Chapter IV: Introduction (2)

The foregoing treatment will show that I do not believe a study of the origin of religion to be indispensable for a discussion of the origin of Greek tragedy. Prior to Arion and Epigenes there was nothing which the most fanciful could recognize as akin to modern tragedy. After the work of Thespis and Aeschylus no one can fail to note its presence. To trace, so far as we may, the gradual unfolding of the new genre from a state of nonexistence to a period of vigorous growth seems to me a concrete problem and distinctly worth while. The songs and dances from which tragedy and the satyr-play developed were associated, _at the period when they became truly dramatic_, with the worship of Dionysus, and _at that same period_ Dionysus was as truly a “god” (as distinct from a “hero”) as any that the Greeks ever knew. To abandon these plain facts and others like them in favor of vague theorizing on religious origins will never bring us satisfactory results. Now, in his _Origin of Tragedy_ Ridgeway, who may serve as a protagonist of this method, recognized only the satyr-play as Dionysiac in origin, and attempted to dissociate tragedy and the dithyramb from that deity and to derive them from ceremonies at the tombs of heroes, i.e., from ancestor worship. I cannot conceive that many classical scholars will believe him to have succeeded in this attempt. Ridgeway evidently foresaw this and tried to forestall it by saying that “as Dionysus himself had almost certainly once been only a Thracian hero, even if it were true that Tragedy had risen from his cult, its real ultimate origin would still be in the worship of the dead” (_op. cit._, p. 93). What, then, was the point in his conceding that satyric drama was Dionysiac in origin? In that case the ultimate origins of tragedy and satyric drama must, after all, have been identical, and the differences in their origins must have consisted only of the minor divergencies in the final stage of their development. In practice, how does this result differ from the more usual procedure, which ignores the ultimate sources and concentrates attention upon the last stage of development? So far as I can see, it would differ only to the extent that the underlying religion of both genres would now be understood to be ancestor worship. But this distinction loses all meaning, for the reason that in his last volume Ridgeway maintains that “Vegetation, Corn, and Tree spirits, as well as those of rocks, mountains, and rivers, and what are collectively termed Totemistic beliefs,” fertility-rites, initiation-rites, mana, “the worship of Demeter and almost[82] all other Greek deities” are “not primary phenomena but merely secondary and dependent on the primary belief in the immortality and durability of the soul,” and consequently that tragedy and serious drama (being everywhere associated with some form of religion) not only in Greece but “wherever they are found under the sun have their roots in the world-wide belief in the continued existence of the soul after the death of the body.”[83] How much of truth there may be in Ridgeway’s contention that ancestor worship is prior to and the ultimate source of other forms of religion I shall not stop to discuss. But the practical value of so universal a generalization has been well expressed by another: “Even if it can be shown that your far-off ancestor was an ape, it does not follow that your father was an ape.”[84] In other words, in spite of any resemblance which may have obtained between the ultimate forms of Dionysiac worship and the true veneration of heroes, _at the time when tragedy actually came into being_ the existing differences between them were of much greater significance than any alleged identity of origin in the far-distant past could have been. If it were possible for Ridgeway to substantiate his first position, viz., that tragedy arose _directly_ from the worship of the hero Adrastus at Sicyon, or the like, there would be some meaning in his work. But his doctrine of _ultimate_ derivation loses itself in primeval darkness.

_The Origin of Comedy._[85]—The difficulty of this problem was recognized as early as Aristotle:

Now the successive changes in tragedy and the persons who
were instrumental thereto have not passed into oblivion,
but comedy did suffer oblivion for the reason that it was
not at first taken seriously. And a proof of this is found
in the fact that it was relatively late [viz., 486 B.C.]
before the archon granted a chorus of comic performers;
they used to be volunteers. And comedy already had certain
forms when the aforementioned comic poets [i.e., Chionides
and Magnes, the first comedians after official recognition
was granted] appear in the records. Who furnished it with
“characters” (πρόσωπα)[86] or prologues or number of actors
and the like remains unknown. Developing a regular plot was a
Sicilian invention, but of the Athenians the first to abandon
the “iambic” or lampooning form and to begin to fashion
comprehensive themes and plots was Crates.[87]

But whatever uncertainties may obscure the various stages in the history of comedy, fortunately there is little doubt as to the source from which it came. Aristotle states that “comedy also sprang from improvisations, originating with the leaders of the phallic ceremonies,[88] which still survive as institutions in many of our cities.”[89] Mr. Cornford (_op. cit._, pp. 37 ff.) finds the best illustration of these ceremonies in the well-known passage in Aristophanes’ _Acharnians_, vss. 237 ff. Dicaeopolis has just concluded a private peace with Sparta and prepares to celebrate a festival of Dionysus on his country estate. He marshals his meager procession as if it contained a multitude, his daughter carries upon her head a sacred basket with the implements of sacrifice, two slaves hold aloft a pole which is surmounted by the phallic symbol, and Dicaeopolis himself brings up the rear with a large pot in his arms, while the wife and mother constitutes the watching throng. At vss. 246 ff. a sacrifice is offered to the accompaniment of an invocation to Dionysus. Finally Dicaeopolis re-forms his procession with various coarse remarks and starts up a phallic ballad of an obscene nature in honor of Phales, “mate of Dionysus and fellow-reveller” (ξύγκωμε). The proceedings thus consist of a procession to the place of sacrifice, the sacrifice itself, and the phallic song or _comus_ (κῶμος). The last is important for our present purpose because comedy (κωμῳδία) etymologically means “comus-song” (κῶμος + ᾠδή). Κῶμος denotes both a revel and the band of masqueraders participating therein. The comus was the particular type of phallic ceremony from which comedy developed.

The comus in Aristophanes’ _Acharnians_ is sung by Dicaeopolis alone for the reason that the lack of suitable helpers compelled him to act as both priest and congregation. But Cornford is right (_op. cit._, pp. 38 ff.) in recognizing this song as belonging to a widely spread type in which the improvisations of one or more leaders (ἐξάρχοντες) are interrupted at more or less regular intervals by a recurrent chantey on the part of the chorus. In this instance the song is not continued to a length natural to the type, but is cut short by the real chorus of the play which has been hiding but now bursts forth and stops proceedings with a shower of stones. From the standpoint of contents Cornford detects two elements in the comus: an invocation to the god to attend his worshipers in their rites, and an improvisational “iambic” element of obscene ribaldry, which often took the form of satire directed against individuals by name (_ibid._, p. 41). These two elements exactly correspond to the double object of all phallic ceremonies, which were both a “positive agent of fertilization” and a “negative charm against evil spirits.” The former result was obtained by the invocation of friendly powers; as to the latter,

the simplest of all methods of expelling such malign influences
of any kind is to abuse them with the most violent language. No
distinction is drawn between this and the custom of abusing,
and even beating, the persons or things which are to be rid of
them, as a carpet is beaten for no fault of its own, but to get
the dust out of it.... There can be no doubt that the element
of invective and personal satire which distinguishes the Old
Comedy is directly descended from the magical abuse of the
phallic procession, just as its obscenity is due to the sexual
magic; and it is likely that this ritual justification was well
known to an audience familiar with the phallic ceremony itself
[_ibid._, pp. 49 f.].

It is possible to cite many examples of ritualistic scurrility among the Greeks, such as that indulged in by the Eleusinian procession as it approached “the bridge,” that of the riders upon the carts on the Day of Pots (χόες) at the Anthesteria, that at the Stenia festival, and many others. Sometimes these involved physical violence as well as mere abuse, and this element (or the threat of it) frequently recurs in Old Comedy. Perhaps the most interesting parallel is afforded by Herodotus v. 82 f. In the sixth century B.C., in order to avert a famine, the Epidaurians set up wooden statues of Damia and Auxesia, goddesses of fertility.[90] Somewhat later, the Aeginetans stole these images and set them up in their own country; “they used to appease them with sacrifices and female satiric choruses, appointing ten men to furnish the choruses for each goddess; the choruses abused no man but only the women of the country; the Epidaurians also had the same rites.”

The comus frequently took the form of a company marching from house to house to the music of a flute-player and rendering a program of singing and dancing at every dwelling. From what has already been said it will be understood that the improvisations of the comus leaders would rarely redound to the credit of the householders. These scurrilous attacks upon their neighbors combined with other motives to induce the comus revelers to assume disguises, which varied from year to year. Now, according to the _Parian Chronicle_, comic choruses were the invention of Susarion and were first performed at Icaria. This doubtless means that Susarion transformed the ceremonies of an old ritual procession in the country into a “stationary” performance in an orchestra. The same authority informs us that this innovation was introduced into Athens between 580 and 560 B.C.[91] This notice must refer to the Lenaean festival, since the program of the City Dionysia did not receive this addition until about 501 B.C. At both festivals the performances still continued for some time to be called comuses (κῶμοι), comedy being a name of later date, and were produced by “volunteers.” Five Attic vase paintings of about 500 B.C. depict comus revelers as cocks, birds, or as riding upon horses, dolphins, or ostriches (Figs. 12-16).[92] The state did not assume official supervision of comedy until 486 B.C. at the City Dionysia and about 442 B.C. at the Lenaea.[93]

A COMUS UPON A BRITISH MUSEUM OENOCHOE

See p. 38, n. 2]

See p. 38, n. 2]

Before we can proceed further, it will be necessary to consider the nature of ancient comedy. In the time of Hadrian the history of literary comedy at Athens was divided into three periods, called Old, Middle, and New Comedy, respectively. Old Comedy came to a close shortly after the beginning of the fourth century B.C. Politics and scurrilous attacks upon contemporaneous personages made up the bulk of its subject-matter. Living men, such as Pericles, Socrates, Euripides, and Cleon were represented by actors on the stage and were lampooned with the utmost virulence. Sometimes their identity was thinly disguised under a transparent pseudonym, but oftentimes the very name of the victim was retained along with the other marks of identification. Middle Comedy was a transitional period of about half a century’s duration between Old and New. It renounced the political and personal themes of its forerunner and was largely given up to literary criticism, parodies, and mythological travesty. New Comedy, in turn, abandoned such subjects for the most part and devoted itself to motives drawn from everyday life. Except for the occasional presence of the chorus, it does not greatly differ in structure, theme, or technique from the comedy of manners today, _mutatis mutandis_.

See p. 38, n. 2]

For the study of origins, however, we must turn back to the earliest type, Old Comedy, which is entirely unlike any present-day genre. We are fortunate in possessing eleven complete plays of Aristophanes, the chief poet of Old Comedy; and though no two of them are exactly alike in the details of their structure, yet the general outline is clear. The leading features are as follows:[94]

1. The _prologue_ (πρόλογος) spoken by the actors and serving both as an exposition and to set the action of the play in motion.

2. The _parodus_ (πάρoδος), or entrance song of the chorus. Originally this division must have been exclusively choral, but by Aristophanes’ time it has been developed so as sometimes to include lines spoken by actors.

3. The _agon_ (ἀγών, “contest”), a “dramatized debate” or verbal duel between two actors, each supported by a semi-chorus; see p. 43, below.

4. The _parabasis_ (from παραβαίνω, to “come forward”), a “choral agon” in which the chorus, the actors being off stage, march forward to address the audience. When complete, the parabasis consists of seven parts which fall into two groups: the first group contains three single parts, which were probably rendered by the first coryphaeus. Dropping all dramatic illusion and all connection with the preceding events of the play, he sets forth the poet’s views concerning his own merits and claims upon the public, ridicules the rival playwrights, announces his opinions on civic questions, etc. The second group contains four parts in the form of an epirrhematic syzygy, i.e., a _song_ (ᾠδή) and _epirrheme_ (ἐπίῤῥημα, “speech”) by one semi-chorus and its leader, respectively, are counterbalanced by an _antode_ (ἀντῳδή) and an _antepirrheme_ (ἀντεπίῤῥημα) by the other semi-chorus and its leader; here the chorus usually sing in character once more, the knights praising their “horses,” the birds their manner of life as compared with men’s, etc.[95]

5. There follows a series of _episodes_ (ἐπεισόδια), histrionic scenes separated (6) by brief _choral odes_ (στάσιμα or χορικά). The episodes portray the consequences of the victory won in the agon (3). For example, in the _Acharnians_ the subject of controversy is whether Dicaeopolis shall be punished for the alleged treason of having made a private peace with Sparta, and part (5) represents him, in a succession of burlesque scenes, as enjoying the fruits of that peace.

7. The _exodus_ (ἔξοδος), or recessional of the chorus. Properly speaking, this should contain only the final, retiring song of the chorus (the ἐξόδιον), but the term came to include the histrionic passage just preceding it, also.

This is a very incomplete sketch of a highly complicated subject, but it will suffice for present purposes.

Now in the scurrility of the primitive (non-literary) comus Professor Navarre (_op. cit._, p. 248) would recognize three stages. In the first, the ribaldry of the comus received no answer from the crowd of spectators. This is doubtless to be explained by supposing that all who were competent to participate were already members of the comus; the spectators consisted only of women and children, who frequently had no more right of speech in religious ritual than in law. So Dicaeopolis’ wife is present but speechless in Aristophanes’ _Acharnians_ (see p. 36, above). In the second stage, the bystanders retorted to the assaults of the comus revelers. This probably indicates that membership in the comus has been restricted in some way, leaving others free to retaliate in kind from the crowd. The third stage was reached when this new element was formally recognized and brought within the comus itself, which was thus divided into antagonistic halves for mutual recrimination. Thus may be explained a peculiar feature of Old Comedy. Its chorus was a double chorus of twenty-four members, always divided into two semi-choruses, which often were hostile during a large portion of the play. Sometimes this division between them was shown by their masks or costumes, as when the chorus represented men and women, horses and their riders, etc. But sometimes the division was one of sentiment—one semi-chorus, for example, favoring peace and the other being opposed to it. The result of this division of the early comus revelers into semi-choruses is a parallelism of structure in certain parts of comedy, ode being matched by antode, and the epirrheme of one chorus leader by the antepirrheme of the other. It is clear that all the divisions which show this duality of arrangement descend from the comus.[96]

One of these divisions is the parabasis (4). Though one of the most ancient features of Old Comedy, it was also one of the first to decay: complete in Aristophanes’ earlier plays, it is always mutilated in some way during his middle period and in his last two comedies has disappeared entirely. We have seen (p. 37, above) that the essential characteristics of the phallic ceremonies were the induction of the good influences by invocation and the aversion of the bad by vituperation. Now in the epirrhematic syzygy which constituted the second half of the parabasis, even as late as Aristophanes, when it naturally must have changed considerably in function, “the ode and antode normally contain an invocation, either of a muse or of gods, who are invited to be present at the dance, the divine personages being always selected with reference to the character of the chorus. The epirrheme and antepirrheme often contain the other element of satire or some milder form of advice and exhortation.”[97]

Another division of Old Comedy which was carefully balanced and which ought, therefore, to be a derivative of the comus is the agon (3). Normally this division was epirrhematic in structure and fell into nine parts, as follows: First comes the ode sung by one half-chorus, then the _cataceleusmus_ (κατακελευσμός, “encouragement”) in which their leader exhorts one of the actor contestants, thirdly this actor delivers his speech (epirrheme), concluding with a peroration (πνῖγος, “choke,” so called because it was all to be delivered in one breath and left the performer speechless). Next came the antode, anticataceleusmus, antepirrheme, and antipnigus rendered by the other half-chorus, their leader, and the second actor, respectively. Finally, in the _sphragis_ (σφραγίς, “seal”) is given the unanimous verdict of the whole chorus. At first glance it would seem that too important a rôle is here played by actors for the agon ever to have been derived from the comus, which was purely choral. The comus consisted of an undifferentiated band of revelers and its choreutae assumed no distinct parts. In fact, there is no reason to suppose that their performances involved dramatic impersonation (μίμησις) at all. They might be dressed to represent birds or animals, but with few or no exceptions they sang and spoke and conducted themselves as would be appropriate for men engaged in such a rite to do. As we have already seen (p. 38, above) their costumes were for disguise.

Nevertheless, the situation is not so impossible as it seems. The fact that the masks and costumes of the choreutae were all alike, or at most of two types to correspond to the two semi-choruses, did not prevent each member of the chorus from speaking, or singing, apart from the rest. This was sometimes done even in fully developed tragedy, where the line of distinction between chorus and actors was usually a sharp one. Thus, in Aeschylus’ _Agamemnon_, vss. 1348 ff., each of the choreutae in turn pronounces two iambic lines. In particular, the rôles of the two chorus leaders must have been developed in the comus and early comedy so as partly to compensate for the lack of actors. Note that Aristotle does not state merely that comedy sprang from phallic ceremonies but from the _leaders_ (ἐξάρχοντες) of the phallic ceremonies. An illustration of what may result from participation in the action on the part of individual choreutae is afforded by Aristophanes’ _Women in Council_. I believe that the “First Woman” and the “Second Woman” who appear in our editions as uttering brief remarks at the beginning of this play are not actors but the leaders of the two half-choruses.[98] In function they are not at first distinguishable from Praxagora. Indeed, it does not transpire until later that Praxagora herself is an actor, not the coryphaeus. The fact is that in all his plays Aristophanes seems to have assigned his two chorus leaders more extensive participation both in lyrics and in recitative than has been generally recognized (cf. White, _op. cit., passim_). In my opinion this sort of thing was even more common at an earlier period, and in this way it was possible for the comus to have a quasi-agon from which the later histrionic agon could easily develop. Of course, the chorus leaders could not appear in individualized rôles, as the actors did in the Aristophanic agon, for characters had not yet been introduced into comedy; but they could engage in a contest of perfectly general, depersonalized billingsgate or, at a later period, speak as the poet’s mouthpiece for the pros or cons of any question. Thus, they would not represent individual men, with an individual’s name and characterization, but _any_ men. Their sentiments would have been equally appropriate in the mouths of any of the other choreutae.

The agon and parabasis must necessarily have been flanked on either side by a processional and a recessional. In their simplest form, these need not have involved more than silent marching in and out again; but probably the flute accompaniment was always present, and singing would soon be added. Even when words and singing were employed, there was no necessity of these being newly composed for each occasion or even original at all. It will be remembered that in Aristophanes’ earliest and latest plays he did not write special exodia but borrowed from earlier poets any popular airs that suited his purpose.[99] Moreover, Aristophanes’ exodi lack the balanced structure which is characteristic of all divisions which descend directly from the primitive comus; but in this instance that fact has no significance, for the reason that by the end of a comedy (or comus) the two half-choruses would always be reconciled and go marching off together. Nevertheless, the intrusion of the histrionic element, the comparative rarity of the earliest dramatic meter (the trochaic tetrameter), and the absence of a canonical structure make it plain that the recessional of the primitive comus never developed into a regular division—in other words, that the exodus of Aristophanic comedy was the product of a later period.

On the other hand, the Aristophanic parodus resembles the agon and the parabasis in making a large use of the tetrameter (_op. cit._, p. 185). Moreover, it contains distinct survivals of epirrhematic composition (_ibid._, pp. 159 and 366), so that, in spite of its histrionic elements and the absence of a canonical form, the parodus ought to be considered as having been exclusively choral by origin and as having developed out of the simple processional before the comus became histrionic.

The theatrical comus, then, must have been something as follows: first a choral parodus, next a semi-histrionic agon, then a parabasis, and finally a recessional which ultimately developed into an exodus. A late notice,[100] if correctly emended, informs us that at one time comedies contained no more than three hundred verses. I am of the opinion that this is the type of performance alluded to and that comedy did not, in essence, greatly depart therefrom until actors, as distinct from the chorus, were added.

How did this addition come to be made? It is impossible that the comic playwrights, with the actors of tragedy ever before them, should never have thought of taking this step. Nevertheless, the main impulse seems to have come from another direction. We have seen (p. 36, above) that in the non-theatrical comus the phallus was borne on a pole in the ritual procession with which the comus was originally associated; it was not worn. Neither is it worn by the comus choreutae as represented on Attic vase paintings (Figs. 12-16). But in Old Comedy it is clear that at least some of the characters wore the phallic emblem. That this was in fact the general practice appears from the language in which Aristophanes boasts of the modesty of his _Clouds_:

And observe how pure her morals: who, to notice first her dress,
Enters not with filthy symbols on her modest garments hung,
Jeering bald-heads, dancing ballets, for the laughter of the young.[101]

And Dr. Körte (_op. cit._, pp. 66 ff.) has collected ten passages in other plays of our poet which indicate that Aristophanes was not always so puritanical as he claims to be here. These conclusions are confirmed also by numerous representations, of Attic workmanship, which are plausibly thought to depict actors in Old and Middle Comedy (Figs. 17-19).[102] By the time of New Comedy, on the contrary, the phallus was apparently no longer worn, and the characters were garbed in the dress of everyday life. Now the Dorian mime or farce was widely cultivated in the Peloponnesus and Magna Graecia. The performers were individualized actors, not welded into a chorus. They wore the phallus, had their bodies stuffed out grotesquely both in front and behind by means of copious padding, and in general bear a very close resemblance to the comic actors at Athens (Figs. 20 and 21).[103] Their performances were loosely connected, burlesque scenes, abounding in stock characters and enlivened by obscenity and ribald jests. Most authorities agree that the burlesque episodes (5) of Old Comedy are derived from this source. According to Aristotle,[104] the Megarians claimed that comedy originated with them about 600 B.C. when a democracy with its resultant freedom of speech was established among them. It was even asserted that Susarion, the reputed founder of Attic comedy (see p. 38, above), came from Megara, but this claim is apparently unwarranted.[105] The fact remains, however, that Aristophanes and his confrères often speak of stupid, vulgar scenes or jokes as being “stolen from Megara.”[106] Though these words have been otherwise explained,[107] I believe that Megara, which is the nearest Dorian city to Attica, had something to do with the introduction of the histrionic element into Attic comedy. Of course, this does not mean that Megara is to be regarded as the inventor of Athenian comedy, for the comus was indigenous and received its development on Attic soil and the type of performance which came into being after the introduction of actors was quite unlike anything in Megara or any other part of the Dorian world.

See p. 47, n. 1]

See p. 47, n. 1]

See p. 47, n. 1]

See p. 47, n. 2]

With actors, impersonation became possible for the first time in Attic comedy. Besides the nondescript chorus and chorus leaders, there were now performers who could assume the identity of real or imaginary characters and carry a rôle or, by a change of mask, several rôles through the play. The importance of all this is too obvious to require amplification. It marked the birth of dramatic comedy at Athens. Through the introduction of actors, comedy became amenable to several other influences. Tragedy could at once make itself felt. A histrionic prologue could now be added, the comic prologue corresponding in length and function to the tragic prologue and first episode combined.[108] A real agon of actors now became possible, whatever use may have been made previously of the chorus leaders for this purpose. Furthermore, the new Megarian burlesque episodes (5) would naturally be separated by stasima (6) in imitation of tragedy. It would also be possible to insert an episode[109] between the parodus and the agon, as is done in Aristophanes’ _Plutus_, vss. 322-486; or between the agon and the parabasis, as in Aristophanes’ _Knights_, vss. 461-97; or to compose a second parabasis and to insert an additional episode between them, as in Aristophanes’ _Peace_, vss. 1039-1126, etc. In addition to all this, tragedy would exert a constant influence in elevating and standardizing all parts of comedy alike.

See p. 47, n. 2]

But the restricted and even disconnected method of elaboration employed in earlier comedy, with its invective, lampoons, and obscene jests, would not suffice to fill so ample a framework. Therefore, it became necessary to broaden and deepen the plots; in fact, now for the first time in Attic comedy was it possible to have a plot worthy of the name. All this is implied in the words which have already been quoted from Aristotle (p. 35, above): “Developing a regular plot was a Sicilian invention, but of the Athenians the first to abandon the ‘iambic’ or lampooning form and to begin to fashion comprehensive themes and plots (καθόλου ποιεῖν λόγους καὶ μύθους) was Crates.” The reference in the first half of this sentence is to Epicharmus, whose name actually appears in Aristotle’s text at this point but without grammatical construction. Epicharmus was a resident of Megara Hyblaea in Sicily, whence he migrated to Syracuse about 485 B.C. Like the Megarians on the Greek mainland, also the Sicilian Megarians laid claim to the honor of having invented comedy.[110] They based their pretensions on the fact that Epicharmus flourished and won his reputation before 486 B.C., which was the _terminus post quem_ for the beginning of the official careers of Magnes and Chionides, who were the first poets of state-supported (as opposed to volunteer) comedy, at the City Dionysia in Athens. Epicharmus raised the Dorian mime in Sicily to literary importance, and seems to have improved upon the detached or but loosely connected scenes of his predecessors by stringing them together upon the thread of a common plot-interest. His plays had no chorus and did not touch upon his contemporaries or politics. Now Aristotle’s words concerning Crates must certainly be understood as indicating a resemblance between him and Epicharmus in at least some of these particulars. The expression which I have translated “to fashion comprehensive themes and plots” has been rendered “generalized his themes and plots” by Butcher, “to frame stories of a general and non-personal nature, in other words, Fables or Plots” by Bywater, and “composed plots or fables of a ‘universal’ character” by Cornford (_op. cit._, p. 217). Whatever other meaning may inhere in this phrase, I think that it must be taken to mean, first of all, that Crates, like Epicharmus, made all or, at least, most of the parts of his plays subservient to one connecting idea or plot; and it seems to me that the previous clause which refers to his abandonment of the “iambic” or lampooning form looks in the same direction. In my opinion, the invective of his predecessors had been episodic and unrelated to its context by any sequence of thought, often being expressed in passages like the following:

Shall we all a merry joke
At Archedemus poke,
Who has not cut his guildsmen yet, though seven years old;
Yet up among the dead
He is demagogue and head,
And contrives the topmost place of the rascaldom to hold?
And Clisthenes, they say,
Is among the tombs all day,
Bewailing for his lover with a lamentable whine.
And Callias, I’m told,
Has become a sailor bold,
And casts a lion’s hide o’er his members feminine.[111]

Here this abuse is dragged in a propos of nothing, and the three citizens who are assailed within a score of lines have no connection with the main theme of the play. It was this sort of thing, I venture to believe, that Crates discontinued; and Aristotle’s language does not require us to conclude that he relinquished scurrility altogether. It is usually thought, however, that Crates made no assaults of any kind upon his contemporaries but “generalized” his plots by treating imaginary, “ideal” characters in his plays. In other words, he is supposed to have anticipated to some extent the manner and material of New Comedy. I have no desire to combat this view, which simply advances a step beyond my own. The main fact, that of Crates’ having invented plot sequence in Attic comedy, can hardly be made a matter of dispute.

We are indebted to a late authority, Tzetzes, for the following statements:

But also Old Comedy differs from itself [i.e., falls into
two types], for those who first established the institution
of comedy in Attica (and they were Susarion and his
successors) used to bring on the characters (πρόσωπα) in an
undifferentiated crowd (ἀτάκτως), and laughter alone was
the object sought. But Cratinus [a contemporary of Crates],
succeeding them, put a stop to the confusion (ἀταξίαν) and set
the characters (πρόσωπα) in comedy for the first time at three;
and he added profit to the pleasure of comedy, lampooning the
evildoers and chastising them with comedy as with a public
scourge. But even he still shared in the archaic qualities and,
slightly, in the confusion (ἀταξίας).[112]

Whatever the ultimate source of this notice, it contains much of value. In the first place, a distinction is correctly drawn between primitive comedy (Susarion to Cratinus; _ca._ 565 to _ca._ 450 B.C.) and Old Comedy (450 to _ca._ 385 B.C.). The earlier period is marked by ἀταξία, which I refer to the practice of having characterless choreutae take part singly as if they were actors (see p. 44, above). Though still occasionally guilty of this practice, as even Aristophanes sometimes was, Cratinus regularly withdrew his choreutae from participation in the dialogue and reduced the performers to three. These three, however, were now real actors, as distinct from the chorus and chorus leaders, and played individualized rôles which demanded dramatic impersonation. The number three was doubtless due to contemporaneous tragedy in which the number of actors had recently been increased by Sophocles from two to three (see p. 167, below).[113]

A second difference between primitive comedy and Old Comedy is found in the use which was made of invective. If this development had not taken place, Old Comedy would not occupy the unique place which it now holds in the dramatic literature of the world. As we have just seen, the lampooning of primitive comedy was probably episodic and detached from the context, like that in Aristophanes’ _Frogs_, vss. 416-30; a whole play was not devoted to one person, and no citizen was impersonated by an actor. Its object was merely to cause a laugh and it rarely served any useful purpose, certainly none for the public interests of the state. It was a natural outgrowth of the magical abuse of the old phallic processions. Now Old Comedy, on the whole, was just the reverse of this, and Cratinus seems to have been the innovator who, “generalizing” his plots by giving them a single theme, after the fashion set by Crates, devoted them solely or mainly to political and social questions and dragged his victims in person upon his stage.

When did these changes take place? First let it be noted how they mutually depend one upon another: neither tragedy nor the Sicilian mime could greatly influence early Attic comedy until actors, as distinct from a chorus, were introduced, nor could their influence be long delayed after the actors came. I think that these factors came to fruition not long before 450 B.C.

_a_) Reverting to Aristotle’s words (quoted on p. 35, above), when are we to suppose that the Athenians began to “treat comedy seriously”? The most obvious answer would be, “486 B.C., when comedy first received official recognition.” Chionides and Magnes are the poets of this period, and there is no reason to believe that they improved upon their immediate predecessors of the “volunteer” comedy otherwise than in a more worthy literary treatment of their plays. Aristophanes describes Magnes’ efforts in the following terms:

All voices he uttered, all forms he assumed, the Lydian, the
fig-piercing Fly,
The Harp with its strings, the Bird with its wings, the Frog
with its yellow-green dye.[114]

It is plain that these words refer to plays by Magnes which were called _The Lydians_, _The Gall-Flies_, _The Harpists_, _The Birds_, and _The Frogs_. These titles at once remind us of the animal masks which were so common in the comus (Figs. 12-16). Of course, state supervision implies a certain amount of serious attention. Nevertheless I think that in this passage Aristotle had a later period in mind.

It was long ago pointed out that Attic comedies were not published before the time of Cratinus. The fact of publication shows that comedy was at last being treated with true seriousness and helps to explain the ignorance, in later times, with respect to certain points. Though the state records gave the names of comic victors from 486 B.C. on, they did not include information upon matters of mere technique. For knowledge of this sort Aristotle (the ultimate source of Tzetzes) and all other ancient investigators were almost entirely dependent upon what they could glean from the editions of Cratinus, Crates, and their successors. Now the earliest texts available revealed the use of characters, prologues, and three actors as well as of the parodus, agon, parabasis, and exodus. Why did Aristotle specifically name the first group and not the second?

In my opinion, Professor Capps[115] has provided the correct answer. He maintains that Aristotle distinguished two kinds of ignorance concerning the history of comedy. In the first place, there was the Egyptian darkness which covered the period previous to 486 B.C. For example, when Aristotle declared that comedy “already had certain forms” (σχήματά τινα) at this time, he could not have specified what these forms were; he was merely surmising that the fact of state supervision presupposed more or less definiteness of form. In the second place, there was the period of semi-darkness immediately after 486 B.C. Tradition must have placed in this period the introduction of characters, prologues, and three actors, and so Aristotle singled them out for mention. But tradition had not handed down also the names of the innovators, and in the absence of texts it was impossible to probe the matter further. Needless to state, the situation regarding the other innovations, whether of this period or earlier, was much worse.

_b_) Though Thespis is said to have invented the prologue in tragedy, this statement is justly discredited (see p. 298, below); and no tragedy is actually known to have had one before Phrynichus’ _Phoenician Women_ (476 B.C.). Aeschylus’ _Suppliants_ (about 490 B.C.) and _Persians_ (472 B.C.) have none. It is most unlikely that comedy should have anticipated tragedy in this feature.

_c_) Capps[116] has plausibly suggested that knowledge of Epicharmus’ achievements in comedy was brought to Athens by Aeschylus, who is known to have been in Sicily _ca._ 476 B.C., shortly after 472 B.C., and for about two years before his death there in 456 B.C.

_d_) The third actor was introduced into tragedy between about 468 and 458 B.C., and it is more probable that the use of three actors in comedy was borrowed from tragedy than vice versa.

_e_) Cratinus won his first victory at the City Dionysia of 452 B.C. and (_f_) Crates at that of 450 B.C. Doubtless the activity of both men began somewhat earlier.

_g_) It is incredible that the state should have postponed official control of comedy at the Lenaean festival until about 442 B.C., if the developments which we have been sketching had taken place long before.

_h_) The earliest comedian to refer to Megarian comedy is Ecphantides, whose first victory was won between 457 and 453 B.C. Whenever Aristophanes “names any writers of ‘vulgar comedy’ who used the stale antics which he repudiates, these writers are his own predecessors and contemporaries of the Attic stage.”[117] This implies that the borrowing was a fairly recent occurrence.

_i_) Finally, Megara was actually under the sway of Athens during 460/59-446/45 B.C. The opportunity for the exchange of ideas between Megara and Athens would naturally be most favorable at that time.

In view of the preceding considerations, I am of the opinion that actors were introduced into Athenian comedy shortly before 450 B.C.

See p. 57, n. 3]

See p. 57, n. 3]

_The Greek Theater._[118]—Since, as we have seen, both tragedy and comedy among the Greeks were choral by origin, the center of their theaters was a circular “dancing place” called an _orchestra_[119] (ὀρχήστρα), in the middle of which stood a _thymele_ (θυμέλη) or “altar” (Figs. 22 f.).[120] When an actor was added to the tragic choreutae, it became necessary to provide a dressing-room where he might change his mask and costume. This temporary structure was called a σκηνή (“hut”: our English word “scene”), and at first stood outside the spectators’ range of vision. Afterward it was brought immediately behind the orchestral circle and then served also as a background in front of which the dramatic action was performed. Its face was pierced by doors, usually three but sometimes only one, which were conventionally thought of as leading into as many different houses. The scene-building often had two projecting side wings called _parascenia_ (παρά, “beside” + σκηνή). The front of the scene-building and of the parascenia came to be decorated with a row of columns, the _proscenium_ (πρό, “before” + σκηνή). The top of this proscenium was used by actors when they had occasion to speak from the housetop or were thought of as standing upon some elevation. In the course of time it was employed also for divinities, especially in epiphanies at the close of tragedies (see p. 292, below). Since this spot was never invaded by the singing or dancing of the chorus and was the only place reserved for actors exclusively, it came to be called the _logium_ (λογεῖον, from λέγειν to “speak”) or “speaking place.”[121] Behind the logium was the second story of the scene-building, known as the _episcenium_ (ἐπισκήνιον; ἐπί, “upon” + σκηνή); its front wall was pierced by one or more large doorways. Past each parascenium a “side entrance” or _parodus_ (πάροδος; παρά, “beside” + ὁδός, “passage”) led into the orchestra. These entrances were used by the audience before and after the play, and during it by the actors (who could use also the doors in the scene-building) and the chorus. The parodi were often framed by beautiful gateways (Figs. 51 f.). The remainder of the orchestral circle was surrounded by the auditorium, the “theater” proper.[122] Chorus and actors stood on the same level in the orchestra or in the space between it and the scene-building. There was no stage in the Greek theaters until about the beginning of the Christian era.

But when the Greek theaters came under Roman influence and were provided with a stage, these technical terms naturally acquired a somewhat different significance (Figs. 24 and 62-64).[123] The proscenium was still the columned wall in front of the scene-building, but it now stood upon the stage (at the rear), and the stage itself was the logium. Whenever theophanies required a still higher level, this was furnished by the top of the proscenium,[124] which was called the _theologium_ (θεολογεῖον; θεός, “god” + λογεῖον) or “speaking place of divinities.”[125] The space beneath the stage, or its front wall alone, was known as the _hyposcenium_ (ὑποσκήνιον; ὑπό, “beneath” + σκηνή).[126] There were now two sets of parodi, leading upon the stage and into the orchestra respectively. These two paragraphs are meant for purposes of orientation and are written from the standpoint of one who believes with Dörpfeld that in Greek theaters of the classical period actors and chorus normally moved upon the same level.[127]

See p. 60, n. 2]

See p. 61, n. 3]

See p. 61, n. 4]

See p. 61, n. 4]

See p. 61, n. 4]

See p. 62, n. 2]

A Greek town could hardly be so small or so remote as not to have its own theater and dramatic festival (Figs. 25 and 70 f.).[128] The Greek theaters were regularly built upon a hillside and often commanded an outlook over a scene of great natural beauty and picturesqueness (Figs. 26-28).[129] So far as such structures have come down to us, the oldest is the theater of Dionysus Eleuthereus at Athens, and this is also the one of greatest interest to us, for the reason that in it were produced practically all the masterpieces of the greatest Greek dramatists (Figs. 1 and 31-41).[130] It seems strange that this building should not have remained continuously known to men from ancient times until the present hour, but in fact its very location passed into oblivion for centuries. During mediaeval times and until well into the modern era it was thought that the theater or odeum of Herodes Atticus, a Roman structure of the second century A.D. and situated at the opposite end of the Acropolis, represented the Dionysiac theater of the classical period (Fig. 29).[131] The correct site was first pointed out by R. Chandler in 1765, and is clearly indicated by a bronze coin of imperial times which shows the relation subsisting between the theater of Dionysus and the Parthenon (Figs. 30 f.).[132] Excavations were conducted desultorily from time to time, beginning in 1841, but were not completed until the work under Dörpfeld’s direction in 1886, 1889, and 1895.

The oldest structure in the precinct of Dionysus Eleuthereus is the earlier temple (Fig. 32).[133] This was built in the sixth century B.C., possibly in 534 B.C., when Pisistratus established the tragic contest. Here was housed the cult image of Dionysus which had been brought from Eleutherae.

See p. 63, n. 1]

See p. 63, n. 1]

See p. 63, n. 2]

See p. 65, n. 1]

See p. 65, n. 1]

Somewhat later are the remains of the early orchestra. According to late notices,[134] the original place of holding theatrical performances in Athens was an orchestra in the old market place, the location of which has not yet been determined. At that period the audience sat upon “wooden bleachers” (ἴκρια), which are said[135] to have collapsed on the occasion of a contest between Aeschylus, Pratinas, and Choerilus in the seventieth Olympiad (about 499 B.C.). In consequence, a new theater was constructed in the precinct of Dionysus, where the seats, though still of wood, could be supported in part by the south slope of the Acropolis. When the stone theater on this site was first brought to light, it was erroneously supposed that this was the structure which had been erected as a result of the accident just mentioned. As a matter of fact, practically all that remains of the first theater are certain fragments of the orchestra (Figs. 33 f.).[136] These are sufficient to indicate that this orchestra was over seventy-eight feet in diameter and stood nearly fifty feet farther south than the later orchestra (Figs. 32 and 32_a_).[137] As it receded from the Acropolis it was banked up to a maximum of about six and a half feet, leaving a declivity immediately behind it. The extant plays of this period show that for about thirty years no background of any kind stood in this declivity (see p. 226, below). Theatrical properties, such as a tomb, might be temporarily built at the center or to one side of the orchestra. If dressing-rooms were then provided for the actors and chorus they must have stood some distance away. In the absence of a back scene, the performers could enter only at the sides. These same entrances were used also by the spectators in assembling. The seats, being of wood until the fourth century, have left no trace; but there can, of course, be no doubt of their position on the slope. Well up the side an ancient road cut the auditorium into an upper and lower section[138] and permitted ingress and egress for the audience at two additional points. The Athenian theater was somewhat unusual in having these upper entrances.

See p. 65, n. 2]

About 465 B.C., as the plays indicate,[139] a wooden scene-building was set up behind the orchestra, where the declivity had been.[140] The front of this was probably pierced by three doors, which might be conventionally thought of as leading to as many different buildings, and thus the number of entrances available for the actors’ use was more than doubled. This seemingly simple alteration produced profound changes in dramatic technique (see pp. 228-31, below). The scene-building of this period must be thought of as quite unpretentious: its material was wood, it probably consisted of but a single story, and I think it had neither parascenia nor a columned proscenium (Fig. 74; see p. 235, below). Its construction was flimsy enough for it to be capable of being easily rebuilt or remodeled to meet the scenic requirements of each drama, for of course it was not until long after the introduction of a scenic background that the plays were uniformly laid before a palace or temple. According to Aristotle, Sophocles was the inventor of scene-painting, and this is also said to have been invented during the lifetime of Aeschylus.[141] If these notices are correct, we must suppose that scene-painting was invented in the decade ending in 458 B.C. and so under theatrical conditions such as have just been described. This would mean that at first the scenery must have been attached directly to the scene-building itself and not inserted between the intercolumniations of the proscenium columns.

The next building in the precinct seems to have been the later temple, slightly south of the earlier one (Fig. 32). Its substructure was of breccia (conglomerate), and its erection must be assigned to about the last quarter of the fifth century B.C.[142] An image of Dionysus by Alcamenes found its home here.

See p. 67, n. 2]

Of the same material are the foundations of the parascenia and of the front and back walls of the scene-building (Fig. 35),[143] and perhaps they are to be assigned to the same period as the temple which has just been mentioned.[144] The superstructure was still of wood, since the wide variation of scenic setting called for a background which could readily be adapted to changing needs. It is likely that the ten square holes in the rear foundation wall (Fig. 38) were intended to receive the supporting beams of such an adjustable structure.[145] Probably the scene-building now rose to a second story, a supposition which is confirmed by the use of the crane or μηχανή (“machine”) in the extant plays of this period (see pp. 289 and 292 f., below). At about the same time a proscenium (also of wood) was erected before the parascenia and the intermediate front of the scene-building (see pp. 235 f., below), and painted panels of scenery could be fastened between its intercolumniations. In my opinion, we must suppose that such a proscenium stood far enough removed from the front of the scene-building[146] so that, when there was no occasion to fill the intercolumniations with panels, a porch or portico was automatically produced (its floor probably raised a step or two above the orchestra level), in which semi-interior scenes might be enacted (see pp. 238 f., below). It has even been maintained that a projecting vestibule was sometimes built out from the center of the proscenium in order to provide additional space of a semi-private sort (see pp. 236 f., below and Fig. 73). Of course, no foundations for such a structure are found either at this period or subsequently, for the reason that permanent foundations for something which was only occasionally employed would have been unsightly and in the way for the greater part of the time. No fragments belonging to the orchestra of this period have been discovered (see next paragraph and p. 73). Moreover, the seating arrangements belong to the Lycurgus theater of the next century. Fortunately, however, there can be no doubt as to the relative position of these parts: it is apparent that the whole theater has been pushed some fifty feet farther north (Fig. 32), and the causes of this alteration are not hard to guess. In the first place, room was thus secured for the scene-building without occupying the space immediately in front of the earlier temple of Dionysus. In the second place, the slope of the Acropolis could now be employed more extensively as a support for the seats of the spectators. There are no means of determining whether this slight change in site was made at this period or about 465 B.C., when the first scene-building was erected.

THEATER OF DIONYSUS IN ATHENS, LOOKING NORTH; CHOREGIC MONUMENT OF THRASYLLUS IN THE BACKGROUND

_Copyright, Underwood & Underwood_]

THEATER OF DIONYSUS IN ATHENS, LOOKING NORTH AND WEST

_Copyright, Underwood & Underwood_]