If Euripides, as Wedd maintains,[276] habitually contrasts the morality

of the legends with that of his own day, we can only say that here the

contrast is so obvious that it need not have been indicated at all. But

is such a contrast really indicated? Does the futile protest of the

Chorus represent the Athens of Euripides, and does the action of Aegeus

typify the Athens of a barbarous past? If not, how do we explain the

facts of the drama? In our view, it is Jason, not Medea, who is the

villain of this play. Medea had left her home, her kindred, everything

that life held dear, for the love of a Greek adventurer. Jason never

taunts Medea with the slaying of his father. He had commanded it.

Driven forth as an exile from the land of Thessaly, she clings to her

blood-stained mate. In Corinth he deserts her, and she is ordered to go

away—anywhere, somewhere, into the great unknown. To the distracted mind

of a desperate woman who sees herself deserted in a friendless world

comes then the image of a two-edged sword, begotten of slighted love

and sexual jealousy. Love rejected, love transferred, transforms Medea

from a faithful friend into a dangerous enemy. Her children, erstwhile

the sweetest pledges of affection, are now so many goads which stimulate

her vengeance. The conflict of passions which rages in Medea’s breast

is depicted by Euripides with matchless skill. It proclaims her at once

human and insane. Subjectively therefore she need only plead guilty to

extenuated homicide, to slaying in a passion; and if such a plea were

accepted she would be entitled in Greek law[277] to the sanctuary of

exile. Why then does she bind Aegeus by an oath? We suggest that the

explanation is to be found in the distinction between the objective or

legal aspect of an act and its subjective or psychological aspect. It

would have been difficult for Medea to have established her plea in any

court, formal or informal. Aegeus might not have given her the benefit

of the doubt, as Theseus did to Oedipus, and Medea could take no risks.

Furthermore, this legend has an archaic setting, and portrays a Greek

story of a period which was antecedent to the establishment of regular

State courts of justice and to codified international law. This explains

why Aegeus observed his oath. There was no authority of an international

religion to declare that it was not binding. Viewed in this light, the

protest of the Chorus in our last quotation is a confirmation of our

hypothesis. They actually approve of the slaying of Kreon and of his

daughter, though they regret that they should have suffered for Jason’s

infamy. They say[278]:

Heaven its collected store of evil seems

This day resolved with justice to pour down

On perjured Jason. Thy untimely fate

How do we pity, O thou wretched daughter

Of Kreon, who in Pluto’s mansions go’st

To celebrate thy nuptial feast.

When the Chorus urge Medea not to slay her children, we feel that they

are prompted by feelings of pity and humanity, rather than by any sense

of legal or religious guilt. In the following passage in which we see the

strongest and most emphatic instance of their disapproval of Medea’s act,

their main objection is that her act is unusual! Only one woman, they

say, has ever been known to do such a deed before![279]

Art thou a rock, O wretch, or steel to slay

With thine own hand that generous race of sons

Whom thou didst bear? I hitherto have heard

But of one woman who, in ancient days,

Smote her own children, Ino, by the gods

With frenzy stung....

But she, yet reeking with the impious gore

Of her own progeny, into the waves

Plunged headlong from the ocean’s craggy beach.

Can there be deeds more horrible than these

Left for succeeding ages to produce?

Thus, in this play we have no Euripidean contrast of barbarous with

civilised morality. Euripides favours Medea; so does the Chorus; so does

the plot. So strong is her passion, so conscious is she of her own moral

rectitude, so magnanimous is her soul, that, if Aegeus had not come,

she would have carried out her plans, and if Aegeus had not sworn, she

would have done the same. But with her blood-stained hands she would have

driven into her heart the sword which had just drained the life blood of

her children.

THE ‘HIPPOLYTUS’

The scene of the _Hippolytus_ is laid in Troizen, in S.E. Argolis, the

realm of Pittheus, the maternal grandfather of Theseus, King of Athens.

Thither Theseus has come, because, says Euripides, he was sentenced

to one year’s exile for the slaying of Pallas and his sons. Aphrodite

says[280]:

But from Cecropia’s realm since Theseus fled

To expiate his pollution, with the blood

Of Pallas’ sons distained, and with his queen

Sailed for this coast, to punishment of exile

Submitting for one year.

Now Pausanias informs us[281] that ‘justifiable homicide was the plea of

Theseus when he was acquitted for killing Pallas and his sons.’ We have

pointed out[282] that Pallas and his sons were slain in a civil war in

Attica. As they were technically rebels, and unjust aggressors, seeking

to dethrone Aegeus (the father of Theseus), who was the reigning monarch,

it was quite natural that from one point of view the act of Theseus

should have been morally regarded as justifiable homicide. It would not

have required a court of justice to have established the validity of

such a plea. Had not Eteocles been automatically ‘acquitted’ for the

slaying of Polyneices? But why does Euripides speak of a sentence of

one year’s exile? This penalty in relation to kin-slaying (Pallas was a

brother of Aegeus) can only have one meaning. Plato assures us[283] that

if a kinsman slays a kinsman in a passion, and if the deceased before he

expires shall have ‘forgiven’ him and absolved him from blood-guiltiness,

the deed shall be regarded as involuntary homicide for which the normal

penalty was one year’s exile. To explain this reference in Euripides,

therefore, Theseus must be conceived as guilty of extenuated kin-slaying

which was ‘forgiven.’ But we are nowhere told that the Pallantidae

forgave their slayer! We have said[284] that there was a legal affinity

between the conceptions of justifiable and of extenuated slaying. Yet

the two kinds of homicide were never identified, and it would be all the

more difficult to identify them when the deed concerned a King of Athens.

Hence we must suppose either (1) that Euripides has here abandoned the

tradition mentioned by Pausanias, or (2) that the legal aspect of the

slaying of the Pallantidae had become confused in the legends, before

Euripides, with the legal aspect of some other deed of blood with which

the name of Theseus was associated.

During the sojourn of Theseus at Troizen, where his son Hippolytus

was being brought up, Phaedra, the second wife of Theseus, sought to

seduce into adulterous intercourse her step-son, Hippolytus. Euripides

represents Hippolytus as an Orphic votary,[285] and we will condone the

anachronism[286] because it emphasises the probability of Hippolytus’

repudiation of Phaedra’s suggestions. Phaedra, in shame and anger,

committed suicide,[287] but in revenge for the puritan’s rejection of her

love, she left behind her a letter in which she accused Hippolytus of

forcible violation.[288] Such an accusation, followed by suicide, would

be sufficient to convict Hippolytus in either ancient or modern times.

It would have convicted him of attempting an ‘indecent assault,’ and of

attempted adultery. But would it have convicted him of having caused the

death of Phaedra? Theseus believed him guilty of all these crimes, and

decided to banish him from Troizen, pronouncing against him, in addition,

a virulent curse which, in the religious atmosphere of the ancient world,

was as dangerous to the life of Hippolytus as the σήματα λυγρά were which

were sent, in analogous circumstances, by Proitus to the King of Lydia,

in the legend of Bellerophon.[289] He says[290]:

O Neptune, O my sire,

Since thou hast firmly promised that thou thrice

Wouldst grant me what I prayed for, now fulfil

One vow, and slay my son, nor let him ’scape

This single day, if thou with me design

To ratify the compact thou hast made....

Moreover I will drive him from the land:

For of these twofold fates, or this or that

Must smite him: Neptune, when he hears my curses,

Will plunge the miscreant to the shades of hell;

Else, cast forth from this region, and ordained

To wander in some foreign land, a life

Of the profoundest misery shall he drag.

The crimes which Theseus attributes to Hippolytus are so many and so

various that it is impossible to connect this penalty of banishment with

the homicidal aspect of Phaedra’s death. The penalty is too severe, as

his action in causing Phaedra’s death could hardly have been regarded

even as manslaughter.

It is to be noted that Hippolytus was banished from Athens as well as

from Troizen.[291] After leaving Troizen, as he was travelling along

the coast, he was assailed by a sea-monster which was sent by Poseidon,

within sight of the Scironian rocks[292] (this point, we shall see,

is important for the correct analysis of the legend): the horses

took fright, and Hippolytus was dragged behind the chariot until he

was mortally injured. He was brought back to Theseus; and as Artemis

miraculously revealed to Theseus his innocence of the crime which had

been alleged against him, the father and the son became reconciled;

and, before he died, Hippolytus absolved his father from the guilt of

blood.[293] Thus the play ends.

We have said[294] that in early Greece, and even amongst the Achaean

caste, adultery was not punishable by death. Hence the curse of Theseus

renders him liable to blood-guilt. He ‘contrives’ death, he is αἴτιος

φόνου,[295] even if he does not actually slay Hippolytus. He confesses

his guilt in the closing scene. Now the ‘forgiveness’ of a dying

kinsman did not absolve the slayer from all punishment. He had still,

in historical Greece, to endure a penalty of one year’s exile from his

home-land. Is it not strange, therefore, that in this play Theseus

suffers no punishment for the death of Hippolytus? Troizen was reputed

to have been the birth-place of Theseus; Athens was the birth-place of

Hippolytus. Euripides remembers the latter fact when he represents the

exiled Hippolytus as debarred from Athens. But he forgets the former

fact when he makes Troizen a place of exile for Theseus! Pausanias

says[296] that Theseus went to Troizen to be purified for the slaying of

Pallas and his sons, and that at Troizen Phaedra accomplished the death

of Hippolytus. Moreover, Pausanias tells us[297] that over the royal

portico of the Athenian Prytaneum there was an earthenware statue which

represented Theseus in the act of hurling into the sea a certain brigand

named Sciron. For Euripides, Sciron is the name of a sea boulder in the

Saronic gulf. But Plutarch assures[298] us that Sciron was a kinsman of

Theseus, that Theseus slew him, and that as an atonement he instituted

the sacred Isthmian games!

It seems obvious that Euripides has either adopted an eclectic attitude

to these various legends of Theseus, or that they had become ‘fused’

before his time. But he is not concerned with legal accuracy or

consistency, so much as with the construction of an intelligible plot

of intense human interest. To Euripides it must have appeared improbable

that the temporary sojourn of Theseus at Troizen was connected, as

Pausanias alleges, with purgation rites, since these rites would normally

have been performed at Athens. Moreover, the brief period of time

which such rites would have necessitated does not afford a sufficient

explanation of his ‘exile’ for the space of one year. Again, it was

absolutely necessary to suppose that Theseus returned to Athens. But, for

this, it was necessary to assume that he was ‘forgiven’ by Hippolytus

whom he, directly and immediately, and Phaedra indirectly,[299] caused to

be killed. But we have not yet discovered the secret of that one year’s

sojourn at Troizen. We believe that it is in the legend of Sciron, which

Euripides ignores, that we must seek the real origin of the tradition

concerning a ‘forgiveness’ and a period of one year’s exile, in the life

of Theseus. We have already[300] pointed out how closely these two ideas

may be correlated. We suggest that the real legends of Theseus presented

some such facts as the following:

1. Theseus slew Pallas and his sons, was acquitted by the Delphinium

court,[301] and was purged at Athens.

2. Phaedra, not Theseus, caused the death of Hippolytus.[302]

3. Theseus slew a kinsman,[303] named Sciron, in Attica, but Sciron,

before dying, forgave his slayer. Theseus therefore went into exile for

one year—not to Troizen—but to the Isthmus where he instituted a sacred

festival. He could not have gone into exile to Troizen, for this realm

belonged to him (since he was the grandson of Pittheus[304]), and in

Euripides he claims the right to banish Hippolytus from Troizen.[305] He

was certainly a citizen of Troizen since in legend he was born there.

We must suppose, therefore, according to this hypothesis, either that

Euripides selected different elements from these legends and joined

them together, or that they had been confused in some one legend before

his time. In this fusion the forgiveness was shifted from Sciron to

Hippolytus. Theseus was conceived as the cause of Hippolytus’ death;

Sciron was ignored and the slaying of Pallas was regarded as extenuated

but not as justifiable homicide.

THE ‘ION’

The most important incident in the _Ion_ is the attempted murder

(βούλευσις) of Ion, the eponymous ancestor of the Ionians, by his mother

Creusa, who does not know that he is her son. Thus we meet once more

a homicide problem forming the basis of a drama, and a solution of

that problem which requires for its intelligibility the application of

homicide-law. Euripides is deliberately pandering to Athenian national

pride when he represents Ion, by repute the son of Xuthus, as really

the son of Apollo and Creusa.[306] In the temple of Delphi he is reared

as a minister of the god. Creusa has almost forgotten the issue of her

ancient amour, and by a tragic irony comes with Xuthus to Delphi, to

consult Apollo as to the causes of her childlessness. Apollo informs

Xuthus that he will give him a son and heir, and Xuthus is led to believe

that his newly found ‘son,’ Ion, is the offspring of some intrigue of

his youth. When Creusa hears about this ‘stranger,’ she regards him with

hostile feelings, and decides to kill him by poison. In this design,

however, she does not succeed. Have we here, then, a ‘plot to kill’ or

attempted murder? The legal essence of the former, we have seen,[307] is

the realisation of the plot. Therefore, the guilt of Creusa is that of

attempted murder or βούλευσις. No one except Apollo is supposed to be

aware until the end of the play of the real relationship which exists

between Ion and Creusa. Hence, we have here a suggestion of an act which,

like that of Oedipus, is objectively related to kin-slaying, but which,

subjectively, must be regarded as ordinary ‘attempted murder.’ We have

seen[308] that in early Greece attempts to kill and actual slayings were

accorded equal punishment. But we find in the _Ion_ that Creusa is not

punished at all! The explanation of this problem is the main object of

our present inquiry.

When the attempted murder of a minister of Apollo is discovered and

reported, the whole civic machinery of the Delphian State is put in

motion.[309] A court is held at which Ion is the accuser. He charges his

mother with attempted murder, but there is a subtle suggestion of the

additional guilt of attempted sacrilege. This court of Delphian nobles

condemns Creusa to death. Creusa’s servant says[310]:

Delphi’s rulers have decreed

My queen shall be thrown headlong from the rock,

Nor hath one single voice, but the consent

Of all, adjudged her death, because she strove

E’en in the temple to have slain the priest.

Pursued by the whole city, hither bend

Her inauspicious steps. She through a wish

For children to Apollo came: but now

She perishes with all her hoped-for race.

The Chorus recommend Creusa to take refuge in a sanctuary.[311] She

answers that sanctuary is valueless as a refuge against the sentence of

death. The Chorus comfort her with the assurance that while she remains

in the sanctuary she cannot be slain.[312] But Ion, who by a tragic irony

leads the executioners, leaves no doubt that her refuge will not avail

her. He says[313]:

Behold

The sorceress, what a complicated scene

Of treachery hath she framed, yet trembles not

The altar of Apollo to approach.

As if Heaven’s vengeance could not reach her crimes.

But neither shall this altar nor the temple

Of Phoebus save thy life.

Creusa in the ensuing dialogue advances a plea of justification. She

argues that if Ion came to Athens, sooner or later he would have slain

her through dynastic rivalry:

I sought

To take away the life of you, a foe

To me and to my house....[314]

Lest I should perish if your life was spared.[315]

But this was also the plea of Eurystheus when he sought the lives of the

Heracleidae. In Greek law the plea has no validity. Ion commands his

mother to leave the altar,[316] saying

Shalt thou ’scape unpunished

For thy attempt to slay me?[317]

At this critical moment the Pythian priestess intervenes, and requests

Ion to desist. She holds that the attempt of Creusa was mitigated by

‘passion’—and that therefore she did not deserve to die. She says[318]:

Wives with inveterate hatred ever view

Their husbands’ sons sprung from another bed.

Thus does Apollo override the verdict of his priests! But he goes

farther. Creusa, according to the oracular interpretation of her act, was

guilty of an ‘extenuated’ attempt to kill, and should therefore in strict

law[319] have been punished by a penalty of temporary exile. Yet she

is permitted to return forthwith to Athens, her native country! In the

following verses Ion is urged to ‘forgive’:

Banish from thy soul

This rancour, now the temple thou art leaving,

And on thy journey to thy native land.[320]

But we have not yet rendered the _dénouement_ legally intelligible.

We think that it can only be explained by one hypothesis, namely, by

assuming that Apollo takes upon himself the responsibility for Creusa’s

act. It was he who, by concealing the true facts, had provoked Creusa

to attempted murder. It was he, therefore, who must take the blame.

We have seen that there is no doubt that otherwise Creusa would have

suffered death. That penalty is an archaic one, being based, as we

think, on the notion of the absence of discrimination in early Greece

between degrees of homicide-guilt. In the more subtle analysis of Apollo

we may see perhaps a suggestion of Euripides as to the evolution of

such distinctions, which characterised the historical period. But it is

possible that such distinctions existed in Pelasgian groups, though not

in Achaean or quasi-Achaean societies. If there is anything legally

improbable in this legend, it is obscured by the dramatic interest

which attaches to the recognition scene between the mother and the

son. Moreover Euripides and therefore the legend which he follows were

compelled to indicate the important fact that Creusa _did_ return with

Ion to Athens, and that the glorious mother of the Ionian race had not

been stained by the guilt of kindred bloodshed.

THE ‘ANDROMACHE’

In the _Andromache_ there are two events of a homicidal character which

we must discuss: (1) the attempted murder of Andromache, who was then a

war-captive in the home of Neoptolemus, and that of her son, by Hermione,

the wife of Neoptolemus, and by her father Menelaus: (2) the slaying of

Neoptolemus, at Delphi, by the Apolline priests and magistrates on a

false charge of sacrilege which was urged against him by Orestes. The

first event is clearly a case of attempted murder, because the plot

failed to materialise owing to the arrival of Peleus. The second event

is more difficult to define. Objectively, it points to the execution

of a normal penalty for an alleged sacrilegious attempt to despoil

the temple and for a previous actual spoliation: but, subjectively,

Orestes was guilty of contriving the death of Neoptolemus, and he

advances, in private, a sham plea of justification, when he says that

he regards Neoptolemus, who had married Hermione, his own fiancée, as

a virtual adulterer.[321] From the words which are addressed by Thetis

to Peleus at the end of the play,[322] we may infer that the plot of

Orestes was viewed with disapproval by the gods. But, legally, he must

escape punishment because the actual slayers could plead sufficient

justification, and his private motives were not publicly proclaimed. Let

us give some details of both episodes. Hermione, when her attempt to kill

is discovered and frustrated, meditates suicide, because, we are told,

she fears that her husband will slay her or send her into exile. Thus, a

nurse in Hermione’s service says[323]:

Within these doors

Hermione, my mistress, by her sire

Forsaken, and grown conscious of the guilt

She hath incurred by that attempt to murder

Andromache and her unhappy son,

Resolves to die, because she dreads lest, fired

With indignation at her guilt, her lord

Should cast her forth with scorn, or take away

Her life because she purposed to have slain

The innocent. The servants who attend

Can hardly by their vigilance prevent her

From fixing round her neck the deadly noose

Or snatch the dagger from her hand, so great

Is her affliction, and she now confesses

That she has done amiss.

In this passage death appears as the archaic penalty for attempted

murder. If Neoptolemus, the husband of Hermione, permits an option of

exile, it is perhaps because such an option was permitted for actual

murder in historical times, and the penalties were supposed to have been

identical, in cases of attempted and of actual murder, in prehistoric

days. It is also possible to explain the option by reference to the fact

that Andromache was a captive and that therefore her master had the

right to forgo the full penalty. We have seen[324] that the Achaeans

did not discriminate between voluntary and involuntary homicide, and we

may regard the reference to this penalty here as a case of historical

archaising, which attributed to the Achaean Neoptolemus an ignorance of

the distinction between attempted murder and actual murder. But we may

also suppose that there was a legend which originally contained all these

details and retained them as an unadulterated tradition down the ages. In

historical times attempted slaying could not have been punished by a more

severe penalty than that of exile, the duration of which depended perhaps

on some form of ‘appeasement.’ That such was the historical penalty may

be inferred from the fact that the Palladium court tried such cases in

the time of Aristotle and, we think, from Solon’s time onwards.[325] When

the ‘attempt’ (βούλευσις) resulted in actual wounding or in physical

injury, as in cases of attempted poisoning, the case was probably[326]

tried by the Areopagus, and the sentence was perpetual exile without

confiscation of property.[327] In this play, however, as in the _Ion_,

the attempted murder of Andromache was unpunished; Neoptolemus, the

natural punitive agent, did not live to hear of the attempt. Andromache

herself warned Menelaus that the people of the district would put him and

Hermione on trial and punish them. She says[328]:

O Menelaus, be it now supposed

I by thy daughter am already slain.

’Twill be impossible for her to ’scape

From the pollution ruthless murder brings;

Thou, too, by many tongues wilt be accused[329]

Of this vile deed, with her will they confound

Thee, the abettor.

Do we not seem to have here a legend which evolved? First of all we have

private vengeance. Everything depends on Neoptolemus. Then pollution

enters the story and the people have a religious interest in homicide.

Yet the main fact could not be got rid of, namely that Hermione

escaped punishment. If Euripides is archaising, could he not have been

consistent? Or is he thinking of that vaguely defined post-Homeric age

in which the conception of murder as a pollution existed, but in which

homicide is still, as amongst the Hebrews, a matter for the avenger of

blood? But why, then, does he mention the people? Is he thinking of the

pressure of public opinion, such as was already gathering in Achaean

times? Andromache seems to take a different view from that of Hermione.

The issue of the plot confirms Hermione’s outlook, which is Achaean. Is

it not more natural to suppose that an Achaean story became partially

‘Apollinised’ in later times than to suppose that Euripides gives us two

different archaisms side by side?

Andromache’s attack on Spartan homicide becomes intelligible if we

remember the anti-Spartan sentiments of the democrat Euripides. ‘Is

not murder abundant at Sparta?’ asks Andromache.[330] When, we ask,

was it abundant? Is this statement merely a retort to Hermione’s

assertion that murder was common in barbarian Troy?[331] Or is Euripides

deliberately asserting that Sparta was inferior even to barbarians?

According to the latter hypothesis we must assume that he is speaking of

historical Sparta, and his opinions are to be attributed to anti-Spartan

prejudice.[332]

In the second homicide episode of this drama, Neoptolemus is slain at

Delphi. Orestes who plots and in part executes his death escapes all

punishment, for reasons which we have already indicated. The Delphians

who are prepared, in the _Ion_, to condemn to death a person guilty of

attempted murder, are here themselves engaged in slaying a visitor to

their temple. But Neoptolemus was an enemy. He has already despoiled

the temple. His life is therefore forfeit. To slay him was, like the

projected execution of Creusa, a just revenge. Yet Fate has dealt harshly

with Neoptolemus. He now visits the temple not to despoil it, as Orestes

falsely alleges, but to make atonement for a previous offence which he

had committed against Apollo.[333] Despite the false evidence of Orestes,

Apollo, the prophet who knows all things, should have intervened. Thus

the messenger utters a criticism which suggests the sentiments of

Euripides and of fifth-century Athens[334]:

Thus Phoebus,

Who prophesies to others, mighty King,

And deals out justice to the admiring world,

Hath on Achilles’ son revenged himself,

And like some worthless human foe, revived

An ancient grudge: how then can he be wise?

Thetis declares that the death of Neoptolemus is a disgrace to the

Delphians and, is for Orestes, a murderous crime.[335] Though slain

on grounds of sacrilege, Neoptolemus is buried near the shrine of

Phoebus![336] The existence of such a tomb at Delphi would naturally have

begotten the story of his death there: the fact that Hermione was, in

one legend, the wife of Orestes, in another the wife of Neoptolemus, and

the close connexion of Orestes with Delphi in post-Homeric story, may

explain his association with the death of Neoptolemus. But the murderous

plot which is here attributed to Orestes we believe to be Euripidean. It

has no proper sequel: it does not harmonise with anything antecedent or

subsequent: it is just a novel, thrilling episode introduced by Euripides

to give an artistic interest to an otherwise dull and lifeless drama.

THE ‘HECUBA’

A deed of blood and its avenging forms the subject of the _Hecuba_.

The scene is laid at Troy and the atmosphere is predominantly Homeric.

Polymestor, King of Thrace, having consented to act as the guardian and

protector of Polydorus, the son of Priam, King of Troy, murdered his

ward and cast his body unburied on the sea-shore. The mode of vengeance

which is put in force against Polymestor is peculiarly archaic. The

avengers are exclusively women, and are led by Hecuba, the mother of

Polydorus. The punishment which is exacted is not the death or the exile

of Polymestor, but the death of his two sons, and the destruction of his

eyes. Here we have an instance of physical torture such as was prohibited

by a law of Dracon[337] in the case of a convicted murderer caught _en

rupture de ban_. We have also an instance of hereditary punishment

which Greek law had abolished for homicide in the seventh century, and

had retained for treason alone in the historical era,[338] in the form

of a civic degradation of the traitor’s posterity. Polymestor has no

consciousness of guilt after the slaying of Polydorus, as he regards his

act as justified in political self-defence, and therefore he proceeds to

avenge himself on Hecuba and the Trojan women whom he now regards as the

murderers of his children. At this stage Agamemnon is requested by Hecuba

to act as an arbitrator.[339] In his presence Polymestor says[340]:

But hear my motives for the deed, to prove

How justly and how prudently I acted:

Your enemy, that boy, if he survived

The ruin of his country, might, I feared,

Collect the scattered citizens of Troy,

And there again reside. I also feared

That when the Greeks knew one of Priam’s line

Was living, with a second fleet invading

The shores of Phrygia, they again might drain

Of their inhabitants the Thracian fields,

Involving us, their neighbours, in the vengeance

They on their foes at Ilion wreak. To us

Already hath such neighbourhood, O King,

Proved baneful.

The Chorus, however, imply that Polymestor has been justly punished[341]:

Hapless man,

How art thou visited by woes too grievous

To be endured: but by dread Jove, thy foe,

On him whose deeds are base, it is ordained

That the severest punishments await.

This passage suggests that the poet is reproducing an archaic atmosphere.

Now the Achaeans, we have seen,[342] ordinarily held no trials for

homicide. The pleadings before Agamemnon, which we find here, do not,

strictly speaking, constitute such a trial. We have seen[343] that the

Achaeans recognised a distinction between murder and just revenge.

Athene upholds that distinction in the _Odyssey_. Agamemnon upholds

that distinction here. He decides in favour of Hecuba, saying to

Polymestor[344]:

Know, then, to me thou seem’st not to have slain

Thy guest through an attachment to my cause,

Nor yet to that of Greece, but that his gold

Thou might’st retain: though in this wretched state

Thou speak to serve thy interests. Among you

Perhaps the murder of your guests seems light;

We Greeks esteem it base. If I acquit thee,

How shall I ’scape reproach? Indeed, I cannot:

Since thou hast dared to perpetrate the crime,

Endure the consequence.

The acceptance by Polymestor of Agamemnon’s decision suggests to us

the potency of Achaean military discipline in matters of homicide. Was

this acceptance indicated in an ancient legend, which was preserved in

Thrace, and which was transmitted without adulteration, or is Euripides

correctly archaising from his general knowledge of Achaean procedure as

revealed by Homer? The former alternative seems to us the more probable

in view of the consistently archaic atmosphere of this play. There is no

reference to homicide as a ‘pollution,’ to purgation, to Apollo, to State

trial. A certain degree of divine anger against Polymestor is indicated,

but this was caused by the violation of hospitality and by the act of

deprivation of burial, both of which acts are religious offences in

Homer. Hecuba says to the Chorus[345]:

O, ’twas a deed

Unutterable, a deed without a name,

Surpassing all astonishment, unholy,

And not to be endured. Where now the laws

Of hospitality? Accurséd man,

How cruelly hast thou with reeking sword

Transpierced this unresisting boy, nor heard

The gentle voice of pity!

Again she says to Agamemnon[346]:

Avenge

My wrongs upon the man who ’gainst his guest

Such treachery could commit, who, nor the gods

Of Erebus beneath, nor those who rule

In Heaven above regarding, this vile deed

Did perpetrate, e’en he with whom I oft

Partook the feast, on whom I showered each bounty,

Esteeming him the first of all my friends:

Yet, when at Ilion’s palace with respect

He had been treated, a deliberate scheme

Of murder forming, he destroyed my son,

On whom he deigned not to bestow a tomb,

But threw his corse into the briny deep.

In the scepticism of Talthybius regarding the existence of the gods, we

have an anachronism which is strictly applicable only to the rationalists

of fifth-century Athens. The comparative indifference of the Achaeans

to religion left the road open for this anachronism on the part of

Euripides.

When the son of Achilles is sacrificing Polyxena at the tomb of Achilles,

he says to the spirit of Achilles[347]:

Son of Peleus,

My father, the propitiatory drops

Of these libations which invite the dead

Accept. O come and quaff the crimson blood

Of this pure virgin whom to thee all Greece

And I devote.

For this placation of the dead by human sacrifice we have perhaps a

precedent in the sacrifice by Achilles of twelve Trojan youths to the

shade of Patroclus. But the suggestion that the dead man came to the

tomb to drink the blood offering indicates a fusion of Pelasgian and

Achaean beliefs such as Ridgeway assumes to have taken place before

the time of Aeschylus.[348] Already in the _Odyssey_, however, there

is evidence of the tendency to a fusion of ritual and beliefs, which

reached maturity before the historical period.[348] Such words as

Euripides here attributes to Achilles could never have been spoken by

the Homeric Achilles. For the Achaeans, the dead, once they were buried,

could never leave Hades, and they did not, like Pelasgian ghosts, drink

blood offerings at the tomb. This, then, is an anachronism, which was

perhaps derived from a misinterpretation by Euripides of the Nekuia

in the _Odyssey_. Hecuba naturally objects to the sacrifice of her

daughter,[349] but incidentally she objects to human sacrifice in

general, save in the case of a real enemy. Polyxena, she argues, was not

an enemy to Achilles. His ghost therefore could not be placated by her

sacrifice. This attitude of Hecuba suggests that a post-Homeric Thracian

legend contained a reference to a barbarous blood-thirst on the part

of the dead, which we have attributed to the Hesiodic age of chaos.

Euripides elsewhere attributes the sacrifice of Polyxena to the expressed

desire of the ghost of Achilles![350] We cannot be certain whether a

post-Homeric legend embodied these conceptions, or whether Euripides

invented them in his desire to add to the horrors of the story another

grim idea.

THE ‘BACCHAE’

On the first introduction, into Thebes, of the worship of Bacchus, or of

what may be termed the orgiastic cult of Dionysus, Pentheus, the reigning

King, opposed the new religion, declared Bacchus an impostor,[351] and

threatened him with death.[352] Hence the chorus of Bacchanals, inspired

with prophetic foresight, approve in advance the death of Pentheus whom

they regard as an enemy or a traitor.[353] By a tragic irony, Agave,

the mother of Pentheus, who has joined the Bacchic worshippers and is

mesmerised by Bacchic influence, is the actual perpetrator of the death

of Pentheus. She is deluded by Bacchic frenzy into believing that she is

slaying a lion, and returns to Thebes carrying what she believes to be a

lion’s head. She says[354]:

Ye that within the high-towered Theban city

Dwell, come and gaze ye all upon our prey,

The mighty beast by Cadmus’ daughter ta’en;

Nor with Thessalian sharp-pointed javelins,

Nor nets, but with the white and delicate palms

Of our own hands. Go ye and make your boast,

Trusting to the spear-maker’s useless craft:

We with these hands have ta’en our prey, and rent

The mangled limbs of this grim beast asunder.

Where is mine aged sire? Let him draw near!

And where is my son Pentheus? Let him mount

On the broad stairs that rise before our house;

And on the triglyph nail this lion’s head

That I have brought him from our splendid chase.

Her position, then, differs from that of Ajax,[355] in that the deed

really takes place and that she did not intend it. The act is, we shall

find, analogous to, but less culpable than, that of Oedipus when he slew

his father.

Cadmus, father of Agave, refers the ultimate guilt to Bacchus[356]:

Justly—too justly hath King Bromius

Destroyed us, fatal kindred to our house.

Agave adopts a similar attitude when she realises the nature of the deed

which she has wrought.[357] But she cannot escape all punishment. At the

end of the play Dionysus propounds an oracle of Zeus which declares[358]

that Cadmus shall become a dragon, and his wife Harmonia shall become a

serpent, but that they will nevertheless conquer many barbarian cities

and will be borne ultimately to the land of the blessed gods. Yet they

must leave Thebes now because of their impious attitude to Dionysus! Is

this decree an instance of ‘collective’ punishment? Is it necessary that

the entire family of Cadmus should suffer for the impiety of Pentheus

which he has already atoned for by an ignominious death? It may be an

explanation of this obscure punishment to say that it is collective.

But what shall we say of Agave? She also has to leave Thebes. Is her

exile to be regarded as a penalty for ‘impiety’ in regard to Dionysus?

Surely she has already been sufficiently pious and to her cost! She

was actually one of the Bacchic worshippers, in the play. Moreover, in

going into exile she bids farewell to her father![359] They are all sent

into exile together, yet she cannot go with her father.[360] Surely, if

impiety were the offence, and the penalty were collective exile, all the

offenders could have gone in conjunction. Why is Agave exiled, then,

if she is condemned to separate exile? We suggest that this penalty is

inflicted because of kin-slaying in religious frenzy, that is to say, in

legal language, ‘in a passion.’ Plato assures us[361] that kin-slaying

extenuated by passion prohibited the slayer from any further intercourse

with her family. ‘If a father or mother in a passion kill their son or

daughter by blows or in any other violent manner ... let them remain in

exile for three years and on returning let the husband be divorced from

the wife and the wife from the husband, and let them never afterwards

beget children together nor dwell in fellowship with those whom they have

deprived of child or brother, or have a share in their sacred rites.’ But

Agave goes into exile with her sisters Autonoe and Ino, who had shared in

the death of Pentheus. They too are separated from Cadmus. The reason is

perhaps that Cadmus symbolises the domestic religion of their home. From

him, as from their home, they must be exiled for ever.

THE ‘ALCESTIS’

Neither the _Alcestis_ nor the other two plays of Euripides which remain

for discussion are of very much importance from the point of view of

homicide-law. In the prologue[362] Apollo tells how he slew the Cyclops

who forged the thunder-bolt by which Zeus slew Aesculapius, Apollo’s

son, and how in consequence he went into bondage with Admetus of Pherae

for a period of one year. Thus Zeus plots the death of his grandson and

punishes his son for avenging it! The reason is that Zeus regards the

death of Aesculapius as justified, and therefore, as Apollo’s vengeance

is unjust, he must be punished. The penalty of bondage which is here

referred to may be the Pelasgian servitude which we have discussed in an

early part of this work,[363] or it may be a form of that same penalty

which was retained under the pollution-system, in pre-Draconian days when

it was indispensably connected with exile. There is here, however, no

reference to pollution or to purgation. Apollo was purified for slaying

the Python[364] but not for the slaying of the Cyclops! We cannot apply

to the Olympian Apollo the laws which were made for mortal men. Apollo,

unlike Hercules, could not be conceived as a man. It was from Olympus,

the abode of the Olympian gods, that he was banished. The obvious motive

for the legend is the association of Apollo with Admetus. Some reason had

to be assigned for this ‘exile’ of Apollo. We may suppose that a deed

of homicide was invented to explain this ‘exile,’ but that its details

were not worked out. The only real importance of such a legend is that it

affords a certain amount of evidence for the existence of servitude as a

homicide-penalty in early Greece.

Admetus is permitted by the Fates to live if he can find a substitute.

His wife Alcestis voluntarily dies in his stead. Was her death

attributable to Admetus? Was he her murderer? His father, Pheres, seems

to think so![365]

I go: thou shalt entomb her, as thyself

Her murderer. Look for vengeance from her friends.

Acastus is no man if his hands fail

Dearly t’avenge on thee his sister’s blood.

As Hercules, in this play, raises to life the dead Alcestis, we are freed

from the necessity of discussing the legal aspects of such a problem.

The whole plot of this play belongs to the supernatural rather than to

the natural order. The murder laws of Greece made no provision for such

contingencies.

THE ‘TROADES’

In the _Troades_ Cassandra foresees the murder of Agamemnon and the

vengeance of Orestes, and connects these tragic misfortunes with the woes

which were brought by the Atreidae upon the house of Priam. Aeschylus

has a suggestion of this sentiment in the _Agamemnon_.[366] To represent

Clytaemnestra and Orestes as mere instruments in the hands of Destiny may

be religiously orthodox to a superstitious people, especially in the Dark

Ages of prehistoric Greece, but it has no legal validity. Such sentiments

are really antagonistic to legal sanctions. Applied to Achaeans, they

are, we think, anachronistic. Murder is distinct from war, and murder

is not conceived as begetting murder, in the course of Destiny, until

post-Homeric times. In the decision of the Greeks to slay Astyanax, the

son of Andromache, as a reprisal for the adultery of Paris,[367] we

see an instance of hyper-vengeance, which is characteristic of hostile

belligerents. We cannot infer that amongst the Achaeans the punishment

for adultery was more severe than amongst the Pelasgians.[368] Astyanax

was not an adulterer! His punishment was a reprisal, and has therefore

no legal significance. Talthybius refers to a strange proposal on the

part of the Greeks, namely a proposal to set up a spear in the tomb of

Astyanax.[369] Now this spear is a symbol of future vengeance. It is

strange that such a symbol should have been set up by the party who

deserve and anticipate punishment. Moreover, we have seen[370] that this

custom was probably post-Homeric. The Achaeans did not credit their dead

spirits, after burial, with any local habitation in the tomb or with

any effective desire for vengeance. Here, the suggestion is clearly

intended by Talthybius, and possibly by Euripides, to bring some slight

comfort to Hecuba, the bereaved mother. We have referred to a passage

in Demosthenes,[371] in which a plaintiff, who was debarred from a

prosecution for bloodshed, because of his not having been akin in blood

to the deceased, was advised by the Exegetae to carry a spear at the

funeral. It was therefore rather a cruel piece of irony for Euripides

to suggest that by the setting up of this symbol—which had come, in

historical times, to indicate the absence of avengers—the Greeks intended

to express at once to Hecuba the hope of retaliation and to themselves

the hope of immunity from vengeance.

THE ‘HELEN’

The scene of the _Helen_ is laid in Egypt. We are told that the

ubiquitous Helen escapes with Menelaus from Egypt, having deceived by

a stratagem her amorous protector, Theoclymenus. She was aided in her

plans by Theonoe, the sister of Theoclymenus, and he, therefore, in

the anger of disappointed passion, proceeded to slay his sister. The

Dioscuri intervened in time to prevent the realisation of his purpose,

and all ends happily! Technically, Theoclymenus is guilty of attempted

kin-slaying, but the poet leads us to suppose that an ungovernable fit of

passion would, in such a case, be regarded as a complete extenuation. We

may infer from the words of the Chorus that the slaying of one’s kindred

was regarded with horror by races which were outside Greece. The Chorus

will not permit the death of Theonoe, even though they intervene at their

peril. They say to Theoclymenus[372]:

Kill me. Your sister you with my consent

Shall never slay: I rather would yield up

My life on her behalf. It is most glorious

To generous servants for their lords to die.

Euripides also makes the barbarian Thoas, King of the Tauric Chersonese,

gasp with horror when Iphigeneia, the priestess of Artemis, informs him

of the arrival of the matricide Orestes. When Iphigeneia says[373]:

They came polluted with domestic blood,

he answers[374]:

O Phoebus! This hath no barbarian dared.

Euripides, then, did not believe that the conception of kin-slaying as

a horrible and revolting act was an exclusively Grecian sentiment. When

therefore in the _Andromache_ he makes Hermione say[375]:

Such is the whole abhorred barbarian race:

The father with his daughter, the vile son

With his own mother, with her brother too

The sister sins; friends by their dearest friends

Are murdered: deeds like these no wholesome law

Prohibits: introduce not among us

Such crimes....

we may attribute such an assertion to a mind inflamed with the jealousy

which a wife feels towards a concubine rather than suppose Euripides not

to have known that the horror of kin-slaying is an aboriginal universal

sentiment of the human race when once it has abandoned the cave of the

cannibal.

* * * * *

We have now concluded our inquiry into the problem of blood-vengeance

in Attic tragedy. Nothing has been revealed by this inquiry which is

in conflict with the hypotheses which we have sought to establish in

this work, as to the various systems of blood-vengeance which existed

in Greece, from Pelasgian times to the age of the orators. While Attic

tragedy does not in itself contribute anything to our knowledge of these

various systems, there can be little doubt that an attempt, however

imperfect, to investigate the origin and nature of these systems is

indispensable for a proper appreciation of these dramatic masterpieces.

If our analysis of blood-vengeance in the works of the three great Attic

tragedians has not, in many cases, succeeded in establishing definite

clear-cut conclusions, this, we hope, will be attributed to the intrinsic

difficulty and obscurity of the subject. We can never be quite certain

whether any particular drama gives us (_a_) an antique unadulterated

legend; or (_b_) an antique legend which in course of evolution has taken

on new forms without any regard to the consistency or the historicity of

the tradition; or (_c_) whether the drama is based upon a late invention

which owing to skilful archaising takes on the garb and appearance of an

antique story, betraying perhaps, here and there, by its anachronisms,

the mind and atmosphere of its creator. It so happens that the attitude

to homicide or to religion which the Achaeans reveal was also taken up

by many individual Athenians of the Periclean age. Thus the indifference

to the gods which Sophocles attributes to Ajax was common to Achaeans

and to many Periclean Athenians. So the conception of homicide as a

matter for ‘private settlement’ which is found in Demosthenes, and the

survival, in outlying places, such as Macedonia, of family vendettas,

fierce and lawless, would have suggested to the mind of the dramatist

that there was no very wide gulf between the primitive and the historical

Greeks. Such a fact almost invites anachronisms. Nevertheless, we

frequently find in dramatic legends an atmosphere so antique, so unlike

that of fifth-century Athens, that we may assume, as the most probable

hypothesis, that these legends are not inventions, but have behind them a

long and, often, a chequered past.

FOOTNOTES

[1] _Hist. Gk. Lit._ p. 224.

[2] _Ib._ p. 225.

[3] _Ib._ 228.

[4] P. 229.

[5] See _Euripides the Rationalist_ (_passim_) and Introduction to

Aeschylus, _Choephoroe_, p. xxxvii ff.

[6] Eur. _Orestes_, 1370.

[7] _A.P._ 119.

[8] See _A.P._ 131-5.

[9] See _Themis_, 341 ff.

[10] _A.P._ 129.

[11] _Poetics_, 25.

[12] See Wedd, Introd. to _Orestes_, p. xvii ff.

[13] 15 ff.

[14] _Od._ iii. 307.

[15] _Electra_, 1254 ff.; _Orestes_, 1648 ff.

[16] 29-30.

[17] 1093-6.

[18] See _supra_, p. 308.

[19] _Supra_, p. 58 ff.

[20] 500 ff.; _infra_, p. 348.

[21] _Supra_, Book I.

[22] _Infra_, p. 348 ff.

[23] 957-8.

[24] 895 ff.

[25] _Od._ iii. 310.

[26] 1277.

[27] _Cf._ Soph. _Electra_, 1483.

[28] _Supra_, p. 236 ff.

[29] 1230.

[30] 1250.

[31] 840 ff.

[32] 1244 ff.

[33] _Supra_, p. 282.

[34] 1266 ff.

[35] _Supra_, p. 294. Such a conception is rendered possible by the

command of Apollo, which gives an extra-legal complexion to the case. In

strict law such a plea was probably inadmissible (Plato, _Laws_, ix. ch.

9).

[36] 1644 ff.

[37] _Laws_, ix. ch. 8.

[38] v. 67.

[39] _Supra_, p. 145 ff.

[40] See _infra_, p. 368.

[41] 445 ff.

[42] See 1664-5.

[43] Schol. ad Eur. _Orest._ 1640.

[44] _Electra_, 1254-75; _Orestes_, 1643 ff.

[45] 46-50.

[46] 75-6.

[47] 1292-7.

[48] _Laws_, ix. ch. 9.

[49] See 268 ff., 390 ff., 545 ff., 776, 1229.

[50] 414-416.

[51] 591-9.

[52] 492-506.

[53] 507-517.

[54] _Supra_, p. 76.

[55] _Supra_, pp. 122, 132.

[56] _Eum._ 685.

[57] See _supra_, p. 308.

[58] 256-7.

[59] 884 ff.

[60] Plato, _Apologia Socratis_, 36-42.

[61] _Supra_, p. 258 ff.

[62] _Ajax_, 749 ff.

[63] Eur. _Troades_, 900.

[64] Eur. _Hecuba_, 119 ff.

[65] _Troades_, 715, 780.

[66] viii. 117.

[67] 892-3.

[68] _Eum._ 212, 608.

[69] _Works and Days_, 180 ff.

[70] 898 ff.

[71] See _supra_, p. 225 ff.

[72] _Supra_, pp. 9, 47.

[73] 903-6. ὡσεὶ ἔλεγε νόθος πολίτης (Schol.)

[74] Cleophon was of Thracian descent. (Schol. ad v. 772.)

[75] 915.

[76] 914-15.

[77] 944-6.

[78] _Laws_, ix. ch. 12; _supra_, p. 231.

[79] 917 ff.

[80] _Supra_, p. 74.

[81] _Supra_, p. 59.

[82] 923-30.

[83] 932-42.

[84] _Supra_, pp. 58 ff.; 217.

[85] ix. 36.

[86] 941.

[87] 1300. Her miraculous translation to ‘heaven’ is not inconsistent

with, but rather, we think, confirms our opinion that she was slain.

[88] See, _e.g._, Herodotus ii. 113 ff.; Eur. _Helen_, 1640 ff.;

_Troades_, 875 ff.

[89] 1140.

[90] 1625.

[91] 1645.

[92] _Laws_, ix. chs. 8, 9.

[93] See _supra_, p. 256. The command of Apollo was an extra-legal

extenuation of Orestes’ act. This act therefore merited, though it did

not actually receive, the ‘forgiveness’ of Clytaemnestra.

[94] 1648 ff.

[95] _Laws_, ix. ch. 9.

[96] 1650.

[97] _In Aristoc._ 641, 27.

[98] _Infra_, p. 370 ff.

[99] _Supra_, p. 124.

[100] Schol. ad Eur. _Orest._ 1640.

[101] _Supra_, p. 163.

[102] See Plato, _Laws_, ix. ch. 8.

[103] 1643-1652.

[104] 1660-5.

[105] 765.

[106] _Supra_, p. 223 f.

[107] 765.

[108] _Supra_, p. 196.

[109] 1249 and 1285.

[110] 771.

[111] _Supra_, p. 163.

[112] _In Aristoc._ 635; see also Plato, _Laws_, ix. ch. 8.

[113] 1074.

[114] 1591 ff.

[115] _Supra_, p. 103.

[116] _Infra_, p. 375 ff.

[117] See Introduction to _Orestes_, p. xxvi ff.

[118] _Supra_, p. 332 f.

[119] _Supra_, pp. 309, 345, 348.

[120] 1625 ff.

[121] _Supra_, p. 344.

[122] 285 ff.

[123] _Supra_, pp. 123 ff.; 298 ff.

[124] _Eum._ 338-41.

[125] _Orestes_, 255-7.

[126] _Orestes_, 260-1.

[127] _Ib._ 580-84.

[128] _Iph. Taur._ 285-291.

[129] Glotz, _op. cit._ p. 45.

[130] _Iph. in T._ 1580 ff.

[131] _Iph. Aul._ 1615-20.

[132] _Supra_, p. 336.

[133] _Agamemnon_, 194 ff.

[134] See England, Introd. to _Iph. in T._ p. xii.

[135] iv. 103.

[136] See England, _op. cit._ p. xviii.

[137] _Op. cit._ p. xxi.

[138] 1020 ff.

[139] 1190 ff.

[140] 940 ff.

[141] _Supra_, pp. 337, 349.

[142] _Supra_, p. 360.

[143] _Supra_, pp. 193, 213.

[144] 940-946.

[145] 961-972.

[146] 976-982.

[147] See Callimachus, _Hymn to Artemis_, 173 ff.; England, _op. cit._ p.

xiii.

[148] _Supra_, p. 117 ff.

[149] _Supra_, p. 148.

[150] Eur. _Medea_, 1380 ff.

[151] 1223-5.

[152] Eur. _Androm._ 173-6.

[153] _Infra_, p. 421.

[154] 947-960.

[155] x. 49.

[156] _s.v._ χόες.

[157] _Ancient City_ (trans.), p. 78 ff.

[158] _Supra_, p. 87.

[159] _Supra_, pp. 175, 347.

[160] _Proleg._ p. 41.

[161] 955.

[162] _Loc. cit._

[163] _Supra_, p. 367.

[164] _Phoen._ 1585 ff.

[165] _Supra_, p. 323.

[166] _Ant._ 1012-1017.

[167] _Ant._ 1035-62.

[168] _Ib._ 1080 ff.

[169] Eur. _Supp._ 113 ff.

[170] _Ib._ 940 ff.

[171] 16-19 (trans. A. S. Way); _cf._ 310 ff.

[172] 524-7; _cf._ 560 ff.

[173] 669-72.

[174] Eur. _Supp._ 1207; _cf._ Pausanias, ix. 18.

[175] _Phoenissae_, 774-7 (trans. Woodhull); _cf._ 1646.

[176] _Ib._ 1447-50.

[177] See 360 ff. and 465 ff.

[178] _Supra_, pp. 216, 323.

[179] _Supra_, pp. 311, 317.

[180] _Od._ xi. 271 ff.; _supra_, p. 55.

[181] _Homer and History_, p. 52.

[182] _Supra_, p. 21.

[183] See _supra_, p. 143.

[184] _Supra_, pp. 193, 213.

[185] _O.C._ 1255-1345; _ib._ 1341.

[186] _Phoenissae_, 1585-94.

[187] _O.C._ 87 ff.

[188] _Phoen._ 1703-5.

[189] _Phoen._ 59-68.

[190] _Supra_, p. 376.

[191] _Supra_, pp. 195, 258.

[192] _Phoen._ 1705 ff.

[193] Pausanias, i. 28.

[194] i. 28.

[195] _Phoen._ 64.

[196] _Ib._ 1593.

[197] _Od._ xi.

[198] _Il._ ii. 660 ff.

[199] _Dorians_, i. 411 ff.

[200] v. 67.

[201] 977 ff.

[202] 840-75.

[203] 1146-52.

[204] 1253-80; 1310-1364.

[205] 1229 ff.

[206] 462, 1285.

[207] _Supra_, p. 163.

[208] _Il._ xix. 98-9.

[209] _H.F._ 1285.

[210] _Supra_, p. 234 ff.

[211] 1281-90.

[212] Soph. _O.C._ 490-660; _supra_, p. 317.

[213] 1311-12 (attributed to Theseus by the MSS.).

[214] 1322-5.

[215] Note _ad loc._

[216] _Laws_, ix. ch. 8; _supra_, p. 163.

[217] See 1422.

[218] 1333.

[219] 15 ff.

[220] _Supra_, p. 163.

[221] ix. 41.

[222] Eur. _H.F._ 19.

[223] _Ib._ 13.

[224] _H.F._ 567, 754.

[225] _Supra_, p. 327.

[226] _Supra_, pp. 20, 283.

[227] 732.

[228] 755-6.

[229] i. 32.

[230] _i.e._ when he died.

[231] 50 ff.

[232] Pausanias, i. 29.

[233] 997 ff.

[234] 238 ff.

[235] i. 28.

[236] _Supra_, p. 251.

[237] 250-252.

[238] δίκης κυρήσειν.

[239] See _supra_, p. 164 ff.

[240] _Supra_, p. 263.

[241] _Supra_, p. 164 ff.

[242] 464-470.

[243] _Supra_, p. 327.

[244] 1050.

[245] 1009 ff.

[246] 1022 ff.; 1045 ff.

[247] 961-980.

[248] 1010.

[249] 1050.

[250] 1028 ff.

[251] 1053.

[252] 1024.

[253] _Supra_, p. 379.

[254] _Supra_, p. 223.

[255] βούλευσις, in the sense of a plot to kill which is not realised.

[256] See introd. to _Medea_, p. xi ff.

[257] 1334.

[258] 485.

[259] βούλευσις, when the plot was realised.

[260] _Supra_, p. 223 f.

[261] 735.

[262] _Od._ xi. 253 ff.

[263] Pindar, _Pyth._ iv. 95 ff.

[264] 735.

[265] Eur. _Phoen._ 410-425.

[266] _Supra_, p. 116.

[267] 709 ff.

[268] 746-7 and 749-51.

[269] See 796, 850, 1268, 1383.

[270] _Supra_, p. 234 ff.

[271] 846 ff.

[272] 1321-2.

[273] 1378 ff.

[274] 1386 ff.

[275] 1389 ff.

[276] _Supra_, p. 365.

[277] _Supra_, p. 234.

[278] 1231 ff.

[279] 1279 ff.

[280] 34-7. I venture to modify Woodhull’s version of v. 37—ἐναυσίαν

ἔκδημον αἰνέσας φυγήν,—as he renders ‘to _voluntary_ exile submitting for

one year.’

[281] i. 28.

[282] _Supra_, p. 245.

[283] _Laws_, ix. ch. 9.

[284] _Supra_, p. 214.

[285] 950 ff.

[286] _Supra_, p. 240 ff.

[287] 800.

[288] 877 ff.

[289] Homer, _Il._ vi. 160 ff.

[290] 887-898, omitting 891-892.

[291] 974, 1094.

[292] 1195 ff.

[293] 1282 ff.

[294] _Supra_, pp. 58 ff.; 76.

[295] _Supra_, p. 223.

[296] i. 22.

[297] i. 3.

[298] _Theseus_, 10.

[299] Paus. i. 22.

[300] _Supra_, p. 178.

[301] Paus. i. 28.

[302] _Ib._ i. 22.

[303] Plutarch, _loc. cit._

[304] Through his mother, Aethra.

[305] Eur. _Hipp._ 974, 1094.

[306] Müller, _Dorians_, i. 265 ff.

[307] _Supra_, p. 224 f.

[308] _Supra_, p. 326 f.

[309] 1106 ff.

[310] 1222 ff.

[311] 1254 ff.

[312] 1259.

[313] 1275 ff.

[314] 1291 ff.

[315] 1301.

[316] 1306.

[317] 1308.

[318] 1329.

[319] From 750 B.C. onwards.

[320] 1330 ff.

[321] 1000 ff.

[322] 1231 ff.

[323] 802 ff.

[324] _Supra_, p. 75.

[325] _Ath. Pol._ ch. 57; _supra_, pp. 192, 251.

[326] According to the usual interpretation of Aristotle, _supra_, pp.

225, 251.

[327] _Supra_, p. 225.

[328] 333 ff.

[329] _Cf._ 496.

[330] 450.

[331] 174 ff.

[332] _Supra_, p. 173.

[333] 1106.

[334] 1161 ff.

[335] 1241-2.

[336] 1240.

[337] _Supra_, p. 195.

[338] Glotz, _op. cit._ p. 473 ff.

[339] 1232 ff.

[340] 1136-1144.

[341] 1085-6.

[342] _Supra_, p. 83.

[343] _Supra_, p. 76.

[344] 1243-51.

[345] 714-20.

[346] 789-97.

[347] 534-8.

[348] _Supra_, p. 106.

[349] 260 ff.

[350] 40.

[351] _Bacchae_, 240 ff.

[352] 356 ff.

[353] 995 ff.

[354] 1202-15.

[355] See _supra_, p. 325 ff.

[356] 1250.

[357] 1296.

[358] 1330 ff.

[359] 1363, 1379.

[360] 1350.

[361] _Laws_, ix. ch. 9.

[362] 5-7.

[363] _Supra_, p. 44 ff.

[364] Plutarch, _Greek Questions_, 12; Aelian, _Var. Hist._ iii.

[365] 730 ff.

[366] _E.g._ 333 ff.

[367] _Troades_, 705 ff.

[368] _Supra_, p. 58 ff.

[369] 1150 ff.

[370] _Supra_, p. 122.

[371] _Contra Euerg. et Mnesib._ 1160, 15; _supra_, p. 182.

[372] 1639-41.

[373] _Iph. in T._ 1171.

[374] 1174.

[375] _Androm._ 173 ff.

GENERAL CONCLUSION

Having now concluded our inquiry into the origin, the nature, and the

evolution of Greek systems of blood-vengeance, it may be desirable

to give here a brief synoptic summary of the theories which we have

sought to establish. Our summary naturally falls into two sections: (A)

chronological and (B) literary.

(A) (1) From the earliest times there existed in Greece a code of

homicide-customs which is a well-known characteristic of the tribal or

‘group’ system of primitive human society; wergeld was the dominant

penalty, and exile or death, or, possibly, servitude were alternative

penalties; there was regular trial and collective control. We may call

the system ‘private vengeance,’ but it was fundamentally different from

‘vendetta.’ This system has left only very slight traces of its existence

in extant Greek literary or inscriptional remains: while it persisted

in a suppressed or modified form all through the course of ancient

Greek history, its presence was obscured by other developments, social,

religious, and political.

(2) Thus there was, in the first place, the Achaean domination (say,

1300-1100 B.C.) which is the dominant atmosphere of the Homeric poems;

we have seen that the Achaean system in regard to homicide made death

the normal penalty, but that this penalty could be avoided in practice,

though not in theory, by the flight of the slayer. There was no regular

or prescribed trial, but there existed a kind of social etiquette or a

potential military discipline which established a general distinction

between murder and vengeance, and which, while omitting any nice points

of discrimination in estimating the degrees of guilt, nevertheless

prevented any wholesale system of vendetta.

(3) When in the ‘Hesiodic’ age (1000-750 B.C.) various migrations and

economic changes disturbed the peaceful operation of clan-laws, and no

form of control, either tribal or military, could be said to exist in the

greater part of Greece (excluding, perhaps, the Attic State), then arose,

as we think, in its full vigour the barbarous vendetta system which has

left so marked a trace in Greek legends: then rose to prominence the

belief in ancestral curses, which were held to fall upon children even in

the fourth generation. Then came into being the blood-thirst of the dead,

the mutilation of the murdered corpse, the deprivation of burial—all the

barbarisms of collective hereditary vendetta.

(4) Into this state of chaos there came, as it were, by the foresight

of the gods, in the seventh century, the ‘Apolline’ religious code. The

murderer now becomes god-hated: he is shunned by society: all men must

rise in horror against him, and if he is guilty they must either slay him

or banish him for ever. Courts must operate, for murder, if for nothing

else. The right of suppliants must be respected at least till guilt is

proved. Wergeld is abolished, but a minor appeasement of the relatives is

permitted after exile, for minor degrees of guilt.

(5) Almost contemporaneously came the evolution of the synoekised Greek

State. A compromise between the old and the new ideas produced the laws

of Dracon and the historical murder-codes of Greece. The State now takes

over the execution, as well as the trial of homicides. The avenger of

blood gives place to the Public Executioner. Parricide and kin-slaying

are punishable with death. The property of wilful murderers is

confiscated to the State. Courts which at first have general jurisdiction

specialise in certain kinds of homicide, and their specialised functions

are stereotyped in law. The personnel of these courts undergoes

modifications which keep pace, in the main, with the advance of democracy

to complete political power.

(B) (1) We have seen that the homicide references in Homer can only be

properly understood by assuming a predominance, in legend or in the

atmosphere of the poet, of the Achaean system of vengeance, and the

existence of faint but unmistakable echoes of the Pelasgian wergeld

system.

(2) Of the Hesiodic period the poems of Hesiod are the only authentic

evidence, and such evidence is obscure. We may however supplement

it indirectly by arguments from survivals, and by the argument of

‘elimination.’

(3) Of the Apolline or historical system we need not review the evidence

which has been given at length in our Second Book. This evidence has been

examined and interpreted by many modern scholars. We have indicated what

we considered the most probable interpretation of matters which were

open to doubt, especially when the solution of the problem was important

for the analysis of blood-vengeance in Attic tragedy. We have sought to

prove that Plato’s homicide code should be regarded as an important and

indispensable contribution to the study of Greek homicide-law. However

difficult the analysis of the references to homicide in Attic tragedy may

have been, without Plato any such analysis would have been impossible.

INDEX

NOTE:—The following Index is intended merely as a supplement to the Table

of Contents, and is divided, for convenience, into four sections: (I)

subjects discussed: (II) modern authors cited: (III) persons, legendary

and historical, mentioned in connexion with homicide: (IV) technical

Greek terms.

I

adultery, 58 f., 74, 217, 356

Areopagus, 53, 94, 192, 194, 217 f., 221, 225, 243 ff., 248, 250-5,

263, 269-74, 279, 287 ff., 292 ff., 298, 310, 336, 340, 343,

345, 351, 359 ff.

Bouphonia, 246 f.

Burial, rights and duties of, 87

beliefs connected with, 106

refused to murderers, 223

of enemies in war, 379, 394

Canones Wallici, 9, 54

Delphinium court, 53, 94, 169, 214 f., 245, 249 f., 254, 263

Eleven, the, 249, 257, 262

Ephetae, the, 137, 158, 192, 197, 205, 249, 252, 263, 269 ff.

Erinnyes, the, 97, 99, 105, 109 ff., 113 ff., 120 ff., 145, 148, 151,

155, 166, 174 f., 289 ff., 297 ff., 307, 342, 345, 360, 366

ff., 372

Eupatridae, the, 136 f., 266 f., 289

Exegetae, the, 137, 147, 158, 169, 182, 192, 260, 262, 267 ff.

Exile penalty for homicide:

amongst the Pelasgians, 22-57

amongst the Achaeans, 65 ff.

in historical Greece, 143 ff., 157, 159, 161 ff., 164, 171, 173,

207 ff., 209 ff., 213, 218, 221, 225, 234, 237 ff., 247, 249

f., 256 ff., and Book III _passim_

Hebrews, homicide laws of the, 3, 140, 201

Heliastic courts, 249, 253

kin-slaying, Pelasgian penalty for, 47, 353

historical penalty for, 181, 233 ff., 401 ff.

land-tenure, Homeric, 15 ff.

Nekuia, the, 104 ff.

Orphism, 240 ff., 401

Palladium court, 53, 94, 204, 206, 245 f., 248, 250 f., 254, 263, 272

Pantheon, Homeric, 101 ff.

Phreatto court, 247, 249 f., 256, 263, 327

private settlement for homicide, 143, 146, 173-190, 209, 213, 221

Prytaneum court, 91, 197 ff., 202 ff., 246, 249 f., 256, 263

sanctuary, right of, 80, 94, 406

Semnai Theai, 146, 148, 298 ff.

Servitude, penalty of, 44, 330, 363, 418

Spartan homicide laws, 130 f., 158, 173

wergeld, 2, 7 ff., 24 ff., 32, 34 ff., 41 ff., 44, 88, 123 f., 124,

143, 146, 173

II

Bury on Homeric homicide customs, 23, 78, 79

on origin of trials for homicide, 92 ff.

on homicide-purgation, 111

on the Ionian tribes, 135 f.

on the Phoenicians, 138 f.

on the _Eumenides_ of Aeschylus, 287

Caillemer on parricide, 234

Coulanges, Fustel de, on the phratry, 82, 88

on local Attic magistracies, 83, 135, 199

on religious aspect of homicide, 95

on anthropomorphism, 100

on homicide-purgation, 111

Eichhoff on Homeric homicide customs, 23

Gilbert on origin of trials for homicide, 80, 93, 263

on the Attic tribe-kings, 83

on the Dorian tribes, 130

on State-execution of death penalty, 226 ff.

Gilbert on the Ephetae, 264 ff.

on the Exegetae, 267

on the Areopagus, 269

Glotz on the meaning of ποινή, 28 f.

on the Shield of Achilles, 40

on the penalty of servitude, 44

on homicide in Homeric Greece, 58, 68, 80

on the historical survival of clan courts, 83

on the judicial aspect of kin-slaying, 86, 181, 233 f.

on the question of γραφὴ φόνου, 258 ff.

on confiscation and wergeld, 219

on State-execution of death penalty, 226, 231 f.

on the meaning of θέμιστες, 90

on the Prytaneum court, 92

on the abolition of wergeld, 92, 179 ff., 222

on homicide-purgation, 112, 117, 139

on the Middle Age of Hellenism, 132 ff.

on Solon’s legislation, 133

on ‘private settlement’ for homicide, 143 ff., 174 f., 186 ff.,

198, 209, 221 f.

on ‘appeasement’ in cases of manslaughter, 198, 207 ff.

on the Ephetae, 264 ff.

on ἀσυλία, 145, 166, 179 ff.

Grote on homicide customs in Homeric Greece, 23

on Spartan institutions, 130

Harrison (Miss) on religious aspect of homicide, 96

on anthropomorphism, 100

on Olympian and Chthonian ritual, 102, 114

on the Erinnyes, 110, 113 ff., 123

on homicide-purgation, 110, 142

on the Year-Spirit, 334

on the Pitcher Feast, 377

Hogarth on early Boeotia, 131

Holm on Spartan institutions, 130

Jevons on homicide in Homeric Greece, 23, 78

on the _Eumenides_ of Aeschylus, 287

on Greek drama, 303

on Euripides, 332 ff.

Leaf on the historicity of Homer, 12 ff.

on tribalism in Homer, 21

on homicide in Homer, 25 ff., 66, 83, 96

on the Shield of Achilles, 25 ff., 89, 90

on kin-slaying in Homer, 95

on Achaean religion, 100

Leaf on Chthonianism in Homer, 103

on post-Homeric tribalism, 127

on the Dorian conquest, 129

on the Ionian tribes, 135

on Boeotia, 131

Lipsius on the Shield of Achilles, 35, 39 f.

on βούλευσις, 224 f.

on the Delphinium court, 255

Mahaffy on prehistoric Greece, 138

Maine on origin of private property in land, 15 f.

on the sacramentum, 40

on the θέμιστες, 90

on Indian village communities, 82

on Indian tribal police, 228

Monro on the Shield of Achilles, 34

Müller (C. O.) on homicide-purgation, 52, 65, 111 ff., 152 ff.

on the origin of trials for homicide, 93

on the religious aspect of homicide, 96

on the Erinnyes, 120

on ‘private settlement’, 174, 177, 209

on the δικαὶ ἀψύχων, 197

on ‘appeasement’, 207 f.

on the Ephetae, 265

on the Exegetae, 267

on the Areopagus, 269 ff.

on the trial of Orestes, 297

on Attic mythology, 135

on the Dorian Apollo, 155

on Thessaly, 128

on Sparta, 130

on Boeotia, 131

Murray, G., on primitive religion, 98

on the Year-Spirit, 334

Philippi on homicide-purgation, 153

on ‘private settlement’, 174

on the Draconian inscription, 194 ff.

on the δικαὶ ἀψύχων, 197

on the penalties for adultery, 217

on confiscation, 221

on the γραφὴ ἀσεβείας, 262

on the Ephetae, 264 f.

Ridgeway on the Homeric poems, 13

on Homeric land-tenure, 15 ff.

on the Shield of Achilles, 34

on Pelasgian and Achaean religion, 104 ff.

on the decline of Achaean power, 128

on the Boeotians, 131

on the place of Orestes’ trial, 296

Seebohm, F., on wergeld in Wales, 7 ff.

on the Welsh tribes, 20 f.

on _Beowulf_, 48

on the Wisigoths, 53

Seebohm, H., on tribalism in Homer, 13, 15

on Achaean offerings to the dead, 108

Verrall on the Erinnyes in Aeschylus, 123

on the _Eumenides_ of Aeschylus, 288, 290

on the trial of Orestes, 297

on Medea, 394

Wedd on the _Orestes_, 364 ff.

on Euripides, 398 ff.

III

Achilles, 29, 31, 139

Admetus, 418

Adrastus, 70, 379

Aegisthus, 72, 338

Agamemnon, 19, 72, 83, 413

Agave, 416 f.

Ajax, 32, 319, 321, 325, 416

Akamas, 69, 76

Alcestis, 418

Alcmaeon, 141, 157

Amphinomus, 60

Antigone, 319-25

Arthmius (ap. Dem.), 188

Astyanax, 419

Athamas, 116, 158

Bellerophon, 18, 59, 110, 111, 142, 151

Cleisthenes (of Sicyon), 156, 341

Clytaemnestra, 72 ff., 97, 125, 150, 175, 276-301, 311, 336 ff., 349

ff., 419

Creusa, 172, 229, 405 ff.

Croesus, 139

Diodorus (ap. Dem.), 181, 235, 260

Diomedes, 352

Dionysodorus (ap. Lysiam), 177

Electra, 304-9, 335-42

Epeigeus, 66

Epimenides, 152

Eupeithes, 60, 76

Eurystheus, 391 ff., 394

Euthyphro, 147, 182, 237, 259

Halirrhothius, 58

Hecuba, 83, 412-15

Helen, 347, 420 ff.

Hercules, 44, 173, 329 ff., 385 ff.

Hippolytus, 400-5

Hyettus, 58

Ion, 172, 405-8

Iphigeneia, 151, 281 ff., 311, 336, 369 ff.

Ixion, 155, 168

Lycophron, 66

Medea, 394-400

Medon, 66

Meleager, 70, 121

Menelaus, 348, 409

Menestratus (ap. Lysiam), 230

Nausimachus (ap. Dem.), 187

Nausithous, 18

Neoptolemus, 229, 408-11

Odysseus, 32, 50 f., 67, 104 ff., 325-9

Oedipus, 55, 75, 150, 170 ff., 304, 310-19, 378-84

Orestes, 60, 72 ff., 112, 120, 124 f., 151 ff., 169 f., 172 f., 185

f., 214 f., 229, 244, 255 f., 276-301, 305, 336 ff., 344 ff.,

360, 374-8, 408-12, 419

Pactyas, 168

Patroclus, 29, 56, 75

Phoenix, 32, 67, 69, 121

Polyneices, 302, 317 f., 321, 323 f., 378, 380

Proetus, 59, 110, 142, 151 f.

Pylades, 151, 309, 362 f.

Teiresias, 106 ff.

Teucer, 319, 327 ff.

Theoclymenus, 21, 65

Theocrines (ap. Dem.), 88, 183 f.

Theseus, 68, 76, 245, 379, 385-94, 400 ff.

Tlepolemus, 47, 108

Tydeus, 71, 396

Tyndareus, 62, 335, 348

IV

ἁγνιτής, 52, 112

ἀγορά (Homeric), 35

ἀνδροληψία, 164 ff., 239

ἀνδροφόνος, 237

ἀπενιαυτίζειν, 212

ἄποινα, 28 f.

ἄριστίνδην, 195, 198, 264

ἀσυλία, 145, 163

ἄτιμία, 144, 189, 219

ἄφεσις, 178

ἀφυλαξία, 147, 196, 213

βούλευσις, 193 f., 224, 251, 325, 405, 409

γραφὴ ἀσεβείας, 180, 260 ff.

γραφὴ φόνου, 181, 258 ff.

δικαὶ ἀψύχων, 93, 197

δικασπόλοι βασιλῆες, 89

ἔμφυλος, 21, 61, 65, 168

ἐσέσθων (from ἔσίημι), 207

θέμιστες, 90

ἱλασμός, 96

ἴστωρ, 43

καθαρμός, 96, 118

καθάρσιοι θεοί, 145, 152, 169

μασχαλισμός, 122, 308

μοιχάγρια, 59, 217

ποινή, 28 ff., 31

πωληταί, 221

φυλοβασιλεῖς, 88, 91

χόες, 364, 375

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Poine: a study in ancient Greek blood-vengeance · 第 10 / 10 章