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The Attitude of the Greek Tragedians 
 toward Nature. 
 
 H. RUSHTON FAIRGLOUGH, 
 
 Stanford University, California. 
 
 V 0» Tii 
 o:r 
 
The Attitude 
 
 GREEK TRAGEDIANS 
 
 TOWARD 
 
 NATURE. 
 
 3y 
 
 H. RUSHTON FAIRCLOUGH 
 
 Stanford University, California. 
 
 THESIS 
 
 Accepted for the Degree of Doctor of PiiiLosoriiv, 
 
 Johns Hopkins University, 
 
 May, 1896. 
 
 TORONTO 
 
 
 ROWSELL & HUTCHISON, 
 1897. 
 
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 £)' 
 
PIAE MEMORIAE 
 
 DANIELIS WILSON IIQUITIK 
 
 UNIVERSITATIS AI'UI) TORONTONENSES PRAESIDIS 
 
 HOC OPUSCULUM 
 
 DEDICAT AUCTOR. 
 
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Digitized by the Internet Archive 
 
 in 2007 with funding from 
 
 IVIicrosoft Corporation 
 
 http://www.archive.org/details/attitudeofgreektOOfairrich 
 
tablp: of contents. 
 
 BlULIOGRArHY, 1-2. 
 
 Chapter 1, pp. 3-9. The discussion begins with Schiller, 3. — Erroneous 
 views, 3. — More reasonable views, 4. — Friedlander, 5. — The subject 
 now discussed from the historical stand-point, 5. — What can still be 
 done in investigation ? 6. — Object of the present study, 7. — Results 
 achieved, 7. — Various modes of contemplating nature, 7.— What 
 was the Greek conception of nature ? 8. — Man the centre of interest, 
 8. — Love of the picturesque among the Greeks, 8. — Little expres- 
 sion of that love in their literature, 9. — Love of nature subordinate 
 to love of man, 9. 
 
 Chapter 2, pp. 10-19. Aeschylus, 10. — Poverty of descriptive element, 
 10. — Sense of the utility of nature, 10. — Sensuous enjoyment of 
 nature, II. — Religious sense, 11. — Love for nature is secondary, 11 — 
 Illustrations of life, taken from the sea, 11. — Illustrations from other 
 spheres, 12.— Illustrations from trees and plants, 12. — Flowers in 
 Aeschylus, 13. — Birds and animals, 13. — Personification of nature, 
 15. — Personification characteristic of Aeschj'lus, 15. — Quaintness of 
 certain metaphors, 16. — Mode of neutralizing metaphors, 16. — Nature 
 given a symbolical meaning, 16. —The Pathetic Fallacy in Aeschylus, 
 17. — Feeling for the picturesqiie and the grand in scener}^ 18. — 
 Mountain scenery, 18. — Feeling for the sea : (1) The bright side ; (2) 
 the dark side, 18. — Suldimity in other fields, 19. 
 
 Chapter 3, pp. 20-34. Sophocles, 20. — Topographical accuracy, 20. — 
 Vividness of local picturing, 22. — Poverty of descriptive element, 
 22. — Sense of the utility of nature, 23. — Sensuous delight in nature, 
 24. — Love for nature secondary to other interests, 24. — Nature illus- 
 trates human life, 24. — Illustrations from the sea, 24. — Rivers in 
 Sophocles, 25.— Illustrations from a variety of sources, 25. — Trees 
 and plants, 26. — Flowers, 27. — Birds and animals, 27. — Feeling for 
 nature expressed in mythological terms, 29. — Personification, 29. — 
 Symbolism of natiire, 30.— Personality of nature and the Pathetic 
 Fallacy in Sophocles, 30. — Sophocles lacking in sublimity, 32. — His 
 treatment of mountains, 32. — His treatment of the sea, 33. — The sea 
 suggests loneliness, 33. 
 
 Chapter 4, pp. 34-70. Euripides, 34. — His greater significance, 34. — 
 Romantic and descriptive barrenness even in Euripides, 34. — Sense 
 of the utility of nature, 36. — Less careful than Sophocles in topo- 
 graphical accuracy, 37. — Certain vivid scenes, 37. — Euripides' descrip- 
 tions general, not specific, 37. — Love of l)rilliance and splendor, 38. — 
 Euripides' color-range, 38. — Compared with Aeschylus and Sophocles 
 in this respect, .39. — Contrast in colors, 41. — Appreciation of the 
 effects of air and light, 41. — Illu.strations of life from nature, 42. — 
 The sea in Euripides, 42. — Rivers in Euripides, 44. — The botanical 
 world in Euripides, 45. — Trees and flowers introduced sometimes 
 because of their special significance, 45. — Main reason for their intro- 
 duction, 46. — Great variety of trees, fruits and flowers in Euripides, 
 46. — Aeschylus and Euripides comj)ared, 47. — So})hocles and Euri- 
 
VI TABLE OF CONTENTS. 
 
 pides compared, s8. — The animal kingdom, 48. —Domestic animals, 
 48. — Wild animals, 48. — Birds, 48. — Euripides compared with 
 Aeschylus and Sophocles in reference to the animal kingdom, 49. — 
 Tenderness towards the lower creatures, 49. — Feeling foi' nature 
 under a mythological setting, r)0. — Best example in the Medea, 52. — 
 Euripides fond of such epithets, as lepdij and dymg, 52. — Personifica- 
 tion in Euripides, 58.— Symbolism of nature, 53. — Nature and 
 man in sympathy, 55. — The Pathetic Fallacy in Euripides, 55. — 
 Its frequency, 55. — Euripides" delight in nature more comprehensive 
 than that of his predecessors, 59. — Ijandscapes in harmony with men- 
 tal moods, 59. — The ordinary Greek attitude towards an expressed 
 sentiment for nature, 60. — Frequent instances of a yearning for dis- 
 tant places and solitude, 60.— Sentimentality of Euripides, 61. — 
 Euripides the forerunner of Theocritus in romantic sentiment, 62. — 
 Idyllic tone in Euripides, 62. — Euripides inferior in sublimity, 63. 
 — Instances of sublimity, 64. — Mountains in Euripides, 64. — Snow, 
 65. — Scenes of desolation, 65. — Perils of the mountains, 65. — 
 Mountains typical of gloom and sorrow, 65. — Euripides and natural 
 philosophy, 65. — The Jihe-^n-s; its authenticity, 66. — Picturesque 
 coloring in Euiipides, 67. — Poetical treatment of night and day, 
 68. — Picturesque scenes, 68. — Vivid and picturesque narrative, 68. — 
 Passionate love for nature, as a subject of primary interest, 70. — The 
 three tragedians compared, 71. — How Euripides differs from the 
 other two, 71. — Euripides open to criticism, 71. 
 
 Chapter 5, pp. 72-77. Aristophanes and Euripides, 72. — Criticism in 
 the Frog-i, 73. — The points usixally noticed in the criticism, 74. — 
 Additional points to be observed, 74. — Wherein does the sentimen- 
 tality of Euripides consist ? 75. — Euripides marks a change in Greek 
 spirit, 75. — His innovations iu art, 75. — His choral odes, 75. — 
 Euripides' life and character, 75. — DiflFerence in sj)irit between 
 ancient and modern life, 76. — The secret of Aristophanes' hostility', 
 76. — The Bacchae and the Frogs, 77. — Suggested explanation of the 
 romantic character of the Bacchae, 77. 
 
 Index of Citations from the Greek Tragedians, 78-82. 
 
BIBLIOGRAPHY OF THE PRINCIPAL 
 LITERATURE CONSULTED. 
 
 Aeschylus, various editions. Dindorf's Lexicon. Dindorf 's Biblio- 
 
 text, 5th ed., 1882, adopted, except where otherwise graphy 
 
 specified. 
 Sophocles, various editions.^ Ellendt's Lexicon. Dindorf's 
 
 text, 5th ed., 1882, adopted, except where otherwise 
 
 specified. 
 Euripides, various editions.'- Beck's Index. Nauck's 
 
 text, 3rd ed., vol. L, 1876, vol. II., 1880, adopted, 
 
 except where specially noted. 
 Aristophanes, various editions.'' 
 Tragicorum Graecorum Fragmenta. Editio secunda, 1889, 
 
 edited by Nauck.* 
 Schiller : Ueber naive und sentimentalische Dichtung. 
 
 Written in 1795. 
 Cope : The Picturesque among the Greeks. In " Cam- 
 bridge 'Essays " for 1856. 
 MoTZ, H. : tJeber die Empfindung der Naturschonheit bei 
 
 den Alten. Leipzig, 1865. 
 Secretan, E. : Du Sentiment de la Nature dans I'antiquite 
 
 Romaine. Lausanne, 1866. 
 Lubker : Die Naturanschauung der Alten. Flensburg, 
 
 Prog. 1867. 
 v. KiTTLiTZ : Naturbilder aus der griechischen Lyrik. 
 
 Liegnitz, Prog. 1867. 
 BucHHOLZ : Ueber die homerische Naturanschauung., 
 
 Erfurt, Prog. 1870. 
 Woermann, Karl : Ueber den landschaftlichen Natursinn 
 
 der Griechen und Romer. Mtinchen, 1871. 
 
 ^ Jebb's editions of the several plays have been most helpful. 
 
 - Sandys' Bacchae has been very suggestive, and Nauck's introduction 
 to Euripides very helpful. Beck's index is faulty, and I have had to do 
 much index work for myself. 
 
 ■' Especially Kock's " Die Frosche." 
 
 * All the references are to this edition, except in two or three instances 
 where the numbering of Dindorf's Lexicon for Aeschylus and Ellendt's 
 for Sophocles is given. 
 
2 
 
 Hess, G. : Beitrage liber das Naturgefiihl im klassischen 
 
 Alterfchum. Rendsburg, Prog. 1871. 
 FiUEDLANDER: Ueber die Entstehung und Entwickluiig 
 
 des Geflihls flir das Romantische in der Natur. 
 
 Leipzig, 1873. 
 Hense : Beseelende Personification in Griechischen Dich- 
 
 tungen, etc. Parchim, Prog. 1874. 
 
 — zweite abtheilung, Schwerin, Prog. 1877. 
 Schmidt, H. : Homer als Kenner der Natur und treuer 
 
 Darsteller. Hagen, Prog. 1882. 
 BiESE, Alfred : Die Entwicklung des Naturgefiihls bei 
 
 den Griechen. Kiel, 1882. 
 BiESE, A. : Das Metaphorische in der dichterischen Phan- 
 
 tasie. Berlin, 1889. 
 Straub, L. W. : Der Natursinn der alten Griechen. 
 Friedlander : Sittengeschichte Roms.^ 6th ed., Leipzig, 
 
 1889. 
 TozER : Geography of Greece. London, 1873. 
 Symonds, J. A. : Studies of the Greek Poets. London, 
 
 J 873. 
 RusKiN, John : Modern Painters, Part IV. ch. 18. 
 Allen, Grant : The Colour Sense.- London, 1879. 
 Shairp : Poetic Interpretation of Nature. Houghton, 
 
 Mifflin & Co., 1889. 
 Veitch, John : The Feeling for Nature in Scottish Poetry. 
 
 Edinburgh, 1887. 
 Butcher, S. H. : Some Aspects of the Greek Genius. 
 
 Macmillan, 1893. 
 
 II.. pp. 188-273. ^ Espec. ch. 13. 
 
CHAPTER I. 
 
 'TTHE feeling for nature among the ancients, and theThedis- , 
 ^^ treatment of nature in Greek and Roman literature cussion 
 are subjects that have attracted a good deal of attention in ^jlh 
 recent years. Schiller. 
 
 The discussion may be said to have begun with Schiller's 
 essay on " Naive and Sentimental Poetry," written in 1795. 
 Schiller draws a sharp distinction between the simple 
 poetry of the ancients and the sentimental poetry of modern 
 times, remarking that " we find very few traces in Greek 
 poetry of the sentimental interest with which the modern 
 world looks upon scenes of nature and natural characters. 
 The Greeks, to be sure, are accurate and faithful in their 
 descriptions of nature, but they show no more peculiar 
 enthusiasm than in describing a vestment, a shield, armour, 
 a piece of furniture or any mechanical product. . . .They 
 do not cling to nature with the emotion, spirituality or 
 gentle melancholy of the moderns." ^ 
 
 As Biese'-^ and Butcher^ both point out, this somewhat 
 narrow view of Schiller's is to be explained by the fact 
 that he was most familiar with Homer, the most naive of 
 all poets, and in making his sweeping statements about 
 the characteristics of Greek poetry it is Homer that he has 
 especially in mind. Later, in his criticism of Matthisson's 
 poems,* Schiller expressly stated his belief that the Greeks, 
 who were passionate lovers of all beauty, were susceptible 
 to the charms of inanimate nature, their very mythology 
 indicating how deep and rich was their appreciation.^ 
 
 This statement, together with his recognition, even in Erroneous 
 the first essay referred to,* of Euripides, Horace, Propertius, views. 
 Vergil and Ovid as the sentimental poets of antiquity, was, 
 however, generally lost sight of and Schiller is probably 
 responsible for the view that prevails, or until recently has 
 prevailed, that the Greeks totally failed to appreciate the 
 beauty and picturesqueness of the external world. 
 
 ^ Schiller's Werke, vol. XII. 1 (Spemann). 
 
 ■^ p. 3. 3 pp. 247-8. * Woermann, p. v. ; and Biese, p. 4. 
 
 " See Straub, p. 2. « p. 360. 
 
views. 
 
 Thus Gervinus^ says, " Das ganze Alterthum kennt keine 
 so innige Freude an der Natur, wie sie aus den Tierdich- 
 tungen der mittleren Zeiten spricht " , Becker in his Ghari- 
 cles, " No author of the better age has even attempted ta 
 portray a landscape .... The Greeks wanted that deep and 
 warm perception of the charms of inanimate nature, the 
 lack of which, when found among us, is always a cause 
 of reproach or commiseration^ " ; and Otfr. Mtiller "Neither 
 the sentimental dwelling upon nature in general, nor the 
 romantic conception of landscape in particular, is known 
 to the Greek spirit." The same view was emphatically 
 expressed by Cope in an essay on " The Picturesque among 
 the Greeks " (Cambridge Essays, 1856). 
 More rea- The first to contradict this view was Jacobs in his pre- 
 tw«^^ face to Leben unci Kunst der Alien, 1824. " Who," he 
 says, " would regard the pictures of nature and her pheno- 
 mena, which Homer has woven into the web of his epic, 
 inferior to the lengthy descriptions of those who have 
 devoted their energy exclusively to depicting nature ? 
 Even the Anthology is not poor in poems which glorify 
 her charms and invite the reader to the shade of rustling 
 plane-trees, on the edge of murmuring brooks or in cool 
 meadows."^ 
 
 Alex. V. Humboldt's views are given in his Cosmos, vol. 
 II., p. 7. " In Greek antiquity we find the tenderest 
 expression of a deep feeling for nature mingled with poeti- 
 cal presentations of human passion ; but such descriptions 
 of nature are merely secondary, because in Greek art 
 everything, so to speak, moves in the circle of human life. 
 Nature-poetry, as a special branch of literature, was wholly 
 foreign to the Greeks ; landscape with them appears onty 
 as the background of a picture, in front of which move 
 human forms." The Greek, according to v. Humboldt, 
 possessed a deep feeling for nature, but lacked the active 
 consciousness which prompts men to express that feeling 
 in words.* 
 
 In his work, '' Uber die Empfindung der Naturschonheit 
 bei den Alten " (Leipzig, 1865), Heinrich Motz is a warm 
 champion of the simplicity, honesty and clearness of vision 
 possessed by the ancients, and ridicules the affected 
 
 1 Quoted by Biese from his Deutsche Litteraturgeschichte, I. , 103. 
 - Becker's Charides, Eng. trans., 8th ed., 1889, p. 46, note 11. 
 "' Quoted by Biese. * See Biese, p. 4. 
 
• Naturgefiihl " of the moderns, " die Affektation flir die 
 Natur, die eitle Schwarmerei ftir dieselbe, welch e fern von 
 jedem unmittelbaren und ungesuchten Geniessen vor allem 
 selber gesehen sein woUte, jener enthoiisiasme oblige und 
 die eckle Empfindung der Empfindung." ^ Motz, however, 
 seriously erred in not discussing the subject from the his- 
 torical standpoint and studying the question in connection 
 with successive authors and periods. 
 
 This defect is recognized by Woermann, whose work 
 " Ueber den landschaftlichen Natursinn der Griechen und 
 Rcimer" (Mlinchen, 1871), is an excellent one, so far as it 
 goes, though the author generalizes somewhat too freely 
 without sufficient evidence. 
 
 Friedlander- carefully distinguishes between the ancient Fried- 
 and modern " Naturgefiihl," and expresses the view that^'^^^^^- 
 the feeling for nature among the ancients, while vivid, 
 sincere and deep, was much more limited in its range than 
 among the moderns, being confined to a sentiment for what 
 is lovely and charming to the eye. His pamphlet, " Ueber 
 die Entstehung und Entwicklung des Geftlhls fur das 
 Romantische in der Natur," opens with the extravagant 
 statement : " Dass die Ausdehnung des Begriffs der Natur- 
 schcinheit auf das rauhe, dustre und ode, das phantastische 
 und wilde, endlich das furchtbar erhabene dem Alterthum 
 und Mittelalter fremd gewesen ist, darf als erwiesen 
 angenommen werden." 
 
 More recently the subject has been approached from the The sub- 
 historical standpoint. Instead of indulging in glittering j®.^^ ^®w 
 generalities upon the simplicity, objectivity and naivete f^om the 
 of the Greek attitude towards nature, scholars have made historical 
 special studies of individual writers and particular periods stand- 
 of Greek literature, with the result that we find among the ^°*" ' 
 Greeks themselves a process of development in their 
 appreciation of nature, corresponding to their intellectual 
 and social development. This idea is well set forth in the 
 most important work that has yet appeared on this subject, 
 viz., Dr. Alfred Biese's *'Die Entwicklung des Naturge- ^,.^ 
 
 fuhls bei den Griechen " (Kiel, 1882).' In addition to the 0>^ 
 
 introduction, this small volume (145 pages) contains three 
 
 1 p. 11. 2 Sittengeschichte Roms, vol. II. (6th ed,), pp. 188-273. 
 
 '■' This has since been followed by the same author's " Die Entwicklung 
 des Naturgefiihls bei den Romern " (Kiel, 1884) ; and " Die Entwicklung 
 des Naturgefiihls im Mittelalter und in der Neuzeit " (Leipzig, 1892). 
 
6 
 
 chapters, one on the naive feeling for nature in mythology 
 
 and Homer, a second on the sympathetic feeling for 
 
 nature in lyric poetry and the drama, and a third on the 
 
 sentimental and idyllic feeling for nature in Hellenistic 
 
 and imperial times. 
 
 What can With the main ideas in this work no student of Greek 
 
 still be literature is likely to disagree seriously, but a careful 
 
 invettT reading of the volume has convinced me that in con- 
 
 gation? nection with this subject a good deal of profitable w^ork 
 
 still remains to be done. Before the subject can be 
 
 regarded as exhausted, the attitude of each of the great 
 
 Greek writers to nature must be studied in detail and in 
 
 reference to his contemporaries, and not till this^ has been 
 
 done can we afford to indulge in generalisations, however 
 
 plausible. 
 
 Still more recent than Biese's work is an essay on " The 
 Dawn of Romanticism in Greek Poetry," by Prof Butcher, 
 of Edinburgh, contained in his very interesting book, " Some 
 Aspects of the Greek Genius " (Macmillan, 1893). The line 
 9f thought followed by Butcher will be indicated by one of 
 his opening paragraphs : " The great change which passed 
 over imaginative literature under the influence of Christi- 
 anity was not without preparation. Within the limits of 
 Greek literature itself there are many premonitory symp- 
 toms of the new direction in which feeling was tending, of 
 a new attitude towards the things of the heart and another 
 mode of contemplating the universe without. An exclu- 
 sive attention to the earlier epochs of Greek literature has 
 obscured the gradual stages of this process." ^ This is very 
 reasonable speaking and yet in his interesting essa}^ 
 Butcher does not take sufficient account of Euripides, or 
 estimate aright his position in the growth of the romantic 
 spirit. " The change of sentiment," he says, " sets in only 
 from the time of Alexander onward." Again : " For the 
 first time, in the period subsequent to Alexander the Great, 
 arose the feeling for landscape, and, growing out of it, an 
 independent art of landscape painting." Butcher does 
 indeed admit that inasmuch as in the Hippolytus " Euri- 
 pides brought upon the stage womanly passion," his tragedy 
 being " a pathological study rather than a dramatic repre- 
 sentation of life," he was " the first of the sentimental 
 poets and the forerunner of modern romanticism," but in 
 
 1 p. 246. 
 
his attitude towards external nature Euripides' peculiar 
 position as the first of the Greek romanticists is far from 
 being recognized. 
 
 The attitude of Homer towards nature seems to be well Object 
 understood ; at least he has received considerable attention °^ *^^ ^ 
 in regard to this subject.^ So too with the Greek lyric study. 
 poets.2 But no detailed study has ever been made of the 
 attitude of the great tragedians towards nature and their 
 relations to one another in this respect. Nobody, too, so 
 far as I know, has observed that one important point of 
 Aristophanes' criticism of Euripides is the latter's senti- 
 mentalism in his treatment of external nature. 
 
 This is the subject to which I have addressed myself. Results 
 I have endeavoured to gather together all the material ^^'^le^^^^- 
 afforded by the dramatists themselves, to study their con- 
 ception of nature individually and in comparison with one 
 another, and thirdly to substantiate the view that in criti- 
 cizing Euripides for excessive sentimentalism, Aristophanes 
 protests against tragedy being made a vehicle for the 
 effusive expression of a feeling for nature. 
 
 There are many different ways in which a poet may Various 
 look at nature.'^ He may, for instance, feel a simple, unre- "^^des of 
 fiective delight in external scenes, — a sense of freedom and plating 
 invigorating freshness or a childlike wonder at nature's nature, 
 phenomena. Or he may take an interest in scenes because 
 of their associations, — religious or patriotic feeling, sad or 
 happy memories being aroused by them. Again, he may 
 treat nature as a means of illustrating human life — so 
 familiar to us in Homer's use of similes. Moreover, a poet 
 may embody photographic views of nature, in which a 
 scene is accurately described with a faithful realism, which 
 indicates the close observation of an artist, but not neces- 
 sarily a warm love or genuine enthusiasm for nature 
 herself. Of such poetry, Thomson's Seasons is a good 
 illustration, but the best descriptions of this sort to-day 
 
 ^ BucHHOLZ : Ueber die homerische Naturanschauung, Erfurt, Prog. 
 1870. And 
 
 H. Schmidt : Homer als Kenner der Natur und treuer Darsteller, 
 etc., etc. 
 
 2 See V. KiTTLiTZ : Naturbilder aus der griechischen Lyrik, and 
 Symonds, J. A., Greek Poets. 
 
 ^ See Shairp : Poetic Interpretation of Nature. 
 
8 
 
 appear in prose, as in the case of Ruskin, Thoreau or John 
 Muir.^ 
 
 But further, the poet may transfer his own emotions to 
 sea and sky, to hill and dale and stream, and looking at 
 nature " through a coloured atmosphere of human feeling,"- 
 may make her " rejoice with them that do rejoice and weep 
 with them that weep." This is the tendency to which 
 Ruskin so aptly gave the name of " The Pathetic Fallacy." 
 
 Lastly, there is a delight in nature which seeks to pene- 
 trate into her mysteries, which spiritualizes and person- 
 alizes the outw^ard world, giving it an ideal grace and 
 flinging 
 
 " A magic light o'er all her hills and groves." 
 
 This, in brief, is the conception w^hich Wordsworth intro- 
 duced into modern poetry and which was almost unknow^n 
 before his day. In Wordsworth, we have for the first 
 time a distinctive poetry of nature, in which nature is the 
 centre, while man is subordinate. 
 
 What was It is pertinent now to ask, what in general was the 
 
 the Greek Greek conception of nature in classical times ? 
 
 tkm of Nothing can be affirmed more truly of the Greeks than 
 
 nature ? their belief that 
 
 ** The proper study of mankind is man." 
 
 Man the To Browning's dictum, " Little else is worth study than the 
 centre of incidents in the development of a soul," they would have 
 m eres . }^ga^j.^jiy assented. And especially true is this in regard to 
 their treatment of nature. However fond of nature they 
 were, she was not studied for her own sake, but man is 
 the centre of their literature, while nature serves mainly 
 as the background of the picture, against wdiich are pre- 
 / sented the joys and sorrows, the emotions and struggles of 
 humanity. Nature may serve to illustrate scenes in 
 human life, she may minister to man's pleasures and enjoy- 
 ment, but for nature to be contemplated or loved apart by 
 herself is quite alien to the average Greek mind. 
 Love of Yet we must not infer from this that the Greeks failed 
 the pic- iq appreciate the beauties and picturesqueness of nature — 
 among the ^ view maintained by Cope and others. On the contrary, 
 Greeks, the very forms w^ith which Greek fancy peopled rivers, 
 
 ^ The Mountains of California, Century Co., 1895. 
 
 ' Walker : The Greater Victorian Poets, p. 211. (London, 189o.) 
 
woods and mountains, testify plainly to the emotions, the 
 admiration and veneration with which this people observed 
 the many varied phenomena of natural objects and forces. 
 Gibbon has observed that their language gave a soul to the 
 objects of sense. And herein lies the main reason why we ' 
 have so little description of nature's varied scenes in Greek 
 literature. When the Greek viewed a rapid torrent, a grove 
 of trees or a line of high cliffs, his imagination saw behind 
 these objects an animate, divine spirit, though the river 
 itself, the grove and the cliffs were nothing but dead, 
 inanimate bodies. Now, being eminently sensible, he 
 bestowed the love and worship, which we give to nature 
 herself, not upon the lifeless bodies of material things, but 
 upon the spiritual powers which made them their homes. 
 When the sunbeams dart across the crest of Parnassus, it 
 is Dionysus who " with pine-torch bounds o'er the twin- 
 peaked height, tossing and shaking his Bacchic wand ; " ^ 
 and when the Grecian maidens in exile in a barbarian land 
 sigh for a return to their happy homes, they do not yearn 
 for their native hills,and trees, and lakes, but for " Artemis, 
 the blest, who dwells by the Cynthian hill and the palm of 
 dainty leafage, the sprouting laurel and holy shoot of pale 
 olive, and the lake that rolls its circling waters." - 
 
 The fact, however, remains that a people who had a Little 
 genuine enthusiasm for beauty and a keen perception of ^^P^^^^^*'^ 
 it, seldom gave expression in their literature to a love forj^^gj^ 
 the beautiful in nature. Man was the subject of pre- their 
 eminent interest — his form was the study of the sculptor ^i*^^**"*"®- 
 and painter, and to his life and interests was their entire 
 literature devoted. 
 
 In the following beautiful passage, Euripides, though Love of 
 giving expression to a love for nature, well shows its sub-"^|^^^^^, 
 ordination to a love for humanity : " Wife, dear is this light ^^^g ^o' 
 of the sun, and lovel}^ to the eye is the placid ocean-flood, love of 
 and the earth in the bloom of spring, and wide-spreading "^*°- 
 waters, and of many lovely sights might I speak the 
 praises. But nought is so fair or lovely to behold, as for the 
 childless and those consumed with longings, to see in their 
 homes the light that new-born babes bring." ' 
 
 Euripides, Bac. 306. ^ Euripides, Tph. Taur. 1097. 
 
 Euripides, Fr. 316. 
 
 FV*'' Of TiCI 
 
10 
 
 CHAPTER 11. 
 
 Aeschylus gl ESCHYLUS, the first of the great trio of Greek tragic 
 poets, has left us many proofs of a warm love for 
 nature. Yet it may not be unwise to approach the subject 
 of our study on the negative side, for striking as is the 
 positive evidence he aifords, we shall find that no less 
 striking are the poet's reticence and reserve where modern 
 feeling and taste would call for freedom of expression. 
 Poverty of The Persce, which is one of the earliest extant plays^ of 
 descrip- Aeschylus and is pervaded with a lyrical spirit, opens with 
 element, a lengthy ode, in which the Persian elders recount the 
 forces which took the field under Xerxes, In this cata- 
 logue the utter absence of the descriptive element is to be 
 noticed. It may, to be sure, be said that here the poet was 
 dealing with a foreign land and with foreign scenes. And 
 yet in the answer to Atossa's question,^ " Where is Athens ? " 
 w^hat a good opportunity an Attic poet had of dwelling on 
 the beauty and picturesque charms of his native city ? 
 The reply, however, is as brief as the question. It is " far 
 to the west, where sets the sun in his majesty." •' 
 Sense of In their description of natural scenes, Greek writers often 
 the utihty gggu^ ^q ^q struck with nothing more than a sense of the 
 ' utility of nature. Though this sense need not be out of 
 harmony with a higher interest in nature, it is in itself of 
 a low aesthetic order, and were the Greeks, in dealing w^itli 
 this outer world, to limit their appreciation to rich tilth 
 and fructifying rivers, we should have excellent reason for 
 denying that they possessed any love for the beauties of 
 nature. 
 
 In Aeschylus, descriptive epithets that refer to material 
 wealth are very common. The Nile is dXcfyeatfioLov vSoop* 
 iroXvOpifjLfiwv,^ and XeTrroyfrd/jiado^.^ The rivers of Argolis 
 are XiTrapd,^ Dirce is evTpa(f>e(TTaTov Trayfjudroiv,^ and a river 
 in the west 'xpvaoppvrov vdp,a? So Sardis and Babylon are 
 
 1 Produced B.C. 472. "^ Persae, 11. 231-2. 
 
 •*' Similarly, in Cassandra's pathetic apostrophe of her native Scamander 
 (Ag. 1157), we note the absence of all picturesque ornament. 
 
 * Suppl. 855. ^ Pers. 33. « Suppl. 4. ^ Suppl. 1029. 
 
 » Sept. 309. » Pr. 805. 
 
11 
 
 7roXvxP^f^o^>^ Sicily is KaWUapiro^i,^ Argos ^advxOoDv^^ 
 Phrygia /jLr}\6^oTo<i,^ Asia /jL7]XoTp64>o^,^ Cyprus ^advirXov- 
 T09 ')(B(ov^ and iroXvirvpo^ ala, and Egypt ev6aXr)<;.'' 
 
 A sense of pleasure in out-door life, at the most a cer- Sensuous 
 tain exhilaration of feeling, is all that can fairly be inferred ^f "j^J^^^g * 
 from numerous descriptive touches in the dramatists. Thus 
 the frequent use of Xafxirpo^;, which Aeschylus applies to 
 the sun, constellations, and once to wind ; XevKo^ and 
 derivatives, of the day^ and water" ; (f)aiBp6<;, evc^e'^'yrj^ and 
 similar expressions of brightness. With this elation is 
 often combined a religious sense, as when the sky or rivers Religious 
 or lands are termed a^vo^^^, or when the Nile sends forth sense. 
 her aerrrrov evirorov peo^;^^, and its stream is voaoi^ adcKrov^-. 
 So /epo? in (/)W9 lepou,^'^ tepa? vvkt6(;^\ lepov %6i}/Lta OaXdG(jrj<i^^ , 
 and hlo<; used of ')(6(i>v, dXao^ and aWrjp^^, 
 
 As with the Greek poets from Homer down, the love for Love for 
 nature in Aeschylus is usually subordinate to other inter- nature is 
 ests. Nature furnishes illustrations and lessons for human ^®^®"*^ ^"^y* 
 life and conduct. Hence the frequent analogies from the 
 sea and sky, from wind and storm, from plant and animal lUustra- 
 life. The largest number of such illustrations come from ?3?"\°f 
 the sea, and the arts of sailing, steering and building ships, f^.^^^ Jj^^ 
 " Metaphors," we are told, " reflect the life of a nation," and sea. 
 the poetry of Aeschylus alone, apart from other evidence, 
 would suffice to prove that the Athenians lived half their 
 life upon the ocean wave." More striking and extended 
 are such metaphors as we find in Gho. 390, " Before my 
 heart's prow blows a storm of angry wrath and infuriate 
 hate; " or Eum. 555, where the unjust man "will at last 
 lower his sail perforce, when his yard-arm is shattered and 
 trouble overtakes him. In the midst of the o'ermastering 
 suroje he calls on those that listen not, but Heaven lauefhs 
 at the headstrong man .... as he fails to weather the cape. 
 This man wrecks forever his olden happiness on the reef of 
 Justice, and dies unwept, unseen ; " or Sept 758, " Methinks 
 
 1 Pers. 45 and 53. ^ pj.. 359, 3 Sept. 304. 
 
 * Suppl. 548. 5 Pers. 763. « Suppl. 555. '^ Fr. 300. 
 
 8 Pers. 301, 386 and Ag. 668. » Suppl. 24. 
 
 ^0 Suppl. 254, Pers. 497, Pr. 281, 435. ^ Pr. 812. 
 
 ^•' Suppl. 561. 1'' Eum. 1005. 1* Fr. 66. 
 
 15 Fr. 192. i« Suppl. 5, 558 and Pr. 88. 
 
 ^' Cf. Sept. 2, 62, 208, 533, 761, 769, 849— Suppl. 165, 344, 440, 471, 
 767, 989, 1007.— Cho. 814.— Eum. 637.— Pers. 250.— Ag. 52, 236, 802, 
 897. See Biese, p. 37 ; Campbell's Sophocles I., p. 105. 
 
12 
 
 a sea of evils rolls its waves, one falling and another ris- 
 ing, triple-cleft, which clashes round our city's keel." The 
 art of fishing furnishes two strong similes in Pers. 424 and 
 Cho. 506. In the former the Persians are speared like 
 tunny-fish, and in the latter children are said to preserve 
 a man's fame after death, even as corks buoy up the net 
 that is sunk in the sea. Another fine simile comes from 
 diving.i 
 lUustra- Most powerful is the metaphor for the murders that 
 *J.°^^^^^'°"^ wreck the house of Agamemnon, taken from a rain that 
 spheres, first drizzles, then descends in a flood.- The noise of war 
 at the gates is like the pelting of stormy sleet,^ or a resist- 
 less mountain torrent * ; the winds of the war-god rush in 
 hurricane ^ ; tears are " thirsty driblets from a storm-flood, 
 bursting the dykes,"^ and lo's confused and raving utter- 
 ances are compared to a muddy river that rushes down to 
 meet the clear sea- water.'' 
 lUustra- Trees and plants, though frequently figuring in Aeschy- 
 tions from j^s, are probably never introduced as matters of indepen- 
 plants. dent interest. Nevertheless, may we not suppose that to 
 the poet who noticed them so frequently, the}^ were a con- 
 stant source of delight ?^ Athene, in her love for the citi- 
 zens, is like a gardener who is a shepherd to his plants^ 
 In man's old age, his foliage withers.^" There is a noble and 
 extended metaphor from the vine in Ag. 966, though in 
 the mouth of Clytaemnestra it is full of feigned emotion.^^ 
 The horror of Clytaemnestra's tale of murder is enhanced by 
 a grim comparison between the blood of the murdered man 
 and " the gentle rain from heaven." " As he breathes out a 
 rapid tide of blood, he casts on me a dark drop of gory 
 dew, while I exult no less than doth the corn, when be- 
 neath heaven's sweet rain the sheath bursts in labor."^- 
 Nothing could express more forcibly the terrible earnest- 
 ness with which the queen had looked forward to the deed. 
 That a cruel murderess, gloating over her victim's blood, 
 should dare to compare herself to the innocent corn, which 
 rejoices in the quickening rain, indicates an utter absence 
 of the sense of moral responsibility, and far from being 
 
 1 Suppl. 408. 2 Ag. 1533. *' Sept. 212. * Sept. 85. 
 
 "^ Sept. 63. « Cho. 184. ' Pr. 885. 
 
 ** In a line preserved from the Philoctetes (Fr. 251), Kpe/xdaaaa ro^oy 
 ^irvos iK fjLeXavSpi'ov, a single epithet gives picturesque coloring. 
 » Eum. 911. i« Ag. 79. ^^ See Biese, p. .39. 
 
 ' 2 Ag. 1389. 
 
18 
 
 " grotesk, ja das Mass des asthetisch Zulassigen liber- 
 schreitend "^ is a wonderful stroke of genius. 
 
 In a very poetical passage, Atossa enumerates the offer- 
 ings she brings to the shade of Darius f " milk, sweet and 
 white from a holy cow ; clearest of honey, that distils from 
 the flower- working bee ; limpid waters from virgin foun- 
 tain ; pure draught from a mother wild, the glory of the 
 ancient vine ; with sweet fruit, too, of the yellow olive, 
 that ever blooms in foliage, and twined flowers, the child- 
 ren of all-bearing earth." We are told that here we have 
 oriental imagery,'^ suited to the speaker, who is a Persian 
 queen, and it may also be claimed that as the offerings are 
 sacred there is a religious significance in the passage.* Yet 
 surely we may also see in the description the poet's love 
 for nature unadorned.^ 
 
 No specific names of flowers are found in Aeschylus, Flowers in 
 though avOo<; is common in a variety of metaphors. We ^^^^'^y" 
 have " the flower of love ;"^ " the flower of youth uncropt " 
 7]l3a^ avdo^ ahpeirrov ;'' the best troops are " the flower of 
 the Persian land ; "^ Cassandra is " a choice flower of abun- 
 dant treasure," iroWcov '^pij/xdrcav i^aipSTov avdo^,^ and the 
 flower of Prometheus is iravrexvov irvpo^ ae\a<i?^ A very 
 daring metaphor from flowers occurs in the Agamemnon, 
 " we see the Aegean sea blossoming with corpses. ^^ 
 
 Aeschylus' active interest in the life of birds and beasts Birds and 
 is seen in their frequent use in simile and metaphor. '^*^^"^^^^- 
 If ^"^ one hears the cry of the Danaids who, in fear of their 
 cousins have fled from their native land, he will fancy it 
 is the voice of the wailing Daulian,i^ Tereus' wife, the 
 hawk-chased nightingale, for she, driven from her haunts 
 and streams,^* mourns for her home, in sorrow ever fresh." 
 Cassandra, too, wailing sadly,'* is *' like a tawny nightin- 
 gale, insatiate in her cries, that with grief-stricken heart 
 mourns for ' Itj^s, Itys,' all her sorrow- fraught days." But 
 the unhappy Cassandra is more wretched than the " tune- 
 ful nightingale." " The gods," she cries,^^ " gave her a 
 winged body, a pleasant and tearless life. For me there 
 
 1 Biese, p. 39. ^ pe^s. 611-8. « Paley, in loc. 
 
 * cf. Eurip. Iph. Taur. 159-166. » cf. Eurip. Hipp. 73. « Ag. 743. 
 
 7 Suppl. 663, cf. 665. 
 
 "^ Pers. 59, cf. Prom. 420. » Ag. 954. lo Pr. 7. 
 
 11 Ag. 659, cf. also Suppl. 74 & 963. ^ i^ guppj, 57, 
 
 i** Accepting Tucker's ^avVido^. 1* ar^ anb x^P^'^ Trora/xcbv r' epyo/niva. 
 15 Ag. 1141. i« Ag. 1146. 
 
14 
 
 waits the stroke from two-edged sword." Moreover, in 
 going to her doom Cassandra " is not like a bird that 
 dreads a thicket,'"'^ and her death reminds even the hard 
 Clytaemnestra"^ of the swan that sings most musicall}^ 
 when dj'ing. The rapacious man who scorns justice is 
 like a boy that pursues a flying bird/^ The maidens of 
 the Septem in their fear of foes are* " like the trembling 
 dove that for her nestlings dreads ill-mated snakes."' The 
 Atreidae^ raise the cry of war and vengeance upon Paris, 
 even as vultures, that have been robbed of their young, 
 fly screaming above their loft}^ nests. 
 
 Birds of carrion represent lawlessness and disgust,' the 
 swallow's twitterings the speech of foreigners,® while the 
 cock beside his hen is a symbol for noisy insolence.^ 
 
 The Persian host is like a swarm of bees,'° the sons of 
 '^ Aegyptus are spiders, weeing a web for their cousins," and 
 
 early man^'^ "dwelt under ground like tiny ants, in the 
 sunless depths of caves." 
 
 Snakes, as objects of abhorrence, always furnish invidi- 
 ous comparisons.^^ 
 
 Among wild quadrupeds the lion is most conspicuous 
 in Aeschylus.^* The metaphor in the Agamemnon,^^ where 
 ioj '^'^'^ the poet calls lion-whelps " dew-drops " reveals an almost 
 
 Oriental fancy. Wolves figure in Suppl. 350, 760; Cho. 
 421 and Ag. 1258 ; deer in Bum. Ill, 246 and Ag. 1063. 
 The metaphor in Suppl. 86 is derived from hunting in a 
 shady forest. " It is not easy to track the will of Zeus. 
 To himself ^^ all is clear, but mortal man may live in the 
 gloom of dark mischance." 
 
 Among domestic animals, horses, dogs and kine are the 
 most prominent. The Danaid maiden is " like a heifer that, 
 chased by wolves, runs to and fro on steepy crags, and to 
 the herdsman lows her tale of distress."^' A very striking 
 
 1 Ag. 1316. 2 Ag. 1444. » Ag. 394. 
 
 •^ Sept 290. 5 c/. Sept. 503, Suppl. 223, Prom. 857. 
 
 « Ag. 49, (/. Cho. 247. 
 
 ' Ag. 1473, Suppl. 684, 751. 
 
 ^ Ag. 1050, cf. Aristoph. Ranae 688, Aves 1681. 
 
 ** Ag. 1671. There is a simile from cock-fighting Eum. 861. 
 i-o Pers. 129. n Suppl. 886. ^^ pj,. 452. 
 
 i» Cho. 247, 994, 1047 ; Suppl. 896 ; Sept. 290, 381, 503 ; Eum. 127, 181. 
 1* Sept. 53 ; Ag. 141, 717, 827, 1258 ; Eum. 193 ; Fr. 110. 
 15 Ag. 141, cf. Psalms ex. 3. 
 
 1 ^ Tucker's ttuvt avroj involves but a slight change in the corrupt MS. 
 reading. ^ ' Suppl. 350. 
 
15 
 
 comparison is drawn^ between the ships of Menelaus, over- 
 taken by a hurricane, and a herd of cattle, when terror- 
 stricken they are exposed to a violent storm.^ 
 
 The proneness of the Greeks to the personification of ^^'!®^"*^.' 
 nature, a tendency which originated so much of their jjg^^^^j.e. 
 mytholog-y and led to their special art of sculpture, can be 
 amply illustrated from Aeschylus, as from every other 
 Greek poet. The idea that nature sympathizes with the 
 suffering Prometheus finds expression in the beautiful 
 conception of the modest ocean nymphs " o'er whose eyes 
 rushes a mist of fear, that floods them with tears"' when 
 they look upon his suffering form. The modern poet may 
 sinoj of nature smilinoj when man is afflicted. The Greek 
 fashion is seen in the Fersae, where the messenger describes 
 for Atossa the signal disaster that -overtook the Persians 
 on the little island of Psyttaleia, " where the dance-loving 
 Pan haunts the sea-shore."* 
 
 A mountain in the far west is in Aeschylus a brother of 
 Prometheus, " Atlas, who stands in the regions of the west, 
 bearing upon his shoulders the pillar of heaven and earth,"* 
 and beneath Mount Aetna lies the giant Typhon who will 
 some day " belch forth his wrath." ^ 
 
 The moon is " the starry eye of Leto's daughter," '' 
 " sacred night " comes with her " black steeds," ^ all crea- 
 tion is Zeus,' and in the marriage of heaven and earth, in 
 the fertilizing rain, the birth of flocks of sheep and the grain 
 of the fields, as well as in the growth of trees, is seen the 
 universal power of Aphrodite.'" 
 
 Outside, however, of the mythological sphere, the per- Personifi- 
 sonifyinef instinct is one of Aeschylus' most characteristic ^f*^^^^ 
 features. Consider the boldness of the conception in Ag. jg^jc ^f 
 GoO : " Fire and the sea — once deadly foes — swore a com- Aeschyltis 
 pact ; " or of the expression ^pi^et 'yap al/xa koX iMapaiverai 
 X^po'i " the blood-stain slumbers and withers ; " ii or of 
 BopirLva/cTo<; 8' aWr)p iirip^aLveTaL " and the air is maddened 
 with the clash of spears." i^ Noticeable is the personal 
 
 1 Ag. 655. 
 
 2 Cf. Prom. 1009 ; Sept. 393 ; Pers. 71 ; Suppl. 759 ; Ag. 232 {x'^^iaipa), 
 607, 896, 1125, 1298, 1640; Cho. 275, 446, 795; Eum. 246; Fr. 207 
 {rpdyo^). 3 Pr. 144. * Pers. 448. 
 
 " Pr. 348. « Pr. 351. ^ Fr. 170. « Fr. 69. » Fr. 70, cf. Fr. 464. 
 10 Pj.. 44, V. Biese, p. 38. Note that in Cho. 6, Orestes, on returning 
 to Argos, offers to the Inachus a lock of hair as dpsTrrr/piov. 
 11 Eum. 280. 1*^ Sept. 155. 
 
16 
 
 force of evfievri^ in Pers. 487, " The Spercheius waters the- 
 plain with kindly flood ; " and in Se'pt 17 veov<i epirovra^ 
 €v/jL6vet TreSft), " when young we crept on earth's kindl}^ 
 plain." 1 Again darkness is " the eye of black night " - and 
 the moon is vvkto<; 6(f)da\fjL6<;,^ For other instances of the 
 use of ofjbfjLa or o^OaXfio^i in personal metaphor, we may 
 examine Pers. 169, JEum. 1025 and Cho. 934. 
 Quaint- Some of the personal metaphors in Aeschylus are curi- 
 certain ously quaint. Salmydessus* is " a jaw of the sea, step- 
 metaphors dame to ships." Dust is " thirsty, bounded as sister with 
 mud," ^ and smoke is " the flickering sister of fire."^ The 
 beacon-light is a " great beard of flame." ^ 
 Mode of At times the poet, as if conscious that his metaphors are 
 neutrahz- ^qq strong, partly neutralizes their effect by a qualification 
 plu)re.^ ^ ^^^^ must be taken literally. The eagle is a dog of Zeus, 
 but he is winged, A169 Tnrjvo^ kvwv \^ the griffins are 
 hounds of Zeus, but are sharp-beaked and have no bark ; ^ 
 the sting of the gad-fly is an arrow-point, but one not 
 forged by fire, apSi? airvpo^; ^° ; fish are " children of the 
 pure " but " voiceless," dvavBayv iraiZcov Td<; a/jLuivTov ; " and 
 lastly, if an invading army is a roaring billow, it is, never- 
 theless, a billow on dry land, KVfjba 'xepaalov.^- 
 
 Other instances of personification, all more or less strik- 
 ing, are to be found in Clio. 699, 935 and 1024 ; Ag. 817, 
 894, 983, 1434 and 1641. 
 Nature Closely Connected with this habit of personifying external 
 
 S^^^^ a nature and abstract ideas is the poetical mode of regarding- 
 meanhig.^ nature and natural phenomena as symbolical of human joy 
 or sorrow. In Aeschylus it is chiefly night and morning, 
 darkness and light, that are thus employed. Thus " sunless 
 and abhorred of man is the gloom that envelopes a house 
 when the lord is dead." ^' When the messenger reports 
 that Xerxes is alive, Atossa, his queen, exclaims, *' To my 
 house thy words have brought great light and bright morn- 
 ing after the blackness of night." '* 80, too, Agamemnon's- 
 return brings unto all " a light in the darkness," '^ even as 
 Clytaemnestra prays that "Dawn will herald gladness from 
 
 * Cf. the description of the Asopus in Pers. 806, (pi/^v 77 laafxa potcorojr 
 
 - Pers. 428, cf. Eurip. Iph. Taur. 110. •'' Sept. .-iOO. * Pr. 726-7. 
 
 s Ag. 495. « Sept. 494. ^ Ag. .SOB. » Pr. 1022, cf. Ag. 136. 
 
 » Pr. 803. 1 « Pr. 880. ^ 1 Pers. 577. ^ - Sept. 64. 
 
 ^- Cho. 51. ^* Pers. 300. ^ "^ Ag. 522, 0/. 602, 900. 
 
17 
 
 her mother, Night." ^ The irdpa to (f)m Ihelv, " the light 
 hath come to our eyes," said of the returning Orestes, is 
 repeated as a refrain.-^ The dawn may symbolize clearness 
 ot* truth, as in ropov jap rj^eL ^vvopdpov avyai<;, " clear will 
 the future come with the rays of the dawn ; " ^ or, in the 
 beautifully imaginative lines where in reply to the chorus, 
 who fail to grasp her gloomy prediction of death, Cassandra 
 says,* "'twill rush, methinks, upon (the soul), as. a fresh 
 wind blowing towards sunrise, so that wave-like a woe 
 still greater than this shall surge towards the light." 
 Lastly, in another passage,^ morn, twilight and night typify 
 life's prime, old age and death. "The stroke of justice 
 visits some in daylight, while there are sorrows that await 
 men at twilight as they linger on, but others are held in 
 the embrace of night before ^ judgment comes." 
 
 But Aeschylus can rise even higher in the personification The 
 of nature. He can see in the external world somethino'P^*^^^*^^. 
 
 1 1 c ) 1.' 1 1^1 lallacy in 
 
 more than mere symbols oi mans emotions ; ne can iindAeschy- 
 
 in inanimate things a life and spirit ready to respond to lus. 
 the anguish of a suffering hero. Prometheus uttered 
 not a word while the ministers of Zeus were pinning the 
 benefactor of man to his rocky bed in the Scythian Cau- 
 casus, but when he is left to face alone the agony of a 
 myriad years, then he pours out that immortal appeal to 
 nature, who is the sole witness of his tortures, and who 
 alone can sympathize in his sufferings :^ " Aether divine, 
 and swift- winged breezes ! Ye fountains of rivers and of 
 ocean billows the multitudinous laughter!^ Thou earth, 
 and thou, the sun's all-seeing orb, on you I call. Ye see 
 what I, a god, suffer at the hands of gods ! " ^ The Titan 
 Atlas^° has also been " brought low in shameful adamantine 
 bonds " and he is compelled, in anguish of heart, to " bear 
 up the mighty, crushing weight of earth and the vault of 
 heaven." With him, too, all nature is in sympathy ; " the 
 waves of ocean murmur as they sink in cadence, the sea- 
 depths groan, the black pit of Hades' land rumbles in 
 accord, and the fountains of pure river-streams sigh for his 
 sad grief" '^ 
 
 1 Ag. 264. 2 Oho. 961 and 972. 
 
 ^ Ag. 253. This reading, however, is due to a conjecture of Wellauer's, 
 accepted by Hermann and Dindorf, M. giving avvopOov avralg. 
 
 * Ag. 1180. 5 Cho. 61. « aKpavTog. ^ ^r. 88. ^ Blackie. 
 
 » cf. Pr. 1091-3. i« Pr. 425-430. ^^ Pr. 431-5. 
 
18 
 
 It is to be noticed that in these two instances the suf- 
 ferer who touches the heart of nature is a superhuman 
 hero, an immortal being. These are the only cases that 
 can be cited from Aeschylus as examples of what Ruskin 
 calls^ " the pathetic fallacy," and it must be admitted that 
 though the great dramatist has invested these titanic 
 figures with a thoroughly hum.an interest, yet there seems 
 to be some significance in the complete absence of the 
 pathetic fallacy where purely human heroes are concerned. 
 Feeling In the contemplation of power, strength and size, — of 
 
 Sctu-^ ocean waves, rushing torrents or lofty mountains, — the 
 resque and sense of grandeur and sublimity is necessarily excluded if 
 the grand fear and terror prevail. Friedlander^' and Secretan'^ main- 
 inscenery. ^^^^^ ^|^g^^ ^^ feeling for 'the picturesque and the grand in 
 Mountain mountain scenery was lacking in classical limes. Though 
 scenery, there is much evidence for this view, let us modify it when 
 we recall the picturesque setting given to the Prometheus, 
 whose hei'o is fettered amid the mountains of Scythia tt/jo? 
 ireTpai^ vyfrrjXoKprifjLvoi^,'^ and the interest attaching to moun- 
 tains in the narrative of lo's w^anderings in both the Sup- 
 plices^ and the Prometheus. In the latter play the Cau- 
 casus is personified in a realistic manner,*^ and the mere 
 epithet darpoy6LTova<; reveals a sense of the sublime. The 
 same is true of the yearnings of the chorus in the Suppliants 
 11. 776 AT., especially in the magnificent description of a 
 solitary peak, 11. 792-8. " Where in the firmament could I 
 find a resting-place, where the moist clouds turn into snow, 
 or some smooth, slippery crag, whose summit lies beyond 
 view, in lonely pride, — some overhanging, vulture-haunted 
 clitf?" The sublimity of these lines could hardly be sur- 
 passed. 
 Feeling As to the sea at any rate, though to the Romans it was 
 
 ^^n^Th^^* '^'^fi^'^'^'^ mare and " objet d'efi'roi plutot que d'admira- 
 briaht tion,"^ to the maritime Athenians it was a joy and delight, 
 side. With pride the poet makes the Persian elders confess that 
 it was from the Greeks their countrymen " learnt to 
 look on the ocean plain, when the broad sea is whitening 
 
 1 Modern Painters, Pt. IV., ch. 12. 
 
 - Sittengeschichte Roms, II., p. 113. 
 
 " Du sentiment de la nature, etc., p. 48. * Pr. 5. 
 
 5 11. 551-2. « 11. 720, 1. The personification may not be very strik- 
 ing to English readers, for we are familiar with such expressions as the 
 broiv or the foot of a mountain. ' Secretan, p. 73. 
 
19 
 
 with the tempest."^ Ocean, with his " quenchless stream " 
 da^earo^ Tropo?,-^ his " sleepless flood " aKoi/jirJTcp pevfjuari', 
 and " multitudinous laughter " * dvr]pt6/iiov yekao-fMa, held 
 Aeschylus with a spell of mingled reverence and afiection^ 
 
 And yet it would be easy to cite Aeschylean passages in (2) The 
 reference to the horrors and terrors of the sea, from which flark side, 
 we might infer that the sea, no less than the mountains, 
 was an object of distrust and dread. The sea is the element 
 that most frequently in simile and metaphor represents 
 evil^ or anger.^ When perfectly still it may deceive 
 us sadly, as when Helen, coming to Troy, seemed a " spirit 
 of windless calm " ^p6vr)/uLa vrjvi/jLov ya\dva<;,^ or may occa- 
 sion great distress, as in those famous lines in the Agamem- 
 non, describing the sailors' misery from the midday heat, 
 " what time on his breathless couch of noon, with ne'er a 
 wave, ocean sank to sleep." ^ 
 
 Aeschylus is fond of describing storms,'" whirlwinds and Sublimity 
 volcanic eruptions, and his loftiness of imagination is well |]^j^|g ^^ 
 illustrated by his description of the battle of Salamis,^^ of 
 the passage of the beacon flame in the Agamemnon (11. 281- 
 316), but especially by his whole conception of the Pro- 
 metheus Bound, which may be said to show us grandeur 
 in climax, closing with the wreck and crash of the world^-^. 
 (See especially 11. 915-925, 992-6, 1043-1053,1080-1093.) 
 
 ^ Pars. 108. - Pr. 5.31. ^^ Pr. 139. "- Pr. 90. 
 
 ^ It is not only the hiss of hatred, but the suggestion of mystery and 
 vastness that we detect in the assibilation of that fine line, Ag. 958, iariv 
 QaKaaaa, rlr 84 viv Karaff^eaei : 
 
 « Pr. 726, 746, 1015; Sept. 758, 1077; Pers 599; Suppl. 470; Ag. 
 1181-2; Eum. 555. 
 
 "^ Eum. 832, Koifia KeXaivov kv/jlotos iriKpov fxcyo^, a strong imaginative ex- 
 pression for civic unrest. 
 
 « Ag. 740. 9 Ag. 565-6. ^ « v. Fr. 195, 199. ^ ' Pers. 353-4.32. 
 ^'^ Cf. Dionysius, Art. Rhet. viii., 11. '0 S' ody Aiax^^os npuros v\^7)\6s^ 
 T6 KoX TfJT iJi€ya\oirp€iT€las exofiepos, K.r.K. and Aristoph. Ran. 1004. 
 
20 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 Sophocles. IISASSING to Sophocles, we may notice at the outset that 
 U^ while in the seven extant plays, taken as one whole, 
 the feeling for nature finds abundant expression, there is a 
 marked distinction in this respect between the individual 
 dramas. The Electra and Oedipus Tyrannus are almost 
 destitute of this feature, the Antigone and Ajax have it in 
 sparing degree, while the Trachiniae, Philoctetes and 
 Oedipus Coloneus display it in ample measure. The last 
 three plays, it will be observed, are undoubtedly ^ the latest 
 in date of composition and exhibit many features common 
 to Euripidean tragedy. 
 Topo- To begin with, Sophocles is very precise in regard 'to 
 
 ^^*P|."°^/ topography. The Trachinian maidens sing of the joy with 
 which the returning Heracles will be greeted by the 
 dwellers about Trachis. In a few lines^ a general sketch, 
 but an accurate picture, is given of the vicinity of Ther- 
 mopylae. The " hot springs " themselves gush forth from 
 the cliffs {ireTpala) of Oeta, beyond which to the south 
 stretch the highlands, while below to the north lies the 
 harbor {vavXoxa) of the Malian gulf.^^ 
 
 It is the same district to which the thoughts of the un- 
 fortunate Philoctetes are ever turning. " Bring me safely," 
 he prays Neoptolemus,* " to thine own home, or to Euboea, 
 seat of Chalcodon, and from there 'twill be but a short 
 journey to Oeta and the Trachinian heights, and the fair- 
 flowing Spercheius." As Jebb says, " The three names 
 here — Oeta, Trachis, the Spercheius — mark the great fea- 
 tures of the region," which would thus be accurately re- 
 called to the mind's eye of the spectator in the theatre.^ 
 
 Observe, too, the detailed description of the surroundings 
 of Philoctetes in the island of Lemnos.^ " A cave with 
 double mouth, such that in cold weather on both sides one 
 may sit in the sun, while in summer a breeze wafts sleep 
 through the pierced cell. A little below, on the left, you 
 will see perhaps a spring, if it be still preserved.'"^ 
 
 ^ Lachmann, it is true, maintained that the Oedipus Coloneus was com- 
 posed just before the beginning of the Peloponnesian war. 
 - Trach. 633-7. " See Jebb's note on the passage. 
 * Phil. 488. » Cf. Phil. 725, also 479, 664 and 1430 « Phil. 16-21. 
 ^ Of. Phil. 27 ff, 952, 1083, 1452. 
 
21 
 
 The Oedipus Coloneus best illustrates this desire for 
 topographical accuracy. The famous ocle^ on Colonus and 
 Athens owes most of its beauty to this care in portraying 
 the local features of the poet's birth-place. '* White Colo- 
 nus" is haunted by the nightingale, which sings down 
 " amid the shade of green dells " in the " sunless and wind- 
 less " grove of Dionysus and has its home where dark ivy 
 abounds and the laurel with its countless berries. Here 
 daily bloom the clustering narcissus and golden crocus 
 while the waters of Cephisus never fail. Best of all, the 
 gray-leafed olive flourishes in this land.^ 
 
 In the account which the messenger gives' of the end of 
 Oedipus we see the same attention to local description. 
 " Now when he reached the precipitous Threshold, rooted 
 in earth with steps of brass, he paused in one of the many 
 branching paths, near the basin in the rock, where the 
 solemn covenant of Theseus and Peirithous is registered. 
 Midway between this and the Thorician stone he stood, 
 even between the hollow pear-tree and the marble tomb, 
 then he sat down." The basin, stone, tree and tomb here 
 mentioned exist no longer, but w^e may be sure that 
 Sophocles is here describing with faithful detail a spot 
 familiar to most of his audience.* As for the '* precipitous 
 Threshold" /carappaKTTjv 686 z^, compare an earlier passage 
 in the play^ : " as for the spot whereon thou treadest, it is 
 called this land's Brazen Threshold, the stay of Athens." 
 In opposition to Wordsworth, Athens and Attica, ch. xxx., 
 Jebb^ proves that the " precipitous Threshold " was a natu- 
 ral chasm near Colonus (not at the foot of the Areiopagus), 
 and supposed to lead down by brazen steps to the lower 
 world ; and further, that this term threshold was extended 
 from the chasm to the neighbouring country, to v^hich the 
 epithet brazen as a poetical equivalent for rocky'' could 
 appropriately apply .^ 
 
 Such careful topography, though rarer, is not altogether 
 absent from Sophocles' earlier plays. Witness the impor- 
 tant part played in the Oedipus Tyrannus by the " branch- 
 ing roads " a-xto-rr) 686<f, that lead to the same spot from 
 
 1 O.C. 668-706. 
 
 - Cf. the shorter description O.C. 16. "^ O.C. 1590. 
 
 * Schol. in loc, ravra yvupijua TOig b/xupioic. ^ O.C. 56. 
 
 « See his introduction to O.C. §§. 11-15. 
 
 " Of. Tov^' avroTTeTpov j3//juaTor 1. 192. 
 
 '^ Of. O.C. 1059 flf. with Jebb's note. 
 
22 
 
 Delphi and from Daulia.^ With what striking dramatic 
 effect does Oedipus, after blinding himself, recall to mind 
 every feature of the scene where he unwittingly slew his 
 own father !- " O ye three roads, O thou hidden ravine^ 
 thou thicket and narrow path where three ways meet ! " 
 Vividly does he remember how he first saw the three roads, 
 running down into the deep ravine, how as he descended 
 he came to a thicket (S/ju/xo?) where his own road nar- 
 rowed to meet the other two/^ 
 
 After the self-slaughter of Ajax, the Salaminian sailors 
 at Troy long to be " where the rock, well-wooded, juts 
 into the deep and is ever beaten by the sea, below the 
 lofty tableland of Sunium."^ 
 Vividness Sophocles was evidently fond of having a definite local 
 of local picture in his mind's eye. The scene of Aiax's unhappy 
 ^ ^' end was near Troy, a place knowm to Sophocles only 
 
 through literature, yet the poet introduces local features 
 with considerable detail. Ajax in his dissembling speech 
 just before his suicide tells the sailors that he will go 
 to^ " the bathing-place in the meadow by the clifi','' where 
 a definite picture is sketched for us, and when he bids 
 farewell to the scene of his warfare, he passes in review 
 the main features of the landscape,^ — the sea, the rocky 
 caverns of the coast, the grove above the shore and the 
 streams of Scamander. 
 
 Occasionally a mere epithet will indicate the poet's 
 fidelity to local coloring. In the Ajax, 1. 695, occurs 
 KuXXai/ta? x^ovoktvttov. According to Campbell,'^ Cyllene 
 is clearly visible from the Acropolis, and in spring and early 
 summer is covered with snow. So in Oed. Tyr. 1026 
 vairaiai^ iv KL6aLpwvo<^ Trru^at? describes with peculiar 
 fitness the local features.^ In dpyrJTa KoXcovov the epithet 
 is due to the neighborhood of two knolls of light-colored 
 earth.' ev^orpv^, as an epithet of HeirdpT^do^,^^ afibrds a 
 brief yet excellent description of an island of which Pliny^^ 
 says Evoenum quondam dictam, and Heracleides Ponticus 
 (fr. 13) avTTj T) v7]ao<; €voiv6<; eari koI evhevhpo^;.^'^ 
 Poverty of As was observed in the case of Aeschylus, Sophocles too 
 
 1 O.T. 716, 733. 2 O.T. 1398 if. 
 
 3 See Jebb's note on passage. * Ai. 1217. ° Ai. 654. « Ai. 412-9, 
 '^ Note in loc. ^ See Jebb's note. 
 
 » O. C. 670, Tozer, Geog. of Greece, p. 242. ^ » Phil. 548. 
 11 H.N. 4, 23. ^ ^ See Jebb's note. 
 
23 
 
 « 
 would seem to show not infrequently a marked indifference descrip- 
 to the charms of nature. When Oedipus, now blind, Jj^^gj^^.^ 
 appears ^ with bleeding e^^es, the chorus, horror-stricken, 
 declare that it is better to be dead than living and blind.- 
 Oedipus receives their comments with scorn and indig- 
 nantly declares that there was nothing his eyes could have 
 pleasure in seeing, neither children, nor city, nor towers, 
 nor the statues of the £cods. Not a word about 
 
 " Meadow, grove and stream, 
 The earth and every common sight." 
 
 Similarly in the powerful scene where Antigone passes 
 to her living tomb, only in one short line does she heave a 
 sigh for the loss of this beautiful world : 
 
 ovKeri fjiot ToBe \a/x7ra8o9 [epbu ojjbfjba 
 6e/bLi<; opav raXalva. (Ant. 879.) 
 
 Even the grand soliloquy of Ajax,^ which closes with a 
 farewell to nature, is much more reserved in expression 
 than would be expected from a modern poet. 
 
 That this reticence is due to restraint and self-repression 
 on the part of the poet and not to the absence of sympathy 
 for nature is made evident by the later plays, notably the 
 Philoctetes and the Oedipus Goloneus. 
 
 As compared with Aeschylus,* Sophocles gives but the ^ense of 
 faintest expression to a sense of the utility of nature. The ^f nature^ 
 great Pactolus rolls down sands of gold-roz^ fjue^av UaKrcoXov 
 evxpvaov,^ but the epithet is intended to suggest the wealth 
 of Sardis, where the Phrygian Cybele was worshipped. 
 The Cephisus,*' with his sleepless springs, never fails, but 
 each day with quickening power {odKvroKo^) he flows in 
 pure tide over the bosom of the land. In this description, 
 which is perfectly true to nature,^ inasmuch as while the 
 Ilissus dries up in the summer the Cephisus is ever flowing, 
 the fructifying power of the river is quite subordinate to 
 its natural charms. 
 
 In Track. 188, Lichas, the herald, proclaims the news 
 that Heracles is alive to the Malian people eV ^ovOepel 
 Xeo/jLMvt, " in the meadow where the oxen feed in summer," 
 which is a picturesque and appropriate description in the 
 mouth of a rustic messenger. fjLrj\oTp6(f>o<; occurs as a pos- 
 
 1 0. T. 1297. - 1. 1368. 
 
 « Ai. 815 if. * See page 10. 
 
 •'•• Phil. 394. « 0. C. 68o. ■ See Jeb])'s note. 
 
24 
 
 Sensuous 
 delight in 
 nature. 
 
 Love f or 
 nature 
 secondary 
 to other 
 interests. 
 
 Nature 
 illustrates 
 human 
 life. 
 
 Illustra- 
 tions 
 from the 
 
 sible epithet of Ida in a very corrupt fragment.^ In 
 evLTTTTov - the epithet is of special significance. Attica is 
 the land in which Posidon made his gift of the horse to 
 man and Col onus was known as tTTTTio?, even as the epony- 
 mous hero of the place was called linroTrjf}.^ 
 
 Sophocles' sense of pleasure in what is bright and radiant 
 in nature is well seen in the lavish use of expressions to 
 denote splendor, brilliancy and similar ideas. Thus we 
 have Xd/uLrro), Xajjuirpo^ and derivatives 24 times as opposed 
 to Aeschylus' 13 times, and other words like av'yr), aeXa^;, 
 aLjXr), (f>aiSp6<i and similar words with the underlying 
 meaning of " bright " 47 times as opposed to Aeschylus' 36 
 times. XP^^^'^ ^^^ derivatives appear SO times in Sopho- 
 cles as opposed to 20 in Aeschylus.* 
 
 A feeling for nature in subordination to other interests 
 can be abundantly illustrated from Sophocles. The idea 
 that man has to bear joy and sorrow in constant succession 
 finds an analogy in the movement of the Great Bear in 
 the heavens.^ " Grief and joy come round to all, even as 
 the Bear circles in his path." So, too, the idea that man 
 is subject to fixed laws is well illustrated from nature in 
 Ajax 11. 669-677. " Things dread and potent give way to 
 rank. Thus the wintry storms, with tracks of snow, yield 
 to summer with her fruits ; the weary round of night 
 retires for day with his white steeds to make his light 
 arise, and shall we ne'er learn moderation ? " 
 
 As was the case w4th Aeschylus, very many of the pic- 
 tures that Sophocles draws from nature, as illustrations of 
 human life, come from the sea and the occupations of a sea- 
 going people. 
 
 The sea is an emblem of trouble or evil.^ In Ajax 351, 
 Ajax has passed through his worst frenzy, but " Behold," he 
 cries, takinij a bold figure from the ocean swell after a 
 storm, " Behold what a wave even now rolls and careers 
 about me, assailed by the cruel surge." 
 
 Sophocles' lich fancy is well seen in some splendid 
 similes. The following was suggested by II. 2, 396 : " As 
 one may see many a wave ebb and flow on the broad sea, 
 before the tireless winds from south and north, so life's 
 
 1 Fr. 469. - O. C. 668. « O. C. 59. 
 * See p. 39 for a comparison of color words in the dramatists. 
 « Trach. 130. 
 
 « Ant. 163, 541, 929 ; El. 729, 733, 1072, 1444 ; 0. T. 22, 1,527 ; O. C. 
 1746. 
 
25 
 
 troublous sea — stormy as the sea of Crete — now flings back 
 the son of Cadmus and now lifts him on high."! Here is 
 another : ^ 
 
 " As some cape, swept by the north wind, is lashed by 
 the waves in a storm, so is Oedipus ever fiercely lashed 
 by the dread waves of trouble that break upon him, some 
 from the setting of the sun, some from the rising, some in 
 the region of mid-day sun, and some from the gloom of 
 northern mountains." Still another is the following : * 
 " Happy are they whose life hath never tasted evil. . For 
 when a house hath once been shaken from heaven, the 
 curse never fails, creeping on to many generations. Even 
 as when the surge is driven o'er the darkness of the deep 
 by the fierce breath of Thracian sea-winds, it rolls up from 
 the depths the black tempestuous sand, and the cliffs, 
 meeting the crash, groan sullenly." 
 
 A sailing breeze furnishes metaphors in Trach. 467, 
 815 and 0. T. 1315. The man who is stubbornly obstinate 
 is like a bad sailor'^ " who keeping the sheet of his sail 
 taut, and never slackening it, upsets his boat and finishes 
 bis voyage with keel uppermost." Kulers are the helms- 
 men of the ship of state, Ant. 994 ; 0. T. 104, 923.' 
 
 The only rivers that furnish figures to Sophocles (and Rivers in 
 herein he is true to his surroundings) are swift mountain ^^P^***^^®*' 
 torrents. In Ant 712, where Haemon is remonstrating 
 with Creon : " Seest thou," he says, " beside the wintry 
 torrent's course how the trees that yield save their 
 branches ; those that resist perish, root and branch."* 
 When the messenger in the Oedipus Tyrannus declares 
 that the guilt of the house of Labdacus can not be washed 
 away by mighty rivers, his thoughts turn to the distant 
 Ister, and the still more distant Phasis.^ Shakespeare 
 more wisel}^ sends his Scotch murderess to " great Nep- 
 tune's ocean" (Macbeth, Act II., Sc. 2, ^Q). 
 
 A shower of rain yields a delicate fancy in Ant 528 : lllustra- 
 " A cloud upon Ismene's brow mars her flushed face and *^^^j.ietv" 
 besprinkles her fair cheek." The gush of blood from of sources. 
 Oedipus' eyes is like " a shower of hail,"^ a battle is a 
 " storm of spears " hopo<i x^i/ulcov,^ and Ajax, now tranquil, 
 
 1 Trach. 111. ^ O. C. 1240; Biese, p. 42. 
 » Ant. 586. * Ant. 715. 
 
 5 Cf. Ant. 189. Metaphors from a harbor occur in Ant. 1000, 1284 ; 
 Ai. 683 ; 0. T. 420, 423, 1208. 
 
 «Cy:Ai.205andAesch. Suppl. 469. ^O.T. 1227. ^O.T. 1279. » Ant. 670. 
 4 
 
26 
 
 ifi " like a storm from the south, which after a sharp out- 
 burst, ceases to rage, and the lightning no more flashes."^ 
 " A mighty storm," says Menelaus to Teucer, " might burst 
 from a small cloud and quench thy loud utterance."^ The 
 insolence of foes is like a fire in forest glades, when favored 
 by a breeze.-- 
 Treesand Many beautiful references do we find in Sophocles to 
 plants. trees, plants and flowers, in which he apparently found 
 genuine delight. Bacchus comes "from the ivy-mantled 
 slopes of Nysa's hills, and the shore green with many-clus- 
 tered vines."* To be sure, the iv}'- and vine are sacred to 
 the god, while the ivy possesses mystic power,^ and in 
 the Oedipus Coloneus the foliage of the laurel, olive and 
 vine shows the holy character of the grove,*^ but the Greek's 
 aesthetic sense w^as one with his spiritual.^ At white 
 Colonus, too, the green dells with their wine-hued ivy and 
 foliage of olive and vine, rich in fruit, are the haunts of 
 Dionysus the reveller and companion of nymphs.^ The 
 associations of the olive were peculiarly sacred to Atheni- 
 ans, and the description given in this same ode is full of 
 profound spiritual feeling (0. G. 694-706). The pyre of 
 Heracles^ is to be built of the " deep-rooted oak " which 
 w^as sacred to Zeus, and of the " sturdy wild olive," which 
 Heracles himself had hallowed. 
 
 The simile from the trembling aspen leaf dates back to 
 Home7\^° Sophocles used it in the Aegeus,^^ " for as in leaves 
 of long black poplar, a breeze moves at least its crest and 
 stirs the leafage there," and in Ant. 825 we find the familiar 
 figure from the clinging ivy, Kiaao^ co? arevrj^. In Fr. 363 
 the mulberry illustrates changes of color, its white bloom 
 giving way to red fruit, which ripened into black. The 
 young Teucer^" is to be nurtured by gentle breezes, like a 
 sapling, and Deianeira, describing her own maidenhood, 
 naakes beautiful use of the same illustration.^ ' " In such 
 regions of its own grows the young shoot, troubled not by 
 sun-god's heat nor rain nor any wind, but amid pleasures 
 uplifting its tranquil being, till the maiden is called a wife 
 
 1 Ai. 257. 2 Ai. 1148. 3 Ai. 197. * Ant. 1131. 
 
 - Trach. 219. « 0. C. 16. Cf. 157 and yy f^eU^cpvlAo^, 482. 
 
 " When Creon returns from the oracle he is crowned with laurel, bright 
 with berries, 0. T. 83. 
 
 *• 0. C. 670. Cf. the fine description of the beautiful vine of Nysa, 
 Fr. 234. » Trach. 1195. i<> Od. ?/, 106. 
 
 1 ^ Fr. 22. ^ 2 Ai. 558. ^ » Trach. 144. 
 
27 
 
 and finds her portion of cares in the night when she trem- 
 bles for husband or children." Thistle-down is typical 
 of restlessness and fickleness, jpaia^; aKavdr)^ TrdTnro^ 0)9 
 
 Similes from flowers are less common in Sophocles than Flowers. 
 in Aeschylus. However we have dv6o^ used of the bloom 
 of youth;- and as equivalent to clk/jlt] in aKijXrjrov jxavia^ 
 avdo^^ and foolish pride " blooms only when we are 
 young "* ev veoi<i avOel re koI ttoXlv (f)6ivet.^ 
 
 But the most famous ode in Sophocles, that on 
 Colonus,* owes not a little of its beauty to the glories of the 
 flowers. " Nourished on the dew of heaven, ever day by 
 day blooms the narcissus with fair clusters, ancient crown 
 of the great goddesses, and the crocus blooms with beam 
 of gold." It is to be noticed, however, that this is the only 
 place in Sophocles (except Fr. 863, referred to above,"^ and 
 a mention of the crocus as sacred to Demeter^), where 
 particular flowers are specified. 
 
 Turning to the animal creation, we find that of the birds Birds and 
 figuring in Sophocles the nightingale is most prominent. anin^a^«- 
 In the sacred grove to which Antigone and the blind Oedi- 
 pus have come at Colonus a feathered throng of nightin- 
 gales makes melody with " its Elysian chant " in the 
 shadow of green glades.^ In this ode, to which we have 
 already had occasion to refer several times, the poet pours 
 forth his joy in the beauties of his birth-place, and the 
 nightingale " that shuns the noise of folly " is one of 
 its greatest charms, but elsewhere in Sophocles this bird 
 though "most musical" is also "most melancholy," the 
 symbol of sadness. Electra will never cease from sighing, 
 but'° " like some nightingale that has lost her offspring 
 will sound a note of woe for all to hear," for as she again 
 explains,^^ " that bird of lament is in harmony with my soul, 
 wdiich bewails Itys, ever Itys, the bird bewildered, messen- 
 ger of Zeus." 
 
 The chorus in Ajax 139 are " full of fear, even as the eye 
 of a winged dove," and in Oedipus Coloneus, 1081, long to 
 have the wings of a dove, that from a high cloud they may 
 
 1 Fr. 784. 2 Trach. 549. 
 
 " Trach. 1000, Cf. fiaviag avdrjpbv fitvog Ant. 960. * Fr. 718. 
 
 ^ In El. 43 avdi^o) = tz7Attu, to disguise. 
 
 « O. C. 668. ' See p. 26. « Fr. 413. » 0. C. 17 and 671 3. 
 10 El. 107. 11 El. 147, cf. El. 1075 ; Ai. 629 ; Trach. 963. 
 
28 
 
 see the battle, but in the Oenomaus^ they would fain be 
 "an eagle of lofty flight, to wing their way over the 
 unharvested air, to the wave of the gray sea." The 
 eagle, a bird sacred to Zeus,^ also furnishes a simile in the , 
 Antigone,^ but Ajax is like a vulture,* in whose presence 
 the flocks of birds cower in silence, however much they 
 may clamor at other times. 
 
 Other references to birds are of a general character. 
 Deianeira is like a bird without its mate,^ and Antigone 
 " cried aloud with the sharp cry of a bird in its bitterness, 
 even as when within tlie empty nest, it sees the bed 
 stripped of its nestlings."^ In the bright early sunlight the 
 birds awake their clear songs,'' and in the Oedipus Tyran- 
 nus^ death comes swiftly " like bird on nimble wing."^ 
 
 There is a solitary reference to the bee, " the curious 
 wax-moulded work of the tawny bee,"^° and another to the 
 wasp, " wasps with black coats, their backs four-winged 
 and fettered,"^^ also a bare mention of the spider,^- and four 
 occurrences of the viper^''' or e'x^uhva (besides eight of the 
 BpaKcDv or larger reptile). No other small creatures of the 
 air or earth appear in Sophocles. 
 
 Of wild animals there are in Sophocles but scanty refer- 
 ences to the lion/* Apollo is 6 Xvkokt6vo<; ^eo?,'^ but other- 
 wise wolves are not mentioned. The Aleadae contained a 
 pleasing reference to deer, " a wandering horned hind would 
 steal down from steep hills,"^^ and this animal, being sacred 
 to Artemis, is mentioned in three other passages." 
 
 The dog in Sophocles is used for hunting,^^ or is classed 
 with beasts of prey.*^ Horses/" cows and bulls are very 
 numerous. The heifer, as in Latin poetry, can typify the 
 ^irl of marriageable age.^'^ Goats are barely mentioned.-^ 
 On the whole, Sophocles' range in the animal world is 
 narrower than that of Aeschylus. 
 
 1 Fr. 435. 2 Ant. 1040. » Ant. 113. * Ai. 167. " Trach. 104. 
 « Ant. 423. 7 El. 17. « 0. T. 175. 
 
 » Of. further Ant. 29, 205, 343, 697, 1017, 1021, 1082; Ai. 167; 0. T. 
 16; Phil. 1146. 
 loFr. 366. iiFr. 26. ^^ pr. 264. 
 
 13 Ant. 531; Phil. 627, 632; Trach. 771. 
 
 14 Only Phil. 401, 1436 ; Trach. 1093 ; Fr. 154. ^^ e1. 6. 
 
 i« Fr. 86. 17 El. 568 ; 0. C. 1092 and Trach. 214. i« Ai. 8. 
 
 18 Ant. 206, 257, 697, 1017, 1081 ; Ai. 297, 830. ^o j^ge Biese, p. 40. 
 •^1 Trach. 530. 
 - - Ai. 374, cf. KapiKol rpdyot Fr. 497 antl 6a'/Adv xi^j^fiipat^ 7rpoa(j>epo)v, Fr, 461. 
 
29 
 
 Much of Sophocles' feeling for nature is, as we are Feeling 
 to expect, half-hidden under mythological formulae. The ^^y^^^^^^l 
 first stasimon^ in the Oedipus Tyrannus well illustrates in mytho- 
 the poet's delight in splendor and brightness, expressed in logical 
 terms of mythology. We have " golden Py tho," " gleaming ^®""^* 
 Thebes," " Zeus, wielder of the fiery lightning's power," "Ly- 
 cean king, with shafts from strings of gold," " the fiaming 
 glint of Artemis, wherewith she darts through the Lycian 
 hills," "ruddyBacchus, with snood of gold and torch of gleam- 
 ing face." So with the grand hymn to Bacchus, in the Anti- 
 gone.'- The god " dwells by the soft streams of Ismenus," 
 and is seen " above the twin peaks " of Parnassus, by the 
 " torch-flames gleaming through smoke, where dance the 
 Corycian nymphs, hard by the Castalian fount." He has 
 come " from the ivy-mantled slopes of Nysa's hills, and the 
 shore green with clustered vines." He is " leader of the 
 stars, whose breath is fire and master of the voices of the 
 night." 
 
 At Colonus,' " in the sanctity of his leafy grove, which 
 the sun never sees, and the stormy winds leave untouched, 
 the reveller Dionysus ever treads the ground, ranging 
 
 with the nymphs that nursed him Nor have the 
 
 Muses' choir abhorred this spot nor Aphrodite of the 
 golden rein." In the Ajax*' Pan is to come to the soldiers 
 at Troy "roving o'er the sea, leaving the snow-smitten 
 ridges of Cyllene." The sea is in the domains of Posidon, 
 " who sways the Aegean headlands or the gray calm 
 sea, haunting the lofty, wave-swept rocks."^ The Malians 
 dwell on the "shore sacred to the virgin of the golden 
 shafts."^ Other instances of less importance are to be 
 found in El. 180 (Apollo), 0. G. 1600 (Demeter), Phil. 391 
 (Cybele), Phil. 725 (nymphs of Malis), Ant. 825 (Niobe 
 turned into stone). 
 
 In studying a Greek poet, it is often hard to determine Personiti- 
 where the vivid personification ends, and we enter the cation, 
 region of mythology. When Philoctetes, for example, lies 
 in lonely anguish, " ever- babbling Echo, appearing afar, 
 responds to his bitter cries."^ This personifying tendency 
 is less common in Sophocles than in Aeschylus. See, 
 
 1 0. T. 151-202. 2 Ant. 1115-1152. 
 
 » 0. C. 668-719. * Ai. 695. 
 
 ° Fr. ,342, with Herwerden's TTolevuv for the corrupt aToudruv. 
 
 « Trach. 636. ^ Phil. 188, cf. 1458. 
 
30 
 
 Symbol- 
 ism of 
 nature. 
 
 Person- 
 ality of 
 nature 
 and the 
 pathetic 
 fallacy in 
 Sophocles. 
 
 however, 0. T. 474, eXafi-fe ^dfia ; ih. 873 i/ySpt? ^vrevet 
 Tvpavvov ; ih. 1090 w KtOaipcov ; Phil. 826, a beautiful hymn 
 to Sleep ; Ant. 100 where the aKTk deXlov, " the eye of 
 golden day " is said to have put the Argives to flight. ^ 
 
 The poetic symbolism of light and darkness, noticed in 
 Aeschylus, is frequent in Sophocles too. The madness 
 that had seized Ajax was like a dark cloud before the eyes 
 of his Salaminian followers,- but as he recovers and their 
 spirits rise Zeus brings to them the " bright and cheerful 
 light of day."" In his wretchedness Ajax prays for dark- 
 ness as his only light, the darkness of the grave* — Ico gkoto^, 
 ijjbov (f)do^, ep6^o(; m (fiaevvorarov — and the blind Oedipus, as 
 he leaves this mortal scene, bids farewell to the light that 
 to him is but darkness, o) (f>m d(j)eyy6<;.^ Deianeira, hear- 
 ing of Heracles' return, exclaims, '' the light of this mes- 
 sage hath risen on us beyond hope."^ So " bespangled 
 night abides not with men, nor sorrows, nor wealth."^ Here 
 sorrows and night are alike, and so are day and wealth, 
 but the parallelism is not complete in expression. 
 
 The consciousness of the personality of external nature 
 and of sympathy between nature and man is more promi- 
 nent in Sophocles then in Aeschylus. Electra pours forth 
 her tale of sorrow to the " pure light and air commensu- 
 rate with the earth."^ The light of heaven will naturally 
 in its purity receive with indignation the story of Electra's 
 wrongs, even as in another passage* neither the earth nor 
 the holy rain nor the light will welcome the polluted 
 Oedipus. Electra appeals to the " large air," because it 
 is all-embracing and can take the news to the absent 
 Orestes. 
 
 A similar idea underlies the beautiful and imaginative 
 passage" where the chorus pray the sun to bring them 
 news of Heracles. " Thou whom night, all-gleaming 
 (aloXa), brings forth, even as she is despoiled, and yet 
 again (re) puts to rest in thy flaming glory, tell me, I pray, 
 O suA-god, where, O where abides Alcmena's son ? O thou 
 that blazest in flashing splendor, is he in the straits of the 
 sea, or is he at rest on either continent ? "^^ 
 
 Again, in the Antigone,^'- the bright sun, the uktU dekiov, 
 
 ^ Cf. Ant. 879 and Ai. 674. "- Ai. 706. 
 
 ' 1. 709. * Ai. 395. " 0. C. 1549, cf. 0. T. 374 and 0. C. 183. 
 
 « Trach. 203, cf. O. T. 987. ^ Trach. 131. « El. 86. 
 
 » 0. T. 1427. i« Trach. 94. ^^ Cf. Ai. 845. ^^ Ant. 100. 
 
31 
 
 TO KoXKiaTov (fido^ "stirred into rout" the Argive 
 
 host. The rout took place at sun-rise, but it was the sun 
 himself who rose and fought for Thebes. 
 
 It is a vivid sense of the personality of nature that leads 
 to such pathetic utterances as those of Ajax, when he says 
 farewell to the scenes of his warfare, and either thanks 
 them tor their nurture^ — " ye fountains and rivers of this 
 land, and plains of Troy that have nurtured me !" — or gently 
 chides them for their faithlessness^ — " O paths of the surg- 
 ing deep, ye caverns by the sea and grove beside the strand, 
 
 long time now, too long have ye kept me at Troy 
 
 Ye streams of Scamander, my neighbors, kindly now to 
 the Argives, no longer shall ye see me ! " 
 
 Antigone, too, when deserted by man, turns in appeal' to 
 " the fountains of Dirce and grove of Thebes," even as 
 Polynices, in a similar plight, invokes the fountains and 
 gods of his race.* 
 
 But nowhere in Sophocles is the sympathy of Nature 
 for suffering mortals more poetically set forth than in the 
 .Fhiloctetes. The unhappy victim " stripped of all life's 
 gifts, lies alone, apart from all else, with the dappled or 
 hairy beasts, piteous in his miseries and his hunger, bearing- 
 torture without relief, while ever-babbling Echo, appearing 
 afar, responds to his bitter cries."^ When Neoptolemus 
 strips him of his bow, his sole means of livelihood, he turns 
 to where alone he can look for sympathy, the " familiar 
 presences " ot* nature. " Ye bays and headlands," he cries, 
 " ye, my companions, the beasts of the hills, ye steep cliffs ! 
 to you — for to whom else can I speak ? — to you, my 
 wonted audience, I bewail my treatment at the hands of 
 Achilles' son."^ Neoptolemus and Odysseus leave him to 
 his fate, and the poor victim of their outrage turns with 
 helpless appeal to the cave that had been so long his home 
 and must shortly be witness of his death.^ At last, 
 ordered by Heracles himself to go with Neoptolemus to 
 Troy, Philoctetes bids a loving farewelP to the cave and 
 his island home, its w^aters and meadows, its sea-beaten 
 <;ape and Hermaean mount. Finally' he prays the island 
 herself to give him a parting blessing.^'' 
 
 1 Ai. 862-3. 2 Ai. 412-421. a Ant. 844. 
 
 ,* O. C. 1.333. = Phil. 180-190. « Phil. 936-940. ' Phil. 1081, 
 
 8 Phil. 1452 ff. 9 Phil. 1464. Cf. Biese, pp. 45-6. 
 1 See Butcher, pp. 279, 280 on this topic. 
 
 ' Ot Till 
 
32 
 
 Sophocles The imagination of Sophocles is not as lofty or grand as 
 
 sublinfity^ ^^ that of Aeschylus, and the illustrations of sublimity ta 
 
 His treat- be found in his plays are not very numerous.^ In regard 
 
 ment of to mountains, he has indulged in no extended descriptions 
 
 tain" ^^ them, but has merely referred to them in brief allusions. 
 
 Mountains serve frequently as important landmarks, as in 
 
 0. C. 1059, " Perchance the captors will soon approach the 
 
 pastures- on the west of Oea's snowy rock," and 0. T. 474, 
 
 where the command from Delphi is said to have " flashed 
 
 forth from snowy Parnassus," and Ai. 693, where the 
 
 Salaminian sailors beg Pan to come over the sea to them, 
 
 " leaving the snow-smitten ridges of Cyllene." 
 
 The use of the same or similar epithet in each of these 
 instances might suggest that the description is merely 
 conventional, and yet in each case Sophocles appears to 
 have seized on a characteristic feature of the landscape. 
 " Oea's snowy rock," overlooking the Thriasian plain, was 
 doubtless a familiar sight to all residents of Attica. The 
 climate of Attica in ancient days seems to have been colder 
 than to-day, and snow therefore fell on Mount Aegaleos 
 later in the season than at present. As for Parnassus and 
 Cyllene, even now they are covered with snow as late as 
 the month of May, the former being one of the most con- 
 spicuous mountains in central Greece, and the latter being 
 " clearly visible from the Acropolis " of Athens.^ The 
 Rhipaean mountains, of w^hich nothing would be known 
 to Sophocles from personal observation, are " wrapped in 
 night," and from them come the blasts of Boreas.* 
 
 When not acting as landmarks, the mountains of Sopho- 
 cles serve merely to localize deities, or to furnish a scene 
 for unnatural and supernatural events. Pan, who haunts 
 " the snow-smitten ridges of Cyllene,"^ is called " mountain- 
 roving,"^ an epithet applied also to wild beasts.^ Hermes, 
 too, is " lord of Cyllene,"^ the Bacchic god " dwells on the 
 mountain tops,"^ and Zeus makes his " lightnings flash 
 over the high glens of Oeta,"^'' which mountain w^as sacred 
 
 * Good illustrations are Fr. 1027 and Ant. 605. The latter is probably 
 the best example in Sophocles. 
 
 - Reading Hartung's etg vojuov for ek vo/uov. 
 
 '^- See CampbeH's note on Ai. 695 ; Jebb's Modern Greece, p. 75 ; Tozer,, 
 pp. 43, 139, 266. 
 
 * O. C. 1248. 5 Ai. 693. « 0. T. 1100 bpeaoi^drrjg. 
 ^ Ant. 350. ^ 0. T. 1104. ^ 0. T. 1105. 
 
 1 « Trach. 436, cf, 200. 
 
33 
 
 to him. On this Oeta Heracles gives orders to Hyllus to 
 build the funeral pyre and burn him alive.^ 
 
 It is on mount Cithaeron that the infant Oedipus was 
 exposed. While the king's parentage is yet unknown, the 
 chorus sing the praises of Cithaeron as the nursling mother 
 of Oedipus.^ Some nymph of Helicon brought him to 
 birth, and his father was a " mountain-roving " god. When 
 the terrible secret of his birth is at last disclosed, Oedipus 
 who means henceforth to avoid the haunts of men, begs 
 Creon to let him end his days on that Cithaeron which is 
 now known as his own, and on which his parents had 
 intended that he should die.-^ 
 
 As for references to the sea or the ocean, "great deep ofHistreat- 
 Amphitrite,"* Sophocles is much more sparing in their use "}^^* ^^ 
 than Aeschylus. Similes and metaphors from the sea 
 are, as we have shown,' common enough, and some of these 
 disclose the poet's power of grasping the picturesque, but 
 outside of these Sophocles nowhere gives us more than the 
 slightest description of her beauties or her terrors.* 
 
 " Most wonderful of all wonders is man," sings the 
 Antigone chorus.'' " This is the creature that crosses the 
 white sea, driven by the stormy south wind, making a 
 path amid the seething surges." The spirit of this passage 
 is not unlike that of Horace, Carni. I., 3, though in Horace 
 man is declared guilty of impiety in joining together lands 
 which God had put asunder by means of the Oceanus 
 dissociabilis, while Sophocles merely marvels at man's 
 ingenuity in coping with the powers of nature. 
 
 The sea and the wilderness are on the same footing in 
 Ant 785, for Love ranges alike " over the sea and in nooks 
 among the wilds," so that Love, like man in the previous 
 example, can surmount all difficulties. 
 
 To Philoctetes, lingering perforce on the lonely isle of The sea 
 
 Lemnos, the siorht of the sea brought a sense of despair f^^S^sts 
 
 , . , ' , P , . ° *- loneliness, 
 
 and utter desolation; 
 
 " So lonely 'twas, that God himself 
 Scarce seemed there to be." 
 
 Philoctetes^ " makes no music of the reed like shepherd 
 
 1 Trach. 1191. ^ q t. 1086, cf. Horn. II. 8, 47, "Idrjv lirjrepa Orfpuv, 
 
 » O. T. 1451-4. * 0. T. 195. 
 
 ^ See above, p. 24. 
 
 * TrdvTov xO'PO'^ov oidjua occurs in a dubious fragment, Fr. 1025. 
 
 ^ Aut. 332. '^ Phil. 212. 
 
34 
 
 in the pastures, but he raises a far-echoing cry, perchance 
 as he stumbles in pain, or as he gazes on the harbor^ 
 where no ship is a guest." And again,i " How, I ween, a& 
 in his solitude he heard the surges beat around him, 
 how did he hold to a life so full of tears ? " Here is " the 
 eternal note of sadness " that Matthew Arnold found in 
 Sophocles.'-^ Arnold, too, as he listens to 
 
 " the grating roar 
 Of pebbles which the waves draw back and fling, 
 At their return, up the high strand, "^ 
 
 sighs like Philoctetes over the vanity of life and longs for 
 human love. 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 Euripides. iCURIPIDES, the last of the great Attic tragedians, is 
 for the purposes of our study, the most important 
 member of the trio. While only seven plays of Aeschylus 
 and seven of Sophocles have survived, Euripides has suf- 
 fered less misfortune at ' the hands of time, and nineteen 
 of his dramas have come down to us in their entirety, 
 besides a much larger number of the fragments of others. 
 His But in addition to the greater mass of material which he 
 
 greater furnishes, we shall find that Euripides, representing as 
 cance. ^^ ^^^^ ^^^ tendencies in art, religion, morals and philo- 
 sophy, will furnish significant results when we study him 
 in reference to the subject in hand, 
 rh-st Euripides is the first of the romanticists.* In his atti- 
 
 of the tude towards nature he differs very considerably from his- 
 romanti- predecessors, and this, we have reason to believe, is one of 
 the important causes of Aristophanes' pronounced hostility 
 to the poet. 
 Romantic It is not to be expected, however, that Euripides will 
 
 and de- break completely with the past. In him, no less than in 
 scriptive 
 
 1 Phil. 690. 2 gee also the simile in Trach. Ill, p. 24, and that 
 
 in Ant. 586, p. 25. ^ Dover Beach. 
 
 * Of. Butcher, Dawn of Romanticism in Greek Poetry, in his book 
 " Some Aspects of the Greek Genius," p. 292. " He was in fact the first 
 of the sentimental poets, and the forerunner of modern romanticism." 
 
35 
 
 his predecessors, we may find at times what seems a barren- 
 striking poverty of romantic feeling or descriptive orna-^^^J^j^ 
 ment. In this respect the Greek virtue of reserve and Euripides, 
 moderation, voiced by the proverb fjujSev dyav, is cer- 
 tainly characteristic of Euripides, as compared with many 
 modern poets. As an illustration, compare a passage in 
 Goethe's Iphigenie (III. 3), with its wonderful original 
 (Eurip. Iph. Taur. 1398 If.), where in that anxious moment 
 when the exiles are safely on board, but the sailors in vain 
 try to work the ship off the coast, and their enemies are 
 close upon them, Iphigenia stands and prays passionately 
 to Artemis. 
 
 (TMGov fJL€ T7JV aijv leplav 7rpo<; 'EXXaSa 
 e/c ^ap/Sdpov >yrj<; koI KkoTral^ GVfy<yv(o6^ ifiaU. 
 0tXet9 Be Kai av crov xaalyvT^rov, Bed' 
 <f)L\elv Be KCLfxe tov? ofialpLova^i S6k€i. 
 
 The powerful brevitj^ of the Greek poet stands in strik- 
 ing contrast to the greater diffuseness of the modern, who 
 expands the thought of these four lines into fifteen in the 
 German. Goethe, in love with the sentiment, lingers upon 
 the affecting scene. 
 
 In the Andromache of Euripides the subject of a choral 
 ode^ is the judgment of Paris. The son of Maia and Zeus 
 goes to the Idaean wood, leading the three divinities. 
 '• Soon as they reached the wooded glen, they bathed their 
 dazzling bodies in the streams of mountain rills and betook 
 them to the son of Priam." Beautiful and picturesque, 
 but how brief and unadorned when compared with the 
 rich and romantic coloring of Tennyson's Oenone ! 
 
 The Bevacleidae, in which Athens, the home of the poet 
 and of the chorus in the play, is threatened by an Argive 
 host, is almost wholly devoid of descriptive ornament. 
 
 In a choral song'^ in the Troades, the Trojan women 
 w^onder to what country they will be carried captive. 
 
 They would fain go to the Kketvav Srjaico^i evBal/nova 
 
 X<opav, but not to the eddying Eurotas Bivav ^vpcora. A 
 modern lyric poet would not be content with such bald- 
 ness of description, especially if treating of the country 
 that was his own home. 
 
 1 Androm. 284. 2 Xro. 208. 
 
36 
 
 Similarly Andromache, in apostrophizingi Helen as the 
 destroyer of her native land, simply says :- tcl Kkeiva 
 irehl ' a'Tr(i)\e(Ta<i ^pvjcov, where we might expect some out- 
 burst of tender sentiment upon the beauties of Troy. 
 
 In a very long ode*^ of 102 lines in the Hercules Furens, 
 the subject being the twelve labors of the hero, we find 
 in the first half only two epithets, descriptive of places, 
 Hr]v€Lo^ 6 /caXXtSiW?* and dpyvpoppvTav'^ E^pov^ and in the 
 latter half, which sings of the hero's journey from the 
 Garden of the Hesperides in the remote west to the land 
 of the Amazons in the far east, there are not more than 
 three such epithets. This sparingness of description, 
 though not true of other parts of the play, is a curious 
 coincidence with the Aeschylean character of diction 
 thioughout this drama.* Other plays, which are compa- 
 ratively barren in descriptive coloring, are the Hecuba, 
 Andvomiache and Heracleidae. 
 Sense of The utilitarian view of nature finds frequent expres- 
 of Vatufe^ sion in Euripides. We read of " Phrygia's fruitful fields,"^ 
 of " Dirce's green lands of rich tilth,"^ of the " fruit-bearing 
 vales of Delos,"^ of Boeotia's " rich corn-lands,"^" of the 
 " fine soil of Ida's holy hill,"" of Thessaly " heavy with rich 
 fruitage,"^^ of Salamis " land of vines,"^^ of Hellas '■ land of 
 horses,"" of Sunium's " silver-veined rock,"^^ of the Lydians 
 " rich in gold,"^^ the Tmolus, ''with its streams of gold,"" and 
 the Pangaeus, with its " soil of gold."^^ Apidanus '' makes 
 fat the plains " of Phthia,'' the Nile " fructifies " Paphos,='<» 
 and in the Garden of the Hesperides " the life-giving earth 
 gives joy to the gods."-^ 
 
 In a well-known fragment-^ Euripides contrasts Laconia 
 with Messenia. The former has " much corn-lacd, but it 
 is hard to work. It is a valley, surrounded by mountains, 
 rugged and inaccessible to the foe." Messenia is " rich in 
 fruits, is watered by countless streams, and affords good 
 pasture for flocks and herds. It is neither bleak and 
 swept with winter's blasts, nor is it burnt with the heat 
 from the sun's four steeds." 
 
 1 Androm. 766 ff. ^ jb, 773. 3 h. F. 34S-450. * 1. 368. 
 
 ^ 1. 386. « See Paley, introd. to H. F. 
 
 7 Androm. 1045. » Phoen. 648. » Iph. Taur. 1235. 
 
 10 Phoen. 644, rf. Bac. 749. ^^ Or. 1383, (/. Fr. 229. ^^ Tro. 216. 
 
 13 Fr. 530. 1* Iph. Taur. 132. ^^ Cyc. 294, cf Rhe. 970. 
 
 i« Bac. 13. 1^ Bac. 154. ^^ Rhes. 921. ^^ Hec. 451. 
 
 20 Bac. 406. 21 Hip. 750. 22 ^r. 1083. 
 
37 
 
 Strabo, who has preserved^ the fragment just quoted, J^ess care- 
 approves of the description therein given by Euripides, g^pf^^^^^j^^^ 
 but he proceeds to criticize the poet's geographical know- in topo- 
 ledge, complaining that he makes the Pamisus the boun- graphical 
 dary between Laconia and Messenia, represents the latter ^^^^^'^^^' 
 as remote from the sea and is inaccurate in his account of 
 Elis. It is possible that some similar mistake on the 
 part of the poet accounts for the strange statement which 
 appears in Bac. 406, that Paphos is enriched by the Nile.- 
 
 It would seem then that in regard to topographical accu- Certain 
 racy Euripides differs from Sophocles. We find in him, it^i^'^^^ 
 is true, a few evidences of the desire to present vivid pic- 
 tures of localities. In the Bacchae a very graphic descrip- 
 tion,' contained in less than two lines, is given of the 
 scene where Pentheus met his fate — lofty rocks on either 
 side, running streams below, and the towering pines above. 
 
 Mark, too, the description of the spot where disaster 
 overtook Hippolytus.* " We were entering on a waste 
 spot, a piece of the shore on yonder side of this land, run- 
 nino- down straight to the Saronic gulf." When the huo-e 
 wave rolled in " it robbed our eyes of the cliffs of Sciron, 
 hiding the Isthmus and the rock of Asclepius."^ 
 
 These are excellent descriptions, such as an eye-witness Euripides' 
 might have given, but most of the places described ^5^^"p- 
 by Euripides were probably unfamiliar to him except ^^,^^^^.^1 
 through the medium of literature. In describing them he not 
 indulges in broad picturesque epithets and general charac- ^P^^i^^- 
 terizations, but does not write " with his eye on the object." 
 Travellers to distant lands pass through " savage tribes 
 and pathless ways."'' Libya has " desolate and unfriendly 
 landing-places "' with " Ammon's parched abodes."® Argos 
 is a " thirsty " land,^ Media " wintry,"^" Thrace, a region of 
 snow^' and Olympus has " forest coverts."^- Many epithets, 
 while picturesque, are general rather than specific. A 
 stream, river or fountain is " fair-flowincj "i' or " lovely,"^* 
 
 1 Strabo, 8, 366. 
 
 - Meineke conjectured x^^^'^f^ for ITd^ovand Nauck accepts the emenda- 
 tion. 
 
 ■' Bac, 1051. See Sandys' Bacchae, p. Ixx. Throughout the Bacchae, 
 indeed, the local coloring is very true to Nature. Cf. Sandys on Bacchae, 
 1. 38. 
 
 * Hip. 1198. ^ 1. 1206. « Iph. Taur. 889. ^ Hel. 404. 
 
 » Ale. llo. I Ale. 560. 1" Bac. 15. ^^ Androm. 215. ^-^ Bac. 560. 
 1" Tro. 810 ; Iph. Aul. 420 ; Hec. 650 ; Med. 885. '* llec. 451. 
 
38 
 
 the sea-beach " wave-receiving,"^ theDelian hill a "ridge over 
 the sea,"^ and Helen's eyes are simply KoXkLara o/jufiaTa.^ 
 
 Euripides is even more lavish than Sophocles in his use 
 
 of terms that denote bi-illiance and splendor, and he has 
 
 Love of a wider vocabulary. He uses Xafxirpo^, Xa/uLTrpuvoy, Xd/jLTro) 
 
 and*^^^^ and its compounds, no less than dQ times, and inckides in 
 
 splendor, ^^is vocabulary the adjectives <^aevv6'i^ KaWL(f>€jy}]<i, BuTreTr]^, 
 
 aWoyfr^ eva'yr)^, dyXao^, aLy\d<;, 7ra/jL(f)a^<s, <j)Xoy6p6<!;^ Xtirapo'iy 
 
 aWaXoei^, /jLapfxapcoTro^, cjicoacpopo'^, besides '^pvaeo'^ and 
 
 other derivatives from ^j^/jucro? ;* the nouns, avyd^w, aiyXi], 
 
 aarpairr}, aeXa^, arepOTnj ; the verbs, avyd^w, p^apfjuaipa), 
 
 (jiXeyo), (fyXeyedco, daTpdmo), aWw, aTiX/Sco, (paeOco. 
 
 A study of Euripides' color-terms yields some interesting 
 results. He indulges in much more frequent references to 
 Euripides' color and has a considerably wider range of color-vocabu- 
 color- ig^j^y ^j^g^jj (} i th c r Aeschylus or Sophocles. 
 
 Med. Taking first the primary colors, he uses for red 
 (jyotpi^ and derivatives (the meaning determined by its 
 application to blood and fire)^ 12 times. To these might be 
 added several instances of cpovio^^ (color of blood) and such 
 words as ha(f)0iv6<^ {Ale. 581), 8iat/jL0<; (Hec. 650), aWoyjr (Sup, 
 1019, Bac. 594, Fr. 896), o^Wtto? {Bac. 236, 438 ; Ph. 1167; 
 Iph. Taur. 1245). He has also 8 instances of Trvpao^ with 
 compounds and Trvpa-alvo), " reddish brown."^ 
 
 Green. 'xXn^p6<i and compounds, used of color, occur 6 
 times,® with yXorj, ')(Xoep6<i and other derivatives 20 times. 
 Not included are 6 instances of ')(Xcop6^ used of wine (Cy. 
 67), tears (Hel. 1189 ; Med. 906, 922), flowers (Iph. Aul. 
 1297) and blood (Hec. 127j, the epithet here meaning /res/?, 
 or sparkling. 
 
 Violet. No instance in any of the dramatists.^ 
 
 1 Hip. 1173. ' Iph. Taur. 1240. '' Tro. 772. 
 
 * Besides 16 instances of XP'^^^^-, Euripides has 56 of ;fpt'CTeof and 52 of 
 compounds of XP'^^^^- Sophocles has 3 of ;j;py(7d^', 11 of ;i;pi'o-eof and 16 of 
 compounds of xp^f^og. = Cf. Hec. 151 and Tro. 815. 
 
 6 Viz., Ion 1263; Tro. 1318 ; Hel. 1095 ; Sup. 77, 690 ; EI. 484; Or. 
 1406 ; Ph. 657. It is often hard to determine whether the idea of color or 
 of bloodshed is the prominent one. ' Applied to yivvg, x"-'-~^, dep/xa, (pM^. 
 
 « Cf. Hip. 17 ; Hel. 349 ; Bac. 38 ; Iph. Aul. 759 ; Fr. 907. In these 
 passages it is used of the forest, reeds, fir-trees, bay-leaves, and figs. 
 
 ^ The same is the case with Vergil and Ovid, and indeed with most 
 poets. Edgar Allen Poe is one of the few modern poets that have indulged 
 in violet. See " Ovid's Use of Colour " in Classical Studies in Honour of 
 Henry Drisler, Macmillan '94, and Price, ' ' Color-system of Virgil, " 
 American Journal of Philology, Vol. IV. Cf., too, Hopkins in "Words 
 fnr Color in the Rig- Veda," A. J. P. IV., and Havelock Ellis in "The 
 Colour-Sense in Literature," Contemporary Revieio, May, 1896. 
 
39 
 
 Of other bright colors Euripides has 31 instances of 
 yellow, viz. : ^av66<;^ and ^dv6i(T/jba, 27, and 4 derivatives 
 of icpoKo^.'^ Picturesque epithets like ^pvaoKOfjur)^ and 
 Xpva-avravyri^ might be added. He has also 5 cases of 
 ^ovOo^y " brownish yellow." ^ 
 
 Blue. Euripides has 17 instances of Kvdv€o<; and other 
 derivatives from Kuavo<;^ To these must be added 9 
 instances of y\avK6<i and <y\avK(Jt)7n,<i, a lighter blue.^ 
 
 Purple. There are 10 instances of irop(j)vpeo<; and allied 
 words.* 
 
 In regard to whites, blacks and grays, we find in Euri- 
 pides tuhite used 69 times, viz., XevKa^;, Xevfcaivo), Xeu/co?, 
 and compounds 63 ; compounds of %tftjz/, 4 ; dpy€vv6<i and 
 apyaiveiv, once each. Black is used 55 times, viz. : jxeka^ and 
 compounds, 48 times ; K6\aLv6<;, 7 ; besides a great variety 
 of expressions, meaning dark.'' Gray — 7roX,io9 and com- 
 pounds — occurs 27 times. 
 
 Comparing the three tragedians we find that in vjhite Compared 
 Aeschylus (20)^ and Sophocles (19)^ are on a par, but Euri- ^'^^^J^^^ 
 pides is in excess. In black Euripides falls proportionately Aeschylus 
 somewhat behind Sophocles (22),^** and the sombre Aeschylus and 
 has nearly as many instances^^ in his seven plays as Euri- ^ °^ ^^* 
 pides in his nineteen. Gray is hardly found in Aeschylus^^ 
 and in Sophocles TroXto? occurs only 4 times. Med is rare 
 in both Aeschylus and Sophocles. The simple (f>olvt^ does 
 not occur in either, but Aeschylus has the compounds 
 (fiovviKo^aTTTO'^ {Eurni. 1028) and (f)OiVLK6'Treho^ (Fr. 192 D.). 
 ipvOpo^ is found twice in Aeschylus and (polvco^; may be 
 used of color in Sept. 737. In Sophocles ^o[vto<; is never 
 used distinctly of color, but (jioivlao-w (rubesco) occurs in 
 Fr. 462 D. and olv(oy\t occurs twice {O.G. 674 and O.T. 211). 
 Green, so common in Euripides, does not occur in Aeschylus 
 
 ^ In Iph. Taur. 633 of olive-oil, elsewhere of hair. 
 
 - Of garments or flowers. 
 
 •'• In four cases of bees and in the fifth (Hel. 1111) of the nightingale's 
 throat. 
 
 * Chiefly of the sea or ships. Also vtt b(ppv(yL Kvavavyiat of Hades 
 ^Alc. 260), and KvavoTrrepog bpvig, Andr. 862. 
 
 5 Mainly of the sea, the olive and Athene. In Sup. 258 ylavKf/v x'^otjv 
 is ' ' pale-green foliage ". 
 
 " Of the sea, shell-fish and garments. "^ See p. 74, note 9. 
 
 ** viz., "kevKOQ and cpds. 15, apyrjOTijQ 2, apyrjQ, apyrjeig and 'kk'napyoq^ 
 once each. 
 
 ^ viz., "^^^^vKoq and cpds. 15, hpyrjq and allied words 4. 
 ' '* viz., //eAaf and cpds. 13, Kz7Miv6q and cpds. 7, ^pe/xvoq 2. 
 ^^ i.e. 50, viz., /if?^ac and cpds. 36, Kehiivdg and derivatives 13, i:pefiv6q 
 once. ^ - ~o?jaivo) once and ttoTiioc = vetustuH once. 
 
40 
 
 and is rare in Sophocles.^ As to blue, Kvdveo<; is not found 
 in Sophocles, nor is yXavKo^ in Aeschylus. In the latter 
 writer Kvdveo^ and KvavtoirL^ occur twice each, while 
 Sophocles uses y\avK6<; 4 times and fyXavKcoin^ once. Yel- 
 low is rare in Aeschylus - and not frequent in Sophocles.* 
 Purple, a foreign color, is in comparative excess in Aes- 
 chylus,* in whom there is an Oriental strain, but hardly 
 occurs in Sophocles.^ 7rvp(/6<; or compound occurs twice 
 in Aeschylus, but nowhere in Sophocles. ^ov66^ is found 
 twice in Aeschylus and only once in Sophocles.^ To sum 
 up, if we omit from the discussion white and black, as 
 being common to all the dramatists, only in Euripides are 
 colors used with freedom and variety. With the exception 
 of purple, neither Aeschylus nor Sophocles uses any color 
 with the same comparative frequency as Euripides, in 
 whom we find numerous instances of yellow, gray, blue, 
 green and red. 
 
 Euripides also uses a number of terms which signify 
 variety in colors. Thus he has 5 instances of ySaXto?,^ a 
 term used by neither Aeschylus nor Sophocles, 12 of 
 
 1 X/Mpoq, of color, four times, x^-^^ <ioes not occur. 
 
 2 ^avdui- once ; KpoKog and derivatives three times. 
 
 3 ^avdoc five times and KpoKog tvs^ice. 
 
 * 7rop(pvf)£og and allied words five times. 
 
 ^ TTop(j)vpa once, Fr. 449 b (Ellendt). 
 
 ^ A comparison made between Euripides, Vergil and Ovid reveals the 
 fact that these poets resemble each other closely in the relative promin- 
 ence they give to the various color-groups, cf. page 3. But such a com- 
 parison must not be pressed too far. That mere philologists often draw 
 extravagant inferences from the presence or absence of color-terms is 
 made very clear by Mr. Grant Allen in his book on " The Colour-Sense.'' 
 See especially pp. 264-7. Mr. Allen reduces Gladstone's arguments as to 
 the color-sense in antiquity ad absurduni by counting up the color-terms 
 in Swinburne's " Poems and Ballads, " and again in Tennyson's " Prin- 
 cess." He adds : " Observe, in Mr. Swinburne's case, the want of variety, 
 the paucity of colour-terms as a whole— the total absence of orange, lilac, 
 pink, aTMve, safron, vermilion or lavender. This absence is due to the 
 fact that Mr. Swinburne faithfully echoes the old ballad poetry, with its 
 relatively poor but strong vocabulary— its preference of bold outline to 
 finished detail. There are none of the conventional prettinesses of the 18th 
 century ; none of the refined distinctions of our modern miniature word- 
 painters. Mr. Tennyson puts in colour phrases with the fidelity of a 
 Dutch landscape ; but Mr. Swinburne throws on his broad contrasts with 
 the rich sensuousness of an Egyptian or Medieval colourist." The point 
 here made by Mr. Grant Allen well illustrates an important one that we 
 desire to make in our comparison between Euripides and the older dram- 
 atists. He introduced more color-terms than they, not necessarily 
 because he was more sensitive to color, but because he was more senti- 
 mental and more given to "prettinesses" and "refined distinctions." See 
 below, pp. 72-3. 
 
 • Viz., Ale. 579 ; Hec. 90 ; Hip. 218 ; Rhes. .356 ; Iph. Aul. 222. 
 
41 
 
 TTOLKiko^ (of color) and compounds,^ and 4 of ariKTo^ and 
 
 Euripides' appreciation of color is further seen in aP^^^^J'^^* 
 number of passages where he contrasts different hues. 
 White and black make a frequent antithesis.^ . The dap- 
 pled steeds of Eumelus are carefully described.* Two 
 bright stars, settling on the horses' yokes, throw the chariot 
 of lolaus into dark shadow.* The sons of Silenus whiten 
 the blue sea with their oars.^ Polyxena is crimsoned with 
 the black stream that gushes from her gold-encircled neck.^ 
 The golden-haired Heracles closes with the tawny lion.^ 
 Dirce's crystal water is reddened with blood.^ The sym- 
 pathetic attendants of Helen heard the wailing of their 
 mistress, when ^° near the blue (KvavoeiBi^) water they 
 were hanging their crimson ((fjolviKa^) garments along the 
 green tendrils (eXi/cd ravd x^^oav) and on the sprouting 
 reeds to warm them in the sun's golden rays. The descrip- 
 tion of the serpent on the side of Parnassus,^^ " amid the 
 dusky shades of leafy laurel, a speckled snake with blood- 
 red eyes and gleaming scales," is very vivid and indicates 
 the poet's artistic taste. The changing face of ocean is 
 well expressed in a passage in the Helen,^'^ where the chorus 
 pray the Tyndaridae to guide Helen in safety over the 
 light blue {y\avK6<;) swell of the sea and across the hoary 
 crest {poOia iroXid) of the deep blue (Kvav6')(poa) billows of 
 the deep. Here we not only have a contrast between the 
 blue water and the crested foam, but in using both yXavKo^; 
 and Kvavoxpcui^ of the same ocean, the poet evidently 
 expresses the effects of the changing light upon the surface 
 of the sea.^ ' 
 
 Thus Euripides' color-range is wide and though, true to APP^*^^^^' 
 his native land, with its clear horizon, and translucent g^^"^,^^ ^£^ 
 skies, he revelled in the bright light and rich white was air and 
 his favorite color, still he shows the power of appreciating ^^g^^*- 
 atmospheric changes — a power which is noticed by Helbig 
 as rare in Greek writers. Here then we see in Euripides 
 
 1 Cf. Iph. Aul. 226 ; Iph Taur. 1245 ; H. F. 376 ; Hip. 1270 ; Ale. 584 ; 
 Bac. 249. 
 
 - Ph. 1115; Bac. Ill, 697, 8.35. al6/iO(; is used by Eur. only once, of 
 sound (Ion. 499), but Sophocles is fond of the word, having six instances. 
 » Cf. Ph. 326, Ale. 923, Hel. 1088 and 1186. ^ Iph. Aul. 222-5. 
 ^ Heracl. 855. « Cy. 16. '' Hee. 151. '^ H. F. 361. 
 » H. F. 573, cf. Sup. 76-7. i« Hel. 179. ^^ Iph. Taur. 1245-6. 
 
 12 Hel. 1501. 
 
 1 ■* Other examples of color contrasts are Bac. 438 and El. 520-3. 
 6 
 
42 
 
 Illustra- 
 tions of 
 life from 
 nature. 
 
 the beginning of that modern sensitiveness to the effects 
 of air and light which, as Butcher points out,i is a 
 marked characteristic of the Alexandrian writer, Apollo- 
 nius E-hodius. 
 
 Nature provides Euripides with many an illustration of 
 human life. Adrastus, according to Theseus (Supp. 222) 
 has injured his house by mingling a pure stream with 
 muddy water, and the same metaphor is found in Ale. 
 1067. " To step into bilge-water " (Her. 168) is Euripides' 
 equivalent of the modern " getting into hot water." Anger 
 is like a blast of wind (Androm. 327). A storm-cloud, 
 from which lightning flashes, yields a striking metaphor in 
 Med. 106. '"Tis clear that her wail is a cloud, which has 
 a small beginning, but which in her gathering wrath will 
 soon flash with fire." The Argive suppliants at Eleusis 
 are^ " like a wandering cloud, flitting before stormy blasts." 
 Sorrow is like an encircling cloud.-^ More extended is the 
 fine simile in the Danae} "Of the same conditions, I 
 maintain, as the fortunes of men is this ether, as we call 
 it, whose qualities are these. In the summer it sends out 
 a blaze of light, but in winter, gathering thick clouds, it 
 swells the gloom. That all things bloom and fade, live 
 and die, is due to this. So, too, with the seed of mortal 
 men. Some enjoy a radiant calm, but for others again 
 clouds gather ; and some live on in the midst of evils, but 
 others with all their wealth wane even as the changing 
 seasons."^ 
 
 The argument that " equality is man's natural law " is 
 enforced by an illustration from the relations of the sun 
 and moon. " Night's sightless eye and the sun's light on 
 equal terms move on their yearly course, and neither is 
 envious, when he is overcome."^ 
 
 A pathetic simile for never-ending sorrow is that of 
 Suppl. 80, " like a trickling stream, that pours from a steep 
 rock," repeated with additional feeling in Androm. 533 : 
 " r am as a sunless spring, trickling from a smooth rock."^ 
 The sea in But, as in the case of his predecessors, the largest num- 
 ]Euripides. |^gj, ^f Euripides' illustrations of life come from the sea. 
 Euripides is surely not voicing his own experience when 
 in Tro. 686 he makes Hecuba confess that she has never 
 
 ^ Some Aspects, etc., p. 297. 
 * Fr. 330. 
 « Phoen. o43. 
 
 "- Suppl. 961. •' H. F. 1140. 
 » Cf. Fr. 415. 
 • Of. Androm. 116. 
 
43 
 
 «et foot on board ship. Hecuba had seen such things in 
 pictures, and had knowledge of them from hearsay, but no 
 mere landlubber would ever have written the elaborate 
 simile from the sea that is put into her mouth,^ or the 
 account of the launching of the ships in Hel. 1530, or the 
 more detailed description of sailors' duties in Ipli. Taur. 
 1345-1353 and 1390-1408.- Euripides can describe a 
 storm at sea, as in Tro. 78, where Zeus sends his " rain and 
 hail unspeakable and black tempests from heaven .... and 
 lightning fire," while Poseidon makes " the Aegean strait roar 
 with great billows and whirlpools and fills Euboea's hollow 
 bay with corpses ' — but the poet is more at home with ocean 
 in her calmer moods, as when-^ " the birds are voiceless, the 
 sea is still and the silence of the winds prevails over 
 Euripus here," or* " when the breath of the winds is lost 
 upon the deep, and the child of Ocean, Calm, in garb of 
 blue, brings this message : ' Be off! spread your sails to the 
 sea-breezes, and seize your oars of pine, sailors, sailors, 
 ho ! '" 
 
 Yet something of the heart's mad dance which the sailor 
 feels when the gale blows strong,^ must surely have been 
 felt by the poet who could thus sing of the mariner's ela- 
 tion, while laboring against an adverse wind :^ " The Tyrian 
 main have I left. . . .and over the Ionian sea I plied the 
 oar, for above the unharvested levels, skirting Sicily, raced 
 the strong west wind, sweetest music in the heavens." 
 
 The metaphor of a " sea of troubles " occurs in Med. 362, 
 Suppl. 824, Ion 927, H. F. 1087, ffipp. 822, Ale. 91, Tro. 
 696, Androm. 349. Kindred to this idea is the use of 
 'Xeu^id^oiiat for stress of affliction in Hipp. 315, Suppl. 269, 
 and Ion 966. So, too, Thebes (Phoen. 859) is exposed to 
 the billows of an Argive war and the Athenians, when 
 in a difficult dilemma (Heracl. 427), are like sailors, who 
 having escaped the storm's rage are now close to land, 
 yet are once more being driven back by the wnnds into 
 the deep. A good friend (Or. 728) is a more cheerful sight 
 to one in trouble than a calm to sailors.^ " Great pros- 
 perity stays not with mortals. Some power there is that 
 shakes it like the sail of a swift ship, and then deluges it 
 
 1 11. 688-696. '' Cf. Iph. Taur. 1134-6. ^ Iph. Aul. 10. 
 
 * Hel. 1455-1462. 
 
 ^ " And madly danced our hearts for joy. 
 
 As fast we fleeted towards the south." — Tennyson's Voyage. 
 « Phoen. 202-213. ' Cf. Or. 279. 
 
44 
 
 with grievous sorrows, even as in the sea's turbulent and 
 deadly waves."^ 
 
 The ship's anchor furnishes not a few metaphors and 
 similes. Hecuba's son is the only anchor of her house f and 
 Megara in choosing wives for her sons was anxious to give 
 their ship strong stern-cables.^ The harbor, too, is a fruit- 
 ful source of illustrations,* as ; " Happy he who escapes 
 from the storm of the sea and wins the haven."^ The 
 pilot's art supplies others. See Fr. 417 from the Ino. 
 " Because you have once made a good hit, do not play the 
 part of a poor skipper, who aims at more and then loses 
 all."* The helmsman has taught Hecuba a sad lesson ;' " sail 
 with the stream, sail with fortune, steer not thy bark of 
 life against the tide, since chance must guide thy sailing." 
 Other illustrations from a maritime life are found in 
 Androm. 554, 854; Hip. 1221 ; H. F. 102, 216, 631, 650, 
 667, 1225 ; Gyc. 505 ; Phoen. 825, 1712 ; Siipjpl 473, 554 ; 
 Ion 1504-9;^^. 1147. 
 Rivers in The " ever-flowing rivers "^ are much more conspicuous 
 uupi es. j^ Euripides than in either of his predecessors, and he has 
 invested them with considerable sentimental interest. The 
 Eurotas is for the poet the most distinct feature in 
 Laconian landscape,^ as the Pamisus is in Messenian,'** the 
 Cephisus in Attic,!^ the Ismenus^- with the Asopus^^ in 
 Boeotian, the Peneus in Thessalian," the Axius and Lydias 
 in Macedonian,^^ the Simois'^ and Scamander^^ in Trojan, the 
 Eridanus^^ and the Crathis'® in Italian, and the Nile'^" in 
 Egyptian.-i 
 
 ^ Or. 340. The sea can furnish the type for stubbornness or relent- 
 lessness, as in Androm. 537, Hipp. 305, Med. 28. 
 
 " Hec. 80 ; cf. Fr. 774 and Hel. 277. ^ H. F. 478, cf. 1094. 
 
 * Cf. Ale. 798, 1157 ; Hec. 1025, and Androm. 748, 891 ; Med. 278, 771 ; 
 Phoen. 846 ; Hec. 1081. 
 
 s Bac. 903. « Cf. Suppl. 508, Hipp. 1227, Med, 523, Androm. 479. 
 ' Tro. 102. « Ion. 1083. 
 
 » Hel. 492, 124, 162, 208, 1465 ; Tro. 210 ; Iph. Aul. 179 ; Iph. Taur. 
 134, 379. 
 10 Fr. 1083. 1^ Med. 835 ; Ion. 1261. ^^ Phoen. 102, 827. 
 
 1=^ Bac. 749. . i* Tro. 214. 
 
 1 ^ Bac. 569, 571. By Trarfpa re possibly a third river, the Haliacmon, is 
 meant, but the editors generally make it appositional to \v6iav. 
 i« Hec. 641, Hel. 2.50, Iph. A. 751. '' Hel. 368 ; Or. 1310. 
 
 1 8 Hip. 737 ' » Tro. 226. ^o Hel. 1, 491 ; Bac. 406. 
 
 -1 The Achelous, the great river of western Greece, is synonymous with 
 water in general, Bac. 625, rf. Vergil, Georg 1, 19, pocula Acheloia. 
 
45 
 
 Often, as noticed above.^ the fertilizing power of these 
 rivers is made prominent, but frequently the poet adds a 
 charming picturesque touch in a mere epithet or phrase. 
 Thus the Eurotas is evpoo^,'- or hovaKoei^,'' or hovaK6')(\oo<^,^ or 
 KaWi hova^^^ or is lined with meadows and fair trees.^ The 
 Peneus^ has fair eddies, KaXKihlva^;, and the Simois silvery 
 eddies, 8tVa9 dpyvpoeiBeh ;^ the Ismenus is faced with ver- 
 dant plains,^ the Axius is w/ci/poo?,^" and the Hebrus has a 
 silver stream.^^ The Crathis,^- " loveliest of streams, that 
 tints the hair with auburn hue, feeds and enriches with 
 its holy waters a land of noble race." The " bull- 
 headed "^^ Cephisus, in the poet's native Attica, is possessed 
 of the charms of Aphrodite herself." From that " fair- 
 iiowing " stream, " the Cyprian draws moisture and o'er 
 the land breathes her balmy breezes."^" 
 
 The botanical world plays a much larger part in Euri- The bo- 
 pides than in Aeschylus or Sophocles. He revels i^^ *^'^i!i!?\ii 
 meadows and grassy glades, forests and groves, fruits and Euripides, 
 flowers, and some of his plays, like the Bacchae, Ion and 
 Phoenissae are permeated with the beauties of hill and 
 field and dale. 
 
 No doubt these are often introduced, because of their Trees and 
 
 special significance, certain trees and flowers, for example, ^f ^'^.^^» 
 1 • 1 1 i • 1 T • • i • 1 1 J • . 6tc. , nitro- 
 
 being sacred to particular divinities, but the poet s interest duced 
 in them is a very real one, as is seen from their frequent sometimes 
 introduction for merely aesthetic reasons. because of 
 
 special sig- 
 
 1 See p. 36. ^ Hec. 650. » jjel, 208. nificance. 
 
 * Iph Taur. 399, cf. Iph. Aul. 179 ; Hel. 349. ^ Hel. 493. 
 
 ^ Iph. Taur. 134 j^^d/orwv evdevdpuv Evpurav. Nauck retains Evpuirav, 
 but in view of the context and Eur.'s fondness for the Evp^rag, Barnes' 
 Eupwrav is to my mind unquestionably right. ^ H. F. 369. 
 
 ^ Iph. Aul. 751. Cf. Or. 1310 I,Ka/Lidvdpov 6ivaq and Ion 174 ^ivaq Tag 
 "Al^eioi), also Hel. 368 IiKa/xdu6ptop oldfia. ^ Pho3n. 827. 
 10 Bac. 568. " H. F. 386 dpyvpoppvTav "E^pov. 12 Xro. 226. 
 
 13 Ion 1261. 1* Med. 835. 
 
 1 5 Neither the Asopus, Eridanus, Alpheus, Crathis, Hebrus, Simois 
 nor Nile will be found in Sophocles. There is one reference only to each 
 of the Eurotas (Fr. 339, Ell.), Cephisus (O.C. 687), Scamander (Ai. 418), 
 Evenus (Trach. 559), Ister and Phasis (O.T. 1227). As for .Eschylus, he 
 has a great weakness for the Nile, to which he refers no less than seven- 
 teen times. The TroTajudg Aldlo-ip (Pr. 809) is also glossed by the Schol. 
 as 6 NeZAof. The Scamander is mentioned four times ; the Asopus, 
 Spercheius and Caicus twice each ; the Simois, Halys and the "TI3piGT?/c 
 -TTorafidg (Pr. 717, the interpretations of which vary), once each. No 
 others are specified. 
 
46 
 
 To Hera belonged the meadow on Mount Cithaeron^, 
 Hippolytus used to crown the spots "where the maiden 
 Latona rested in the deep verdure,"^ and to her he brought 
 his wreath " culled from a virgin meadow, where no shep- 
 herd dares to feed his flock, and which the scythe has 
 never entered, but the bee in spring-time wanders through 
 that virgin meadow."-^ The olive is sacred to Athene,* the 
 palm and bay to Apollo and Artemis,^ the vine and ivy to 
 Bacchus.* 
 Main But it is mainly the feeling for Nature that accounts for 
 
 reason for ^j^^ many references to grassy glades,^ leafy coverts,* gay 
 troduc- meadows,^ forest glens,^° wild woodland,^^ and mountain 
 tion. thickets.i-^ 
 
 Great Euripides' vocabulary of trees, fruits and flowers is very 
 
 variety of varied. Besides allusions to trees in general {cf}'^ Hel. 
 
 fmits and l^^l ev(f>vk\(ov eXU(ov ; Fr. 782 ; H. F. 790 Sez/a/owrt irerpa ; 
 
 flowers in Fv. 484^*), we meet with the pine, r] irevKT] {Ale. 918 ; Bac. 
 
 Euripides. 146^ 307, 1052 ; Iph. Aul 39 ; Fr. 90, 495 (35), 752, 1002 ; 
 
 Hec. 575 ; H. F. 372 ; Med. 4, 1200 ; Or. 1543 ; Hi'pp. 216. 
 
 1254 ; Tro. 298, 351, 533 ; Ion 716 ; Hel 232 ; Androm. 
 
 863),— the silver fir, 97 iXdrr] {Ale. 444, 585 ; Bac. 38, 110, 
 
 684, 742, 816, 954, 1061, 1064, 1070, 1095, 1098, 1110; 
 
 Cy. 386 ; Hec. 632 ; Iph. Aul. 174, 1058, 1322 ; Iph. Taur. 
 
 407; Phoen. 208, 1515 ; Fr. 773 (28)),— the oak, ^ hpm''' 
 
 {Bac. 110, 685, 703, 1103 ; Hec. 398 ; Gy. 383, 615 ; H. F. 
 
 241 ; Flioen. 1515),— the bay, 97 hS.^vr) (Androm. 296, 1115 ; 
 
 Hec. 459 ; Iph. Aul. 759 ; Iph. Taur. 1100, 1246 ; Fr. 477 ; 
 
 1 Phoen. 24. ^ Hip. 1137. « Hip. 73. * Iph. Taur. 1101. 
 
 s Iph. Taur. 1099, Hec. 460. « Bac. 11, 25. 
 
 ^ Bac. 1048, TToiffpbv vdirog ; Bac. 1084, ev?.Ei/iog vamj ; Fr. 740, a[idTovc 
 2.Eifi(ovag Tzoijuvid r' aTiarj ; Cyc. 45, Tcoajpa (Sordva ; Cyc. 60, diKpidaTielg 
 iroLTjpovi^ vojuovg. 
 
 8 Hel. 1107, kvavldoiQ iirh devdpoKOjuoig ; Phoen. 653, x^^^vPopoiaiv epveaiv 
 KaraGKioiGcv ; Bac. 722, dd/ivuv (po^aiq ; 957, £v Aoxjuaig ; Fr. 495, 34 and Fr. 
 495, 36 ; evcklovq Bdjuvovg. 
 
 » Hipp. 210, ev K0H7JT1J leifxcbvi ; Iph. Aul. 1296, 1544. 
 i« Hel. 1303, vldevra vdiTTj ; Andr. 284. 
 
 11 El. 1164, bpydduv dpvoxa ; Bac. 340; h bpydaiv ; Bac. 445 ; Iph. Taur.. 
 261. 
 ^- Hel. 1326, TTETpLva nard Spia 7ro/lvr<0£a ; Hipp. 1127- 
 ^ ^ These references include articles made of the wood of the tree. 
 ^* Compare such similes as in Hec. 20 iog rig TrropUoc; and the frequent 
 metaphorical use of epi'Of and OdXog. 
 
 1^ The term /; Jpt'f is |also used of trees in general, e.g., of an olive, 
 Cyc. 615, c/. 1. 455. 
 
47 
 
 Med. 1213; Ion 76, 80, 103, 112, 145, 422, 919; Tro. 329), 
 — the black poplar, rj alryecpo^ (Hipp. 210), — the cedar, 
 T) KeSpo^ (Ale. 160, 365 ; Or. 1058, 1371 ; Phoen. 100; Tro. 
 1141),— the olive, rj iXaia (Cyc. 455 ; H. F. 1178 ; Ion 
 1433, 1486, 1480; Iph. Taur. 1101; Tro. 802),— the date 
 palm, (j)olvc^ (Hec. 458 ; Ion 920 ; Iph. Taur. 1099),— the 
 cypress, rj KvirdpicTGO^ (Fr. 472, 8), — the myrtle, r] fivpalvrj 
 (Ale. 172,759; El. 824, 512, 778; Ion 120),— the lotus- 
 tree, 6 XcoTo?,! — the apple, to /ultjXov;' — the grape, both fruit, 
 6 jSorpv^, and vine, rj d/jLireXo^ (Bac. 11, 261, 279, 382, 534, 
 651, 772; Cyc. 123, 192, 496; Ion 1232; Pkoen. 229; 
 H. F. 892 ; Fo\ 146, 530, 765),— the fig-fruit, to avKov (Fr. 
 907),— the ivy, 6 Kcaao^i (Bac. 25, 81, 106, 177, 205, 253, 
 323,348, 863, 384, 702, 711, 1055 ; Cyc. 390; Hec. 398; 
 Hel. 1360; Ion 217; Iph. Aul. 390; Med. 1218; Tro. 
 1066 ; Fhoen. 651 ; jFr. 88, 146), — the smilax aspera rj 
 filXa^ (Bac. 108, 708),— saffron, o /c/joato? (Hec. 471 ; /o?i 
 889 KpoKea ireraXa xpvo'Civravyrj) , — the lotus-flower {Phoen. 
 1570 ; Tro. 489),^- the rose, to poSov (Hel. 245 ; Iph. Aul. 
 1297; Med. 841), and the hyacinth '6 vaKLvdo^s (Iph. Aul. 
 1299). Flowers are mentioned without being specified in 
 Ft. 754, 896 ; Iph. Taur, 634 ; Cyc. 541 ; Bac. 462 ; Iph. 
 Aul. 1544*. 
 
 In Aeschylus we find no mention of the silver-fir, which Aeschylus 
 is so prominent in Euripides, or of the poplar, cedar, palm, ^^^^g^""" 
 cypress, myrtle, lotus-tree, apple or fig. The oak appears compared, 
 but once (Pr. 882), as also the bay-tree (Supp. 706), and 
 the ivy (Fr. 841). The pine (rj Trev/crj) occurs three times 
 (Ag. 288 = torch ; Fr. 171 and in form Trey/crjet?, Cho. 
 385) and there is a single mention of the variety rj ttltv^;, 
 pinus pinea (Fr. 251) ; the olive appears only four times 
 (Pers. 617, 884 ; Ag. 494, Eum.. 43) and the vine,-?; afjuireko^, 
 only twice {Pers. 615 ; Fr. 825). 6 ^orpv^ is nowhere found. 
 The mulberry, to fxopov, which appears nowhere in Euri- 
 pides, occurs in Fr. 264 and 116. None of the flowers are 
 
 1 A flute was made from it : Hel. 170 ; Iph. Aul. 1036 ; Tro. 544 ; Fr. 
 931. • 
 
 2 H. F. 396 ; Hipp. 742. Possibly fyniit in general is meant in both 
 cases. 
 
 =' Cf. aiToluTiC,o), Iph. Aul. 792 and ?iUTia/LtaTa, Hel. 1593. 
 
 * Cf. the metaphorical use of dvOog H. F. 875, Cyc. 499 ; Tro. 808 ; of 
 hvdvpoq, Iph. Aul. 73 ; of avdelv Hec. 1210, El. 944, and of k^avdelv, Iph. 
 Taur. 300. 
 
48 
 
 mentioned, but in Ag. 239 the saffron dye is spoken of, 
 and in SupiJ. 963 Xcori^eLv is used metaphorically. 
 
 As to Sophocles, he makes no mention of the silv^er-fir, 
 Sophocles cedar, palm, Cyprus, lotus-tree, myrtle or fig. The pine, 
 Euripides V '^evKT), occurs only three times (0. T. 214 = torch and 
 compared. 7rei»/c»}ei? Ant. 123 and Track. 1198). The oak or rj Bpv<;, 
 which is also used of trees in general, is found seven times 
 (Track. 766, 1168, 1198 ; El. 98 ; Fr. 370 and 492 and the 
 adjective Bpvo7rayi]<;, Fr. 639), the olive five (0. C. 17, 484, 
 701 ; Fr. 464 Ell. with ikairjei^ Fr. 419 ; cf. iXatoofiac Fr. 
 567),^ the apple but once (Track. 1100), the mulberry once 
 (Fr. 462 EIL), the bay three times (0. G. 17, 0. T. 83 and 
 Fr. 811j, the poplar twice (Fr. 22 and 535), the vine three 
 times (0. C. 17, Track. 704, Fr. 366), the grape (o /Sorpv^) 
 twice (Fr. 234, 2, 6), and the ivy four times (Ant. 826, 
 Track. 219, 0. 0. 674 and Kiaa-rjpv^; Ant. 1132). The 
 saffron occurs twice (0. G. 685, Fr. 413), and the narcissus 
 once (0. G. 683), but there is no mention of the rose, 
 hyacinth, lotus or smilax. 
 
 The plentiful allusions to birds and animals, and the 
 The abundant similes and metaphors which they supply, show 
 
 kingdom ^^^^^ Euripides felt a very sympathetic interest in the 
 animal creation. 
 
 Of domestic animals the horse and colt are referred to 
 Domestic most frequently," and not far behind come the bull, cow 
 animals, g^^^ calf.' Dogs* and sheep^ are common enough, but the 
 goat is mentioned only twice. 
 
 Generic terms for wild beasts are common.'* Of those 
 
 Wild specified the lion and the deer take foremost place ; the 
 
 ammals ^^^^ -^ fairly numerous ; more rare are the wolf, the lynx 
 
 insects, and the dolphin."' Vipers, serpents and dragons are very 
 
 abundant. There also appear bees,^ wasps and spiders." 
 
 Birds are most commonly referred to under a generic 
 
 Birds. 
 
 ^ The oleaster, y sAaiog is also found, Trach. 1197. 
 
 - 132 instances. ^ 94 instances. * 42 instances. 
 
 '^ 31 instances. ** Beck gives 60 instances of d^p. 
 
 "^ The lion and the deer are each referred to 28 tiifies. tAa(j>og and 
 derivatives occur 11 times, vEi3p6g 9, vejipig 7 and dopKag once. There are 
 9 references to the boar [Kcnrpog 5 and avg 4). We find 6 references to 
 the wolf, and 2 each to the lynx and the dolphin. 
 
 8 Referred to 8 times. ^ Cy. 475 and Fr. 369. 
 
49 
 
 name.i Those specified are the swan, nightingale, eagle, 
 dove, vulture, halcyon, sea-eaejle, hawk and crane.- 
 
 Comparing the dramatists for a moment in reference Euripidea 
 to the animal kingdom, we find that while in general ^'^."|P*^^^ 
 Euripides makes more frequent use of this field than his Aeschylu» 
 fellow-poets, it is for the domestic animals that he shows and 
 the greatest weakness. In this respect, as in many others, Sophocles. 
 " his touches of things common " are numerous and con- 
 spicuous. His allusions to the horse, cow, dog and sheep, 
 are nearly twice as frequent as those of Aeschylus and 
 Sophocles together. =^ 
 
 The lion is much more common in Euripides than in 
 Aeschylus or Sophocles,* but the wolf is most conspicuous 
 in Aeschylus.^ The stags, fawns, gazelles, so dear to Euri- 
 pides, are barely noticed by the others.® 
 
 Aeschylus and Sophocles have little to do with Euripides' 
 favorite swan/ and his halcj'ons are wdiolly neglected. 
 The majestic eagle commends itself especially to Aeschy- 
 lus,'' as also does the hawk.' Aeschylus alone admits • 
 oXeKTcop into tragedy,^*' but Euripides speaks of the domestic 
 hen as 6pvL<;}^ 
 
 In some of his references to the lower creatures, we find Tender- 
 in Euripides a peculiar tenderness that is quite Virgilian"^^^ , 
 in tone and rare in Greek poetry. "I am loth to slay the lower 
 you," says lon^-' to the birds that haunt the temple, " but Icreatiues, 
 must serve Phoebus in the work to v/hich I am devoted." 
 The unhappy Electra, bewailing her father Agamemnon, 
 is^'^ "like a clear-voiced swan beside the flowing river, 
 calling to the loved parent bird, which is dying in a treach- 
 erous snare." The captive women in the Chersonese, who 
 " long for the assemblies of Hellas," find an echo to their 
 misery in the song of the halcyon.'* " O bird, that by the 
 
 ^ upvt~, olcovog and compounds occur 51 times. 
 
 - Of the swan, 11 instances ; of the nightingale, 8 (in Fr. 556 and 931 
 af/6c)v used metaphorically of a flute) ; of the eagle, 4 ; of the dove 
 and vulture, 3 each ; of the halycon, 2 ; of the rest, 1 each. 
 
 3 The figures are 299 for Euripides, 87 and 82 for Aeschylus and 
 Sophocles respectively. 
 
 * Five instances in Aesch., four in Sophocles. '^ Seven instances. 
 
 * vej-iftoi' occurs in Aesch. three times, but neither ^/la^of nor dofmdg is 
 found. On the other hand ^?M<j)og is used by Sophocles three times, 
 besides eXa(l)rjf3o?ua and i2,a<po(36?io^, biit neither dopKag nor V£(3p6g occurs. 
 
 ■^ Referred to twice in each. ^ Seven instances. 
 
 '■> Five instances. ^^ Ag. 1671 and Eum. 861. ii H. F. 72. 
 
 ^2 Ion. 179. i« El. 151. i* Iph. Taur. 1089. 
 
50 
 
 ni3^tho- 
 logical 
 Betting 
 
 deep."^ 
 of the 
 Aegrean, 
 
 .sea's reefs of rock chantest a piteous wail, to be heard of 
 those that will hear and mark how thou art ever in song 
 moaning for thy mate, I match my dirge with thine." 
 
 Andromache, who has lost her noble Hector, finds an 
 analogy in the horse that has lost its yoke-fellow.^ " Even 
 the horse, when parted from its mate, will be reluctant to 
 draw the yoke; and yet beasts know not speech, are help- 
 less in wit and inferior by nature." 
 
 Megjira guards the children of Heracles *'as a hen keeps 
 under her wings the chicks she has gathered in."- Poly- 
 xena is " like a calf reared on the hills " which its mother 
 " will see torn from her, and sent to its death with severed 
 throat."^' 
 foTiiature '^^^^ expression of a feeling for nature often finds a 
 under a mythological setting in Euripides, as in every other Greek 
 poet. Poseidon is invoked* as " Thou god of the sea, that 
 drivest with thy azure steeds over the waters of the 
 " I come," says the same god in the opening lines 
 Troades, " I come from the depths of the briny 
 where choirs of Nereids unfold the mazes of the 
 lovely dance."® Compare this with the ode in the Electro' 
 on the Greek ships sailing to Troy, which " led the Nereids 
 in their dance, when the flute-loving dolphin leaped and 
 rolled about the deep blue prows." What joyous delight in 
 the sea is expressed in the following beautiful strophe from 
 the Iphigenia among tlie Tauri!^ "How did they pass those 
 clashing rocks and the sleepless beach of Phineus, fleeting 
 past the strand on Amphitrite's surge, to where choirs of 
 tift}^ Nereid maids sing in circling dance, while the breeze 
 fills the sails, and the guiding rudder pipes at the stern to 
 the breath of the south wind or the blowing zephyr, on to 
 a land where flock the birds, that white beach with the 
 fair race-course of Achilles along the unfriendly deep ? " 
 The ocean is the domain of Amphitrite, the Nereids dance 
 on the shore, while Notus and Zephyrus, spirits of the air, 
 make their kindly presence felt. 
 
 1 Tro. 669, cf. Verg. Georg. 3, 517. 
 
 - Androm. 441 ; Tro. 751, where we have the same pathetic use of 
 VEOGOUQ. So in Macbeth, Act 4, Sc. 3 — 
 
 * ' What, all my pretty chickens and their dam. 
 At one fell swoop." 
 The same simile occurs in Heracl. 10. 
 
 •" Hec. 205. * Androm. 1011. 
 
 « Cf. Or. 1377. « Tro. 1. " El. 432. ^ Iph. Taur. 421-437. 
 
51 
 
 Full of picturesque beauty is the famous chorus^ in the 
 Alcestis, wherein are sung the praises of " that Pythian 
 Apollo, the sweet lyrist, who deigned. . . .to lead a shep- 
 herd's life, and o'er the sloping hills to the flocks piped 
 pastoral melodies." Not only the joy of Nature, but a 
 poet's joy in Nature is expressed throughout the ode. 
 
 Dictynna, the huntress- " roams o'er lake and beyond 
 the land on ocean's surging brine." Aphrodite makes all 
 the world feel her power. " Thro' the sky she ranges, 
 she lives in ocean billows, and from her all things come."-^ 
 When the sunbeams dart across the peaks of Parnassus it 
 is Dionysus who " with pine torch bounds o'er the double 
 crest, tossino- and wavinoj his Bacchic wand."* 
 
 The stream on whose banks Priam settled Alexander 
 has many charms.^ The water is crystal (XevKov vBwp), its 
 meadow-land blooms with fresh flowers, and goddesses 
 may cull roses and hj^acinths, but there too "lie the 
 fountains of the nymphs."^ 
 
 Instead of the sun, the ancient poet is prone to speak of 
 the sun's chariot,^ and Euripides is describing day-break 
 in a beautiful way, when he makes Jocasta utter this 
 invocation.^ " O sun, who cleavest thy way amid the stars 
 of heaven, mounted on car of inlaid gold, and rolling on 
 thy flame with fleet steeds." 
 
 A more detailed and picturesque description of dawn is 
 that at the opening of the Ion where the young ministrant 
 upon the sanctuary of Apollo pours forth his thoughts to 
 the rising sun.' " Lo the gleaming chariot with its four 
 harnessed steeds, which the sun-god is even now turning 
 earth-wards ! Before yon fire the stars fade from the sky 
 into mystic night, and the untrodden peaks of Parnassus, 
 all ablaze, catch for mortals the wheels of da3^" 
 
 The Greeks fancied they heard the music of the god Pan 
 everywhere in nature. He was a '* mountain "^° god, and 
 " steward of the fields,"^^ whose " wax-fastened reed cheers 
 on the rowers,"^'^ and whose haunts are now in Arcadia^-^ and 
 now beneath the Acropolis of Athens.^* Here on " the rock 
 
 1 Ale. 569. - Hipp. U4ff. ■• Hipp. 447. 
 
 * Bac. 306. » Iph. Aul. 1294. « Cf. Bac. 951. 
 
 7 Hel 842. ^ Phoen. 1. » Ion 82, cf. Ion 887 ; Hel. 342. 
 
 ^^ Iph. Taur. 1126, ovpeiov liavoc^ ; Bac. 951. 
 
 ^] El. 704. 12 Iph. Taur. 1125. 
 
 1 " Fr. 696 ; 6f re werpov 'ApKaduv (haxe'fepov I Ilav kaBaTevetg, 
 ^* Ion 492. 
 
52 
 
 by the grots of the Long Cliffs the three daughters of 
 Aglauros tread in the dance the green lawns before the 
 shrine of Pallas, to the varied notes of the music of the 
 pipes, when thou, O Pan, art piping in thy caverns " — a 
 most romantic picture in mythological guise. 
 ^^* , If we could translate the Greek verse and thought into 
 
 in the ^he language and corresponding thought of a great modern 
 Medea, poet, throwing into the latter all the feeling of the ancient^ 
 w^e should find that in the famous ode^ in the Medea, where 
 Euripides sings the glory of Attica, under the graceful 
 garb of mythology lies the emotion of one who conceives 
 his native land to be not merely the home of valor and 
 wisdom, but also in serenity of climate and charm of land- 
 scape the loveliest spot on earth. " Ye sons of Erechtheus,, 
 happy from of old and children of the blessed gods, ye that 
 in a holy land, ever unscathed, feed on wisdom's glories, 
 ye that step with pride thro' a climate ever bright and 
 fair, whence the nine Muses, Pieria's holy maids, brought 
 to birth, we are told, golden-haired Harmonia ; and men 
 sing how the Cyprian, drawing moisture from the fair- 
 flowing Cephisus, breathes o'er the land her balmy breezes, 
 and ever as she wreathes her tresses with a sweet garland 
 of rose blossoms, sends forth the Loves to sit by wisdom's 
 side and take a share in every excellence."- 
 Euripides It is worth noting that in Euripides, the so-called 
 such ' rationalist," the use of such epithets as tVpo? and dyvo^, 
 
 epithets as denoting connection with supei'natural powers and imply- 
 lepog and j^g an appreciation of the mysterious and awe-inspiring 
 ayvog. -^ nature, is far more frequent than in the orthodox 
 Aeschylus or Sophocles. 
 
 lepo^ is used of night, Ion 85 ; Fr. 114. 
 
 light, ;/. F. 797 ; IpL Tauv. 194. 
 sky, JV. 114,487,985. 
 rivers, Med. 410, 846. 
 
 vfs,iQv,Hipp.l20Q,Gy.2Qb\Ion \l7)hp6(TOL), 
 trees, Iph. Taur. 1101 (olive). 
 mountains, El. 446 (Ossa); Bac. 65 (Tmolus), 
 Phoen. 234; 0?\ 1383. 
 
 1 Med. 824 ff. 
 
 2 Cf. (Artemis) Phoen. 802, where Cithaeron is ojuLjia 'Aprefitdog, Hipp. 
 228, 1139, 1391; Hec. 460; Phoen. 151, 191; Iph. Taur. 127, 1098; 
 (Athene) Ion 870, Hec. 466 ; (Apollo) Rhes. 224 ; Ion 887, Tro. 254 ; 
 (Aphrodite) Bac. 403, Fr. 898; Hipp. 447, 530, 1268; (Dionysus) Iph. 
 Taur. 1243, Ion 714, Phoen. 226 ; (Eros) Hipp. 525 ; (Zeus) Fr. 941, etc. 
 
53 
 
 Attica, Tro. 218, 801 ; Salamis, Tro. 
 1096; Pergamus, Tro. 1065; Colonus, 
 Fhoen. 1707 ; Corinth, Fv. 1084. 
 ^71^09 of Delphi, Iph. Taur. 972. 
 
 light, Fr. 443. Cf. Hel. 867 irvevixa KaOapov ovpavov. 
 Oeairea-io^ of the bay-tree at Ilium, Androm. 296. 
 <T€fjLv6<; of springs and rivers : Med. 69 and Tro. 206 (Pirene); 
 Tro. 214 (Peneus) ; Iph. T. 401 (Dirce). 
 mountains : Bac. 411 and Fr. 114 (Olvmpus) ; Bac. 
 
 718 (Cithaeron) ; Iph. Aul. 705 (Pelion). 
 Dodona, Fhoen. 982. 
 
 sky, Iph. Tuar. 1177, Fr. 898 ; ffip2^. 746. 
 tire, Bac. 1083. 
 8to9 of rain, Hel. 2. 
 fire, ^^c. 5. 
 Olympus, //. i^. 1304. 
 ^de€o<i of Athens, /o?i 184, Tro. 218 (c/. //A 7^ai<.>\ 1449). 
 Crete, Bac. 121. 
 Ilium, Tro. 1070. 
 • Parnassus, Fhoen. 232 (avrpa). 
 Cithaeron, Fhoen. 801. 
 the earth, Hipp. 750. 
 d/jL^p6(Tto<; of fountains, Hij^p. 748. 
 8fc07ei/779 of light, il/ed 1258. 
 
 The personifying tendency, so closely allied to thepersonifi- 
 mythological spirit, is quite as marked in Euripides as in cation in 
 Aeschylus. In the Bacchae we have a hymn to Holiness, ^'^"P' ^^• 
 'Oala, which thus begins :^ " Holiness, Queen of Heaven ! 
 Holiness, that over the earth bendest thy golden pinion ! " 
 Shakespeare's beautiful tribute to Sleep (Macbeth, Act 2, 
 Sc. 2) finds a very close parallel in Orestes 211, where the 
 hero awakes from a heavy slumber. Another apostrophe to 
 Sleep " child of sable night," occurs in the Cyclops.'^ So 
 Calm^ TaXdveca, " azure child of Ocean," addresses the 
 sailors ; Nature is apostrophized in Or. 126 ; we have 
 Peace,* " giver of wealth and most fair of the blessed 
 goddesses ; "^ and Echo, " offspring of the mountain- 
 rock."^ Madness, Avaaa, " daughter of night,"'^ appears in 
 person in the Hercules Furens.^ There is an address to 
 
 ' Bac. 370. 
 
 -' Cyc. 601. 3 Hel. 1456. * Or. 1682. ' Fr. 453. 
 " Hec. 1110 and Fr. 118. ' H. F. 833. 
 
 ■* Gf. Bac. 977. The idea is perhaps borrowed from Aeschj'lus, who 
 introduced Xiaaa into his Xantriae, See Fr. of Aesch. 169. 
 
54 
 
 Symbol- 
 ism of 
 nature. 
 
 " sacred Night " in the Andromeda {Fr. 114)^ and to the 
 Breezes in Iph. Taur. 1487 and Hec. 444. " O Breeze, 
 Breeze of the Sea, that waftest ocean's swift galleys across 
 the swelling main, whither wilt thou take rae, unhappy 
 one ? " Again, we have Poverty, " a most unsightl}^ 
 god ; "- Justice, " child of time," ' who " sees even through 
 the dark ; "* Time " that is wont to tell the truth,"^ and 
 Fame (« Bo^a, Bo^af " that hast exalted thousands of the 
 humble among men." In a similar spirit the poet addresses 
 the Symplegades " the dark blue rocks, where the seas 
 meet ; "' Pieria, " Happ^^ Pieria, the Evian honors thee ; "^ 
 and Thebes, " nurse of Semele, crown thyself with ivy,'"* 
 while in a most pathetic passage Cassandra bids her country 
 " weep no more."^" 
 
 Note the strong personification in Fr. 398, " Ino's mis- 
 .fortune, that hath slept long, now av^akes " ; Iph. T. 422, 
 " sleepless beach of Phineus " ; Fr, 982, " Bloodless breath 
 of thunder destroys many " ; El. 467, ''' The stars' heavenly 
 choirs, Pleiades and Hyades " ; Hel 1673, " The island 
 Helena is a sentinel on the Attic coast." Euripides speaks 
 of '■ the sea's back " (Hel. 774), " the sky's back " (Fr. 114) ; 
 a mountain's " rocky brow " (Hec, 394), and " bearded 
 flame " (Fr. 836).i^ Dawm has a " fair face " (El. 730) and 
 " uplifts her clear eye " (El. 102) ; the sun may close " the 
 sacred eye of his light (Iph. T, 194, cf. Ion 189) ; the moon 
 is "the QyQ of gloomy night" (Iph. Taur. 110, cf. Phoev. 
 543) ; Andromache's Ijabe is her " life's eyes " (Androtn. 
 406), and Helen, luckless child of Leda, is the " eye of 
 loveliness " {Or. 1386). Very modern in tone is the descrip- 
 tion of pine-balsam as the tree's " tears " (Med. 1200). 
 
 Light and darkness are freely used by Euripides to 
 sj'mbolize the joy and sorrow of man. Menelaus brings 
 light ((/>W9) to those in darkness (Or. 243). Ion is to his 
 mother "a light surpassing the sun himself" (Ion 1439). 
 Achilles, Agamemnon, Iphigenia and others are the light 
 of Hellas.^" When Creusa has her son restored to her,^'^ 
 
 1 See Schol. on Aristoph. Thesm. 1065. - Fr. 248. '' Fr. 222. 
 
 * Fr. 555, cf. Bae. 992. ^ Fr. 441, <f. Aesc. Prom. 981, and (/. 
 
 Eur. Fr. 42 ;t'pdvoii Tro'vg. See Aristoph. Ran. 100. 
 
 e Androm. 319. ' Iph. T. 393. « Bae. 565. 
 
 » Bae. 105. ^ » Tro. 458. 
 
 11 Cf. Aesc. Ag. 306. ^- El. 449; Hec. 841 ; Iph. A. 1502. Of. H. 
 
 F. 531, 797; Iph. T. 187; Iph. A. 1062. The light belongs to truth, 
 Iph. Taur. 1026. ^ " Ion 1466. 
 
DO 
 
 " her house no longer looks upon the night, but lifts its 
 eyes to the beaming sun." Age "casts a darkling light 
 over one's eyes."^ 
 
 Characteristic of Euripides is the expression of a sense Nature 
 of sympathy between nature and man, at times half uncon- 3°,^"^^^^ 
 scious, but always very modern in its tone. Witness the 
 charming description of early morning in a fragment of 
 the Phaethon r " Amid the trees rises the nightingale with 
 sighs, and trills her subtle music of Itys, mournful Itys. 
 The mountain-pines awake the pipes of the flock ; the 
 chestnut horses arouse themselves for their fodder ; and 
 now to their tasks go forth the huntsmen. . . .while at the 
 founts of Oceanus the tuneful swan makes melody." 
 
 The conception of nature, to which the name of *•' the''^^®^^^^* 
 pathetic fallacy " has so aptly been given, is extremely lacy in 
 rare in earlier Greek literature. We have seen how few Euripides, 
 are the instances in Aeschylus and Sophocles. Among 
 modern poets Keats, who is so thoroughly Greek in his way 
 of looking upon the external woi-ld, is remarkably free 
 from the pathetic fallacy.^ But as a rule, modern poetry is 
 steeped in the self-conscious, introspective spirit that 
 transfers man's joys and sorrows to inanimate nature. 
 
 " We receive but what we giv^e, 
 And in our life alone does nature live ; 
 Ours is her wedding-garment, ours her shroud." 
 
 Such is the correct explanation of the poet Coleridge, who 
 thus accounts for the impressions we seem to receive from 
 nature. 
 
 In Euripides, who comes into contact with modern life Its fre- 
 at so many points, are to be found very many instances of ^"^"^^' 
 this reflection of human emotion in the mirror of nature. 
 
 In the sadness of their human grief, the captive Greek 
 women can feel for the halcyon, which is ever moaning for 
 its mate.* " bird by ocean's rocky reefs ! thou halcyon, 
 that singest thy piteous wail.... with thee I match my 
 dirges, I an un winged bird, longing for the gatherings of 
 Hellas." Compare Helen 1107.* In a fine imaginative 
 passage^ Helen's attendants pray the " long-necked " cranes 
 
 ^ H. F. 638. Cf. H. F. 1071, where Heracles is sleeping after his mad- 
 ness, " night possesses his eves." ^ Fr. 773. ^ See Studies in Inter- 
 pretation, by Prof. W. H. Hudson, New York, 1896. * Iph. Taur. 108i>. 
 
 ■' " Thee let me invoke, tearful nightingale, bird melodious, that 
 lurkest 'neath the leafy covert in thy seat of song, most tuneful of all 
 birds ; come, trilling througli that tawny throat of thine, come to unite 
 with my dirge, as I sing the piteous woes of Helen." 
 
 * Hel. 1478-1494. 
 
56 
 
 to fly to the banks of the Eurotas, there to tell the news 
 that Menelaus will soon reach home. 
 
 The Athenians, expecting a victory over Eurystheus, 
 cry : " O earth and moon, that shines by night, and bright- 
 est radiance of the god that giveth light to man, bear the 
 tidings to me and shout aloud to heaven for joy and 
 beside our ruler's throne and in the shrine of gray-eyed 
 Athena."! 
 
 In Suppl. 1150 the expression ^Actcottov ae he^erab <ydvo<; 
 implies that the river will view with delight the invasion 
 of Thebes by the sons of the fallen chiefs. 
 
 When Hippolytus is driven forth to exile, the chorus 
 call upon the sands of their native shores, and the oak- 
 groves on the hills to mourn, for nature, as well as they 
 theniselves, must bewail their lover.- 
 
 So Antigone craves for nature's sympathy, when in 
 Phocn. 1515 she cries, " What bird, perched amid the leafy 
 boughs of oak or pine, will mourn with me left mother- 
 less?" 
 
 The aged Thebans, rejoicing over the fall of the "upstart 
 king " Lycus, cry,-^ " Deck thee with garlands, O Ismenus ! 
 ye paved streets of our seven-gated city, break into danc- 
 ing ; come Dirce, fount of fair waters, and joined with her, 
 ye daughters of Asopus, come from your father's waves to 
 add your maiden voices to our hymn....O forest-clad 
 Pythian rock, and haunts of the Helicon muses, make my 
 city and her walls re-echo* with cries of joy." 
 
 " White-winged Dawn, so dear to man, looked upon the 
 land with gloomy light," the day that Troy fell.^ 
 
 Conversely, with a single touch of his brush, by which 
 he suggests the contrast between nature's peace and man's 
 unrest, Euripides heightens the pathos of the scene^ where 
 Jocasta finds her sons " engaged like lions in deadly duel 
 at the Elcctran gate, in a oneadoiv where the lotus blooras,''"' 
 Compare the opening of the Lph. at Aulis, where Agamem- 
 non, in great uneasiness of mind, paces up and down before 
 
 1 Heracl. 748. "- Hipp. 1126. '' H. F. 781. 
 
 * yX^lT' Bothe. " Tro. 847. Here the allusion to Tithonus, I. 
 
 853, shows how near to each other are the personification of nature 
 and the spirit of mythology. 
 
 •' Phoen. 1570. 
 
 ■ Somewhat similar is the personilication involved in the use of a^tvogy 
 Iph. Taur. 218, 253, 395, 438. 
 
57 
 
 his tent in the stillness of the night. (See especially II. 
 9-20). 
 
 Helen in Egypt adjures the distant Eurotas to tell her 
 whether her husband is dead.^ 
 
 The spirit of the lover's song in Tennyson's Maud, 
 
 ** Go not, happy day, 
 From the shining fields," etc., 
 
 is essentially the same as that of the commos chanted by 
 Evadne in the Suppliants ^■^ when she recalls her wedding- 
 day. " What light, what radiance did the sun-god's car 
 dart forth and the moon athwart the firmament, while 
 round her in the gloom swift stars careered, on the day' 
 that Argos raised the stately chant of joy at my wed- 
 ding!" 
 
 So Theoclymenus, who expects to marry Helen, would 
 have " the whole earth raise in happy melody his wedding- 
 song.""^ 
 
 Creusa on recovering her son pours forth her joy to the 
 bright heaven,* even as she had before published the 
 reproach of Phoebus to the light of the sun.^ 
 
 Menelaus, in the moment when he recovers Helen, 
 greets with joy the bright sun-light,® while on the other 
 hand Creusa reflects her own hatred of Phoebus, when she 
 represents the god as " hated by Delos and by the branch- 
 ing bay-tree beside the tufted palm."' 
 
 It may have been unfortunate for Thebes that Cadmus 
 ever left Phoenicia, but according to Jocasta the ill-luck 
 was in the sun's beams cast upon Thebes the day he 
 reached that city.^ 
 
 Again, horrified at the banquet of Thyestes, the sun 
 " changed his divine light."^ 
 
 Most pathetic is the appeal of the blinded Polymestor 
 to the sun :^° " O that thou wouldst heal my bleeding eyes 
 and put away my blindness ! " or the vain desire that he 
 utters a moment later^^ of " flying to the courts of heaven 
 above, where Orion and Sirius dart from their eyes bright 
 flashes of fire." 
 
 ' Hel. 348. 2 supp, 990. 
 
 « Hel. 1433. Cf. Iph. Aul. 439. * Ion 1445. 
 
 ' Ion 886. « Tro. 860. ^ Ion 919. « Phoen. 1 
 
 » Iph. Taur. 194, with Wecklein's uereSaa'. 
 
 oHec. 1067. t, Hec. 1100. 
 
At the opening of the Electra, the heroine, as it' claim- 
 ing nature's sympathy, pours forth her sorrow to " sable 
 night, nurse of the golden stars," and to "the wide 
 heavens ; " and later when her enemies are slain, her great 
 joy is thus expressed,^ " light of da}^, O bright careering 
 sun ! O earth and night, erstwhile my day ! Now may I 
 open my eyes in freedom."- In the same play, when 
 Orestes returns to Argos, " O happy day," cr}' the Argive 
 women,^ " at last hast thou shone forth and revealed to the 
 city, as a sure beacon, him who was exiled of old." 
 
 The chorus of Attic maidens remember with what joy 
 they celebrate the Eleusinia, when the very elements unite 
 with mortals in doing honor to Demeter and Cora*, " what 
 time the stars dance in the heaven of Zeus, and dances 
 the moon with Nereus' fifty daughters, who o'er the sea 
 and the eddies of ever-flowing rivers, step trippingly in 
 honor of the maiden with crown of gold and her majestic 
 mother." 
 
 But nature was "out of joint " when Atreus perpetrated 
 his horrible crime, for " in that very hour Zeus changed 
 the gleaming courses of the stars, the light of the sun and 
 the bright face of dawn, and over the back of the western 
 sky drave with hot flame from heaven, while the rain- 
 clouds passed to the north and the dry seats of Ammon 
 failed for lack of dew, because robbed of heaven's lovely 
 showers. 'Tis said (but I can scarce believe it) that the 
 sun turned round his fervid throne of gold, changing it in 
 mortals' despite, because of a quarrel among them."*^ 
 
 Here again under the guise of a niyth is told the story 
 of nature's intimate relations with the life of man. Heaven 
 and earth are pure and innocent, and will not permit the 
 impious or polluted man to defile their sanctity. Hence 
 the captives in the Iphigenia Taurica, being regarded as 
 murderers, must not appear in the sun, unless veiled.^ Yet 
 Orestes dared " to show to the light of the sun the sword, 
 stained black with blood,"' unlike Heracles, who recognizes 
 that his crimes, although involuntary, are so heinous that, 
 to give his own words, " earth will cry out, forbidding me 
 to touch her ; the sea and the river-springs will say, ' cross 
 not!"^ 
 
 Throughout the Bacchae, how truly does the pulse of 
 
 1 El. 54. - El. 866. « El. 585. * Ion. 1074. 
 
 ■ '^ El. 726. « Iph. T. 1207. ' Or. 822. '^ H. F. 1295. 
 
59 
 
 nature throb in perfect accord with the votaries of Dion}^- 
 sus ! " The whole land will dance "^ with joy ; " with milk 
 flows the earth, with wine and honey's nectar, and a smoke 
 arises as of Syrian incense."- The Bacchantes sleep in 
 security where they will,' on pine branches or oak leaves, 
 in the forest. They* "gird themselves with snakes, that 
 lick their cheeks. Some fondle in their arms gazelles or 
 sava.sje whelps of wolves and give them suck. Others 
 crown their heads with ivy or oak or blossoming smilax, 
 and one taking her thyrsus, strikes it into the rock and 
 straightway there leaps forth a dewy stream of water. 
 Another plunges her wand into the earth's soil and there 
 the god sends up a fount of wine, and all who wish for 
 the white fluid, with finger-tips scratch the soil and get 
 them milk in streams, while from their wands, with ivy 
 wreathed, sweet rills ol: honey trickle." When the Bac- 
 chantes wave their wands and call in loud chorus upon their 
 god, at once* " the whole mountain joined in the Bacchic 
 cry, the wild beasts answered and all nature was stirred."^ 
 And lastly, there is that marvellous description of the 
 sudden lull in the voices of nature just before nature's god 
 breaks out in his storm of wrath : " Hushed was the sky, 
 hushed were the leaves in the grassy glade, no ' noise of 
 living thing could you have heard."^ 
 
 If Euripides thus found nature responsive to the soul of Euripides' 
 man, it is not surprising that every aspect of her faCe'^^%^^* "^ 
 presented charms to him that were either undiscovered by more^com- 
 his predecessors or at least seldom heeded by them. Noprehen- 
 ancient poet is richer in single epithets or brief descriptive ^^i^^ *^'Y\- 
 phrases which suffice to bring before us the most striking- ^^^1^^^^,^^ 
 features of a landscape. As in Theocritus, too, his landscapes sors. 
 are often more than mere artistic accessories. They are Lj^^j. 
 in harmony with the spirit of the characters ; when the scapes in 
 latter are in distress the landscape is uncongenial and a harmony 
 longing is expressed for more restful scenes or a n^o^'e^g^i^l 
 harmonious sphere.^ The captive Greek women in the moods, 
 wilds of the Tauric Chersonese heave a sio^h for the 
 
 o 
 
 1 Bac. 115. 2 75^ 142.3. 3 75 584.5 * p,^ 698-711. 
 
 *"' Bac. 726. This flight of imagination attracts the attention of 
 Longinus, who, speaking of f^avraaia (De Sub. 15, sec. 6), says : *' In 
 Aeschylus at the appearance of Dionysus the palace of Lycurgus is in a 
 marvellous manner filled with the god ; l>ut Euripides, with a higher 
 flight of fancy, expresses the idea differently ; ttuu (U avvepdKx^v' opog.'^ 
 
 « IIk 1084. 7 See Butcher, p. 262. 
 
60 
 
 Eurotas,! '^(opiaiv evBivBpoov, with its trees and meadows, 
 
 where stood their father's house, and later- they yearn for 
 
 Artemis, the blest, who dwells by the Cynthian hill, with 
 
 its palm of dainty leafage, its sprouting bay, and sacred 
 
 sshoots of olive pale. . . .and by the lake with its rolling 
 
 waters, where tuneful swans do service to the Muses. 
 
 The ordin- It has been observed'^ that when in the Hippolytus the 
 
 attiuid?^ love-sick Phiedra yearns* for the meadow-grass beneath 
 
 towards ^^^^ poplars' shade, for the pure water of a running brook, 
 
 an ex- for the mountains and pine forests, she is at once sharply 
 
 sentimLt ^'^^^j^®<^^ ^7 ^^^ nurse for uttering such sentiments in 
 
 for public, " blurting out wnld words of frenzy."^ Phaedra her- 
 
 nature. self, a moment later, returns to her senses and is conscious 
 
 of her past folly : " Whither have I strayed from my 
 
 sober mind ? " To be so openly sentimental betokened, it 
 
 would seem, " a disordered imagination " and the rebuke 
 
 of the nurse, as Mr. Sandys observes, probably gives us a 
 
 clue to the feeling of the ordinary Athenian "^of the day 
 
 upon such matters. It is to be noted, at the same time, 
 
 that of all the plays of Euripides the Hippolytus is the 
 
 most modern in tone, being such as hitherto had never 
 
 been represented before an Athenian audience — a drama 
 
 of love, into which highly colored sentiment naturally 
 
 enters. 
 
 instances ^^® sentimentalism, however, to which Phaedra gives 
 
 of a yearn- ^^^^^^'^ce — the passion for solitude and distant places, 
 
 ing for dis- combined with a feeling for nature, can frequently be 
 
 ^^dsotr^ paralleled in Euripides' other plays. Take, foi* instance, 
 
 tilde. ^he chorus in the Bacchce -^ " that I might go to Cyprus, 
 
 isle of Aphrodite or Paphos (Ildc^ov 6'), which, never fed by 
 
 rain, is enriched by that foreign river with its hundred 
 
 mouths ! " Again : " O, to be borne on wings through the 
 
 air like Libyan cranes in close array, which leave the 
 
 winter rains and move obedient to the note of their 
 
 veteran shepherd, who raises a cry, as he wings his flight 
 
 o'er arid plains and fruitful lands ! " " 
 
 And in Ion 796 Creusa cries : " O for wings to cleave 
 
 1 Iph. Taur. 134. -'lb. 1097. 
 
 ^ Sandys, Introd, to Bacebae, p. Ixxi. * Hipp. 208. 
 
 " Hipp. 214. Similarly when Amphitryon addresses Theseus as "the 
 king that dwells on the olive-clad hill," H. F. 1178, the latter demands 
 the meaning of such a pathetic prelude. " Bac. 402. 
 
 ' Hel. 1477-1489. 
 
61 
 
 the liquid air beyond the hind of Hellas, away to the 
 western stars, so keen the anguish of my soul ! "' 
 
 The captive Greek women in the Chersonese would fain 
 "set foot, even in dreams, in their father's home and 
 city."^' 
 
 The Phrygian eunuch of the Orestes cries in his terror :' 
 " Whither can I liy, winging my way through the bright 
 sky or over the sea, which bull-headed Ocean draws in 
 circling course, as he folds his arms about the earth ? " 
 
 With very different feelings Antigone cries out, on see- 
 ing Polynices in the advancing army :* " Would I could 
 hasten through the air with the speed of wind-borne cloud 
 to my own brother and throw my arms about his dear 
 neck ! " 
 
 Hermione, when frantic at the escape of Andromache, 
 exclaims : " To what rocky height can I climb, amid the 
 sea or in a mountain forest, there to die ? "^ 
 
 Much of the sentiment of this sort, offensive as it was Sentimen - 
 to ancient critics, appears even to us overstrained and un- tality of 
 natural. For example :« "Would that like the bee of^^^P^^"'' 
 russet wing I could collect from every source my sighs and 
 blending them together shed them in one full tear ! " The 
 simile in the following is striking and beautiful, but its 
 application to old age seems very forced : " Let it sink 
 beneath the waves. that it had never come to the 
 homes and cities of mortals. Nay, let it ever wing its 
 way along the ether."^ Extravagant too seem to us the 
 aspirations of Electra in the Orestes :^ " Fain would I 
 reach the rock suspended midway between heaven and 
 earth, the rock that swings with eddying motion by golden 
 chains, a mass thrown off by Olympus." Here Euripides 
 fails to harmonize poetry and natural science, for he is 
 giving expression to Anaxagoras' doctrines of the Slvrj or 
 rotation of the heavenly bodies and of the constitution of 
 the sun,^ 
 
 Equally extravagant but much more poetical is an 
 imaginative flight in the Hippolytus. The simple 
 
 1 Of. Suppl. 618 and 620; Hec. 1100; Med. 1296; Hipp. 836; Ion 
 1238 ; Phoen. 504 ; H. F. 1148, 1158. 
 
 ' « Iph. T. 452. 3 Or. 1375. -^ Phoen. 163. « Androm. 848. 
 
 Cf. 861-5. 
 
 « H. F. 487. ^ H. F. 650. « Or. 982-6. 
 
 •• Cf. Fr. 783 xP^<^^o. (ioAoi: and Diog. Laert. 2, 10. 
 
02 
 
 theme,! " Would that I were a bird!" is amplilied in a 
 variety of ways. " I would fain have a nest in abysmal 
 caverns, where God would make me a bird amid the 
 winged tribes. And fain would I soar to the sea-waves of 
 Adria's strand and the waters of Eridanus, where a father's 
 unhappy daughters, in grief for Phaethon, drop into the 
 blue swelling main their tears' amber brilliance. And I 
 would reach the apple-bearing strand of the western 
 Muses, where the lord of ocean grants no more to sailors a 
 passage o'er waters blue, for he dwells on the holy verge 
 of heaven, upheld of Atlas, and waters ambrosial well up 
 for those that are nigh to the halls of Zeus, and there the 
 bountiful, holy earth swells the joy divine." Similar to 
 this is the fine passage, describing the flight of the "long- 
 necked " cranes, " comrades' of the racing clouds."- 
 l^uripides It will thus be seen that Euripides abounds in romantic 
 the fore- sentiment and that in this respect there is a marked differ- 
 Theocri- ^^ce between him and his predecessors. In his attitude 
 tus in towards nature he comes near to Theocritus, who " best 
 romantic loved the sights and sounds and fragrant air of the forests 
 Idyllic ^^^ ^he coast."^ Especially is he like Theocritus in a 
 tone ill certain naive and idyllic tone which well suits the pastoral 
 Euripides, jjiuse, but is less appropriate to the dignified character of 
 tragedy. Nobody, to be sure, can complain of its fitness 
 in the satyric play of the Cyclops. The Satyrs are gather- 
 ing together their flocks, " oflspring of well-bred sires and 
 dams." " Whither," they cry to one," wilt thou be gone to 
 the rocks, pray ? Hast not here a gentle breeze and grass 
 of the meadow and w^ater from eddying streams, lying in 
 troughs near the caves, where the lambs are bleating ? 
 Aw^ay ! wilt not brow^se here, here on the dewy hill- 
 side?"* 
 
 Less appropriate, however, in the opinion of many critics 
 is the rustic, common-place dress of Euripides' Electra, in 
 which the heroine appears as the wife of an honest, hard- 
 working farmer,^ for whom, though much against his will, 
 she insists on performing menial tasks.* 
 
 With charming simplicity Helen's attendant tells us 
 that she had heard her lady's cry,^ " When near the blue 
 
 1 Hipp. 732-751. "- Hel. 1487. 
 
 " A. Lang, Theocritu'^, Bion and Moschus, p. xv. 
 
 * Cyc. 41-62, c/. 11. 188-190, 507-9, 541-2. « El. 78-81. 
 
 ^ V. 11. 57, ^4, 71-6. ' Hel. 179. 
 
68 
 
 water I chanced to be hanging crimson garments along 
 the green tendrils and on the sprouting reeds to warm 
 them in the sun's golden rays." So in the HiiYpolytus^ the 
 women learn of Phaedra's indisposition from a friend who 
 in a stream that trickled from high crags was washing 
 robes of purple and spreading them out on the face of a 
 warm sunny rock. 
 
 A broom is, as a rule, a homely object, yet Euripides has 
 invested one with beauty and dignity. Ion, the young 
 ministrant at Apollo's temple, thus glorifies his daily 
 toil :'^ *' Come then, tender shoot of fairest laurel, that ser- 
 vest me to sweep the temple-steps of Phoebus, gathered 
 from gardens never failing 'neath the temple wall, where 
 holy founts that are gushing with ceaseless flow, bedew 
 the myrtle's hallowed spray, wherewith I sweep the temple- 
 floor day by day, so soon as the sun's swift wing appears, 
 in my daily service," 
 
 There is much idyllic charm in the song of the Chalcidic 
 women on the shepherd Paris.^ " Thou didst come, O Paris, 
 to where thou wert reared as herdsman among the white 
 heifers of Ida, piping foreign strains and breathing on thy 
 reeds Olympus' airs for Phrygian flutes. FuU-uddered 
 cows were browsing when* the decision between goddesses 
 maddened thee — that which sent thee to Hellas before the 
 ivory mansion " — a song which reminds one of the great 
 beauty of the second ode in the Andromache on the same 
 theme, wherein the son of >^eus and Maia guided the three 
 goddesses " to the shepherd's fold, the lonely home of the 
 young herdsman, a solitary lodge wath its hearth." An ' 
 early morning scene in the country is beautifully pictured 
 in graceful, Theocritean fashion in lines already quoted 
 from the Fhaethon.° 
 
 Sublimity can hardly be claimed as a feature of Euripides. Euripides 
 In this he is ceitainly inferior not only to Aeschylus, but^^^^^^^T^^ 
 also to Sophocles. Not that from the philosophical stand- ^^^ ™ ^' 
 point some of his conceptions of the universe and its gov- 
 ernment are not grand and lofty, but we can hardly say 
 of him, as we can of Lucretius, that scientific know- 
 ledge tended to enhance the srreatness of his imaginative 
 thought. 
 
 1 Hipp. 121. 2 Ion 112. ^ Iph. Aul. 573-583. 
 
 * oTE Hermann. ^ Fr. 773. See p. 55. 
 
64 
 
 Instances Yet there are a few passages in Euripides, illustrative- 
 
 Smityl ^^ sublimity. Madness will burst into the breast of 
 
 Heracles more wildly than^ " ocean with moaning waves 
 
 or the earthquake or piercing thunderbolt with anguish in 
 
 its breath." 
 
 In the Piritlious occurs a lofty appeal to the Creative 
 Intelligence:- "Thou, the self- begotten, that hast enwrapped 
 the universe in an etherial vortex, round whom the light,. 
 round whom the dusky, spangled night and the countless 
 host of stars dance endlessly." Sublime, too, is the con- 
 ception in the passage : " Unwearied time, full with ever- 
 flowing stream, circles round, ever begetting self, and twin 
 bears, with swift and flashing wings, guard the Atlantean 
 pole."^ 
 
 Hecuba's prayer in Tro. 884-8, though weakened by 
 scepticism,* retains much grandeur of thought : " O thou 
 that stayest the earth and art seated thereon, whosoe'er 
 thou art, passing man's understanding, Zeus or natural 
 necessity or intelligence, I pray to thee. Thou treadest 
 o'er a noiseless path, and with justice dost guide the course 
 of man." 
 Moun- Mountains are introduced into Euripides chiefly for 
 
 Eurk>ides. aesthetic reasons, as they serve as conspicuous landmarks 
 or enable the poet to introduce picturesque features. The 
 Nereids sought Achilles in Thessaly " o'er the sacred glades 
 of Pelion and Ossa's base and the peaks of Nymphaea."^ 
 Paris made his home on " Ida's slopes."^ Dionysus holds 
 his revels on' " the peak of Parnassus, mother^ of gushing- 
 streams." The Bacchantes come from Asia, from " sacred 
 Tmolus,"^ " with its rills of gold,"^" and long to visit Pieria 
 and " the holy slopes of Olympus.''^^ It was in this moun- 
 tain's '* thick forest coverts " that " Orpheus, with his lute, 
 first gathered the trees to his songs and gathered the 
 beasts of the wilds."i- 
 »now. The snow of mountain tops is a picturesque feature in a 
 
 landscape and naturally attracts the notice of the poet. 
 Parnassus is "a sacred, snow-smitten mount."^"^ On 
 Cithaeron "bright flakes of white snow are ever falling"^* — 
 
 1 H. F. 861. - Fr. 59.S, c/. Fr. 941. =» Fr. 594. 
 
 * Cf. the remark of Menelaiis, 1. 889. 
 
 5 El. 445. ^ Androm. 296. " Iph. Taiir. 1242. « fiartp' e/f. 
 
 » Bac. 64-5. ^« //^ 154. ^^ Ih. 410. ^^ ji^^ 5(^9.4. 
 
 ^3 Phoen. 2,34. ^* Bac. 661., 
 
65 
 
 Oithaeron ''vale of sacred leaves, where throng wild beasts, 
 the sno'ivy eye of Artemis."^ 
 
 But tilt! snow may suggest loneliness and desolation, as Scenes of 
 when Demeter, searching for her daughter,- "crossed the^^^^^^^*^^" 
 snow-capped heights of Ida's nymphs, and in sorrow cast 
 herself down amongst the rocks and brush, deep in 
 snow."' 
 
 Further, the mention of wild animals'^ suggests the perils Perils of 
 that encompass man in the mountains, though Dionysus Jljf^^°^°""' 
 can range freely over '' Nysa, haunt of beasts."^ When, 
 however, as in the Bacchae, man is in perfect accord with 
 nature, he may not only move at will " over the shady 
 mountains,"® but he may even regard the wild beasts of 
 the field as friendly companions and as objects of his 
 fostering care/ 
 
 Phaedra, in her frenzy of passion, yearns for the freedom 
 of the mountains,^ but Agave, who bitterly repents her 
 visit there, prays that she may never again see cursed 
 Cithaeron."^ 
 
 Finally, a mountain may typify gloom and sorrow, f or ^lo""^''^^"s- 
 /' Age is a burden heavier than Aetna's crags and casts over „{oom and 
 the eyes a darkling light.'"" sorrow. 
 
 We have already had occasion to refer to Euripides' ^,^^-^^1^^ 
 knowledge of natural philosophy. It is largely due to this and natur- 
 that we find in his plays so many references to astronomi-al philos- 
 cal facts In a chorus in the Helen occurs an allusion to*^^^^' 
 the theory of Anaxagoras that the stars moved round the 
 earth, XafjLTrpcav aarpcov vir' diWacatv (Hel. 1498). In the 
 same chorus the cranes are to fly to " the Pleiads in mid 
 heaven and Orion, star of night.''^^ The Satyrs, when 
 ordered by the Cyclops to look up, protest that they can 
 see " both the stars and Orion. "i- " Orion and Sirius flash 
 from their eyes the flaming brightness of fire."i'' " What 
 star is passing yonder ? '"* asks Agamemnon of his old 
 attendant. "Sirius," he replies, "still rushing in mid 
 heaven near the seven Pleiads," Other references to the 
 Pleiads are El. 467 (also the Hyades), Or. 1005, Ion 1152, 
 
 1 Phoen. 80]. - Hel. 1323-6, cf. Ipli. Aul. 1284. 
 
 ^ Similarly, the picture of Electra's humble and desolate home is made 
 complete with " broken mountain cliffs," El. 210. 
 
 * Phoen. 801, cf. Rhes. 289. » Bac. 556. « Bac. 218. 
 
 • lb. 695-703. ^ Hipp. 215. » Bac. 1^84, cf. Phoen. 1605. 
 ^0 H. F. 638-642. i^ Hel 1489, cf Fr. 929. 
 
 ^2 Cyc. 213. ^» Hec. 1101. ^^ Ipli. Aul. 6. 
 
 9 
 
06 
 
 and Fr. 779 ; and the Hypsipyle had an allusion to the 
 twelve signs of the Zodiac.^ Illustrations from the stars, 
 or their rising and setting, will be found in Fhoen. 835, 
 H. F. 667, Hix}p. 372 and 1121. 
 
 The elaborate tapestry work in the banquet hall of 
 Xuthus at Delphi- exhibited " Uranus marshalling his stars 
 in the vault of heaven ; the sun-god driving his steeds 
 towards his goal of fire and drawing in his train the 
 bright star of evening. Sable-garbed night, with a single 
 pair of steeds, sped by in bounding car, and the stars bore 
 the goddess company. Across the mid-sky sailed a Pleiad, 
 and sword- bearing Orion too, while above was the Bear, 
 circling round by the tail upon the golden pole. The 
 moon's full orb, which divides the month, was shooting 
 her arrows aloft, the Hyades were there, clearest sign for 
 sailors, and light-bringing Dawn was chasing away the 
 stars." 
 
 A curious piece of evidence that even in ancient times 
 ^^ Euripides' close observation of external phenomena was 
 
 Its au- recognized, is to be found in the argument prefixed to the 
 thenticity. Rhesus. This is a play so little Euripidean in its general 
 style that many have denied its genuineness. The writer 
 of the argument mentions the doubts entertained even in 
 his day. " But," he adds, " it is entered in the Didascaliae 
 as belonging to Euripides, and the curiosity shown in it 
 respecting the phenomena of the heavens betrays his 
 hand."^ This statement evidently refers to the passage* 
 Avhere the Trojan sentinels expect to be relieved. They 
 notice the signs of approaching morn. " Night's earliest 
 stars are on the wane, the seven Pleiads mount the sky ; 
 and the eagle glides midway through the heavens. Awake, 
 why linger ? Up from your beds to the watch. See ye 
 not the moon's pale beams ? Morn, yes morn is now at 
 hand and lo ! the star that is day's harbinger" — a passage 
 which may well be compared with the astronomical obser- 
 vations at the opening of the Ipldgenia at Aidis. 
 
 But if we go a little further in the Bfiesus, we shall find 
 still better evidence of the genuineness of this play. It is 
 the hand of Euripides that we see in the pleasing descrip- 
 tion of the dying night. " Hark ! I hear her ; 'tis the 
 
 1 Fr. 755. 2 Ion 1147. 
 
 •• ^ // Trepl TO, fierdpaia dt tv avnJ TroAv-payuoairr/ tov Ebpt~Uh^v uuo/.oyel. 
 
 * Khes. 11. 527-536. 
 
67 
 
 tuneful nightingale.... trilling her woes. Already on 
 Ida's slopes they are pasturing the flocks and through the 
 night I catch the shrill notes of the pipe. Sleep soothes 
 my eye-lids ; for sweetest is that which steals o'er them at 
 dawn."^ 
 
 Of the three tragic poets, Euripides undoubtedly delights Pietu- 
 most in picturesque coloring. If he does not give his^^jj}^^^ -^j 
 fancy free play he will at least suggest the beauty of a Euripides, 
 scene or heighten romantic interest by means of striking 
 and charming touches. The Bacchantes are seated " under 
 the green firs and on the roofless rocks."- The fawn 
 " bounds over the meadow by the river," glad to bury 
 herself " in the foliage of the shady wood."^ Agave will 
 espy Pentheus behind "smooth rock or tree,"* and the 
 unlucky king climbs a fir that has a " towering neck."^ In 
 the race for their prey, the Bacchantes " bound o'er torrent 
 glen and broken crags,'"^ then scatter the corpse " beneath 
 rugged rocks and amid the dense green woods.'"^ Phaedra 
 is the noblest of all women " seen by the sun's light and 
 night's starry radiance."^ The great wave sent up by 
 Posidon comes swelling and " plashing with foam."^ Thrace 
 is a " wintry " world,^" the Acropolis a " wind-swept^ 
 hill,"ii Castalia has " silvery eddies."^- Phcebus met Creusa 
 when his " locks were aglint with gold," and she was 
 gathering saffron flowers " of golden gleam,"^' but Hades is 
 a winged creature that " glares beneath his dark brows."** 
 The sun was a 
 
 " long- levelled rule of streaming light.'"* 
 
 Kavwv (Ta<f)rifi, when the troops were marshalled outside 
 Electra's gate.*® After the battle Theseus buries the fallen 
 in the " dells of Cithaeron .... in the shade of Eleutherae's 
 cliff"."" Helios has " a throne with golden face "*^ amid 
 " the pathless light "'* in " heaven's radiant vales ; "'^® the 
 moon " eye of gloomy night "-^ is " daughter of Latona of 
 the bright zone, a circle of golden light,"-- and heaven is 
 the " star-spangled firmament."-'' Salamis is a " sea-girt 
 isle, that lies near Attica's holy hills,"^^ and Aulis is 
 
 1 Rhe. 546. ^ Bac. 38, cf. 11. 340 and 445. ' lb. 11. 873-6. 
 
 * lb. 1. 977. « lb. 1. 1061. « lb. 11. 109.3-4. ^ lb. 11. 1137-8. 
 
 ^ Hipp. 849-851; cf. Ion 870 and Fr. 114, H. F. 406. 
 
 ■^ Hipp. 1. 1210. i« Ale. 68, cf. Fr. 696 ; Hec. 81. 
 
 ^ ^ Heracl. 781. ''' Ion 95. ' •' Ion 887-890. ' * Ale. 261. 
 
 ^ ^ Milton's Gomus. ' « Suppl. 650. ' • Suppl. 757-9. ' « El. 740. 
 
 ^» Phoen. 809, cf Fr. 771, 781 ; Tro. 860. -« Phoen. 84. 
 
 -1 Iph. Taur. 110. -'- Phoen. 175. ■''■' Hel. 1096. 2* Tro. 799. 
 
68 
 
 " waveless, Euboea's sheltering wing."i Euripus is " ever 
 turning liis eddies, with the changing breeze, while he rolls 
 his deep blue wave."- The sons of Silenustend the flocks 
 " on the edge of the hills "-^ and the " dewey slope,"* and 
 take their pleasure in " dewey caves."^ " Woodland 
 founts "^' must not beguile the messenger, and at the wed- 
 ding of Peleus the Nereids danced on the " white-gleam- 
 ing sand."'^ Heracles " has tamed pathless wilds and rag- 
 ing sea,"^ and Pelops " drove his car near the Geraestian 
 sands of Ocean's surge, w^hen white with foam."^ 
 Poetical Some of the most beautiful and poetical characteriza- 
 treatment tions of night and day to be found in all Greek literature 
 arKT^day ^^'® ^^ Euripides. Thus we have " white-winged day,"^*^* 
 " night of sable garb,"^^ " dusky, spangled night,"^^ " sable 
 night, nurse of golden stars,"!^ and " night, queenly night,, 
 giver of sleep to mortal men."^* 
 Pictu- Euripides' love of picturesque scenes at night admits of 
 
 resque many an illustration. In the opening of the Rhesus " the 
 scenes. ^j^gjyg jjQst kindles fires the live-long night and the 
 anchored fleet is bright with torches.''^^ So, too, the night 
 of Troy's fall came down in gloom,^^ yet there was a sound 
 of revehy, and " in the halls the bright blazing lights shed 
 flickering gleams upon the sleepers."^^ The Oarnean 
 festival is held at Sparta "when the moon rides high all 
 the night."^^ The Ijjhigenia at Aulis opens in the dead of 
 a still night, with Agamemnon in restless mood, pacing up 
 and down before his tent upon the beach, and anxiously 
 scanning the bright stars.^^ 
 Vivid and" The narrative passages in Euripides are unsurpassed in 
 pictu- their vivid and realistic force. The messenger, describing 
 mrrative. Neoptolemus' death, tells us how " in perfect calm, with 
 ' flash of oleamino- arms, his master stood " amid his mur- • 
 derous foes.-^ 
 
 Rhesus comes to Troy '' like a god, mounted on Thracian 
 car."^^ His snow-white steeds are yoked with gold,^^ and to 
 their frontlets is bound a gorgon of bronze f^ his shield 
 flashes with welded gold.^* 
 
 1 Iph. Aul. 120. 2 iph. Taur. 6. « Cyc. 27. * Cyc. 50. 
 
 ^ Cyc. 516. « Iph. Aul. 141. ' Iph. Aul. 1054. 
 
 " JI. F. 851. » Or. 992. ^" Tro. 847. " Ion 1150. 
 
 ^ - Fr. 593, cf. Aesch. Prom. 24 /) TToiKileifiov vv^. ^ » El. 54. 
 
 -'* Or. 174. 1^ Rhes. 41-3. ^^ Tro. 543. ^' Tro. 547-550. 
 
 "^ « Ale. 450, ^/. Hel. 1366-7. ^ •* Iph. Aul. 6. ^o ^udrom. 1145. 
 
 -' Rhes. 301. -'' lb. 304-5. ''^ lb. 306-7. "* lb. 305, 
 
69 
 
 Illustrations of vigorous and detailed picturesque narra- 
 tive are to be found in every play of Euripides. Among 
 the best we may note the account of Hippolytus' death/ 
 of Heracles' fit of madness,- of the attempted escape of 
 Orestes and Iphigenia.' But undoubtedly the' most vivid 
 and brilliant illustrations in all Euripides are the two 
 messengers' speeches in the Bacchae} The latter is a 
 marvellous account of the death of Pentheus — full of 
 vigor and thrilling interest. "First^ we halted in a 
 grassy glade, taking care to move with noiseless footfall 
 and silent tongues, that so, not seen ourselves, we might 
 yet see them. Now it was a ravine between lofty rocks, 
 watered by streamlets, and shaded o'er by pines."^ The 
 stranger who accompanied Pentheus " caught^ by the tip 
 a soaringj, branch of fir, and tuofo-ed it down, down, down, 
 to the dark ground," then, seating the king upon it, he let 
 the tree rise " gently,^ for fear the steed should throw his 
 rider." Then comes that solemn stillness in nature^ 
 
 <po/jJ -^-X'-, OrjpoJ'^ (Too/. a> Yjxoufra^ Ij<)yj>. 
 
 When the women heard the cry of Dionysus, " swift as 
 doves .... they leapt through the torrent-glen and over the 
 rocks, frantic with heaven-sent madness."^^ 
 
 The radiant fancy and picturesque splendor which illu- 
 minate this lovely creation oi art, the Bacchae, and before 
 which even Schlegel's hostility towards Euripides must 
 bow, may be said to be due to the special character of the 
 play, which is animated from first to last by the wild 
 enthusiasm of the votaries of Dionysius. What, for in- 
 stance, can exceed the joyous freedom and delight in nature 
 expressed in the following lines ?^i " Shall I ever, in dances 
 thro' the live-long night, trip with my fair foot in Bacchic 
 revelry ? while I toss my neck into the dewy air, like a 
 fawn, that sports in the joys of green meadows, what time 
 she flees from the fearful chase, clear of the watch, over the 
 woven nets ; while with loud halloo the hunter braces his 
 hounds to utmost speed, and she' by dint of toil and bursts 
 of speed bounds o'er the meads of the river-side, rejoicing 
 
 1 Hipp. 1173 1254. ^ H. F. 922-1015. ^ Iph. Taur. 1327-1420. 
 
 * 11. 677-775 and 11. 1043-1152. ^ jf,^ io48. 
 
 « See above, p. 37. ' Bac. 1064. » Ih. 1072. 
 
 -• J^ee above, p. 59. "> Bac. 1093-4. ^i Bac. 862-911. 
 
 
70 
 
 in solitudes unbroken by man, and amid the foliage of the 
 shady forest." 
 Passionate g^t whatever the cause of this conspicuous feature of 
 nature as ^^^ Bcicchae, the poet's choice of subject, and his marked 
 a subject success in handling the same and giving it the most appro- 
 of primary pi>iate garb are most conclusive proofs of a deep and pas- 
 sionate love for nature. And indeed, as must now be clear 
 enough, every play of Euripides furnishes ample evidence 
 that the poet, however much he was held in restraint by 
 conventional usage or dramatic necessit}', gives frequent 
 expression to a pure delight in the charms of the heavens 
 above with their " eddies of racing clouds,"^ or his earthly 
 paradise here below, where he rejoices to see " abundant 
 ivy creeping up, a lovely growth, home of tuneful night- 
 ingales." - 
 
 His graceful eulogy of Athens in the Medea,-'' like the 
 similar one of Sophocles in the Oedipus Coloneus, may be 
 disregarded because of its peculiar associations, but note the 
 beauty and simplicity of the delightful picture of Troyland 
 in the Troades :* " Ida's ivy-clad glens, where streams from 
 the snows are coursing, — earth's limit, where the sun smites 
 first, — a sacred home of radiant light ; " or of Delphi in the 
 Phoenissae,^ "where Phoebus dwells 'neath the snow-smitten 
 peaks of Parnassus." There the maidens will find " Cas- 
 talj-'s waters, to bedew the glory of their tresses." There 
 is "the rock that kindles bright fire, with double crest, 
 above the sacred heights of Dionysus ; there the vine that 
 day by day drips with wine, sending forth fruit- laden 
 clusters of the grape, and there are the sacred cavern of 
 the dragon, the god^' outlook on the liills and the hallowed 
 snow-smitten ■ mount." 
 
 The opening scene in the Hiirpolytiis!^ where the pure- 
 minded prince brings to the chaste Artemis the offering of 
 a wreath of flowers, culled not from well- tilled gardens, 
 but from the unshorn meadows, untouched by any shep- 
 herd's flock or mower's scythe, but where the wild bee in 
 spring-time passes free, — is a beautiful proof of the poet's 
 love and reverence for nature 'unadorned, all the more 
 exquisite for the union of the soul's purity with the sim- 
 plicity of nature. 
 
 1 Ale. 245. - Fr. 88. See Fr. 316, quoted on p. 9. 
 
 ■' 11. 824-846, see above p. 52. * Tro. 1066-1070. 
 
 ^ Phoen. 202-239. « Hipp. 73 flf. 
 
71 
 
 We have seen that in their attitude towards nature, The three 
 there are considerable differences between the three Attic tragedians 
 tragedians. A love of nature can undoubtedly be attributed 
 to each, but while in Aeschylus, and to a less extent in 
 Sophocles, this love is inconspicuous and, so to speak, 
 merely latent, in Euripides it is a prominent feature and 
 finds much more definite expression. 
 
 A simple, sensuous enjoyment of nature is easily dis- How 
 cerned in all three poets. In each we may observe how (ji^^ers*^ *^^ 
 nature plays the secondary part of illustrating life, and of from the 
 aftbrding an appropriate background for the display of othertwo. 
 human thought and feeling. But as we ascend in the 
 aesthetic scale, we find that the attitude of mind, which -^ 
 personalizes nature and endows her with a life and spirit 
 of her own, is more marked in Sophocles than in Aeschylus 
 and more pronounced in Euripides than in Sophocles. As 
 to a sense of sympathy between nature and man, including 
 the ascription of human thought and feeling to nature, 
 there is none in Aeschylus, except in the Prometheus.^ We 
 recognize its occasional appearance in Sophocles, especially 
 in the latest plays, but in Euripides we find this conception 
 abundantly illustrated, — a conception which, while rare in 
 Greek literature, is so conspicuous in modern poetry. 
 
 Euripides' feeling for nature can be detected in a num- 
 ber of minor ways. He delights in frequent picturesque 
 touches from nature, in all the varied beauties of earth 
 and sea and sky, in harmonious landscapes, in brilliant 
 light and wealth of color, in sympathetic references to 
 birds and animals, as well as numerous allusions to the 
 trees, fruits and flowers of the botanical world. 
 
 But notwithstanding Euripides' genuine appreciation of ^-»iripitle» 
 
 nature, we must not fail to notice his shortcomino^s. °P.tf^;t?.. 
 All 1 r>i T 1 -1 If' criticism. 
 
 Aeschylus and Sophocles can never be accused oi senti- 
 mental padding. We are convinced that in them not only 
 is the emotion expressed at all times genuine, but the 
 aesthetic coloring is never too profuse, and is always 
 artistically sound. In the case of Euripides, we have to 
 complain of excessive pathos and sentiment, and in his 
 numerous prettinesses we occasionally detect an air of 
 unreality and insincerity.- Sometimes this is due to the 
 mere frequency with which they are introduced, sometimes 
 
 ^ See pp. 17 and 18 above. - Cf. pp. 20-2 with pp. 37 and 52 above. 
 
72 
 
 to their scholastic air/ in a few cases to the display of 
 topographical inaccuracy, but most frequently to the 
 detailed and unnecessary minuteness with which the vari- 
 ous aspects of the world of nature are described. If we 
 further consider the extravagant yearnings for a change of 
 scene to which Euripides not seldom gives utterance, as 
 well as his almost total lack of sublimity, we shall be able 
 to understand why Euripides' attitude towards nature 
 should be open to criticism, at least from the point of view 
 of the ancients. 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 Aristo- ^RISTOPHANES ridicules the style and sentimental- 
 and"^^ ^^^ ^^ Euripides in many an amusing parody. He 
 
 Euripides, laughs at the tragic poet's musical innovations, his metrical 
 carelessness, his mixture of commonplace and grandilo- 
 quent language, his jingling repetitions, his medley of 
 incongruous pictures, his exaggerated pathos, his affected 
 sublimity — but further (and this is a point seemingly 
 unnoticed by scholars and critics), he ridicules his manner of 
 dealing with external nature, especially the toying minute- 
 ness with which he delights in dwelling upon the sights 
 and sounds of the world of sense. What else is the point 
 of Aristophanes' contemptuous reference to an innocent 
 couplet from the Alcmene (already quoted),- 
 
 7:0X0^ (fd'^elp-s xtfTfTO'^ eb(porj<s xXddo? 
 
 or of his parody of some beautiful lines from the Bellero- 
 phonV "Give place, thou dusky leafage, let me surmount 
 the watered glens. I am fain to see the heavens o'erhead." 
 Such pretty refinements might, in the critic's judgment, 
 harmonize with the lighter and less earnest character of 
 his own sphere, comedy, but were quite out of place on 
 " the buskined sta^je." 
 
 1 See pp. 65, 66 above. ^ See p. 70^. 
 
 » Fr. 88. See Aristoph. Ran. 93. * Fr. 308. See Aristoph. Vesp. 757. 
 
73 
 
 Aristophanes' most concentrated criticism of Euripides' Criticigm 
 failings occurs in the Frogs,^ where, before the niock^^^^^® 
 tribunal in the land of Hades, Aeschylus recites delicious 
 parodies upon the choral-songs and monodies of his brother 
 poet, who has recently come down to the world of the 
 departed. "Ye halcyons, that by the ever-flowing sea- 
 waves chatter, sprinkling with the moist drops from your 
 wings your dew-sprayed bodies, and ye that dwell in 
 crannies under eaves — ye spiders, that tw . . . . irl with your 
 fingers the loom-worked threads, the singing shuttle's 
 cares, where the flute-loving dolphin flounders about the 
 prows of ships with their dark-blue beaks — oracles, and 
 furlongs, the vine-blossom's joy, tendril of the grape that 
 banishes care ! . . . . 
 
 " I'd like," continues Aeschylus,- " to set forth the fashion 
 of your monodies." The theme of the example given is 
 this : A woman, while spinning thread for the market, falls 
 asleep and is visited by a horrible dream that her neighbor 
 Olyce has robbed her hen-roost. She awakes with invo- 
 cations to the Powers of night, and in impassioned tones 
 <5alls upon Artemis and Hecate, as well as her Cretan 
 maidens, to aid her in finding the thief. '' O darkly shin- 
 ing gloom of night, what hideous dream dost thou send me 
 from the w^orld unseen, a minister of Hell, with lifeless life, 
 sable night's offspring, a horrible vision of dread, clad in 
 dark-funereal robes, with glare so bloody, bloody and claws 
 so huge ! Come, my maids, light me a lamp and bring me 
 in your pitchers fresh water from rivers, and warm some 
 that I may wash off the fiendish dream. Ho ! god of the 
 sea ! there we have it ! Ho ! my fellows, mark these por- 
 tents. My cock — Glyce has carried him off and is gone. 
 Ye nymphs, mountain-born ! Mania, help !' Luckless 
 one, I was working at my tasks, tw . . . . irling in my hands 
 a spindle full of flax, spinning a skein of thread, that at 
 early dawn I might take it to the market to be 
 sold. But up he flew, up into the sky, with the tips of 
 nimblest pinions, and for me he ieft behind woes ; and 
 tears, tears from my eyes I let fall, fall, unhappy one ! 
 Come, ye Cretans, children of Ida, seize your bows and 
 succor me and lightly move your limbs, encircling the 
 house. Ay and let the maid Dictynna, too, fair Artemis, 
 
 1 Aristoph. Ran. 1301 fF. 2 Aristoph. Ran. 1329. 
 
 •■' See Kock's note on I. 1345. 
 
 10 
 
74 
 
 in the 
 criticism 
 
 Addition- 
 al points 
 to be 
 observed. 
 
 Avith her little clogs, pass through the house, hither anti 
 thither. And thou, daughter of Zeus, upholding in thy 
 hands a double torch of brightest flame, — thou, O Hecate, 
 light me along to Glyce's that I may enter in and make a 
 search." 
 The points According to the commentators,^ the following points 
 noti^ced ^^^ *^ ^^ noticed in the parodies : (1) The general confu- 
 sion of the scenes ; (2) the paltry, trivial objects and cir- 
 cumstances, which are not in keeping with the apparent 
 loftiness of tone ; (3) the misuse of rhetorical figures ; (4) 
 the unnecessary repetitions ; (5) the arbitrary character of 
 the metres ; (6) the musical innovations. 
 
 Let me call attention, however, to these additional fea- 
 tures: (1) The prominence given to the sights and sounds 
 of external nature ; vines and grapes ;- the sea, rivers and 
 deivy water;" the halcyons* chattering, the spiders^ spin- 
 ning, and the dolphin^ at his gambols ; 
 
 (2) The invocation and the characterizations of night,^ 
 S) Nua:to9 Ke\aivo(f)ar)<; 6p<f>va, 1. 1381 ; /jL€\aiva<; Nuacto? 
 TralSa, 1. 1335, and /jueXavoveKveifjiova, 1. 1337; 
 
 (3) Kve(f)alo(;, 1. 1350,® a hit at Euripides' fondness for 
 various expressions for darkness and light f 
 
 (4) The use of hpoaof; for water, a very favorite expres- 
 sion with Euripides.^" Compare pavCai XP^^ hpoGitpfxevaL, 
 1.1312; 
 
 (5) Ta9 KvvLGKa^, 1. 1360; a hit at Euripides' abundant 
 and varied references to animals and animal life ;" 
 
 (6) iTpwpai^ Kvai>efjLff6\ot<;, 1. 1318,^- a hit at Euripides' 
 fondness for color ;^-' 
 
 (7) olvdvda^; ydvo<^ dfjuiriXov, 1. 1320.'* This periphrasis 
 is used by Aeschylus of luine, {Pers. (315), but similar ex- 
 pressions are more common in Euripides. 
 
 ^ See especially Kock's and Merry's notes on 11, 1309 and 1330. 
 
 - 11. 1320-1, see pp. 4r)-48 above. =■ 11. 1309, 1311-2, 1339, 1341. 
 
 See pp. 42-4o above. * 1. 1309. See pp. 48-9 above. " 1. 1313. 
 
 <5 1. 1317. "See above p. 68. « Cf. Ale. 593. This particular 
 
 word does not occur in Sophocles, but is found once in Aesch. Pr. 1029. 
 '•* See above pp. 38-9. Besides KVEcbaioc, crKoreivog (used by Aesch. 
 and Soph.), bp(pvalog (used by Aesch.), Euripides -has also employed 
 /.vyaiog, yvo<l>id6jig^ a/iiVAOTTfc avyal (Rhes. 737) /////?/ i'w~or, Cofepog and 
 auo/.yov vi'Kra (Fr. 104), expressions which are not found in Aeschylus or 
 Sophocles. ^^ Cf. Iph. Taur. 25,"), 1192 ; Hipp. 127, 77 ; Iph. Aul. 182; 
 Androm. 1H7 ; Ion 97. (^pocov occurs only once in Soph, and then in pro- 
 per sense of dew, Ai. 1208 ; in Aesch. it is apjilied to water once, Euni. 
 9(»4, but it occurs five times in all. ^ ^ See above pp. 48-9. 
 
 ^ - See El. 438 ff. ^ "' See pp. 38-41 above. ^ * See p. 5(5 above. 
 
s 
 consist ''. 
 
 75 
 
 The most prominent and obvious feature of these paro- Wherein 
 dies is the exaggerated and affected sentiment. That this ge^ntimen 
 sentimentalism largely consists in a proneness to giving tality of 
 minute and toying descriptions of external nature should Euripide 
 also, I take it, be obvious. The picture given of the""""'""^ 
 halcyons, chattering by the sea-waves and besprinkling 
 their bodies with moisture ; the spiders, spinning their 
 webs in the crannies of the roof ; the dolphin, sporting 
 under the blue prows of ships and all, mixed up in incon- 
 gruous manner with the vine and fruit of the grape, — is 
 one worthy of the author of " Alice in Wonderland." 
 
 It is evident that in Euripides a change has come over Euripides 
 the spirit of Greek literature. He lived at a time when Xiileeln 
 the fountains of old Greek life were breaking up, and cul- Greek 
 ture, thought and religion were fast being revolutionized, spirit. 
 Philosophy was shaking the old beliefs in the order and 
 conditions of the universe ; primitive simplicity and antique 
 piety were tottering to their fall. Men were instituting 
 inquiries into the nature of things, and at the same time 
 were becoming more reflective and introspective. 
 
 With the tendencies of the day Euripides keenly sym- His inno- 
 pathized, and as the poet of the new times, claimed the j'f ^r "^ 
 right to adapt his art to new conditions, and to free it 
 from traditional restrictions. In his hands the drama 
 began to assume a freedom unknown before ; characters 
 and situations were admitted which shocked the strait- 
 laced adherents of the old school, and long rhetorical dis- 
 cussions tickled the ears of the litigation-loving Athenians. 
 
 But it w^as the lyrical part of the drama that Euripides His choral 
 ti'eated w^ith the greatest freedom. No longer requiring °^^^" 
 the chorus to feel a deep interest in the actors, he allows 
 the singing of odes that have no reference to the plot, 
 simply to fill up, it would seem, the necessary intervals 
 between the difi'erent acts. Such an innovation naturally 
 gave Euripides greater license in the subjects and treat- 
 ment of his choral songs, and in his hands tragedy begins 
 to approach the character of the Romantic drama, in which 
 highly colored sentiment is a characteristic feature. 
 
 Apart^ from the general features of the age into which Euripides' 
 Euripides was born, we may find peculiarities in his own ch^p^^ter 
 life and circumstances w^hich must have larofelv affected^ tracer 
 
 ^ See Nauck's essay " De Euripidis vita poesi ingenio " prefixed to his 
 edition of Euripides. 
 
76 
 
 the tone and character of his poetry. Unlike most of his 
 contemporaries, Euripides took no part in the public life 
 of Athens/ but lived in calm retirement, in the midst of 
 his books and art-treasures, enjoying the converse of a few 
 select friends, who were men after his own heart, men of 
 thousrht and learning?. Endowed- with a refined mind and 
 artistic sensibilities/' combined with acute intellectual 
 powers, he preferred to avoid the busy world with all its 
 jarring discord and devote himself, in peaceful seclusion, 
 to a poet's life.* But this very self-withdrawal, cutting 
 him off from active intercourse with his fellow-men and 
 sending him, for a knowledge of human nature, to books 
 instead,^ tended, as it always tends, to make him unprac- 
 tical and, as judged by his contemporaries, sentimental. 
 Difference As a race the Greeks, notwithstanding their ardent 
 between ^^^® ^^ ^^^ beautiful. Were not sentimental — far from it. 
 ancient Living an out-of-door life, in a pure, translucent air, they 
 and mod- were eminentl}^ distinguished for a practical, common- 
 em life, ggnse, objective manner of looking at things. Modern life, 
 on the other hand, is largely spent indoors and among 
 books, and in consequence our literature is deeply dyed 
 with the subjective and introspective spirit. 
 The secret To a man of the world, like Aristophanes, with his 
 *^j^^"^gg!*°' strong healthy mind, and sound common sense, such a 
 hostility, spirit as that which he now saw creeping into the national 
 literature must have appeared foolish, unnatural and 
 unmanly. No doubt he had as keen an appreciation as 
 
 1 See Ion 59,1. 
 
 2 See the Greek life of Euripides, 1. 16 (Nauck) : '^aol Jf avrbu koi 
 Co)ypd<l)ov ■yeveadai iced (hiKvvadai avrov ~ivdKta kv ^[eydpoLQ. 
 
 ^ The following references to art are found in Euripides : 
 
 (a) Painting : Tro. 687, Ion 271, Hel. 262, Hec. 807, Fr. 618. 
 
 \h) Sculpture and statuary : Hec. 560, Ion 184-219, Iph. A. (figures 
 for ships), 239, 250, 255, 275. 
 
 (c) Embroidery : Hec. 468, Iph. Taur. 222, 814, 816, Ion 196. 
 
 (cZ) Tapestry : Ion 1141. 
 
 (e) Shield ornamentation : El. 452. 
 
 (/) Dance and music : Iph. Aul. 1036, Iph. Taur. 1143, H. F. 673. 
 
 {g) Dress and personal bearing : Bac. 821-836, 927-944, Iph. T. 1148-9. 
 
 \h) Gracefulness : Cyc. 563, Hec. 568-570. The last example is the 
 extraordinary passage where it is said that Polyxena " even with her last 
 breath took great care to fall in graceful fashion, hiding what one ought 
 to hide from the eyes of men." When Euripides could display such pru- 
 dery, no wonder Aristophanes found him excessively sentimental. 
 
 (i) Interest in beauty of person : Bac. 233-6, 453-9, 693 ; H. F. 134, 
 Phoen. 786, Iph. T. 1143. 
 
 * Of. H. F. 673, nv Ccotjv iief n/xovakc. ^ Of. Aristoph. Ran. 943. 
 
77 
 
 Euripides of the beautiful in nature, and possibly as much 
 appreciation of the pathos^ of human life, but he also 
 recognized the principle that deep feeling did not call for 
 full expression, that a certain moderation and reserve 
 should prevail in all art, and that just as it is a well 
 known rule in painting not to crowd too much upon the 
 canvas, so, too, in literary art, self-restraint should be 
 exercised, strength of expression lying in brevity and 
 suggestiveness, but weakness in full expansion. 
 
 The most romantic of the plays of Euripides is one of The 
 his ver}^ latest — the Bacchae — composed while the poet^«cc^«e 
 was enjoying the hospitality of Archelaus in Macedonia, ^^^^*^® 
 and not exhibited in Athens until after Euripides' death. 
 The many points pf similarity between the Frogs of 
 Aristophanes and the Bacchae, have naturally suggested 
 that the comedy was, to some extent, a parody upon the 
 tragedy. And though on an examination of the external 
 evidence, we must be convinced that the Frogs was written 
 before Aristophanes could have seen the Bacchae per- 
 formed, the impression will still remain that there is some 
 connection between the two plays and that possibly the 
 general plan of the Frogs is partly due to the rumors that 
 had reached Athens in reference to the character and 
 success of this, the most sentimental and at the same time 
 the most successful of Euripides' plays. 
 
 Finally, we might ask, How far did Euripides' departure Suggested 
 from Athens to a country where, in the midst of those ^.^P^^"^- 
 northern wilds, his spirit had freer range, and the emotions roniantic ^ 
 awakened by communion with nature unadorned were character 
 unchecked in their expression by the sneers of critics and of the 
 the established canons of art — how far did this affect the '^^^' "^* 
 form of the highest creation of pure fancy in Greek 
 literature ? 
 
 ^ The pathos of Euripides is so prominent that Mrs. Browning regards 
 it as the poet's main characteristic : 
 
 Our Euripides the human, 
 
 With his droppings of warm tears. 
 And his touches of things common, 
 
 Till the}' rose to touch the spheres. 
 
INDEX OF CITATIONS FROM THE GREEK TRAGEDIANS. 
 
 PAGE. 
 
 Agam. 49 14 
 
 79 12 
 
 136 16 
 
 141 14 
 
 253 17 
 
 264 17 
 
 281-316 .... 19 
 
 306 16, 54 
 
 394 14 
 
 495 16 
 
 522 16 
 
 565 19 
 
 650 15 
 
 655 15 
 
 659 13 
 
 740 19 
 
 743 13 
 
 954 13 
 
 958 19 
 
 1050 14 
 
 1063 14 
 
 1141. 13 
 
 1146 13 
 
 1157 10 
 
 1180 17 
 
 1258 14 
 
 1316 14 
 
 1389 12 
 
 1444 14 
 
 1473 14 
 
 1533 12 
 
 1671 14 
 
 Choeph. 51 16 
 
 61 17 
 
 184 12 
 
 247 14 
 
 390 11 
 
 421 14 
 
 506 12 
 
 961 17 
 
 972 17 
 
 Eiimen. 111..... 14 
 
 246 14 
 
 280 15 
 
 555 11 
 
 861 14 
 
 904 74 
 
 911 12 
 
 AESCHYLUS. 
 
 I'AGE. 
 
 Eumen. 1005 11 
 
 Pers. 1-150 .... 10 
 
 33 10 
 
 45 10 
 
 53 10 
 
 59 13 
 
 108 19 
 
 129 14 
 
 231-2 10 
 
 300 16 
 
 353-432 .... 19 
 
 424 12 
 
 428 16 
 
 448 15 
 
 487 16 
 
 577 16 
 
 611-8 13 
 
 763 11 
 
 Prom. 5 18 
 
 7 13 
 
 24 24 
 
 88 11, 17 
 
 90 19 
 
 139 19 
 
 144 15 
 
 348 15 
 
 351 15 
 
 369 11 
 
 420 13 
 
 425-30 17 
 
 431-5 17 
 
 452 14 
 
 531 19 
 
 717 45 
 
 720 18 
 
 726 16 
 
 805 10 
 
 809 45 
 
 812 11 
 
 857 14 
 
 880 16 
 
 885 12 
 
 915-1093.... 19 
 
 984 54 
 
 1022 16 
 
 1029 74 
 
 1091-3 17 
 
 Sept. 
 
 Suppl. 
 
 Fragm. 
 
 PACiK. 
 
 17 16 
 
 63 12 
 
 64 16 
 
 85 12 
 
 155 15 
 
 212 12 
 
 290 14 
 
 304 11 
 
 309 =. 10 
 
 390 16 
 
 494 16 
 
 503 14 
 
 758 11 
 
 4 10 
 
 5 11 
 
 57 13 
 
 74 13 
 
 86 14 
 
 223 14 
 
 350 14 
 
 408 12 
 
 469 25 
 
 548 11 
 
 551 18 
 
 555 11 
 
 558 11 
 
 561 11 
 
 663 13 
 
 760 14 
 
 776 18 
 
 792-8 18 
 
 855 10 
 
 886 14 
 
 963 13 
 
 1029 10 
 
 44 15 
 
 66 11 
 
 69 15 
 
 70 15 
 
 169 53 
 
 170 15 
 
 192 11 
 
 195 19 
 
 199 19 
 
 251 12 
 
 300 11 
 
 316 9 
 
 464 15 
 
SOPHOCLES. 
 
 Ajax 
 
 Antig. 
 
 Elect. 
 
 139.... 
 197.... 
 205.... 
 257 .... 
 351 .... 
 395.... 
 412-9.. 
 418.... 
 558.... 
 629.... 
 654... . 
 669-677 
 674..., 
 693.... 
 695 ... 
 706.... 
 709.... 
 
 27 
 26 
 25 
 26 
 24 
 30 
 31 
 45 
 26 
 27 
 22 
 24 
 30 
 32 
 29 
 30 
 30 
 815 ff 23 
 
 22, 
 
 845. 
 
 862. 
 
 960. 
 1148. 
 1208. 
 1217. 
 
 Oed. Col. 
 
 100 
 
 113 
 
 167 
 
 332 
 
 350 
 
 418 
 
 423 
 
 586 
 
 605 
 
 670 
 
 712 
 
 715 
 
 785 
 
 825 
 
 844 
 
 879 
 
 994 
 
 1040 
 
 1115-1152.. 
 1131 
 
 17. 
 
 86. 
 
 107. 
 
 147. 
 
 1075. 
 
 30 
 31 
 27 
 26 
 74 
 22 
 
 30 
 28 
 28 
 33 
 32 
 45 
 28 
 34 
 32 
 25 
 25 
 25 
 33 
 26 
 31 
 30 
 25 
 28 
 29 
 26 
 
 28 
 30 
 27 
 27 
 27 
 
 16 21, 26 
 
 17 27 
 
 56 21 
 
 83 26 
 
 157 26 
 
 183 30 
 
 482 26 
 
 668-706.21,27,29 
 
 668 24 
 
 670 22, 26 
 
 671 27 
 
 685 23 
 
 687 45 
 
 694-706 .... 26 
 
 1059 21, 32 
 
 1081 27 
 
 1240 
 
 1248 
 
 1333 
 
 1549 
 
 1590 
 
 Oed. Tyr. 
 
 104.... 
 
 151-202 
 
 175.... 
 
 195... 
 
 374.... 
 
 474.... 
 
 716.... 
 
 733.... 
 
 923.... 
 
 987.... 
 1026.... 
 1086.... 
 1100.. . 
 1104.... 
 1227 . . . 
 1279.... 
 1315.... 
 1368.... 
 1398... 
 1427 . . . . 
 1451-4 . . 
 
 .. 25 
 
 . . 29 
 
 .. 28 
 
 .. 33 
 
 . . 30 
 
 . . 32 
 22 
 
 '.'. 22 
 
 . . 25 
 
 . . 30 
 
 . . 22 
 
 .. 33 
 
 . . 32 
 
 .. 32 
 .25, 45 
 
 .. 25 
 
 .. 25 
 
 .. 23 
 
 .. 22 
 
 .. 30 
 
 . . 33 
 
 Philoct. 
 
 Philoct. 
 
 16-21 20 
 
 180-190 .... 31 
 
 188 29 
 
 212 33 
 
 394 23 
 
 479 20 
 
 Trachin. 
 
 Fragm. 
 
 I'AGE. 
 
 488 20 
 
 548 22 
 
 664........ 20 
 
 690 33 
 
 725 20 
 
 936-940 .... 31 
 
 1081 31 
 
 1430 20 
 
 1452 31 
 
 14.->8 29 
 
 1464 31 
 
 94 30 
 
 104 28 
 
 111 25, 34 
 
 130 24 
 
 131 30 
 
 144 26 
 
 188 23 
 
 200 ,32 
 
 203 30 
 
 219 26 
 
 436 32 
 
 467 25 
 
 549 27 
 
 559 45 
 
 633-7 20 
 
 636 29 
 
 815 25 
 
 963 27 
 
 1000 , 27 
 
 1191 .33 
 
 1195 26 
 
 22 26 
 
 26 28 
 
 86 28 
 
 234 26 
 
 264 28 
 
 342 29 
 
 363 26 
 
 .366 28 
 
 413 27 
 
 435 28 
 
 449 (Ell.) . . 40 
 
 469 24 
 
 718 27 
 
 784 27 
 
 1025 33 
 
 1027 32 
 
80 
 
 EURIPIDES. 
 
 I'AGE. 
 
 Alcest. 68 67 
 
 91 43 
 
 115 37 
 
 245 70 
 
 261 67 
 
 450 68 
 
 560 37 
 
 569 51 
 
 593 74 
 
 1067 42 
 
 Androm. 116 42 
 
 167 74 
 
 215 37 
 
 284 35 
 
 296 64 
 
 319 64 
 
 327 42 
 
 349 , 43 
 
 406 54 
 
 441 50 
 
 533 42 
 
 773 36 
 
 848 61 
 
 861-5...... 61 
 
 1011 50 
 
 1045 36 
 
 1145 68 
 
 Bacch. 11 46 
 
 13 36 
 
 15 37 
 
 25 46 
 
 38 67 
 
 64-5 64 
 
 105 54 
 
 115 59 
 
 142 59 
 
 154 36, 64 
 
 218 65 
 
 233-6 76 
 
 306 9, 51 
 
 370 53 
 
 402 60 
 
 406.... 36, 37,44 
 
 410 64 
 
 438 41 
 
 453-9 76 
 
 556 65 
 
 560 37, 64 
 
 565 54 
 
 568 45 
 
 569 44 
 
 625 44 
 
 Bacch. 
 
 Cycl. 
 
 Elect. 
 
 H( 
 
 VAGE. 
 
 66f 64 
 
 677-775 .... 69 
 
 684 59 
 
 693 76 
 
 695-703 .... 65 
 
 698-711.... 59 
 
 726 59 
 
 749 36, 44 
 
 821-36 76 
 
 873-6 67 
 
 927-44 76 
 
 951 51 
 
 977 53, 67 
 
 992 54 
 
 1043-1152.... 69 
 
 1051 37 
 
 1061 67 
 
 1084 59 
 
 1093 67 
 
 1137 67 
 
 1384 65 
 
 16 41 
 
 27 68 
 
 41-62 62 
 
 50 68 
 
 213 65 
 
 294 36 
 
 516 68 
 
 563 76 
 
 601 53 
 
 54 58, 68 
 
 78-81 62 
 
 102 54 
 
 151 49 
 
 210 65 
 
 432 50 
 
 438 74 
 
 445 64 
 
 449 54 
 
 452 76 
 
 467 54, 65 
 
 520-3 41 
 
 585 58 
 
 704 51 
 
 726 58 
 
 730 54 
 
 740 67 
 
 866 58 
 
 80 44 
 
 81 67 
 
 151 41 
 
 Hec. 
 
 Helen. 
 
 Heracl. 
 
 PAGE.- 
 
 205 50 
 
 394 54 
 
 444 54 
 
 451 36,37 
 
 460 46 
 
 468 76 
 
 560 76 
 
 568 76 
 
 641 44 
 
 650 37,45 
 
 807 76 
 
 841 54 
 
 1067 57 
 
 1100 57, 61 
 
 1101 65 
 
 1110 53 
 
 1 44 
 
 124 44 
 
 162 44 
 
 179 41, 62 
 
 208 44, 45 
 
 250 44 
 
 262 76 
 
 342 51 
 
 348 57 
 
 349 45 
 
 368 44, 45 
 
 404 37 
 
 491 44 
 
 492 44 
 
 493 45 
 
 774 54 
 
 1096 .. 67 
 
 1107 55 
 
 1323-6 65 
 
 1366 68 
 
 1433 57 
 
 1455-1462.... 43 
 
 1456 53 
 
 1465 44 
 
 1477-89 60 
 
 1478-94 55 
 
 1487 62 
 
 1489 65 
 
 1498 65 
 
 1501 41 
 
 1530 43 
 
 1673 54 
 
 10 50 
 
 168 42 
 
 4-27 43 
 
 748 56 
 
81 
 
 EU RIVIBES— Continued. 
 
 PA«K. 
 
 Heracl. 781 67 
 
 855 41 
 
 Here. F. 134 76 
 
 348-450 .... 36 
 
 361 41 
 
 369 45 
 
 386 45 
 
 406 67 
 
 487 61 
 
 531 54 
 
 533 42 
 
 573 41 
 
 638 55, 65 
 
 650 61 
 
 667 66 
 
 673 76 
 
 781 56 
 
 797 54 
 
 833 53 
 
 851 68 
 
 861 64 
 
 922-1015... 69 
 
 1071 55 
 
 1087 43 
 
 1140 42 
 
 1148 61 
 
 1158 61 
 
 1178 60 
 
 1295 58 
 
 Hippol. 73.... 13, 46,70 
 
 77 74 
 
 121 63 
 
 127 74 
 
 144 tf 51 
 
 208 60 
 
 214 60 
 
 215 65 
 
 315 43 
 
 372 66 
 
 447 51 
 
 732-51 .... 62 
 
 737 44 
 
 750 36 
 
 822 43 
 
 836 61 
 
 849 67 
 
 1121 66 
 
 1126... 56 
 
 1137 46 
 
 1173-1254.... 69 
 
 1173 38 
 
 1198 37 
 
 1206 37 
 
 1210 67 
 
 I'ACiK. 
 
 Ion. 82 51 
 
 95 67 
 
 97 74 
 
 112 63 
 
 174 45 
 
 179 49 
 
 184-219.... 76 
 
 189 54 
 
 196 76 
 
 271 76 
 
 492 51 
 
 595 76 
 
 796 60 
 
 870 67 
 
 886 57 
 
 887 51, 67 
 
 919 57 
 
 927 43 
 
 966 43 
 
 1074 58 
 
 1083 44 
 
 1141 76 
 
 1147 66 
 
 1150 68 
 
 1152 65 
 
 1261 44, 45 
 
 1283 61 
 
 1439 54 
 
 1445 57 
 
 1466 54 
 
 Iph. Aul. 6 65, 68 
 
 9-20 56 
 
 120 68 
 
 141 68 
 
 179 44, 45 
 
 182 74 
 
 222-5 41 
 
 239-75 .... 76 
 
 420 37 
 
 573-83 .... 63 
 
 618 61 
 
 620 61 
 
 751 44, 45 
 
 1036 76 
 
 1054 68 
 
 1062 54 
 
 1284 65 
 
 1294 51 
 
 1502 54 
 
 Iph. Taur. 6 . . 68 
 
 10 43 
 
 110.. ..16, 54, 67 
 
 132 36 
 
 134....44, 45, 60 
 
 I'AGK. 
 
 Iph. Taur. 156-16(5 13 
 
 187 54 
 
 194 54,57 
 
 222 76 
 
 255 74 
 
 379 44 
 
 393 54 
 
 399 45 
 
 421-37 .... 50 
 
 422 54 
 
 452 61 
 
 814 76 
 
 889 37 
 
 1026 54 
 
 1089 49, 55 
 
 1097 9, 60 
 
 1099 46 
 
 1101 46 
 
 1125 51 
 
 1126 51 
 
 1134........ 43 
 
 1143 76 
 
 1148 76 
 
 1192 74 
 
 1207 58 
 
 1235 36 
 
 1240 38 
 
 1242 64 
 
 1245 41 
 
 1327-1420.... 69 
 
 1345 43 
 
 1390-1408.... 43 
 
 1398 ff 35 
 
 1487 54 
 
 Med. 106 42 
 
 362 43 
 
 824-46.. ..52, 70 
 835.... 37, 44,45 
 
 1200 54 
 
 1296 61 
 
 Orest. 126 53 
 
 174 68 
 
 211 53 
 
 243 54 
 
 279 .. 43 
 
 340 44 
 
 728 43 
 
 822 58 
 
 982-6 61 
 
 992 68 
 
 1005 65 
 
 1310 44, 45 
 
 1375 61 
 
 1377 50 
 
82 
 
 EVRlPmES-GoiUinued. 
 
 Orest. 
 
 Phoen. 
 
 Rhes. 
 
 
 I'AUE. 
 
 
 
 I'AOK. 
 
 
 I'AQE. 
 
 1383.... 
 
 ... 36 
 
 Rhes. 
 
 970. ., 
 
 ... 36 
 
 Troad. 884-8 . . . 
 
 ... 64 
 
 1386.... 
 
 ... 54 
 
 
 
 
 1866-70. 
 
 . . . 70 
 
 1682.... 
 
 . . . 53 
 
 Suppl. 
 
 76.... 
 
 ... 41 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 80 ... 
 
 ... 42 
 
 Fragm. 42 
 
 ... 54 
 
 1 .... 
 
 . .51, 57 
 
 
 222.... 
 
 ... 42 
 
 88 ... . 
 
 ..70,72 
 
 24.... 
 
 ... 46 
 
 
 269 ... 
 
 ... 43 
 
 104 
 
 74 
 
 84.... 
 
 . . 67 
 
 
 650.... 
 
 ... 67 
 
 114 .... 
 
 ..54, 67 
 
 102.. .. 
 
 ... 44 
 .. 61 
 
 
 757 ... . 
 
 824.... 
 
 ... 67 
 ... 43 
 
 118 .... 
 
 ... 53 
 
 163.... 
 
 222 
 
 ... 54 
 
 175.... 
 
 ... 67 
 
 
 961... 
 
 ... 42 
 
 229 
 
 ... 36 
 
 202-13 
 
 ... 43 
 
 
 990.... 
 
 ... .57 
 
 248 
 
 ... 54 
 
 202-39 
 
 ... 70 
 
 
 1150.. .. 
 
 ... 56 
 
 308 
 
 ... 72 
 
 234.... 
 
 ... 64 
 
 
 
 
 316 .... 
 
 ...9,70 
 
 504.... 
 
 ... 61 
 
 Troad. 
 
 1.. .. 
 
 ... 50 
 
 330 
 
 ... 42 
 
 530.,.. 
 
 ... 36 
 
 
 78 ... . 
 
 ... 43 
 
 415 
 
 ... 42 
 
 543 . . . . 
 
 ..42, 54 
 
 
 102.... 
 
 . .. 44 
 
 417 
 
 ... 44 
 
 644.... 
 
 ... 36 
 
 
 208.... 
 
 ... 35 
 
 441 
 
 ... 54 
 
 648 ... . 
 
 ... 36 
 
 
 210.... 
 
 .,. 44 
 
 453 
 
 ... 53 
 
 786 ... 
 
 ... 76 
 
 
 214.... 
 
 ... 44 
 
 555 
 
 ... 54 
 
 801 ... . 
 
 ... 65 
 
 
 216.... 
 
 ... 36 
 
 593 ... . 
 
 ..64, 68 
 
 809.... 
 
 ... 67 
 
 
 226 ... . 
 
 ..44, 45 
 
 594 
 
 ... 64 
 
 827 ... . 
 
 ..44,45 
 
 
 458.... 
 
 ... 54 
 
 618 
 
 ... 76 
 
 835 
 
 ...• 66 
 ... 43 
 
 
 543 
 
 68 
 
 696 ... . 
 755 
 
 51, 67 
 
 859.... 
 
 547-50 
 
 ... 68 
 
 ... 66 
 
 1515... 
 
 ... 56 
 
 
 669.... 
 
 ... 50 
 
 771 
 
 ... 67 
 
 1570.... 
 
 . . 56 
 
 
 686.... 
 
 .. 42 
 
 773 ... 
 
 ..55, 63 
 
 1605.... 
 
 ... 65 
 
 
 687.... 
 
 ... 76 
 
 779 
 
 ... 66 
 
 
 
 
 688-96 
 
 ... 43 
 
 781 
 
 ... 67 
 
 41.... 
 
 ... 68 
 
 
 696.... 
 
 ... 43 
 
 783 
 
 ... 61 
 
 289.... 
 
 ... 65 
 
 
 751.... 
 
 ... 50 
 
 836 
 
 ... 54 
 
 301-7 . . 
 
 ... 68 
 
 
 772.... 
 
 ... 38 
 
 929 
 
 ... 65 
 
 527-36 
 
 ... 66 
 
 
 799.... 
 
 ... 67 
 
 941.. .. 
 
 ... 64 
 
 546.. .. 
 
 ... 67 
 
 
 810.... 
 
 ... 37 
 
 1083 .... 
 
 ..36,44 
 
 737.... 
 
 ... 74 
 
 
 847 ... . 
 
 ..56, 68 
 
 
 
 921 ... . 
 
 ... 36 
 
 
 860 ... . 
 
 ..57, 67 
 
 
 
;5 
 
 lA-'