SOURCE: William Nickerson Bates, "The Life of Euripides," in Euripides: A Student of Human Nature, University of Pennsylvania Press, 1930, pp. 1-56.

[In the following excerpt, Bates reviews the characteristics of Euripides's tragedies in terms of the biographical and social conditions that helped create them.]

THE LIFE OF EURIPIDES

In seeking to obtain a true perspective of any great figure in the history of literature and a just appreciation of his works it is important at the beginning to find out as much as possible about his family and the conditions under which he lived. If we can learn something about his parents, what sort of people they were, what their position in the community, under what conditions they lived, how the boy was brought up, what sort of boy he was, what sort of family life he had when he came to manhood, under what conditions he wrote, how his work was received by his contemporaries, and other matters of that sort we shall be in a good position to judge what he was striving to accomplish and what success he obtained. In the case of Euripides considerable information is available, but before setting this forth it is well to consider briefly where it comes from, that we may be in a position to decide to what extent it may be relied upon.

The sources for a life of Euripides fall naturally into three groups. 1. There are the biographies which have come down from antiquity in one form or another. 2. There are various pieces of information about the poet gathered from explicit statements or casual allusions in various ancient writers. 3. There are inferences to be drawn from his own plays. These different sources furnish an amount of evidence which, when tested, yields a fairly complete and satisfactory account of the poet's life. An incident mentioned in one source and confirmed in another, if the testimony is really independent, is quite likely to be true; whereas a casual statement in an unfriendly author, if unconfirmed, must be looked upon with suspicion. It seems advisable, therefore, to examine the three groups of sources in turn and then to set forth the results which may justly be drawn from them.

SOURCES

I

An ancient Γένος Eν́ριπίδον καί βίος, commonly referred to as the Vita or Life, exists to-day in five versions in different manuscripts of Euripides.¹ This Life is probably based upon several ancient sources, for the names of three authorities are mentioned in it. First there is Philochorus, who is known to have written a life of Euripides which was either a separate monograph, or part of a larger work on tragedy. Our information on this point is not explicit.² This is probably the chief source of many of the statements about the poet which have come down to modern times. Then there is Eratosthenes who wrote a Chronographia, in which the important dates of Euripides as well as of other writers were recorded. The third is Hermippus of Smyrna, who published a great biographical work which included lives of famous poets and among them that of Euripides. These three writers all lived in the third century B.C. In addition to this Life there is a short biography in the Lexicon of Suidas; and another in the Noctes Atticae of Aulus Gellius, both of which go back to the same sources as the Life.

Important, too, is still another source which has come to light in recent years. This is a papyrus manuscript from Oxyrhynchus in the Fayûm consisting of about 750 very short lines, besides many little fragments, which had once been part of the Sixth Book of the Biographies of Satyrus. This we learn from the title which is still preserved and which reads Σα̂Tν́ρον Bίων άνᾲγρᾷφη̂ς ςAίσχν́λον Σοςοκλέονς, Eν́ριδον. It dates from the second century A.D. and was first published by A. S. Hunt in the ninth volume of the Oxyrhynchus Papyri (1912, pp. 124 ff.). Satyrus was an author who lived in the second, or possibly in the third century B.C. and, although little is known about him, his Lives were famous. They are repeatedly referred to by Athenaeus and by Diogenes Laertius. He was himself a native of Oxyrhynchus, where the papyrus was found. He wrote on the lives of kings, such as Dionysius the Younger and Philip; statesmen and generals, such as Alcibiades; orators, for example Demosthenes; philosophers, including Pythagoras, Empedocles, Anaxagoras, Socrates and Plato; as well as on the lives of the poets.³ The portion of the work preserved has to do with Euripides, and is in the form of a dialogue in which there were three speakers. This was clearly one of the unnamed sources of the Life of Euripides. It gives us some hitherto unknown facts about the poet and adds a few new fragments from lost plays. No doubt other unnamed sources were employed directly or indirectly by the anonymous author of the Life, but it is impossible to say with any degree of certainty what they were, or what each contributed.

II

The second group of sources calls for less comment. They are numerous and widely scattered, and altogether add considerable information about the poet and his reputation. One, however, and that not the least famous, must be used with great caution. I refer to Aristophanes. In the Acharnians, the Frogs and the Thesmophoriazousae Euripides is made to play an important part and is ridiculed unmercifully. Unfortunately many writers both ancient and modern have accepted the extravagant jokes and innuendos of Aristophanes as if they were to a greater or less degree historical facts. As a result they have set forth ideas about Euripides and his tragedy which do not at all accord with information from other sources, or with his extant dramas. Aristophanes did not like the kind of tragedy which Euripides wrote, or pretended that he did not like it, and he did everything he could to cast discredit upon the plays and their author. He professed to be offended at some of the famous mythological stories which Euripides made the basis of certain of his plots, though he might with equal propriety have been offended with some of the plots of Sophocles. He objected to the costuming and the stage devices of Euripides, and to his diction. This, it is true, is not far removed from that of the best Attic prose, but it must be borne in mind that his style is never commonplace. Finally Aristophanes objected to his lyrics. Most of this criticism seems to us captious, if not unjust. It is not unlikely that the two men were personal enemies. At any rate the great master of comedy was not fair to Euripides, and he did not intend to be fair. He has, therefore, given us a portrait of him which is as far from the truth as his portrait of Socrates in the Clouds. All statements, then, made in the comedies of Aristophanes about Euripides or his family, statements often absurdly elaborated by the unknown writers of the scholia upon those passages, must be treated with the greatest caution, if not wholly rejected. They are responsible for many of the erroneous ideas about the poet which are so often repeated today even by people who should know better.

III

Of the third group of sources, the tragedies themselves, still less remains to be said. Here again great caution must be used. Because the poet makes a character in a certain situation express certain opinions it does not necessarily follow that the opinions set forth are those of the poet himself. The dramatist makes his characters say what he thinks they ought to say under certain conditions, quite apart from his own individual opinion. It is only where the same ideas recur repeatedly under very different circumstances that we are justified in affirming that they represent the poet's own convictions. So, for example, when Pylades in the Iphigenia among the Taurians (678) says that if he returns safely to Argos without Orestes the people, "for the many are base," will accuse him of contriving his friend's death to gain the royal power, his words are those which a prince might well express under the circumstances. They cannot be taken to prove that Euripides was unfriendly to democracy. Unfortunately ancient commentators, and modern, too, have sometimes been led to draw from such statements in the plays conclusions about the poet's personal opinions for which they cannot be regarded as legitimate evidence.

With these considerations in mind we may reconstruct the life of Euripides somewhat as follows.

LIFE

He was born on the island of Salamis in the year 480 B.C., probably on the very day of the great battle, as is stated by Plutarch and other authorities.⁴ The year is so carefully given by so many ancient authorities that there seem to be no reasonable grounds for doubting its correctness, in spite of the fact that the Parian Marble gives the date as 485 B.C., the archonship of Philocrates.⁵ His parents, in spite of Aristophanes, seem to have been people of means and of good standing in the town of Phlya, about six miles northeast of Athens, where they lived.⁶ His father's name was Mnesarchus or Mnesarchides according to Suidas, more likely the latter, which is the only name given in the Life, and is, besides, the name of one of his sons. His mother was named Clito.⁷ As a boy he took part in a festival in honor of Delian Apollo, pouring wine for the dancers. This seems to have been an honor, and is probably evidence of the respected position of his parents in the community, for the dancers are described as being prominent Athenians.⁸ We are also told that he was once torch-bearer … of Apollo of Zoster,⁹ and perhaps this, too, was before he had grown to manhood. He had the training in athletics usual in his time and may have excelled in the pancration and boxing.¹⁰ Nothing else is known of his early life. He seems to have begun his career as a painter, and paintings attributed to him were exhibited at Megara in later times.¹¹ Evidences of his artistic training have been pointed out in his tragedies by various commentators, and it may well be that the vividness of some of his descriptions is due in part to his experience as a painter.

If we may believe Aulus Gellius,¹² Euripides began to write at the age of eighteen, and in 455 B.C., when he was twenty-five years old, he won his first chorus. This means that in that year for the first time he was permitted to compete for the tragic prize; but he was beaten by both of his competitors. His Peliades was one of the plays presented by him at this time.¹³ He is said to have won his first victory¹⁴ in the year 441-440, but the titles of the plays have not come down to us.

Euripides is said to have been the friend, if not pupil, of several well-known philosophers and sophists. Thus in the Life¹⁵ he is called a "hearer" … of Anaxagoras, Prodicus and Protagoras, and a friend … of Socrates. We find this statement repeated elsewhere,¹⁶ but to what extent it is true it is not easy to find out. Prodicus and Socrates were both younger than he was so that it is extremely unlikely that he should have been a pupil of either. Anaxagoras and Protagoras were, however, older, and it is not impossible that he studied under them. Very likely he knew all of these men, for Athens in the fifth century B.C. was not so large that every literary or scholarly man in town would not know something of every other. Moreover Anaxagoras lived there for about thirty years,¹⁷ and, as he seems to have been a man of a temperament not unlike that of Euripides, the two may well have been attracted to each other. The poet may have been influenced by the philosopher in his attitude towards life even if he were not his pupil. When, however, we come to examine the extant plays for proof of this influence we find very little evidence of it. There are, to be sure, statements in the literature that Euripides represented the theories of Anaxagoras on the stage, such as the passage in Diogenes Laertius¹⁸ which says that in the Phaethon he represented the sun as a golden mass.¹⁹ Again, in Fragment 836 from the lost Chrysippus there is mention of two elements, Air and Earth, from which all living things were created; and Vitruvius²⁰ implies that this is a theory of Anaxagoras. But this cannot be proved; and, furthermore, Nestle has pointed out²¹ that two other theories of creation may also be found in Euripides.

Furthermore if we search the plays and fragments for evidence for the most important of all his theories, the doctrine of Noν̂s, or Mind, which governs the universe, we shall not find it; although such a reference does exist in the spurious Pirithous. It looks very much, therefore, as if Euripides was an acquaintance rather than a pupil of Anaxagoras, and that, although he may have been interested in his theories, he was not deeply influenced by them.²²

The case seems to have been much the same with regard to his relations to other philosophers and sophists. He may have been intimate with Protagoras; though the story that the latter read his famous essay on the gods, which caused his banishment from Athens, in the house of Euripides is not well attested.²³ There are a few other points of contact between the two. Diogenes Laertius²⁴ states on the authority of Philochorus that Euripides in his Ixion referred to the loss of Protagoras by shipwreck. Then there is an echo of the famous dictum "Man is the measure of all things" in Fragment 19 from the Aeolus. Furthermore the statement in Fragment 189 (from the Antiope) that the man clever at speaking may make contradictory arguments out of every subject may also be due to Protagoras. But references such as these are altogether insufficient to prove that their relationship was ever that of pupil and master.

The statement in the Life that he was a friend of Socrates may well be true. Aelian²⁵ records an interesting tale which also may be true, that Socrates rarely went to the theatre, but always went to see a new play by Euripides, even to the Piraeus. There is, however, no trace of the influence of Socrates in the extant plays.

It seems clear, therefore, that during the formative period of his mind Euripides was not profoundly influenced by Anaxagoras or any other philosopher, whether he was his pupil or not. No doubt he read widely in the works of various philosophers and some hints of this may be found in the plays, where certain statements may be traced back to doctrines of Heraclitus, Empedocles, Epicharmus and others.²⁶ But this evidence taken as a whole is scanty. In fact it is quite insufficient to prove Euripides to have been the follower of any one of them. At the same time he was distinctly of a philosophical turn of mind, so that Athenaeus²⁷ and others could speak of him as the "Stage philosopher" … He had a philosophy of his own and he drew his ideas from many sources.

Very little is known of his private life during his maturity. He seems to have taken no part in politics, and, in fact, would hardly have had time to do so. In Aristotle's Rhetoric²⁸ a certain reply of his to the Syracusans … is mentioned, and the scholiast on the passage refers it to an occasion when Euripides had been sent as an ambassador to Syracuse. Nothing further is known about this story and it is generally discredited; but there is nothing improbable in the incident itself. It must be remembered that the plays of Euripides were very popular in Sicily. According to Plutarch²⁹ many Athenian prisoners taken after the great disaster of 413 owed their lives and their liberty to their ability to repeat passages from his works, and upon their return to Athens went to him and acknowledged their indebtedness. If, therefore, the Athenians for any reason did send an embassy to Syracuse at any time between the years 413 and 406 B.C. they could not have done better than to appoint Euripides to it. He was decidedly persona grata to the Syracusans, and for that reason, perhaps, really did serve on such a mission. The passage in the scholia does not read like the invention of a scribe; but, on the other hand, there is the silence of the extant biographies as to the incident.

Like most Athenians Euripides appears occasionally to have had his troubles with the law courts. Thus Aristotle³⁰ records a keen retort which he made to an opponent in a case involving an exchange of property. His adversary, a certain Hygiaenon, accused him of impiety for the famous line in the Hippolytus

The tongue has sworn, the mind remains
 unsworn,

but Euripides answered that he was in the wrong in bringing words uttered on the stage into the courts of law; that he had answered him, or would answer him in the theatre if he wished to accuse him. On another occasion, according to the new papyrus of Satyrus, Cleon prosecuted him for impiety, but none of the details are known.

Our information about his family life is very unsatisfactory. It is a strange jumble of what may be true, mixed with nonsense derived from the Thesmophoriazousae of Aristophanes treated as if it were historic fact. He would seem to have been unhappy in his marriage; though here again it is possible that this is a mere inference drawn by some unknown biographer from some of the female characters in his plays, such as Phaedra in the Hippolytus. According to the Life he was married twice. His first wife was named Melito and the second Choirine, or, as Suidas says, Choirile. Wilamowitz-Moellendor³¹ argues that the second wife is a myth, and he may well be right. Aristophanes mentions but one wife. In the Life³² Cephisophon is represented as having caused trouble with the first wife; but this is extremely unlikely. The comic poets would certainly have seized upon such an incident and made the most of it if there had been even a remote suggestion of an intrigue. It would appear that there was not much to be said about his home life, and that uncritical writers of a later age drew their own inferences about it from some of the characters in his tragedies.

He is said to have had three sons who survived him. Mnesarchides, the eldest, became a merchant; the second, Mnesilochus, was an actor; and the youngest, Euripides, called his nephew by Suidas, followed his father's profession of tragic poet.

Of his association with contemporary literary men in Athens there is little satisfactory evidence. Aristophanes, as has already been pointed out, did not like him. On the other hand the story told in the Life that the aged Sophocles put on mourning upon hearing of his death, seems to imply a friendly feeling on the part of the older dramatist. Satyrus³³ tells a story that when the lyric poet Timotheus was so discouraged at the reception of his poems that he was about to take his life, Euripides, who appreciated his genius, consoled him and wrote a prologue for his famous poem, the Persians. This story, if true, points to a kind heart and a willingness to help a fellow poet in adversity.

Towards the end of his life he went to Macedonia, where he died.³⁴ Whether he went on the invitation of King Archelaus, or for some other reason cannot be definitely determined. Satyrus implies that it was at least in part because of annoyance at certain obscure poets. But the kings of Macedonia were glad to receive visits from literary men and when Euripides arrived there he was treated with great distinction. Apparently Archelaus made a sort of confidant of him.³⁵

His death seems to have been caused by accident in a most tragic manner. It appears that one day he was walking by himself in the woods at some distance from the city when the king set out hunting. When the party had passed the city gates, the dogs were released and darting ahead they came upon Euripides and attacked and killed him while the huntsmen were still at a distance.³⁶ Suidas says that two poets who were jealous of him, Arridaeus, a Macedonian, and Crateuas, a Thessalian, bribed the slave Lysimachus, who had charge of the king's dogs, for ten minae, to let them loose upon him. This sounds explicit, and there may be something in it, but Philochorus and Eratosthenes seem not to have believed it. The king was deeply grieved at his death and cut off his hair in token of his sorrow.³⁷

There can be little doubt about the year in which this occurred. Diodorus Siculus on the authority of Apollodorus says that it happened the year before Alexias was archon,³⁸ that is to say in the archonship of Callias, or the third year of the ninety-third Olympiad, which would be the year 406 B.C. This date is confirmed from other sources. The Parian Marble, however, mentions the archonship of Antigenes, which would be Olympiad 93.2; but as the Athenian year began in July, both authorities may refer to the same year B.C. The difference in the names of the archons would imply some doubt as to the month in which the catastrophe occurred.

Euripides was buried in Macedonia near the town of Arethusa.³⁹ Suidas, to be sure, says Pella, but this may safely be rejected. The Athenians sent an embassy to bring back his remains, but the Macedonians declined to give them up.⁴⁰ A cenotaph was then erected to his memory on the road leading from Athens to the Piraeus.⁴¹ The epitaph upon it, composed by his friend Timotheus, or by the historian Thucydides (both names are given), is quoted in the Life.⁴² This monument and the one at Arethusa are both said to have been struck by lightning.

PERSONAL CHARACTERISTICS

Euripides was a hard student and evidently confined himself closely to his literary work. This, perhaps, might be inferred from the fact that he owned a large private library, and composed as many as ninety-two dramas. The mere act of composition would require him to be much by himself, so that he could not, even if he wished have the leisure for the diversions of his fellow Athenians. A story which goes back to Philochorus says that he had a cave on the island of Salamis with the opening towards the sea, and that he retired to it and spent his days in meditation and writing. This story is found in Satyrus⁴³ and in Gellius⁴⁴ as well as in the Life⁴⁵ and may well be true. It may be that this somewhat secluded mode of life produced an effect upon his character. At least he is described as gloomy, thoughtful, stern, a hater of laughter, a hater of women, a man who avoided the society of other men, a man who did not know how to jest even in his cups, and was generally disliked.⁴⁶ Such are the statements about him, but they probably greatly exaggerate the facts even where they are not utterly untrue. A man who had so complete a knowledge of human nature as Euripides displays in his tragedies could not have been altogether a recluse or a misanthrope.

The tradition which made him a hater of women, whether true or not, may be accounted for in two ways. It may be explained if the story of his unhappy married life, which we have seen reason to doubt, were true. Or it may equally well have arisen from the fact that certain of the female characters in his plays were such as to inspire hostility towards them in the minds of the spectators. The fact is that Euripides seems to have been the first to appreciate the dramatic possibilities of representing on the stage the passions usually attributed to women. Thus in the Hippolytus we find vividly portrayed slighted love, fear and revenge; in the Medea, envy and hate; in the Hecuba, revenge. But this does not indicate anything at all as to the personal feelings of the poet about women. It is simply proof of his dramatic genius. Furthermore not all of his heroines are inspired by evil motives. In Alcestis we find a model of wifely devotion, a woman who willingly gives her life for her husband. In the Iphigenia at Aulis we find a young girl gladly giving up her life for her father and her country. In the Iphigenia among the Taurians Iphigenia is willing to risk everything for her brother. In the Heraclidae Macaria joyfully gives her life to save her brothers and sisters. These instances show that Euripides represented noble women on the stage as well as women whose crimes could excite nothing but detestation. The ancient commentators and biographers appear to have overlooked this fact, and to have been impressed only by his Phaedras and Medeas. They have thus done him a grave injustice.

AS AN AUTHOR

Euripides was a prolific writer, but the exact number of his plays cannot now be determined with certainty. In one passage in the Life (line 128) it is stated that he wrote ninety-eight; that sixty-seven were at the time the note was written still extant, besides others which were spurious; that there were eight satyr dramas, of which one was spurious. In another passage in the Life (line 33) the total number is given as ninety-two …,⁴⁷ of which seventy-eight were then preserved; but three, the Tennes, the Rhadamanthys and the Pirithous were spurious. In Suidas the statement is made that according to one authority the plays of Euripides numbered ninety-two, and that seventy-seven were at that time preserved. Varro quoted by Gellius⁴⁸ gave the number as seventy-five, which may represent those extant in his day. Nauck⁴⁹ points out that ninety-eight is probably due to an error in writing. The number ninety-two would be twenty-three tetralogies and might be arrived at from statements in the didascaliae, or official records. Nauck quotes Elmsley as pointing out that the tragedies which failed to obtain a chorus would not be included in this list, but, it is not likely that they would be published. Many years ago Wilamowitz-Moellendorf argued⁵⁰ that in Alexandrian times seventy-eight plays were preserved under the name of Euripides and ninety-two ascribed to him. Of the seventy-eight three tragedies, the Tennes, the Rhadamanthys and the Pirithous and one satyr drama, the Sisyphus, were not genuine. This tetralogy, from all four plays of which fragments are preserved, was probaby written by Critias between 411 and 405 B.C. Of the eighty-eight genuine plays fourteen were then lost. Of those preserved sixty-seven were tragedies and seven satyr dramas. This is a reasonable conclusion from the evidence available and may be accepted until further evidence comes to light.

Two ancient lists of the plays of Euripides exist, but both are incomplete. One is carved on the marble slab which serves as a background for a seated figure of Euripides in the Louvre (the so-called Albani monument), and contains thirty-seven titles in alphabetical order as far as the Orestes.⁵¹ The other is on a slab found at the Piraeus,⁵² on which twenty-three names may be restored. The arrangement here is not strictly alphabetical; but plays beginning with the same letter are grouped together.

Of the large number of plays which he composed nineteen have come down to modern times, and something is known about fifty-five others.⁵³

Portraits

Twenty-six portraits of the poet have come down from antiquity. The best are the heads in Mantua, Naples and Brunswick.⁵⁴ Whether any of them go back to his portrait statue set up in the theatre at Athens⁵⁵ in the time of Lycurgus or not we have no means of knowing. The portraits represent him in mature life. He has a high forehead, long side locks, short, thick beard, and an earnest expression on his face which would seem to justify the words "gloomy, thoughtful and stem" … used to describe his character. It may be that the portrait itself inspired the adjectives. At the same time I find it a highly intellectual face, and one which reveals something of the dreamer. A late relief in Constantinople (Plate I) represents Euripides seated before a statue of the god Dionysus and handing a tragic mask representing Heracles to the Stage, who stands before him in the guise of a young woman. In her right hand she holds a manuscript which she has already received, while the poet holds another in his left hand. The misspelling of the poet's name is significant of its late date.

Fame

Euripides acquired a reputation slowly, and it was only towards the end of his life that he could be called famous. This is proved by the small number of tragic victories which he won,⁵⁶ and by the fact that he was often defeated by inferior poets.⁵⁷ He won the tragic prize but five times altogether, and one of these victories was for tragedies presented after his death by the younger Euripides.⁵⁸ This want of appreciation on the part of the Athenians was not due to any lack of merit in his tragedies. It was rather because he was overshadowed by the two great masters of the tragic stage who had preceded him. It took the Athenians some time to secure a proper perspective, and to realize that they had among them a third great tragic genius worthy to rank with the other two.

But that he did acquire fame towards the latter part of his career is proved by many things, such as the story already quoted that many Athenian soldiers after the great disaster in Sicily owed their lives to their ability to quote from his plays. Again the Life tells of his being honored with special privileges in Magnesia,⁵⁹ and at the court of King Archelaus he was treated with marks of great distinction.⁶⁰ After his death Dionysius of Syracuse purchased for a talent his lyre, stylus and writing tablets and dedicated them in the temple of the Muses.⁶¹ And still again the victory of the younger Euripides with three of his plays is further evidence to the same effect.

But the fame of Euripides did not come to an end with his death. On the contrary it continued to grow until it even surpassed that of his two great predecessors. Signs of this are numerous; so that when Aristophanes in the Frogs puts into the mouth of Aeschylus the familiar joke that his contest with Euripides in Hades for the tragic throne was not fair because the latter's poetry had died with him, he is very far from the truth.

In fact the influence of Euripides upon all classes of men in the generations after his death was profound. When, as tragedy waned and it became the custom at Athens to reproduce an old play along with the new ones, the play selected was often a tragedy of Euripides. It is known, for example, that for three years in succession, 342/1 to 340/39 B.C., a play of Euripides was chosen for this purpose.⁶² Poets in other fields than tragedy looked to him as a model. Thus we can trace his influence on the great master of the New Comedy, Menander. Orators, too, and philosophers were under obligations to him, and, as Haigh points out⁶³ he is more often quoted by Plato and Aristotle than any other tragic poet. Alexander the Great often quoted from him and at his last dinner is said to have recited a scene from the Andromeda.⁶⁴

The fragments of the lost plays of Euripides handed down to us through quotations in the literature are more numerous than those of Aeschylus and Sophocles;⁶⁵ and this number has been greatly augmented by papyrus fragments found in Egypt in recent years. Only one papyrus fragment of Aeschylus of any length has so far been identified.⁶⁶ Of Sophocles we have considerable portions of the satyr drama, the Ichneutae, and pieces of five old plays and four new ones, while of Euripides we have portions of ten lost plays and eleven extant plays. These numbers tell their own story. They probably represent the relative popularity of the three great tragic poets in late Greek times.

The enthusiastic admiration for Euripides on the part of some of his followers, although good evidence of his fame, was sometimes carried to extremes and led to absurd situations. Thus Lucian⁶⁷ tells a story about the people of Abdera, who became so excited over a performance of the Andromeda that they went about the streets declaiming passages from that play. This may well be an exaggeration; but the anecdote, nevertheless, has significance. There is other evidence, too, pointing in the same direction. Thus Axionicus, a poet of the Middle Comedy, is known to have written a play called …, "The Man Who was Fond of Euripides";⁶⁸ and Pollux⁶⁹ quotes from still another comedy with the same title by a certain Philippides. Such plays could never have been written if the admirers of Euripides had not made themselves ridiculous by their too great enthusiasm. The object of a successful comic poet is to produce jokes which are to the point and readily understood by his audience. He must be up to date. These titles, therefore, are also an indication of a widespread knowledge of Euripides at the time the plays were produced.

With the spread of Greek culture the fame of Euripides increased. How far this extended is shown, for example, by a gruesome incident at the court of the Parthian king Hyrodes, related by Plutarch.⁷⁰ When the head of the slain Roman general Crassus was brought to the king a tragic actor recited the passage in the Bacchae where Agave appears with the head of her son. But his influence extended beyond the confines of distant Parthia. It has even been suggested that his plays were carried to India and became the source of the Sanscrit drama⁷¹ but Sanscrit scholars claim that this had a purely Indian origin.

How great an influence he exerted on the Roman tragic stage is apparent from the tragedies of Seneca, as well as from the fragments of the lost plays of the earlier writers of tragedy. But his influence did not stop there. Poets in other fields were deeply indebted to him, and not least among the number Virgil and Ovid. So, too, in modern times many a tragedy has been inspired by him directly or indirectly.

The fame of Euripides is also shown by his influence upon the workers in the minor arts, the carvers of sarcophagi, the painters of vases, the makers of mirrors, and the like. He frequently gave a definite form to the old Greek myths, so that scenes from his dramas furnished these people with innumerable subjects for their drawings or carvings, subjects which were interesting in themselves and which would be readily recognized by everybody.⁷² One small class of objects is especially interesting in this connection. It is a series of cups dating from Alexandrian times having in the bottom in relief a portrait of Euripides, and on the sides scenes from his plays. Three are known with scenes from the Iphigenia at Aulis inscribed Eὐριπίδον Ἰφιγενείᾷς, and two others, besides a fragment, have scenes from the Phoenissae.⁷³ Still another may go back to his Oedipus.⁷⁴ How common this class of objects was can only be conjectured; but the number of sarcophagi, vase paintings and other works of art which can be traced back to his plays is very great.

CHARACTERISTICS OF THE TRAGEDY OF EURIPIDES

THE TECHNIQUE OF HIS DRAMA

In the history of the drama it is a well-recognized fact that there is always a continuous development either for the better or the worse. The drama as a literary type does not stand still. So every dramatist is likely to invent or develop in his plays certain features which he believes in one way or another will add to the effectiveness of their presentation. Euripides was no exception to this rule. He introduced various innovations into Greek tragedy as he found it, some of which he made regular features of his plays so that they became recognized as characteristic of his work. In the present chapter we shall examine these innovations and try to see to what extent they were justified in the opinion of the people of his time and of subsequent ages.

THE PROLOGUES

From the point of view of construction the most obvious characteristic of the tragedies of Euripides is the prologue. This is especially noticeable to readers who are familiar with the works of Aeschylus and Sophocles, where the drama usually begins in a different way. What Euripides did was to introduce at the beginning some character, who either might or might not have a part in the subsequent action, to tell the audience what it ought to know at the outset. Thus in the Andromache Andromache, the chief personage in the play, speaks the prologue; while in the Hippolytus the prologue is spoken by Aphrodite who does not appear again on the stage.⁷⁵ It was the object of the prologue to explain in some detail who the chief characters were, how they had got into the situation in which they found themselves at the beginning of the play, and where the scene was laid. For example Andromache, who is represented as talking to herself, explains in the prologue of the tragedy which bears her name that her home had been at Thebe in the Troad, that she had married Hector and gone to live in Troy the envied of all, but that now she was the most unhappy of women. She had seen her husband slain, and her little boy, Astyanax, murdered by being cast from the city walls; and she had herself been given as a slave to the son of the man who slew her husband. She is living in his house in Pharsalus and has borne him a son. But now he has married Hermione, daughter of Menelaus, who has been treating her very cruelly and is at that very moment seeking to bring about her death, while the husband, Neoptolemus, is away on a journey to Delphi. Andromache has hidden her child by Neoptolemus and has fled for safety to the shrine of Thetis. Here, then, we have a complete statement of the situation, and this is typical of the opening scene in the tragedies of Euripides. Such prologues are found in all the extant plays except the Rhesus and the Iphigenia at Aulis. But the Rhesus has lost its prologue, as will be shown in the discussion of that play; and the Iphigenia at Aulis, which was evidently worked over by the younger Euripides when he brought it out after his father's death, really has two prologues.

The prologues of Euripides vary in length from twenty-seven lines in the Alcestis and forty-eight lines in the Medea, which are early plays, to seventy lines in the Orestes and eighty-seven lines in the Phoenissae, which are later plays. At the same time we must remember that the Hippolytus, which can be dated in 428 B.C. has a prologue of fifty-seven lines, and the Troades, dated in 415 B.C. has a prologue of forty-seven lines. The length of the prologue, therefore, is not necessarily an indication of date.

As a rule the prologue is followed by a dialogue. This is the case in eleven of the extant plays,⁷⁶ and the transition is often managed with great skill, as, for example, in the Medea. In four plays it is followed by lyrics;⁷⁷ in one, the Hippolytus, by a short lyric dialogue; and in one, the Hecuba, by an anapaestic passage. The prologues are never delivered by a character wholly disconnected with the plot; for where the speaker takes no further part in the action, he is usually a god deeply interested in the outcome, such as Apollo in the Alcestis, Dionysus in the Bacchae, Hermes in the Ion, Aphrodite in the Hippolytus, and Poseidon in the Troades.

It is not difficult to see what purpose Euripides had in mind in beginning his tragedies as he does. It is very clear that this purpose was practical. There were no playbills in the Athenian theatre, and, although the audience had a general acquaintance with the myths which formed the subject of most of the plays,⁷⁸ they did not know what part of the story was to be treated, or what new features the poet might introduce. In the Acharnians of Aristophanes (line 11) we find the Herald proclaiming "Bring in your chorus, Theognis." If no further introduction than this served to announce a tragedy, the audience unless otherwise informed would be in ignorance of just what the situation was for some time after the play had begun. A prologue would thus become almost a necessity. It was, in fact, a practical device for overcoming a difficulty in the presentation of a play, and Euripides was above all things a practical dramatist, as will be abundantly shown later. It served so useful a purpose that even if the poet thought that it might be regarded as a technical defect by readers (and that is very doubtful) he knew that it would not appear so to the spectators when the play was on the stage. In actual practice the Euripidean prologue must have been welcomed by the ancient audience, and looked upon by them as a distinct improvement.

Some evidence for this is to be found in the first scene of the Trachiniae. All of the other extant tragedies of Sophocles begin with a dialogue, so that we are at once in the midst of the action; but in the Trachiniae we have a prologue quite in the Euripidean manner. This prologue consists of forty-eight lines and is ostensibly addressed by Deianeira to the Nurse. In reality it tells the audience all the facts which it should know when the play opens, just as a prologue of Euripides does. Unfortunately the date of the Trachiniae is not known and different opinions have been expressed in regard to it. It has, however, long been recognized that there were points of resemblance between the Trachiniae and the Heracles Furens of Euripides. Perhaps the most striking of these is the treatment of the Old Man introduced at line 974, where he plays a part similar to that of Amphitryon in the Heracles. In the latter play Amphitryon has an important part, and it is natural for him to be on the stage when Heracles recovers consciousness from the blow dealt him by Athena, after the slaying of his wife and children. The Old Man in the Trachiniae has not appeared before, and there is no particular reason for his introduction into the scene unless Sophocles is following Euripides and feels that he must have somebody to counterbalance Amphitryon. We cannot imagine Amphitryon as derived from the Old Man. Again the two plays resemble each other in the scene where the unconscious Heracles is brought on the stage and made to regain consciousness there.⁷⁹ It looks as if Sophocles were imitating Euripides in these scenes. That being the case, and the Trachiniae thus being the later play, there is every reason to believe that he is imitating Euripides in the prologue as well.⁸⁰ This he would not have done if he had not felt that the Euripidean prologue was a useful contribution to the drama.

The next point to consider is whether Euripides evolved the idea of his prologues independently, or got a suggestion for them from some other source. Some light may be thrown on this question if we examine the opening scenes in the tragedies of Aeschylus. Two of the extant plays, the Supplices and the Persians, begin with a long lyric passage; two others, the Seven against Thebes and the Prometheus Bound, begin with a dialogue; while the Agamemnon, presumably the Choephoroe, and the Eumenides begin with a soliloquy. The three plays last mentioned were brought out as a trilogy under the title of the Orestea in 458 B.C., two years before the author's death. In the third of them, the Eumenides, we find a prologue of sixty-three lines which bears considerable resemblance to the prologues of Euripides. The beginning of the Agamemnon is not so close, and the mutilated beginning of the Choephoroe does not permit any safe statement to be made in regard to it. Euripides brought out his first play in 455 B.C., three years after the Orestea appeared, so that there can be no question of precedence. It looks very much as if Aeschylus, who made so many valuable contributions to Greek tragedy, saw the advantages of explanatory prologues and introduced them in this trilogy, and that Euripides got the idea from him and developed it. But however this may be, it was Euripides who fully appreciated what a useful and practical device such a prologue was, and how welcome it would be to the spectator, and for that reason he adopted it and made it his own.

THE DEUS EX MACHINA

Another characteristic of the tragedy of Euripides, and one which has been criticized equally with his prologues, is his frequent use of the deus ex machina, that is the introduction of a god, or other character, on high by means of a mechanical contrivance. This device, technically known as the μηχᾷνή, enabled the dramatist to represent a figure in mid-air, or on the roof of a temple, or elsewhere. It was used in twelve of the extant plays of Euripides. Thus in the Andromache, Thetis was represented in this way; in the Bacchae, Dionysus; in the Electra, the Dioscuri; in the Helen, the Dioscuri; in the Heracles Furens, Iris and probably Lussa; in the Hippolytus, Artemis; in the Iphigenia among the Taurians, Athena; in the Ion, Athena; in the Medea, Medea at the end of the play; in the Orestes, Apollo; in the Rhesus, the Muse; and in the Suppliants, Athena. The gods were, however, not always so brought upon the stage. For example, Apollo in the Alcestis, Athena in the Rhesus, and Poseidon and Athena in the Troades seem to have entered, spoken their lines, and left the stage in the usual manner. The actual treatment of the various characters by the dramatist will be considered more fully in the discussion of the separate plays; but it is necessary to point out here that the deus ex machina is not always used by Euripides in the same way.

It is commonly assumed by adverse critics that the device was resorted to by the dramatist in order to get himself out of difficulties into which the development of his plot had led him. This, however, is not the case. There are but two of the extant plays, the Hippolytus and the Orestes, in which there are any grounds for such an assumption; and even in the Hippolytus it is not quite clear that the μηχᾷνή was used. Furthermore a careful examination of the plays shows that the poet, if he had wished to do so, might have avoided the use of the deus ex machina altogether by making a few changes which would not have injured his plots. The fact is that Euripides used it for dramatic effect. It has already been pointed out that he was distinctly a practical dramatist. He wrote his plays not for the reader, but for presentation before an audience in the theatre. The appearance of an Athena in shining armor above the roof of her temple, as in the Iphigenia among the Taurians, would be striking. In fact, in my opinion, it was to produce these startling, theatrical effects that the poet resorted to the use of this device. He knew well enough how the spectators would receive it. They could not fail to be highly delighted; and the same effect has been produced by it in modern times in revivals of Greek dramas, as, for example, in the presentation of the Iphigenia among the Taurians in Philadelphia in 1903. This was sufficient justification for its use.

Aristotle in his Poetics⁸¹ recognizes the place of the deus ex machina in the drama as a convenient way of setting forth what has preceded, or what is to follow; but with Euripides it was more than that. It was the means of introducing a striking scene. If, therefore, its use is to be called a defect artistically, it can be considered so only when the play is read; for dramatically and scenically it fulfills a definite function and the poet is justified in employing it. There can be no question, I think, that it added greatly to the enjoyment of the theatre by the ancient audience.

The fact that we find this device so often used in the extant plays of Euripides should not mislead us into the belief that he was its inventor. That seems not to have been the case. It was apparently employed by Aeschylus for the entrance of Oceanus in the Prometheus Bound,⁸² though this has been questioned; and, perhaps, also for the entrance of Athena in the Eumenides.⁸³ Sophocles used it in the Philoctetes,⁸⁴ which, however, is a late play. If a greater number of tragedies by these two masters had survived we should be able to speak with more assurance. From the evidence which we have it would appear that the deus ex machina had existed before the time of Euripides, but that he seized upon it as a useful device and, as in the case of the prologue, made it his own.

THE ECCYCLEMA AND OTHER STAGE DEVICES

Euripides seems to have been ready to use any stage device which might contribute to the most effective presentation of his dramas. He does not seem to have made much use of the eccyclema …, that platform upon wheels which might be pushed out from the stage buildings to show an interior scene.⁸⁵ Aeschylus used it in the Agamemnon (1379 ff.) to show Clytaemnestra and the bodies of the murdered Agamemnon and Cassandra; and again in the Choephoroe (973 ff.) to show the dead bodies of Clytaemnestra and Aegisthus. Sophocles, too, used it in three of his extant plays, the Ajax (346 ff.), the Antigone (1293 ff.) and the Electra (1458 ff.). Euripides uses it but four times in the nineteen extant plays: in the Hippolytus (808 ff.) to show the body of Phaedra; in the Hecuba (1051 ff.) to show the bodies of the sons of Polymestor; in the Heracles Furens (1029 ff.) to show the dead Megara and her children; and in the Electra (1177 ff.) to bring in the bodies of Clytaemnestra and Aegisthus.⁸⁶

The eccyclema was at best a clumsy contrivance, and, although sometimes effective, was inartistic. Euripides seems to have felt this, for sometimes where it might have been used, and probably would have been by an earlier dramatist, he employed another device. Thus he used the μηςᾷνή to show Medea with the bodies of her children (Medea, 1317 ff.); and likewise to show the Muse in the Rhesus (890 ff.) with the body of her son. As a practical dramatist he evidently realized how much more striking such a presentation would make the scene in the theatre. It is another proof of what may be called his dramatic instinct.

No doubt Euripides used such other stage devices as were available when he had need of them. Thus at the beginning of the Hecuba the ghost of Polydorus speaks the prologue, promptly proclaiming that he comes from the realms of the dead.⁸⁷ He probably appeared before the spectators rising from the ground. In the theatre at Eretria there is still preserved an underground passage leading from the stage buildings into the orchestra, apparently designed for this very purpose. No such passage has, to be sure, been proved for the theatre at Athens in the time of Euripides; but that does not necessarily mean that one did not exist, or that a temporary device to serve the same purpose might not have been constructed. No other ghost is introduced in any extant play of Euripides, but it is possible that Thanatos in the Alcestis may have entered by this means. The supernatural and miraculous elements in his tragedy are usually made to lie outside the action of the drama and revealed to the spectators only through narration. Such, for example, is the story of the phantom Helen in the Helen; the bull rising from the sea in the Hippolytus; and lolaus regaining his youth for a day in the Heraclidae. Lussa in the Heracles Furens is a supernatural personage, but she seems to have been brought in by means of the μνϰᾷνή. In general we may say that if we exclude the gods the supernatural element does not play a very important part in the tragedy of Euripides.

SCENERY, COSTUMING, ETC.

Euripides, too, seems to have made much more extensive use of scenery than his predecessors. There are various indications of this in his plays, and many places where the stage setting might be made very effective. Such is the Egyptian landscape in the Helen, and, again, the temple at Delphi with its works of art in the Ion, to give but two examples. We must not, of course, imagine Euripides with the facilities of a modern theatre, but he was not the kind of dramatist to be content with a primitive, or inartistic presentation of his tragedies. Occasionally we get a hint of this outside the drama as, for example, when the scholiast on the Phoenissae records the beauty of the stage setting in that play.⁸⁸

In keeping with this use of more elaborate scenery we should expect to find greater attention given to the costuming. To what extent this was the case is very difficult to determine. The costume of the tragic actor had been developed largely by Aeschylus and had become conventional.⁸⁹ From what we know of Euripides we should expect him to introduce changes in it with a view to making his tragedy more realistic; but there is little direct evidence that he did so other than that which we gather from the hints of Aristophanes.⁹⁰ Some of his scenes, such as the latter part of the Orestes, would be difficult to act in the conventional tragic garments; but in the absence of more specific evidence nothing more definite can be said on this topic.

Supernumeraries are an essential feature of all dramatic performances and that was as true in antiquity as it is today. It is not surprising, therefore, to find that Euripides made frequent use of these silent characters, especially children; and occasionally he even introduced animals upon the stage. Thus in the Helen (1169) the king, Theoclymenus, enters with attendants accompanied by a pack of hunting dogs; and in the Hippolytus (58) a pack of hounds evidently accompanies the companions of Hippolytus when they enter coming from their hunt. Again in the Troades (577) Andromache is brought in on a wagon … drawn by horses; and in the Electra (998) Clytaemnestra enters in a chariot followed by her Trojan attendants in a wagon (998 ff.). Euripides was not alone in this use of animals on the stage. Thus Aeschylus in the Agamemnon makes the great king enter in a chariot; and in the Oedipus at Colonus of Sophocles Ismene enters on horseback. It was an effective way of bringing an important character before the audience.

Euripides made such frequent and such important use of children as silent characters in his plays that that aspect of his tragedy calls for more than a passing notice. It will, therefore, be considered at greater length in the next chapter.

DRAMATIC TYPES

The treatment of the individual characters of Euripides will be taken up in the discussion of the separate plays, but there are certain types introduced in minor rôles which are characteristic of his tragedy. Most important of these is the messenger. The bringing in of a character to explain what had been taking place at a distance was a well-known device on the Greek stage. It did not originate with Euripides, but was employed by both Aeschylus and Sophocles, and no doubt by less important dramatists. With Euripides the part of the messenger was made much more important than it had been previously. What before had been a minor rôle was developed and made to include a long and brilliant speech which a good actor could make most effective. So important did Euripides regard the part of the messenger that he made it a regular feature of his tragedies and introduced it in all that are extant except the Alcestis, the Hecuba and the Troades. Sometimes he is not content with one messenger, but employs two in different scenes, as, for example, in the Helen and the Iphigenia at Aulis, but only one of them has a long speech. In the Iphigenia among the Taurians the long narrative of the herdsman early in the play (lines 260-339) is in reality a messenger's speech, though another messenger is brought in later on (lines 1327-1419). These speeches vary in length in the different plays from thirty-three lines in the Rhesus to 110 lines in the Phoenissae and the Bacchae. Eighty or ninety lines was about the usual length. They are composed with great skill and are always full of dramatic interest. As will be shown in the discussion of the separate plays they contributed much to the effective presentation of his tragedies.

Another type which Euripides took pleasure in depicting among his minor characters was the faithful slave. This might be a man or a woman, but was portrayed as a model of devotion. An example is Phaedra's nurse in the Hippolytus. Her one object is to gratify her mistress and, when she learns her secret, to save her mistress regardless of what might happen to herself. Or again in the Ion, where the aged servant of Creusa, this time a man, is ready to risk his life for the peace of mind of his mistress.

THE CHORUS

The treatment of the chorus by Euripides has been carefully considered by various writers on Greek tragedy and does not call for an extended examination here,⁹¹ though sometimes erroneous statements in regard to it have been made. A complete study of it would require a volume in itself. It was a convention which Euripides found already established when he began to write and to which he had to adapt his plots. It was an inheritance from the past of what had once been the most important element in the drama. We do not find in his plays such long choral passages as are usual in Aeschylus; but he never forgot that there must always be on the stage fifteen persons who were cognizant of everything which took place in the action. Euripides handles the chorus in different ways, but always with skill. The members of it were usually supposed to be friends or servants of the hero or heroine devoted to their interests. Sometimes their connection with the plot was intimate, as in the Bacchae or the Suppliants; then again it was less close, as in the Phoenissae or the Andromache. Sometimes one of the regular choral songs, or stasima, had little or no relation to the story, such as the third stasimon in the Iphigenia among the Taurians (lines 1234-1282), but this is unusual. In general the subject of the song was comment on the past, or speculation as to the future of one or more of the principal characters, or of the members of the chorus themselves.

In the actual manipulation of the chorus as an integral part of the play the poet always kept in mind its dramatic possibilities. Thus if he could make a scene more effective by subdividing the chorus, as for example in the Ion, lines 184 ff., he did so. Again, he did not hesitate to introduce occasionally a supplementary chorus for dramatic effect, such as the chorus of huntsmen in the Hippolytus (61 ff.), or the chorus of Argive men in the Iphigenia at Aulis (590 ff.). The composition and treatment of the chorus naturally varied with the individual play.

When we come to examine the language used in the choruses of Euripides we find that it stands in about the same relation to the language of the choruses of Aeschylus and Sophocles that his iambic trimeter lines, that is the lines of his dialogue, do to those of his two illustrious predecessors. That is to say it is simpler. Poetic words are found in abundance, but there are fewer really rare words, and the constructions as a rule are those of the dialogue. At the same time the choruses of Euripides contain much beautiful poetry. It is true that any one not knowing his tragedies at first hand and accepting as trustworthy the insinuations of Aristophanes might be misled in this respect; and this is something that has happened more than once. But a careful examination of his choral odes quickly shows that Euripides must be ranked high as a lyric poet. How effective the music was to which his choruses were sung we shall probably never know, though part of one choral song from the Orestes with the musical notes written above the words has been found in Egypt.⁹²

The composition of the plots of Euripides has sometimes been criticized. Thus he has been accused of introducing irrelevant scenes. A careful examination of the passages, however, usually shows that the scenes objected to are not irrelevant, and that the poet had a definite purpose in mind in writing them. On the other hand he has been praised since antiquity for the skill with which he manages his recognition scenes.⁹³ But questions such as these had best be considered in our examination of the individual plays.

THE CHILD MOTIVE—HUMOR

It is an interesting fact that of the titles of the eighteen tragedies of Euripides which have come down to modern times, counting the Rhesus as genuine, eight bear the names of women, five of men, one is named for a band of silent characters, and four for the chorus. In the last group (the Bacchae, the Phoenissae, the Suppliants and the Troades) the chorus consist of women; in the Heraclidae they are men. One might conclude from this that Euripides preferred the names of women as titles for his plays, for it has long been recognized that he saw that the emotions which are usually regarded as peculiarly feminine, such as jealousy, hate and love furnished excellent material for tragedy; but this is not borne out by the names of the lost plays. If one takes the list of sixty-seven tragedies which Wilamowitz-Moellendorf argued were still preserved in Alexandrian times, he will find that of the forty-nine which have since perished thirty-two bear the names of men and twelve the names of women. Five are named for the chorus and these in all but one case are feminine. In other words we find here just the reverse of what appears in the extant plays. The masculine titles predominate. But the fact that a play bears the name of a man rather than that of a woman does not necessarily mean that the male character in that play is the strongest. In the Hippolytus, for example, the real tragic character is Phaedra, not Hippolytus, and that too though she is on the stage but a short time. Hippolytus loses his life, to be sure, under tragic circumstances, but he is not what might be called a tragic hero. So, too, in the Ion Creusa is quite as important a character as Ion though neither of them can be called tragic. We cannot, therefore, be sure from the title alone who is to be the most important personage in the action. In other words our only safe guide is the extant plays and we are not justified in drawing conclusions in regard to plays that are lost.

One thing, however, seems clear: that great tragic characters are rare in Euripides and that where they do occur they are apt to be women rather than men. It is unfortunate that his Oedipus has not come down to us, for there is no character in his extant plays which can for a moment compare with Oedipus in the Oedipus Tyrannus of Sophocles; or, indeed, with the very different, though equally tragic Oedipus of the Oedipus at Colonus. The nearest approach to such a character in the extant tragedies is the Heracles in the Heracles Furens. But Heracles in this play does not dominate the action from the beginning as Oedipus does. In fact he does not appear at all until line 523 when he is introduced just in time to rescue his family from his enemy Lycus. The terrible tragedy which follows when Heracles becomes suddenly insane and kills his wife and children is related by a messenger; but he is himself brought on the stage again when he has recovered his sanity, a truly pathetic spectacle. Here, then, we have a real tragic figure, but he cannot be paralleled in the other extant plays of Euripides.

But if there is a scarcity of great tragic heroes in the extant dramas of Euripides the same cannot be said of his heroines. Several of them attain to true tragic heights. The most striking and terrible of all is Medea. She dominates the action in the play which bears her name from the beginning, even before she appears on the stage, and continues to do so through to the end. Jason is a poor, weak, intriguing creature, no match for the terrible and masterful woman to whom he is wedded. In the character of Medea, and particularly in the scene in which she decides to kill her children in order to be revenged upon her husband, the tragic genius of Euripides reaches its highest pinnacle.

In none of the other extant plays is there a character which can approach Medea as a tragic figure, and yet there are characters which are distinctly tragic. For example in the Bacchae Agave in her wild frenzy with the head of her son Pentheus whom she and her companions have slain in the belief that he was a wild beast is one of the most dreadful figures in Euripides. Her terrible deed has, however, been done in ignorance while she was in a Bacchic frenzy and so differs from the deliberate action of Medea. Phaedra, too, in the Hippolytus is tragic. The nurse discovers her secret, but by revealing it to Hippolytus she puts her mistress into a position of shame and disgrace from which she concludes that death is the only way out. Here the passion for revenge dominates her, and before she kills herself she writes the letter to Theseus falsely accusing the innocent Hippolytus and knowing that it will result in his ruin. Phaedra, then, is a real tragic figure.

But the fact is that the tragedy of Euripides does not depend for its effect upon one outstanding tragic character, part of whose life is set before the audience; but rather upon certain more or less tragic situations brought about in a variety of ways. Hecuba in the play of that name is tragic only in the misfortunes which come upon her. We pity the misery of the aged woman and resent the repeated blows which fate deals her; but we do not look upon her as a tragic character even when, at the end of the play, she brings about the ruin of the false Thracian king who had murdered her youngest boy, Polydorus, for his money. This whole play is an exhibition of mental distress which is almost too much for human endurance. Much the same thing is found in the Troades.⁹⁴ In both tragedies the poet no doubt depended upon the action and the stage setting for the effect produced on his audience.

Human misery, however, cannot interest any audience for long. There is nothing of which one gets weary so soon. Euripides must have been well aware of this, and it may have been for that reason that he conceived the plan of writing a tragedy in which the ending should be happy. This type of drama, which only by courtesy may be called tragedy, is his invention; and some of his most successful plays are of this kind. The Iphigenia among the Taurians, the Helen, the Ion and, perhaps, we might add, the Heraclidae and the Suppliants belong to this class. For the children of Heracles are saved and their enemy Eurystheus is brought in at the end a prisoner and condemned to death; while in the Suppliants the remains of the heroes who had been killed at Thebes are recovered and brought back. That is to say the object desired by the aged women who form the chorus is attained though it is a sad one. One other play should, perhaps, be added to this list, the Hypsipyle, for although we do not have a complete text of it enough was recovered at Oxyrhynchus in 1906 to make the plot clear.

Furthermore the tragedy of Euripides is not the tragedy of Fate. We do not find in his plays an inexorable decree destined to be carried out to the letter irrespective of the doings of the hero and dominating the action. We find that in Sophocles. In the Oedipus Tyrannus Oedipus is a noble character who without knowing it has committed two great crimes. These crimes he was destined to commit by a higher power which he had no means of resisting. They are what brought about his ruin. There is nothing of this sort in Euripides. The tragedy here depends upon a combination of circumstances which are entirely human. In the Bacchae, to be sure, we find a mortal man who refuses to accept the divinity of a newly proclaimed god and he meets with disaster. But Pentheus acts much as a citizen of Athens of the fifth century B.C. might be expected to act under similar circumstances. He resists a power in which he does not believe, and resents the fact that members of his own family are ready to acknowledge this new power as divine. The attitude of Pentheus may well be compared with that of the head of a family today who had learned that important members of his household had suddenly adopted some peculiar religious cult. Pentheus is a mortal resisting a god. His fate can be foreseen, but it is the natural outcome of his own acts. There is no decree of fate here determined long before and being carried out regardless of human actions.

What then is the object of the tragedy of Euripides? It has no single object but rather the object varies with the play. Now it is to excite pity in true Aristotelian fashion, and this, perhaps, may be said to be its dominant motive. We pity the unfortunate children of Heracles in the Heraclidae before we know what their fate will be. We pity the unfortunate old women who form the chorus in the Suppliants. We pity Andromache in the play which bears her name and are angry at Menelaus and his daughter. We pity the unfortunate Hecuba and the innocent Hippolytus. In fact there is hardly a play in which pity does not have an important place. But other emotions are also excited. In the Medea our feeling is one of horror when we find the sorceress burning the princess to death by means of her magic gifts and deliberately murdering her own children. Horror again overcomes us when we see the sufferings of the Trojan women in the Troades; and again it is horror which moves us when Agave in her Bacchic frenzy enters bearing the head of her unhappy son.

But pity and horror were not the only emotions which Euripides sought to inspire in his drama. Sometimes, as already pointed out, his motive was simply to excite interest. A good example of this type of play is the Iphigenia among the Taurians. Here the audience has its interest in Iphigenia aroused at the very beginning, and not merely in Iphigenia, but in Orestes as well. It knows that nothing dreadful is going to happen to either of them. It has no apprehension, but awaits with expectancy the development of events. The Helen is in many ways a similar play, but is not so well constructed and does not have so good a plot. The audience is, however, interested in the adventures of the heroine.

Still another type of play is that in which the poet wishes to excite our admiration. Of this the Alcestis is a good example. Here is shown a model wife who will even die that her husband may live. This motive is not usual for a whole play, but Euripides uses it several times for a single scene. Thus Macaria's deed of heroism in sacrificing herself for her brothers and sisters in the Heraclidae; or Iphigenia in the Iphigenia at Aulis going willingly to her death when she is convinced that she is really giving her life for her country, and knows that her death will make possible the sailing of the fleet.

One feature of the tragedy of Euripides which has often been misinterpreted is his custom of making his characters speak as he conceives such people would speak in Athens in his own time. This, I think, is closely connected with the simple, though polished language which he makes them use. His kings and queens talk as well-bred Athenians of the fifth century B.C. might talk, and they talk about the subjects which might be presumed to interest the same people. Thus, if they occasionally indulge in philosophical speculations, it is what might be expected. It is often said in regard to such passages that in them Euripides is setting forth his own ideas. That inference does not necessarily follow. He makes his heroes and heroines talk as he was accustomed to hear educated men and women talk. Whether or not the ideas set forth are his own is another question not to be determined from the words in the play.

The tragedy of Euripides, then, is seen to be tragedy with various motives. The plots develop in accordance with the circumstances which the incidents call forth. The interests are human interests, and they are not dominated by a preordained fate from which there is no escape.

THE CHILD MOTIVE

This being the case and the dominant note of his tragedy being that of pity, it is not surprising to find Euripides making frequent use of children in his dramas. Under the conventions of the Greek theatre which permitted not more than three speaking actors on the stage at one time it was usually not possible for him to give them even short speeches, unless, as in the Ion, the child was made one of the chief characters in the play. As a consequence he had to use them as silent characters. In the Alcestis, to be sure, we find the lyric lines 393-403 and 406-415 assigned to the little boy; in the Suppliants (1114-1164) the sons of the dead heroes take part in a lyric dialogue with the chorus; and in the Andromache Molossus takes part in a lyric lament with his mother (504-536). But these passages are exceptional. How effectually he made use of children has not generally been observed because we are familiar with the plays from reading them, not seeing them acted on the stage, and we usually fail to visualize the scenes. A careful examination of them, however, will show how often he depended on children to produce the effect he desired.

The fondness of the Greek for his children is well known. Thus when Heracles in the Heracles Furens (634-636) says:

Men love their children, both the better off
And those of no account; for some have
 wealth
And others have it not, but all the race
Has love for children,

he is repeating a familiar sentiment. The same idea is found in the Andromache (418 f.), where she says:

For every man his children are his soul.

Other passages might be quoted to the same effect. With this universal love of children among the Greeks recognized, it is easy to see that nothing could so arouse the sympathy of a Greek audience as the sight of a child suffering or in danger. Euripides fully appreciated this and he introduced children into no fewer than ten of his extant plays.

The best example of this employment of children to excite feelings of pity and fear in the minds of the spectators, as prescribed by Aristotle, is the Medea. This play will be discussed more fully later, but it will not be out of place to recall here the part of the children in it. They make their appearance for the first time with their aged attendant (the paidagogos) in line 46. The old man has heard that they are to be banished, but the nurse, with whom he talks, cannot believe that their father will permit such an outrage. The boys remain on the stage until line 105, though the nurse knowing the savage nature of their mother cautions them to keep out of her sight. She sees them, however, and is heard behind the scenes crying out (112 ff.)

Ye children accursed of a mother distressed,
May ye die with your sire and the house
 pass away.

Here we have the dominant thought in Medea's mind, to strike Jason through the annihilation of his family. Thus our sympathies are with the children from the first and the poet sees to it that the interest in them which has been aroused is maintained. So when Creon orders Medea to leave Corinth he tells her to take her boys with her (273), and her request for leniency is on the ground of pity for the children (344). Jason is willing that his boys should go into exile with their mother (461), and Medea reproaches him for it (513 ff.). He maintains that his marriage with the princess is for the advantage of both the children and their mother (550), that he will look out for them (562 and 620), and that the children born of the new union will by their royal birth be able to assist Medea's boys (563, 566, 596 f.). After Medea has obtained a place of refuge from Aegeus she sees how she may obtain her revenge through her boys. She will ask Jason to beg the king to let them remain in Corinth (780 f.), but really means to kill them herself (803). Jason is sent for and the children are called in (894 ff.) to beg their father to intercede for them. He declares that he has their interests at heart (914 ff.) and prays that they may grow up to overcome his enemies. Medea promises to send them with gifts to the new bride that their petition to the king to stay may more readily be granted (947 ff.). They take the gifts to the palace and soon return (1002 ff.) telling of the successful accomplishment of their errand. The chorus know that the death of the children cannot be averted (976 ff.). News is brought of the death of the princess, and Medea prepares to put her plan into effect. The screams of the children are heard within the house (1273 ff.). Jason comes in haste to save his boys from the infuriated Corinthians only to find them already slain by their mother (1309), who appears on high with their bodies in her chariot drawn by serpents.

From this outline of the play it can be seen how largely the plot is built about the children through whose death Medea obtains her revenge upon her husband. Our main interest is not with the worthless, self-seeking Jason, and we have little sympathy with the cruel and savage Medea; but we are deeply concerned with the fate of the children to whom the poet is constantly bringing us back. Thus, although they are silent characters, they become through the action of first importance in the drama.

Another play in which the child motive is prominent is the Heraclidae. Here the situation is somewhat different from that in the Medea, for it is not necessary to depend so much on the action to bring out the children's part. In fact that is suggested by the very title. At the opening of the play we find the children of Heracles, who have escaped from the cruelty of Eurystheus at Argos, sitting as suppliants at the shrine of Zeus at Marathon. lolaus and the sons are grouped about the altar in front of the temple, while their grandmother, Alcmena, and the daughters have taken refuge within the building. The boys are thus on the stage from the beginning, and there they remain during the whole play. They have no speaking part, but the conversation is largely concerned with them. The girls, following Athenian convention, are kept indoors, with the exception of Macaria who offers her life to save her brothers and sisters. The interest of the spectator in the first part of the play lies in the fate of the children, that is, whether the herald of Eurystheus with all his threats and bluster and show of power will prevail over Demophon and carry them back to Argos; and it reaches a climax in the noble self-sacrifice of Macaria. In the second half of the play the interest centres rather about the aged lolaus and the coming battle between the Athenians and Argives, and finally in the defeat and capture of Eurystheus. But we are not permitted to forget the children, who are still on the stage ready to enjoy their grandmother's triumph over their arch-enemy. Here, then, we find Euripides again employing children in order to make his appeal to the spectators and to hold their interest.

The child motive is used in a somewhat similar way in the Suppliants, the scene of which is laid at Eleusis. Here the mothers of the seven chiefs who made the disastrous expedition against Thebes beg Aethra to intercede for them with her son, Theseus, and persuade him to rescue their bodies which still lie unburied. Adrastus with a band of boys, sons of the dead heroes, accompanies the aged women. Theseus is at first disinclined to interfere, but at length assembles his army, marches to Thebes, recovers the bodies and returns with them. They are solemnly brought in closely covered and then removed to be burned. When this duty has been performed the boys enter bearing the urns which they are later to convey to Argos. Here the boys are on the stage at the very beginning of the play and they remain there, except for one scene (955-1113), until the end. Thus we find Adrastus on the stage at lines 513, 589, 734, 798, etc., and the boys are evidently with him. At 794, when the funeral procession is seen approaching, the boys no doubt manifest their grief as do the members of the chorus, and so have a part in the action; but there is no indication that they speak. At 954 they apparently leave the stage with Adrastus when the bodies of the heroes are removed, and they bring back the urns with the ashes. At 1123 we find them engaged in a lyric dialogue with the chorus.

Here, then, is a tragedy in which the poet has introduced a band of children, which, except for one short passage, has no part in the dialogue, and yet is on the stage during practically the whole play. They might have been omitted without serious injury to the plot. What was the poet's object? Partly, perhaps, spectacular, for in the stage setting the grouping of the children must have been effective; but more important than this was the fact that with the help of the boys he could make his appeal to the audience more vividly. In other words these fatherless children had a definite part in the action and assisted materially in arousing feelings of compassion in the minds of the spectators. The presence of the boys, therefore, is justified dramatically.

Another tragedy in which the child motive is made the principal theme is the Heracles Furens. Here, as in the Medea, our interests are wrapped up in the fate of certain children. At the beginning of the play we find Lycus, the new king of Thebes who supposes Heracles to be dead, determined to kill his children for fear they may avenge the death of their grandfather Creon (lines 166 ff.; 547). Their mother, Megara, who enters with them (98 and 336) describes their anxiety during the long absence of their father in the Lower World, and from this point on their unfortunate position is constantly kept before the audience (e.g. lines 249, 262, 291, 329, etc.). The chorus is not slow to express its indignation at the state of affairs. Lycus at length permits the mother and children to enter their house so that she may clothe them in garments suitable for the dead (332 ff.). At line 442 they are again seen approaching and they enter at 451. In the long speech that follows Megara laments the fate in store for them and tells of the plans which Heracles had made for their future. Both Megara and Amphitryon are in despair and can see nothing but death before them when Heracles himself suddenly enters (514). The children now dressed as if for burial with wreaths on their heads run to him and cling to his garments. Heracles, who is naturally perplexed, tells them to throw off their wreaths and go home, but they cling to him more desperately than ever. And here we have put into the mouth of the hero the words already quoted, that everybody loves children, no matter what his position in society. Then, in keeping with the spirit of his words, he picks them all up in his arms and carries them into the house. When Lycus comes to seize them he is quickly despatched.

From this analysis of the first half of the play it is clear that the poet's object is to arouse the interest and pity of the audience in the tragic situation of the children, which is at length relieved by the unexpected return of their father. The real tragedy then follows; but it is the fate of the children in which we are still interested. Heracles becomes temporarily insane, and while in that condition kills the children and their mother. This, of course, is supposed to take place off the stage, but a messenger enters with details of the dreadful slaughter (922 ff.). The interior of the house is now shown by means of the eccyclema with the dead bodies lying where they fell. Heracles recovers his senses and is overcome with horror and remorse at his dreadful deed. He gives orders for their burial and bidding them a touching farewell he leaves the stage.

During the second part of the play the spectators are deeply moved by a feeling of pity for the strong man who has been forced by a power mightier than himself to commit a great crime against those who are dearest to him; but they are also moved by the tragic fate of the children, rescued from a cruel tyrant only to die by their father's hand. The child motive is thus seen to be a dominant motive in the play.

In the Ion the situation is somewhat different. There it is one child, not several, in whom we are interested, and he is a speaking, not a silent, character. Ion is represented as a boy of twelve or fourteen years of age, and he not only gives his name to the play, but the whole plot is constructed about him. From the very beginning our attention is fixed upon him and his fortunes. This play, however, and his part in it will be discussed more fully later, and call for no further notice here.

In the five tragedies just discussed the child motive is the important one in the play. In five others a child or children are introduced effectively in one or more scenes. These plays are the Troades, the Andromache, the Hecuba, the Alcestis and the Iphigenia at Aulis. The first part of the Troades has to do with the misfortunes of the Trojan women after the fall of Troy; but at line 577 Andromache, now a captive, is brought in riding on a cart with her little boy Astyanax. He remains on the stage with his mother and grandmother until line 789 when he is torn away from Hecuba's arms and carried off by the Greeks to be hurled to his death from the walls of Troy. Though no words are spoken by the child the whole scene in which Andromache, Hecuba, Talthybius and Astyanax have a part is very tragic and most powerful dramatically. Our sympathy for the boy is deeply touched. In line 1118 his dead body is brought in and given to Hecuba for burial. There is a long lament over it by Hecuba and the chorus, until it is finally carried out at line 1250. This scene is very effective on the stage as has been proved by the presentation of the play in English in recent years, and it is made so by the action. In fact the real interest of the spectator from the moment of his entrance centres about Astyanax and his unhappy fate. Hecuba, who was the principal character in the first part of the play, becomes of secondary interest.

In the Andromache once again Euripides introduces a child, but this time as an auxiliary to his principal theme. Andromache, now the slave of Neoptolemus, has borne her master a son, Molossus, while his wife, Hermione, is without offspring. Hermione detests Andromache and has only refrained from injuring her out of fear of her husband. But now Neoptolemus has gone to Delphi and Menelaus, father of Hermione, has arrived at Pharsalus to assist his daughter. Andromache realizes that she is in great danger and takes refuge at a shrine of Thetis, having first hidden her little son. Menelaus, however, succeeds in finding the boy and by threatening to kill him forces Andromache to leave her sanctuary. When he has got her into his power he declares that Hermione shall pronounce judgment upon them both, and we discover later that this judgment is death; but the aged Peleus arrives in time and rescues them, while the guilty Hermione flees from the country with Orestes, a former suitor. Molossus is on the stage from lines 309 to 765; and in lines 504 to 536 takes part with his mother in a lament to try to move Menelaus. The attention of the spectators is directed to the tragic situation of the mother and child, and pity is aroused for them both; but the presence of the little boy makes the human interest much keener than it otherwise would have been.

Even more important from a dramatic standpoint are the children in the Alcestis. In line 189 ff., before the entrance of Alcestis, we are told how her children, knowing that they are going to lose her, cling to her dress, and how she takes them in her arms one at a time and comforts them; that her thoughts are always of them and their future, and that she prays to Hestia⁹⁵ to give them a happy life, a loving wife to her son and a noble husband to her daughter. They are both on the stage with their mother at line 270. She bids them goodbye, and at line 375 gives them into the hands of Admetus who promises to be a mother as well as father to them. From line 371 to 392 the farewell of Alcestis is quite as much concerned with her children as with her husband, and when she actually dies the little son is overcome with grief (lines 393-415). The poet's knowledge of child nature is admirably shown in this short speech, for example in the boy's use of the pet-name … for his mother, and the word … ("Birdie") which he applies to himself, evidently a term of endearment by which she liked to address him. The little girl, though on the stage, is younger and does not speak. The latter part of the play is concerned with Heracles and the rescue of Alcestis, and consequently there is no call for the presence of the children; but by bringing them in in the earlier part the poet shows his knowledge of human nature and his skill as a dramatist. They add greatly to the interest of the audience both in the scene in which they appear and in the subsequent development of the plot.

In the Hecuba, too, children are introduced for tragic effect. I do not refer to Polydorus and Polyxena, who are grown children, but at the end of the play when Hecuba determines to be revenged upon the treacherous king Polymestor, she invites him to come to her hut with his young sons to hear certain secret information which she has to impart. At line 953 Polymestor enters accompanied by his boys. He is inveigled indoors where he is blinded and his sons killed. They were apparently small enough to be passed along from hand to hand (line 1157), a fact which increases the horror of the situation. The spectators might not be particularly distressed at the punishment of Polymestor, which they would no doubt feel was well deserved; but by including the children the poet has added another tragic element which was sure to move his audience.

Once more, in the Iphigenia at Aulis, Euripides brings a child upon the stage. In the tragic scene in which Iphigenia begs her father to spare her life we find Orestes, who is little more than a baby, playing a part. At line 1119 Clytaemnestra tells Iphigenia to come out of the house and to bring Orestes with her. He is with her on the stage during the following scene (see line 1165) and at line 1241 Iphigenia holds him up and begs him to intercede with Agamemnon for her. She declares that he does SO,⁹⁶ and thus, by his presence, adds to the touching character of the scene.

The fact that children play so important a part in these ten tragedies is significant for the proper understanding of the drama of Euripides. There are indications that the extant plays are not exceptional in this respect, but that he also made frequent use of them in the plays which have not survived. In addition they are often referred to even in plays where mention of them might not be expected. In other words, as a true student of human nature Euripides recognized the possibilities of the child on the stage. His dramatic instinct saw clearly that an appeal made through children would go straight to the hearts of the spectators. It is not surprising, therefore, to find the child motive occupying so conspicuous a place in his tragedy.

HUMOR

In considering the work of a tragic poet one might, perhaps, take it for granted that there would be little or no place in it for humor, but such is not the case with Euripides. The very nature of his compositions, if we except the satyr drama, excludes anything which can in any way be called comic; but failure to see that he had a sense of humor, and that he did not hesitate to resort to it whenever by means of it he could produce a desired effect, is failure to appreciate his genius as a dramatist. We are familiar with the way in which Shakespeare sometimes introduces a clown, or a jester, or a porter to relieve a tense situation. Such characters are not to be found in Euripides, and yet he does produce a somewhat similar result, though in a more subtle way.

Speaking generally there are two methods by which Euripides introduces a humorous element into his tragedies, one by bringing in an aged person who unconsciously makes himself ridiculous; the other by the skilful use of the so-called double entendre, that is, where the words used convey one meaning to the character addressed, and a very different meaning to the audience who are in the secret. In the latter case the dullness of the unpopular character, if he may be so called, is often emphasized to the amusement of the spectators. An out-and-out comic character would be out of place in the tragedy of Euripides for the very good reason that the poet never aims to produce a hearty laugh on the part of the audience, but merely an amused smile. This does not hold true of the satyr drama, as a perusal of the Cyclops quickly shows.

It may, perhaps, be objected that there are characters in Euripides which cannot be called tragic, such, for example, as Heracles and Thanatos in the Alcestis. But it must be remembered that tradition says that this play took the place of a satyr drama, and that, although Heracles is peculiarly a character of the comic stage, he is not comic here. What the poet is aiming at is to create an amused interest in the doings of the big man of antiquity and to show his good nature, not to make his audience laugh. Moreover Thanatos is not ridiculous, but rather horrible or disgusting. At the same time we have in the last scene of the Alcestis an example of the subtle humor of Euripides. The audience knows that the veiled woman is the queen, and poet and audience alike enjoy the little trick played upon Admetus, who, even when he sees her face, can scarcely believe that Alcestis has been restored to him. Various instances may be pointed out in the tragedies of Euripides where he introduces an aged character whose earnestness and desire to do more than his strength permits amuses the spectators. For example in the Heraclidae (11. 646 ff.) the aged Alcmena is called out of the house to hear the report of a messenger. She does not understand the purport of his message and thinks it means that the children of Heracles are to be carried off, and, old and weak as she is, she vows that as long as she lives she will not let her son's children be taken away by their enemy. Anybody who attempts it will have to fight with her and with lolaus, too. This sudden exhibition of spirit by the aged mother of Heracles would certainly occasion a smile which would be augmented when lolaus, now an old man, declares his intention of taking part in the coming battle (11. 680 ff.). The messenger tries to dissuade him on the ground that he has the will, but not the strength to fight …, but he determines to make use of some armor which he knows to be in the temple of Heracles. The two at length set out with the slave carrying the armor, though he pertinently asks whether he must play the part of child's bodyguard to a soldier (1. 729 …). The old man urges him on, though it is his own slowness which is keeping them back …, but lolaus thinks only of his own efforts. The will is father to the thought.… The earnestness of the old man and his efforts to move faster than his age permits would certainly cause amusement. The humor, of course, lies in the action, rather than in the words. The fact that later on we are told that a miracle has occurred and that lolaus recovered his youth for a day does not alter the situation.

Not unlike this is the passage in the Ion where Creusa in company with her aged servant starts for the temple (11. 739 ff.). Again it is the strength which is lacking though the will is there. And here, too, as in the Heraclidae, the humor lies in the action, not the words. It might be added here that in this play there is also a bit of humor in the account of the old slave who arranged the drinking bowls (11. 1178 f.).

Somewhat similar is a scene in the Electra (11. 558 ff.) where the old slave circling around the disguised Orestes and staring at him and finally penetrating his disguise amuses the audience by his action. Here the further purpose of identifying Orestes and making him known to his sister is brought about, but the method which the poet takes to do this shows that he realizes that a touch of humor at this point is natural and would delight the spectators.

In the Bacchae we find a situation which is humorous and tragic at the same time. King Pentheus unable to suppress the Bacchants resolves to go to the mountains and behold them in the midst of their revels. Dionysus (11. 821 ff.) proposes to disguise him as a woman so that he may not be detected. Pentheus at first objects …, 1. 836), but eventually yields and consents to the disguise. This, however, can be brought about only by the temporary derangement of the king, which is effected by Dionysus. The poet makes this clear when Pentheus comes out of the house in woman's attire and declares that he sees two suns and two cities of Thebes. The scene is inexpressibly tragic, and yet the mad Pentheus must have been a ludicrous figure in his woman's dress, thinking that he could be mistaken for Ino or Agave (1. 925). The audience could hardly repress a smile as Dionysus offers to fix a stray lock of his hair or to adjust his dress. So, just as the aged lolaus in the Heraclidae and the old slave in the Ion are not conscious that their actions make them ridiculous, the mad Pentheus has no perception of the absurdity either of his appearance or of his conduct.

A somewhat different manifestation of humor in the tragedies of Euripides occurs in those passages already alluded to where an unpopular character deceives himself by misunderstanding words which are capable of two interpretations. A good example of this is to be found in the Iphigenia among the Taurians 11. 1197 ff. In that line Iphigenia who has been explaining that the prisoners need purifying, says "I need a deserted place, for I shall do other things".… The barbarian king thinks that she refers to the performance of other mysterious rites, whereas the audience knows that she is hinting at her attempted escape from the country. Again in line 1221 when she prays that the "purification" may turn out as she wishes, the king to the amusement of the audience declares that he prays for the same thing. A little later (11. 1231 ff.) when Iphigenia says that if she sacrifices where she ought the goddess will have a pure house, etc., she is again speaking with a double meaning.

Other examples of this same device might be pointed out. Thus in the Helen, 1. 1201, Helen referring to the disguised Menelaus says "May he go where I want him to" …, words which the king misunderstands. So, too, lines 1205, 1287 and especially 1294-1300 have a very definite meaning to Helen and Menelaus whom Theoclymenus supposes to be a shipwrecked sailor, while they mean little or nothing to the king. Later on, when the plan for escape has been completed, Helen says to Theoclymenus (11. 1405 ff.),

And may the gods now grant thee what I
 wish,
And that this stranger join us in these rites.
And thou shalt have me such a wife as
 thou
Shouldst have within thy house; since both
 to me
And Menelaus thou dost prove a friend.

The irony of her words is lost upon the king, who readily gives the ship upon which Helen and Menelaus are to escape. The double meaning is continued in lines 1418 and 1420 to the eventual discomfort of the king and the amusement of the audience.

It would be a mistake, however, to imagine that Euripides always used this motive with a humorous turn. Several passages might be cited where the poet employs it in which the tragic situations very effectually prove that there was no place for humor. For example, in the Iphigenia at Aulis (1. 669) Agamemnon tells his daughter that she is to make a journey alone apart from father or mother, referring to her coming death …; and again (line 673) hints at the terrible sacrifice which he is about to make.… Something of the same kind occurs in the Medea. In line 1016 she hints at the terrible crimes which she is about to commit in language which might be misunderstood …, and in the famous speech to her children (11. 1021 ff.) her words frequently mean one thing where they appear to mean another. These and various other passages which might be quoted make it clear that the use of words susceptible of a double meaning did not necessarily imply humor. It was a device sometimes used by Euripides to bring a smile to the faces of the spectators, but it was also used by him for other purposes where any suggestion of humor would be entirely out of place.

Passing from tragedy to the satyr drama we find conditions very different. Here the poet's chief object is to cause a laugh and he does it partly by the situations which he creates, partly by the language, and partly by the costuming. In the Cyclops Silenus is distinctly a comic character, and so is the Cyclops. Both must have been grotesquely costumed, for Euripides was always keenly alive to the possibilities of the stage setting. The language of Silenus is in keeping with his part. Thus his comment when Odysseus tells him who he is, that he knows a thorough scoundrel by that name (1. 104, …) is a bit of repartee worthy of Aristophanes. So, too, line 265 where we find him swearing by the fishes. His antics when he sees the wine (11. 153 ff.) and his efforts to get a taste from the bowl of the Cyclops (11. 545 ff.) must have been very absurd. Add to this the caperings of the chorus of satyrs and the blind Polyphemus at the end of the play bumping his head against the rocks of his cave in his vain efforts to follow the advice of the chorus and catch the elusive "Noman" and we have situations which would be funny on any stage.

The Cyclops, then, as was to be expected shows a sense of humor, but of a simpler and bolder type than was possible in tragedy. Its analogies are to be sought in the unrestrained fields of the Old Comedy.

Notes

¹ It is found complete in B (Vaticanus 1345), E (Havniensis 3549), F (Vindobonensis 119) and G (Urbinas 140). A (Ambrosianus L 39) has lines 1-44; C (Palatinus 98) has lines 1-4, 9-12 and 29-42; D (Parisinus S. Genovevae 36) lacks lines 1-17; H (Vallicellanus A 25) has lines 1-5 and 71-83. E has also a brief account prefixed to the longer Life, and this same short life is found in Venetus 515 and Vaticanus 1363.

² The work is referred to, but the title not given, in Suidas, s. v.… and in Gellius, Noctes Atticae, XV, 20, 5, as well as in the Life. In the scholia to the Hecuba, I. 3 there is reference to a treatise by him.…

³ See Hunt, Ox. Pap. IX, p. 126.

⁴ Plut. Mor. p. 717C.… Also Suidas, s. v.…, and Hesychius Illustris, F. H. G. IV, p. 163. The year is also given in the Vita, 11. 2-4 and by Diogenes Laertius, II, 45. The day of the battle was the twentieth of the month Boedromion (Plut. Camillus, XIX, 5) which is calculated as the twenty-second of September.

⁵ … The error may be due to a mistake in the figures made by the original transcriber. The date of the battle of Salamis is given correctly as …, that is to say 217 years before 263 B.C.; whereas the date of the birth of Euripides is given as …, or 222 years before. If we write F instead of A as the fourth figure in the numeral the date will be correct, that is, it will agree with the other evidence. The error once made would lead to the error in the archon's name.

⁶ See Suidas, s. v.…Further evidence for this is to be found in the fact that Euripides was one of the few private citizens in ancient Greece to possess a large library (Athen. 3 a), and he was called upon for costly public services (Aristot. Rhet. III, 15). Both of these things meant the possession of wealth, which must have come to him from his parents.

⁷ See Vita and Suidas (s. v.…). The story in Suidas that they came from Boeotia or had been banished there is definitely disproved by the silence of the comic poets.

⁸ Athen. p. 424 f.…

⁹Vita, 1. 17.

¹⁰Vita, 1. 5.

¹¹Vita, 1. 17.

¹² XV, 20, 4.

¹³Vita, 11. 30 and 21.

¹⁴ Parian Marble, 1. 75.…

¹⁵ L. 9.

¹⁶ E.g. Dion. Hal. Ars Rhet. IX, 11 and Gellius, XV, 20, 4.

¹⁷ Diog. Laer. II, 3, 7.

¹⁸ See Diog. Laer. II, 3, 10.…

¹⁹ The same idea has also been claimed for a passage in the Orestes (982 ff.), but incorrectly. See Decharme, Euripide et 1'esprit de son thedtre, p. 37.

²⁰ VIII, praef. 1.

²¹Euripides, der Dichter der Griechischen Aujklarung, p. 156.

²² For a discussion of this subject see Leon Parmentier, Euripide et Anaxagore.

²³ Diogenes Laertius, who is our authority for the story (IX, 8, 54), also says that other writers declared that it was at the house of Megaclides, or in the Lyceum.

²⁴ IX, 8, 55.

²⁵V. H. II, 13. …

²⁶ See W. Nestle, Untersuchungen ueber die Philosophischen Quellen des Euripides.

²⁷ IV, p. 158 e and XIII, p. 561 a.

²⁸ II, 6, 20.…

²⁹Nicias, XXIX, 3 ff.; also Satyrus, Fr. 39, XIX, 11. 11 ff., Ox. Pap. IX, 1912, p. 163.

³⁰Rhet. III, 15, 8. …

³¹Herakles, p. 7.

³² Ll. 90 f.

³³ Fr. 39, XXII, 1 ff.

³⁴Vita, 11. 57 and 121.

³⁵ Solinus, IX, 17.

³⁶ The story is told with some variations in the Life, 11. 54 ff.; in Satyrus, Fr 39, XXI, 2 ff.; in Suidas, s. v.… in Gellius, XV, 20, 9; in Diodorus Siculus XIII, 103, 5.

³⁷ Solinus, IX, 15.

³⁸ XIII, 103, 5; 104, 1.

³⁹ Plut. Lycurg. XXI, 5; Ammian. Marc. XXVII, 4, 8; Anth. Pal. VII, 51.

⁴⁰ Gellius, XV, 20, 10.

⁴¹ Paus. I, 2, 2; Vita, 1. 37.

⁴² There are nine epigrams on Euripides in the Anthologia Palatina, VII, 43-51.

⁴³ Fr. 39, IX.

⁴⁴ XV, 20, 5.

⁴⁵ LI. 61 ff.

⁴⁶ See Vita, 11. 64 ff.; Suidas, s. v.…; Gellius, quoting Alexander Aetolus, XV, 20, 5; Satyrus, Fr. 39, X.

⁴⁷ Codex B (Vaticanus 909) reads here … 98.

⁴⁸ XVII, 4, 3.

⁴⁹De Euripidis Poesi, p. xxv.

⁵⁰Analecta Euripidea, pp. 172 ff.

⁵¹ Louvre, No. 343; Bernouilli, Griechische Ikonographie, Euripides, No. 17: Reinach, Repertoire de la statuaire, I, p. 148.

⁵²I. G. II, 992. See Haigh, Tragic Drama of the Greeks, p. 281, n. 3, and Wilamowitz-Moellendorf, Analecta Euripidea, p. 139.

⁵³ See Wilamowitz-Moellendorf, ibid. pp. 147 ff. for the titles.

⁵⁴ For a discussion of the portraits see Bernouilli, op. cit. 1, pp. 151 ff.

⁵⁵ Paus. I, 21, 1; also Plut. Decem. Orat. p. 841 F.

⁵⁶Vita, 1. 131; Suidas, s. v.…; Gellius, XVII, 4, 3.

⁵⁷ Gellius, ibid.

⁵⁸ The plays were the Iphigenia at Aulis, the Alcmaeon at Corinth and the Bacchae. See Schol. to Aristophanes, Frogs, 67.

⁵⁹ Ll. 21 f…

⁶⁰ See Solinus, IX, 17, Hic Archelaus in tantum litterarum mire amator fuit ut Euripidi tragico consiliorum summam concrederet, etc.

⁶¹Vita, 11. 79 ff. quoting Hermippus.

⁶² See I. G. II, 973 with the comments of A. Wilhelm in Urkunden Dramatisches Auffuhrungen in Athen, pp. 38 ff.

⁶³Tragic Drama of the Greeks, p. 318.

⁶ Athen, XII, p. 537 d.

⁶⁵ In Nauck's Tragicorum Graecorum Fragmenta there are, counting single words, 441 fragments of Aeschylus, 1009 of Sophocles, and 1091 of Euripides.

⁶⁶ Twenty-three lines of the Carians found many years ago.

⁶⁷Quomodo Hist. Consc. 1.

⁶⁸ See Athen. IV, p. 175 b and VIII, p. 352 b, where two passages from the play are quoted.

⁶⁹ IX, 38.

⁷⁰ Plut. Crassus, XXXIII, 2.…

⁷¹ See Nestle, Euripides, p. 20.

⁷² For scenes from his plays on Greek vases, which form the most important class, see particularly L. Sechan, Etudes sur la tragedie grecque dans ses rapports avec la ceramique, (Paris, 1926) pp. 233 ff.

⁷³ See Robert, Winckelmann Prog. Berlin, 1890, pp. 51 ff. and 59 ff.; also Jb. Arch. I. XXIII, 1908, pp. 184 ff.; pls. 5, 6.

⁷⁴ See Robert, ibid. p. 67 and his Oidipus, I, p. 326, fig. 49.

⁷⁵ The word "stage" is used throughout this book in the modern sense. There was no elevated stage in the Greek theatre in the time of Euripides. The whole action, both of actors and chorus, took place in the circular orchestra in front of the stage buildings.

⁷⁶Alcestis, Andromache, Electra, Helen, Heracles Furens, Heraclidae, Iphigenia among the Taurians, Medea, Orestes, Phoenissae and Troades.

⁷⁷Bacchae, Cyclops, Ion and Suppliants.

⁷⁸ Aristotle, to be sure, implies the contrary for audiences in his day. He says of the traditional stories, that those which were known were known to few people …, Poetics, p. 1451 b, 25 f.

⁷⁹ See in this connection Masqueray, Sophocles, Les Trachiniennes, pp. 13 ff.

⁸⁰ I cannot agree with Jebb's statement (Trach. p. xlix) that the prologue of the Trachiniae "is utterly unlike the typical prologues of Euripides in being dramatic." It is essentially the same as many of his prologues.

⁸¹ P. 1454 b, 3 ff.…

⁸² Lines 284 ff.…

⁸³ Lines 403 ff.

⁸⁴ Lines 1409 ff.

⁸⁵ See Dörpfeld und Reisch, Das Griechische Theater, pp. 234 ff.

⁸⁶ See Haigh, The Attic Theatre, pp. 228 ff.

⁸⁷ Lines 1 ff.…

⁸⁸ On line 8. …

⁸⁹ For an account of the costume of the tragic actor see Haigh, The Attic Theatre, pp. 268 ff.

⁹⁰ E.g. Acharnians, scene beginning with line 407.

⁹¹ For a good discussion of the chorus in Euripides see A. E. Phoutrides, Harv. Stud. Class. Phil. XXVII, 1916, pp. 77 ff.; also Decharme, Euripide et l'esprit de son théâtre, pp. 422 ff.

⁹² Lines 338-343, in a papyrus dating from the first century A.D. See Rainer Papyri, V, p. 365, No. 8029; and below, p. 307, No. 27.

⁹³ See Aristotle, Poetics, p. 1454 a, 4 ff.

⁹⁴ Plutarch, Pelopidas, XXIX, 4, tells an anecdote of the bloody and cruel Alexander, tyrant of Pherae, that he left the theatre where the Troades was being played and explained to the principal actor that he did so because he did not wish his people to see him weeping at the misfortunes of Hecuba and Andromache.

⁹⁵ Lines 163 ff.

⁹⁶ Line 1245.…