Dr. Verrall[669] would regard it as a burlesque, that is, as a playful imitation of serious work, with exaggeration of weak features or tendencies. From the facts that one ode[670] has nothing whatever to do with the plot, but with the Mother and the Maid, and that Aristophanes parodies the play in his Celebrants of the Thesmophoria, wherein Euripides is accused of profaning that festival, it is inferred that Helen was not written for public presentation, but for private performance at a house on the island of Helene belonging to an Athenian lady. The occasion was a gathering of women who had been celebrating the Thesmophoria, and forms Euripides’ playful answer to the charge that he had never depicted a good woman. To prove his zeal, he chooses Helen (the least reputable of her sex) and completely rehabilitates her character.[671] At the same time he amuses his audience with a parody of his own work. The sanctuary of Helen recalls that of Andromache, and the escape that of Iphigenia and her friends. The news of this tour de force spread, and at last, owing to public curiosity, it was exhibited at the Dionysia.
There is no doubt (i) that the Helen is not serious either in intention or execution; (ii) that there is good evidence for supposing a connexion between the play and the festival of the Mother and the Maid, the Thesmophoria; (iii) that Aristophanes’ jokes about Proteus-Proteas and the rest do support the view that Euripides has in his mind the history of a family who have nothing to do with Menelaus and Helen; (iv) that in the play there are points, such as “Eido” (the baby-name of Theonoe), which are irrelevant to the story. Are we, then, to accept Verrall’s account? The sound view would appear to be that Euripides offered to the Archon a work which for once was a burlesque. So sincere a thinker as Euripides was certain sooner or later to attack himself, at any rate to examine his position and methods with humorous detachment. So far we may, we must, go with Verrall; the elaborate and delightfully detailed development we can hardly accept—the evidence is not sufficiently strong.
But the poet is making fun not only of himself. The false Helen and her disappearance at a crisis in the action, are not merely miracles of a type in which he utterly disbelieves; they are features which even a believer would remove as far as possible into the background. In handling this fairy-tale with such naïveté, he is possibly laughing at some indiscreet fellow-dramatist;[672] certainly he is ridiculing the popular belief in such legends. Helen herself cannot credit the tale of Leda and the Swan.[673] When given the choice between two accounts of her brothers’ fate, she prefers the non-miraculous version.[674] Even the dramatist’s own dislike of soothsayers is elaborately expounded by the Greek messenger and sympathetically echoed by the chorus,[675] absurdly enough in a play which contains Theonoe, whom the chorus themselves have induced Helen to consult, and with success; although of course Theonoe knows only what could be learned by listening to the talk of Menelaus.
The Phœnissæ[676] (Φοίνισσαι), or Phœnician Women, was produced about the year 410 B.C. The action takes place before the palace of Thebes. Jocasta explains that the blind Œdipus is kept prisoner there by his sons Eteocles and Polynices, whom he has therefore cursed with a prayer that they may divide their inheritance with the sword. They have arranged to rule for a year by turns; but Eteocles, at the end of his term, has refused to retire and Polynices has brought an army against Thebes. Jocasta has arranged that the brothers shall meet. When she has gone, a pædagogus shows the Argive host to Antigone from the roof. Next the chorus appear, a band of Phœnician maidens who sing of their voyage and of Delphi, their destination. Polynices stealthily enters and is greeted rapturously by his mother; Eteocles follows, and the brothers quarrel bitterly and finally. The chorus sing of Cadmus and the harvest of warriors. Eteocles comes forth and is advised by Creon to post a champion at each of the seven gates. He agrees, ratifies the betrothal of Antigone to Hæmon, and bids Creon consult Tiresias as to the hope of victory; if Polynices falls he is not to be buried in Theban ground. The chorus sing to Ares who has filled the land with war in place of the delightful Dionysiac worship; they celebrate the wondrous history of Thebes. Tiresias enters with Creon’s son Menœceus, and declares that victory can be won only if the youth is sacrificed. Creon arranges to send his son away, but Menœceus resolves to slay himself. The next ode celebrates the Sphinx, the tale of Œdipus, and Menœceus’ nobility. A messenger brings to Jocasta tidings that her sons are about to engage in single combat; she hurries to the spot with Antigone. After a brief ode of suspense, Creon returns mourning for his dead son, and another messenger tells at length how Polynices, Eteocles, and Jocasta have died. Thebes has won complete victory. The corpses are brought in, followed by Antigone, who summons the aged Œdipus. Together they bewail the dead till Creon breaks in and decrees that Antigone must marry Hæmon, Œdipus go into exile, and Polynices remain unburied. Antigone defies him: she will bury her brother, she will not marry Hæmon, but will share her father’s exile. Œdipus as they depart asserts his greatness as the Conqueror of the Sphinx.
This work was immensely popular in antiquity.[677] It was repeatedly “revived”; ancient authors quote from it often; together with the Hecuba and the Orestes it formed the final selection of Euripides’ work made in Byzantine times; and the scholia are extremely copious. Because of its popularity, the play was considerably expanded by interpolation. It is no mere question of isolated lines inserted by actors or copyists, though such appear to be numerous; considerable masses are due to a later poet or poets.
The following passages[678] are generally suspected:
(i) vv. 88-201, the scene of Antigone and her attendant upon the roof-terrace. To this it has been objected[679] that the entrance of Polynices should occur as the first event of the play after the closing words of the prologue which mention his expected arrival. This passage contains, moreover, a number of words otherwise unknown which is enormous considering the length of the scene, and several awkward or strained expressions.
(ii) vv. 1104-40, the description of the seven chieftains as they advance upon the gates. It is “full of obscurities and difficulties,”[680] particularly two elaborate yet frivolous descriptions of shields. Moreover, it practically repeats the terrace-scene; both passages can hardly be genuine.
(iii) 1223-58 (or 1282), the messenger’s account of preparations for the single combat, followed by the dialogue in which Jocasta calls Antigone to accompany her to the field. Not only are there marked faults of style;[681] it is impossible, considering the urgency[682] of the news, that the queen should stay for this tedious narrative. Jocasta’s conversation with Antigone is by no means so objectionable. It is very short, and the style is not unworthy[683] of Euripides. Nevertheless, it is strange that the queen should wait for her daughter at so urgent a time.
(iv) the end of the drama, though at what point the addition begins is not agreed. The last address of Œdipus which opens thus[684]: