INTRODUCTION

Some day a benefactor of his kind may prove beyond cavil that the problem of the origin of tragedy is as incapable of solution as is that of squaring the circle.—W. S. Burrage.INTRODUCTION

Some day a benefactor of his kind may prove beyond cavil that the problem of the origin of tragedy is as incapable of solution as is that of squaring the circle.—W. S. Burrage.

In undertaking to treat of a subject concerning hardly a detail of which can any statement be made without the possibility of dispute, the unfortunate necessity rests upon me of beginning with three topics which are the most controversial of all—the origin of tragedy, the origin of comedy, and the Greek theater. Instead of trying to conceal our ignorance on these matters by vague generalities, I shall set forth such data as are known, and attempt, clearly and frankly, to erect hypotheses to answer the questions that most naturally arise, even though this very striving for clearness and frankness will expose me to attack. I believe with Bacon that “truth emerges sooner from error than from confusion,” or, as a recent writer has expressed it, that “the definitizing of error is often the beginning of its disappearance.” Limits of space will require, at many points, a dogmatic statement of my views without stopping to examine the evidence from every angle. It must be understood, however, that no account of these subjects, whoever its author or however detailed his treatment, could find universal acceptance or anything approaching it.

The Origin of Tragedy.[12]—It is still the canonical doctrine, though its modern history goes back no farther than Welcker’sbook on theSatyrspielin 1826 and though no conclusive testimony for this view can be cited more ancient than Byzantine times, that satyric drama was the intermediate stage in the derivation of tragedy from the dithyramb. The argument runs somewhat as follows: The dithyramb was an improvisational song and dance in honor of Dionysus (Bacchus), the god of wine, and was performed by a band of men provided with goatlike horns, ears, hoofs, and tails and clad in a goatskin (or in a goat-hair loin-band) in imitation of Dionysus’ attendant sprites, the satyrs; on account of this costume the choreutae (members of the chorus) were sometimes calledtragoi, which is the Greek word for “goats”; in certain localities, as the dithyramb became quasi-literary and took on a dramatic element, its name was changed to satyric drama; still later, as these tendencies increased, especially through the addition of an actor, the satyr-play came to be calledtragoidia(“goat-song”), derived from the nickname applied to the caprine choreutae; the chorus still consisted of satyrs and, since these were licentious, bestial creatures, the performance was yet crude and undignified; Aeschylus (525-456B.C.) was possibly the first to abandon satyric choreutae and was certainly the first to raise tragedy to the rank of real literature; during the fifth century each poet was required to follow his group of three tragedies at the dramatic festival with a satyr-play as a concession to the satyric origin of the performance.

Fig. 2.—Sketch Map of Attica and the Peloponnesus, Showing Early Centers of Dramatic Activities in Greece.

In recent years, essential supports of this doctrine have slowly crumbled away before searching investigation; at present, scarcely a single clause in the foregoing sketch would escape unchallenged by some scholar of deserved standing. An ever-increasing number of students believe that tragedy is not the child of the satyr-play, but that the two are separate in their origin. Unfortunately, however, these dissenters, including such men as Dr. Emil Reisch of Vienna, Mr. Pickard-Cambridge of Oxford, Professor Wilhelm Schmid of Tübingen, and Professor William Ridgeway of Cambridge, though they are unanimous in rejecting Welcker’s hypothesis, cannot agree among themselves as to a constructive policy. My own view is that tragedy and satyric drama are independent offshoots of the same literarytype, the Peloponnesian dithyramb. The former came to Athens from Corinth and Sicyon by way of Icaria. Somewhat later the latter was introduced directly from Phlius by Pratinas, a native of that place. My reasons for these opinions will develop in the course of the discussion.

Very recently, notable efforts have been put forth to interpret the religious practices of the Greeks, partly in the light of anthropology and partly in accordance with the new psychological method which inquires, not what the god is, but what are the social activities and the social organization of his devotees. Whatever may be said for these avenues of approach in other respects, in practice those who employ them have shown more eagerness to assemble data which might be considered confirmatory of their theories than to reach an unprejudiced interpretation of the whole body of ancient evidence. Thus, much has been made of present-day carnivals in Thessaly, Thrace, and Scyrus,[13]and these ceremonies are employed as if they were assured survivals of the primitive rites from which Greek drama developed and as if their evidence were of greater value than the most firmly established data in the ancient tradition. Now the a priori possibility that these carnivals should retain their essential features unchanged through two and a half millenniums amid all the vicissitudes which have come upon these regions must be pronounced infinitesimal. And an examination of the details confirms this impression. Certain parts of the ceremonies are parodies of the Christian rites of marriage and burial. Not only an Arab but also a Frank appear in the cast of characters. Though Phrynichus is said to have been the first to represent female rôles,[14]such rôles abound in these modern plays. Yet there is another defect in this assumption which is still more serious. If there is one well-authenticated fact in the history of Greek drama, expressly stated in ancient notices and fully substantiated by the extantplays, it is that tragedy arose from a choral performance and only gradually acquired its histrionic features. On the contrary, these carnivals are predominantly histrionic; there is either no chorus or its rôle is distinctly secondary. Had Aristotle been guilty of such afaux pas, we can easily imagine the derisive comments in which modern investigators would have indulged at his expense.

Of course, our evidence is far from being as complete as we could wish, and must therefore be supplemented at many points by conjecture pure and simple; but this fact does not justify us in throwing all our data overboard and in beginningde novo. In this matter we have been too prone to follow a practice which the late Professor Verrall characterized, in a different connection, as follows: “We are perhaps too apt, in speculations of this kind, to help a theory by the convenient hypothesis of a wondrous simpleton, who did the mangling, blundering, or whatever it is that we require.”[15]Now, whatever may be true in other cases, Aristotle at least was no “simpleton,” competent only to mangle his sources of information; and furthermore, apart from certain ethnographic parallels which are of only secondary importance after all,[16]our fund of knowledge in this field is in no wise comparable with his. In fact, except for the extant plays our information is almost confined to what we derive, directly or indirectly, from him. Since this is so, what can be more absurd than to reject his conclusions and have recourse to unhampered conjecture?

But if we are to hold fast to Aristotle, one precaution is necessary—we must be sure that we do not make him say more or less than he does say. He wrote for a very different audience from that which now reads his words and with a very different purpose from that to which his book is now put. And these factors often render him enigmatical. This resulted also from his frequently assuming a familiarity with things which nowcannot always be taken for granted. As Professor Bywater expressed it: “It is clear from Aristotle’s confession of ignorance as to comedy that he knows more of the history of tragedy than he actually tells us, and that he is not aware of there being any serious lacuna in it.”[17]Thus, Aristotle says that tragedy was “improvisational by origin” and, more specifically, was derived “from the leaders of the dithyramb.”[18]Though this expression unhappily is somewhat lacking in precision, the main item, that the dithyramb is the parent of tragedy, emerges from any interpretation. Ridgeway may proceed to dissociate the dithyramb from Dionysus and to derive it from ceremonies at the tombs of heroes if he choose; however unwarranted, that is at least logical. But to ignore this statement of Aristotle’s and to seek, as many do, to trace tragedy back to δρώμενα (“ritual acts”) of various kinds by another line of development transgresses good philological practice.

There is an unfortunate facility in such attempts. Tragedy embraced many diverse elements in its material and technique. Accordingly, whatever anyone sets out to find, he can be almost certain of discovering there. Thus, Dieterich with his theory of the development of tragedy from funeral dirges, the Eleusinian mysteries, and various aetiological sources; Ridgeway with his tomb theory; Miss Harrison with her “Year Spirit” (the Eniautos-Daimon) and sympathetic magic; and Murray with his attempt to reconcile and expand the Dieterich-Harrison theories, all find confirmation for their views in the same body of dramatic literature. The very facility of such analyzing is its undoing.

Moreover, despite numerous attempts to the contrary, the real nature of the primitive dithyramb can scarcely be a matter of doubt. Plato, who was also no “simpleton,” defined it as asong in celebration of the birth of Dionysus.[19]Now since the dithyramb is known to have been opened up to a wider range of themes considerably before Plato’s time, his definition must apply to the original meaning of the term. This interpretation does not remain unsupported. Thus, the first extant instance of the words occurs in a fragment of Archilochus (ca.680-640B.C.), who declares that he “knows how, when his heart is crazed with wine, to lead lord Dionysus’ dithyramb.”[20]It should be observed that Archilochus does not say that he knows how to write a dithyramb, but how to take part in one as a drunken ἐξάρχων (“leader”). Such a performance was doubtless, as Aristotle said, largely improvisational, being perhaps coupled with the rendition of some ritual chant (καλὸν μέλος). Dionysus is characterized as θριαμβο-διθύραμβος (“celebrated in dithyrambs”) by Pratinas,[21]and addressed as διθύραμβος by Euripides in hisBacchanals, vs. 526. In an ode in honor of the victories which were won by Xenophon of Corinth in 464B.C.Pindar inquires, “Whence appeared the charms of Dionysus in connection with the ox-driving dithyramb?”[22]Here, also, the author is not referring to the Corinthian dithyramb of his own day but to the period whenit was put upon a quasi-literary level by Arion (see below). Finally, Epicharmus went so far as to declare that “when you drink water, it isn’t a dithyramb,”[23]showing that the more primitive meaning of the term was not crowded out by later developments. These passages are sufficient to show that the dithyramb was at all times intimately associated with Dionysus and at the beginning belonged to him exclusively; their force is not invalidated by the acknowledged fact that at an early period (seep. 11, below) the restriction was broken down.

It was not until after the middle of the seventh century that the dithyramb became “poetized.” This step was taken by Arion of Methymna in Lesbos, then resident in Corinth. His connection with the dithyramb and early tragedy is vouched for by irrefutable evidence. Solon of Athens (639-559B.C.) is said in a recently discovered notice[24]to have declared in hisElegiesthat “Arion introduced the first drama of tragedy.” The question immediately arises as to exactly what language Solon had employed. The words τῆς τραγῳδίας πρῶτον δρᾶμα are, of course, only a paraphrase, for no form of the word τραγῳδία can be used in elegiac verse. This objection does not lie against the word δρᾶμα, however, and it will be remembered that the Dorians based their claims to tragedy partly upon this non-Attic term.[25]. Thus, we obtain an explanation of the cumbersome circumlocution “the first drama of tragedy.” In Solon’sElegiesthe author of this notice (or his source) found only the ambiguous term δρᾶμα. A desire to retain the terminology of the original prevented his frankly substituting τραγῳδία. Accordingly, he kept δρᾶμα but inserted the qualifying genitive τῆς τραγῳδίας. I do not understand that Aristotle either indorses or rejects theDorian pretensions with respect to this word; but in view of our present evidence I am of the opinion that Arion called his performances “dramas” and was the first to use the word in this sense and that there is so much of justice in the Dorian claims. It is not necessary to believe, however, that they were ever calledsatyricdramas, seep. 22, below.

Now, Dr. Nilsson has objected that Solon would have had no occasion to express his opinion upon a matter of this kind (op. cit., p. 611, note). But the mention of the title of the work from which the citation purports to come goes far to substantiate its genuineness. Furthermore, Solon was incensed at Thespis (seepp. 17 f., below), and therefore it was only natural that he should take an interest in the matter, assign the distinction to another, and state his opinion in as public a manner as possible. The fact that he lived in the days before real (Aeschylean) tragedy and before the importance of Thespis’ innovations was understood explains the error in his judgment. But at the very least, this notice proves that the tradition of Arion’s connection with tragedy was current as early as the first half of the sixth century.

Pindar’s reference to the development of the dithyramb at Corinth has already been mentioned. In the next generation Herodotus characterized Arion as follows: “Arion was second to none of the harpists of that time and was the first of the men known to us to compose (ποιήσαντα) a dithyramb and to give it a name (ὀνομάσαντα) and to represent it at Corinth” (I, 23). It is customary nowadays to seek to explain such notices as arising from the rival claims of jealous cities; but be it noted that here are two Attic sympathizers, Solon and Herodotus, granting full recognition to the literary achievements of a neighboring city. In fact, Herodotus is apparently too generous, for Arion could not have been the inventor of the dithyramb, broadly speaking. But ποιεῖν denotes not only “to compose” but also “to poetize,” and the latter translation is in better accord with what else we know of Arion’s contribution to the history of the dithyramb. On the other hand, ὀνομάσαντα probably meansthat in Herodotus’ opinion Arion was the first to give names (titles) to his performances.[26]

A Byzantine writer repeats and amplifies Herodotus’ statements but adds one interesting clause to the effect that Arion “introduced satyrs speaking in meter.”[27]In this there is nothing surprising. In the Peloponnesus caprine satyrs were regular attendants upon Dionysus, and in consequence the dithyrambic choreutae must usually have been thought of as satyrs. Their improvisations, also, must always have engaged the speaking as well as the singing voice. This fact, however, did not at this time involve histrionic impersonation (μίμησις) for the reason that they would not attempt to say what was appropriate to satyrs but to themselvesin propria personaas revelers and worshipers. The word ἔμμετρα (“in meter”), therefore, is the important one. The use of meter marked the coming of artistic finish and the passing of a performance largely extemporaneous. Some idea of the technique of Arion’s productions may be drawn from a dithyramb by Bacchylides (first half of the fifth century) in honor of Theseus. This is in the form of a lyric dialogue and was doubtless influenced somewhat by contemporaneous tragedy. The chorus of Athenians, addressing Aegeus, king of Athens, inquires why a call to arms has been sounded (vss. 1-15), and thecoryphaeus(“chorus-leader”) replies that a herald has just arrived and summarizes his message (vss. 16-30). The chorus asks for further details (vss. 31-45), and once more the king’s reply is borrowed from the herald (vss. 46-60). Here Theseus, not Dionysus, is the theme of the poem; the choreutae do notrepresent satyrs, but appear in their true character as plain citizens of Athens; and the coryphaeus is given a dramatic character, that of Aegeus. These are all developments later than the time of Arion; nevertheless, the general effect must have been much the same.

Before the close of the sixth century the dithyramb had become a regular form of literature—a chorus of fifty, dancing and singing formal compositions. In 508B.C.a contest of dithyrambic choruses of men was made a standing feature of the program at the City Dionysia in Athens. Simonides (556-467B.C.) is known to have composed a dithyramb entitledMemnon, the exclusively Dionysiac character of the genre being then, if not earlier, abandoned. But it is important to remember that originally the dithyramb was extemporaneous and confined to the worship and exaltation of Dionysus.

In the new notice concerning Solon and Arion, von Wilamowitz finds “die Bestätigung dass die τραγῳδοί vor Thespis bestanden” (cf.op. cit., p. 470). This development could scarcely have taken place at Corinth in Arion’s time, for there was no need of coining a new word to designate the performers so long as they appeared as satyrs. And if a term had then been derived from the choreutae to designate their performance, it must have been *σατυρῳδία and not τραγῳδία. Neither could the new term have been derived at this period from theprize, for then the goat was only the third award.[28]Let us therefore turn to Sicyon.

In a well-known passage (v. 67) Herodotus tells how the Sicyonians used to honor their former king, Adrastus, in other ways, and in particular celebrated his sorrows with “tragic” (or “goat”) choruses (τραγικοῖσι χοροῖσι) and how their tyrant Clisthenes in anger at Adrastus assigned these choruses to Dionysus and the other features of the rites to Melanippus. Melanippus in his lifetime had killed Adrastus’ brother and son-in-law, and Clisthenes had brought his bones from Thebes and transferred to him part of the honors which had previouslybeen paid to Adrastus, in order to insult the latter as outrageously as possible. The superimposition of the worship of Dionysus upon that of the local hero and the reference to tragic choruses have furnished Ridgeway a foundation upon which to rear his theory that tragedy developed from ceremonies at the tombs of heroes. In this passage the meaning of the word τραγικοῖσι has provoked much discussion. I believe that Herodotus meant τραγικός here in the sense current in his own day, viz., tragic, but I do not believe that he stopped to consider whether these Sicyonian dances “were sufficiently like the choruses in the tragedies of his contemporaries to be called ‘tragic.’”[29]I think he employed that adjective simply because τραγικοὶ χοροί was the Sicyonians’ own designation for their performances. If so, whatever τραγικοῖσι χοροῖσι connoted to Herodotus, or even to contemporaneous Sicyonians, originally τραγικός in this phrase must have meant “goat,” and these choruses must originally have been, for whatever reason, “goat” choruses.

Some considered Epigenes of Sicyon the first tragic poet, Thespis being second (or as others thought, sixteenth) in the list.[30]In connection with Epigenes another tradition must be mentioned. Several explanations are preserved of the proverb oὐδὲν πρὸς τὸν Διόνυσον (“nothing to do with Dionysus”). These are somewhat vague in details and need not be taken too seriously; but at least they are valuable as showing the general periods in which their authors thought that the proper situation for the rise of such a proverb had existed. According to one account, this expression was uttered “when Epigenes had composed a tragedy in honor of Dionysus.”[31]In just what particular Epigenes’ performance seemed alien to the worship of Dionysus the retailers of the anecdote do not specify. Ridgeway supposesthat Epigenes “did not confine himself to Dionysiac subjects.”[32]But surely that development came much later. In my opinion, the explanation is simpler. We have no information as to the costume which the choreutae wore in honoring the sorrows of Adrastus. There was, of course, no reason for their appearing as satyrs. But were satyric choreutae introduced at the same time that the dances were given over to Dionysus? If we answer this question in the negative, the situation becomes clear. The audience, or part of it, was sufficiently acquainted with the performances instituted by Arion at Corinth to expect a chorus of satyrs in the Sicyonian dances after they were transferred to Dionysus. And when Epigenes brought on his choreutae in the same (non-satyric) costume as had previously been employed, they naturally manifested their surprise with the ejaculation: οὐδὲν πρὸς τὸν Διόνυσον. By this they meant: “Why, these choreutae are just what we have had all the time; there is nothing of the satyrs about them. They have nothing to do with Dionysus.”

Practically everyone is convinced that τραγῳδία means “goat-song.” The only difficulty consists in explaining how this name came to be applied. We have already noted (seep. 2, above) that Welcker explained it on the basis of costume, and this is now the prevailing view. But though the choreutae at Corinth were satyrs, there were good reasons why no new term should be coined there to designate them (seep. 11, above), and in fact, τραγῳδία, τραγῳδός (“goat-singer”), and τραγικός (in a technical sense) apparently did not originate there. On the other hand, in Sicyon (where at least the expression τραγικοὶ χοροί, if not the others, seems to have been in use at an early day) the costume of the choreutae was assuredly not caprine before the dances were transferred from Adrastus to Dionysus and probably was not thereafter. Consequently, Welcker’s explanation must be rejected.

But the earliest and favorite explanation of these terms in antiquity derived them from the fact that a goat was given to thevictorious poet as a prize.[33]Knowledge and approval of this interpretation can be traced almost uninterruptedly from the high authority of theParian Chronicle[34]in the third centuryB.C.onward, and there is no cogent reason for doubting its truth. The other suggestion that the name was derived from the goat which was offered in sacrifice in connection with the performances will be seen not to conflict with this view when it is remembered that in the later dithyrambic contests the prize (a tripod) was not regarded as the personal possession of the victor but was customarily consecrated in some temple or other public place. In my opinion, these explanations have been most unwarrantably abandoned in modern times, and I think a reaction in their favor has set in. They are spoken of respectfully by Dr. Reisch,[35]and Mr. Pickard-Cambridge mentions them exclusively.[36]

Now the transfer of the Sicyonian dances from Adrastus to Dionysus would probably happen early in the reign of Clisthenes (ca.595-560B.C.), and for this very period Eusebius preserves a notice to the effect that “a goat was given to contestants among the Greeks, and from this fact they were called τραγικοί.”[37]I therefore believe that Herodotus, Eusebius (Jerome), and Suidas all refer to the same event: that Clisthenes of Sicyon established the goat prize about 590B.C.when he surrendered to Dionysusthe dances which had previously been performed in honor of Adrastus,[38]that Epigenes was the poet whom Clisthenes employed to initiate this innovation, and that non-satyric choreutae and the terms τραγικός, τραγῳδός, etc., arose in this manner, time, and place. The neatness with which these notices fit together to produce this result renders them comparatively secure from the critical assault which might more successfully be directed against them individually. In any case, it is incumbent upon any skeptic, not merely to reject the later authorities, but also to provide a more satisfactory explanation of Herodotus.

If this series of conclusions is accepted, we have an answer to the question under consideration—the occasion of the term τραγῳδοί. We must conclude that honoring Adrastus with choruses either did not involve the giving of a prize or that the prize was other than a goat. With the transfer to Dionysus, a goat (for some reason) was chosen as the object of competition, and was doubtless immediately consumed in a sacrificial feast. We have seen that at Corinth, where the choreutae were satyrs, there was no reason to coin a new term to designate them. But at Sicyon the situation was different. What more natural than that from the new prize should be derived new names (τραγικοὶ χοροί and τραγῳδοί respectively) for the new-old performances and their choreutae.[39]It is not enough to pass this tradition of Sicyonian tragedy by in silence or to brand it as aetiological or as arising from the partisanship of rival cities. It must first be shown to be inconsistent, either with itself or with other established facts.

Hitherto we have dealt with the Peloponnesus, which was inhabited by the Dorian branch of the Greek stock; at this point we pass to Attica, which was Ionic. We are indebted to thelate Professor Furtwängler (op. cit., pp. 22 ff.) for having pointed out that among the Dorians the attendant sprites of Dionysus were caprine satyrs, but that among the Ionians he was attended by sileni, creatures with equine ears, hoofs, and tails. Caprine satyrs do not appear upon Attic vases until about 450B.C.(seep. 24, below). Although the sort of dances from which tragedy developed had existed in Attica from time immemorial,[40]yet they did not emerge into prominence and literary importance until the age of Thespis and in Icaria. Evidently Thespis’ innovations were partly borrowed from the Peloponnesus and partly his own. Included among the former would be the dropping of improvisation, the use of meter, the goat prize, and such terms as δρᾶμα and τραγῳδός. Most distinctive among the latter was his invention of the first actor. In early choral performances it was customary for the poet himself to serve as coryphaeus, and in Bacchylides’ dithyramb we have seen how the coryphaeus was set apart from the other choreutae, answering the questions which they propounded. It was inevitable that to someone should come the happy thought of developing this rôle still further and of promoting the coryphaeus to a position independent of the chorus. It is significant that the verb which was first used to designate the actor’s function was ἀποκρίνεσθαι (“to answer”), and that until the time of Sophocles all playwrights were actors in their own productions. We are now in a position to realize the true inwardness of Aristotle’s phrase: he does not say merely that tragedy was derived from the dithyramb but from the “leaders” of the dithyramb.

We have noted that the early dithyramb did not require impersonation (seep. 10, above). Even at an advanced stage it was probably much like a sacred oratorio of modern times in which the performers may sing words which are appropriate to characters and yet make no attempt by costume, gestures, or actions to represent those characters. Thespis changed all this.Since he assumed an actor’s rôle himself, first of all probably that of Dionysus, the choreutae could no longer conduct themselves as worshipers in disguise, but must now not merely look like real attendants of Dionysus but also behave as such. This is a fundamental matter. Only after this step had been taken could real drama in the modern sense become possible. Neither honoring the sorrows of Adrastus nor the “fore-doing” of imitative magic, not even the primitive δρώμενα at Eleusis or elsewhere demanded or presupposed actual impersonation. This development took place at Icaria and by the agency of Thespis. I cannot do better than to quote certain sentences of Miss Harrison’s:

We are apt to forget that from theepos, the narrative, to thedrama, the enactment, is a momentous step, one, so far as we know, not taken in Greece till after centuries of epic achievement, and then taken suddenly, almost in the dark, and irrevocably. All we really know of this momentous step is that it was taken sometime in the sixth centuryB.C.and taken in connection with the worship of Dionysus. Surely it is at least possible that the real impulse to the drama lay not wholly in “goat-songs” and “circular dancing places” but also in the cardinal, the essentially dramatic, conviction of the religion of Dionysus, that the worshipper can not only worship, but can become, canbe, his god. Athene and Zeus and Poseidon have no drama, because no one, in his wildest moments, believed he could become and be Athene or Zeus or Poseidon. It is indeed only in the orgiastic religions that these splendid moments of conviction could come, and, for Greece at least, only in an orgiastic religion did the drama take its rise.[41]

Thespis’ invention of impersonation probably provides the clue for understanding the clash between him and Solon:

Thespis was already beginning to develop tragedy, and on account of its novelty the matter was engaging general attention but had not yet beenbrought into a public contest. Now Solon, who by nature was fond of hearing and learning, to a still greater extent in old age gave himself up to leisurely amusement and even to conviviality and music. Therefore, he went to see Thespis himself act, as was customary for the earlier poets. And when the spectacle was over, Solon addressed him and inquired if he had no sense of shame to lie so egregiously before so many. Moreover, when Thespis said that it was no crime to say and enact such things in sport, Solon struck the ground violently with his staff and said: “Yet if we praise and honor this ‘sport’ under these circumstances, it will not be long before we discover it in our contracts.”[42]

To so straightforward a man as Solon such a facile abandonment of one’s own personality might well seem like barefaced lying, and to augur and even encourage similar shuffling prevarications in the more serious affairs of life.

To Ridgeway, however, all this appears in a different light. In the first place, after citing Diogenes Laertius to the effect that “in ancient times the chorus at first carried on the action in tragedy alone, but later Thespis invented an actor in order to allow the chorus intervals of relief,”[43]he declares flatly: “But this cannot mean, as is commonly held, that Thespis first separated in some degree the coryphaeus from the chorus and made him interrupt the dithyramb with epic recitations, for, as we have seen above, before his time the poet or coryphaeus used to mount a table and hold a dialogue with the chorus.”[44]In the cross-reference Ridgeway had quoted Pollux iv. 123: “The ἐλεός was a table in the olden days upon which in the period before Thespis some one mounted and made answer to the choreutae,” andEtymologicum Magnum,s.v.“θυμέλη”: “It was a table upon which they stood and sang in the country when tragedy had not yet assumed definite form.” These late notices are manifestly vague and inexact references to rudimentary histrionicism among the choreutae themselves or between them and their coryphaeus.The first of them is probably due to a false inference from a scene in some comedy.[45]It is true that the invention of the first actor is expressly attributed to Thespis only by Diogenes, yet it may be inferred in several other connections. Evidently the matter is largely one of definition. Ridgeway himself concedes all that is important, when he continues: “There seems no reason to doubt that Thespis in some way defined more exactly the position of the actor, especially by the introduction of a simple form of mask.”

In the second place, Ridgeway considers that Thespis made the “grand step” in the evolution of tragedy when he

detached his chorus and dithyramb from some particular shrine, probably at Icaria, his native place, and taking his company with him on wagons gave his performances on his extemporised stage when and where he could find an audience, not for religious purposes but for a pastime. Thus not merely by defining more accurately the rôle of the actor but also by lifting tragedy from being a mere piece of religious ritual tied to a particular spot into a great form of literature, he was the true founder of the tragic art. This view offers a reasonable explanation of Solon’s anger on first seeing Thespis act. A performance which he would have regarded as fit and proper when enacted in some shrine of the gods or at a hero’s tomb, not unnaturally roused his indignation when the exhibition was merely “for sport,” as Thespis himself said (and doubtless also for profit), and not at some hallowed spot, but in any profane place where an audience might conveniently be collected [op. cit., p. 61].

Not only does such an interpretation find no support in Plutarch’s anecdote but it is highly improbable as well. It may be granted that after long neglect Thespis’ “wagon”[46]seems to be enjoying a recrudescence of favor. Dieterich and von Wilamowitz have referred to it in all seriousness.[47]There is nothing improbable about the tradition nor any compelling reason for supposing it borrowed from the history of early comedy. It is natural to suppose that Thespis did not restrict his activities to Icaria, butextended them to such other demes as were interested or found them appropriate to their festivals. In that case, means of transportation for performers and accessories became imperative. The use of such a vehicle in thePrometheus Boundof Aeschylus shows that it need not necessarily have served also as a stage, as has sometimes been thought. Now, as a matter of fact, several Attic vases, dating from the close of the sixth century B.C., represent the “wagon-ship” of Dionysus (Fig. 65). Just what relationship subsisted between primitive drama and the scenes depicted upon these vases has yet to be definitely established. Dr. Frickenhaus would associate them with the preliminary procession at the City Dionysia (seep. 121, below). But at least, until such time as any connection with Thespis’ wagon has been shown to be impossible, the suggestion can scarcely be laughed out of court as utterly ridiculous. On the other hand, to suppose that Thespis entirely dissociated his performances from shrines and festivals not only rests upon no evidence but is so out of harmony with other data as to be incredible.

Whether the innovation of treating non-Dionysiac themes in tragedy must also be credited to Thespis before he brought his career to a close must remain a matter of doubt, though personally I am inclined to suppose so. Suidas[48]reportsPhorbas or the Prizes of Pelias,Priests,Youths, andPentheusas the titles of four of his plays. Of these the last is clearly Dionysiac, the first probably is not, and the other two are noncommittal. This evidence, however, cannot be relied upon, for the reason that Aristoxenus is said to have declared that Heraclides Ponticus wrote tragedies and attributed them to Thespis.[49]

But as we are not told that these plays bore the same titles as those ascribed to Thespis by Suidas, it does not by any means follow that the latter are spurious. But even if the titles were the same, it is not unlikely that Heraclides would have chosen as titles for his spurious compositionsnames declared by tradition to be those of genuine works of the Father of Attic Tragedy. The titles as they have reached us indicate that the ancients most certainly did not believe that Thespis confined himself to Dionysiac subjects.[50]

In any case, this development could not have been long deferred after 534B.C.To the more conservative it is said to have given offense; according to some authorities, the expression “Nothing to do with Dionysus” took its rise at this juncture.[51]Simultaneously, or at least only a little subsequently, the tragic choreutae were no longer dressed to represent sileni but whatever the needs of the individual play demanded, often plain citizens of Athens, Corinth, Thebes, etc.

Even after all that Thespis did for it tragedy must still have been a crude, coarse, only semi-literary affair. Nevertheless, in 534B.C., when Pisistratus, tyrant of Athens, established a new festival called the City Dionysia, in honor of Dionysus Eleuthereus,[52]he made a contest in tragedy the chief feature of its program. As was but fitting, Thespis won the first goat prize ever awarded in this Athenian festival.[53]It is unnecessary to enlarge upon this recognition except to protest against a not uncommon tendency to assume that terms like τραγῳδία and τραγῳδός were not in use before this date. Of course, the matter can not be definitely proved, but the evolution which I have been tracing at Sicyon and Icaria distinctly favors the other view.

We have seen that Aristotle’s statements ought not to be ignored or lightly rejected. On the other hand, it is no less important to read nothing into his language which does not belong there. Thus, when he declares: “Discarding shortstories and a ludicrous diction, through its passing out of its satyric stage, tragedy assumed, though only at a late point in its progress, a tone of dignity,”[54]the phrase διὰ τὸ ἐκ σατυρικοῦ μεταβαλεῖν ὀψὲ ἀπεσεμνύνθη has generally been taken to mean that tragedy developed out of a form like the satyric dramas known to us, in the next century, from Sophocles’Trackersand Euripides’Cyclops. For such a historical development no other testimony can be cited until Byzantine times (seep. 29andn. 2, below). Now this interpretation of Aristotle’s phrase has always involved certain difficulties and has been pronounced inconsistent with his other statement that tragedy developed “from the leaders of the dithyramb.” But in my opinion we must accept Reisch’s interpretation: “We are certainly not warranted in translating ἐκ σατυρικοῦ baldly as ‘from the satyr-play.’ On the contrary, Aristotle is speaking only of the ‘satyr-play-like origin’ and of the ‘satyr-like poetry’ (as Theodor Gomperz suitably renders it in his translation); and from this, first of all, only a family relationship between primitive tragedy and the satyr-play, not an identity, may be inferred.”[55]The same thought recurs in Aristotle’s next sentence, when he says: “The iambic measure then replaced the trochaic tetrameter, which was originally employedwhen the poetry was of the satyric order, and had greater affinities with dancing.”[56]In other words, though early Attic tragedy never received the name of “satyric drama,” and though its choreutae were probably sileni and not satyrs, nevertheless, since the Thespian and pre-Thespian performances, by reason of their obscenities, grotesque language, ludicrous andundignified tone, the predominance of choral odes, etc., bore a certain resemblance to the contemporaneous exhibitions of satyrs in the Peloponnesus and to Pratinas’ satyric drama in Athens at a later period, it can truthfully be said that tragedy had passed through a “satyric stage” and had had a “satyric” tinge which it was slow to lose.

What, then, was the origin of the performance which in the fifth century constituted the final member of tetralogies? Such tetralogies cannot be made out for any playwright before Aeschylus; and the number of plays attributed to Pratinas, eighteen tragedies and thirty-two satyric dramas, throws additional doubt upon the probability that the early poets were required to present four plays together.[57]We have thus far considered three types of performances: the improvisational dithyramb, which was still continued in rural and primitive districts; the improved dithyramb (in 508B.C.dithyrambic choruses of men were added to the program of the City Dionysia at Athens), and tragedy. The last two had by this time become semi-literary types. Now we are expressly told, and there is no reason to discredit the information, that Pratinas of Phlius in the Peloponnesus was “the first to write satyr-plays.”[58]The general situation is clear. After tragedy had lost its exclusively Bacchic themes and had considerably departed from its original character, Pratinas endeavored to satisfy religious conservatism by introducing a new manner of production, which came to becalled satyric drama. This was a combination of the dramatic dithyramb of his native Phlius, which of course had developed somewhat since the days of Arion and Epigenes, and of contemporary Attic tragedy; and it had the merit of continuing, at least for a while, the Dionysiac subjects which were so appropriate to the god’s festival. It appears that at first satyr-plays were brought out independently of tragedy and in greater numbers, comparatively, than was afterward the case. But about 501 B.C. the City Dionysia was reorganized: the goat prize was abandoned; κῶμοι, i.e., the volunteer performances from which comedy was later to develop, were added to the program; and, in particular, the regulation was established that each tragic poet must present three tragedies and one satyr-play in a series. Pratinas is known to have competed against Aeschylus about 499B.C.His innovation doubtless fell somewhere between the institution of the tragic contest in 534B.C.and the reorganization of the festival program in 501B.C., possibly about 515B.C.

There remains the difficult problem as to the appearance of the choreutae in the satyric drama at different periods in Athens. Fortunately the aspect of non-dramatic sileni and satyrs is fairly certain. Already on the François vase, an amphora signed by Clitias and Ergotimus and belonging to about 600-550B.C., there are representations of three ithyphallic creatures with equine ears, hoofs, and tails (Fig. 3).[59]An inscription ΣΙΛΕΝΟΙ leaves no doubt as to the identity of the figures. Mr. A. B. Cook lists six other inscribed vases from Attica which tell a similar story.[60]None of these seven vases, however, betrays any relationship to the theater.

On the other hand, a list[61]of fifteen Attic vases has been drawn up on which goat-men appear. None of these antedates 450B.C.,so that it is clear that such figures did not go back to a remote period in Athenian history. In fact, they can hardly be conceived of as preceding Pratinas’ introduction of the satyric drama toward the close of the sixth century. Unfortunately none of these vases is inscribed, but the caprine ears, hoofs, horns, and tails scarcely leave room for doubt that these creatures, like similar figures of Hellenistic and Roman times, were known as satyrs. With one possible exception (Fig. 9), which will be discussed presently, these representations also have no direct relationship to the theater. It would thus appear that from first to last a clear distinction was drawn, outside the sphere of theatrical influence, between the equine sileni and the caprine satyrs.

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