6
Greek Drama & Poetry
Agamemnon
The play opens at the palace of King Agamemnon of
Argos. A Watchman
stands waiting, then spots a beacon in the distance
signalling that the Greeks have conquered Troy. He is overjoyed and
runs off to tell Agamemnon's wife Clytemnestra. The Chorus speaks of
the war, and of
how Agamemnon had sacrificed his daughter Iphigenia in order
to get a fair wind when setting off for Troy ten years before.
At that time Calchas the prophet spoke of a curse.
The Chorus has doubts but a herald arrives to
confirm the message. The
herald speaks of the horrors of the war and of how much the
men missed their homeland.
Clytemnestra enters.
She tells the herald to go tell Agamemnon how much she
missed him and that she has been true to him.
Agamemnon enters in a chariot with Cassandra, the
daughter of Priam beside him.
Clytemnestra enters and pledges her love to Agamemnon
before everyone. She
orders her handmaidens to lay rich purple cloth before
Agamemnon's feet (an honour likely to lead him into hubris /
pride). Agamemnon
refuses to walk on it, saying that he is merely a man, not a
god. Clytemnestra
convinces him to walk into his house on the cloth, but he
takes his sandals off first.
Agamemnon and Clytemnestra enter the house.
Cassandra stays behind in the chariot. Clytemnestra comes
back out of the house and tells Cassandra to come inside. Cassandra does not
respond, and Clytemnestra goes back inside. Cassandra cries out
to Apollo, laments her capture and prophesies her own death
together with Agamemnon at the hands of Clytemnestra. Cassandra tells the
chorus of how Apollo granted her the gift of prophesy, but
when she refused his advances, he ordained that nobody would
ever believe her. Cassandra enters the house.
The Chorus hears Agamemnon cry out inside the
house. They debate whether to rush in or wait for
reinforcements. The
doors open to reveal Clytemnestra standing over the bodies of
Agamemnon and Cassandra.
Clytemnestra explains that the killing of Agamemnon was
revenge for his sacrifice of their daughter at the start of
the war.
Aegisthus enters with his bodyguard. He is happy to see
Agamemnon's body, explaining that it was justice for what
Agamemnon's father (Atreus) had done to his father (Thyestes). (Thyestes had
challenged Atreus for the throne. Thyestes was driven
from the city. When
he returned, Atreus held a feast for him and served Thyestes'
children to him for dinner.)
Aegisthus admits to conceiving of the plot to
kill Agamemnon and to having slept with Clytemnestra while
Agamemnon was away at war.
The Chorus calls him a coward. He tells them that
he plans to become king then threatens the Chorus, who draw
their swords, ready to fight.
Clytemnestra begs Aegisthus not to shed anymore blood.
The Chorus tells him that he will be sorry when Agamemnon's
son Orestes returns. Aegisthus
tells them they will be sorry for their insolence. Aegisthus and
Clytemnestra enter the house together.
Coephori (The Libation Bearers)
Agamemnon's son Orestes arrives home with his
friend Pylades. They
visit Agamemnon's grave.
Orestes lays a lock of his hair on the grave. They hide when they
see Agamemnon's daughter Electra arriving at the gravesite
with the chorus. Electra
asks how she should grieve. The chorus responds by telling her
to pray for the health of herself and Orestes and for the
death of those who killed her father. She does. The chorus prays
that a strong man will come to avenge Agamemnon's death. Electra sees the
hair and remarks that it is just like hers. She and the chorus
decide it must be Orestes'.
She also notices footprints that look much like hers.
Orestes reveals himself. Electra doesn't
recognize him at first, but when she does, they speak. Orestes tells how
Apollo's oracle told him that he must avenge his father's
death or die. Orestes,
Electra and the chorus lament, then turn to thoughts of
revenge.
Orestes and Pylades arrive at the city gates and
cry to be let in as friendly visitors bearing important news. Clytemnestra asks
for details. Orestes
says that he has news of Orestes' death. She lets them in.
Orestes' old nurse, Cilissa, enters in tears. She tells the Chorus
that Clytemnestra told her the news and asked her to summon
Aegisthus so that he might hear it directly from the
travellers. Cilissa
says that Clytemnestra feigned grief, but she could tell that
she was truly happy at the prospect of Orestes' death. Cilissa tells the
Chorus that she is to tell Aegisthus to bring his bodyguards
with him. They
tell her not to mention this, and hint that Orestes may still
be alive. Cilissa
exits. The Chorus
pleads with Zeus to protect Orestes.
Aegisthus enters and asks the Chorus if it knows
of the report of Orestes' death.
They suggest that he should hear it directly from the
traveller. Aegisthus
exits. A cry is
heard from inside the house.
A servant enters, announcing that Aegisthus has been
killed. Clytemnestra
enters and is told that Orestes lives and has killed
Aegisthus. She
calls for an ax. Orestes and Pylades enter with swords drawn.
Clytemnestra
Woe, woe! Aegisthus, spouse and champion, slain!
Orestes
What, lovest the man? then in his grave lie down,
Be his in death, desert him nevermore!
Clytemnestra
Stay, child, and fear to strike. O son, this breast
Pillowed thine head full oft, while, drowsed with
sleep,
Thy toothless mouth drew mother's milk from me.
Orestes
Can I my mother spare? speak, Pylades.
Pylades
Where then would fall the order Apollo gave
At Delphi,
where the solemn compact sworn?
Choose thou the hate of all men, not of gods.
Orestes
Thou dost prevail; I hold thy counsel good.
Follow; I will slay thee at his side.
With him whom in his life thou loved'st more
Than Agamemnon, sleep in death, the meed
For hate where love, and love where hate was due!
Clytemnestra
I nursed thee young; must I forego mine old age?
Orestes
Thou slew'st my father; shalt thou dwell with me?
Clytemnestra
Fate bore a share in these things, O my child
Orestes
Fate also doth provide this doom for thee.
Orestes and Pylades take her inside. The doors of
the house open to reveal Orestes and Pylades standing over the
bodies of Clytemnestra and Aegisthus. Orestes says that he
feels compelled to leave.
The chorus begs him to stay. Orestes leaves. The chorus wishes
him well.
Eumenides (The Kind Ones)
The play opens in Delphi before the sanctuary of
Apollo. The
Pythia (priestess of Apollo) enters. She enters the
temple and comes back out almost immediately. She tells of a
terrible vision of a man holding a bloody sword and standing
before a group of sleeping hideous monsters of unknown origin. The doors of the
temple open to show Orestes surrounded by the sleeping Furies
(the Eumenides), Apollo and Hermes beside him.
Apollo tells Orestes that he must travel to the
temple of Athena in Athens, and that there he will be judged. Until then the
Furies will relentlessly pursue him. Apollo promises to
protect him (as he has now by putting the Furies to sleep)
since it was Apollo who made Orestes kill his mother. Apollo asks Hermes
(the god who guides) to watch over Orestes on his journey. Apollo leaves, then
Orestes, guided by Hermes.
The ghost of Clytemnestra enters. She wakes the Furies
(who also serve as the chorus).
They curse Apollo for helping Orestes to get away. The scene moves to
Athens before the temple of Athena. Orestes enters,
announcing that he has come to be judged. The Furies enter and
see Orestes. Orestes
calls on Athena to set him free. Athena enters in full armour. The chorus presents
its case. Orestes
presents his. Athena
says that the case is too serious for her to try. She will assemble a
jury of her finest citizens to judge the case.
Athena re‑enters, guiding the citizens chosen as jurors.
Apollo enters, announcing that he has come to testify. Orestes admits to
killing his mother at the instruction of Apollo (though he
does not blame Apollo). Orestes asks Apollo to defend him. Apollo says that
Orestes' actions were Zeus' will. Athena announces
that in the case of a tie, her vote will decide the issue, and
that she votes for Orestes.
The votes come out equal, so Orestes wins. Orestes thanks
Apollo and Athena and vows that as long as he lives, and to
the extent he can after death, he will ensure that his people
are always on the side of the Athenians. Orestes and Apollo
exit.
The Furies, upset at begin overruled by the
younger gods, vows to cause suffering throughout the land. Athena says that she
will grant them a home under the city. The Furies ask about
the place she would give them.
Athena agrees to give them the power that no house will
be prosperous without their will. The Furies accept
the offer of a home at Athena's side and the play ends in a
Hymn of Blessing.
Prometheus Bound
The strange, isolated play about Prometheus is
one of the greatest works of literature that exist. The unbowed dignity
of the Titan Prometheus, bound to a rock and tormented by
Zeus, is equalled by some of the cries of Job in the Old
Testament. Our
sympathy for Prometheus is required by his role of benefactor,
it is he who has given fire to men.
At the start of the play Hephaestus binds the
silent Prometheus to a rock in the Scythian wilderness for
having defied Zeus and given fire and hope to men, after
helping Zeus overthrow his father Cronos. He speaks alone
before the arrival of the Chorus composed of the Oceanides,
daughters of the Titan Oceanus.
Prometheus
O divine air Breezes on swift bird‑wings,
Ye river fountains, and of ocean‑waves
The multitudinous laughter Mother Earth!
And thou all‑seeing circle of the sun,
Behold what I, a God, from Gods endure!
Look down upon my shame,
The cruel wrong that racks my frame,
The grinding anguish that shall waste my strength,
Till time's ten thousand years have measured out their
length!
He hath devised these chains,
The new throned potentate who reigns,
Chief of the chieftains of the Blest. Ah me!
The woe which is and that which yet shall be
I wail; and question make of these wide skies
When
shall the star of my deliverance rise.
And yet‑and yet‑exactly I foresee
All that shall come to pass; no sharp surprise
Of pain shall overtake me; what's determined
Bear, as I can, I must, knowing the might
Of strong Necessity is unconquerable.
But touching my fate silence and speech alike
Are insupportable. For boons bestowed
On mortal men I am straitened in these bonds.
I sought the fount of fire in hollow reed
Hid privily, a measureless resource
For man, and mighty teacher of all arts.
This is the crime that I must expiate
Hung here in chains, nailed 'neath the open sky. Ha!
Ha!
What echo, what odour floats by with no sound?
God‑wafted or mortal or mingled its strain?
Comes there one to this world's end, this mountain‑girt ground,
To have sight of my torment? Or of what is he fain?
A God ye behold in bondage and pain,
The foe of Zeus and one at feud with all
The deities that find
Submissive entry to the tyrant's hall;
His fault, too great a love of humankind.
Ah me! Ah me! what wafting wings
As of great birds of prey, is this I hear?
The bright air fanned
Whistles and shrills with rapid beat of wings.
There cometh nought but to my spirit brings
Horror and fear.
The Chorus enters,
Prometheus tells of Zeus' anger.
Prometheus
I took from man expectancy of death.
Chorus
What medicine found'st thou for this malady?
Prometheus
I planted blind hope in the heart of him.
Chorus
A mighty boon thou gavest there to man.
Prometheus
Moreover, I conferred the gift of fire.
Chorus
And have frail mortals now the flame‑bright fire?
Prometheus
Yea, and shall master many arts thereby.
Chorus
And Zeus with such misfeasance charging thee‑
Prometheus
Torments me with extremity of woe.
Oceanus himself comes, and tries to convince Prometheus
that he should submit to Zeus. He refuses, then tells the
Chorus how he brought civilization to humanity:
Prometheus
In the beginning, seeing they saw amiss,
And hearing heard not, but, like phantoms huddled
In dreams, the perplexed story of their days
Confounded; knowing neither timber‑work
Nor brick‑built dwellings basking in the light,
But dug for themselves holes, wherein like ants,
That hardly may contend against a breath,
They dwelt in burrows of their unsunned caves.
Neither of winter's cold had they fixed sign,
Nor of the spring when she comes decked with flowers,
Nor yet of summer's heat with melting fruits
Sure token: but utterly without knowledge
Moiled, until I the rising of the stars
Showed
them, and when they set, though much obscure.
Moreover, number, the most excellent
Of all inventions, I for them devised,
And gave them writing that retaineth all,
The serviceable mother of the Muse.
I
was the first that yoked unmanaged beasts,
To serve as slaves with collar and with pack,
And take upon themselves, to man's relief,
The heaviest labour of his hands: and
Tamed to the rein and drove in wheeled cars
The horse, of sumptuous pride the ornament.
And those sea‑wanderers with the wings of cloth,
The shipman's waggons, none but I contrived.
These manifold inventions for mankind
I perfected, who, out upon't, have none‑
No, not one shift‑to rid me of this shame.
Chorus
Thy sufferings have been shameful, and thy mind
Strays at a loss: like to a bad physician
Fallen sick, thou art out of heart: nor canst prescribe
For thine own case the draught to make thee sound.
Prometheus
But hear the sequel and the more admire
What arts, what aids I cleverly evolved.
The chiefest that, if any man fell sick,
There was no help for him, comestible,
Lotion or potion; but for lack of drugs
They dwindled quite away; until I taught them
To compound draughts and healing mixtures
Wherewith they now are armed against disease.
I staked the winding path of divination
And was the first distinguisher of dreams,
The true from false; and voices ominous
Of meaning dark interpreted; and tokens
Seen when men take the road; and augury
By flight of all the greater crook‑clawed birds
With nice discrimination I defined;
These by their nature fair and favourable,
Those, flattered with fair name. And of each sort
The habits I described; their mutual feuds
And friendships and the assemblages they hold.
And of the plumpness of the inward parts
What colour is acceptable to the Gods,
The well‑streaked liver‑lobe and gall‑bladder.
Also by roasting limbs well wrapped in fat
And the long chine, I led men on the road
Of dark and riddling knowledge; and I purged
The glancing eye of fire, dim before,
And made its meaning plain. These are my works.
Then, things beneath the earth, aids hid from man,
Brass, iron, silver, gold, who dares to say
He was before me in discovering?
None, I know well, unless he loves to babble.
And in a single word to sum the whole‑
All manner of arts men from Prometheus learned.
Chorus
Shoot not beyond the mark in succouring man
While thou thyself art comfortless: for
Am of good hope that from these bonds escaped
Thou shalt one day be mightier than Zeus.
Prometheus
Fate, that brinks all things to an end, not thus
Apportioneth my lot: ten thousand pangs
Must bow, ten thousand miseries afflict me
Ere from these bonds I freedom find, for Art
Is by much weaker than Necessity.
Prometheus knows the secret of a threat to Zeus,
but refuses to reveal it, although Zeus will set him free if
he does. Io enters, pursued by flies and ghosts, transformed
into a cow by Hera's jealousy for having been loved by Zeus.
Prometheus tells her of her future destiny, of long journeys
and immense suffering; at the same time he hints at the secret
he knows, that if Zeus marries the wrong person, the child of
that marriage will overthrow him. Io pursues her journey, maddened. Hermes
comes to demand Prometheus's submission, in vain. He warns of
Zeus's increased punishment but Prometheus remains adamant:
Prometheus
These are stale tidings I foreknew;
Therefore, since suffering is the due
A foe must pay his foes,
Let curled lightnings clasp and clash
And close upon my limbs: loud crash
The thunder, and fierce throes
Of savage winds convulse calm air:
The embowelled blast earth's roots uptear
And toss beyond its bars,
The rough surge, till the roaring deep
In one devouring deluge sweep
The pathway of the stars
Finally, let him fling my form
Down whirling gulfs, the central storm
Of being; let me lie
Plunged in the black Tartarean gloom;
Yet‑yet‑his sentence shall not doom
This deathless self to die!
As the play ends, he sinks into the ground to
endure the punishment ordained, together with the Oceanides.
It seems that in the lost later plays of the trilogy he was
free and had told Zeus how to avoid the danger threatening
him, but no story tells how his punishment was brought to an
end.
Sophocles
Born in 496, died in 406, Sophocles wrote some
120 plays, won the first prize 18 times, 7 of his plays
survive: "Antigone", "Oedipus", "Electra", "Ajax",
"Trachiniae" (The Death of Heracles), "Philoctetes", and
"Oedipus at Colonus". While
Aeschylus is deeply religious, Sophocles shows a human
individual at the centre, choosing to act, then assuming the
consequences of that choice.
The role of the Chorus is less developed than in
Aeschylus, while the dialogue in Sophocles is more 'realistic'
and 'psychological' than in Aeschylus; the plays offer more
detailed psychology, although always of a heroic kind. Antigone and Electra
are noble female figures, gentle and full of courage. Sophocles' dramas
have great simplicity, all is reduced to its noblest human
essence. He was
much admired by Racine, by Lessing; Shelley drowned with a
book of his works in his pocket.
He is the most frequently acted of the three in modern
times.
Oedipus the King
(c. 427 B.C.)
The play opens in front of the palace of Oedipus
at Thebes. Oedipus
asks a priest and his supplicants what they want. The priest thanks
him for saving them from the Sphinx, but tells him that the
city needs saving again from a plague that has descended. Oedipus says that he
has sent a messenger to Apollo's shrine to find out what he
must do to save the city.
The messenger arrives and says that Apollo told him
that the man who murdered former King Laius must be discovered
and driven from the land.
Oedipus vows to do so.
Oedipus asks anyone knowing the identity of the
murderer to step forward without fear of harm. He curses those who
have knowledge and do not step forth. The chorus says he
should ask the prophet Teiresias. Teiresias enters. He says he knows
something but refuses to speak.
Oedipus accuses Teiresias of having a part in the
murder. Teiresias
accuses Oedipus of being the murderer. Oedipus concludes
that former king Creon must have put Teiresias up to making
the accusations. Teiresias
tells Oedipus that his downfall will come when he learns the
secret of his marriage, and asks him if he knows who his
parents are. Oedipus
orders him out of the house.
Teiresias tells him that the murderer will be proved
both father and brother to his children. Teiresias and
Oedipus leave separately.
Creon enters, denying the allegations that he has
heard Oedipus made. Oedipus
enters and accuses Creon of being the murderer and trying to
take the throne. Creon
denies this. Oedipus
proposes to kill Creon. Oedipus'
wife, Jocasta,
enters. Everyone,
including Jocasta, begs Oedipus to spare Creon on the strength
of Creon's oath that he is innocent. Oedipus consents,
but pledges to forever hate Creon. Creon exits. Oedipus
tells Jocasta that Creon had sent the prophet to accuse him of
the murder.
Jocasta
Then you may ease your conscience on that score.
Listen and I'll convince you that no man
Hath scot or lot in the prophetic art.
Here is the proof in brief. An oracle
Once came to Laius (I will not say
'Twas from the Delphic god himself, but from
His ministers) declaring he was doomed
To perish by the hand of his own son,
A child that should be born to him by me.
Now Laius‑‑so at least report affirmed‑‑
Was murdered on a day by highwaymen,
No natives, at a spot where three roads meet.
As for the child, it was but three days old,
When Laius, its ankles pierced and pinned
Together, gave it to be cast away
By others on the trackless mountain side.
So then Apollo brought it not to pass
The child should be his father's murderer,
Or the dread terror find accomplishment,
And Laius be slain by his own son.
Such was the prophet's horoscope. O king,
Regard it not. Whate'er the god deems fit
To search, himself unaided will reveal.
Oedipus
What memories, what wild tumult of the soul
Came o'er me, lady, as I heard you speak!
Jocasta
What mean you? What has shocked and startled you?
Oedipus
Methought I heard you say that Laius
Was murdered at the meeting of three roads.
Jocasta
So ran the story that is current still.
Oedipus
Where did this happen? Dost you know the place?
Jocasta
Phocis the land is called; the spot is where
Branch roads from Delphi and from Daulis meet.
Oedipus
And how long is it since these things befell?
Jocasta
'Twas but a brief while ere you were proclaimed
Our country's ruler that the news was brought.
Oedipus
O Zeus, what have you willed to do with me!
Jocasta
What is it, Oedipus, that moves you so?
Oedipus
Ask me not yet; tell me the build and height
Of Laius? Was he still in manhood's prime?
Jocasta
Tall was he, and his hair was lightly strewn
With silver; and not unlike you in form.
Oedipus
O woe is me! Mehtinks unwittingly
I laid but now a dread curse on myself.
Jocasta
What say you? When I look upon you, my king,
I tremble.
Oedipus
'Tis a dread presentiment
That in the end the seer will prove not blind.
One further question to resolve my doubt.
Jocasta
I quail; but ask, and I will answer all.
Oedipus
Had he but few attendants or a train
Of armed retainers with him, like a prince?
Jocasta
They were but five in all, and one of them
A herald; Laius in a mule‑car rode.
Oedipus
Alas! 'tis clear as noonday now. But say,
Lady, who carried this report to Thebes?
Jocasta
A serf, the sole survivor who returned.
Oedipus
Haply he is at hand or in the house?
Jocasta
No, for as soon as he returned and found
You reigning in the stead of Laius slain,
He clasped my hand and supplicated me
To send him to the alps and pastures, where
He might be farthest from the sight of Thebes.
And so I sent him. 'Twas an honest slave
And well deserved some better recompense.
Oedipus
Fetch him at once. I want to see the man.
Jocasta
He shall be brought; but wherefore summon him?
Oedipus
Lady, I fear my tongue has overrun
Discretion; therefore I would question him.
Jocasta
Well, he shall come, but may not I too claim
To share the burden of your heart, my king?
Oedipus
And you shall not be frustrate of your wish.
Now my imaginings have gone so far.
Who has a higher claim that you to hear
My tale of dire adventures? Listen then.
My sire was Polybus of Corinth, and
My mother Merope, a Dorian;
And I was held the foremost citizen,
Till a strange thing befell me, strange indeed,
Yet scarce deserving all the heat it stirred.
A roisterer at some banquet, flown with wine,
Shouted "Thou art not true son of thy sire."
It irked me, but I stomached for then
The insult; on the morrow I sought out
My mother and my sire and questioned them.
They were indignant at the random slur
Cast on my parentage and did their best
To comfort me, but still the venomed barb
Rankled, for still the scandal spread and grew.
So privily without their leave I went
To Delphi, and Apollo sent me back
Baulked of the knowledge that I came to seek.
But other grievous things he prophesied,
Woes, lamentations, mourning, portents dire;
To wit I should defile my mother's bed
And raise up seed too loathsome to behold,
And slay the father from whose loins I sprang.
Then, lady,‑‑thou shalt hear the very truth‑‑
As I drew near the triple‑branching roads,
A herald met me and a man who sat
In a car drawn by colts‑‑as in thy tale‑‑
The man in front and the old man himself
Threatened to thrust me rudely from the path,
Then jostled by the charioteer in wrath
I struck him, and the old man, seeing this,
Watched till I passed and from his car brought
down
Full on my head the double‑pointed goad.
Yet was I quits with him and more; one stroke
Of my good staff sufficed to fling him clean
Out of the chariot seat and laid him prone.
And so I slew them every one. But if
Betwixt this stranger there was aught in common
With Laius, who more miserable than I,
What mortal could you find more god‑abhorred?
Wretch whom no sojourner, no citizen
May harbor or address, whom all are bound
To harry from their homes. And this same curse
Was laid on me, and laid by none but me.
Yea with these hands all gory I pollute
The bed of him I slew. Say, am I vile?
Am I not utterly unclean, a wretch
Doomed to be banished, and in banishment
Forgo the sight of all my dearest ones,
And never tread again my native earth;
Or else to wed my mother and slay my sire,
Polybus, who begat me and upreared?
If one should say, this is the handiwork
Of some inhuman power, who could blame
His judgment? But, ye pure and awful gods,
Forbid, forbid that I should see that day!
May I be blotted out from living men
Ere such a plague spot set on me its brand!
A messenger arrives and tells Jocasta that Oedipus'
father Polybus has died and the Corinthians want Oedipus as
their king now. Jocasta sends for Oedipus and tells him the
good news ‑‑ his father is dead, and it is not at Oedipus'
hand. Oedipus is comforted, but he is still afraid that he is
fated to sleep with Polybus' wife. He tells the
messenger his fear. The messenger tells him not to worry, that
he has no blood-tie with his 'parents'. The messenger had
received Oedipus from a shepherd as an abandoned baby and had
given him to them. The chorus believes the messenger is
referring to the shepherd that Oedipus wanted to see. Jocasta
begs Oedipus not to seek the truth. Oedipus sends for
the shepherd. Jocasta exits.
The old shepherd enters. The messenger asks if he
remembers giving him a child. The shepherd remembers, but
doesn't want to tell the tale. Oedipus has his men twist the
shepherd's arm and threatens him with death if he does not
tell all. He tells of how Laius' wife gave him the child to do
away with. Oedipus cries out that he is cursed. All exit but
the chorus.
Chorus
Races of mortal man
Whose life is but a span,
I count ye but the shadow of a shade!
For he who most doth know
Of
bliss, hath but the show;
A moment, and the visions pale and fade.
Thy fall, O Oedipus, thy piteous fall
Warns me none born of women blest to call.
For he of marksmen best,
O Zeus, outshot the rest,
And won the prize supreme of wealth and power.
By him the vulture maid
Was quelled, her witchery laid;
He rose our savior and the land's strong tower.
We hailed thee king and from that day adored
Of mighty
Thebes the universal lord.
O heavy hand of fate!
Who now more desolate,
Whose tale more sad than thine, whose lot more dire?
O Oedipus, discrowned head,
Thy cradle was thy marriage bed;
One
harborage sufficed for son and sire.
How could the soil thy father eared so long
Endure to bear in silence such a wrong?
All‑seeing Time hath caught
Guilt, and to justice brought
The son and sire commingled in one bed.
O child of Laius' ill‑starred race
Would I had never beheld thy face;
I raise for thee a dirge as o'er the dead.
Yet, sooth to say, through thee I drew new breath,
And
now through thee I feel a second death.
A second messenger enters and announces that
Jocasta has hanged herself.
When Oedipus came upon the body, he tore her brooches
off and gouged them into his own eyes, crying that they will
never see the crime he has committed. The messenger says
that Oedipus wants to show himself to the people of Thebes,
and then leave the city forever.
The doors open, and blind Oedipus enters. The chorus expresses
their pity. Oedipus
cries out about his evil deeds and asks the chorus to lead him
away from the city or kill him.
Creon enters.
Oedipus asks Creon to drive him from the city. Creon wants to wait
for the gods to tell him what to do. Oedipus tells Creon
to bury his wife, to let him live on the mountain where he was
left as a child, and to take care of Oedipus' daughters. Oedipus' two
daughters enter. Oedipus
laments the difficult life they will lead now that their
ancestry is revealed. Oedipus
says that the gods hate him.
Creon and Oedipus leave together.
Chorus
Look ye, countrymen and Thebans, this is Oedipus the
great,
He who knew the Sphinx's riddle and was mightiest in
our state.
Who of all our townsmen gazed not on his fame with
envious eyes?
Now, in what a sea of troubles sunk and overwhelmed he
lies!
Therefore wait to see life's ending ere thou count one
mortal blest;
Wait till free from pain and sorrow he has gained his
final rest.
Antigone (c.
441 B.C.)
The play opens in Thebes, before the royal
palace. Antigone
and her sister Ismene, the daughters of Oedipus, enter. They are distraught
over the recent death in battle of their brothers at each
other's hands. Antigone
tells Ismene that king Creon has decreed that their brother
Eteocles will be buried and honoured in death, while their
brother Polyneices will be left unburied. Antigone tries to
convince Ismene to help her bury Polyneices against Creon's
orders. Ismene
refuses to break the law, but says that she won't tell.
Creon announces to the people his plans for the
brothers. He
explains that Eteocles died defending the city, while
Polyneices died attempting to destroy it. He commands the
Chorus not to take sides with any who may disobey his order. The Chorus agrees
that it would be foolish to do so. A very human guard
enters and tells Creon that someone has managed to bury the
body of Polyneices. Creon sends him to uncover the body. Soon
after, the guard returns, having caught Antigone re-burying
the corpse.
Antigone says that she was following the law of the
gods, not Creon's law. Creon
calls for Ismene because he believes she helped plan the
crime. Guards
bring Ismene out. She
says she is guilty if Antigone says she is. Antigone says Ismene
had no part. Creon's son Haemon (who was to marry Antigone)
tells his father that he supports him. Creon explains that
he must kill Antigone to set an example for others who might
disobey his laws. Haemon
tells Creon that the feeling among the citizens is that the
girl was wrongly condemned.
He asks Creon to reconsider his decree. The two then quarrel
about the justness of the decree. Creon calls to bring
her out so that he may kill her in front of Haemon. Haemon leaves before
she is brought out. Creon
tells the chorus that he plans to leave Antigone in a cave and
let her starve to death.
Antigone is led away to her death. Teiresias the
blind prophet enters and tells Creon that as a result of
Creon's decision, sacrificial fires will not burn, and rites
cannot be performed. Creon
holds to his decision. Teiresias tells him that he will be
cursed by the gods for his acts and that his son will die as a
result. Teiresias
leaves. Creon is
torn. He knows
that Teiresias is always accurate in his prophesies. The chorus convinces
Creon to change his mind.
Creon hurries off to free Antigone.
A messenger enters and tells the chorus that
Creon's son Haemon has killed himself and that it is Creon's
fault. Creon's
wife Eurydice enters from the palace. She has overheard
the news. The
messenger tells of how Creon and his party discovered that
Haemon had come before them to the cave and that he was crying
over the lifeless body of Antigone, who had hanged herself. Haemon then spat in
Creon's face and leaned on his own sword to kill himself. Eurydice goes back
inside in silence. Creon
and his men enter, carrying Haemon's body. Creon laments that
he has learned justice too late.
The messenger re‑enters and announces that Eurydice has taken her
own life. Creon
cries for his servants to take him away. He wishes for his
own death. Creon
and his men enter the palace.
The chorus comments that the gods control our destiny,
that we can only be happy through wisdom, and that men of
pride must often suffer greatly to earn wisdom.
Euripides
Born in Salamis in 480 (perhaps on the day of the
victory), died in Macedonia in 406, Euripides was
controversial in his time.
He wrote some 90 plays, of which 18 survive:
"Alcestis", "Medea", "Hippolytus", "The Trojan Women",
"Helen", "Orestes", "Iphigenia at Aulis", "The Bacchae",
"Andromache", "The Children of Heracles", "Hecuba", "The
Suppliants", "Electra", "The Madness of Heracles", "Iphigenia
in Tauris", "Ion", "Phoenissae"...
In almost all these plays the characters are
shown in situations of great stress and conflict, torn by
passions and affection. Euripides
challenges traditional ideas about gods and morality. Heroism
and beauty are admired; many of his finest characters are
women. His plots
favour surprise revelations, the Chorus has little contact
with the action. He
is the dramatist who comes closest to the emotions of
"ordinary life" and for Milton, he is the messenger of human
liberty.
Greek Comedy
Three or five comedies were performed at the
Dionysia each time, but we have no plays other than those of
Aristophanes from the Old Comedy (before 400). The New Comedy,
which influenced Plautus and Terence in Italy, is mainly
represented by Menander, whose works do not survive, except in
fragments.
Aristophanes
Born about 457, and dying around 385,
Aristophanes wrote over thirty plays, of which eleven survive. Their titles are
usually mysterious, designed to puzzle ("Birds", "Wasps",
"Clouds"), or else they indicate the identity of the speakers
in the chorus ("Babylonians", "Acharnians"). The Chorus plays a
major role in the comedies, speaking directly to the audience.
Some of the best-known of the plays, still often
acted, are:
The Birds, where the birds are persuaded to build
a city, Cloud-cuckooland, between earth and Olympus,
robbing the gods of their sacrifices. Messengers come from
earth and the gods and the result is a fantasy in which the
gods are the losers.
Lysistrata, produced in 411 at a time of great
difficulty for Athens in the war with Sparta. The women of both
sides decide to force the men to make peace by refusing to
sleep with them until peace is restored. They seize the
Parthenon, beating off an attack by the chorus of old men with
buckets of water. At
last the men give in, make peace, and all go off happy.
The Frogs, produced in 405, is about the merits
of the three tragedians.
All are now dead and Dionysus goes down to Hades to
bring one back. He
finds Euripides and Aeschylus competing for the throne of
Tragedy, Aeschylus wins because his words weigh more. The "frogs" sing as
Charon is ferrying Dionysus over into Hades.
The Clouds, of 423, is a satire aimed at
Socrates. It was
not successful, but Plato suggests that it prepared the public
hostility towards Socrates leading to his condemnation later.
The humour of Aristophanes is satiric, aimed at
aspects of contemporary Athens at first, made more
general in the later plays.
Nothing is sacred, powerful people, popular attitudes,
even the gods, are made to look foolish. The sympathy goes to
the "ordinary man" who wants a quiet life, the old pleasures. The plots are
usually based on a single absurd idea, which offers a
framework for various unrelated scenes. It is Menander and
the New Comedy that introduce "situation-comedy".
Greek drama continued to be written in the years
following the death of the great founders. The old classics
were revived and thousands of new tragedies were written
by those who wished to be "Hellenized", for the new
culture, centered in Egyptian Alexandria rather than in
Greece, was not one into which people were born, it was one
people came to learn, from all over the world. Others imitated the
New Comedy of Athens, which is mostly lost to us. Menander (343-292)
is the most famous name here.
His most famous line is "He whom the gods love, dies
young".
A century later, in Rome and writing in Latin,
Plautus (220-180?) and Terence (190-159) adapted the New
Comedy, with its social comedy of manners, for their world.
Their plays are usually about a young man needing the help of
a clever servant to gain the girl-friend's hand against the
father's unwillingness and the villainies of brothel-keepers
etc. Often the
girl is found to be the unrecognized daughter of a high-class
person, kidnapped or lost in childhood. These two writers
were studied and acted in the Renaissance, they inspired
Shakespeare and Jonson, as well as Moliere, and English
Restoration comedy.