No-Man's Land was the scene of many tragedies during the Great War.
There has come down to us a remarkable tragedy, called the _Rhesus_,
about a similar region. It treats first of the Dolon incident of the
Iliad. Hector sent out Dolon to reconnoitre, and soon afterwards some
Phrygian shepherds bring news that Rhesus has arrived that very night
with a Thracian army. Reviled by Hector for postponing his arrival
till the tenth year of the war, Rhesus answers that continual wars
with Scythia have occupied him, but now that he is come he will end the
strife in a day. He is assigned his quarters and departs to take up his
position.
Having learned the password from Dolon, Diomedes and Odysseus enter and
reach the tents of Hector who has just left with Rhesus. Diomedes is
eager to kill Aeneas or Paris or some other leader, but Odysseus
warns him to be content with the spoils they have won. Athena appears,
counselling them to slay Rhesus; if he survives that night, neither
Achilles nor Ajax can save the Greeks. Paris approaches, having heard
that spies are abroad in the night; he is beguiled by Athena who
pretends to be Aphrodite. When he is safely got away, the two slay
Rhesus.
The King's charioteer bursts on to the stage with news of his death. He
accuses Hector of murder out of desire for the matchless steeds. Hector
recognises in the story all the marks of Odysseus' handiwork. The
Thracian Muse descends to mourn her son's death, declaring that she
had saved him for many years, but Hector prevailed upon him and Athena
caused his end.
This play is not only about No-man's land; it is a No-man's land, for
its author is unknown; it is sometimes ascribed to Euripides, though it
contains many words he did not use, on the ground that it reflects his
art. For it shows in brief the change which came over Tragedy under
Euripides' guidance. It is exciting, it seizes the tragic moment, the
one important night, it has some lovely lyrics, the characters are
realistic, the gods descend to untie the knot of the play or to explain
the mysterious, some detail is unrelated to the main plot--Paris
exercises no influence on the real action--it is pathetic.
Sophocles said that he painted men as they ought to be, Euripides as
they are. This realistic tendency, added to the romanticism whence
realism always springs, is the last stage of tragedy before it declines.
A Euripides is inevitable in literary history.
Born at Salamis on the very day of the great victory of 480, Euripides
entered into the spirit of revolution in all human activities which
was stirring in contemporary Athens. He won the first prize on five
occasions, was pilloried by the Conservatives though he was a favourite
with the masses. Towards the end of his life he migrated to Macedonia,
where he wrote not the least splendid of his plays, the _Bacchae_. On
the news of his death in 406 Sophocles clothed his Chorus in mourning as
a mark of his esteem.
The famous _Alcestis_ won the second prize in 438. Apollo had been the
guest of Admetus and had persuaded Death to spare him if a substitute
could be found. Admetus' parents and friends failed him, but his wife
Alcestis for his sake was content to leave the light. After a series
of speeches of great beauty and pathos she dies, leaving her husband
desolate. Heracles arrives at the palace on the day of her death; he
notices that some sorrow is come upon his host, but being assured that
only a relation has died he remains. Meanwhile Admetus' parents arrive
to console him; he reviles them for their selfishness in refusing to die
for him, but is sharply reminded by them that parents rejoice to see the
sun as well as their children; in reality, he is his wife's murderer.
Heracles' reckless hilarity shocked the servants who were unwilling
to look after an unfeeling guest. He enters the worse for liquor and
advises a young menial to enjoy life while he can. After a few questions
he learns the truth. Sobered, he hurries forth unknown to Admetus to
wrestle with Death for Alcestis. Admetus, distracted by loss of his
wife, becomes aware that evil tongues will soon begin to talk of his
cowardice. Heracles returns with a veiled woman, whom he says he won
in a contest, and begs Admetus keep her till he returns. After much
persuasion Admetus takes her by the hand, and on being bidden to look
more closely, sees that it is Alcestis. The great deliverer then bids
farewell with a gentle hint to him to treat guests more frankly in
future.
This play must be familiar to English readers of Browning's
_Balaustion's Adventure_. It has been set to music and produced
at Covent Garden this very year. The specific Euripidean marks are
everywhere upon it. The selfish male, the glorious self-denial of the
woman, the deep but helpless sympathy of the gods, the tendency to
laughter to relieve our tears, the wonderful lyrics indicate a new
arrival in poetry. The originality of Euripides is evident in the choice
of a subject not otherwise treated; he was constantly striving to pass
out of the narrow cycle prescribed for Attic tragedians. A new and very
formidable influence has arisen to challenge Sophocles who may have felt
as Thackeray did when he read one of Dickens' early emotional triumphs.
In 431 he obtained the third prize with the _Medea_, the heroine of
the world-famous story of the Argonauts related for English readers in
Morris' _Life and Death of Jason_. A nurse tells the story of Jason's
cooling love for Medea and of his intended wedlock with the daughter of
Creon, King of Corinth, the scene of the play. Appalled at the effect
the news will produce on her mistress' fiery nature, she begs the Tutor
to save the two children. Medea's frantic cries are heard within the
house; appearing before a Chorus of Corinthian women she plunges into a
description of the curse that haunts their sex.
"Of all things that live and have sense women are the most hapless.
First we must buy a husband to lord it over our bodies; our next
anxiety is whether he will be good or bad, for divorce is not easy
or creditable. Entering upon a strange new life we must divine how
best to treat our spouse. If after this agony we find one to live
with us without chafing at the yoke, a happy life is ours--if not,
better to die. But when a man is surfeited with his mate he can
find comfort outside with friend or compeer; but we perforce look
to one alone. They say of us that we live a life free from danger,
but they fight in wars. It is false. I would rather face battle
thrice than childbirth once."
Desolate, far away from her father's home, she begs the Chorus to be
silent if she can devise punishment for Jason.
Creon comes forth, uneasy at some vague threats which Medea has uttered
and afraid of her skill as a sorceress. He intends to cast her out of
Corinth before returning to his palace, but is prevailed upon to grant
one day's grace. Medea is aghast at this blow, but decides to use the
brief respite. After a splendid little ode which prophesies that women
shall not always be without a Muse, Jason emerges. Pointing out that
her violent temper has brought banishment he professes to sympathise,
offering money to help her in exile. She bursts into a fury of
indignation, recounting how she abandoned home to save and fly with him
to Greece. He argues that his gratitude is due not to her, but to Love
who compelled her to save him; he repeats his offer and is ready to
come if she sends for him. Salvation comes unexpectedly. Aegeus, the
childless King of Athens, accidentally visits Corinth. Medea wins his
sympathy and promises him children if he will offer her protection.
He willingly assents and she outlines her plan. Sending for Jason, she
first pretends repentance for hasty speech, then begs him to get her
pardon from the new bride and release from exile for the two children.
She offers as a wedding gift a wondrous robe and crown which once
belonged to her ancestor the Sun. In the scene which follows is depicted
one of the greatest mental conflicts in literature. To punish Jason she
must slay her sons; torn by love for them and thirsting for revenge
she wavers. The mother triumphs for a moment, then the fiend, then the
mother again--at last she decides on murder. This scene captured
the imagination of the ancient world, inspiring many epigrams in the
Anthology and forming one of the mural paintings of Pompeii.
A messenger rushes in. The robe and crown have burnt to death Glauce the
bride and her father who vainly tried to save her: Jason is coming with
all speed to punish the murderess. She listens with unholy joy, retires
and slays the children. Jason runs in and madly batters at the door to
save them. He is checked by the apparition of Medea seated in her car
drawn by dragons. Reviled by him as a murderess, she replies that
the death of the children was agony to her as well and prophesies a
miserable death for him.
This marvellous character is Euripides' Clytemnestra. Yet unlike her,
she remains absolutely human throughout; her weak spot was her maternal
affection which made her hesitate, while Clytemnestra was past feeling,
"not a drop being left". Medea is the natural Southern woman who takes
the law into her own hands. In the _Trachiniae_ is another, outraged as
Medea was, yet forgiving. Truly Sophocles said he painted men as they
ought to be, Euripides as they were.
The _Hippolytus_ in 429 won the first prize. It is important as
introducing a revolutionary practice into drama. Aphrodite in a prologue
declares she will punish Hippolytus for slighting her and preferring to
worship Artemis, the goddess of hunting. The young prince passes out to
the chase; as he goes, his attention is drawn to a statue of Aphrodite
by his servants who warn him that men hate unfriendly austerity, but he
treats their words with contempt. His stepmother Phaedra enters with the
Nurse, the Chorus consisting of women of Troezen, the scene of the play.
A secret malady under which Phaedra pines has so far baffled the Nurse
who now learns that she loves her stepson. She had striven in vain
against this passion, only to find like Olivia that
Such a potent fault it is
That it but mocks reproof.
She decided to die rather than disgrace herself and her city Athens. The
Nurse advises her not to sacrifice herself for such a common passion;
a remedy there must be: "Men would find it, if women had not found
it already". "She needs not words, but the man." Scandalised by this
cynicism the Queen bids her be silent; the woman tells her she has
potent charms within the house which will rid her of the malady without
danger to her good name or her life. Phaedra suspects her plan
and absolutely forbids her to speak with Hippolytus. The answer is
ambiguous:
"Be of good cheer; I will order the matter well. Only Queen
Aphrodite be my aid. For the rest, it will suffice to tell my
plan to my friends within."
A violent commotion arises in the palace; Hippolytus is heard
indistinctly uttering angry words. He and the Nurse come forth; in spite
of her appeal for silence, he denounces her for tempting him. When she
reminds him of his oath of secrecy, he answers "My tongue has sworn, but
not my will"--a line pounced upon as immoral by the poet's many foes.
Hippolytus' long denunciation of women has been similarly considered to
prove that the poet was an enemy of their sex. Left alone with the Nurse
Phaedra is terror-stricken lest her husband Theseus should hear of her
disgrace. She casts the Nurse off, adding that she has a remedy of her
own. Her last speech is ominous.
"This day will I be ruined by a bitter love. Yet in death I will
be a bane to another, that he may know not to be proud in my woes;
sharing with me in this weakness he will learn wisdom."
Her suicide plunges Theseus into grief. Hanging to her wrist he sees a
letter which he opens and reads. There he finds evidence of her passion
for his son. In mad haste he calls on Poseidon his father to fulfil one
of the three boons he promised to grant him; he requires the death of
his son. Hearing the tumult the latter returns. His father furiously
attacks him, calling him hypocrite for veiling his lusts under a
pretence of chastity. The youth answers with dignity; when confronted
with the damning letter, he is unable to answer for his oath's sake.
He sadly obeys the decree of banishment pronounced on him, bidding his
friends farewell.
A messenger tells the sequel. He took the road from Argos along the
coast in his chariot. A mighty wave washed up a monster from the deep.
Plunging in terror the horses became unruly; they broke the car and
dashed their master's body against the rocks. Theseus rejoices at the
fate which has overtaken a villain, yet pities him as his son. He bids
the servants bring him that he may refute his false claim to innocence.
Artemis appears to clear her devotee. The letter was forged by the
Nurse, Aphrodite causing the tragedy. "This is the law among us gods;
none of us thwarts the will of another but always stands aside."
Hippolytus is brought in at death's door. He is reconciled to his father
and dies blessing the goddess he has served so long.
The play contains the first indication of a sceptical spirit which was
soon to alter the whole character of the Drama. The running sore of
polytheism is clear. In worshipping one deity a man may easily offend
another, Aeschylus made this conflict of duties the cause of Agamemnon's
death, but accepted it as a dogma not to be questioned. Such an attitude
did not commend itself to Euripides; he clearly states the problem in a
prologue, solving it in an appearance of Artemis by the device known as
the _Deus ex machina_. It is sometimes said this trick is a confession
of the dramatist's inability to untie the knot he has twisted. Rather
it is an indication that the legend he was compelled to follow was
at variance with the inevitable end of human action. The tragedies of
Euripides which contain the _Deus ex machina_ gain enormously if the
last scene is left out; it was added to satisfy the craving for some
kind of a settlement and is more in the nature of comedy perhaps than
we imagine. Hippolytus is a somewhat chilly man of honour, the Nurse
a brilliant study of unscrupulous intrigue. Racine's _Phèdre_ is as
disagreeable as Euripides' is noble. Like _Hamlet_, the play is full of
familiar quotations.
Two Euripidean features appear in the _Heracleidae_, of uncertain date.
Iolaus the comrade of Heracles flees with the hero's children to Athens.
They sit as suppliants at an altar from which Copreus, herald of their
persecutor Eurystheus, tries to drive them.
Unable to fight in his old age Iolaus begs aid. A Chorus of Athenians
rush in, followed by the King Demophon, to hear the facts. First Copreus
puts his case, then Iolaus refutes him. The King decides to respect the
suppliants, bidding Copreus defy Eurystheus in his name. As a struggle
is inevitable Iolaus refuses to leave the altars till it is over.
Demophon returns to say that the Argive host is upon them and that
Athens will prevail if a girl of noble family freely gives her life; he
cannot compel his subjects to sacrifice their children for strangers,
for he rules a free city. Hearing his words, Macaria comes from the
shrine where she had been sheltering with her sisters and Alcmena, her
father's mother. When she hears the truth, she willingly offers to save
her family and Athens.
"Shall I, daughter of a noble sire, suffer the worst indignity?
Must I not die in any wise? We may leave Attica and wander again;
shall I not hang my head if I hear men say, 'Why come ye here with
suppliant boughs, cleaving to life? Depart; we will not help
cowards.' Who will marry such a one? Better death than such
disgrace."
A messenger announces that Hyllus, Heracles' son, has returned with
succours and is with the Athenian army. Iolaus summons Alcmena and
orders his arms; old though he is, he will fight his foe in spite of
Alcmena's entreaties. In the battle he saw Hyllus and begged him to take
him into his chariot. He prayed to Zeus and Hebe to restore his strength
for one brief moment. Miraculously he was answered. Two stars lit upon
the car, covering the yoke with a halo of light. Catching sight of
Eurystheus Iolaus the aged took him prisoner and brought him to Alcmena.
At sight of him she gloats over the coming vengeance. The Athenian
herald warns her that their laws do not permit the slaughter of
captives, but she declares she will kill him herself. Eurystheus answers
with great dignity; his enmity to Heracles came not from envy but from
the desire to save his own throne. He does not deprecate death, rather,
if he dies, his body buried in Athenian land will bring to it a blessing
and to the Argive descendants of the Heracleidae a curse when they in
time invade the land of their preservers.
Though slight and weakly constructed, this play is important. Its
two features are first, the love of argument, a weakness of all the
Athenians who frequented the Law Courts and the Assembly; this mania
for discussing pros and cons spoils one or two later plays. Next, the
self-sacrificing girl appears for the first time. To Euripides the
worthier sex was not the male, possessed of political power and
therefore tyrannous, but the female. He first drew attention to its
splendid heroism. He is the champion of the scorned or neglected
elements of civilisation.
The _Andromache_ is a picture of the hard lot of one who is not merely a
woman, but a slave. Hector's wife fell to Neoptolemus on the capture
of Troy and bore him a son called Molossus. Later he married Hermione,
daughter of Menelaus and Helen; the marriage was childless and Hermione,
who loved her husband, persecuted Andromache. She took advantage of her
husband's absence to bring matters to a head. Andromache exposed her
child, herself flying to a temple of Thetis when Menelaus arrived to
visit his daughter. Hermione enters richly attired, covered with jewels
"not given by her husband's kin, but by her father that she may speak
her mind." She reviles Andromache as a slave with no Hector near and
commands her to quit sanctuary. Menelaus brings the child; after a long
discussion he threatens to kill him if Andromache does not abandon
the altar, but promises to save him if she obeys. In this dilemma she
prefers to die if she can thus save her son; but when Menelaus secures
her he passes the child to his daughter to deal with him as she will.
Betrayed and helpless, Andromache breaks out into a long denunciation of
Spartan perfidy.
Peleus, grandfather of Neoptolemus, hearing the tumult intervenes. After
more rhetoric he takes Andromache and Molossus under his protection and
cows Menelaus, who leaves for Sparta on urgent business. When her father
departs, Hermione fears her husband's vengeance on her maltreatment of
the slave and child whom he loves. Resolving on suicide, she is checked
by the entry of Orestes who is passing through Phthia to Dodona. She
begs him to take her away from the land or back to her father. Orestes
reminds her of the old compact which their parents made to unite
them; he has a grievance against Neoptolemus apart from his frustrated
wedlock, for he had called him a murderer of his mother. He had
therefore taken measures to assassinate him at Delphi, whither he had
gone to make his peace with Apollo.
Hearing of Hermione's flight Peleus returns, only to hear more serious
news. Orestes' plot had succeeded and Neoptolemus had been overwhelmed.
In consternation he fears the loss of his own life in old age. His
goddess-wife Thetis appears and bids him marry Andromachus to Hector's
brother Helenus; Molossus would found a mighty kingdom, while Peleus
would become immortal after the burial of Neoptolemus.
A very old criticism calls this play "second rate". Dramatically it
is worthless, for it consists of three episodes loosely connected. The
motives for Menelaus' return and Hermione's flight with an assassin
from a husband she loved are not clear, while the _Deus ex machina_ adds
nothing to the story. It is redeemed by some splendid passages, but is
interesting as revealing a further development of Euripides' thought. He
here makes the slave, another downtrodden class, free of the privileges
of literature, for to him none is vile or reprobate. The famous painting
_Captive Andromache_ indicates to us the loneliness of slavery.
The same subject was treated more successfully in the _Hecuba_: she has
received her immortality in the famous players' scene in _Hamlet_. The
shade of Polydorus, Hecuba's son, outlines the course of the action.
Hecuba enters terrified by dreams about him and her daughter
Polyxena. Her forebodings are realised when she hears from a Chorus of
fellow-captives that the shade of Achilles has demanded her daughter's
sacrifice. Odysseus bids her face the ordeal with courage. She replies
in a splendid pathetic appeal. Reminding him how she saved him from
discovery when he entered Troy in disguise, she demands a requital.
"Kill her not, we have had enough of death. She is my comfort, my
nurse, the staff of my life and guide of my way. She is my joy in
whom I forget my woes. Victors should not triumph in lawlessness
nor think to prosper always. I was once but now am no more, for
one day has taken away my all."
He sympathises but dare not dishonour the mighty dead. Polyxena
intervenes to point out the blessings death will bring her.
"First, its very unfamiliar name makes me love it. Perhaps I might
have found a cruel-hearted lord to sell me for money, the sister
of Hector; I might have had the burden of making bread, sweeping
the house and weaving at the loom in a life of sorrow. A slave
marriage would degrade me, once thought a fit mate for kings."
Bidding Odysseus lead her to death, she takes a touching and beautiful
farewell. Her latter end is splendidly described by Talthybius.
A serving woman enters with the body of Polydorus; she is followed by
Agamemnon who has come to see why Hecuba has not sent for Polyxena's
corpse. In hopeless grief she shows her murdered son, begging his aid to
a revenge and promising to exact it without compromising him. A message
brings on the scene Polymestor, her son's Thracian host with his sons.
In a dialogue full of terrible irony Hecuba inquires about Polydorus,
saying she has the secret of a treasure to reveal. He enters her tent
where is nobody but some Trojan women weaving. Dismissing his guards, he
lets the elder women dandle his children, while the younger admire his
robes. At a signal they arose, slew the children and blinded him. On
hearing the tumult, Agamemnon hurries in; turning to him, the Thracian
demands justice, pretending he had slain Polydorus to win his favour.
Hecuba refutes him, pointing out that it was the lust for her son's
gold which caused his death. Agamemnon decides for Hecuba, whereupon
Polymestor turns fay, prophesying the latter end of Agamemnon, Hecuba
and Cassandra.
The strongest and weakest points of Euripides' appeal are here apparent.
The play is not one but two, the connection between the deaths of both
brother and sister being a mere dream of their mother. The poet tends
to rely rather upon single scenes than upon the whole and is so far
romantic rather than classical. His power is revealed in the very
stirring call he makes upon the emotions of pity and revenge; because of
this Aristotle calls him the most tragic of the poets.
The _Supplices_, written about 421, carries a little further the history
of the Seven against Thebes. A band of Argive women, mothers of the
defeated Seven, apply to Aethra, mother of Theseus, to prevail on her
son to recover the dead bodies. Adrastus, king of Argos, pleads with
Theseus who at first refuses aid but finally consents at the entreaties
of his mother. His ultimatum to Thebes is delayed by the arrival of a
herald from that city. A strange discussion of the comparative merits of
democracy and tyranny leads to a violent scene in which Theseus promises
a speedy attack in defence of the rights of the dead.
In the battle the Athenians after a severe struggle won the victory; in
the moment of triumph Theseus did not enter the city, for he had come
not to sack it but to save the dead. Reverently collecting them he
washed away the gore and laid them on their biers, sending them to
Athens. In an affecting scene Adrastus recognises and names the bodies.
At this moment Evadne enters, wife of the godless Capaneus who was
smitten by the thunderbolt; she is demented and wishes to find the body
to die upon it. Her father Iphis comes in search of her and at first
does not see her, as she is seated on a rock above him. His pleadings
with her are vain; she throws herself to her death. At the sight Iphis
plunges into a wild lament.
"She is no more, who once kissed my face and fondled my head. To a
father the sweetest joy is his daughter; son's soul is greater, but
less winsome in its blandishments."
Theseus returns with the children of the dead champions to whom he
presents the bodies. He is about to allow Adrastus to convey them home
when Athena appears. She advises him to exact an oath from Adrastus
that Argos will never invade Attica. To the Argives she prophecies a
vengeance on Thebes by the Epigoni, sons of the Seven.
This play is very like the _Heraclidae_ but adds a new feature; drama
begins to be used for political purposes. The play was written at the
end of the first portion of the Peloponnesian war, when Argos began to
enter the world of Greek diplomacy. This illegitimate use of Art cannot
fail to ruin it; Art has the best chance of making itself permanent when
it is divorced from passing events. But there are other weaknesses in
this piece; it has some fine and perhaps some melodramatic situations;
here and there are distinct touches of comedy.
The _Ion_ is a return to Euripides' best manner. Hermes in a prologue
explains what must have been a strange theme to the audience. Ion is a
young and nameless boy who serves the temple of Apollo in Delphi. There
is a mystery in his birth which does not trouble his sunny intelligence.
Creusa, daughter of Erectheus King of Athens, is married to Xuthus but
has no issue. Unaware that Ion is her son by Apollo, she meets him and
is attracted by his noble bearing. A splendid dialogue of tragic irony
represents both as wishing to find the one a mother, the other a son.
Creusa tells how she has come to consult the oracle about a friend who
bore a son to the god and exposed him. Ion is shocked at the immorality
of the god he serves; he refuses to believe that an evil god can claim
to deliver righteous oracles. Addressing the gods as a body, he states
the problem of the play.
"Ye are unjust in pursuing pleasure rather than wisdom; no longer
must we call men evil, if we imitate your evil deeds; rather the
gods are evil, who instruct men in such things."
Xuthus embraces Ion as his son in obedience to a command he has just
received to greet as his child the first person he meets on leaving the
shrine. Ion accepts the god's will but longs to know who is his mother.
Seeing an unwonted dejection in him Xuthus learns the reason. Ion is
afraid of the bar on his birth which will disqualify him from residence
at Athens, where absolute legitimacy was essential; his life at Delphi
was in sharp contrast, it was one of perfect content and eternal
novelty. Xuthus tells him he will take him to Athens merely as a
sightseer; he is afraid to anger his wife with his good fortune; in time
he will win her consent to Ion's succession to the throne.
Creusa enters with an old man who had been her father's Tutor. She
learns from the Chorus that she can never have a son, unlike her more
lucky husband who has just found one. The Tutor counsels revenge; though
a slave, he will work for her to the end.
"Only one thing brings shame to a slave, his name. In all else he
is every whit the equal of a free man, if he is honest."
The two decide to poison Ion when he offers libations. But the plot
failed owing to a singular chance. The birds in the temple tasted the
wine and one that touched Ion's cup died immediately. Creusa flees to
the altar, pursued by Ion who reviles her for her deed. At that moment
the old Prophetess appears with the vessel in which she first found Ion.
Creusa recognises it and accurately describes the child's clothing which
she wove with her own hands; mother and son are thus united. The play
closes with an appearance of Athena, who prophesies that Ion shall be
the founder of the great Ionian race, for Apollo's hand had protected
him and Creusa throughout.
The central problem of this piece is whether the gods govern the world
righteously or not. No more vital issue could be raised; if gods are
wicked they must fall below the standard of morality which men insist
on in their dealings with one another. Ion is the Greek Samuel; his
naturally reverent mind is disturbed at any suggestion of evil in a
deity. His boyish faith in Apollo is justified and Euripides seems to
teach in another form the lesson that "except we become as children, we
cannot enter the kingdom of Heaven."
The _Hercules Furens_ belongs to Euripides' middle period. Amphitryon,
father of Heracles, and Megara, the hero's wife, are in Theban territory
waiting for news. They are in grave danger, for Lycus, a new king,
threatens to kill them with Heracles' children, as he had already slain
Megara's father. He has easy victims in Amphitryon, "naught but an empty
noise", and Megara, who is resigned to the inevitable. Faced with this
terror, Amphitryon exclaims:--
"O Zeus, thou art a worse friend than I deemed. Though a mortal,
I exceed thee in worth, god though thou art, for I have never
abandoned my son's children. Thou canst not save thy friends;
either thou art ignorant or unjust in thy nature."
As they are led out to slaughter, Amphitryon makes what he is sure is a
vain appeal to Heaven to send succour. At that moment the hero himself
appears. Seeing his family clad in mourning, he inquires the reason. At
first his intention is to attack Lycus openly, but Amphitryon bids
him wait within; he will tell Lycus that his victims are sitting as
suppliants on the hearth; when the King enters Heracles may slay him
without trouble.
When vengeance has been taken Iris descends from heaven, sent by Hera
to stain Heracles with kindred bloodshed. She summons Madness who is
unwilling to afflict any man, much less a famous hero. Reluctantly
consenting she sets to work. A messenger rushes out telling the
sequel. Heracles slew two of his children and was barely prevented from
destroying his father by the intervention of Athena. He reappears in
his right mind, followed by Amphitryon who vainly tries to console
him. Theseus who accompanied Heracles to the lower world hurries in on
hearing a vague rumour. To him Heracles relates his life of never-ending
sorrow. Conscious of guilt and afraid of contaminating any who
touch him, he at length consents to go to Athens with Theseus for
purification. He departs in sorrow, bidding his father bury the slain
children.
Like the _Hecuba_, this play consists of two very loosely connected
parts. The second is decidedly unconvincing. Madness has never been
treated in literature with more power than in Hamlet and Lear. Besides
Shakespeare's work, the description in the mouth of a messenger, though
vivid enough, is less effective, for "what is set before the eyes
excites us more than what is dropped into our ears" as Horace remarks.
But the point of the play is the seemingly undeserved suffering which
is the lot of a good character. This is the theme of many a Psalm in the
Bible; its answer is just this--"Whom the Lord loveth He chasteneth."
In 415 Euripides told how Hecuba lost her last remaining child
Cassandra. The plot of the _Trojan Women_ is outlined by Poseidon and
Athena who threaten the Greeks with their hatred for burning the temples
of Troy. After a long and powerful lament the captive women are told
their fate by the herald Talthybius. Cassandra is to be married to
Agamemnon. She rushes in prophesying wildly. On recovering calm speech
she bids her mother crown her with garlands of victory, for her bridal
will bring Agamemnon to his death, avenging her city and its folk.
Triumphantly she passes to her appointed work of ruin.
Andromache follows her, assigned to Neoptolemus. She sadly points out
how her faithfulness to Hector has brought her into slavery with a proud
master.
"Is not Polyxena's fate agony less than mine? I have not that thing
which is left to all mortals, hope, nor may I flatter my mind heart
with any good to come, though it is sweet to even to dream of it."
This despair is rendered more hopeless when she learns that the Greeks
have decided to throw her little son Astyanax from the walls.
Menelaus comes forward, gloating at the revenge he hopes to wreak on
Helen. On seeing him Hecuba first prays:--
"Thou who art earth's support and hast thy seat on earth, whoever
thou art, past finding out, Zeus, whether thou art a natural
Necessity or man's Intelligence, to thee I pray. Moving in a
noiseless path thou orderest all things human in righteousness."