Continuing our journey toward the Acropolis we passed the ruins of the Theatre of Bacchus; we reserved it for another day, but I may as well dispose of it here. According to some authorities it could contain thirty thousand spectators, and for a long time it was the scene of the representations of the principal works of Eschylus, Sophocles, Euripides, and other famous writers of Greek drama. The stage and auditorium were built of marble and limestone, and decorated in the highest style of magnificence known to that period. The width of the stage was about eighty feet, and the diameter of the theatre on the upper rows of seats was nearly five hundred feet. There were twenty-five tiers of seats, and there were twelve passage-ways leading through them, so that an audience could be quickly assembled or as quickly dispersed. Till within a few years the whole theatre was covered with rubbish; excavations have been carried on at the expense of the King of Prussia and other crowned heads, and latterly by the Archaeological Society of Athens, so that the most of this ancient temple of the drama has been exposed to view.
Statues and fragments lie around in great profusion. In the centre of the stage there is a small hut—the domicile of an old soldier who has charge of the ruins, and presents an open hand for whatever “backsheesh” the visitor chooses to give him. The seats in the foremost range were beautifully sculptured in marble, and were evidently very comfortable places to occupy during the performance. There are fifty of these seats, and the names engraved on them show that they belonged to the priests and other high dignitaries of Athens.
The priest of Bacchus had the post of honor in the centre; his seat is larger and more elaborately sculptured than the rest and is raised a few inches higher. Behind this row there are three rows which were occupied by the magistrates and similar dignitaries, and behind these were the seats of the general public.
Between the auditorium and the stage there is an open space which was occupied by the orchestra. Not a single musician was there at the time of our visit, and not an actor or danseuse could be found anywhere about the place. All! all! were gone, and in their place a single Greek, ancient but modern, soliciting something to keep him from starving. The theatre was on the southeastern slope of the Acropolis; the stage was at the foot of the hill and the auditorium extended up the slope. From here a foot path extends along the base of the hill, and rises pretty steeply in places till it reaches a gate by the side of a modern dwelling occupied by the custodians of the ruins.
The gate is strong and high, and the lock is sufficiently powerful to defy the assaults of anybody who has not been educated either as a locksmith or burglar. We passed under the eye of a custodian as we entered, and he followed us at a respectful distance to see that we did no damage. The instructions to these custodians are the most sensible I have known anywhere in places of this kind. They do not keep with you and cause annoyance by telling you what to look at, and hurrying you through faster than you want to go. All that pleasing duty is left to the guide whom you have brought from the hotel. The government knows that he will be a sufficient nuisance for all practical purposes, and consequently the custodians keep always from five to fifty yards away from you; they let you wander where you please and do what you please, as long as you do not injure anything. They never speak to you unless you attempt to play the vandal; we didn’t learn by experience what they, would do in that case, but were told that an offender is likely to be severely treated.
A young Englishman, a few years ago, in sheer mischief, broke the nose from one of the finest statues in the collection at the Acropolis. He was arrested on the spot, and had three months in a Greek prison, in which he made up his mind not to do so anymore. He hasn’t gone around smashing marble noses since his release. And, in addition to his imprisonment, he had to pay a heavy fine, which was applied to the fund for keeping the ruins in proper repair.
We spent the afternoon on the Acropolis, studying it in its general features and listening to the monotonous drawl of our guide, as he described the various temples and other structures whose remains covered the summit of the hill. From the wall at the southern extremity we had a fine view of Athens, and looked down on the city, lying like a map beneath our feet.