exalt men's estimate of woman, to redeem women from despair of
themselves, by uplifting before them inspiring ideals of womanhood which
might be types and examples for all time. And, first, he gave them those
transcendent four--who in the union of the sweetness and lovable
gentleness of the pure womanly with the magnificent exaltation of the
highest heroism are unapproached by Homer's Penelope and Andromache, or
by Sophocles's Antigone. He gave them Alcestis, who surrendered her life
freely, not so much for her husband as for wifely duty's sake, and never
flinched nor faltered as the horror of great darkness swallowed her up,
but by strength of a mother's love stayed up the feet that were sinking
into Hades, till her dying breath had made her children's future sure,
and then in death's grasp quietly laid her hand, and so was drawn down,
faintly and ever more faintly murmuring love. He gave them Iphigenia,
who, summoned from the cloistered shelter of her home as to a bridal,
found herself set without warning before the altar of death, and yet
shrank and shuddered only till the full import of the great sacrifice
demanded dawned upon her, and then sprang full-statured to the height of
a godlike resolve; who grasped in her pure hands the scales of national
justice, who bore up with her slender wrists the fate of her fatherland,
and sang the triumph pasan of Hellas as she paced to death. He gave them
Macaria, who attained a height of selfless heroism unimagined till that
hour, in that unasked she gave her life for the salvation of a noble
house and of alien helpers; who refused to hearken to the suggestion
which whispered a hope of escape, but with unreverted eyes turned from
all joys and all hopes of young life, and spent her last breath in
consolation and encouragement to those who clung with adoring love and
passionate tears about her parting feet. He gave them Polyxena, the most
pathetic figure of all, sustained by no proud consciousness of salvation
wrought from suffering, but only welcoming death as an angel of
deliverance from shame and long regrets, who stood on the grave-mound,
arrayed in spotless innocence, with modest lips that calmly made in the
name of honor their last request, and so gave her throat to the sword,
while the fierce men who but now had clamored for her blood acclaimed
her of all maidens noblest of soul.
"He brought before them women in all the relations of life, everywhere
surpassing the men in goodness, in constancy, in wisdom, in counsel.
They watched the ministering angel who sat by a brother's bed, and wiped
the dew of agony from his brow and the foam of madness from his lips;
they held their breath while a gentle-hearted priestess bemoaned to her
unknown brother the cruel destiny which even then drew her to the verge
of fratricide. They saw the wife who hailed a death of fire to be
reunited to her slain lord, and the wife who devoted herself to save, or
die with, her husband. They heard one mother plead the cause of honor
and right against cold statecraft; they listened as another besought her
doomed sons to be reconciled. They thrilled beholding the princess-slave
whose love was stronger than death and whose highborn spirit flashed
defiance to a treacherous foe; and that other, who, remembering her
hero-husband, would not suffer the imminent death to make herself or
her children play a craven part, but mingled proud scorn of the
murderous usurper with regrets for hopes foregone. In the noble words of
Professor Mahaffy: 'These are the women who have so raised the ideal of
the sex, that in looking upon them the world has passed from neglect to
courtesy, from courtesy to veneration; these are they, who, across many
centuries, first of frivolity and sensuality, then of rudeness and
barbarism, join hands with the ideals of our religion and our chivalry,
the martyred saints, the chaste and holy virgins of romance--nay, more,
with the true wives, the devoted mothers, of our own day.'
"But there are female characters in his plays which have been pointed to
as proving a very different attitude toward women. Of these, Phaedra was
the best-abused by his enemies, who wilfully shut their eyes to her true
character. She is, by the very plot of the play, the helpless victim of
the malice of a goddess. With her brain beclouded by fever frenzy, she
agonizes for clear vision and wails for peace of mind. She is a
pure-souled, true-hearted woman, who tingles with shame and shudders
with horror at the hideous thing that has been born in her. She is
driven by the imminence of ruin to a desperate expedient to shield her
name from the unmerited dishonor which she might well believe, from the
ambiguously worded threat with which Hippolytus departed, was to be cast
upon her. He gave her cause to think that he would accuse her to his
father of a crime of which she knew herself innocent. In her despair,
she saw no help but to forestall him by an accusation equally false.
"Medea and Creusa--even Clytemnestra and Hermione--are not portrayed as
transgressors without excuse: in each case, the audience heard the woman
plead her cause and proclaim the doctrine that woman has rights as well
as man, that what man avenges as the inexpiable wrong is not a light
offence against her. It may well be that they were not ripe for the
reception of ideas so unheard-of, that many of them mistook his drift;
but the seed sank in, to bear fruit in due time.
"In each instance the sinner is a woman deeply wronged, or in sore
straits, or under daemoniac influence: there are no such gratuitously
wicked characters as Goneril, Lady Macbeth, or Tamora. Yet no one calls
Shakespeare a misogynist. Why, then, was it possible for Euripides's
enemies to charge him with being one, a charge doubtless echoed by a
good many thoughtless and stupid people in his day, but little
creditable to modern scholarship? For three reasons: first, the wilful
or obtuse misunderstanding of such characters as Phaedra--the
representation of these by Euripides was the main ground on which
Aristophanes alleged that the tendency of his plays was immoral.
Secondly, we occasionally come upon the censures of the faults and
foibles of women--their proneness to scandal, to uncharitable judgments
of their fellows, their pettiness, frivolity, and so forth. It must be
admitted, too, that the context sometimes justifies us in concluding
that the poet is uttering his own sentiments. It was, indeed, to be
expected that a thinker who had so high a conception of what women might
be should be painfully impressed by the contrast presented by what they
too often were. Nor is it matter for wonder that he should take
opportunities of bringing the same feeling home to them. It is not
enough to set noble ideals before people who are not yet conscious of
the incompatibility of their present habits and aims with the emulation
of those ideals. Faithful are the wounds of a friend, as indeed these
were, compared with the hideous presentments of female morality in which
Aristophanes revels, till his readers might imagine that pure and
temperate women were quite the exception in the Athens of his day. And
was he not a friend to women who gave, for the sake of his sisters for
whom heroic ideals might seem set too high, this winsome model, 'not too
fair and good for human nature's daily food'?
"'Beauty wins not love for woman from the yokemate of her life:
Many an one by goodness wins it; for to each true-hearted wife,
Knit in love unto her husband, is Discretion's secret told.
These her gifts are: though her lord be all uncomely to behold,
To her heart and eyes shall he be comely, so her wit be sound;
('Tis not eyes that judge the _man_; within is true discernment found):
Whensoever he speaks, or holds his peace, shall she his sense commend,
Prompt with sweet suggestion when with speech he fain would please a friend:
Glad she is, if aught untoward hap, to show she feels his care:
Joy and sorrow of the husband aye the loyal wife will share:
Yea, if thou art sick, in spirit will thy wife be sick with thee,
Bear the half of all thy burdens--naught unsweet accounteth she:
For with those we love our duty bids us taste the cup of bliss
Not alone, the cup of sorrow also--what is love but this?'"
The ill-deserved reputation of being a misogynist which attaches to
Euripides is due, not to his own plays, but to the satire and drollery
of his rival, the comedian Aristophanes, who, in B. C. 411 or 410,
produced the _Thesmophoriazusae_, a play so cleverly constructed that,
while it seemed to defend the female sex against the charges of
Euripides, really presented them in a more disgusting light.
Aristophanes represents the world of women as thrown into consternation
and revolt through the production of the tragedies of Euripides, such as
the _Hippolytus_, wherein the female sex is so severely arraigned.
Unable to endure his accusations, an assembly of women is called at the
Thesmophoria to plan the destruction of their arch enemy. Euripides,
however, hears of the assembly, and prevails on his father-in-law,
Mnesilochus, to disguise himself as a woman and seek admittance, that he
may plead the cause of the tragedian. The humor of the debate lies in
the fact that, after several women have roundly abused Euripides for
slandering their sex, Mnesilochus, attired in rustic female garb,
eloquently reminds them of the truths which Euripides might have
divulged had he chosen to do so. One sin after another is glibly and
facetiously piled up against the feminine record, until the few
calumnies attributed to Euripides seem insignificant beside the mountain
of crimes and foibles the supposed matron heaps up against her sisters.
The picture which Aristophanes, in his clever bit of satire, presents of
the women of his day is an exceedingly repulsive one. They are
represented as profligate, licentious, stupid, fond of drink, thieves
and liars. No other Greek writer has given them so base a character. But
we must remember that we are reading comedy. "The point of the
_Thesmophoriazusae_, so far as the women are concerned, is that, while
Aristophanes pretends to pillory Euripides for his abuse of them, his
own satire is far more searching and penetrates more deeply into the
secrets of domestic life."
The grotesque distortion by Aristophanes of the character of the
philosopher Socrates is sufficiently well known; the contrast between
the sentiments which he attributes to Euripides and the tragic poet's
own views as presented in his plays is very striking; hence the pictures
that he draws of the life and manners of women must not be accepted
without important allowances. Aristophanes was writing to make people
laugh, not to reveal the secrets of the household, and his plays were
exclusively for an audience of men. Hence coarseness and buffoonery, as
elements of comic effect, are continually availed of, and Aristophanes
considered that he was witty in maligning the female sex. It would
clearly be unfair and even absurd to regard Aristophanes as an accurate
expositor of feminine life in Athens. But it is a noticeable fact that,
from B. C. 411 onward, there is, as seen in the extant plays of
Aristophanes, a marked prominence given to the female sex. Women, who
heretofore have played but a subordinate role in comedy, now frequently
have the principal parts. Comedy, more truly than any other department
of literature, reflects the current thought; and while the characters of
comedy play a role that is the reverse of actuality, comic invention
deals with real movements, and this intentional prominence of the
usually neglected sex can have but one interpretation: the Woman
Question had become a problem which profoundly engaged the attention of
the society of the time.
It is a difficult task to attempt to trace in the comedies of
Aristophanes the thread of a social movement. He utilized the events and
opinions of the day for fun making, and did not greatly concern himself
with the serious aspects of social problems. He was an
ultra-conservative, and desired to bring the new thought of the day into
disrepute by exhibiting its ludicrous side. Hence he makes use of the
woman's rights movement to give free rein to his fancy, and to delight
the public with obscene jokes on the vices and weaknesses of women and
with clever caricatures of their leaders. Yet the attentive reader can
get glimpses here and there into the more serious aspects of the
question, and can recognize behind some of the distorted, caricatured
figures types which are not in themselves comic.
The other two plays of Aristophanes in which women figure prominently
are the _Lysistrata_ and the _Ecclesiazusae_. In each of these the
company of women is directed by a leader who in talents and
aggressiveness is far superior to her fellows. These two have not the
many small weaknesses of the other dames; they have the collective
interest of their sex at heart; and they know how to form a plan and
how to carry it through. The other women, in spite of their
thoughtlessness and weakness of character, are dominated by the strong
personalities of their self-appointed leaders. Hence, by a study of the
controlling spirit of each play, in spite of the caricature in the
poet's delineation, we may be able to form some conception of the
currents of thought of the day as they affected women.
Lysistrata is the wife of an Athenian magistrate, and has been strongly
affected by the ill success of the Peloponnesian War. She has meditated
long over the experiences of the female sex in general during the last
decade of the war. During the first ten years, the Grecian women had
borne in silence and without forming any opinions, in the narrow
confines of the home, the mistakes of their husbands; but gradually they
had observed how politics, in the hands of the men, was going from bad
to worse, and how want was increasing year by year. They began to ask
questions, to find fault in a mild way, though only with the result that
the men sent them back to their domestic duties with the brusque answer:
"War shall be a care to men." That which finally roused the women to
action was the realization that the men, in the face of events, had
unanimously recognized their own helplessness. Lysistrata therefore, in
Aristophanes's play, counsels the women to break their chains, seize the
reins of government, and bring the dreadful war to an end. She tells the
assembled women that they have carried a double burden in the war. As
mothers, they have borne sons whom they have been compelled to send
forth to death; while as wives, they have been deprived of their
husbands; even the maidens have grown old in single blessedness, on
account of the absence of men available as husbands. With such words as
these she arouses the spirit of her comrades. They, in turn, speak of
their virtues, their natural gifts, and their love for their native
country, to which they are so much indebted, and in duty to it they are
ready to turn their attention to things of war; for, say they: "The
Attic woman is no slave, and has sufficient courage to take up arms in
her country's cause: now, war shall be a care to women."
These reflections have a decided importance in a consideration of the
social history of the times by suggesting how the female sex developed
under the trying conditions of war.
In the poet's delineation of Lysistrata, the scene in which she
describes to the assembled Athenian and Laconian deputies their
political sins gains special importance. She possesses historical
insight. By recounting historical facts, she reminds them of what the
Laconians have done for the Athenians, and what the latter for the
Laconians, and awakens them to general Pan-Hellenic interests, for which
they should labor in common instead of weakening their power in
fratricidal war. In this address she characterizes herself as follows:
"I am a woman, it is true; but I have understanding; and of myself I am
not badly off in respect of intellect. By having often heard the remarks
of my father and my elders, I have not been ill educated."
We have then in the _Lysistrata_ the women of the day led on in a great
patriotic movement by an educated and eloquent woman. The play exhibits
a constant battle of words between men and women, each grouped in a
chorus. The women seize the Acropolis and make themselves experts in the
science of war. Their plans succeed; and the husbands are reduced to a
terrible plight by the novel resolution adopted by their wives to bring
them to terms. Envoys at length come from the belligerent parties, and
peace is concluded under the direction of the clever Lysistrata.
If from the unbridled drollery and serious moral of the drama we
endeavor to reach conclusions regarding the Woman Question, they will be
found to be about as follows. There were at this time certain prominent
women who were endeavoring to have the natural capabilities of the
female sex more justly esteemed, and energetic voices were being raised
against the humble status of woman in society and in public affairs.
This movement was quickened in the latter part of the century, owing to
the mistakes of the Peloponnesian War, but the efforts of women to
assert their rights were met by the violent opposition of the
conservative party. The leader in the _Lysistrata_, in her gift of
speech and breadth of understanding, typifies some historical women who
took a prominent part in the movement, and these were, probably, some
aristocratic ladies who had been influenced by Aspasia.
The unique importance of the _Lysistrata_ consists in its portraiture of
the leaders of the woman's rights movement and in its suggestion of the
ambitious projects they were prepared to undertake. The _Ecclesiazusae_
is, like the _Lysistrata_, a picture of woman's ascendency, but it goes
further in satirizing some of the schemes which in daily conversation
and in the works of the philosophers were being presented for bettering
the conditions of society and improving the status of women. The success
of such a play presupposes that the minds of the audience were prepared
for it by the informal discussion of such questions in everyday life.
The Athenian ladies, in the _Ecdesiazusae_, under the leadership of
Praxagora,--who is endowed with much the same gifts as Lysistrata, and
is, in fact, a replica of that clever woman,--disguise themselves as men
and crowd the public assembly; by means of the majority of votes which
they have thus fraudulently obtained, they overturn the government of
the men and proclaim the supremacy of the women in the State.
Praxagora, the leading agitator, is chosen _strategis_, and she
immediately proclaims, as the fundamental principles of the new State,
community of property and free trade between the sexes--ideas which were
prominent in the ideal _Republic_ of Plato and had been earlier
projected by Protagoras. "The point of the satire consists in this: that
the arguments by which the women get the upper hand all turn on their
avowed conservatism; men change and shift, women preserve their old
customs and will maintain the _ethos_ of the State; but no sooner have
they got authority than they show themselves more democratic than the
demagogues, more new-fangled in their political notions than the
philosophers. They upset time-honored institutions and make new ones to
suit their own caprices, squaring the laws according to the logic of
feminine instinct. Of course, speculations like those of Plato's
_Republic_ are satirized in the farcical scenes which illustrate the
consequences of this female revolution. But perhaps the finest point
about the comedy is its harmonious insight into the workings of women's
minds--a clear sense of what a topsy-turvy world we should have to live
in if women were the lawgivers and governors."
We have thus briefly sketched the indications of the prevalence of the
Woman Question in Athens, as presented in the plays of Aristophanes.
This writer furthermore affords us many ludicrous pictures of woman in
private life, which indicate that the fair sex were not always as weak
as men would have them. The chorus of the _Thesmophoriazusae_ resent the
many ill things said of the race of women,--"that we are an utter evil
to men, and that all evils spring from us, strifes, quarrels, seditions,
painful grief, and war. Come, now, if we are an evil, why do you marry
us, if indeed we are really an evil, and forbid any of us either to go
out, or to be caught peeping out, but wish to guard the evil thing with
so great diligence? And if the wife should go out any whither, and you
then should discover her to be out of doors, you rage with madness, who
ought to offer libations and rejoice, if indeed you really find the evil
thing to be gone away from the house and do not find it at home. And if
we sleep in other peoples' houses, when we play and when we are tired,
everyone searches for this evil thing, going round about the beds. And
if we peep out of a window, everyone seeks to get a sight of the evil
thing. And if we retire again, being ashamed, so much the more does
everyone desire to see the evil thing peep out again. So manifestly are
we much better than you." As portrayed by Aristophanes, the women of his
day manifestly knew how to assert their equality. Feminine foibles and
weaknesses do not escape his satiric pen. Women are overfond of dress,
and no brilliant or prudent action can be expected of them,
"Who sit deck'd out with flowers, and bearing robes
Of saffron hue, and richly border'd o'er
With loose Cimmerian vests and circling sandals."
Furthermore, they are fond of drink, and this vice is mercilessly
satirized. The inexorable oath administered by Lysistrata to her
comrades, in entering upon their crusade to bring about peace, is one
which no Athenian woman would incur the penalty of breaking: "If I
violate my pledge, may the cup be filled with water!"
Occasionally a man found he had married a wife who set aside his
conjugal authority and ruled the household. Thus Strepsiades, the
country gentleman of Aristophanes's _Clouds_, quarrelled with his
luxurious, city-bred wife, of the aristocratic house of Megacles, over
the naming of their son, which was the father's right, and, woman-like,
she carried her point; and this son she brought up to despise his
father's country ways and to squander his father's substance in horse
racing.
Aristophanes was not the only comic poet who indulged in gibes at the
female sex, for the object of comedy was to amuse, and the Athenian
audience of men ever found delight in the portrayal of the weaknesses
and foibles of the opposite sex. Even his predecessor Susarion, who was
the first to compose comedy in verse, and is usually called the inventor
of comedy, gave expression to the current abuse: "Hear, O ye people!
Susarion says this, the son of Philinus, the Megarian, of Tripodiscus:
women are an evil; and yet, my countrymen, one cannot set up house
without evil; for to be married or not to be married is alike bad." It
is unfortunate for our purpose that so little survives of the numberless
plays of the Middle and New Comedy, especially the latter, for this
comedy of manners presented a close and faithful picture of domestic
life and would have been an almost inexhaustible mine of information on
Attic life in general, full as it was of illustrations of the manners,
feelings, prejudices, and ways of thinking of the Ancient Greeks.
The fragments preserved to us are sufficient, however, to give us
glimpses of the manner in which woman was treated on the stage; and,
while there was much harsh criticism, it is gratifying to note that her
good qualities were at times recognized. Says the poet Antiphanes:
"What! when you court concealment, will you tell
The matter to a woman? Just as well
Tell all the criers in the public squares I
'Tis hard to say which of them louder blares."