Ἐκεῖ (sc. ἐν τοῖς ἀγῶσι) μεῖζον δύνανται νῦν τῶν ποιητῶν oἱ ὑποκριταί.—Aristotle.
CHAPTER III
THE INFLUENCE OF ACTORS[271]
The dithyramb and the comus, together with their derivatives, early tragedy and early comedy, were entirely choral. Actors were first developed in tragedy (see [pp. 16] and [48, n. 1], above). Inasmuch as the early dithyramb and early tragedy were devoted to the worship of Dionysus and since their choreutae were his attendant sprites (satyrs or sileni), it followed that their songs would mostly take the form of prayers addressed to him, hymns in his honor, or odes descriptive of his adventures, sufferings, etc. A lyric duet between the coryphaeus and the other choreutae was also possible. Such performances bore much the same relationship to later tragedy that the modern oratorio bears to a sacred opera. That is to say, the choreutae were not differentiated in character, and there was no dramatic impersonation (μίμησις); despite their costumes the chorus sang as human worshipers of Dionysus, not in accordance with their character as sileni. From the duet between the coryphaeus and the other choreutae it was only a step, but a highly important one, no longer to think of the coryphaeus as one silenus among his fellows but as Dionysus himself in the midst of his followers, and then to set him off by himself as an actor in contradistinction to the choreutae and their (new) coryphaeus. This innovation was the work of Thespis, and however long the name “tragedy” may already have been applied to the previous performances this step marked the first beginning of tragedy in the modern sense (see [p. 16 f.], above). Now that the new actor had to impersonate Dionysus, the necessity rested likewise upon the sileni in the chorus to live up to their own, previously neglected, character. It was not long until by a change of mask and costume the actor was enabled to represent other personages as well as Dionysus himself. This practice made possible a much more involved type of drama than the limited resources would at first glance seem to permit.
Fig. 66
IVORY STATUETTE OF A TRAGIC ACTOR
Aeschylus’ earliest extant play, the Suppliants, belongs to the two-actor period, but employs the second actor so sparingly as to afford a very good idea of the possibilities of the one-actor play. Omitting the choral odes, the action runs as follows: The fifty daughters of Danaus (the chorus) seek sanctuary near Argos to escape the unwelcome suit of their cousins. At vs. 176 Danaus begins to admonish his daughters and a dialogue (vss. 204-33) ensues between them. At vs. 234 the king of Argos enters and engages with the chorus in a dialogue and a lyric duet (vss. 234-417). During this scene Danaus is present, silent, inactive, and all but unnoticed; cf. vs. 318. Of course in a one-actor play this character must have been removed so that the single actor might reappear as the king. But that could easily have been managed and would affect the present piece in no essential way. After an ode the dialogue between the king and the chorus is resumed (vss. 438-523), broken in upon only by a brief conversation between the king and Danaus (vss. 480-503). The former instructs Danaus how to supplicate the citizens in the town and, upon the latter’s request for protection, orders attendants to accompany him. Here for the first time are the two actors simultaneously employed, but their words serve no more important purpose than to motivate the exit of one of them. At vs. 523 the king likewise withdraws. At vs. 600 Danaus reappears and with but a slight interruption on the part of his daughters (vss. 602-4) informs them that the Argives have decided to shield them (vss. 600 f., 605-24). At vs. 710 Danaus descries the suitors’ fleet in the distance and declares, “I will return with helpers and defenders” (vs. 726). Nevertheless, the scene is continued until vs. 775, when Danaus departs to spread the alarm, incidentally releasing this actor to play the part of the suitors’ herald. At vs. 836 the herald enters and to the accompaniment of a lyric duet between himself and the chorus tries to drag the Danaids away. At vs. 907 this attempt at violence is brought to a standstill by the king’s return. The following altercation between the herald and the king (vss. 907-53) provides the only bit of genuine dramatic conflict, visually represented, in the play and the only instance of both actors being fully made use of together. In a one-actor play such a passage would have been impossible but could have been presented indirectly by means of a messenger’s narrative. At vs. 953 the herald withdraws, discomforted, and the king turns to the chorus (vss. 954-65). In reply the chorus ask that their father be returned to them (vss. 966 ff.). The interval having been sufficient to enable the actor to shift from the mask and costume of the herald to those of Danaus, the latter re-enters at vs. 980 and converses with his daughters until the final ode. Of all the extant plays of Aeschylus the Suppliants probably makes the slightest appeal to the modern student. Its principal value for us lies in the fact that it could readily be revamped for presentation by one actor and in the light which it thus sheds upon the character of one-actor drama.
Several times in this play, as appears from the foregoing outline, an actor participates in a dialogue with the chorus. It was not the practice for the choral part in such dialogues to be spoken by all the choreutae in unison, but by the chorus leader alone. Thus, though a sharp distinction was drawn between actors and chorus, the former being furnished by the state and the latter by private means (cf. [pp. 270 f.], below), yet the coryphaeus served as a bond of connection between the two. We have seen how the first actor was developed from the chorus leader; doubtless the successive additions to the number of actors were suggested in each case by the advantages arising from this quasi-histrionic function of the coryphaeus. Thus in addition to the regular actors, at each stage of development the tragic poet always had at his disposal also one quasi-actor for carrying on his dialogues. And the comic poet always had two such quasi-actors, since the leaders of the two semi-choruses could be used in this way (see [p. 44], above). In the one-actor period this quasi-histrionic function of the coryphaeus resulted in a convention which continued long after the necessity for it had passed away. It is obvious that at that juncture the single actor could converse with no one but the chorus. This practice became so stereotyped that in the two-actor period whenever a character came into the presence of the chorus and another actor he directed his remarks to the chorus before turning to the other character. Of course oftentimes this was the natural thing to do. But the force of tradition is seen in the fact that the principle was sometimes observed under unfavorable conditions. Thus, as we have already observed, in the Suppliants the king enters at vs. 234 and at once begins a dialogue with the chorus, ignoring their father until vs. 480. Greek respect for age and partiality for the masculine sex make this arrangement in a Greek play very unnatural. Again, in the Persians a messenger from Greece ignores his queen (vss. 249 ff.) and reports the Persian disaster to the chorus of elders. Not until vs. 290 does Atossa address him, and in typical Greek fashion Aeschylus strives to make her words gloss over the unreality of his characters’ compliance with convention. “For a long time have I kept silence,” she begins, “dumbfounded by catastrophe. This ill exceeds my power to tell or ask our woes.” The same convention persisted even into the three-actor period. Clytemnestra’s husband has been gone ten years or more, yet she must excuse herself to the chorus (Aeschylus’ Agamemnon, vss. 855-78) before greeting her lord (see [p. 155], above). Another instance occurs in Euripides’ Children of Heracles, vss. 120 ff. Moreover the coryphaeus sometimes exercises an important influence upon the plot. For example, in Aeschylus’ Libation-Bearers, vss. 766 ff., it is the coryphaeus who induces the servant to alter the wording of the summons with which she is sent to Aegisthus. By this device he comes unescorted and falls an easy victim to the conspirators.
In view of the normal employment of the coryphaeus as a quasi-actor, Aeschylus took an easy and obvious step, or rather half-step, in advance when he introduced the second actor. We have seen that the deuteragonist was already made use of, though sparingly, in the Suppliants. Also the Persians, the Seven against Thebes (except possibly the closing scene; see [p. 175], below), and the Prometheus Bound require but two actors for presentation. The great advantage accruing from the second actor is manifest. Instead of being compelled to resort to a messenger’s report of an altercation or dialogue between two personages, the playwright was now enabled to bring the characters face to face in person upon his stage. On the other hand, so limited a number of actors often seriously embarrassed the dramatist in the economy of his play. Perhaps the best example of this is afforded by Aeschylus’ Prometheus. In the opening scene Cratos and Bia (Strength and Force) drag Prometheus to a remote spot in Scythia and Hephaestus nails him to a crag. How can these four characters be presented by two actors? In the first place Bia has no speaking part, and mutes were freely employed in addition to the regular actors. In the second place Prometheus was represented by a wooden figure. This explains how it was possible for a nail to be driven right through his breast (vss. 64 f.). It explains also why so great emphasis is laid upon the fastening process; first the hands are pinned down (vs. 55), then the arms (vs. 60), the breast (vs. 65) and sides (vs. 71), and finally the legs (vs. 74). Thus the immobility and lifelessness of the supposed Prometheus are accounted for. Neither Hephaestus’ sympathy nor Cratos’ insults elicit a single word of reply from his lips. Although this silence arises naturally from the Titan’s unyielding disposition, yet the real reason lies in the use of a dummy. At vs. 81 Hephaestus retires, and after six lines of further insults Cratos follows him. A slight pause would naturally ensue, so that Prometheus might be sure that his enemy had passed beyond the sound of his voice. These intervals enabled the former actor to take his place at some crack or opening behind the lay figure and break Prometheus’ speechlessness (vs. 88). The other actor reappears in a succession of rôles throughout the play, as Oceanus (vs. 284), Io (vs. 561), and Hermes (vs. 944); but these shifts were easily managed.