] \u03b4\u03b9\u03b1\u03af\u03c1\u03b5\u03c3\u03b9\u03c2, \u201cdivision\u201d.\n\n[870] For example, the splendid poem by Anacreon beginning \u03c0\u1ff6\u03bb\u03b5 \u0398\u03c1\u1fc3\u03ba\u03af\u03b7 is\nprinted by some in long lines, by others in short, even though the first,\nthird, etc., long lines are not catalectic.\n\n[871] The meaning of this term is uncertain.\n\n[872] I have, here and later, printed the readings and arrangement best\nsuited to my purpose.\n\n[873] Greek \u03c3\u03c5\u03b3\u03ba\u03bf\u03c0\u03ae, \u201ccoalescence\u201d. But \u23d7 need not fill a foot: for\ninstance in a true _dactylic_ system we find (_\u0152d. Col._, 1082):\u2014\n\n    \u2013  \u23d1 \u23d1 \u2013   \u23d1 \u23d1  \u2013   \u2013   \u23d7   \u23d1  \u23d7  \u23d1  \u2013 \u2013\n    \u03b1\u03b9\u03b8\u03b5\u03c1\u03b9|\u03b1\u03c2 \u03bd\u03b5\u03c6\u03b5\u03bb|\u03b1\u03c2 \u03ba\u03c5\u03c1\u03c3|\u03b1\u03b9\u03bc \u03b1\u03bd|\u03c9\u03b8 \u03b1\u03b3|\u03c9\u03bd\u03c9\u03bd.\n\nAnalogously to \u23d7 as a trochee, dactyls admit \u23d8 (= \u23d1\u23d1\u23d1\u23d1) as a foot.\n\n     \u2013 \u23d1\u23d1    \u23d8      \u23d8      \u23d7  \u23d1  \u2013   \u2013   \u2013 \u23d1  \u23d1  \u23d8   \u2013\n    \u03b8\u03b7\u03c3\u03b5\u03b1 | \u03ba\u03b1\u03b9 | \u03c4\u03b1\u03c2 | \u03b4\u03b9\u03c3\u03c4\u03bf\u03bb|\u03bf\u03c5\u03c2 \u03b1\u03b4\u03bc|\u03b7\u03c4\u03b1\u03c2 \u03b1\u03b4|\u03b5\u03bb\u03c6|\u03b1\u03c2\ua788\u0304(_\u0152d. Col._, 1055).\n\n[874] Before condemning this statement as a mere evasion, the student\nshould reflect that all such poetry is written for music, which would in\nperformance make the rhythm \u201ccome right\u201d.\n\n[875] \u03bb\u03bf\u03b3\u03b1\u03bf\u03b9\u03b4\u03b9\u03ba\u03cc\u03c2, \u201cmingled of prose and verse\u201d.\n\n[876] \u1f00\u03bd\u03ac\u03ba\u03c1\u03bf\u03c5\u03c3\u03b9\u03c2, \u201cstriking up\u201d.\n\n[877] Not all, for the first short syllable may be part of a resolved\nfoot.\n\n[878] The first syllable of \u03c0\u03c1\u03c5\u03bc\u03bd\u03b7\u03c3\u03af\u03c9\u03bd in the second line, though long,\nis musically equivalent to a short. Such syllables are marked with the\nsign \u02c3, and the foot \u03c4\u03bf\u1fd1 \u03c0\u03c1\u03c5\u0350\u03bc\u03bd- may be called an \u201caccelerated spondee\u201d.\nSyllables which carry a musical length different from their metrical\nlength are named \u201cirrational\u201d.\n\n[879] The existence of these cola forms (to us who have not the music\nwritten for Greek lyrics) one of the greatest obstacles to a clear and\neasy perception of periodic structure.\n\n[880] In lyrics a long syllable (if it does not end with a consonant) may\nbe shortened\u2014instead of disappearing by elision\u2014before a vowel.\n\n[881] \u1f21 \u1f10\u03c0\u1ff3\u03b4\u03cc\u03c2. The masculine word, \u1f41 \u1f10\u03c0\u1ff3\u03b4\u03cc\u03c2, has a different meaning,\nwith which we are familiar from the _Epodes_ of Horace\u2014a poem which\nrepeats from beginning to end the same period, each period being usually\ntwo cola \u201cwhich either have equal length, or the second of which is\ncatalectic or \u2018falling\u2019 or is even shortened by an entire measure\u201d (see\nSchmidt\u2019s _Introduction_, Eng. tr. by Prof. J. W. White, pp. 93 _sqq._).\n\n[882] Though my obligations to Dr. J. H. H. Schmidt\u2019s volumes, especially\n_Die Eurhythmie in den Chorges\u00e4ngen der Griechen_, are very great, I\ncannot see in his verse-pause\u2014according to him (_Eurhythmie_, p. 89)\nthe foundation of his system\u2014anything but a delusion. Dr. Schmidt\u2019s own\nappendices show a good minority of \u201cverses\u201d which end with no pause.\n\n[883] The first two syllables (\u23d1\u23d1) correspond to the first (\u2013) of \u039f\u1f30\u03b4\u03af\u03c0\u03bf\u03c5.\n\n[884] How? By examination of the whole period. If we look at the seventh\nline of the strophe from _Antigone_, scanned above, it may seem arbitrary\nto write\n\n       \u2013 \u02c3\n    | \u03b1\u03b9\u03bd\u03b1\u03bd \u2016\n\nrather than\n\n        \u23d7  \u2013\n    | \u03b1\u03b9\u03bd|\u03b1\u03bd\ua788\u2016.\n\nBut the former method is suggested by the corresponding fourth line,\nwhich cannot possibly be scanned otherwise than as above, and which\ntherefore has four feet; hence we scan -\u03b1\u03b9\u03bd\u03b1\u03bd so as to give the seventh\nline also four, not five, feet altogether.\n\n[885] It is therefore possible to scan the ordinary iambics of dialogue\nas trochees:\u2014\n\n    \u02c3     \u2013 \u23d1    \u2013  \u02c3      \u2013  \u23d1 \u2013  \u02c3   \u2013    \u23d1  \u2013\n    \u03b5\u03b9\u03b8 \u205d \u03c9\u03c6\u03b5\u03bb | \u0391\u03c1\u03b3\u03bf\u03c5\u03c2 | \u03bc\u03b7 \u03b4\u03b9|\u03b1\u03c0\u03c4\u03b1\u03c3\u03b8|\u03b1\u03b9 \u03c3\u03ba\u03b1\u03c6|\u03bf\u03c2\ua788 (_Medea_, 1).\n\nThis is the method followed by Dr. J. H. H. Schmidt, and of course\nchanges altogether the rules given above (\u00a7 II), but will hardly perplex\nthe student. It has the advantage of bringing \u201ciambic\u201d dialogue closer to\nlyric and to episodic trochees, but it has seemed more convenient to keep\nthe traditional statement.\n\n[886] Printed as one line, though containing a colon which ends with the\nend of a word, because the corresponding line of the antistrophe contains\na colon which does not:\u2014\n\n    \u03c0\u03c1\u1ff6\u03c4\u03ac \u03c3\u03b5 \u03ba\u03b5\u03ba\u03bb\u03cc\u03bc\u03b5\u03bd\u03bf\u03c2, \u03b8\u03cd\u03b3\u03b1\u03c4\u2016\u03b5\u03c1 \u0394\u03b9\u03cc\u03c2, \u1f04\u03bc\u03b2\u03c1\u03bf\u03c4\u2019 \u1f08\u03b8\u03ac\u03bd\u03b1....\n\n[887] Because spondaic _words_ are lacking. It is sometimes said that\nthe only spondee in English is \u201camen\u201d. The peculiar pronunciation of\nthis word is due to the fact that it is so often sung to music where\neach syllable is given a whole bar. The name of Seaford in Sussex is\nundoubtedly pronounced by its inhabitants \u2238\u2238; but one may perhaps\ntherefore argue that it should be written \u201cSea Ford\u201d.\n\n[888] This important sequence may be conveniently memorized\u2014if we\nsubstitute accent for quantity\u2014by the sentence \u201cAttack Rome at once\u201d.\n\n[889] I take this figure from Schmidt\u2019s _Introduction_ (English\nTranslation, p. 76).\n\n[890] The first two syllables of this word form the anacrusis, though the\nmetre is trochaic; that is, we find \u23d1\u23d1 instead of \u23d1. In such cases the\ntwo \u201cshorts\u201d are given the length of one only, and this is indicated by\nthe sign \u03c9.\n\n[891] I have taken Schmidt\u2019s readings and arrangement for the sake of an\nexample. Murray\u2019s arrangement is quite different.\n\n\n\n\nINDICES\n\n\n\n\nI. GREEK\n\nNames of plays, etc., in capitals\n\n\n  \u0391\u0398\u039b\u0391, 5.\n\n  \u0391\u0399\u0391\u03a3, 132-6.\n\n  \u2014 \u039c\u0391\u03a3\u03a4\u0399\u0393\u039f\u03a6\u039f\u03a1\u039f\u03a3, 132-6.\n\n  \u0391\u0399\u03a4\u039d\u0391\u0399\u0391\u0399, 119.\n\n  \u0391\u039b\u039a\u0397\u03a3\u03a4\u0399\u03a3, 186-92.\n\n  \u1f00\u03bd\u03b1\u03b2\u03b1\u03af\u03bd\u03c9, 54 n.\n\n  \u1f00\u03bd\u03ac\u03b3\u03ba\u03b7, 38.\n\n  \u1f00\u03bd\u03b1\u03b3\u03bd\u03c9\u03c3\u03c4\u03b9\u03ba\u03bf\u03af, 32, 293 n.\n\n  \u1f00\u03bd\u03b1\u03af\u03b4\u03b5\u03b9\u03b1, 325.\n\n  \u1f00\u03bd\u03ac\u03ba\u03c1\u03bf\u03c5\u03c3\u03b9\u03c2, 342 n.\n\n  \u0391\u039d\u0394\u03a1\u039f\u039c\u0391\u03a7\u0397, 219-28.\n\n  \u1f00\u03bd\u1f74\u03c1 \u03b4\u03af\u03c8\u03c5\u03c7\u03bf\u03c2, 311.\n\n  \u0391\u039d\u03a4\u0399\u0393\u039f\u039d\u0397, 136-41.\n\n  \u1f00\u03bd\u03c4\u03b9\u03bb\u03b1\u03b2\u03ae, 181 n.\n\n  \u1f00\u03bd\u03c4\u03b9\u03c3\u03c4\u03c1\u03bf\u03c6\u03ae, 344.\n\n  \u1f00\u03c0\u03ad\u03b4\u03c9\u03ba\u03b5, 3 n.\n\n  \u1f00\u03c0\u1f78 \u03c3\u03ba\u03b7\u03bd\u1fc6\u03c2, 57.\n\n  \u1f04\u03c4\u03b7, 129.\n\n  \u03b1\u1f56\u03b8\u03b9\u03c2, 83.\n\n  \u0391\u03a7\u0391\u0399\u03a9\u039d \u03a3\u03a5\u039b\u039b\u039f\u0393\u039f\u03a3, 174.\n\n  \u0391\u03a7\u0399\u039b\u039b\u0395\u03a9\u03a3 \u0395\u03a1\u0391\u03a3\u03a4\u0391\u0399, 174.\n\n\n  \u0392\u0391\u039a\u03a7\u0391\u0399, 277-85.\n\n  \u03b2\u03b1\u03bb\u03bb\u03ac\u03bd\u03c4\u03b9\u03bf\u03bd, 34 n.\n\n  \u0392\u0391\u03a3\u03a3\u0391\u03a1\u0391\u0399, 117.\n\n  \u0392\u0391\u03a3\u03a3\u0391\u03a1\u0399\u0394\u0395\u03a3, 117.\n\n  \u03b2\u03c1\u1fe6\u03c4\u03bf\u03bd, 118 n.\n\n\n  \u03b4\u03b1\u03b9\u03bc\u03cc\u03bd\u03b9\u03bf\u03bd \u03c3\u03b7\u03bc\u03b5\u1fd6\u03bf\u03bd, 163 n.\n\n  \u03b4\u03b9\u03b1\u03af\u03c1\u03b5\u03c3\u03b9\u03c2, 336 n.\n\n  \u0394\u0399\u0394\u0391\u03a3\u039a\u0391\u039b\u0399\u0391\u0399, 62.\n\n  \u03b4\u03c1\u03ac\u03c3\u03b1\u03bd\u03c4\u03b9 \u03c0\u03b1\u03b8\u03b5\u1fd6\u03bd, 110 n., 129 and n.\n\n\n  \u0395\u039a\u0391\u0392\u0397, 215-9.\n\n  \u1f10\u03ba\u03c3\u03c5\u03c1\u03af\u03c4\u03c4\u03b5\u03b9\u03bd, 83 n.\n\n  \u0395\u039a\u03a4\u039f\u03a1\u039f\u03a3 \u039b\u03a5\u03a4\u03a1\u0391, 118.\n\n  \u1f10\u03bb\u03b5\u03bb\u03b5\u03bb\u03b5\u1fe6, 25.\n\n  \u0395\u039b\u0395\u039d\u0397, 258-64.\n\n  \u0395\u039b\u0395\u03a5\u03a3\u0399\u039d\u0399\u039f\u0399, 119.\n\n  \u1f10\u03c0\u03b5\u03b9\u03c3\u03cc\u03b4\u03b9\u03b1, 4 n.\n\n  \u0395\u03a0\u0399\u0394\u0397\u039c\u0399\u0391\u0399, 23 n.\n\n  \u1f10\u03c0\u1f76 \u03c3\u03ba\u03b7\u03bd\u1fc6\u03c2, 57, 59.\n\n  \u1f10\u03c0\u1f76 \u03c4\u1fc6\u03c2 \u03c3\u03ba\u03b7\u03bd\u1fc6\u03c2, 54.\n\n  \u1f10\u03c0\u03af \u03c4\u03b9\u03bd\u03bf\u03c2 \u03bc\u03b5\u03c4\u03b5\u03ce\u03c1\u03bf\u03c5, 57.\n\n  \u1f10\u03c0\u1ff3\u03b4\u03b9\u03ba\u03cc\u03bd, 344.\n\n  \u1f10\u03c0\u1ff3\u03b4\u03cc\u03c2, 345 n.\n\n  \u0395\u03a5\u039c\u0395\u039d\u0399\u0394\u0395\u03a3, 111-7.\n\n  \u03b5\u1f50\u03c1\u03b9\u03c0\u03b9\u03b4\u03b1\u03c1\u03b9\u03c3\u03c4\u03bf\u03c6\u03b1\u03bd\u03af\u03b6\u03b5\u03b9\u03bd, 19 n.\n\n\n  \u0397\u0394\u03a9\u039d\u039f\u0399, 117.\n\n  \u0397\u039b\u0395\u039a\u03a4\u03a1\u0391, 141-5, 252-8.\n\n  \u0397\u039b\u0399\u0391\u0394\u0395\u03a3, 119.\n\n  \u1f21\u03bc\u03b9\u03c7\u03cc\u03c1\u03b9\u03b1, 78.\n\n  \u0397\u03a1\u0391\u039a\u039b\u0395\u0399\u0394\u0391\u0399, 200-5.\n\n  \u0397\u03a1\u0391\u039a\u039b\u0397\u03a3 \u039c\u0391\u0399\u039d\u039f\u039c\u0395\u039d\u039f\u03a3, 228-34.\n\n\n  \u03b8\u03b5\u1fd6\u03bf\u03bd, \u03c4\u1f78, 30.\n\n  \u03b8\u03b5\u03cc\u03c2, 283.\n\n  \u0398\u0395\u03a1\u0399\u03a3\u03a4\u0391\u0399, 192, 296.\n\n  \u03b8\u03b5\u03c9\u03c1\u03b9\u03ba\u03cc\u03bd, \u03c4\u1f78, 82.\n\n  \u0398\u03a1\u0397\u0399\u03a3\u03a3\u0391\u0399, 119.\n\n  \u03b8\u03c5\u03bc\u03ad\u03bb\u03b7, 51.\n\n  \u03b8\u03c5\u03bc\u03cc\u03c2, 22, 198.\n\n\n  \u0399\u039a\u0395\u03a4\u0399\u0394\u0395\u03a3, 84-6, 234-6.\n\n  \u1f34\u03ba\u03c1\u03b9\u03b1, 81.\n\n  \u0399\u03a0\u03a0\u039f\u039b\u03a5\u03a4\u039f\u03a3 \u039a\u0391\u039b\u03a5\u03a0\u03a4\u039f\u039c\u0395\u039d\u039f\u03a3, 205 n.\n\n  \u2014 \u03a3\u03a4\u0395\u03a6\u0391\u039d\u0397\u03a6\u039f\u03a1\u039f\u03a3, 205-15.\n\n  \u2014 \u03a3\u03a4\u0395\u03a6\u0391\u039d\u0399\u0391\u03a3, 205-15.\n\n  \u0399\u03a6\u0399\u0393\u0395\u039d\u0395\u0399\u0391 \u0397 \u0395\u039d \u0391\u03a5\u039b\u0399\u0394\u0399, 285-9.\n\n  \u2014 \u2014 \u2014 \u03a4\u0391\u03a5\u03a1\u039f\u0399\u03a3, 247-52.\n\n  \u0399\u03a7\u039d\u0395\u03a5\u03a4\u0391\u0399, 175-6, 289 n.\n\n  \u0399\u03a9\u039d, 236-43.\n\n\n  \u039a\u0391\u0392\u0395\u0399\u03a1\u039f\u0399, 119.\n\n  \u03ba\u03b1\u03c4\u03b1\u03b2\u03b1\u03af\u03bd\u03c9, 54 n.\n\n  \u03ba\u03b1\u03c4\u03b1\u03bb\u03ae\u03b3\u03c9, 334 n.\n\n  \u03ba\u03b5\u03c1\u03ba\u03af\u03b4\u03b5\u03c2, 51.\n\n  \u03ba\u03bb\u03af\u03bc\u03b1\u03ba\u03b5\u03c2, 51.\n\n  \u03ba\u03cc\u03b8\u03bf\u03c1\u03bd\u03bf\u03c2, 69.\n\n  \u03ba\u03bf\u03bc\u03bc\u03bf\u03af, 74.\n\n  \u03ba\u03bf\u03bc\u03bc\u03cc\u03c2, 107.\n\n  \u03ba\u03bf\u03c1\u03c5\u03c6\u03b1\u1fd6\u03bf\u03c2, 78.\n\n  \u03ba\u03c1\u03b7\u03c0\u03af\u03c2, 68.\n\n  \u039a\u03a5\u039a\u039b\u03a9\u03a8, 289-91.\n\n  \u03ba\u1ff6\u03bb\u03bf\u03bd, 343.\n\n\n  \u03bb\u03bf\u03b3\u03b1\u03bf\u03b9\u03b4\u03b9\u03ba\u03cc\u03c2, 341 n.\n\n  \u03bb\u03bf\u03b3\u03b5\u1fd6\u03bf\u03bd, 52.\n\n  \u039b\u03a5\u039a\u039f\u03a5\u03a1\u0393\u0395\u0399\u0391, 117.\n\n\n  \u039c\u0395\u0393\u0391 \u0394\u03a1\u0391\u039c\u0391, 24 and n.\n\n  \u039c\u0395\u039b\u0391\u039d\u0399\u03a0\u03a0\u0397 \u0394\u0395\u03a3\u039c\u03a9\u03a4\u0399\u03a3, 305 n.\n\n  \u2014 \u0397 \u03a3\u039f\u03a6\u0397, 305 n.\n\n  \u03bc\u03b5\u03c3\u1ff3\u03b4\u03b9\u03ba\u03cc\u03bd, 344.\n\n  \u039c\u0397\u0394\u0395\u0399\u0391, 192-9.\n\n  \u03bc\u03b7\u03c7\u03b1\u03bd\u03ae, 65.\n\n  \u03bc\u03cd\u03c1\u03bc\u03b7\u03ba\u03bf\u03c2 \u1f00\u03c4\u03c1\u03b1\u03c0\u03bf\u03cd\u03c2, 26 n.\n\n  \u039c\u03a5\u03a1\u039c\u0399\u0394\u039f\u039d\u0395\u03a3, 118.\n\n\n  \u039d\u0395\u0391\u039d\u0399\u03a3\u039a\u039f\u0399, 117.\n\n  \u039d\u0397\u03a1\u0397\u0399\u0394\u0395\u03a3, 118.\n\n  \u039d\u0399\u039f\u0392\u0397, 119.\n\n  \u03bd\u03cc\u03bc\u03bf\u03b9, 72.\n\n\n  \u1f44\u03b3\u03ba\u03bf\u03c2, 69.\n\n  \u039f\u0399\u0394\u0399\u03a0\u039f\u03a5\u03a3 \u0395\u03a0\u0399 \u039a\u039f\u039b\u03a9\u039d\u03a9\u0399, 167-73.\n\n  \u2014 \u03a4\u03a5\u03a1\u0391\u039d\u039d\u039f\u03a3, 145-54.\n\n  \u03bf\u1f31 \u1f10\u03bd \u03c4\u1ff7 \u03c6\u03b1\u03bd\u03b5\u03c1\u1ff7 \u03b8\u03ac\u03bd\u03b1\u03c4\u03bf\u03b9, 45 and n.\n\n  \u039f\u0399 \u0395\u03a0\u03a4\u0391 \u0395\u03a0\u0399 \u0398\u0397\u0392\u0391\u03a3, 89.\n\n  \u03bf\u1f30\u03ba\u03b5\u1fd6\u03b1 \u03c0\u03c1\u03ac\u03b3\u03bc\u03b1\u03c4\u03b1, 20.\n\n  \u1f40\u03ba\u03c1\u03af\u03b2\u03b1\u03c2, 56, 57.\n\n  \u039f\u03a1\u0395\u03a3\u03a4\u0397\u03a3, 268-77.\n\n  \u1f40\u03c1\u03c7\u03ae\u03c3\u03c4\u03c1\u03b1, 50.\n\n\n  \u03c0\u03b1\u03bb\u03b9\u03bd\u1ff3\u03b4\u03af\u03b1, 360.\n\n  \u03c0\u03b1\u03c1\u03b1\u03c7\u03bf\u03c1\u03ae\u03b3\u03b7\u03bc\u03b1, 71.\n\n  \u03c0\u03b1\u03c1\u03b1\u03c3\u03ba\u03ae\u03bd\u03b9\u03b1, 51.\n\n  \u03c0\u03b1\u03c1\u03b5\u03c0\u03b9\u03b3\u03c1\u03b1\u03c6\u03ae, 175.\n\n  \u03c0\u03ac\u03c1\u03bf\u03b4\u03bf\u03b9, 51.\n\n  \u03c0\u03b5\u03c1\u03af\u03b1\u03ba\u03c4\u03bf\u03b9, 63.\n\n  \u03c0\u03b5\u03c1\u03af\u03bf\u03b4\u03bf\u03c2, 343.\n\n  \u03a0\u0395\u03a1\u03a3\u0391\u0399, 86.\n\n  \u03c0\u03c1\u03bf\u03b5\u03b4\u03c1\u03af\u03b1, 81.\n\n  \u03a0\u03a1\u039f\u039c\u0397\u0398\u0395\u03a5\u03a3 \u0394\u0395\u03a3\u039c\u03a9\u03a4\u0397\u03a3, 91-8.\n\n  \u2014 \u039b\u03a5\u039f\u039c\u0395\u039d\u039f\u03a3, 92-3.\n\n  \u2014 \u03a0\u03a5\u03a1\u03a6\u039f\u03a1\u039f\u03a3, 92-3.\n\n  \u03c0\u03c1\u03bf\u03c0\u03bf\u03bc\u03c0\u03bf\u03af, 116.\n\n  \u03c0\u03c1\u03bf\u1ff3\u03b4\u03b9\u03ba\u03cc\u03bd, 344.\n\n  \u03c0\u03c1\u03c9\u03c4\u03b1\u03b3\u03c9\u03bd\u03b9\u03c3\u03c4\u03ae\u03c2, 72.\n\n\n  \u1fe5\u03b1\u03b2\u03b4\u03bf\u03c6\u03cc\u03c1\u03bf\u03b9, 82.\n\n  \u03a1\u0397\u03a3\u039f\u03a3, 291-5.\n\n  \u1fe5\u03bf\u1fd6\u03b2\u03b4\u03bf\u03c2, 175 n.\n\n\n  \u03c3\u03b5\u03bc\u03bd\u03b1\u03af, 113 n.\n\n  \u03c3\u03ba\u03b7\u03bd\u03ae, 52, 54.\n\n  \u03c3\u03bc\u03b9\u03ba\u03c1\u1f78\u03bd \u1f14\u03c0\u03bf\u03c2, 171 and n.\n\n  \u03c3\u03bc\u03b9\u03ba\u03c1\u1f78\u03c2 \u03bb\u03cc\u03b3\u03bf\u03c2, 171 and n.\n\n  \u03a3\u03c0\u03ac\u03c1\u03c4\u03b7\u03bd \u1f14\u03bb\u03b1\u03c7\u03b5\u03c2, \u03c4\u03b1\u03cd\u03c4\u03b7\u03bd \u03ba\u03cc\u03c3\u03bc\u03b5\u03b9, 295.\n\n  \u03c3\u03c4\u03af\u03c7\u03bf\u03c2, 359.\n\n  \u03c3\u03c4\u03c1\u03bf\u03c6\u03ae, 344.\n\n  \u03c3\u03c5\u03b3\u03ba\u03bf\u03c0\u03ae, 341 n.\n\n  \u03c3\u03c5\u03bd\u03ac\u03c6\u03b5\u03b9\u03b1, 330 n.\n\n  \u03a3\u03a5\u039d\u0394\u0395\u0399\u03a0\u039d\u039f\u0399, 174.\n\n  \u03a3\u03a5\u039d\u0395\u039a\u0394\u0397\u039c\u0397\u03a4\u0399\u039a\u039f\u03a3, 23 n.\n\n  \u03c3\u03c5\u03bd\u03af\u03b6\u03b7\u03c3\u03b9\u03c2, 332.\n\n\n  \u03c4\u1f70 \u1f00\u03c0\u1f78 \u03c4\u1fc6\u03c2 \u03c3\u03ba\u03b7\u03bd\u1fc6\u03c2, 54.\n\n  \u03c4\u03b5\u03c4\u03c1\u03b1\u03bb\u03bf\u03b3\u03af\u03b1, 61 n.\n\n  \u03c4\u03af \u03c4\u03b1\u1fe6\u03c4\u03b1 \u03c0\u03c1\u1f78\u03c2 \u03c4\u1f78\u03bd \u0394\u03b9\u03cc\u03bd\u03c5\u03c3\u03bf\u03bd; 2 n.\n\n  \u03c4\u1f78 \u03b4\u1f72 \u03b4\u03c1\u1fb6\u03bc\u03b1 \u03c4\u1ff6\u03bd \u03b4\u03b5\u03c5\u03c4\u03ad\u03c1\u03c9\u03bd, 223 and n.\n\n  \u03c4\u1f78 \u03b8\u03b5\u1fd6\u03bf\u03bd, 30.\n\n  \u03c4\u1f78 \u03b8\u03b5\u03c9\u03c1\u03b9\u03ba\u03cc\u03bd, 82.\n\n  \u03c4\u03bf\u03bd\u03ae, 341, 347, 352, 355, 360.\n\n  \u03c4\u03c1\u03ac\u03b3\u03bf\u03c2, 62 n.\n\n  \u03c4\u03c1\u03b1\u03b3\u1ff3\u03b4\u03af\u03b1, 62 n.\n\n  \u03a4\u03a1\u0391\u03a7\u0399\u039d\u0399\u0391\u0399, 154-60.\n\n  \u03c4\u03c1\u03b9\u03b2\u03ae, 38.\n\n  \u03a4\u03a1\u03a9\u0399\u0391\u0394\u0395\u03a3, 243-6.\n\n  \u03c4\u03cd\u03c7\u03b7, 28, 32.\n\n\n  \u1f51\u03c0\u03bf\u03ba\u03c1\u03b9\u03c4\u03ae\u03c2, 1.\n\n  \u1f51\u03c0\u03bf\u03bc\u03bd\u03ae\u03bc\u03b1\u03c4\u03b1, 22, 23 n.\n\n  \u1f51\u03c0\u03bf\u03c1\u03c7\u03ae\u03bc\u03b1\u03c4\u03b1, 78.\n\n\n  \u03a6\u0399\u039b\u039f\u039a\u03a4\u0397\u03a4\u0397\u03a3, 161.\n\n  \u03a6\u039f\u0399\u039d\u0399\u03a3\u03a3\u0391\u0399, 264-8.\n\n  \u03c6\u03c1\u03ac\u03c3\u03b9\u03c2 \u03c4\u1ff6\u03bd \u03c0\u03c1\u03b1\u03b3\u03bc\u03ac\u03c4\u03c9\u03bd, 316 n.\n\n  \u03a6\u03a1\u03a5\u0393\u0395\u03a3, 118.\n\n  \u03c6\u03cd\u03c3\u03b9\u03c2, 318.\n\n\n  \u03a7\u039f\u0397\u03a6\u039f\u03a1\u039f\u0399, 106-10.\n\n  \u03a7\u03a1\u0399\u03a3\u03a4\u039f\u03a3 \u03a0\u0391\u03a3\u03a7\u03a9\u039d, 41.\n\n\n  \u03a8\u03a5\u03a7\u039f\u03a3\u03a4\u0391\u03a3\u0399\u0391, 120.\n\n\n\n\nII. PLACES, ETC.\n\nA. = Aristophanes, \u00c6. = \u00c6schylus, E. = Euripides, S. = Sophocles,\nSh. = Shakespeare.\n\n\n  Abdera, 298.\n\n  Acharn\u00e6, in _Acharnians_, 296.\n\n  Achelous, in _Trachini\u00e6_, 160.\n\n  \u2014 304 n.\n\n  Acropolis, 14, 49, 239.\n\n  \u2014 in _Eumenides_, 113.\n\n  \u00c6gospotami, 13, 182, 324.\n\n  \u00c6thiopia, in _Andromeda_, 299.\n\n  \u00c6tolia, in _Cresphontes_, 307-8.\n\n  Alexandria, Library of, 39.\n\n  \u2014 Pleiad of, 39.\n\n  \u2014 Theatrical activity in, 3rd century B.C., 39.\n\n  Amphipolis, 294.\n\n  Arachn\u00e6us, Mount, in _Agamemnon_, 101.\n\n  Arden, Forest of, 63.\n\n  Areopagus, in _Eumenides_, 112 ff., 128 n.\n\n  Argolid plain, in S.\u2019s _Electra_, 63.\n\n  Argos, in _Agamemnon_, 99 ff.\n\n  \u2014 \u2014 _Choephor\u0153_, 106.\n\n  \u2014 \u2014 _Eumenides_, 112.\n\n  \u2014 \u2014 _Supplices_ of \u00c6., 84.\n\n  \u2014 \u2014 E.\u2019s _Electra_, 253.\n\n  \u2014 \u2014 \u2014 _Heracleid\u00e6_, 200 ff.\n\n  \u2014 \u2014 \u2014 _Orestes_, 268 ff.\n\n  \u2014 \u2014 \u2014 _Supplices_, 234 n., 235.\n\n  \u2014 \u2014 \u2014 _Telephus_, 295.\n\n  \u2014 316, 321.\n\n  Asia Minor, Gr\u00e6co-Roman theatres in, 59 n.\n\n  Asopus, plain of, in _Agamemnon_, 124.\n\n  Athens, 228-9, 244, 252 n., 307, 312, 324-5.\n\n  \u2014 Agathon of, 21.\n\n  \u2014 and drama, 3, 5.\n\n  \u2014 \u2014 Euripides, 317 ff.\n\n  \u2014 Athena\u2019s temple in, 63.\n\n  \u2014 in _Eumenides_, 111 ff.\n\n  \u2014 \u2014 _\u0152d. Coloneus_, 168 ff., 185.\n\n  \u2014 \u2014 E.\u2019s _Erechtheus_, 297.\n\n  \u2014 \u2014 \u2014 _Hippolytus_, 205 ff., 213.\n\n  \u2014 \u2014 \u2014 _Ion_, 236 ff.\n\n  \u2014 \u2014 \u2014 _Supplices_, 234 n., 235.\n\n  \u2014 local cults of, in \u00c6., 128.\n\n  \u2014 Phrynichus of, 6.\n\n  \u2014 Sophocles of, 12.\n\n  Athens\u2019 war with Eleusis, 119.\n\n  Athos, Mt., in _Agamemnon_, 101.\n\n  Attica, 4, 279.\n\n  \u2014 and Furies, 131.\n\n  \u2014 E.\u2019s cenotaph in, 18.\n\n  \u2014 in _Eumenides_, 113.\n\n  \u2014 \u2014 _Heracleid\u00e6_, 200.\n\n  \u2014 \u2014 _Medea_, 194.\n\n  Aulis, 247, 270.\n\n  \u2014 in _Iph. at A._, 285 ff.\n\n\n  Bradfield College, Gk. plays at, 55.\n\n  Byzantium, 313.\n\n  \u2014 Homer, the tragedian of? 40.\n\n  \u2014 Python of? 39.\n\n\n  Caria, Mausolus, k. of, 38.\n\n  Catana, Python of? 39.\n\n  Ch\u00e6ronea, battle of, 31.\n\n  Chapel, Sistine, 102.\n\n  Chios, Ion of, 21 ff.\n\n  \u2014 Sophocles in, 15.\n\n  Chryse, in S.\u2019s _Philoctetes_, 161.\n\n  Cith\u00e6ron, Mt., in _\u0152d. Tyr._, 147 ff.\n\n  \u2014 \u2014 \u2014 E.\u2019s _Bacch\u00e6_, 277 ff.\n\n  Colchis, Mt., in E.\u2019s _Medea_, 192 ff.\n\n  Colonus, Eumenides at, 172.\n\n  \u2014 in _\u0152d. Coloneus_, 168 ff.\n\n  \u2014 Sophocles\u2019 home, 172.\n\n  \u2014 \u2014 song, 71.\n\n  Congo, Upper, 248.\n\n  Corinth, 22.\n\n  \u2014 and drama, 3.\n\n  \u2014 in _\u0152d. Tyr._, 147.\n\n  \u2014 \u2014 _Medea_, 192 ff., 313.\n\n  Crete, in _Hippolytus_, 206 ff.\n\n  Cynthus, 249.\n\n  Cyzicus, 167.\n\n\n  Delium, 234 n.\n\n  Delphi, 257.\n\n  \u2014 in _Choephor\u0153_, 108, 110.\n\n  \u2014 \u2014 _Eumenides_, 111 ff., 63.\n\n  \u2014 \u2014 S.\u2019s _Electra_, 142.\n\n  \u2014 \u2014 \u2014 _\u0152d. Tyr._, 147 ff.\n\n  \u2014 \u2014 E.\u2019s _Andromache_, 220 ff.\n\n  \u2014 \u2014 \u2014 _Ion_, 236 ff., 314.\n\n  \u2014 \u2014 \u2014 _Iph. T._, 247 ff.\n\n  \u2014 \u2014 \u2014 _Medea_, 193.\n\n  \u2014 \u2014 \u2014 _Ph\u0153niss\u00e6_, 264.\n\n  Dodona, in E.\u2019s _Andromache_, 221.\n\n\n  Egypt, 184.\n\n  \u2014 in _Prom. V._, 94.\n\n  \u2014 \u2014 _Supplices_ of \u00c6., 84 ff.\n\n  \u2014 \u2014 _Helena_ of E., 259 ff., 322.\n\n  Eleusis, \u00c6. of, 10, 119.\n\n  \u2014 mysteries of, 10, 11, 173.\n\n  Eleuther\u00e6, priest of Dionysus of, 80.\n\n  England and Education, 324.\n\n  Eretria, Ach\u00e6us of, 21, 25.\n\n  \u2014 Menedemus of, 25.\n\n  Eridanus, R., in _Hippolytus_, 208.\n\n  Etna, Mt., in _Cyclops_, 289 f.\n\n  \u2014 \u2014 eruption of, in _Prom. V._, 91.\n\n  Eub\u0153a, in _Agamemnon_, 101.\n\n  \u2014 \u2014 _Trachini\u00e6_, 154.\n\n\n  Forest of Arden, in Shakespeare, 63.\n\n\n  Gela, 11.\n\n  Great Britain, dramatic renaissance in, v.\n\n\n  Hades, 86, 95, 202-3.\n\n  \u2014 in Critias\u2019 _Pirithous_, 29.\n\n  \u2014 \u2014 E.\u2019s _Herc. Fur._, 228 ff.\n\n  \u2014 Sophocles in, 14 n.\n\n  Halicarnassus, Dionysius of, 306 n.\n\n  Helene, island of, 262.\n\n  Hellas, 89, 248.\n\n  Hull, 248.\n\n  Hydaspes R., 39.\n\n\n  Icaria, Thespis of, 4.\n\n  Ilium, 245.\n\n\n  Jhelum R., 39.\n\n\n  Lemnos, in \u00c6.\u2019s _Philoctetes_, 120.\n\n  \u2014 \u2014 E.\u2019s _Hypsipyle_, 304.\n\n  \u2014 \u2014 S.\u2019s _Philoctetes_, 161 ff.\n\n  Len\u00e6on, 49.\n\n  Lesbos, in \u00c6.\u2019s _Bassarids_, 117.\n\n\n  Macedonia, Archelaus, k. of, 18.\n\n  \u2014 E.\u2019s death in, 15, 277.\n\n  Macistus, Mt., in _Agamemnon_, 124.\n\n  Malea, 275.\n\n  Marathon, 122, 163, 325.\n\n  \u2014 \u00c6. at, 10.\n\n  \u2014 in _Heracleid\u00e6_, 200.\n\n  Melos, sack of, 244.\n\n  \u2014 Venus of, 182.\n\n  Messenia, in E.\u2019s _Cresphontes_, 307.\n\n  Miletus, capture of, 494 B.C., 7.\n\n  Molottia, in _Andromache_, 221.\n\n  Mount Arachn\u00e6us, _see_ Arachn\u00e6us.\n\n  \u2014 Athos, _see_ Athos.\n\n  \u2014 Cith\u00e6ron, _see_ C.\n\n  \u2014 Etna, _see_ E.\n\n  \u2014 \u0152ta, _see_ \u0152.\n\n  \u2014 Parnassus, _see_ P.\n\n  Mysia, in E.\u2019s _Telephus_, 295-6.\n\n\n  Nauplia, 275.\n\n  Nemea, in E.\u2019s _Hypsipyle_, 304.\n\n  Nile, R., in E.\u2019s _Helena_, 322.\n\n  Nine Ways, 294.\n\n\n  Odessa, 248.\n\n  Odeum at Athens, 56.\n\n  \u0152nophyta, 184.\n\n  \u0152ta, Mt., in _Trachini\u00e6_, 155.\n\n  Omphalos at Delphi, in _Eumenides_, 111.\n\n  Othrys, Mt., in _Alcestis_, 188.\n\n  Oxyrhynchus, 18, 304.\n\n\n  Parnassus, Mt., in _Ion_, 237.\n\n  Parthenon, 14, 182.\n\n  Peir\u00e6us, 49, 245.\n\n  Peloponnese, 6, 304.\n\n  Persia, in _Pers\u00e6_, 123-4.\n\n  Phaselis, Theodectes of, 36.\n\n  Pher\u00e6, Alexander of, 35.\n\n  \u2014 in _Alcestis_, 186.\n\n  Phlius, Pratinas of, 6.\n\n  Phocis, 249.\n\n  Phthia, in _Andromache_, 219 ff.\n\n  Plat\u00e6a, battle of, in _Pers\u00e6_, 87.\n\n  Propyl\u00e6a, 14.\n\n  Punjaub, 39.\n\n\n  Salamis, 7, 12, 14.\n\n  \u2014 \u00c6. at, 10.\n\n  \u2014 E. at, 17.\n\n  \u2014 E. born at, 17.\n\n  \u2014 in _Pers\u00e6_, 87.\n\n  Saronic gulf, in _Agamemnon_, 124.\n\n  Scyros, in S.\u2019s _Philoctetes_, 162.\n\n  Scythia, in _Prom. V._, 93.\n\n  Seaford, Sussex, 354 n.\n\n  Shrine of Thetis, in _Andromache_, 219 ff.\n\n  Sicilian sea, in E.\u2019s _Electra_, 253.\n\n  Sicily, 119, 313.\n\n  \u2014 \u00c6. in, 10.\n\n  Sicyon, 3 n., 22.\n\n  \u2014 Neophron of, 21.\n\n  Sistine Chapel, 102.\n\n  South Russia, 247-8.\n\n  Sparta, in E.\u2019s _Telephus_, 295.\n\n  \u2014 \u2014 A.\u2019s _Acharnians_, 296.\n\n  Susa, Xerxes\u2019 palace at, in _Pers\u00e6_, 88.\n\n  Syracuse, E. in, 17.\n\n  \u2014 Hiero of, 10.\n\n\n  Tauri, in _Iph. T._, 321.\n\n  Tegea, Aristarchus of, 21-2.\n\n  Tent of Agamemnon, 52.\n\n  Thebes, in _Seven_.\n\n  \u2014 \u2014 _Antigone_, 137 ff.\n\n  \u2014 \u2014 _\u0152d. Col._, 168 ff., 185.\n\n  \u2014 \u2014 _\u0152d. Tyr._, 145 ff.\n\n  \u2014 \u2014 E.\u2019s _Antiope_, 298.\n\n  \u2014 \u2014 \u2014 _Bacch\u00e6_, 277 ff.\n\n  \u2014 \u2014 \u2014 _Herc. Fur._, 228 ff.\n\n  \u2014 \u2014 \u2014 _Hypsipyle_, 304-5.\n\n  \u2014 \u2014 \u2014 _Ph\u0153niss\u00e6_, 264 ff.\n\n  \u2014 \u2014 \u2014 _Supplices_, 235.\n\n  The Marshes, Athens, 49.\n\n  Thessaly, in _Alcestis_, 186 ff.\n\n  \u2014 \u2014 _Andromache_, 219 ff.\n\n  Thibet, 248.\n\n  Thrace and Athens, 294-5.\n\n  \u2014 in _Hecuba_, 215 ff.\n\n  Tomb of Achilles, in _Hecuba_, 216.\n\n  \u2014 \u2014 Agamemnon, in E.\u2019s _Electra_, 253.\n\n  \u2014 \u2014 Clyt\u00e6mnestra, in E.\u2019s _Orestes_, 269.\n\n  \u2014 \u2014 Darius, in \u00c6.\u2019s _Pers\u00e6_, 64.\n\n  \u2014 \u2014 Proteus, in E.\u2019s _Helena_, 259.\n\n  Trachis, in _Trachini\u00e6_, 154 ff.\n\n  Troad, 295.\n\n  Tr\u0153zen, in _Hippolytus_, 205 ff.\n\n  Troy, 118, 270.\n\n  \u2014 in _Agamemnon_, 99 ff.\n\n  \u2014 \u2014 \u00c6.\u2019s _Philoctetes_, 120.\n\n  \u2014 \u2014 \u2014 _Weighing of the Souls_, 120.\n\n  \u2014 \u2014 S.\u2019s _Ajax_, 132 ff.\n\n  \u2014 \u2014 \u2014 _Laocoon_, 174.\n\n  \u2014 \u2014 \u2014 _Philoctetes_, 161 ff.\n\n  \u2014 \u2014 E.\u2019s _Electra_, 253.\n\n  \u2014 \u2014 \u2014 _Hecuba_, 215 ff.\n\n  \u2014 \u2014 \u2014 _Helena_, 259 ff.\n\n  \u2014 \u2014 \u2014 _I. A._, 285 ff.\n\n  \u2014 \u2014 \u2014 _Rhesus_, 291 ff.\n\n  \u2014 \u2014 \u2014 _Telephus_, 295.\n\n  \u2014 \u2014 \u2014 _Troades_, 243.\n\n\n  Upper Congo, 248.\n\n\n  Verona, its scenery, in Sh., 63.\n\n  Venusberg, 283.\n\n  Venice, its scenery, in Sh., 63.\n\n\n\n\nIII. PERSONS AND WORKS\n\nA. = Aristophanes, \u00c6. = \u00c6schylus, Ar. = Aristotle, E. = Euripides, S. =\nSophocles, Sh. = Shakespeare. Names of authors in small capitals, of\nworks in italics.\n\n\n  Acamas, in _Heracleid\u00e6_, 200 ff.\n\n  ACH\u00c6US of Eretria, 21, 25.\n\n  \u2014 \u2014 \u2014 his _Philoctetes_, 25.\n\n  _Acharnians_, _see_ ARISTOPHANES.\n\n  Achilles, 176, 226, 319.\n\n  \u2014 in \u00c6., 20.\n\n  \u2014 \u2014 \u2014 _Myrmidons_, 118.\n\n  \u2014 \u2014 \u2014 _Nereids_, 118.\n\n  \u2014 \u2014 \u2014 _Phrygians_, 118.\n\n  \u2014 \u2014 \u2014 _Weighing of Souls_, 120.\n\n  \u2014 \u2014 E. _Andromache_, 220.\n\n  \u2014 \u2014 \u2014 _I. Aul._, 285 ff., 317, 322.\n\n  \u2014 \u2014 \u2014 _Telephus_, 295-6.\n\n  \u2014 \u2014 Homer\u2019s _Iliad_, 119, 288.\n\n  \u2014 \u2014 S. _Philoctetes_, 162.\n\n  \u2014 \u2014 tomb of, in E. _Hecuba_, 216.\n\n  _Achilles_, of Aristarchus, 23.\n\n  Actor, in E. _Philoctetes_, 296.\n\n  Admetus, in E. _Alcestis_, 187 ff.\n\n  _A Doll\u2019s House_, _see_ IBSEN.\n\n  _Ad Quintum Fratrem_, _see_ CICERO.\n\n  Adrastus, 3 n.\n\n  \u2014 k. of Argos, in \u00c6. _Septem_, 89.\n\n  \u2014 in E. _Hypsip._, 305.\n\n  \u2014 \u2014 _Suppl._, 234 ff.\n\n  _Adversus indoctos_, _see_ LUCIAN.\n\n  \u00c6ANTIDES, 40.\n\n  \u00c6geus, k. of Athens, in E. _Medea_, 193, 312, 322-3.\n\n  \u2014 \u2014 \u2014 \u2014 \u2014 Neophron\u2019s _M._, 21.\n\n  \u00c6gisthus in \u00c6. _Agamemnon_, 79, 100 ff.\n\n  \u2014 \u2014 \u2014 _Choeph._, 106 ff.\n\n  \u2014 \u2014 E. _Electra_, 253.\n\n  \u2014 \u2014 E. _Orestes_, 268 ff.\n\n  \u2014 \u2014 S. _Electra_, 141 ff.\n\n  \u00c6gyptus, in \u00c6. _Supplices_, 84.\n\n  \u00c6LIAN, his _Varia Historia_, xiv. 40, p. 35 n.; ii. 8, p. 243 n.\n\n  \u00c6neas, in S. _Laocoon_, 174.\n\n  \u2014 \u2014 \u2014 _Rhesus_, 291 ff.\n\n  _\u00c6neid_, _see_ VERGIL.\n\n  \u00c6olus in E. _Melanippe_, 305.\n\n  _\u00c6rope_, _see_ CARCINUS.\n\n  \u00c6SCHINES, 70 and n., 83.\n\n  \u00c6SCHYLUS, 4, 5, 6, 10-17, 19, 20, 23, 25, 38, 70, 75-6, 82, =84= ff.,\n        173, 177, 179, 180, 182, 192, 249, 275, 276 n., 284, 293, 296,\n        297, 309, 311, 325, 357.\n\n  \u2014 a ballet-master, 78.\n\n  \u2014 and At\u00e9, 129.\n\n  \u2014 \u2014 Chthonian religion, 130.\n\n  \u2014 \u2014 Conscience, 130.\n\n  \u2014 \u2014 Euripides, 121, 315-7, etc.\n\n  \u2014 \u2014 Fate, 125, 130.\n\n  \u2014 \u2014 Homer, 118.\n\n  \u2014 \u2014 Olympians, 130.\n\n  \u2014 \u2014 Zeus, 213.\n\n  \u2014 as dramatist, 125 ff.\n\n  \u2014 \u2014 literary artist, 120-5.\n\n  \u2014 creator of tragic diction, 122.\n\n  \u2014 death, 11.\n\n  \u2014 desk, 34.\n\n  \u2014 epitaph, 10 n.\n\n  \u2014 general appreciation of, 120 ff.\n\n  \u2014 grandeur of language, 121.\n\n  \u2014 his interest in politics, 128 and n.\n\n  \u2014 in Horace _Ars Poet._, 56.\n\n  \u2014 invented dress of tragic actors, 69.\n\n  \u2014 metaphors, 123.\n\n  \u2014 metre, 334.\n\n  \u2014 picturesqueness in characterisation, language and structure,\n        123-8.\n\n  \u2014 religious views, 128.\n\n  \u2014 simplicity of structure and language, 122, 126.\n\n  \u2014 _Agamemnon_, vi, 16, 55, 62, 64, 71, 77, 86, =99-106=, 109,\n        110, 126, 213 and n., 245, 317, 338, 345.\n\n  \u2014 \u2014 beacon-speech in, 124.\n\n  \u2014 \u2014 chariots and horses in, 64.\n\n  \u2014 \u2014 chorus in, 79.\n\n  \u2014 \u2014 eccyclema in, 66.\n\n  \u2014 \u2014 herald in, 73.\n\n  \u2014 \u2014 watchman in, 124.\n    [ll. partly or wholly quoted, 2, 160-83, 184-249, 494-5, 750-7, 975\n        _sqq._, 988 _sqq._, 1147, 1434, 1530 _sqq._]\n\n  \u2014 _Choephor\u0153_, 16, 20, 56, 64, 104, =106-10=, 126, 142, 253, 258,\n        270, 279.\n\n  \u2014 \u2014 chorus in, 79.\n\n  \u2014 \u2014 invocation of Ag.\u2019s shade in, 74.\n\n  \u2014 \u2014 nurse in, 124.\n\n  \u2014 \u2014 tomb in, 64.\n    [ll. 313 _sq._, 451-2, 647, 870-4, 889, 900, 930, 1075-6.]\n\n  \u2014 _Eumenides_, 42 n., 55 n., 56, 68, 110, =111-7=, 121, 128, 217,\n        249.\n\n  \u2014 \u2014 chorus in, 76.\n\n  \u2014 \u2014 dress of Furies in, 69.\n\n  \u2014 \u2014 eccyclema in, 67.\n\n  \u2014 \u2014 jury in, 70.\n\n  \u2014 \u2014 propompi in, 71.\n\n  \u2014 \u2014 scene changes in, 63.\n\n  \u2014 \u2014 shade of Clyt\u00e6mnestra in, 107 n.\n    [ll. 116, 137-8, 283, 398-401, 517-9, 640-51, 681-710, 747, 788\n        _sq._, 886.]\n\n  \u2014 _Niobe_, 119.\n\n  \u2014 _Pers\u00e6_, 8, 9, 10, 18, 38, 47, 64, =86-9=, 123, 125.\n\n  \u2014 \u2014 ghost in, 107 n.\n\n  \u2014 \u2014 metre in, 356.\n\n  \u2014 \u2014 only extant tragedy on non-mythological subject, 87.\n\n  \u2014 \u2014 and Phrynichus\u2019 _Ph\u0153niss\u00e6_, 8, 9.\n    [ll. 81 _sq._, 115, 126 _sq._, 346, 361-2, 395, 480-514, 815.]\n\n  \u2014 _Prometheus Vinctus_, 57, 65, =91-8=, 109, 124, 125, 128, 244.\n    [ll. 12, 15, 89-90, 115, 170, 350-2, 415-20, 993, 1068.]\n\n  \u2014 _Septem contra Thebas_, 20, =89-91=, 95, 123, 125, 267 n., 268 n.\n    [ll. 375 _sqq._, 493-4, 591-4, 689-91, 895 _sqq._]\n\n  \u2014 _Supplices_, 7, 12, 76, 77, =84-6=, 95, 121, 123, 124, 126.\n\n  \u2014 \u2014 chorus in, 76.\n    [ll. 12, 91-5, 230-1, 418 _sqq._, 582 _sqq._, 608, 656, 836-7,\n        991-4, 994-1013, 1068.]\n\n  \u2014 _Amymone_, 85;\n    _Bassar\u00e6 or Bassarides_, 117;\n    _Cabiri_, 119;\n    _Danaides_, 85, 128;\n    _Daughters of the Sun_, 119;\n    _Edoni_, 117;\n    _Egyptians_, 85;\n    _Glaucus of Potni\u00e6_, 87;\n    _Laius_, 90;\n    _Lycurgea_ (trilogy), 117;\n    _Lycurgus_ (satyric play), 117;\n    _Men of Eleusis_, 119;\n    _Men of Persia_ (= _Pers\u00e6_), 86;\n    _Myrmidons_, 118;\n    _Nereides_, 118;\n    _Niobe_, 119 [Fr. ap. Plato \u201c_Rep._\u201d qd.];\n    _\u0152dipus_, 90;\n    _Oresteia_ (trilogy), 11, 85, 92, 95, =98= ff., 123, 126, 128, 134;\n    _Philoctetes_, 119;\n    _Phineus_, 87;\n    _Phrygians_, 118;\n    _Prometheus_ (satyric play), 87 and n.;\n    _Prometheus the Fire-bringer_, 92-3;\n    _Proteus_ (sat. pl.) 98 and n.;\n    _P. Unbound_, 93;\n    _Ransom of Hector_, 118;\n    _Sphinx_ (satyric pl.), 90;\n    _Thracian Women_, 119;\n    _Weighing of Souls_, 120;\n    _Women of Etna_, 10, 119;\n    _Youths_, 117;\n    _Women of the Fawn-skin_, 117.\n\n  _\u00c6thiopica_, _see_ HELIODORUS.\n\n  \u00c6thra, in E. _Supplices_, 234 ff.\n\n  Agamemnon, 76, 254.\n\n  \u2014 in \u00c6. _Agam._, 89 ff., 125.\n\n  \u2014 \u2014 \u2014 _Myrmidons_, 118.\n\n  \u2014 \u2014 E. _Hecuba_, 216 ff.\n\n  \u2014 \u2014 \u2014 _I. Aul._, 285 ff.\n\n  \u2014 \u2014 \u2014 _Orestes_, 270.\n\n  \u2014 \u2014 \u2014 _Telephus_, 295-6.\n\n  \u2014 \u2014 \u2014 _Troades_, 243 ff.\n\n  \u2014 \u2014 S. _Ajax_, 132 ff.\n\n  \u2014 palace of, in S. _Electra_, 141 ff.\n\n  \u2014 shade of, invoked in \u00c6. _Choeph._, 74, 107 and n. and 110.\n\n  \u2014 tent of, 52.\n\n  \u2014 tomb of, 64, 106 (_Choeph._), 253 (E. _El._).\n\n  _Agamemnon_, _see_ \u00c6.\n\n  AGATHON of Athens, 21, =25-9=, 50 n., 55, 72, 77, 315.\n\n  \u2014 _Antheus_, 26.\n\n  \u2014 _Anthos_, 26.\n\n  \u2014 _Fall of Troy_, 27.\n\n  \u2014 _Flower_, 26.\n\n  Agave, in E. _Bacch\u00e6_, 277 ff.\n\n  _Agen_, satyric drama, 38-9.\n\n  Ajax, 62.\n\n  \u2014 death of, on stage, 46.\n\n  \u2014 in S. _Ajax_, 132 ff., 177-8, 180, 185.\n\n  _Ajax_, _see_ SOPHOCLES.\n\n  Alcestis, in E. _Alc._, 186 ff.\n\n  \u2014 death of, on stage, 46.\n\n  _Alcestis_, _see_ EURIPIDES and PHRYNICHUS.\n\n  Alcibiades, 82, 167, 236, 268 n.\n\n  Alcm\u00e6on, 46.\n\n  \u2014 in ASTYDAMAS, 31.\n\n  _Alcm\u00e6on_, etc., _see_ EURIPIDES.\n\n  Alcmena, 231;\n    in E. _Heracleid\u00e6_, 200 ff.\n\n  Alcon, 13.\n\n  Alexander the Great, 29, 36, 39, 163, 313.\n\n  \u2014 \u2014 tragedian, 39, 40.\n\n  \u2014 \u2014 tyrant of Pher\u00e6, 35, 38.\n\n  _Alexander_, _see_ EURIPIDES.\n\n  _Alexandra_, _see_ LYCOPHRON.\n\n  _Alope_, _see_ CH\u0152RILUS.\n\n  _Altgriechische Literatur_, _see_ GOETHE.\n\n  Alth\u00e6a, in Phrynichus\u2019 _Pleuroni\u00e6_, 7.\n\n  Amphiaraus, 235, in \u00c6. _Septem_, 91, 124.\n\n  \u2014 in Carcinus\u2019 _Thyestes_, 35.\n\n  \u2014 \u2014 E. _Hypsipyle_, 304.\n\n  _Amphiaraus_, _see_ SOPHOCLES.\n\n  Amphion, in E. _Antiope_, 298.\n\n  Amphitryon, in E. _Herc. Fur._, 228 ff.\n\n  _Amymone_, _see_ \u00c6SCHYLUS.\n\n  ANACREON, 337 n.\n\n  ANATOLE FRANCE, vi, 326.\n\n  Anaxagoras, 17, 18, 307.\n\n  Andromache, 262;\n    in E. _Andr._, 225 ff.;\n    E. _Troades_, 243 ff.\n\n  _Andromache_, _see_ EURIPIDES.\n\n  Andromeda, in E. _Andromeda_, 8, 299 f.\n\n  _Andromeda_, _see_ EURIPIDES.\n\n  _Anonymous Life_ of Sophocles, 15 n.\n\n  Ant\u00e6us, in Phrynichus\u2019 _Ant\u00e6us_, 7.\n\n  _Ant\u00e6us_, _see_ PHRYNICHUS.\n\n  _Antheus_, _see_ AGATHON.\n\n  _Anthos_, _see_ AGATHON.\n\n  Antigone, 64;\n    in \u00c6. _Septem_, 90-1;\n    in E. _Ph\u0153n._, 264 ff.;\n    in S. _Antigone_, 137 ff., 177-8;\n    in _\u0152. Col._, 168 ff., 182.\n\n  _Antigone_, _see_ SOPHOCLES.\n\n  Antilochus, in \u00c6. _Myrmidons_, 118.\n\n  Antiope, in E. _Antiope_, 298.\n\n  _Antiope_, _see_ EURIPIDES.\n\n  Aphrodite, 85;\n    in \u00c6. _Danaides_, 128;\n    in E. _Helena_, 259;\n    in _Hippol._, 205 ff.;\n    in _I. Aul._, 285.\n\n  Apollo, 67, 69.\n\n  \u2014 his temple at Delphi, 63.\n\n  \u2014 in \u00c6. _Bassarids_, 117;\n    _Choeph._, 107-8;\n    _Eumen._, 85, 111 ff., 129;\n    in E. _Alcestis_, 186 ff.;\n    _Androma._, 220 ff., 226-7;\n    _El._, 252 ff.;\n    _I. Taur._, 247;\n    _Orestes_, 268 ff.;\n    in S. _Ichneut\u00e6_, 2, 175.\n\n  APULEIUS, 320.\n\n  Archelaus, actor, 298.\n\n  \u2014 k. of Macedonia, 18, 26.\n\n  Archemorus, in E. _Hypsip._, 304 and n.\n\n  Ares, 252;\n    in E. _Ph\u0153n._, 264.\n\n  Ariel\u2019s song, 354.\n\n  Arion, 1, 3, 4, 5.\n\n  ARISTARCHUS of Tegea, 21-3.\n\n  \u2014 _Achilles_, 23.\n\n  \u2014 _Asclepius_, 22.\n\n  ARISTEAS, 90.\n\n  Aristides, 91, 128 n.\n\n  _Aristides_, _see_ PLUTARCH.\n\n  ARISTOPHANES, 9, 14, 60, 226 n., 295, 322.\n\n  \u2014 and \u00c6., 118, 121-2.\n\n  \u2014 \u2014 E., 17 ff., 262, 312 ff., 318, 320.\n\n  \u2014 _Acharnians_, 54 n., 67, 296 [l. 732].\n\n  \u2014 _Birds_, 8 and n., 174 and n., 175 [ll. 100 _sqq._, 748-51].\n\n  \u2014 _Clouds_, 65, 67, 215 n. [ll. 225, 1165 _sq._]\n\n  \u2014 _Ecclesiazus\u00e6_, 54 n. [l. 1151].\n\n  \u2014 _Fragments_ (Meineke, ii., p. 1177), 119 and n.\n\n  \u2014 _Frogs_, 7, 11 n., 19-20, 24 and n., 27, 72 and n., 74 and n.,\n        80, 90, 118 n., 121, 122, 124, 126 and n., 215 and nn., 298,\n        304 n., 311-2 n. [ll. 53, 82, 84, 101, 297, 303, 689, 850, 886,\n        908 _sqq._, 911-3, 924-5, 932, 939 _sqq._, 948 _sqq._, 954-8,\n        959, 1021, 1041, 1043 _sq._, 1119 _sqq._, 1122, 1198-1247,\n        1261-95, 1304-8, 1309-63, 1314, 1348, 1378-1410, 1467.]\n\n  \u2014 _Knights_, 54 n., 67 [ll. 148, 1249].\n\n  \u2014 _Peace_, 24, 65, 83, 297 [l. 835].\n\n  \u2014 _Thesmophoriazus\u00e6_, 26, 27, 28 and nn., 72 and n., 215 and nn., 262,\n        296, 298 [ll. 54 _sqq._, 100, 130 _sqq._, 275-6, 497, 547].\n\n  \u2014 _Wasps_, 8 and n., 54 n., 57 [ll. 220, 1342, 1514].\n\n  \u2014 _see_ Parody.\n\n  ARISTOTLE, vi, 3, 25, 54;\n    analysis of Features of Tragedy, 44-8.\n\n  \u2014 and _Macbeth_, 42;\n    and E. _Medea_, 322;\n    and the Three Unities, 42 n.\n\n  \u2014 and catharsis, 43;\n    definitions (of Tragedy, 43; of other things, 47);\n    mentions Carcinus, 35;\n    on Agathon\u2019s Peripeteia, 27;\n    on Eurip., 312 ff.;\n    on origin of Tragedy, 2 n.;\n    on S. _\u0152. Tyr._, 46-8;\n    standpoint of his criticism, 42;\n    taught and quoted Theodectes, 36;\n    value of his evidence, 42.\n\n  \u2014 _Didascali\u00e6_ or _Dramatic Productions_, 62.\n\n  \u2014 _Ethics_, 11 n. [1111_a_, 1150_b_, 10], 83 and n. [X, 1175 B].\n\n  \u2014 _Poetic_, 3 n., 5, 11 n., 15 and n., 26 and n., 27 n., 31 and\n        n., 32, =41= ff., 77 and n., 148, 151 and n., 174 n., 196 and\n        n., 289 and n., 297 n., 307 n., and 308 n., 312 and n. [1447\n        B-1462 B qd. _passim_].\n\n  \u2014 _Rhetoric_, 32 and n., 61 and n., 139 and n. [II, 1400_b_,\n        1417_b_; III, i., III, xii. 2, xvi. 9].\n\n  \u2014 (_Hypomnemata_), 22 and n.\n\n  ARISTOXENUS, on Cola, 351.\n\n  ARNOLD, MATTHEW, 355-6;\n    _Merope_, 309;\n    _Scholar-Gipsy_, 323-4, 326.\n\n  _Ars Poetica_, _see_ HORACE.\n\n  Artemis, in E. _Hippol._, 205, 284 n.;\n    _I. Aul._, 285 ff.;\n    _I. Taur._, 247 ff.\n\n  Asclepius, 13.\n\n  _Asclepius_, _see_ ARISTARCHUS.\n\n  Astyanax, in E. _Troades_, 243 ff.\n\n  ASTYDAMAS (father and son), 31, 59.\n\n  \u2014 _Hector_, 31;\n    _Parthenop\u00e6us_, 31.\n\n  Astyoche, in S. _Eurypylus_, 176.\n\n  Athena, in \u00c6. _Eumen._, 111 ff., 317;\n    E. _Andromeda_, 301;\n    _Heracleid\u00e6_, 201;\n    _Ion_, 236 ff.;\n    _I. Taur._, 247 ff.;\n    _Philoct._, 297;\n    _Rhesus_, 291 ff.;\n    _Suppl._, 234 ff.;\n    _Troad._, 243 ff.;\n    in S. _Ajax_, 132 ff.\n\n  Athena\u2019s temple, in _Eumen._, 63.\n\n  ATHEN\u00c6US, 25 and n., 32 and n., 34 n., 39 n., 175 [III, 98 D; X, 451\n        C; XIII, 595 F; fragm. 10].\n\n  Atlas, in \u00c6. _Prom. V._, 128;\n    in E. _Hippol._, 208.\n\n  Atossa, in \u00c6. _Pers\u00e6_, 86 n., 87.\n\n  Atreid\u00e6, palace of, in _Agam._, 124;\n    Atr. in S. _Ajax_, 136.\n\n  Atreus, house of, in S. _Electra_, 143; and 129.\n\n  _Attic Theatre_, _see_ HAIGH.\n\n  \u2014 _Tragedy_, _see_ HAIGH.\n\n  AULUS GELLIUS, on E., 17 and n. [XV, 20].\n\n\n  _Bacch\u00e6_, _see_ EURIPIDES.\n\n  \u2014 _Riddle of the_, _see_ NORWOOD.\n\n  _Bacchantes_, _see_ EURIPIDES.\n\n  Bacchus, in _Bac._, 277 ff.\n\n  BACCHYLIDES, 24.\n\n  BADHAM on _Helena_, 263 n.\n\n  _Bassanios_, 73.\n\n  _Bassar\u00e6_, -_rides_, _see_ \u00c6SCHYLUS.\n\n  Bellerophon, 65;\n    in E. _Beller._, 297.\n\n  _Bellerophon_, _see_ EURIPIDES.\n\n  BENTLEY, 23 n.\n\n  BERNARD SHAW, _see_ SHAW.\n\n  BERNHARDY, _Grundriss der griech. Litteratur_, 40 n., 163 n. [II, ii.\n        p. 72 and p. 370], 253 n. [II, ii., p. 490].\n\n  Bia, a mute in \u00c6. _Prom. V._, 92 n., 94.\n\n  BION, son of \u00c6., 11.\n\n  _Birds_, _see_ ARISTOPHANES.\n\n  B\u00d6CKH, on _Rhesus_, 294 n.\n\n  Boreas, in S. _Orithyia_, 175.\n\n  Boucher, Fr. painter, 34.\n\n  BRIGHT, JOHN, 348.\n\n  BROOKE, RUPERT, 358.\n\n  BROWNING, Mrs., on E., 324 n.\n\n  BUNYAN, 23.\n\n  BUTCHER\u2019S translation of Ar. _Poetic_, 4 n., 26 n., 44 n., 77.\n\n  BYRON, on d. of Kirk White, 118 and n.\n\n\n  _Cabiri_, _see_ \u00c6SCHYLUS.\n\n  Cadmus, in E. _Bacch\u00e6_, 277 ff.\n\n  \u2014 \u2014 \u2014 _Ph\u0153n._, 264.\n\n  CALLIMACHUS, 40.\n\n  Capaneus, in E. _Supplices_, 235.\n\n  Captain Osborne, in _Vanity Fair_, 319.\n\n  _Capture of Miletus_, _see_ PHRYNICHUS.\n\n  CARCINUS, 34-6, 41;\n    _\u00c6rope_, 35;\n    _Medea_, 35;\n    _\u0152dipus_, 35;\n    _Thyestes_, 35.\n\n  CARRITT, E. F., _The Theory of Beauty_ [p. 156], 320 and n.\n\n  Cassandra, 66;\n    in \u00c6. _Agam._, 99 ff., 245;\n    in E. _Troad._, 243 ff.\n\n  Cassiopeia, in E. _Andromeda_, 299.\n\n  Castor, in E. _Electra_, 252 n., etc.;\n    in _Helena_, 258 n., 259 ff.\n\n  _Catasterismoi_, _see_ ERATOSTHENES.\n\n  _Celebrants of the Thesmophoria_, _see_ ARISTOPHANES\n        _Thesmophoriazus\u00e6_.\n\n  _Centaur_, _see_ CH\u00c6REMON.\n\n  Cephalus, in _Hippol._, 212.\n\n  Cepheus, in _Andromeda_, 299 f.\n\n  Cerberus, in _Herc. Fur._, 228 ff.\n\n  Cercyon, in Carcinus\u2019 _Alope_, 35.\n\n  CH\u00c6REMON, 32 ff., 41;\n    _Centaur_, 32;\n    _Thyestes_, 32;\n    _\u0152neus_, 33.\n\n  _Cheiron_, _see_ PHERECRATES.\n\n  _Cherry Orchard_, _see_ TCHEKOV.\n\n  _Children of Heracles_, _see_ EURIPIDES.\n\n  Chiron, the Centaur, 98.\n\n  _Choephor\u0153_, _see_ \u00c6.\n\n  CH\u0152RILUS, 5, 6;\n    _Alope_, 6;\n    Satyric drama, 5.\n\n  Christ and Prometheus, 97.\n\n  CHRIST, _Geschichte der griech. Litt._ [p. 210, etc.], 163 n., 294 n.\n\n  _Christus Patiens_, 41.\n\n  CHRYSOSTOM, DIO, _see_ D.C.\n\n  Chrysothemis, in S. _Electra_, 141 ff., 152, 178-9.\n\n  CIBBER, 9.\n\n  CICERO, _Ad Q. Fratrem_ [II, xv. 3], 174 and n.;\n    _Orator_ [51], 36.\n\n  Cimon, 23;\n    and _Cimon_, _see_ PLUTARCH.\n\n  Clarendon (Earl of), vi.\n\n  Cleanthes, the philosopher, 39.\n\n  Cleisthenes, 3 n.\n\n  Cleon, 325.\n\n  Clito, mother of E., 17.\n\n  _Clouds_, _see_ ARISTOPHANES.\n\n  Clymene, in E. _Phaethon_, 301 ff.\n\n  Clyt\u00e6mnestra, 46, 66, 70;\n    and Lady Macbeth, 104;\n    C.\u2019s ghost, in \u00c6. _Eumen._, 111 ff.;\n    tomb, in E. _Orestes_, 269;\n\n  \u2014 in \u00c6. _Agam._, 73 and n., 99 ff.;\n    _Choeph._, 73 and n., 106 ff., 126.\n\n  \u2014 \u2014 E. _Andromache_, 220;\n    _El._, 252 ff.;\n    _I. Aul._, 285 ff., 322;\n    _Orest._, 268 ff.\n\n  \u2014 \u2014 in S. _El._, 141 ff.\n\n  CONGREVE, 36, 322.\n\n  Constance, in Sh. _K. J._, 234.\n\n  Copreus, in E. _Heracleid\u00e6_ and Homer _Il._, xv. 639; 200 and n.\n\n  Cordelia, in Sh. _Lear_, 137.\n\n  Corporal Mulvaney, 319.\n\n  Correggio, 33.\n\n  CRATES, critic and philos., 37, 294.\n\n  CRATINUS, 19 n.\n\n  Cratos, in \u00c6. _Pr. V._, 92 ff.\n\n  Creon, in E. _Medea_, 192 ff., 317;\n    _Ph\u0153n._, 264 ff.;\n    _Suppl._, 235.\n\n  \u2014 \u2014 S. _Antigone_, 137 ff., 177 n.;\n    _\u0152. Col._, 168 ff., 217;\n    _\u0152. T._, 145 ff., 178.\n\n  Cresphontes, in E. _Cresph._, 307.\n\n  _Cresphontes_, _see_ EURIPIDES.\n\n  _Cretans_, _see_ EURIPIDES.\n\n  _Cretan Women_, _see_ EURIPIDES.\n\n  Cretan Zeus, 310.\n\n  Creusa, in E. _Ion_, 236 ff., 303, 318, 322.\n\n  CRITIAS, 29;\n    his _Pirithous_, 29;\n    _Sisyphus_, 29.\n\n  CROISET, _Histoire de la Litt\u00e9r. Grecque_ [iii. 49], 9 n., 25 n.\n        [iii. 400 n.], 111 n.\n\n  \u2014 his arrangement of E. _Alc._, 186 n.;\n    _H. Fur._, 228 n.;\n    _Hippol._, 205 n.;\n    _I. Aul._, 285 n.;\n    _Or._, 268 n.;\n    _Ph\u0153n._, 264 n.;\n    of S. _Antig._, 136 n.;\n    _\u0152. Col._, 167 n.\n\n  _Cyclops_, _see_ EURIPIDES.\n\n  Cyllene, the nymph, in S. _Ichneut\u00e6_, 176.\n\n  Cynegirus, bro. of \u00c6., 10.\n\n  Cypris, in E. _Helena_, 261.\n\n\n  D\u00e6dalus, 126.\n\n  _Danae_, _see_ EURIPIDES.\n\n  Danaid\u00e6, 272.\n\n  _Danaides_, _see_ \u00c6SCHYLUS.\n\n  Danaids, 76.\n\n  Danaus, in \u00c6. _Suppl._, 84 ff.\n\n  \u2014 his daughters, 76.\n\n  _Daphnis_, _see_ SOSITHEUS.\n\n  Darius, 7;\n    in \u00c6. _Pers\u00e6_, 87-9;\n    Darius\u2019s tomb, 64.\n\n  _Das griech. Theater_, _see_ D\u00d6RPFELD.\n\n  _Daughters of Danaus_, _see_ PHRYNICHUS.\n\n  \u2014 \u2014 _the Sun_, _see_ \u00c6SCHYLUS.\n\n  DAVENANT, 9.\n\n  _De Falsa Legatione_, _see_ DEMOSTHENES.\n\n  _De Gloria Atheniensium_, _see_ PLUTARCH.\n\n  Deianira, in S. _Trachini\u00e6_, 154 ff., 178-9, 180.\n\n  DEKKER and MASSINGER, _The Virgin Martyr_, 137.\n\n  Demeter, in CARCINUS, 35.\n\n  \u2014 \u2014 E. _Helena_, 259-60.\n\n  \u2014 \u2014 S. _Triptolemus_, 173.\n\n  _De Metris_, _see_ PLOTIUS.\n\n  Demophon, in E. _Heracleid\u00e6_, 200 ff.\n\n  DEMOSTHENES, 31, 82, 83 n., 182.\n\n  \u2014 _De Falsa Legatione_ [\u00a7 337], 83 n.\n\n  \u2014 _In Meidiam_, 82;\n    _Olynthiacs_ [I, 5], 334 n.\n\n  _De Profectu in Virtute_, _see_ PLUTARCH.\n\n  _De Sublimitate_, _see_ \u201cLONGINUS\u201d.\n\n  _Detectives_, _see_ SOPHOCLES.\n\n  Dexion, 13.\n\n  Dic\u00e6opolis, in A. _Acharn._, 67, 296.\n\n  _Dictys_, _see_ EURIPIDES.\n\n  _Didascali\u00e6_, _see_ ARISTOTLE.\n\n  DIDYMUS, the critic, 304 n.\n\n  _Die Eurhythmie in den Chorges\u00e4ngen der Griechen_, _see_ SCHMIDT.\n\n  DINDORF, 235 n.\n\n  _Dinner-party_, _see_ SOPHOCLES.\n\n  DIO CHRYSOSTOM, _Oration_, 52, 120 and n., 165-6 and n., 296-7.\n\n  \u201cDIOGENES LAERTIUS,\u201d 5, 25, 39 n. [ii. 133, vii. 173].\n\n  DIOGENES, the philosopher, 37.\n\n  Diomedes, in E. _Alcestis_, 187;\n    _Philoct._, 166, 296;\n    _Rhesus_, 291 ff.\n\n  DIONYSIADES, 40.\n\n  DIONYSIUS of Halicarnassus, 306.\n\n  \u2014 the Elder, 34;\n    his _Hector\u2019s Ransom_, 34.\n\n  \u2014 \u2014 Younger, 35.\n\n  Dionysus, 1, 2 and n., 3 n., 4, 49.\n\n  \u2014 altar of, in theatre, 51.\n\n  \u2014 artists of, 75.\n\n  \u2014 Eleuthereus, 49.\n\n  \u2014 \u2014 priest of, 80.\n\n  \u2014 ivy sacred to, 61-2.\n\n  \u2014 Philiscus, priest of, at Alexandria, 40.\n\n  \u2014 ritual of, 81 n.\n\n  \u2014 theatre of, Athens, 49, 56.\n\n  \u2014 in _Frogs_, 80 n., 124, 298, 316.\n\n  \u2014 \u2014 _Bacch\u00e6_, 73, 277 ff.\n\n  \u2014 \u2014 _Hypsip._, 304.\n\n  \u2014 \u2014 _Antigone_, 141.\n\n  \u2014 \u2014 _\u0152. Col._, 170.\n\n  \u2014 \u2014 _Lycurgea_, 117.\n\n  Dioscuri, 257;\n    in _Helena_, 260;\n    E. _Antiope_, 298.\n\n  Doctor, _see_ Grenfell, Hayley, Hunt, Mackail, Stockman, Verrall.\n\n  _Doctor\u2019s Dilemma_, _see_ SHAW.\n\n  Dogberry, 199.\n\n  Dolon, in _Rhesus_, 291 ff.\n\n  _Don Carlos_, _see_ SCHILLER.\n\n  Doris, w. of Dionysius the elder, 34.\n\n  Dorothea, in _Virgin Martyr_, 137.\n\n  D\u00d6RPFELD, _Das griechische Theater_, 53 ff.\n\n  \u2014 in _Bull. Corr. Hell._ [1896, p. 577 _sqq._], 59 n.\n\n  DOSTOEVSKY, 319;\n    _The Possessed_, ch. i., p. 322.\n\n  _Dramatic Productions_, _see_ ARISTOTLE.\n\n\n  _Ecclesiazus\u00e6_, _see_ ARISTOPHANES.\n\n  Echo, in E. _Andromeda_, 299.\n\n  \u2014 nymph, S. _Philoct._, 166.\n\n  Edoni, of Thrace, 117.\n\n  _Edoni_, _see_ \u00c6SCHYLUS.\n\n  _Egyptians_, _see_ \u00c6SCHYLUS.\n\n  \u2014 _see_ PHRYNICHUS.\n\n  Eido, in E. _Helena_, 263.\n\n  _Einleitung_, etc., _see_ WILAMOWITZ-M.\n\n  Electra, in \u00c6. _Choeph._, 106 ff.\n\n  \u2014 \u2014 E. _El._, 252 ff.\n\n  \u2014 \u2014 \u2014 _Orest._, 73, 79, 268 ff., 319.\n\n  \u2014 \u2014 S. _El._, 141 ff., 177, 178, 181-2.\n\n  _Electra_, _see_ EURIP. and SOPH.\n\n  ELIOT, GEORGE, _Middlemarch_, 334 n.\n\n  Empedocles, 127.\n\n  ENNIUS, 23, 333 n.\n\n  \u201cEntertainer,\u201d 13.\n\n  Eos, in \u00c6. _W. of Souls_, 120.\n\n  Epaphus, in \u00c6. _Prom. V._, 94.\n\n  Ephialtes, 116.\n\n  _Epidemiai_, _see_ ION.\n\n  _Epodes_, _see_ HORACE.\n\n  ERATOSTHENES, _Catasterismoi_ [19], 301 n.\n\n  _Eratosthenes_, _see_ LYSIAS.\n\n  Erechtheus, in E. _Erech._, 297.\n\n  _Erechtheus_, _see_ EURIPIDES and SWINBURNE.\n\n  Erinys, 110.\n\n  Eriphyle, 46.\n\n  Eros, in E. _Andromeda_, 300.\n\n  \u2014 \u2014 Plato\u2019s _Symposium_, 28 n.\n\n  _Eschyle_, _see_ PATIN.\n\n  _Essays on Two Moderns_, _see_ SALTER.\n\n  Eteocles, 76;\n    in \u00c6. _Septem_, 89 ff., 129;\n    in E. _Ph\u0153n._, 264 ff.\n\n  _Ethics_, _see_ ARISTOTLE.\n\n  EUBULUS, comedian, 34.\n\n  EUCLID, the geometer, 40.\n\n  Eumelos, in E. _Alcestis_, 71, 186 n.\n\n  Eumenides, at Colonus, 172.\n\n  _Eumenides_, _see_ \u00c6SCHYLUS.\n\n  EUPHORION, 10, 11, 18, 192, 296.\n\n  EUPHRONIUS, 40.\n\n  _Euripidean Rhesus_, etc., _see_ PORTER.\n\n  EURIPIDES, vi, 13-15, 17-23, 26-7, 31-2, 67, 72, 83, 128, 177, 180,\n        182, =186= ff., 357;\n    and Agathon, 28;\n    and legends, 314-5;\n    and modern England, 324;\n    and Shaw, 320-1;\n    and Theodectes, 37;\n    as schoolbook, 21, 215;\n    blamed by Ar., 42;\n    copied by Sosiphanes, 41;\n    in later Gk. times, 21, 320;\n    inventor of prose-drama, 323;\n    relics of, 34;\n    text of, 41.\n\n  Euripides\u2019 criticism of \u00c6., 20, 121, 126 and n.;\n    agnosticism, 318;\n    death, 277;\n    feeling for beauty, 320;\n    genius and personality, 310 ff.;\n    handling of traditional material, 46;\n    heroes in rags, 69;\n    library, 17;\n    metre, 334-5;\n    originality in portraiture, 319;\n    prologos, 47;\n    sophistry, 317;\n    technique, 19-21.\n\n  \u2014 _and his Age_, _see_ MURRAY.\n\n  \u2014 _der Dichter, etc._, _see_ NESTLE.\n\n  \u2014 _Apology_, _see_ VERRALL.\n\n  \u2014 _in a Hymn_, _see_ VERRALL.\n\n  \u2014 _restitutus_, _see_ HARTUNG.\n\n  \u2014 _the Rationalist_, _see_ VERRALL.\n\n  \u2014 _Alcestis_, 7, 17 n., 21, 55 n., 71, 76, 159 n., =186-92=, and\n        294-5 [ll. 29, 32, 34, 37, 58, 158-84, 179, 280-325, 763-4, 904\n        _sqq._, 1159-63].\n\n  \u2014 _Alcm\u00e6on at Corinth_, 285-6.\n\n  \u2014 \u2014 \u2014 _Psophis_, 185, 295.\n\n  \u2014 _Alexander_, 243.\n\n  \u2014 _Andromache_, 21, 65, 77, 187 n., =219-28=, 313 n., 318, 328,\n        330 [ll. 147-80, 164, 166, 229 _sq._, 241, 260, 445-63, 464-94,\n        588-9, 595-601, 632 _sqq._, 639, 708 _sqq._, 732 _sqq._, 752\n        _sqq._, 804, 929-53, 964, 1002 _sqq._, 1147 _sqq._, 1239\n        _sqq._].\n\n  \u2014 _Andromeda_, =298-301=, 303, 321.\n\n  \u2014 _Antiope_, 298.\n\n  \u2014 _Bacch\u00e6_, 17, 68-70, 73, 77 and n., 187 n., =277-87=, 304 n.,\n        313 n., 321, 326, 356.\n\n  \u2014 [_Bacchantes_, _see_ last]. [ll. 12, 64 _sqq._, 233-4, 625,\n        632-3, 677-774, 703, 732-51, 1325 _sq._]\n\n  \u2014 _Bellerophon_, 284 n., 297 [Fragm., 294-7].\n\n  \u2014 [_Children of Heracles_, _see_ _Heracleid\u00e6_].\n\n  \u2014 _Cresphontes_, 307-9.\n\n  \u2014 _Cretans_, 310.\n\n  \u2014 _Cretan Women_, 295.\n\n  \u2014 _Cyclops_ (sat.), 2, 191, =289-91=, 362 [ll. 316-41, 361\n        _sqq._, 460-3, 549, 672-5.]\n\n  \u2014 _Danae_, 309.\n\n  \u2014 _Dictys_, 192, 296.\n\n  \u2014 _Electra_, 20, 55 n., 64, 65, 77, 142-3, =252-8=, 313 n. [ll.\n        4 _sqq._, 9-10, 25 _sqq._, 54, 60-1, 77-8, 255 _sqq._, 362\n        _sqq._, 354-5, 367 _sqq._, 652-60, 737-45, 1041-3, 1142-6, 1245\n        _sq._, 1294, 1296-7, 1301-7, 1327 _sqq._, 1347-56].\n\n  \u2014 _Erechtheus_, 297-8.\n\n  \u2014 _Fragmenta Adespota_, 324 n. [nos. 894, 916].\n\n  \u2014 _Harvesters_ (sat.), 192, 296.\n\n  \u2014 _Hecuba_, 21, 76, =215-9=, 265, 268 [ll. 68 _sqq._, 174 _sq._,\n        230, 342-78, 421, 428-30, 462, 518-82, 531-3, 585 _sqq._,\n        592-603, 629 _sqq._, 671, 702 _sqq._, 779 _sq._, 796 _sq._, 799\n        _sqq._, 806-8, 814-9, 894-7, 905 _sqq._, 953-67, 1187-94, 1287\n        _sq._].\n\n  \u2014 _Helena_, 55 n., 76, 160 n., 187 n., =258-64=, 318 n., 322 [ll.\n        20-1, 138 _sqq._, 157, 183 _sqq._, 205 _sqq._, 256-9, 284-5,\n        355-6, 489 _sqq._, 491, 567, 616, 629, 744-60, 832, 878 _sqq._,\n        1013-6, 1048, 1050-2, 1107 _sqq._, 1140-3, 1301 _sqq._].\n\n  \u2014 _Heracleid\u00e6_, 76, =200-5=, 288 [ll. 45-7, 240 _sq._, 513, 540,\n        563, 597 _sqq._, 625, 629 _sq._, 638, 665, 819-22, 847, 869\n        _sqq._, 910 _sqq._, 990, 997-9, 1020-5, 1035-7, 1049-52].\n\n  \u2014 _Hercules Furens_, 55 n., 65, 189, 203 n., =228-34=, 317, 326\n        [ll. 65-6, 76, 70-9, 119, 140-235, 151-64, 153 _sq._, 339\n        _sqq._, 460-89, 485-9, 562-82, 585-94, 798 _sqq._, 857, 601\n        _sqq._, 673 _sqq._, 1002-6, 1222, 1255-1310, 1269 _sqq._,\n        1340-93, 1340-6].\n\n  \u2014 _Hippolytus_, 16, 21, 56, 71, 77, =205-15=, 317-8, 320, 326\n        [ll. 29-33, 73-87, 121-5, 135-40, 151-4, 191-7, 208-31, 281,\n        328, 337 _sqq._, 384, 373-430, 415 _sqq._, 439-61, 474 _sq._,\n        493-6, 490 _sq._, 503-6, 507 _sq._, 512, 516, 565, 612, 616-68,\n        689-92, 728-31, 732-51, 828-9, 831-3, 960 _sq._, 967-70, 1034\n        _sq._, 1035, 1060-3, 1076 _sq._, 1082-3, 1375 _sq._, 1379-83,\n        1423-30].\n\n  \u2014 _Hippolytus Veiled_, 205 n.\n\n  \u2014 _Hypsipyle_, 304-5.\n\n  \u2014 _Ino_, 309.\n\n  \u2014 _Ion_, 21 and n., 55 n., 70, 76, 79, 191, =236-43=, 251, 276,\n        298, 318, 322 [ll. 125-7, 265-8, 308, 313, 369 _sqq._, 436-51,\n        542, 548, 550 _sqq._, 585 _sqq._, 589 _sqq._, 727, 768 _sqq._,\n        859 _sqq._, 916, 952, 1029 _sqq._, 1039, 1211-6, 1215 _sqq._,\n        1312 _sqq._, 1324, 1397 _sqq._, 1419, 1424, 1468 _sq._, 1520-7,\n        1537 _sq._, 1546 _sqq._, 1550, 1565, 1595].\n\n  \u2014 _Iphigenia among the Taurians_, _see_ _Iph. in Tauris._\n\n  \u2014 \u2014 _at Aulis_, 64, 70, 77, =285-9=, 304, 312, 313 n., 317, 322,\n        334 n. [ll. 320, 407, 414, 882, 919-74, 1366 _sq._].\n\n  \u2014 \u2014 _in Tauris_, 31, 45, 73, 76, =247-52=, 260, 321 [ll. 73, 77,\n        123-5, 275, 281 _sqq._, 380 _sqq._, 626, 677, 711 _sqq._, 719\n        _sq._, 739 _sq._, 823-6, 933, 939 _sqq._, 945, 961 _sqq._, 965\n        _sq._, 968 _sqq._, 976 _sqq._, 980, 985 _sq._, 1038-40, 1046,\n        1205, 1232, 1434].\n\n  \u2014 _Medea_, 18, 21 and n., 22 and n., 35, 46, 55, 77, 96, 187 n.,\n        191, =192-9=, 201, 208, 279, 296-7, 317, 321-33 [ll. 1, 230-51,\n        309 _sq._, 349, 364, 389 _sqq._, 450, 454, 472, 635, 801 _sq._,\n        824-45, 930 _sq._, 944 _sq._, 1021-80, 1081-1115, 1231-5,\n        1236-50, 1367, 1375-7, 1381-3].\n\n  \u2014 _Melanippe_, 305 n.;\n    _M. in Prison_, 305 n.\n\n  \u2014 \u2014 _the Wise_, 83, =305-7=, 313 n.\n\n  \u2014 _Orestes_, 17 n., 21, 64, 70, 72, 73, 74, 77, 79, 215-6 n.,\n        251, 265, =268-77=, 288, 315, 318, 319 and n., 323, 334 [ll.\n        1-3, 28 _sqq._, 37 _sqq._, 72-92, 71-111, 78 _sq._, 101-11,\n        121, 126 _sqq._, 174 _sqq._, 285 _sqq._, 310, 360 _sqq._, 362,\n        365, 367, 371 _sqq._, 373, 380 _sqq._, 386, 388, 390, 395-8,\n        417, 420, 423, 481 _sqq._, 491-525, 502, 544 _sqq._, 550, 551,\n        568, 615 _sqq._, 634, 640 _sq._, 658-61, 674, 740, 743, 745,\n        747, 749, 756, 797, 872, 892, 894, 932 _sqq._, 960 _sqq._,\n        982 _sqq._, 983, 1204 _sqq._, 1323, 1493 _sqq._, 1535-9, 1547\n        _sqq._, 1576, 1662-3, 1666 _sqq._].\n\n  \u2014 _Palamedes_, 243.\n\n  \u2014 _Peliades_, 17.\n\n  \u2014 _Phaethon_, 56, 300, 321.\n\n  \u2014 _Philoctetes_, 192, =296-7=.\n\n  \u2014 _Ph\u0153nician Women_ or _Ph\u0153niss\u00e6_, 21, 64, 77, 91, 215-6 n.,\n        =264-8= [ll. 88-201, 114 _sqq._, 302 _sq._, 316, 528 _sqq._,\n        590 _sq._, 609, 612, 751 _sq._, 1090-1099, 1104-40, 1182 _sq._,\n        1223-82, 1233 _sq._, 1259 _sqq._, 1265-6, 1524 _sq._, 1758\n        _sq._].\n\n  \u2014 _Polyidus_, 309.\n\n  \u2014 _Rhesus_, 21, 23 n., 76, 186 n., 191, =291-5=, 313 n., 321 [ll.\n        319-23, 422-53, 474-84, 528, 546-56, 618, 962-73, 971].\n\n  \u2014 _Sisyphus_ (satyric play), 243.\n\n  \u2014 _Suppliant Women_ or _Supplices_, 20, 65, 77 and n., 160 n.,\n        =234-6= [ll. 195-218, 297-331, 403-56, 518-44, 567, 846-54,\n        1054-6].\n\n  \u2014 _Telephus_, 185, =295-6=.\n\n  \u2014 _The Crowned Hippolytus_, 205 n., 214;\n    _The Veiled H._, 214.\n\n  \u2014 _Troades_, or _Trojan Women_, 21, 76, =243-6=, 248, 262, 308,\n        318 and n., 321 [ll. 67 _sq._, 220 _sqq._, 469 _sqq._, 703\n        _sqq._, 710, 738, 764, 841 _sqq._, 884 _sqq._, 1060 _sqq._,\n        1158 _sqq._, 1204 _sqq._, 1240 _sqq._].\n\n  \u2014 _Women of Crete_, 186.\n\n  \u2014 son of E., 285-6.\n\n  Europa, 175 n.\n\n  Eurydice, in S. _Antigone_, 137 ff.\n\n  \u2014 \u2014 E. _Hypsipyle_, 304.\n\n  Eurypylus in S. _Eurypylus_, 176 and n.\n\n  _Eurypylus_, _see_ SOPHOCLES.\n\n  Eurysaces, in S. _Ajax_, 71.\n\n  Eurystheus, in E. _Heracleid\u00e6_, 200 ff.\n\n  Eurytus, in S. _Trach._, 154 ff.\n\n  Evadne, 65;\n    in E. _Suppl._, 234 ff.\n\n\n  _Fall of Troy_, _see_ AGATHON.\n\n  Faust, in MARLOWE, 185.\n\n  FLAUBERT, _La Tentation de S. Antoine_, 326.\n\n  FLETCHER, 317.\n\n  _Flower_, _see_ AGATHON.\n\n  Fortinbras, in _Hamlet_, 152 n.\n\n  _Founding of Chios_, _see_ ION.\n\n  _Four Plays of Euripides_, _see_ VERRALL.\n\n  _Fragmenta Comic. Gr\u00e6c._, _see_ MEINEKE.\n\n  FRANCE, ANATOLE, _see_ A. F.\n\n  Frederick the Great, 34.\n\n  Frenzy, in E. _Herc. Fur._, 229 ff.\n\n\n  Gabler, Hedda, _see_ H. G.\n\n  Galatea, statue of, 126.\n\n  GALSWORTHY, _Justice_, 37.\n\n  Garrick and _Macbeth_, 70.\n\n  GELLIUS, AULUS, _see_ A. G.\n\n  _Geschichte der griechischen Litteratur_, _see_ CHRIST.\n\n  GILBERT MURRAY, _see_ MURRAY.\n\n  Giotto, 33.\n\n  Glauce, in E. _Medea_, 192 ff.\n\n  Glaucus, 8 n.;\n    in E. _Or._, 275 and n.\n\n  _Glaucus, etc._, _see_ \u00c6SCHYLUS.\n\n  GOETHE, _Altgriechische Literatur_ (Wks., V. 127, ed. 1837), 301 n.,\n        and 302 and n.\n\n  Gorgias, 28, 218.\n\n  GRANT ALLEN, 20 n.\n\n  _Great Play_, _see_ ION.\n\n  Gregers Werle, 317.\n\n  GREGORY OF NAZIANZUS, 41.\n\n  Grenfell, Dr., 18.\n\n  Greuze, 34.\n\n  _Griechische Litteraturgeschichte_, _see_ M\u00dcLLER-HEITZ.\n\n  _Growth and Influence of Classical Greek Poetry_, _see_ JEBB.\n\n  _Grundriss der griechischen Litteratur_, _see_ BERNHARDY.\n\n\n  HADLEY, introdn. to _Hecuba_ [pp. ix.-xii.], 217 n.\n\n  Hadrian, 41.\n\n  H\u00e6mon, in E. _Ph\u0153n._, 264;\n    in S. _Antigone_, 137 ff.\n\n  HAGGARD, SIR H. RIDER, 248.\n\n  Hagnon, 295.\n\n  HAIGH, _Attic Tragedy_, 16, 53 ff., 55 nn., 59 n., 65 and n., 73 n.,\n        75 n., 80, 81 n.\n\n  \u2014 _Tragic Drama of the Greeks_, 1 n., 6 n., 15, 25 n., 124 and n.\n\n  Hamlet, 72, 136, 217.\n\n  _Hamlet_, _see_ SHAKESPEARE.\n\n  HANKIN, ST. JOHN, 28.\n\n  Harpalus, 39.\n\n  HARTUNG, _Euripides Restitutus_, 299 n., 301 n., 305 n., 307.\n\n  _Harvesters_, _see_ E.\n\n  HAYLEY, Dr., on E. _Alcestis_, 187 n., 191 n.\n\n  Hebe, in E. _Heracleid\u00e6_, 201-2.\n\n  _Hebrews_ [xii. 1], 349.\n\n  Hector, in \u00c6. _Myrmidons_, and _Phrygians_, 118;\n    _Philoct._, 120;\n    in E. _Rhesus_, 291 ff.\n\n  _Hector_, _see_ ASTYDAMAS.\n\n  _Hector\u2019s Ransom_, _see_ DIONYSIUS THE ELDER and \u00c6SCHYLUS.\n\n  Hecuba, in E. _Hec._, 215 ff.;\n    in _Troades_, 243, 262, 308, 318.\n\n  _Hecuba_, _see_ EURIPIDES.\n\n  Hedda Gabler, 317.\n\n  Hegel, 320.\n\n  Hegelochus, the actor, 74.\n\n  HEITZ-M\u00dcLLER, _Griechische Litteraturgeschichte_ [ii. 88], 92 n.\n\n  Helen, 254;\n    in \u00c6. _Agam._, 99;\n    in E. _Androma._, 224;\n    _Helena_, 258 n., 259 ff., 322;\n    _Or._, 268 ff., 318, 323;\n    in _Troad._, 243 n., 244.\n\n  _Helena_, _see_ E.\n\n  Helenus, in E. _Androma._, 221.\n\n  Heliodorus, novelist; _\u00c6thiopica_, 299.\n\n  Helios, in E. _Phaethon_, 301 ff.\n\n  _Hellenica_, _see_ XENOPHON.\n\n  Helmer, Thorvald, in Ibsen\u2019s _A Doll\u2019s House_, 189.\n\n  _Henry VI_, _see_ SHAKESPEARE.\n\n  Heph\u00e6stus, in \u00c6. _Nereids_, 118.\n\n  \u2014 \u2014 \u2014 _Prom. V._, 92 ff.\n\n  Hera, 94, 231-2;\n    in E. _Hel._, 259;\n    _Heracleid._, 201, 203 n.\n\n  \u2014 Ludovisi, 182.\n\n  Heracleid\u00e6, in E. _Hel._, 200 ff.\n\n  _Heracleid\u00e6_, _see_ EURIPIDES.\n\n  Heracles, in PHRYNICHUS\u2019 _Ant\u00e6us_, 69, 88, 96 and 98;\n    in E. _Alc._, 186 ff.;\n    in _Heracleid._, 200 ff.;\n    in _H. Fur._, 228 ff.;\n    in S. _Philoct._, 120, 161 ff.;\n    _Trachin._, 154 ff., 180.\n\n  \u2014 \u2014 Pirithous, 29.\n\n  _Hercules Furens_, _see_ EURIPIDES.\n\n  HERMANN on _Rhesus_, 294 n.\n\n  _Hermathena_ [xvii. 348-80], 295.\n\n  Hermes, 67;\n    in \u00c6. _Eum._, 111 ff.;\n    in _Prom. V._, 95, 124;\n    in Homer, 119;\n    in E. _Ion_, 236 ff.;\n    in S. _Ichneut\u00e6_, 175.\n\n  \u2014 _Hymn to_, _see_ Hymn.\n\n  Hermione, 79;\n    in E. _Andromache_, 219 ff., 225 ff., 318;\n    in _Orestes_, 268 ff.\n\n  HERODOTUS, 3 and n., 7 n., 15, 89 [v. 67, vi. 21].\n\n  HESYCHIUS, 281 n.\n\n  _Hiawatha_, _see_ LONGFELLOW.\n\n  Hiero of Syracuse, 10, 119.\n\n  Hippe, in E. _Melanippe_, 305 f.\n\n  Hippolytus, in E. _Hippol._, 46, 205 ff., 279-80, 284 n., 318.\n\n  _Hippolytus_, _see_ EURIPIDES; so _H. Crowned_, and _H. Veiled_.\n\n  _Histoire de la Litt\u00e9rature Grecque_, _see_ CROISET.\n\n  _History of Gk. Literature_, _see_ MAHAFFY.\n\n  HOMER, 21, 118, 123, 320;\n    _Iliad_, 120, 288, 291;\n    _Odyssey_ [iv. 351-86], 98 and n.; [ix. 105-566], 290 nn.\n\n  \u2014 the tragedian, 39.\n\n  Homeric _Hymn to Hermes_, 175.\n\n  HORACE, 21, 56;\n    _Ars Poetica_, 5 n., 56 and n.;\n    _Epodes_, 345 n. [_A.P._ 275-8].\n\n  HORACE WALPOLE, 311.\n\n  \u201cHost,\u201d 13.\n\n  HUNT, DR. A. S., 18, 175 n., 176 n.;\n    and _see_ Oxyrhynchus and Papyri.\n\n  Hyllus, in E. _Heracleid._, 200 ff.;\n    in S. _Trachini\u00e6_, 154 ff., 178.\n\n  _Hymn to Hermes_, 175.\n\n  Hypermnestra, 85;\n    in \u00c6. _Danaides_, 128.\n\n  Hypsipyle, in E. _Hypsip._, 304.\n\n  _Hypsipyle_, _see_ EURIPIDES.\n\n\n  IBSEN, p. v, 28, 211, 317;\n    _A Doll\u2019s House_, 189, 224.\n\n  _Ichneut\u00e6_, _see_ SOPHOCLES.\n\n  _Iliad_, _see_ HOMER.\n\n  _Ino_, _see_ E.\n\n  Io, in \u00c6. _Prom. V._, 94 ff., 105.\n\n  Iolaus, in E. _Heracleid\u00e6_, 200 ff.\n\n  Iole, in S. _Trachini\u00e6_, 154 ff., 179.\n\n  ION of Chios, 21, 23-4;\n    _Memoirs_ or _Epidemiai_, 13 n., 15;\n    _Founding of Chios_, 23;\n    _Great Play_, 24 and n.\n\n  \u2014 in E. _Ion_, 236 ff., 279, 303.\n\n  _Ion_, _see_ EURIPIDES.\n\n  Iophon, s. of SOPHOCLES, 13, 60.\n\n  Iphigenia, 42, 263, 270, 318, 321;\n    in \u00c6. _Agam._, 99 ff.;\n    in E. _Iph. A._, 285 ff., 322;\n    _Iph. T._, 73, 247 ff.;\n    in POLYIDUS _Iphig._, 32.\n\n  _Iphigenia_, _see_ POLYIDUS.\n\n  \u2014 _at Aulis_, _see_ EURIPIDES.\n\n  \u2014 _in Tauris_, _see_ EURIPIDES.\n\n  Iphis, in E. _Suppl._, 234 ff.\n\n  Iris, apparition of, in E. _H. Fur._, 65, 229 ff.\n\n  _Isaiah_ [liii. 1], 349.\n\n  Ismene, 178;\n    in \u00c6. _Septem_, 90;\n    in S. _Antig._, 137 ff.;\n    _\u0152. Col._, 168 ff.\n\n  ISOCRATES, 36.\n\n  Israel, 172;\n    prophets of, and \u00c6., 121.\n\n\n  Jason, in E. _Medea_, 192 ff., 321.\n\n  \u2014 \u2014 \u2014 _Hypsip._, 304-5.\n\n  \u2014 \u2014 NEOPHRON\u2019s _Medea_, 22.\n\n  JEBB, PROFESSOR SIR RICHARD, p. v, 160 n.;\n    on S. _Ajax_, 132 n., 136 n.;\n    _Antigone_, 136 n., 139, 141, 351;\n    _Electra_, 141 n., 143 and n.;\n    _\u0152. Col._, 71, 167, 170 and n., 171, 172 n., 173 n., 182 n.;\n    _Philoct._, 165 n., 166 and n., 167 n.;\n    _Trach._, 156 and n.;\n    _Growth and Influence of Classical Greek Poetry_, 318 n.\n\n  Jocasta, 16, 46;\n    in E. _Ph\u0153n._, 264 ff.;\n    in S. _\u0152. Tyr._, 146 ff.\n\n  JOHN BRIGHT, 348.\n\n  JONES, W. H. S., _The Moral Standpoint of Euripides_, 28 _sq._\n\n  Joseph, 172.\n\n  Juliet\u2019s nurse, 124.\n\n  Julius C\u00e6sar, in Sh., 134.\n\n  _Jupiter Trag\u0153dus_, _see_ LUCIAN.\n\n  _Justice_, _see_ GALSWORTHY.\n\n  Justice Shallow, 199.\n\n\n  KEATS, 33.\n\n  Kindly Ones, The, 111-7.\n\n  _King Lear_, _see_ SHAKESPEARE.\n\n  KIPLING, 319.\n\n  KIRK WHITE, 118 and n.\n\n  _Knights_, _see_ ARISTOPHANES.\n\n  KYD, 121;\n    _Spanish Tragedy_, 268.\n\n\n  Lady Macbeth and Clyt\u00e6mnestra, 104.\n\n  Laertes, 297.\n\n  LAERTIUS, DIOGENES, _see_ D. L.\n\n  Laius, in S. _\u0152. Tyr._, 145 ff.\n\n  _Laius_, _see_ \u00c6SCHYLUS.\n\n  Lampros, 12.\n\n  _Laocoon_, _see_ SOPHOCLES.\n\n  _La Tentation de St. Antoine_, _see_ FLAUBERT.\n\n  _Laws_, _see_ PLATO.\n\n  Lear, King, 79, 136-7.\n\n  _Lear, King_, _see_ SHAKESPEARE.\n\n  _Lectures on Greek Poetry_, _see_ MACKAIL.\n\n  Leda, 260, 263.\n\n  _Le jeu de l\u2019amour, etc._, _see_ MARIVAUX.\n\n  _Le probl\u00e8me des Bacchantes_, etc., _see_ NIHARD.\n\n  _Libation-Bearers_, _see_ _Choephor\u0153_, under \u00c6.\n\n  _Liber Amatorius_, _see_ PLUTARCH.\n\n  _Libyans_, _see_ PHRYNICHUS.\n\n  Lichas, in S. _Trachini\u00e6_, 154 ff.\n\n  _Life of Aristides_, _see_ PLUTARCH.\n\n  _Literature of Ancient Greece_, _see_ MURRAY.\n\n  _Lityerses_, _see_ SOSITHEUS.\n\n  _Locksley Hall_, _see_ TENNYSON.\n\n  LONGFELLOW, 337;\n    _Hiawatha_, 353.\n\n  \u201cLONGINUS,\u201d _de Sublimitate_ [xv. 7. etc.], 174 and n., 251 n.\n\n  _Love in the Valley_, _see_ MEREDITH.\n\n  _Lovers of Achilles_, _see_ SOPHOCLES.\n\n  Loxias, in E. _Orestes_, 270.\n\n  LUCIAN, _Adversus indoctos_ [15], 34;\n    _Jupiter Trag\u0153dus_ [41], 306 n.;\n    _Quomodo historia conscribenda_ [1], 298 and n.\n\n  LUCRETIUS, 319.\n\n  LYCOPHRON, 39, 40;\n    _Alexandra_, 40;\n    _Menedemus_, 39-40.\n\n  _Lycurgea_, trilogy, 117, and _see_ \u00c6.\n\n  Lycurgus, k. of Edoni, 117.\n\n  \u2014 orator, 31, 81.\n\n  \u2014 theatre of, 57.\n\n  _Lycurgus_ (satyric), 117 and _see_ \u00c6.\n\n  Lycus, in E. _Antiope_, 298;\n    _H. Fur._, 203 and n., 228 ff., 317.\n\n  Lynceus, 85.\n\n  _Lynceus_, _see_ THEODECTES.\n\n  LYSIAS, _Eratosthenes_ [ii.], 30 and n.\n\n\n  Mab, Queen, in SH., _R. and Juliet_, 79.\n\n  Macaria, in E. _Heracleid\u00e6_, 200 ff., 288, 317.\n\n  _Macbeth_, _see_ SHAKESPEARE.\n\n  Macbeth, 273;\n    Lady, 104.\n\n  Macduffs, 73.\n\n  MACKAIL, _Lectures on Greek Poetry_, 171 n., 184 n.\n\n  MACROBIUS [V., xviii. 12], 304 n.\n\n  _Mad Heracles_, 228-34.\n\n  MAHAFFY, _History of Greek Literature, Poets_, 163 n.\n\n  MANNING, F., _Scenes and Portraits_, 311 and n.\n\n  MARIVAUX, _Le jeu de l\u2019amour et du hasard_ [II., ii.], 28 and n.\n\n  Mark Antony, 134.\n\n  MARLOWE, 121, 183, 185, 317, 328.\n\n  MASSINGER and DEKKER, _The Virgin Martyr_, 137.\n\n  MATTHAEI, Miss L. E., _Studies in Greek Tragedy_, 216 n.\n\n  MATTHEW ARNOLD, _see_ A. M.\n\n  Mausolus, k. of Caria, 38.\n\n  _Mausolus_, _see_ THEODECTES.\n\n  _Measure for Measure_, _see_ SHAKESPEARE.\n\n  Medea, in E. _Medea_, 8, 72, 159 n., 190, 192 ff., 218, 279, 313.\n\n  \u2014 apparition of, 65;\n    chariot of, 312-3;\n    sons of, 71.\n\n  \u2014 in NEOPHRON\u2019S _Medea_, 22.\n\n  _Medea_, _see_ CARCINUS, EURIPIDES, and NEOPHRON.\n\n  Megara, in _Herc. Fur._, 228 ff.\n\n  Meidias, Demosthenes\u2019 speech against, 82.\n\n  MEINEKE, _Fragmenta Comicorum Gr\u00e6corum_ [ii. 1142], 19, 38 n.\n\n  Melanippe, in E. _Melan._, 305 ff., 312.\n\n  _Melanippe_, etc., _see_ EURIPIDES.\n\n  Melanippus, 3 n.\n\n  Meleager, in PHRYNICHUS _Pleuroni\u00e6_, 7.\n\n  Memnon, in \u00c6., _Weighing of Souls_, 120.\n\n  _Memoirs_, _see_ ION.\n\n  MENANDER, 29, 83, 289, 311.\n\n  Menedemus the philosopher, 25.\n\n  _Menedemus_, _see_ LYCOPHRON.\n\n  Menelaus, 254;\n    in \u00c6. _Agam._, 99;\n    in E. _Andromache_, 219 ff., 225 ff.;\n    _Helena_, 258 n., 259 ff., 322;\n    _I. Aul._, 285 ff.;\n    _Orestes_, 268 ff., 312, 323;\n    _Telephus_, 295-6;\n    _Troades_, 243 n. and 244;\n    in S. _Ajax_, 132 ff.\n\n  Men\u0153ceus, in E. _Ph\u0153niss\u00e6_, 264 ff.\n\n  _Men of Eleusis_, _Men of Persia_, _see_ \u00c6.; _Men of Pher\u00e6_, _see_\n        MOSCHION.\n\n  Menon, archonship of, 87.\n\n  _Merchant of Venice_, _see_ SHAKESPEARE.\n\n  Mercutio, 79.\n\n  MEREDITH, GEORGE, 287, 322;\n    _Love in the Valley_, 33.\n\n  Merope, in E. _Cresphontes_, 307 f.;\n    in S. _\u0152. Tyr._, 147.\n\n  _Merope_, _see_ ARNOLD.\n\n  Merops, in E. _Phaethon_, 301 ff.\n\n  Michelangelo, 102.\n\n  _Middlemarch_, _see_ ELIOT, GEORGE.\n\n  MIDDLETON, _Witch_, 9.\n\n  _Midsummer Night\u2019s Dream_, _see_ SHAKESPEARE.\n\n  _Miletus, Capture of_, _see_ PHRYNICHUS.\n\n  MILTON and \u00c6., 97, 122;\n    and S. _\u0152. Col._, 171;\n    _Paradise Lost_, 95.\n\n  MIMNERMUS, 39 and n., 119.\n\n  _Minos_, [321 A], 5 n.\n\n  Mnesarchus, father of E., 17.\n\n  Mnesilochus, in A. _Thesmoph._, 296.\n\n  MOLI\u00c8RE, 39 n.\n\n  Molottus, in E. _Androma._, 219 ff., 225 ff.\n\n  _Moralia_, _see_ PLUTARCH.\n\n  _Moral Standpoint of Euripides, The_, _see_ JONES.\n\n  _Mornings in Florence_, _see_ RUSKIN.\n\n  MOSCHION, 37, 38, 41, 315;\n    _Men of Pher\u00e6_, 38;\n    _Telephus_, 38 n.;\n    _Themistocles_, 38.\n\n  Moses, 172.\n\n  M\u00dcLLER, K. O., _On Lit._, 163 n.\n\n  M\u00dcLLER-HEITZ, _Griechische Litteraturgeschichte_ [ii. 88], 92 n.\n\n  MURRAY, PROFESSOR GILBERT, p. v;\n    _Euripides and his Age_, 276 n., 279 n., 280 n., 282 n., 283 n.;\n    _Literature of Ancient Greece_, 126 and n.;\n    on _Cyclops_, 289 n., 362 n.;\n    _Helen_, 263 n.;\n    _Heracl._, 201 n.;\n    _Hippol._, 210-11, 214;\n    _Iph. A._, 286 n.;\n    _I. Taur._, 247 n., 251 n.;\n    _Medea_, 198 n.;\n    _Orestes_, 268 n.;\n    _Rhesus_, 294 n.;\n    tr. of S. _\u0152. Col._, 185.\n\n  _Mustering of the Greeks_ (satyric), _see_ SOPHOCLES.\n\n  _Myrmidons_, _see_ \u00c6.\n\n  Myrtilus, 274.\n\n\n  NAUCK, 301 n., 306 n.\n\n  _Nausicaa_, _see_ SOPHOCLES.\n\n  Nazianzus, GREGORY of, 41.\n\n  NEOPHRON, 21-2, 195-6;\n    _Medea_, 21.\n\n  Neoptolemus, in E. _Andromache_, 219 ff., 225 ff.\n\n  \u2014 \u2014 \u2014 _Troades_, 243.\n\n  \u2014 \u2014 S. _Eurypylus_, 176 and n.\n\n  \u2014 \u2014 \u2014 _Philoctetes_, 120, 161 ff., 296, 334 n.\n\n  _Nereides_, _see_ \u00c6.\n\n  Nereus, 275;\n    daughters of, 118.\n\n  Nessus, in S. _Trachin._, 154 ff.\n\n  NESTLE, DR. W., _Euripides der Dichter der griech. Aufkl\u00e4rung_, 318\n        n., 324 n., 325.\n\n  Nestor, 14.\n\n  Nicias, 13, 60, 163.\n\n  _Nicias_, _see_ PLUTARCH.\n\n  _Nicomachean Ethics_, _see_ ARISTOTLE.\n\n  NIHARD, DR. R., _Le Probl\u00e8me des Bacchantes d\u2019Euripide_, 281 n.\n\n  Niobe, in \u00c6., 20.\n\n  _Niobe_, _see_ \u00c6.\n\n  \u201cNoman,\u201d in E. _Cyclops_, 289-90.\n\n  NORWOOD, PROFESSOR GILBERT, _Riddle of the Bacch\u00e6_, 191 n., 279 n.,\n        281 n.\n\n  _Note sur le Prom\u00e9th\u00e9e d\u2019Eschyle_, _see_ WEIL.\n\n\n  Oceanus, in \u00c6. _Prom. V._, 65, 94.\n\n  \u2014 \u2014 E. _Phaethon_, 303 and n.\n\n  Odysseus, 319;\n    in \u00c6. _Philoct._, 120;\n    in E. _Cycl._, 2, 289 ff.;\n    _Hecuba_, 216;\n    _Philoct._, 296;\n    _Rhesus_, 291 ff.;\n    _Telephus_, 295-6;\n    _Troades_, 243;\n    in S. _Ajax_, 132 ff.;\n    _Philoct._, 161 ff., 178, 179, 334 n.\n\n  _Odyssey_, _see_ HOMER.\n\n  \u0152dipus, 46, 72, 136;\n    in E. _Ph\u0153n._, 264 ff.;\n    in S. _\u0152. Col._, 168 ff., 177, 185, 217;\n    _\u0152. Tyr._, 145 ff., 177-8;\n    sons of, 89.\n\n  _\u0152dipus_, _see_ \u00c6SCHYLUS, CARCINUS, and SOPHOCLES.\n\n  \u2014 _Coloneus_, _see_ SOPHOCLES.\n\n  \u2014 _Rex_, _see_ SOPHOCLES.\n\n  \u2014 _Tyrannus_, _see_ SOPHOCLES.\n\n  _\u0152neus_, _see_ CH\u00c6REMON.\n\n  \u0152nomaus, 70.\n\n  _Olympian Odes_, _see_ PINDAR.\n\n  _Olynthiacs_, _see_ DEMOSTHENES.\n\n  _On the Sublime_, _see_ \u201cLONGINUS\u201d.\n\n  Opheltes, in E. _Hypsipyle_, 304.\n\n  _Oration_, _see_ DIO CHRYSOSTOM.\n\n  _Orator_, _see_ CICERO.\n\n  _Oresteia_, _see_ \u00c6SCHYLUS.\n\n  Orestes, 46, 63-4, 67, 76, 129-30, 313;\n    delirium of, 70;\n    nurse of, 124;\n    in \u00c6. _Agam._, 100;\n    _Choeph._, 73 n., 104, 107 ff., 126;\n    _Eum._, 111 ff., 128, 130 n.;\n    E. _Androma._, 220 ff., 226;\n    _Electra_, 252 ff.;\n    _Iph. I._, 73, 247 ff.;\n    _Or._, 268 ff., 323;\n    _Telephus_, 296;\n    in POLYIDUS _Iph._, 31;\n    in S. _Electra_, 141 ff.\n\n  Orgon, M., in MARIVAUX, 28 n.\n\n  _Origin of Tragedy_, _see_ RIDGEWAY.\n\n  Orithyia, in S. _Orith._, 175.\n\n  _Orithyia_, _see_ SOPHOCLES.\n\n  Orpheus, in \u00c6. _Bassarides_, 117.\n\n  Ortheris, Private, 319.\n\n  Orthomenes, F. of Ion of Chios, 23.\n\n  Othello, 136.\n\n  Outis, in E. _Cyclops_, 289-90.\n\n  OVID, 257.\n\n\n  _Palamedes_, _see_ EURIPIDES.\n\n  PALEY, on E. _Orestes_, 276.\n\n  Pallas, in E. _H. Fur._, 233 n.\n\n  Panza, Sancho, 255.\n\n  _Paradise Lost_, _see_ MILTON.\n\n  Paris, in E. _Helena_, 259;\n    _Iph. A._, 285;\n    _Rhesus_, 291 n. ff.\n\n  _Parthenop\u00e6us_, _see_ ASTYDAMAS.\n\n  PATIN, _Eschyle_, 88 and n.\n\n  Patroclus, in \u00c6. _Myrmidons_, and _Nereids_, 118.\n\n  Patterne, Sir Willoughby, 287.\n\n  _Peace_, _see_ ARISTOPHANES.\n\n  Peel, Sir Robert, 325.\n\n  Pegasus, in E. _Bellerophon_, 297.\n\n  Peleus in E. _Andromache_, 220 ff., 225 ff.;\n    _Iph. A._, 286.\n\n  _Peliades_, _see_ EURIPIDES.\n\n  Pentheus, _see_ EURIPIDES _Bacch\u00e6_, 70, 73, 277 ff.\n\n  _Pentheus_, _see_ THESPIS.\n\n  Pericles, 13, 116, 177, 270, 313.\n\n  _Pericles_, _see_ PLUTARCH.\n\n  _Pers\u00e6_, _see_ \u00c6.\n\n  Persephone, in CARCINUS, 35;\n    in E. _Helena_, 260;\n    _Heracleid\u00e6_, 200;\n    in _Pirithous_, 29.\n\n  Perseus, in E. _Andromeda_, 298 ff.\n\n  Persian counsellors, 7.\n\n  _Peruigilium Veneris_, 333 n.\n\n  Ph\u00e6dra, 190, =205= ff., 218, 279, 317-8.\n\n  Ph\u00e6drus, 52.\n\n  Phaethon, in \u00c6. _D. of Sun_, 119.\n\n  \u2014 \u2014 E. _Phaethon_, 300 ff.\n\n  \u2014 sisters of, in E. _Hippol._, 208.\n\n  _Phaethon_, _see_ EURIPIDES.\n\n  PHERECRATES _Cheiron_, 72 and n. [Fragm. i.].\n\n  Pheres, in E. _Alcestis_, 186 ff.\n\n  Phidias, 14.\n\n  PHILEMON, 83.\n\n  Philip of Macedon, 82, 163.\n\n  PHILISCUS, 39, 40.\n\n  Philoctetes, 62, 73;\n    in \u00c6. _Phil._, 120;\n    in S. _Phil._, 161 ff., 177-8, 181;\n    in THEODECTES, 37.\n\n  _Philoctetes_, _see_ ACH\u00c6US, \u00c6., E., S., and THEODECTES.\n\n  Philomela, in S. _Tereus_, 174.\n\n  Phineus, in E. _Andromeda_, 299 ff.\n\n  _Phineus_, _see_ \u00c6.\n\n  Ph\u0153bus, in E. _Electra_, 257-8;\n    _Ion_, 242;\n    _Iph. I._, 250.\n\n  _Ph\u0153nician Women_, _see_ EURIPIDES, and PHRYNICHUS.\n\n  _Ph\u0153niss\u00e6_, _see_ EURIPIDES, and PHRYNICHUS.\n\n  _Phorbas_, _see_ THESPIS.\n\n  _Phrygians_, _see_ \u00c6.\n\n  PHRYNICHUS, comic poet, 14.\n\n  \u2014 general, 7 n.\n\n  \u2014 tragedian, 2, 6-10, 12, 15, 22, 78, 86, 90, 141, 315;\n    in _Frogs_, 126;\n    _Alcestis_, 6-7;\n    _Ant\u00e6us_, 6-7;\n    _Capture of Miletus_, 6-7, 38;\n    _Danaides_ or _Daughters of Danaus_, 6-7;\n    _Egyptians_, 6-7;\n    _Libyans_, 6-7;\n    _Ph\u0153nician Women_ or _Ph\u0153niss\u00e6_, 6-10, 38;\n    _Pleuroni\u00e6_ or _Pleuronian Women_, 6-7;\n    _Tantalus_, 6;\n    _Troilus_, 7.\n\n  PICKARD-CAMBRIDGE, 53 n.\n\n  PINDAR, 9, 24;\n    his tropes, 123;\n    _Olympian Odes_ [xiii. 18 _sq._], 3 and n.\n\n  Pirithous, in _Pirithous_, 29.\n\n  _Pirithous_, 18, 29;\n    and _see_ CRITIAS.\n\n  Pisistratus, 50.\n\n  PLATO, comic playwright, 78-9.\n\n  PLATO, philosopher, 21, 34, 36, 128, 182-3;\n    _Laws_ [659 A-C, 700 C, 701 A], 60 n.;\n    _Protagoras_ [315 E], 28 n.;\n    _Republic_ [391 E], 119 and n.;\n    _Symposium_, 27, 29, 50 n., 55 and n. [175 E, 194 B, 197 D, 198 C,\n        223 D];\n    [? _Minos_, 321 A], 5 n.\n\n  PLAUTUS, _P\u0153nulus_, 23.\n\n  _Pleuroni\u00e6_ or _Pleuronian Women_, _see_ PHRYNICHUS.\n\n  PLOTIUS, _De Metris_ [p. 2633], 6 n.\n\n  PLUTARCH, 323;\n    _Cimon_ [viii.], 12;\n    _De Gloria Atheniensium_ [349 E], 31;\n    _De Profectu in Virtute_ [79 B, E], 15, 23 n.;\n    _Liber Amatorius_ [756 B, C], 83 n.;\n    _Life of Aristides_ [III.], 91 and n.;\n    _Moralia_, [998 E, 110 D], 308 and n.;\n    _Nicias_ [524 D], 60 n.;\n    _Pericles_ [V], 24 and n.;\n    _Symposiaca_ [615 A, 645 E], 2 n., 26 and n.\n\n  Pluto, in _Pirithous_, 29.\n\n  _P\u0153nulus_, _see_ PLAUTUS.\n\n  _Poetic_, _see_ ARISTOTLE.\n\n  POLLUX [iv. 126, 128], 63 n., 64, 66 and n., 67 n., 70.\n\n  Pollux, in E. _Electra_, 253;\n    _Helena_, 258 n., 259 ff.\n\n  Polonius, 297.\n\n  Polybus, in S. _\u0152. Tyr._, 147 ff.\n\n  Polydeuces, _see_ Pollux; 252 n., etc.\n\n  Polydorus, ghost of, in E. _Hec._, 215 ff.\n\n  Polygnotus, 14.\n\n  POLYIDUS, 31-2;\n    _Iphigenia_, 31.\n\n  _Polyidus_, _see_ EURIPIDES.\n\n  Polymestor, in E. _Hec._, 215 ff.\n\n  Polynices, 235;\n    in \u00c6. _Septem_, 89 ff.;\n    in E. _Ph\u0153n._, 264 ff.;\n    in S. _Antig._, 137 ff.;\n    _\u0152. Col._, 168 ff.\n\n  Polyphemus, in E. _Cyclops_, 289 ff.\n\n  Polyphontes, in E. _Cresphontes_, 307 f.\n\n  POLYPHRADMON, 6, 90.\n\n  Polyphron, 38.\n\n  Polyxena, in E. _Hec._, 216 ff.;\n    _Troad._, 243 ff.\n\n  _Polyxena_, _see_ SOPHOCLES.\n\n  PORTER, W. H., _The Euripidean Rhesus in the light of recent\n        criticism_, 295 n.\n\n  Poseidon, 85;\n    in E. _Hippol._, 206;\n    _Ion_, 242;\n    _Troad._, 243 ff.;\n    _Melanippe_, 305 f.\n\n  _Possessed, The_, _see_ DOSTOEVSKY.\n\n  POWELL, J. U., ed. of E. _Ph\u0153niss\u00e6_, 256 and n., 265 n.\n\n  PRATINAS, 2, 6, 71 n., 90.\n\n  Praxiteles, 126.\n\n  Praxithea, in E. _Erechtheus_, 297.\n\n  Priam, in \u00c6. _Agam._, 99;\n    _Phrygians_, 118;\n    in E. _Hec._, 215;\n    in S. _Eurypylus_, 176.\n\n  _Priests, The_, _see_ THESPIS.\n\n  Private Ortheris, 319.\n\n  Procne, in S. _Tereus_, 174.\n\n  Prodicus, 28.\n\n  Professor, _see_ Jebb, Murray, Norwood, Ridgeway, Roberts, Tucker,\n        Wilamowitz-Moellendorff.\n\n  Prometheus, 62, 72, 76, 88;\n    in \u00c6., 121;\n    in _Prom. V._, 92 ff.\n\n  \u2014 trilogy, 114.\n\n  _Prometheus_ (sat.), _see_ \u00c6.\n\n  \u2014 _Bound_, _see_ \u00c6.\n\n  \u2014 _The Fire-Bringer_, _see_ \u00c6.\n\n  \u2014 _Unbound_, _see_ \u00c6. and SHELLEY.\n\n  Protagoras, 17.\n\n  _Protagoras_, _see_ PLATO.\n\n  Proteus, tomb of, in E. _Helena_, 259.\n\n  _Proteus_, _see_ \u00c6.\n\n  Ptolemy II., 39-40.\n\n  PUCHSTEIN, 81 n.\n\n  Pylades, 64;\n    in \u00c6. _Choeph._, 73 n., 108-9;\n    in E. _El._, 252 ff.;\n    _Iph. T._, 73, 247 ff.;\n    _Orest._, 268 ff.;\n    in S. _El._, 141 ff.\n\n  PYTHON of Catana or Byzantium, 39.\n\n\n  Queen Mab, in Sh., _Romeo and J._, 79.\n\n  _Quomodo Historia Conscribenda_, _see_ LUCIAN.\n\n\n  Raffaelle, 33, 102.\n\n  _Ransom of Hector_, _see_ \u00c6. and DIONYSIUS.\n\n  _Relapse, The_, _see_ VANBRUGH.\n\n  RENAN, 311.\n\n  _Republic_, _see_ PLATO.\n\n  Rhesus in _Rhesus_, 291 ff.\n\n  _Rhesus_, _see_ EURIPIDES.\n\n  _Rhetoric_, _see_ ARISTOTLE.\n\n  RHYS ROBERTS, PROFESSOR W., his tr. of _De Sublimitate_, 24 n.\n\n  _Richard III_, _see_ SHAKESPEARE.\n\n  _Riddle of the Bacch\u00e6_, _see_ NORWOOD.\n\n  RIDGEWAY, PROFESSOR SIR WM., _The Origin of Tragedy_, 2-3, 64 n.\n\n  ROBERTS, RHYS, _see_ RHYS R.\n\n  Robespierre, 30.\n\n  RUPERT BROOKE, 358.\n\n  RUSKIN, _Mornings in Florence_ [I. 14], 299 and n.\n\n  Russell, Lord John, 325.\n\n\n  S. PAUL [1 _Cor._ xv. 33], 309.\n\n  ST. JOHN HANKIN, 28.\n\n  SALTER, W. H., _Essays on Two Moderns_, 281 n.\n\n  Samuel, 172, 237.\n\n  Sancho Panza, 255.\n\n  SAPPHO, 8.\n\n  Saranoff, Sergius, 288.\n\n  SATYRUS, _Life of Euripides_, 18, 29 n.\n\n  SCALIGER, on _Rhesus_, 294.\n\n  _Scenes and Portraits_, _see_ MANNING.\n\n  Scephrus, 3 n.\n\n  SCHILLER, _Don Carlos_ [III. 10], 324 n.\n\n  SCHMIDT, DR. J. H. H., 334 n., 346 n.\n    (_Die Eurhythmie in den Chorges\u00e4ngen der Griechen_, [p. 89, etc.]),\n        353 n.\n    (_Introduction_, etc.), 358 n., 345, 362 n., 354.\n\n  _Scholar-Gipsy_, _see_ ARNOLD.\n\n  SEDLEY, 360.\n\n  Semele, in E. _Bacch\u00e6_, 277 ff.;\n    _Hippol._, 212.\n\n  SENECA, 44, 272.\n\n  _Septem_, _see_ \u00c6.\n\n  Sergius Saranoff, 288.\n\n  _Seven against Thebes_, _see_ \u00c6.\n\n  SHAKESPEARE, 9, 14, 29 n., 79, 104, 183, 219, 282, 325;\n    and SHAW, 121;\n    _As You_, 63;\n    _Hamlet_, 152 n., 183;\n    _Henry V_ [iv. 8], 88 and n.;\n    _II Henry VI_ [iii. 1], 66;\n    _John_, 234;\n    _Jul. C._, 134;\n    _Lear_, 16, 171-2, 183 [iij. 4];\n    _Macbeth_, 9, 16, 42, 70, 317;\n    _M. for M._, 41;\n    _Mcht. V._, 72-4 n.;\n    _M. N. Dr._ [ii. 1], 355;\n    _Much Ado_, 199;\n    _Rd. III_, 282;\n    _R. and J._, 79, 124;\n    _Sonnets_, 174;\n    _Tp._, [v. 1], 354;\n    _Titus A._ [ii. 1. 5-7], 121 and n.\n\n  \u2014 Justice Shallow, 199.\n\n  SHAW, BERNARD, 39 n.;\n    _Doctor\u2019s Dilemma_, 236 n., 320-1 (and E.).\n\n  \u2014 Sergius Saranoff in, 288;\n    and SH., 121.\n\n  SHELLEY, _Prom. Unbd._, 95.\n\n  Silenus, 69;\n    in E. _Cyclops_, 289 ff.;\n    in S. _Ichneut\u00e6_, 175.\n\n  SIMONIDES, 9-10.\n\n  SIR H. RIDER HAGGARD, 248.\n\n  Sir Willoughby Patterne, in MEREDITH\u2019s _Egoist_, 287.\n\n  Sisyphus, in AGATHON, 27.\n\n  _Sisyphus_, of CRITIAS, 29-30;\n    and _see_ EURIPIDES.\n\n  Socrates, 17, 28 and n., 29 n., 50 n., 65, 67, 163 n., 318.\n\n  _Sonnets_, _see_ SHAKESPEARE.\n\n  Sophillus, f. of SOPHOCLES.\n\n  SOPHOCLES, v, vi, 4, 10, 12 ff., 17-20, 22-4, 26, 31, 37, 59, 60, 74,\n        77, 91-2, 95, 122, =132= ff., 186, 192, 195-6, 208-9, 223-4,\n        226 n., 275, 276 n., 281, 293, 295-6, 312, 333.\n\n  \u2014 as actor and citharist, or harpist, 71, 173-4.\n\n  \u2014 Attic spirit of, 182;\n    criticism of other dramatists, 160 n.\n\n  \u2014 dramatic irony in, 179-80.\n\n  \u2014 influenced by E., in _Trach._, 159-60.\n\n  \u2014 influence on \u00c6., 126;\n    introduced cr\u0113pis, 68;\n    invented scene-painting, 52;\n    Jebb\u2019s ed. of, v;\n    metre of, 180, 331 n., 334.\n\n  \u2014 mind and art of, 177 ff.;\n    plots, 179;\n    religion, 177;\n    technical innovations, 15.\n\n  \u2014 _Ajax_, 42 n., 55 n., 63, 71, 119, =132-6=, 138, 155, 158-9,\n        184 [ll. 520-1, 559, 646, 650-3, 815 _sqq._].\n\n  \u2014 _Amphiaraus_ (satyric play), 174.\n\n  \u2014 _Antigone_, 8 n., 15, 132, =136-41=, 184, 266, 349 [ll. 95,\n        175-90, 450-70, 582 _sqq._, 782, 904-12, 1195, 1329-30].\n\n  \u2014 _Detectives_ (satyric), 175-6.\n\n  \u2014 _Dinner-Party_ (satyric), 174.\n\n  \u2014 _Electra_, 63, =141-5=, 152, 160 n., 171 n., 253 [ll. 147-9,\n        303-16, 328 _sqq._, 415, 582 _sqq._, 616-21, 957, 974, 1080,\n        1165 _sq._, 1288 _sqq._, 1331-3, 1424-5, 1508 _sqq._].\n\n  \u2014 _Eurypylus_, 176.\n\n  \u2014 _Ichneut\u00e6_, 2, =175-6=.\n\n  \u2014 _Laocoon_, 174.\n\n  \u2014 _Lovers of Achilles_, 174.\n\n  \u2014 _Mustering of the Greeks_ (satyric), 174.\n\n  \u2014 _Nausicaa_, 12, 174.\n\n  \u2014 _\u0152dipus_, 24.\n\n  \u2014 _\u0152dipus at Colonus_, _\u0152dipus Coloneus_, 13, 14 and n., 16, 71\n        n., 160 n., =167-73=, 174, 185, 267 [ll. 62 _sq._, 106, 258-91,\n        443, 472, 506, 569, 607 _sqq._, 620, 670-80, 854-5, 960-1013,\n        964-5, 1047 _sq._, 1055, 1082, 1116, 1127, 1148-9, 1152,\n        1225-8, 1422-5, 1503 _sq._, 1563 _sq._, 1582 _sqq._, 1615\n        _sqq._, 1627 _sq._, 1682, 1697].\n\n  \u2014 _\u0152dipus Rex, the King_, or _Tyrannus_, 13 n., 16, 35, 37, 79,\n        96, =145-54=, 157, 169, 173, 179, 183, 266, 268 n., 331 n.\n    (Aristotle\u2019s remarks on _\u0152. Tyr._, 46-8, 148) [ll. 1, 29,\n        124-5, 130-1, 151, 436, 483 _sq._, 587-8, 738, 758-64, 774\n        _sqq._, 942, 959, 1026, 1028, 1038, 1117-8, 1141, 1313,\n        1524-5].\n\n  \u2014 _Orithyia_, 175.\n\n  \u2014 _Philoctetes_, 16, 46, 76, 120, 145, =161-7=, 179;\n    Deus ex. m. in, 315;\n    metre of, 181, 334 n., 337 [ll. 187-90, 268, 282-4, 287-92, 385\n        _sqq._, 456 _sqq._, 670, 926 _sqq._, 981 _sq._, 1007-15, 1035\n        _sqq._, 1047-51, 1095 _sqq._, 1222 _sqq._, 1299 _sqq._, 1402,\n        1455].\n\n  \u2014 _Polyxena_, 174.\n\n  \u2014 _Tereus_, 174.\n\n  \u2014 _Thamyras_, 71.\n\n  \u2014 _Trachini\u00e6_, =154-60=, 164, 195 [ll. 9-14, 248-86, 268, 416,\n        427, 547-9, 575-7, 719 _sq._, 900-22, 927 _sq._, 1140].\n\n  \u2014 _Triptolemus_, 173.\n\n  \u2014 _Women Washing_, 174.\n\n  \u2014 _Fragmenta Adespota_ [344, 345], 173-5.\n\n  SOSIPHANES, 40-41.\n\n  SOSITHEUS, 39-40;\n    _Daphnis_ (satyric), 40;\n    _Lityerses_ (satyric), 40.\n\n  _Spanish Tragedy_, _see_ KYD.\n\n  _Sphinx_, _see_ \u00c6.\n\n  STESICHORUS, 262 n.\n\n  STEVENSON, R. L., 320.\n\n  Stheneb\u0153a, in E., 318.\n\n  Stob\u00e6us, 37 [102-3], 39 n., 323.\n\n  Stockman, Dr., in IBSEN, 317.\n\n  STRABO [I. 33], 301 and n.\n\n  _Studies in Greek Tragedy_, _see_ MATTHAEI.\n\n  \u2014 \u2014 _the Greek Poets_, _see_ SYMONDS.\n\n  SUIDAS, 5, 15 n., 21 n., 22, 23, 25 n.\n\n  _Suppliant Women_, or _Supplices_, _see_ \u00c6. and E.\n\n  SWIFT, 248.\n\n  SWINBURNE, 174;\n    _Erechtheus_, 297.\n\n  SYMONDS, J. A., _Studies in the Greek Poets_ [II. 26], 33 n.\n\n  _Symposiaca_, _see_ PLUTARCH.\n\n  _Symposium_, _see_ PLATO.\n\n\n  _Talking Oak_, _see_ TENNYSON.\n\n  Talthybius, in E. _Hec._, 216;\n    _Troad._, 243 ff.\n\n  Tannh\u00e4user, 283.\n\n  _Tantalus_, _see_ PHRYNICHUS.\n\n  TCHEKOV, _Cherry Orchard_, 319.\n\n  _Tauric Iphigenia_, _see_ EURIPIDES, 73.\n\n  Tecmessa, in S. _Ajax_, 132 ff., 159.\n\n  Telephus, in E. _Tel._, 295-6.\n\n  _Telephus_, _see_ EURIPIDES, and MOSCHION.\n\n  _Tempest_, _see_ SHAKESPEARE.\n\n  Teniers, 124.\n\n  TENNYSON, _Talking Oak_, 355;\n    _Locksley Hall_, 335, 339.\n\n  TERENCE, 28, 36.\n\n  Tereus, in S. _Ter._, 174.\n\n  _Tereus_, _see_ SOPHOCLES.\n\n  _Tess of the D\u2019Urbervilles_, _see_ THOMAS HARDY.\n\n  Teucer, in E. _Helena_, 258 n., 259 ff.;\n    in S. _Ajax_, 132 ff., 158.\n\n  _Thamyras_, _see_ SOPHOCLES.\n\n  Thanatos, in E. _Alcestis_, 187 ff.\n\n  Themistocles, 7, 88-9, 128 n.\n\n  _Themistocles_, _see_ MOSCHION.\n\n  Theoclymenus, in E. _Helena_, 258 ff., 314 n.\n\n  THEOCRITUS, 40.\n\n  THEODECTES of Phaselis, 36-8;\n    _Lynceus_, 37;\n    _Mausolus_, 38.\n\n  Theodorus the actor, 35.\n\n  Theonoe, in E. _Helena_, 258 n., 259 ff.\n\n  Theseus, in E. _Herc. Fur._, 228 ff.;\n    _Hippol._, 205 ff.;\n    _Suppl._, 234 ff.;\n    in S. _\u0152. Col._, 168 ff., 178, 185;\n    in _Pirithous_, 29.\n\n  _Thesmophoriazus\u00e6_, _see_ ARISTOPHANES.\n\n  THESPIS, 2, 4-5 (his waggon, 50), 56, 58, 68;\n    his supposed fragments, 5;\n    _Pentheus_, _Phorbas_, _Priests_, _Trials of Pelias_, _Youths_, 5.\n\n  _The Theory of Beauty_, _see_ CARRITT.\n\n  Thetis, 65;\n    in \u00c6. _Nereids_, 118;\n    _W. of Souls_, 120;\n    in E. _Andromache_, 220 ff.;\n    _Iph. A._, 286.\n\n  Thoas, in E. _Hypsip._, 304;\n    _Iph. T._, 247 ff.\n\n  THOMAS HARDY and E., 325;\n    _Tess of the D\u2019U._, 325-6.\n\n  Thorvald Helmer, in IBSEN\u2019S _A Doll\u2019s House_, 189.\n\n  _Thracian Women_, _see_ \u00c6.\n\n  THUCYDIDES, 14, 182-3, 325 n. [III. 82-3].\n\n  Thyestes, 257.\n\n  _Thyestes_, _see_ CARCINUS, and CH\u00c6REMON.\n\n  TIM\u00c6US, 57.\n\n  Timotheus, 18, 72.\n\n  Tiresias, in E. _Bacch\u00e6_, 277 ff.;\n    _Ph\u0153n._, 264 ff.;\n    in S. _Antig._, 137 ff.;\n    _\u0152. Tyr._, 146 ff.\n\n  Titans, 93 ff. (Oceanus, 94; Prometheus, 93 ff.).\n\n  _Titus Andronicus_, _see_ SHAKESPEARE.\n\n  _Trachini\u00e6_, _see_ SOPHOCLES.\n\n  _Tragic Drama_, etc., _see_ HAIGH.\n\n  _Trials of Pelias_, _see_ THESPIS.\n\n  Triptolemus, in CH\u0152RILUS\u2019 _Alope_, 6;\n    in S. _Tript._, 173.\n\n  _Triptolemus_, _see_ SOPHOCLES.\n\n  _Troades_, _see_ EURIPIDES.\n\n  _Troilus_, _see_ PHRYNICHUS.\n\n  _Trojan Women_, _see_ EURIPIDES.\n\n  Tryg\u00e6us in A. _Peace_, 297.\n\n  TUCKER, PROFESSOR, tr. of \u00c6. _Suppl._, 86 and n.\n\n  Tyndareus, in E. _Or._, 268 ff.\n\n  Typhos, 232.\n\n\n  VALCKENAER, on _Rhesus_, 294 n.\n\n  VANBRUGH, _Relapse_ [V. iv. 135], 105 and n.\n\n  _Vanity Fair_, 319.\n\n  _Varia Historia_, _see_ \u00c6LIAN.\n\n  _Veiled Hippolytus_, _see_ EURIPIDES.\n\n  Venus of Melos, 182.\n\n  VERGIL, 20, 174;\n    _\u00c6neid_, 174 n. [I. 203].\n\n  VERRALL, DR. A. W., on \u00c6. _Agam._, 100 and n., ff., 122 and n., 126;\n    _Choeph._, 143 and n., 258 n.;\n    _Eum._, 115 n., 116 n., 130 n.;\n    _Septem_, 91 and n.;\n    on E. _Alc._, 188 n., 190 ff.;\n    _Androma._, 222-3;\n    _Bac._, 281 n.;\n    _Hel._, 263;\n    _H. Fur._, 230 ff.;\n    _Ion_, 239-40;\n    _Med._, 195-7;\n    _Or._, 273 n.;\n    his Dramatic Criticism, p. v;\n    _Bacch\u00e6 of E. and other Essays_, 8 n.;\n    _E. in a Hymn_, 250 n.;\n    _E.\u2019s Apology_, 262;\n    _E. the Rationalist_, 130 n., 190 and n., 250 n., 265 n.;\n    _Four Plays of E._, 196 n., 222-3, 228 and n., 262 n.\n\n  _Virgin Martyr_, _see_ DEKKER and MASSINGER.\n\n  VITRUVIUS, 53 ff., 58-9, 63 n. [V. vi., vii. 3-4].\n\n  VOLTAIRE, 248, 257.\n\n\n  WALPOLE, HORACE, 311.\n\n  _Wasps_, _see_ ARISTOPHANES.\n\n  _Weighing of Souls_, _see_ \u00c6.\n\n  WEIL, H., _Note sur le Prom\u00e9th\u00e9e d\u2019Eschyle_, 93 n.\n\n  WELCKER, 175 n.\n\n  Werle, Gregers, 317.\n\n  WHITE, PROFESSOR J. W., 345 n.\n\n  WIESELER, 54 n.\n\n  WILAMOWITZ-MOELLENDORFF, PROFESSOR U. von, p. v, 29 n., 42 n., 247\n        n., 282, 294 n.;\n    _Einleitung in die griechische Trag\u00f6die_, 42 n.\n\n  _Witch_, _see_ MIDDLETON.\n\n  _Women of Crete_, _see_ EURIP.;\n    _of Etna_, _see_ \u00c6.;\n    _of the Fawn-skin_, _see_ \u00c6.\n    _of Trachis_, _see_ _Trachini\u00e6_ and SOPHOCLES;\n    _Women Washing_, _see_ SOPHOCLES.\n\n  WORDSWORTH, 127, 172, 308.\n\n\n  XENOCLES, 243.\n\n  XENOPHON, _Hellenica_ [VI. iv. 33-4], 38 n.\n\n  Xerxes, 76, 228 ff.;\n    in \u00c6. _Pers\u00e6_, 87-9, 356.\n\n  Xuthus, in E. _Ion_, 236 ff.\n\n\n  _Youths_, _see_ \u00c6., and THESPIS.\n\n\n  Zenocrate, in _Tamburlaine_, 328.\n\n  Zethus, in E. _Antiope_, 298.\n\n  Zeus, 176, 277, 284.\n\n  \u2014 Cretan, 310.\n\n  \u2014 in \u00c6., 84 ff., 127 ff., 213;\n    in _Eum._, 112 ff.;\n    in _W. Souls_, 120;\n    in E. _Andromeda_, 300;\n    _Antiope_, 298;\n    _Bellero._, 297;\n    _Helena_, 260, 322;\n    _Heracleid\u00e6_, 201;\n    _H. Fur._, 229 ff.;\n    _Hippol._, 208, 212;\n    _Ion_, 242;\n    _Melan._, 306;\n    _Troad._, 246.\n\n  \u2014 temple of, at Marathon, in E. _Heracleid\u00e6_, 200.\n\n\n\n\nIV. METRE\n\n\n  Accelerated Spondee, 343 n.\n\n  Accentual Dactyl, 356.\n\n  \u2014 Iambi, 328.\n\n  Anaclasis, 356.\n\n  Anacrusis, 334 n., 342, etc.\n\n  Anap\u00e6sis used by chorus, 337.\n\n  \u2014 in recitative, 74.\n\n  Anap\u00e6st, \u23d1\u23d1\u2013, 290 n., 331, 338, etc.\n\n  Anap\u00e6stic metre, 337-8.\n\n  \u2014 system, 337.\n\n  Antistrophe, 78, 344 ff.\n\n  Antithetic-mesodic periods, 361-2.\n\n  Antithetic periods, 360.\n\n  Asclepiad, greater, 8.\n\n\n  Bacchiac, \u2013\u202f\u2013\u23d1, 355.\n\n  Blank verse, 328.\n\n\n  C\u00e6sura, 332-3, 336.\n\n  Catalectic verse, 337, 339;\n    catalectic foot, 334.\n\n  \u2014 \u2014 in anap\u00e6stic systems, 338.\n\n  Catalexis, 335, 337, 353-4, 359.\n\n  Choree, 352-3.\n\n  Choriambics, \u2013\u23d1\u23d1\u2013, 357.\n\n  Cola, three types of, 351.\n\n  Colon, 343 ff.\n\n  \u2014 definition of, 347.\n\n  Counter-turn, 344.\n\n  Cretic, \u2013\u23d1\u2013, 354.\n\n  \u2014 Final, 290 n., 333-4.\n\n  \u2014 in English, 355.\n\n  Cyclic Dactyls, 341.\n\n\n  Dactyl, \u2013\u23d1\u23d1, 331, etc., 340.\n\n  Dactylic dipody, 356.\n\n  \u2014 hexameter, 339.\n\n  Dactyls, cyclic, 341.\n\n  Definition of a colon, 347.\n\n  \u2014 \u2014 ictus, 347-8.\n\n  \u2014 \u2014 metre, 327.\n\n  \u2014 \u2014 poetry, 327.\n\n  \u2014 \u2014 rhythm, 327.\n\n  Di\u00e6resis, 336-7.\n\n  Dialogue-metre, 74, 334 ff., 353.\n\n  Dipody, 338, 351-2.\n\n  Dochmiacs, 355, 358.\n\n  Dochmius, 358.\n\n\n  Elision, 329, etc., 344 n.\n\n  Emotional significance of metre, 353 ff.\n\n  Episodic trochaics, 338, 353.\n\n  Epode, 78, 345.\n\n  Equal cola, 351.\n\n\n  Final Cretic, 290 n., 333-4.\n\n  Foot-ictus, 342.\n\n\n  Greater asclepiad, 8.\n\n\n  Hexameter, Dactylic, 339.\n\n  Hexapody, 351-2.\n\n  Hiatus, 329-30.\n\n  Homeric metre, 339.\n\n\n  Iambic metre, 4, 327, 330 ff.\n\n  \u2014 senarius, 340.\n\n  Iambus, \u23d1\u2013, 74, 327 ff., 330, etc.\n\n  Ictus, 342, 347.\n\n  \u2014 definition of, 347.\n\n  Insetting, 342.\n\n  Ionic, \u2013\u202f\u2013\u23d1\u23d1, 356.\n\n  Ionicus a maiore, 356.\n\n  \u2014 \u2014 minore, \u23d1\u23d1\u2013\u202f\u2013, 356.\n\n  Irrational syllables, 343 n., 347, 351, 362.\n\n\n  Licences, 331, 335.\n\n  Logaoedic systems, 341.\n\n  Long syllables, 328.\n\n  Lyrics, v, vi, 2, 338 ff.\n\n\n  Mesode, 344, 361.\n\n  Mesodic periods, 361-2.\n\n  Metre, vi, 327 ff.\n\n  \u2014 definition of, 327.\n\n  \u2014 in comedy, 334.\n\n  \u2014 of S. _Philoctetes_, 181;\n    of E. _Orestes_, 315, 334.\n\n  Molossus, \u2013\u202f\u2013\u202f\u2013, 354.\n\n  Music, Greek, 339, etc.\n\n\n  Octonarius, 335.\n\n  \u2014 trochaic, 339.\n\n\n  Palinodic-antithetic periods, 361.\n\n  \u2014 \u2014 -mesodic periods, 361-2.\n\n  Palinodic-mesodic periods, 361-2.\n\n  \u2014 periods, 360.\n\n  Par\u0153miacs, 338 and n.\n\n  Pentapody, 351.\n\n  Period, 343, 359 ff.\n\n  Pitch-accent, 327 n.\n\n  Poetry, definition of, 327.\n\n  Postlude, 344, 362.\n\n  Prelude, 342, 344, 362.\n\n  Prodelision, 329.\n\n\n  Quantity, 327 ff.\n\n  Quasi-anap\u00e6sts, 354.\n\n  Quasi-trochees, 341.\n\n  Quinquepartite cola, 351.\n\n\n  Recitative, 337.\n\n  Resolved feet, 330, 334, 336, 342 n., 353, 355, 358.\n\n  Rhythm, p. vi, 327 ff.\n\n  \u2014 definition of, 327.\n\n  \u2014 in _Philoctetes_, 181.\n\n  Rules of Quantity, 328-9.\n\n\n  Scansion, 327 ff.;\n    of lyrics, v, vi, 338 ff.\n\n  Scheme of iambic verse, 334.\n\n  \u2014 \u2014 trochaic tetrameters, 337.\n\n  Senarius, iambic, 340.\n\n  Sentence, 343, etc.\n\n  Spondaic words lacking in English, 354.\n\n  Spondee, \u2013\u202f\u2013, 181, 330, etc., 341, 353.\n\n  Stichic period, 359-60.\n\n  \u2014 -mesodic period, 361.\n\n  Stress-accent, 327, 342, 347.\n\n  \u201cStriking-up,\u201d 342 n.\n\n  Strophe, 78, 344 ff.\n\n  Synapheia, 330.\n\n  Syncopated rhythm, 341.\n\n  Synizesis, 332.\n\n\n  Tetrameter, Trochaic, 334 ff.\n\n  Tetrapody, 337, 351-2.\n\n  Tribrach, \u23d1\u23d1\u23d1, 181, 331, 335.\n\n  Tripody, 351-2.\n\n  Trochaic tetrameter, 4, 334 ff.\n\n  \u2014 octonarius, 339.\n\n  Trochee, \u2013\u23d1, 334 ff., 352.\n\n  Turn, 344.\n\n  Types of cola, 351.\n\n  \u2014 \u2014 period, 359 ff.\n\n\n  Unequal cola, 351.\n\n\n  Verse in lyrics, 346.\n\n  Virgilian metre, 339.\n\n  Voice-stress, 328.\n\n\n  Word-ictus, 348.\n\n\n\n\nLINES QUOTED IN CHAPTER VI\n\n\n  \u00c6SCHYLUS:\n    _Agam._, 2, 160 _sqq._, 975 _sqq._, 988 _sqq._, 1530 _sqq._\n    _Eumen._, 788 _sq._\n    _Pers\u00e6_, 81 _sq._, 126 _sq._\n    _Prom. V._, 12, 15, 115, 415, 420.\n    _Suppl._, 418 _sqq._, 582 _sqq._, 656.\n\n  EURIPIDES:\n    _Alcestis_, 29, 32, 34, 37, 179.\n    _Androma._, 241, 260, 804.\n    _Bacch\u00e6_, 12, 64 _sqq._, 703.\n    _Cyclops_, 361 _sqq._\n    _Hecuba_, 629 _sqq._;\n    _Herc. Fur._, 76, 857.\n    _Ion_, 125-7, 313, 548;\n    _I. Aul._, 320, 882;\n    _I. T._, 123-5, 1232.\n    _Medea_, 1, 635;\n    _Orest._, 310, 367, 502, 740, 756, 797, 872, 892, 894.\n    _Ph\u0153n._, 114 _sqq._, 590 _sq._, 609, 612;\n    _Troades_, 710, 738.\n\n  SOPHOCLES:\n    _Ajax_, 646, 652;\n    _Antigone_, 95, 582 _sqq._, 1329 _sq._\n    _Electra_, 147-9;\n    _\u0152. Col._, 1047-8, 1055, 1082.\n    _\u0152. Tyr._, 1, 29, 151, 483-4, 738, 1313.\n    _Philoct._, 895 _sqq._, 1095 _sqq._, 1222 _sqq._, 1402.\n\n\n\n\nV. GENERAL\n\n\n  Actor, 1.\n\n  \u2014 Hegelochus, 74.\n\n  \u2014 Sophocles, 13.\n\n  \u2014 Theodorus, 35.\n\n  Actors, 4, 15, 72-5.\n\n  Actors\u2019 Guild, 75.\n\n  \u2014 in Roman times, 59.\n\n  \u2014 privileges of, 75.\n\n  \u2014 travelling companies of, 49.\n\n  \u2014 under \u00c6., 11-12.\n\n  Admission to theatre, 81.\n\n  Agnosticism of E., 318.\n\n  Alexandrian Pleiad, 2, 39-41.\n\n  Allusions to landscape, 63.\n\n  \u2014 \u2014 contemporary events, 7-9.\n\n  Altar in orchestra, 50.\n\n  \u2014 of Dionysus, 51.\n\n  Ambassadors\u2019 seats, 81.\n\n  Amphictyonic council, 75.\n\n  Anapiesma, 64.\n\n  Apparition of gods, etc., 65.\n\n  \u2014 of Dioscuri in E. _El._, 65;\n    of Iris and Frenzy in _H. Fur._, 233;\n    of Medea, 65;\n    of Pallas in _H. Fur._, 233 n.\n\n  Architecton, 82.\n\n  Architectural remains, evidence of, in stage controversy, 57-8.\n\n  Archon and dramatic judges, 12.\n\n  \u2014 Basileus, 60.\n\n  \u2014 Eponymus, 60.\n\n  Archonship of Menon, 87.\n\n  Archons\u2019 seats, 81.\n\n  Areopagite Court in _Eumenides_, 70, 112 ff., 317.\n\n  Argives in \u00c6. _Agam._, 79;\n    _Suppl._, 84;\n    in E. _El._, 252 ff.;\n    _Or._, 269 ff.\n\n  \u2014 in E. _Ph\u0153n._, 264 ff.;\n    in S. _Antig._, 137 ff.\n\n  Argo the ship, in E. _Hypsip._, 305.\n\n  Argument of E. _Hippol._, 215 n.;\n    _Medea_, 22 n.;\n    of \u00c6. _Pers\u00e6_, 8 n.\n\n  \u2014 against a stage, 56 ff.;\n    for a stage, 53 ff.\n\n  \u2014 of plays, whence taken, 62.\n\n  Arrangement of \u00c6. _Agam._, 99 n.;\n    _Choeph._, 106 n.;\n    _Eum._, 111 n.;\n    _Pers._, 86 n.;\n    _P. V._, 92;\n    _Septem_, 89 n.;\n    _Suppl._, 84 n.\n\n  \u2014 of E., _Alc._, 186 n.;\n    _Bac._, 277 n.;\n    _Cycl._, 289 n.;\n    _El._, 252 n.;\n    _Hel._, 258 n.;\n    _Heracleid\u00e6_, 200 n.;\n    _H. Fur._, 228 n.;\n    _Hippol._, 205 n.;\n    _Ion_, 236 n.;\n    _I. A._, 285 n.;\n    _I. T._, 247 n.;\n    _Or._, 268 n.;\n    _Ph\u0153n._, 264 n.;\n    _Rhes._, 291 n.;\n    _Suppl._, 234 n.;\n    _Troad._, 243 n.\n\n  \u2014 of S. _Aj._, 132 n.;\n    _Ant._, 136 n.;\n    _El._, 141 n.;\n    _\u0152. C._, 167 n.;\n    _\u0152. T._, 145 n.;\n    _Philoct._, 161 n.;\n    _Trach._, 154 n.\n\n  Artists of Dionysus, 75.\n\n  ? Ascent from orchestra to stage, 55.\n\n  Assyrian sculpture, 126.\n\n  At\u00e9, 129, 198.\n\n  Athenian art, 182-3.\n\n  \u2014 cynicism, 325.\n\n  \u2014 ecclesia, 270.\n\n  \u2014 empire, 14, 128 n., 325.\n\n  Atridean house, 127, 129.\n\n  Attic festivals, 49.\n\n  \u2014 hero Triptolemus, 6.\n\n  \u2014 spirit of S., 182.\n\n  \u2014 townships, 49.\n\n  Audience, 80.\n\n  Audiences, size of, 50.\n\n  Auditorium, 51.\n\n  Authorship of _Rhesus_, 293-5.\n\n\n  Bacchante, 237;\n    Bacchantes in \u00c6. _Bassarids_, 117.\n\n  Basileus, Archon, 60.\n\n  Beacon-speech in \u00c6. _Agam._, 124.\n\n  Beauty and Truth in E., 326.\n\n  _Belletrist_, Ion a, 24.\n\n  Benefactors\u2019 seats, 81.\n\n  Bent staff of actors, 16.\n\n  Bible and S. _\u0152. Col._, 172 and n.\n\n  Board-game in \u00c6. _Suppl._, 123;\n    in E. _Medea_, 208.\n\n  Board of generals, 12.\n\n  B\u0153otians, 234 n.\n\n  \u201cBowl of the Sun,\u201d in \u00c6. and Mimnermus, 119.\n\n  Bronteion, 64.\n\n  Buildings of Greek theatre, 50 ff.\n\n  Burial-passages in Moschion, 38.\n\n  Burlesque, E. _Helena_ a, 262 ff.\n\n  Buskin, 69.\n\n  Butler in E. _Alc._, 73.\n\n  Byzantine appreciation and selection of E., 21, 215-6, 265, 268.\n\n\n  Catharsis, 43.\n\n  Cenotaph of E., in Attica, 18.\n\n  Centaurs:\n    Chiron, 98;\n    Nessus, 154.\n\n  Ceraunoscopeion, 64.\n\n  Cercis, -ides, 80-1.\n\n  Change of dress, 73.\n\n  \u2014 \u2014 scene in \u00c6. _Eum._, and S. _Aj._, 63.\n\n  Character in Tragedy, according to Aristotle, 44.\n\n  Charges in theatre, 81-2.\n\n  Charioteer in _Rhesus_, 291-2.\n\n  Chariots on stage, 64.\n\n  Charon\u2019s steps, 64.\n\n  Chian wine, 24.\n\n  Choregus, 7, 60, 68, 82.\n\n  Choreut\u00e6 or choristers, 16, 75 ff.\n\n  Chorus, 4, 75-80.\n\n  \u2014 and chorus-leader, 1.\n\n  Chorus-dancing, 78-80.\n\n  \u2014 -entrances, 56.\n\n  \u2014 in satyric drama, 80.\n\n  \u2014 \u2014 \u00c6., E., and S., 76-7.\n\n  \u2014 \u2014 E., _Alc._, 79;\n    _Or._, 79;\n    S. _\u0152. Tyr._, 79;\n    _Philoct._, 166.\n\n  \u2014 of Argive elders in \u00c6. _Ag._, 79, 99.\n\n  \u2014 \u2014 \u2014 women in E. _El._, 252 ff.\n\n  \u2014 \u2014 \u2014 \u2014 \u2014 \u2014 _Or._, 79, 269.\n\n  \u2014 \u2014 Athenians in S. _\u0152. Col._, 169.\n\n  \u2014 \u2014 attendants of Creusa in E. _Ion_, 236 ff.\n\n  \u2014 \u2014 \u2014 women in E. _Phaethon_, 302.\n\n  \u2014 \u2014 Colchian women in E. _Iph. A._, 285 ff.\n\n  \u2014 \u2014 captive Greek maidens in E. _Helena_, 259.\n\n  \u2014 \u2014 \u2014 \u2014 \u2014 \u2014 \u2014 _Iph. T._, 247 ff.\n\n  \u2014 \u2014 Corinthian women in E. _Medea_, 192 ff.\n\n  \u2014 \u2014 Danaids in \u00c6. _Suppl._, 76, 84.\n\n  \u2014 \u2014 Furies in \u00c6. _Eumen._, 76-7, 111.\n\n  \u2014 \u2014 Greek sailors in S. _Philoct._, 166.\n\n  \u2014 \u2014 Lemnians in \u00c6. and E. _Philoct._, 166, 296.\n\n  \u2014 \u2014 Libation-bearers in \u00c6. _Choeph._, 79, 106, 126.\n\n  \u2014 \u2014 Mothers of the Seven, in E. _Suppl._, 234 ff.\n\n  \u2014 \u2014 Nemean women in E. _Hypsip._, 304.\n\n  \u2014 \u2014 Old Athenians, in E. _Erech._, 297;\n     _Heracleid._, 200.\n\n  \u2014 \u2014 \u2014 Pher\u00e6ans in E. _Alc._, 79, 186.\n\n  \u2014 \u2014 Ph\u0153nician maidens in E. _Ph\u0153n._, 264 ff.\n\n  \u2014 \u2014 \u2014 \u2014 \u2014 Phrynichus\u2019 _Ph\u0153n._, 9.\n\n  \u2014 \u2014 Phrygian Bacchantes in E. _Bac._, 277 ff.\n\n  \u2014 \u2014 Phrygians in \u00c6. _Hector\u2019s Ransom_, 119.\n\n  \u2014 \u2014 Phthian women in E. _Andromache_, 220.\n\n  \u2014 \u2014 Salaminian sailors in S. _Ajax_, 132.\n\n  \u2014 \u2014 Satyrs in S. _Ichn._, 175, and E. _Cycl._, 289 ff.\n\n  \u2014 \u2014 Sea-Nymphs in \u00c6. _Prom. V._, 94.\n\n  \u2014 \u2014 Sentinels in _Rhesus_, 291 ff.\n\n  \u2014 \u2014 Thebans in E. _H. Fur._, 228 ff.\n\n  \u2014 \u2014 \u2014 \u2014 S. _Antig._, 137.\n\n  \u2014 \u2014 \u2014 \u2014 \u2014 _\u0152. Tyr._, 148.\n\n  \u2014 \u2014 Tr\u0153zenian women in E. _Hippol._, 205 ff.\n\n  \u2014 \u2014 Trojan women in E. _Troades_, 243 ff.\n\n  \u2014 place of, in theatre, 50.\n\n  \u2014 under \u00c6., 11-12.\n\n  Chorus-leader, 60.\n\n  \u2014 -trainer, 70.\n\n  Chromatic style of Agathon, 26.\n\n  Chthonian religion in \u00c6., 130.\n\n  City Dionysia, 13, 49, 60.\n\n  Classicism and Romance, 320.\n\n  Comedy, 23.\n\n  \u2014 origin of, 1 n.\n\n  Commos, 74.\n\n  \u2014 Aristotle\u2019s definition of, 47.\n\n  \u2014 in \u00c6. _Choeph._, 109 and n.\n\n  Complication, Ar.\u2019s definition of, 47.\n\n  Conception of God in Critias, 30.\n\n  Confederacy, Delian, 13.\n\n  Conscience in \u00c6., 130.\n\n  Contents, p. vii.\n\n  Coon-songs, 80.\n\n  Corinthians, 16, 192 ff.\n\n  Coryph\u00e6us, 78-9.\n\n  \u2014 in _\u0152. Tyr._, 146.\n\n  Cothurnus, 69.\n\n  Cr\u0113pis, 68.\n\n  Criticism, Verrall\u2019s, etc., p. v.\n\n  Crown of ivy, 61.\n\n  Curetes, in E. _Cretans_, 310.\n\n  Curtain, none in classical age, 64.\n\n\n  Dancing-ground, 50.\n\n  Dancing of chorus, 78-80.\n\n  Date of _Hecuba_, 215 n.\n\n  Dea ex machina, in E. _Ion_, 240;\n    _Melanippe_, 306.\n    See also Deus.\n\n  Death on stage, according to Aristotle, 45;\n    of Alcestis and Hippolytus, 46.\n\n  Defects in S. _Ajax_, 135-6.\n\n  Delian confederacy, 13.\n\n  \u2014 festival, 215 and n.\n\n  Delirium of Orestes, on stage, 70.\n\n  Delphic oracle, in E. _Erech._, 297;\n    _Ion_, 237 ff.;\n    _I. T._, 247 ff.;\n    _Teleph._, 295-6.\n\n  Demos, 325.\n\n  D\u00e9nouement, Aristotle\u2019s definition of, 47.\n\n  Destiny in E., 318.\n\n  Deus ex machina, acc. to Aristotle, 46;\n    in S. _Philoct._, 163 ff., 312 ff., 315;\n    in E. _Androma._, 312 ff.;\n    _Bac._, _Hel._, _Hipp._, _Ion_, _Iph. A._, _Melan. W._, _Rhes._,\n        _Suppl._, _ibid._, _Medea_, 46, 195-6.\n\n  Deuteragonist, 72.\n\n  Dialogue, 4, 11.\n\n  Difficulties in plot of _Andromache_, 221 ff.\n\n  Dionysia, City or Great, 13, 49, 60, 80.\n\n  \u2014 Rural, 49.\n\n  \u2014 203.\n\n  \u2014 in Alexander\u2019s Camp, 39.\n\n  Dionysiac festivals, 80.\n\n  \u2014 \u2014 at Alexandria, 39.\n\n  \u2014 legends, 2.\n\n  \u2014 worship, 68.\n\n  Distegia, 64-5.\n\n  Dithyrambic chorus, 82.\n\n  Dithyrambs, 1, 3, 23-4, 49.\n\n  \u2014 prize a tripod in, 62.\n\n  \u201cDo and suffer,\u201d 110.\n\n  Doge in Sh. _Merchant of Venice_, 72-3.\n\n  Doors in theatre, 52.\n\n  Dorian mode, 72.\n\n  Dorians and tragedy, 3.\n\n  Doric in lyrics, 3 and n.\n\n  Drama before \u00c6., 4 ff.\n\n  Dramatic art of \u00c6., 125 ff.\n\n  \u2014 criticism, Verrall\u2019s, p. v.\n\n  \u2014 form, p. vi.\n\n  \u2014 irony in S., 179-80.\n\n  \u2014 performance, a State function, 50.\n\n  \u2014 renaissance in Great Britain, p. v.\n\n  \u2014 structure, pp. v, vi, etc.\n\n  \u2014 \u2014 of E. _Medea_, 196-7.\n\n  Dress, effect of, on acting, 70.\n\n  \u2014 of actors and chorus, 68-70.\n\n  \u2014 \u2014 satyric chorus, 69.\n\n  \u2014 \u2014 chorus in E. _Bac._, 68-9.\n\n  \u2014 \u2014 Furies in \u00c6. _Eum._, 69.\n\n  Dressing-room, 52.\n\n\n  Ecclesia of Athens, 270.\n\n  Eccyclema, 64, 66-8;\n    in \u00c6. _Eum._, 67, 111 n.;\n    in E. _H. Fur._, 229.\n\n  Editions of E. _Medea_, 22 and n., 195-6;\n    of _Hippol._, 213-5.\n\n  Effect of dress and masks on acting, 70.\n\n  Egyptian herald in \u00c6. _Suppl._, 123-4, and Eg. messenger in E.\n        _Hel._, 258 ff.\n\n  \u2014 sculpture, 126.\n\n  Elaphebolion, month (Mar.-Apr.), 49.\n\n  Elegies of Ion, 23.\n\n  Elements of tragedy, acc. to Aristotle, 44.\n\n  Eleusinian mysteries, 10-11.\n\n  Eleusinians in E. _Erech._, 297.\n\n  Elizabethan dramatists, 5.\n\n  \u2014 stage-directions, and eccyclema, 66-7.\n\n  Embassy to Syracuse, E. on, 17.\n\n  Encores, 83.\n\n  Epigrams of Ion, 23.\n\n  Episodes, 4 and n., 12.\n\n  \u2014 Ar.\u2019s definition of, 47.\n\n  Episodic plot of _Hecuba_, 216.\n\n  \u2014 plots of E., 312 ff.\n\n  Epitaph of \u00c6., 10 n.\n\n  Eponymus, Archon, 60.\n\n  Eretrian philosophic school, 39.\n\n  Eruption of Etna, 91.\n\n  Etymology of \u201ctragedy,\u201d 62 n.\n\n  Eunuch in Phrynichus\u2019 _Ph\u0153niss\u00e6_, 7.\n\n  Euripidean influence in S. _Philoct._, 163.\n\n  \u2014 \u2014 \u2014 \u2014 _Trach._, 159-60.\n\n  \u2014 _Supplices_, 65.\n\n  \u2014 versification of Sosiphanes, 41.\n\n  Evidence of architectural remains, in stage controversy, 57-8.\n\n  \u2014 \u2014 extant dramas, in stage controversy, 56-7.\n\n  \u2014 \u2014 tradition, in stage controversy, 57.\n\n  Examining-boards and S. _Ajax_, p. vi.\n\n  Exodos, 78;\n    Ar.\u2019s definition of, 47.\n\n  \u201cExpedit esse deos,\u201d 257 n.\n\n\n  Fate in \u00c6., 130;\n    in E., 318;\n    in E. _Troades_, 246.\n\n  \u201cFates\u201d in British Museum, 182.\n\n  Faults in _\u0152. Tyr._, 150 ff.\n\n  Fixed proscenium, 58.\n\n  Flowers, Ch\u00e6remon\u2019s love of, 32-3.\n\n  Flute-players, 6, 60, 70-2.\n\n  Form, dramatic, p. v.\n\n  Fourth actor, 71.\n\n  Fragments of Aristophanes, 119 and n.\n\n  \u2014 \u2014 \u00c6., 117 ff.;\n    of E., 295 ff.;\n    of S., 173-6.\n\n  French Revolution, 30.\n\n  Frenzies in E. _Orestes_, 275;\n    frenzy, 65.\n\n  Fundamental law in criticism of Greek tragedy, 155.\n\n  Furies, 67-8, 111 ff., 249;\n    and Attica, 131;\n    grove of, 168 ff.;\n    in \u00c6. _Choeph._, 108;\n    _Eum._, 77 n.;\n    in S. _\u0152. Col._, 169;\n    in E. _Iph. T._, 247;\n    _Orestes_, 269.\n\n\n  Gallery, 51.\n\n  \u2014 on Elizabethan stage, 65.\n\n  Gamelion, month (Jan.-Feb.), 49.\n\n  Gangways, 51.\n\n  General appreciation of \u00c6., 120 ff.;\n    of S., 177 ff.;\n    of E., 310 ff.\n\n  Generals, board of, 13.\n\n  Generals\u2019 seats, 81.\n\n  Geography, in _Prometheus_-trilogy, and _Daughters of Sun_, of \u00c6.,\n        119;\n    and in S. _Triptolemus_, 173.\n\n  Ghost of Clyt\u00e6mnestra, in \u00c6. _Eum._, 111 ff.\n\n  \u2014 \u2014 Polydorus, in E. _Hec._, 215 ff.\n\n  Ghosts in theatre, 55, 64.\n\n  Goat as tragic prize, 62.\n\n  \u201cGoat-song,\u201d 62 n.\n\n  \u201cGod\u201d in E., 283 f.\n\n  Golden Fleece in E. _Medea_, 192 ff.\n\n  \u2014 \u2014 \u2014 \u2014 _Hypsip._, 305.\n\n  \u2014 Lamb, 257.\n\n  Gorgon, in E. _Andromeda_, 240.\n\n  Graces and Muses in E., 326.\n\n  \u201cGracious Ones,\u201d 113 n.\n\n  Gr\u00e6co-Roman type of theatre, 59 n.\n\n  Grandeur of \u00c6.\u2019s dramatic art, 125.\n\n  \u2014 \u2014 \u2014 language, 121.\n\n  Great Dionysia, 49, 80.\n\n  Greek Drama originated in Dionysiac worship, 1.\n\n  \u2014 \u2014 an act of worship, 49.\n\n  \u2014 enlightenment, 325.\n\n  \u2014 Messenger in E. _Helena_, 258 n.\n\n  \u2014 Statues, 182-3.\n\n  Guard in E. _Bacch\u00e6_, 277 ff.;\n    in S. _Antig._, 144.\n\n\n  Hades, 95;\n    in Pirithous, 29.\n\n  Harpist, S. as, 71.\n\n  Hellenistic world, 20.\n\n  Hellenotamias, 13.\n\n  Hemicyclion, 64.\n\n  Herald in \u00c6. _Ag._, 73;\n    _Suppl._, 123;\n    of Thebes, in E. _Suppl._, 234 ff.\n\n  Herdsman in _Rhesus_, 291 n. and ff.\n\n  \u201cHero\u201d in Greek sense, 136.\n\n  High stage, 53-4.\n\n  Hissing a play, 83.\n\n  Homeric question, 52.\n\n  Hoplite, \u00c6. as, 10.\n\n  Horses on stage, 64.\n\n  Huntsmen in E. _Hippol._, 71.\n\n  Hymns of Ion, 23.\n\n  Hypnotism in E. _Bacch\u00e6_, 282.\n\n  Hyporchema, 6, 78.\n\n  Hypothesis of E. _Cycl._, 290 n.;\n    of _Suppl._, 235 n.\n\n\n  Icria, 81.\n\n  Improvisation, 5.\n\n  Innovations of Agathon, 26 f.\n\n  Interpolations in E. _Ph\u0153niss\u00e6_, 265 ff.\n\n  Invocation of Agamemnon\u2019s shade, in \u00c6. _Choeph._, 74.\n\n  Ionian revolt, 7.\n\n  Irony, S.\u2019s dramatic, 179-80.\n\n  Isthmian games, 23.\n\n  Ivy crown of poet and choregus, 61.\n\n  \u2014 sacred to Dionysus, 61-2.\n\n\n  Japanese theatre, 68.\n\n  Judges of dramas, 12-13, 61.\n\n  Judges\u2019 seats in theatre, 81.\n\n\n  Laced\u00e6monian society in E. _Andromache_, 224.\n\n  Landscape, allusions to, in drama, 63.\n\n  Language of Homer, 123.\n\n  Later Greek view of E., 323.\n\n  Lead, theatre-ticket of, 82.\n\n  Lemnian chorus in \u00c6. and E. _Philoctetes_, 166.\n\n  Len\u00e6a, 34, 49, 60.\n\n  Lessee of theatre, 82.\n\n  Library of Alexandria, 39.\n\n  \u2014 \u2014 Euripides, 17.\n\n  Libretto, 72, 312.\n\n  Lightning on stage, 64.\n\n  \u201cLiterature of escape,\u201d 184.\n\n  \u201cLiturgy\u201d or public service, 60.\n\n  Logeion, 53, 57, 64.\n\n  Low stage, 54.\n\n  Ludovisi Hera, 182.\n\n  Lycians in _Rhesus_, 291 ff.\n\n  Lycurgean theatre, 58.\n\n  Lydian mode, 72.\n\n\n  Machinery, on stage, 64-5.\n\n  \u201cMadonna of the Grand Duke,\u201d by Raffaelle, 102.\n\n  \u201cMarathon, men of,\u201d 325.\n\n  Masks, 5, 58, 68-9;\n    invented by Ch\u0153rilus? 6;\n    effect on acting, 70.\n\n  \u201cMelian dialogue\u201d in Thucydides, 167 n.\n\n  Melodrama, 307.\n\n  \u201cMen of Marathon,\u201d 325.\n\n  Messenger or messengers: in E. _Bacch._, 277 ff.;\n    _El._, 252-3;\n    _Helena_, 258 ff.;\n    _Iph. A._, 285 f.;\n    _Ph\u0153n._, 264-5;\n    _Suppl._, 234 n.;\n    in S. _\u0152. Col._, 185.\n\n  Metaphors, 123, etc.\n\n  Minor parts well played, 73.\n\n  Mixed, or \u201cmixo-,\u201d Lydian mode, 19, 72.\n\n  Model tragedy, in Ar. _Poetic_, the _\u0152. Tyr._, 148.\n\n  Modes in music, 72.\n\n  Monastic spirit in Hellas, 310.\n\n  Monody, 74.\n\n  Mounting of plays, 60, 62 ff.\n\n  Muse in _Rhesus_, 291 n. and ff.;\n    Muses in \u00c6. _Bassar._, 117;\n    in E. _H. Fur._, 229.\n\n  Music, 26, 71-2;\n    and Pratinas, 6.\n\n  Music-hall, or Odeum, 56.\n\n  Mutes, 70-1.\n\n  Mysteries of Eleusis, 10-11.\n\n\n  Naiad-lyric in E. _Hel._, 261.\n\n  Natural science in E., 319.\n\n  Nemean games, 304.\n\n  \u2014 women in E. _Hypsip._, 304.\n\n  New comedy, 19, 336.\n\n  Nightingale-lyric in E. _Hel._, 261;\n    in _Rhes._, 292-3.\n\n  No word for stage in older literature, 57.\n\n  Number of actors, 5, 11-12, 15-16, 73.\n\n  Nurse in \u00c6. _Choeph._, 124;\n    E. _Hippol._, 205 ff.;\n    in S. _Trach._, 158 n.;\n    in Sh. _Romeo and J._, 124.\n\n  Nymph Cyllene, in S. _Ichn._, 176;\n    Echo, in S. _Philoct._, 166.\n\n\n  Objections of A. and Ar. to E., 312 ff.\n\n  Obol, 81.\n\n  Obscenity in ritual, 81.\n\n  Oceanids in \u00c6. _P. V._, 76, 124.\n\n  Ochlocracy, 30.\n\n  Odes in Tragedy, 77.\n\n  Odeum, or Music-hall, 56.\n\n  Old Comedy, 81.\n\n  \u2014 man, in E. _Iph. A._, 285 ff.\n\n  \u2014 woman, in E. _Helena_, 258 ff.\n\n  Olympian Gods, and \u00c6., 130;\n    in S. _El._, 142;\n    in E. _Hippol._, 209;\n    _Ion_, 238 ff.;\n    _Iph. T._, 249;\n    _Or._, 276;\n    _Troad._, 246.\n\n  Oncus, 69.\n\n  Optical relations of stage and auditorium, 58.\n\n  Oracle of Delphi;\n    in _Ion_, 237;\n    and _see_ DELPHIC ORACLE.\n\n  Orchestra, 50, 57-8, 64.\n\n  Order in theatre, 82.\n\n  Origin of comedy, 1 and n.;\n    of tragedy, 1 ff.\n\n  Oxyrhynchus papyri, 18 and n., 175 ff., 304 and n., etc. [vi.,\n        19-106; ix. 124-82].\n\n\n  P\u00e6an on Salamis, 12;\n    P\u00e6ans, 23.\n\n  P\u00e6dagogi, brought on stage by Neophron, 21.\n\n  P\u00e6dagogus, in S. _El._, 141 ff.;\n    E. _Ion_, 236 ff.;\n    _Med._, 192;\n    _Ph\u0153n._, 264 ff.\n\n  Papyri, _see_ Oxyrhynchus.\n\n  Parachoregema, 71.\n\n  Parallel of sculpture and \u00c6.\u2019s art, 125-6.\n\n  Parascenia, 53-4, 71.\n\n  Parian marble, the, 17.\n\n  Parodos, -oi, 77, 81;\n    Ar.\u2019s definition of, 47.\n\n  Parody: of Agathon, in A. _Thesmoph._, 27-8;\n    of E. _Andromeda_, in A. _Thesm._, 298;\n    _Belleroph._, in A. _Peace_, 297;\n    of _Tel._ in A. _Acharn._ and _Thesm._, 296;\n    of _Helena_ in A. _Thesm._, 262.\n\n  Parts of a theatre, 50 ff.\n\n  Passage-ways, 51.\n\n  Peace-lyric, in E. _Cresph._, 308-9.\n\n  Peasant in E. _Electra_, 252 ff.\n\n  \u201cPegs,\u201d 51.\n\n  Pelasgians, 272.\n\n  Pelopid curse, in \u00c6. _Agam._, 106;\n    family, 258.\n\n  Peloponnesian war, 163, 200, 201 n., 219 n., 325.\n\n  Performers and their work, 70 ff.\n\n  Periacti, 63, 65.\n\n  Peripeteia, definition and examples of, given by Aristotle, 37, 47-8;\n    in Agathon, 27;\n    in E., 18-19;\n    in S. _Antig._, 140;\n    in _Philoct._, 163.\n\n  Persian counsellors, 7, 356;\n    invasions, 10.\n\n  Phallic songs, 1 n.\n\n  Pher\u00e6an elders\u2019 chorus, in E. _Alc._, 186.\n\n  Philosophy in E., 319.\n\n  \u201cPh\u0153bus,\u201d watchword in _Rhesus_, 291 ff.\n\n  Ph\u0153nician women, chorus of in E. and Phry. _Ph\u0153n._, 9, 264.\n\n  Phrygian in E. _Orestes_, 268 ff.\n\n  \u2014 mode, 16, 72.\n\n  \u2014 slave, his solo, in E. _Or._, 72.\n\n  Phrygians, 224.\n\n  Phrynichean treatment of theme, 108.\n\n  Picturesqueness of \u00c6.\u2019s dramatic structure, 127-8;\n    of his characterization, 124;\n    language, 123-4.\n\n  _Plan of theatre_ (illustration), 51.\n\n  Platform, 56.\n\n  Plays with two actors only, 12 and n.\n\n  \u201cPleiad\u201d at Alexandria, 39.\n\n  Pleiads in E. _Phaethon_, 302.\n\n  Plot in Tragedy, acc. to Aristotle, vi, 44;\n    of _Agam._, Verrall\u2019s theory, 100 ff.\n\n  Politics, \u00c6.\u2019s interest in, 128 and n.;\n    in E., 319.\n\n  Pommery, 74 n.\n\n  Popularity of E. _Ph\u0153n._, 265.\n\n  Poseideon, month (Dec.-Jan.), 49.\n\n  Priest of Dionysus, 80.\n\n  Privileges of actors, 75.\n\n  Prize for acting, 61, 75.\n\n  Probability in Agathon, 27.\n\n  Proedria, 81.\n\n  Producers of plays, 60.\n\n  Production of plays, 49 ff.\n\n  Prologos, Ar.\u2019s definition of, 19, 47.\n\n  Prologue in E., 19 and n.\n\n  \u2014 of Phrynichus\u2019 _Ph\u0153niss\u00e6_, 7.\n\n  Pronunciation in Greek and English theatres, 74.\n\n  Propagandist plays of Diogenes and Crates, 37.\n\n  Properties, 64.\n\n  Property-rooms, 52.\n\n  Prophetess in E. _Ion_, 236 ff.\n\n  Prophets of Israel and \u00c6., 121.\n\n  Propompi in \u00c6. _Eum._, 71.\n\n  Proscenium, 53, 58.\n\n  Prose-drama of E., 323.\n\n  Protagonist, 60-1, 72 ff.\n\n  Psychological drama of E., 318.\n\n  _Pulpitum_, 56.\n\n  Puritans, 30.\n\n  Purpose and scope of the book, p. v.\n\n  Pythian priestess, in \u00c6. _Eum._, 111;\n    in E. _Ion_, 237.\n\n\n  _Quo Vadis?_ legend, 165.\n\n\n  Rationalism in Critias\u2019 _Sisyphus_, 30;\n    in E., 315, etc.\n\n  Realism in E., 321.\n\n  Recitative, 74.\n\n  Recognition in tragedy, acc. to Aristotle, 45;\n    in \u00c6. _Choeph._, 258;\n    in Arnold\u2019s _Merope_, 308-9;\n    in E. _Cresph._, _ib._;\n    _Hel._, 260;\n    _Hypsip._, 305;\n    _Ion_, 237 ff.;\n    _Iph. T._, 31, 45, 73, 248;\n    in Polyidus\u2019 _Iph._, 31;\n    in S. _El._, 142, 144;\n    _Tereus_, 174 n.\n\n  Recoil in drama, Ar.\u2019s definition of, 45, 47-8;\n    in S. _Antig._, 140.\n\n  Religion in E., 319, etc.;\n    in S., 177;\n    in \u00c6. _Eum._, 114;\n    of \u00c6., 128.\n\n  Remains of theatre buildings at Athens, 52.\n\n  Renaissance in Great Britain, Dramatic, p. v.\n\n  Reticence of Athenian art, 183.\n\n  Reversal of action in tragedy, acc. to Aristotle, 45, 47-8.\n\n  Rhapsody of Ch\u00e6remon, 32.\n\n  \u201cRod-bearers,\u201d 82.\n\n  Roman theatres, 52.\n\n  Romance and classicism, 320.\n\n  \u2014 in E., 320-1.\n\n  Rural Dionysia, 49.\n\n\n  Sack of Melos, 244.\n\n  Sacrificial Table, 1, 4.\n\n  Salaminian sailors, chorus of, in S. _Ajax_, 132.\n\n  Salamis, victory of, 7, 12, 14, 38.\n\n  \u201cSalome\u201d dances, 78.\n\n  _Salon_ of Sophocles, 14.\n\n  Satyric chorus, 80.\n\n  \u2014 drama, 1, 2, 6, 17, 23, 25, 61, 81 n., 175-6, 192, 289 ff., etc.\n\n  Satyrs, 1;\n    chorus of, in _Cycl._, 289 ff.\n\n  Sc\u00e6nici, 53.\n\n  Sc\u0113n\u0113, 52, 59.\n\n  Scene-painting, 4, 15, 16, 62.\n\n  Scenery, 62 ff.\n\n  Scholia: on \u00c6. _Choeph._ [900], 73 n.;\n    _Pers._, 87;\n    _Prom. V._ [128], 57;\n    on _Aristoph._, 22 n.;\n    _Frogs_ [303], 74 n.;\n    _Frogs_ [53], 304 n.;\n    _Wasps_ [1342], 57;\n    on Eurip., 21;\n    _Ph\u0153n._, 265;\n    _Rhes._ [528], 294 and n.\n\n  Scolia, 23.\n\n  Sculpture of Assyria, Egypt, Greece, Praxiteles, 125-6.\n\n  Sea-Nymphs, in \u00c6. _P. V._, 94.\n\n  Seating accommodation in theatre, Athens, 50 and n.\n\n  Seats in theatre, 80 ff.\n\n  Selection of dramatic judges, 61.\n\n  Semi-choruses, 78.\n\n  Sentinels, chorus of, in _Rhesus_, 291 ff.\n\n  Servant, in E. _Ion_, 236 ff.\n\n  Seven against Thebes, in E. _Suppl._, 234 ff.\n\n  Shepherd, in E. _El._, 253.\n\n  Shrine of Thetis, in E. _Androma._, 219 ff.\n\n  Sicilian expedition, 244, 252 n.\n\n  Side-wings, 51, 54.\n\n  Sikinnis dance, 80.\n\n  Simplicity of Athenian art, 183;\n    of \u00c6.\u2019s dramatic structure, 126.\n\n  \u2014 \u2014 \u00c6.\u2019s language, 122.\n\n  Sin, as material defilement, in \u00c6., 130 n.\n\n  \u2014 in Euripides, 318 ff.\n\n  Slave in _Iph. A._, 322.\n\n  Socratic novices in A. _Clouds_, 68.\n\n  Solo by Phrygian slave in E. _Or._, 72.\n\n  Songs of Phrynichus, 8.\n\n  Sophistry in E., 317.\n\n  (\u201cSpartam nactus es, hanc exorna\u201d), 295.\n\n  Spartans, 201 n., 204.\n\n  \u201cSpeaking-place,\u201d 53;\n    \u201cfor gods,\u201d 65.\n\n  Sphinx, 265, 267-8 n.;\n    in S. _\u0152. Tyr._, 151.\n\n  Stage, 52 ff.\n\n  Stage-buildings, 50 ff.\n\n  \u2014 -direction in S. _Ichn._, 175 n.\n\n  \u2014 -machinery, 64 ff.\n\n  \u2014 -properties, 64.\n\n  \u2014 used after 300 B.C., 53.\n\n  Stasima, 77;\n    -on, Ar.\u2019s definition of, 47.\n\n  Statues in Greek plays, 62.\n\n  \u2014 of playwrights, 31.\n\n  Stewards in theatre, 82.\n\n  Stropheion, 64.\n\n  Structure, dramatic, v, vi, etc.\n\n  \u201cStudy-plays\u201d of Diogenes and Crates, 37.\n\n  Sun-god, in E. _Medea_, 195;\n    _Phaethon_, 301-3.\n\n  Supervision of dramatic displays, 60 ff.\n\n  Suttee, in E. _Suppl._, 235.\n\n\n  Table in orchestra, 50.\n\n  Table, sacrificial, 1, 4.\n\n  Tableaux in Greek theatre, 66.\n\n  Taurians in E. _Iph. T._, 247 ff.\n\n  Technical changes made by \u00c6., 11;\n    by S., 15-6.\n\n  Temple of Athena, in _Eumen._, 63.\n\n  Tent, 52 (of Agamemnon).\n\n  Tetralogy, 15, 17, 24, 50, 61, 87.\n\n  Theatre, 80 ff.\n\n  \u2014 at Athens, remains of, 59 n.\n\n  \u2014 buildings, 50 ff.\n\n  \u2014 Gr\u00e6co-Roman type, in Asia Minor, 59 n.\n\n  \u2014 its parts and construction, 50 ff.\n\n  \u2014 not roofed, 50.\n\n  \u2014 of Dionysus, Athens, 49, 56.\n\n  \u2014 \u2014 Lycurgus, 57.\n\n  \u2014 ticket, 82.\n\n  Thebans, chorus of, in E. _H. Fur._, 228 ff.\n\n  Theologeion, 64-5.\n\n  Theoric fund, 82.\n\n  Thessalian, in E. _Andromache_, 226-7.\n\n  Thesmophoria, festival, 262.\n\n  Third actor, 16.\n\n  Thirty tyrants, 29-30.\n\n  Thought in tragedy, acc. to Aristotle, 44.\n\n  Thracian Edoni, 117.\n\n  Thracians in E. _Erech._, 297;\n    _Rhes._, 291 ff.\n\n  \u201cThree Unities,\u201d 42 n.\n\n  Thunder-machine, 64.\n\n  Thymele, 57;\n    -melici, 53.\n\n  Times of dramatic performances, 50.\n\n  \u201cTo give a chorus,\u201d 60.\n\n  Tomb of Achilles, in _Hec._, 216;\n    of Agamemnon, in \u00c6. _Choeph._, 106;\n    in E. _El._, 253;\n    of Clyt\u00e6mnestra, in E. _Or._, 269;\n    of Proteus, in E. _Hel._, 259;\n    importance of tombs acc. to Prof. Ridgeway, 3, 64 and n.\n\n  \u201cTo receive a chorus,\u201d 60.\n\n  Torturing of slaves, in drama, 21.\n\n  Tradition, evidence of, in stage controversy, 57.\n\n  Tragedy, origin of, 1 ff.\n\n  Tragic contest, begun by Pisistratus, 50.\n\n  \u2014 diction, created by \u00c6., 122.\n\n  \u2014 incident in tragedy, acc. to Aristotle, 45.\n\n  Tragicomedy in E., 19.\n\n  Trainers of actors and choruses, 60.\n\n  Travelling companies of actors, 49.\n\n  Treasury Board, 13.\n\n  Trilogy, 16.\n\n  Tripod, prize for dithyramb, 62.\n\n  Tritagonist, 72.\n\n  Tr\u0153zenian women, chorus of, in E. _Hippol._, 205 ff.\n\n  Trojans, in E. _Philoct._, 297;\n    _Rhesus_, 291 ff.\n\n  \u2014 women, chorus of, in E. _Troades_, 243 ff.\n\n  Two actors only, in certain plays, 12 and n.\n\n  Tyrants, thirty, 29.\n\n\n  Unities, three, 42 n.\n\n  Unity of Place, 42 n.;\n    violated in \u00c6. _Eum._, and in S. _Aj._, 42 n.\n\n  Unravelling in drama, Ar.\u2019s definition of, 47.\n\n\n  Vase-paintings, 41.\n\n  Verse-translations of Professor Murray, v, 185, 211, 214, 280.\n\n  Versions of E. _Medea_, 22 and n., 195-6;\n    of _Hippol._, 213-5.\n\n  Vitruvian stage, 53 ff.\n\n  Vote of Athena, in \u00c6. _Eumen._, 112 and n.\n\n\n  Waggon of Thespis, 5, 50.\n\n  Was there a stage in the Greek theatre? 52 ff.\n\n  \u2014 \u2014 ever a fourth actor? 71.\n\n  Watchmen in \u00c6. _Agam._, 64, 124.\n\n  What does Aristotle think of Peripeteia? 48.\n\n  White shoes of actors, 16.\n\n  Wine-lees, faces of Thespis\u2019 actors smeared with, 5, 68.\n\n  \u201cWine-Press Festival,\u201d 49, _see_ Len\u00e6a.\n\n  Wit in E. _Orestes_, 323;\n    in E. generally, 321-3.\n\n  Wooden horse, 243.\n\n  Wrestling in Phrynichus\u2019 _Ant\u00e6us_, 7 and n.\n\n\n       PRINTED IN GREAT BRITAIN AT THE UNIVERSITY PRESS, ABERDEEN","title":"Greek tragedy","tradition":"myth-cosmogony","translated_text":null,"word_count":138276}