§ 8. Kyklops.

The satyr dance, the earliest form of the Greek drama and the simple beginning from which the immense superstructure of tragedy took its start, continued, in the satyr composition which followed the regular trilogy, to remind the public of the original plan and tendency of the performances in honour of Dionysos[[253]]. Till late in the fourth century B.C., at least, this echo of the original Dionysiac festival remained in vogue. The Kyklops of Euripides is the only example of this sort of composition which has reached us, and although the present work is concerned with tragedy and vase paintings I cannot refrain from including here a painting that is under the influence of this unique relic of Greek literature. The connexion between the satyr-play and tragedy is certainly intimate enough to warrant the introduction of the present chapter.

Every one is acquainted with the story of Odysseus’ adventure with the Kyklops Polyphemos. Since the author of the Odyssey threw a charm around the story, this event in the wanderings of the hero has remained one of the most popular. In early Greek art there are numerous monuments based upon the myth. The black figured vases represent two critical moments. 1. The blinding of Polyphemos. 2. The escape of Odysseus and his companion from the cave. A long list of paintings tells this story over and over again, with little variation[[254]]. The artists evidently became tired of the monotony of the subject, for it is practically dead at the beginning of the fifth century. There was nothing new in the tale; it was distinctly epic, and for this very reason had its day and gave way to new motives in the dramatic literature. At the end of the century there was a revival of the myth. It gained a new lease of life through the Kyklops of Euripides, and once again all eyes were turned towards the old Homeric fiction. When the poet introduces Seilenos and his company of satyrs as slaves to Polyphemos, and turns the fortunes of Odysseus, on his arrival at the cave, by the intervention of this new element, the artist had certainly a new incentive. The rollicking, lusty antics of the tribe of satyrs had ever been the red figured vase painter’s delight, and when Euripides connected them with the adventures of Odysseus and the Kyklops the old story was ingrafted with a vigorous shoot[[255]]. Timanthes, whom we have already met[[256]], very likely owed it to Euripides that he associated Polyphemos with satyrs[[257]]. An interesting vase painting, which may be dated cir. 410 B.C., bears strong testimony to the influence of the Kyklops in Lower Italy[[258]].

Fig. 22.

The picture appears in fig. 22. In the foreground Polyphemos lies stretched out in his drunken stupour[[259]]; beside him is a stump on which hangs an empty wineskin, and on the ground a bowl. In the centre three youths, the middle one wearing a pilos, are busy tugging at a log. Two others on the left bring fire-wood to kindle the large stick[[260]]; another youth, probably Odysseus, in pilos and chlamys, directs the work from the opposite side. Two bearded satyrs, with the usual horse-tails, caper around on the right[[261]].

The whole painting breathes with the spirit running through the Kyklops. The impression gained by reading the play is remarkably well supported by a study of the former. There is no detailed agreement between the two which strikes one, for the situations in Euripides are not closely followed. There is, however, the same stamp of originality and newness characterizing both. The painting is a revelation to one who has seen only the earlier Homeric monuments.

It may first be noticed that Polyphemos is represented outside of his cave, and that the attack upon his big eye is about to take place. This is quite opposed to Homer and Euripides, yet more than half the charm of the scene lies in the naïveté with which the artist disposes of the giant. A glance at the words of the poet will make this clearer. Odysseus and his chorus of satyrs have fixed upon the means for overcoming the Kyklops. They beg Odysseus for permission to take a hand in preparing the fatal pole;

δεῖ γοῦν· μέγας γὰρ δαλός, ὃν ξυλληπτέον. v. 472.

says the son of Laertes, but when he came to the point where he really needed their help they made every manner of excuse; some were suddenly seized with lameness; others had dust in their eyes. But he knew that it would turn out so, and he relies on his own companions,

... τοῖσι δ’ οἰκείοις φίλοις

χρῆσθαί μ’ ἀνάγκη. vs. 650 f.

This is well brought out, whether intentionally or not I do not say, for it is Greeks who are lifting the δαλός, and as for its size every one will agree that it is μέγας. The two satyrs, representing the chorus, dance around lustily the while, having smelt the contents of the wineskin (v. 153 f.). As soon as the plan has been decided upon, Polyphemos appears again, having already sated his appetite on two of the Greeks, and having had at least a taste of the wine. What could prepare one better for the appreciation of the figure on the vase than his own words?

παπαπαῖ, πλέως μὲν οἴνου,

γάνυμαι δὲ δαιτὸς ἥβῃ

σκάφος ὁλκὰς ὡς γεμισθεὶς

ποτὶ σέλμα γαστρὸς ἄκρας.

ὑπάγει μ’ ὁ χόρτος εὔφρων

ἐπὶ κῶμον ἦρος ὥραις,

ἐπὶ Κύκλωπας ἀδελφούς.

φέρε μοι, ξεῖνε, φέρ’ ἀσκὸν ἔνδος μοι. vs. 503 ff.

His proposal to go and share his good fortune with the brother Kyklopes does not meet the approval of Odysseus, who bids him keep his good things to himself and enjoy them. Seilenos goes even further and says—

κλίθητί νύν μοι πλεῦρα θεὶς ἐπὶ χθονός. v. 543.

and Polyphemos takes up the suggestion at once, for we hear him ask

τί δῆτα τὸν κρατῆρ’ ὄπισθε μου τίθης; v. 545.

There can be little doubt that these verses particularly interested the artist. Well satisfied with the newly discovered drink, the Kyklops has dropped down upon his side as Seilenos recommended. The ἀσκός, which he ordered extra, hangs beside him and upon the ground is a bowl[[262]]. Both of these have evidently been drained. The inhuman monster sleeps on, quite in the manner of Euripides, in the presence of the active preparations for his own ruin.