The Attic theatre

Another piece of archaeological evidence is supplied by the vase-paintings found in the Greek cities of South Italy.[482] Two specimens are here inserted.[483] These paintings, which have already been briefly referred to, belong to the third century B.C. They represent comic scenes acted by the Phlyakes. The Phlyakes were a sort of farcical comedians, whose performances were not unlike those of the oldest Attic comedy. In many of these paintings they are represented as acting on a stage.[484] The stage, in most cases, is obviously made of wood, and varies in character from a rude and simple platform to an erection of some solidity. In one or two instances, however, it is a tall and elaborate structure, apparently built of stone, and adorned with columns in front, just like the proscenia we have been discussing.[485] Often there is a flight of steps leading down to the orchestra.[486] In one case the action is taking place partly on the stage and partly in the orchestra. One of the actors is represented as actually ascending the steps to the stage.[487] This evidence seems to prove beyond a doubt that in the Greek cities of South Italy, during the third century B.C., performances were sometimes given in theatres with a tall stage, and that both stage and orchestra were employed for the purpose, and were connected by steps.

Dörpfeld now admits that this was the case. But he contends that the arrangement was an exceptional one, intended only for the farces of the Phlyakes. For these performances, he allows, wooden stages were erected, and the exhibition took place partly on the stage and partly in the orchestra. But the regular dramas—the tragedies, and the comedies—were performed solely in the orchestra.[488] All this, however, is the purest assumption.[489] There is not a particle of evidence to support it. It is altogether improbable that a different arrangement should have been adopted in the case of these farces, and in the case of the regular drama. Besides this, as we have already pointed out, in one or two of the paintings the stage on which the Phlyakes are performing is apparently a permanent stone erection, and not a mere temporary platform of wood. It seems certain, therefore, that the Greeks of South Italy during the third century B.C. provided a stage for their actors in all dramatic performances; and, this being so, we can hardly doubt that the same was the case in Greece generally.

One or two further objections to the new theory may be briefly mentioned. If we look at the plan of the theatre at Epidaurus (Figs. 6 and 7), it will be found that the stone border of the circular orchestra reaches to within two or three feet of the proscenium. If the actors had performed in front of the proscenium, they would have been sometimes inside the stone border, and sometimes outside of it; and the whole arrangement strikes one as awkward and unsymmetrical. Again, in the theatre at Delos (Fig. 12), statues and other votive offerings were erected immediately in front of the columns of the proscenium. The bases on which they rested still remain.[490] But, if the proscenium had been the background, it is difficult to suppose that this place would have been chosen for such erections. When the proscenium was uncovered by scenery, and represented an ancient palace, these votive offerings and statues would have been altogether inappropriate as a part of the back-scene. When painted decorations were to be set up, they would have formed an inconvenient obstacle in the way of the mechanical arrangements. And if they were required to serve as scenery, why were they only employed at Delos? The probability therefore is that they were a mere architectural decoration of the stage-front.[491]

We have now gone through the principal arguments, literary and archaeological, which demonstrate the existence of a stage during the Hellenistic period. It remains to consider the reasons which induce Dörpfeld, in spite of this apparently overwhelming evidence, to deny the existence of such a stage. And in judging this question we must remember the fact already mentioned, that the chorus, at this time, had ceased to take an active share in the play, and that its functions were hardly more important than those of a band of musicians in a modern theatre. To turn now to Dörpfeld’s reasons. He says, in the first place, that these proscenia of the Vitruvian type would have been too narrow for the performance of a play.[492] But their narrowness has often been exaggerated, owing to inaccurate calculations. None of them, as it now appears, were less than from nine to ten feet in depth.[493] But a stage about ten feet deep, and from fifty to sixty feet long, would be amply sufficient for the performance of a Greek play, when the chorus was confined to the orchestra. The fact has been proved by actual experiment. Most English scholars have probably seen the Greek plays produced in the open-air theatre at Bradfield. The stage there is only ten feet deep and thirty feet long. Yet every one who has been present at one of these performances must admit that there was plenty of room upon the stage. I am informed that on one occasion, in the funeral procession in the Alcestis, as many as sixty people were brought upon the stage at the same time, and without any inconvenient crowding.[494] It is clear then that the Vitruvian stage, which was just as deep and twice as long as that at Bradfield, would have been large enough to accommodate the chorus as well as the actors in an ancient Greek drama, and would have been more than large enough for the performance of a play in which the chorus was practically confined to the orchestra.

Dörpfeld further objects that these Hellenistic proscenia were too high to have served as a stage, since the spectators in the front rows would have been too far below the actors to see the latter properly.[495] It is only in the Asiatic theatres, where the front seats of the auditorium were raised so as to give a good view of the actors, that he will allow that the actors appeared on the high stage; in such cases the height of the seats would make a ten-foot stage virtually equivalent to a five-foot one, such as the Romans employed. But in the first place, we find that at Mantinea also the lowest seats were raised four feet above the orchestra, so that this is not a peculiarity of Asiatic theatres.[496] In the second place, if these proscenia were too high for a stage, they would have been much too low for a background. Their height varied from eight to thirteen feet; and a stage of thirteen feet would be far less of an anomaly than a back-scene of eight feet. Further, it has been shown by Maass[497] that the height of the proscenium varies very regularly with the distance of the proscenium from the central point of the circle of the auditorium. The nearer this point, the lower the stage. The object of this can only have been to accommodate the height of the stage to the view of the audience. It would be inexplicable unless the actors were on the top of the proscenium. It seems also to be proved that in most cases the greater part of the actor’s person would easily be visible from the greater number of seats,[498] including the lowest or front rows. When it was necessary, as it was through the greater part of the fifth century, for chorus and actors to communicate more or less intimately with one another, the stage was lower, and the view from some seats therefore less good; but when the chorus ceased to take a share in the dialogue, it became both possible and natural to raise the height of the stage and so improve the view.

Another objection of Dörpfeld’s is that in the existing proscenia there is no trace of any means of communication between the stage and the orchestra.[499] But we have shown that such communication was seldom required at this time, owing to the insignificance of the chorus; and that, when it was wanted, it was supplied by temporary wooden steps. Dörpfeld replies that, if the stage was thirteen feet high, the steps must have been so large as to project a long way into the orchestra, and produce an unsightly appearance. But this result could have been avoided without difficulty. Where the stage was exceptionally lofty, the steps might have been placed in a parallel line to it. At Tralles, where there is a proscenium of the Graeco-Roman type, and nearly ten feet high, such steps are actually found, lying parallel to the stage, and on each side of the door which leads out from the front wall of the stage into the orchestra.[500] A similar arrangement might easily have been adopted, when necessary, in the Hellenistic theatres.

In support of his theory Dörpfeld brings forward an argument based on the theatre at Megalopolis (Fig. 11). We have already described the peculiar construction of this theatre, in which the Thersilion took the place of the ordinary stage-buildings. In front of the Thersilion, and twenty-four feet distant from it, is the foundation-wall of a wooden proscenium. This proscenium, however, appears to have been of later date than the original theatre. Dörpfeld supposes that, before its erection, the actors performed their parts immediately in front of the Thersilion, and on the level of the orchestra. He bases his belief on the following grounds. The façade of the Thersilion rested on a flight of five steps, each about thirteen inches high. To one side of the Thersilion was a building, apparently called the Skanotheka, and probably used for storing the scenic decorations. In this building are the remains of a low wall, running in the same straight line as the bottom of the flight of steps, and about the same length as the stage must have been. Dörpfeld supposes that this wall was used, in the original state of the theatre, for working a ‘scaena ductilis’. He supposes that, when dramas were to be performed, a wooden scene-painting was pushed out along this wall immediately in front of the lowest step of the Thersilion, and served as a background. The actors in front of it must have been on the floor of the orchestra.[501] But this arrangement appears to be impossible. If the back-scene had been placed in the position he supposes, immediately in front of the steep flight of steps, the representation of dramas would have been little short of ridiculous. The actor entering from the back-scene would have had to come down these steps to reach the threshold of the door. At first little more than his legs would have been seen, at any rate by the spectators in the upper part of the theatre. His whole person would hardly have become visible until he reached the lowest step. For a tragic actor to make his entrance in this way would have been far from dignified. Also, in plays like the Hippolytus and the Alcestis, when a sick woman on a couch had to be carried out, it would have been extremely awkward to have to carry her down a flight of steps as steep as those at Megalopolis. The ekkyklema would, of course, have been quite impossible to work. Again, it seems certain that the supposed ‘scaena ductilis’ would itself be quite unworkable. Is it likely that a huge painted board, more than a hundred feet long and more than twenty-five feet high, was pulled out in front of the Thersilion to serve as a back-scene? The ‘scaena ductilis’ (cf. Serv. ad Verg. Georg. iii. 24), which Dörpfeld thinks was such as has been described, was not a contrivance of this sort, but was a small affair, a variety of the ‘scaena versilis’ or periaktos; it was drawn apart, to disclose a new scene behind, and was not drawn across the stage. Moreover, the construction of ancient theatres, even of those with side-wings, shows that there was no room and no opportunity for the hauling to and fro of huge boards such as Dörpfeld imagines. It is true that much remains obscure in regard to the theatre at Megalopolis; but this solution at least is out of the question.[502] Although, therefore, the Skanotheka at Megalopolis may very likely have been used for the storage of scenery, it is clear that this scenery, when used, cannot have been put up in the place which Dörpfeld suggests.

Another argument against the ordinary theory is based by Dörpfeld on the remains of the theatre at Delos (Fig. 12). We have shown that at Delos the proscenium was continued, though in a different form, round the sides and back of the stage-buildings.[503] Dörpfeld argues that it cannot have been a stage, as it would be absurd to erect a stage all round the stage-buildings.[504] If this is so, we might reply that it cannot have been a background either, since it would be equally absurd to construct a background in the same position. But as a matter of fact there is nothing in the arrangement at Delos which conflicts in any way with the ordinary opinion about the Greek stage. The erection at the sides and the back of the stage-buildings, though of the same height as the erection in front, was different in structure, and formed an open portico. The erection in front was like the usual Hellenistic proscenium, and must have been designed for the same purpose. If the proscenium in other theatres was intended for a stage, it must have been intended for a stage at Delos.

Dörpfeld has a theory about the origin of the Roman stage, which he brings forward as a strong argument in favour of his other views. According to Vitruvius the Roman stage was developed out of the Greek. The difference in size was due to the following reasons. The Romans preferred to give up the orchestra to the spectators and to transfer all performances to the stage. It was necessary, therefore, to deepen the stage, in order to find room for the additional performers. It was also necessary to lower it, in order to allow the spectators in the orchestra to have a clear view.[505] Dörpfeld says that this account of the matter is erroneous. According to his theory the Roman stage was discovered by accident rather than by design. The Romans, when they first began to adapt the Greek theatre to their own purposes, found the orchestra too large, and consequently divided it in two. The half nearest the auditorium they dug out to a depth of five feet, and placed spectators there. The other half they used for theatrical and other performances, just as it had been used by the Greeks. In this way they found that they had got what was practically a stage five feet high; and for the future, instead of digging out the nearer half of the orchestra, they started on the level, and built a raised stage. The Roman stage therefore represents, not the Greek proscenium, but the further half of the Greek orchestra; and this fact proves that it was in the orchestra that the Greek actors performed.[506] This theory is no doubt extremely ingenious. But unfortunately it appears to be inconsistent with the facts of the case. If it was true, we should expect to find the stage in all Roman theatres occupying the site of one half of the Greek orchestra, and the back of the Roman stage corresponding to the front of the Greek proscenium. Now in the normal Roman theatre this is more or less the case. The Romans eventually reduced their orchestra to a semicircle, and brought their stage forward to the position described by Dörpfeld. But the Graeco-Roman theatres of Asia Minor, to which we have already referred, fail entirely to correspond to his hypothesis. These theatres were among the earliest to be built in the Roman fashion, and might therefore be expected, more than any others, to exemplify the process of transition which he describes. But what do we find? We find that the stage, so far from occupying one half of the orchestra, stands in exactly the same position as the old Greek proscenium. The orchestra in these theatres still forms nearly a complete circle. The stage is deepened by pushing the back-scene more into the rear. Further than this, the height of the stage is not five feet, as it ought to be, but from eight to nine feet.[507] These examples seem to prove that Vitruvius is more correct than Dörpfeld in his view of the matter; and that the Roman stage was really a modification of the Greek. When we find in these Asia Minor theatres a Roman stage standing in exactly the same position as the proscenium in the Greek theatres, and differing only in being longer and deeper, and two or three feet lower, we can hardly resist the conclusion that the Greek proscenium was the prototype of the Roman, and that it was intended for the same purpose.

The proscenium in a Greek theatre was called, among other names, the ‘logeion’ or ‘speaking-place’. It is so called by Vitruvius, and the word ‘logeion’ occurs in Delian inscriptions as early as the third century B.C.[508]. This being so, we are naturally led to ask how this fact is to be reconciled with Dörpfeld’s theory. If the proscenium was the background, and not the stage, why should it have been called ‘logeion’ or the speaking-place? Dörpfeld gives the following answer. He says that in Greek tragedies the gods, when exhibited in a supernatural manner, used to make their appearance on the palace roof, or, in other words, on the proscenium; and that it was therefore called the ‘theologeion’, or for shortness the ‘logeion’.[509] But this statement will not bear examination. The usual device for revealing gods in supernatural splendour was the mechane, and not the theologeion. Even when the theologeion was employed, there is no evidence to show that it was identical with the palace roof.[510] The contrivance for enabling actors to stand on the roof of a palace or other building was called the ‘distegia’. Instances of its employment are rare. In the extant dramas there are only eight or nine certain examples.[511] If, therefore, the proscenium really represented the building in the background, the top of it cannot have been called the ‘speaking-place’ because the actors spoke from it. Eight or nine instances out of forty-four dramas are insufficient to justify us in regarding it as a regular speaking-place. The plain statement of Vitruvius, that the ‘pulpitum’ of the actors was in Greek called ‘logeion’, Dörpfeld attempts to get round by supposing that the place which had been the ‘theologeion’, or, more shortly, ‘logeion’—the speaking-place of gods—retained its name by a natural conservatism when employed by actors. This is ingenious; but it is surely far more natural to suppose that it was called ‘logeion’ all along because it was the regular speaking-place for all actors, and not only for occasional gods.[512]

We have now considered the principal arguments which can be brought forward on either side concerning this stage question, as far as it relates to the later period. Some minor points have been omitted; but they would not affect the question very much either way. The result appears to show that, at any rate as far as the later period is concerned, the evidence in favour of a stage altogether outweighs any considerations which can be adduced on the other side.

2. The Earlier Stage. We now come to the earlier and more important period, the period of the fifth century, when the drama was still in reality a choral drama, and the fourth century, during which the chorus was rapidly declining in importance, but was still commonly employed.

For the fourth century we have the testimony of Aristotle. Aristotle in many places speaks of the songs of the actors as τὰ ἀπὸ τῆς σκηνῆς, in opposition to the songs of the chorus, τὰ τοῦ χοροῦ.[513] Further he speaks of the actor’s part as being played ἐπὶ τῆς σκηνῆς.[514] According to the usual interpretation of these passages, he means that the actors played their part ‘upon the stage’, and sang their songs ‘from the stage’. Dörpfeld, however, proposes in these cases to translate the word σκηνή as the ‘background’, and not as the ‘stage’. He supposes Aristotle to mean that the actors performed ‘at the background’, and sang their songs ‘from the background’. He denies that the two expressions imply the existence of a stage.[515] Now the translations which he suggests may be possible, as far as the Greek is concerned. But it is very difficult to believe that they are the right translations in these particular passages of Aristotle. Aristotle’s words seem to clearly imply that there was some essential and conspicuous difference between the position of the actors and that of the chorus.[516] But if, as Dörpfeld thinks, they all performed together in the orchestra, there would be no such distinguishing mark. It is true that the actors might, for the most part, be rather nearer to the stage-buildings; and the chorus might, for the most part, be rather more distant from them. But practically they would be standing in the same place; there would be no pronounced difference. Aristotle’s words appear to be explicable only on the supposition that the actors appeared upon a stage, the chorus in the orchestra.

For the fifth century we have the evidence supplied by the use of certain words in Aristophanes. In three places, where an actor is approaching the back-scene, he is said to ‘mount up’ (ἀναβαίνειν).[517] In two other places, where he is leaving the back-scene, he is said to ‘go down’ (καταβαίνειν).[518] In all these passages there is nothing in the circumstances of the drama to suggest that the action was taking place on raised ground. The expressions can only refer, as the scholiast says, to the stage. It has been proposed to translate the two words as ‘come on’ and ‘depart’ respectively.[519] But such a usage of the terms is otherwise unknown in Greek. Moreover, in one place—the scene in the Knights—this translation is proved to be impossible. Here Demosthenes calls out to the sausage-seller, ‘mount up here’ (ἀνάβαινε δεῦρο). He then shows him the people, the markets, and the harbours; and tells him that he will be lord of all. But this is not enough. He says, ‘you have not seen all yet’, and bids him ‘mount up on to this table also’; and then proceeds to show him the islands round about.[520] These words show conclusively that ἀναβαίνειν must mean ‘mount up’ in the previous passage, and likewise determine the meaning of this word, and of καταβαίνειν, in the parallel passages.

The extant dramas have been carefully ransacked during the last few years,[521] and it is not likely that many new points will now be discovered. Much of the evidence that has been brought forward on both sides of the question is really of little value. It depends upon a too scrupulous and literal interpretation of the text, or upon a forgetfulness of the fact that there is much that is conventional in all dramatic performances. For instance, when old men are approaching the palace, and complain of the steepness of the way, this fact is supposed to be a proof of the existence of a stage.[522] It is suggested that they enter by the orchestra, and that the ascent of which they complain is the ascent on to the stage. But, if this was so, these old men must have timed their entrance very exactly, so as to reach the foot of the stage just when they came to the verses in which they began to grumble about the ascent. And this, combined with the obvious inadequacy of the ascent on to the stage to represent a really fatiguing road, would make the whole proceeding rather ludicrous. It seems more natural to assume that their remarks had no reference to the stage, and that the steepness of which they complain was left to the imagination of the spectators. Then again, the appearances of ghosts and spectres are cited as evidence in favour of a stage. It is said that they could not be made to appear from underground, unless there was a raised platform out of which they ascended. Now there is no doubt that in the later theatre ghosts were made to arise from beneath the earth. Pollux gives a description of the mechanism by which it was done. But there is no certain proof that they made their appearance in this way during the fifth century. It would be unsafe, therefore, to infer anything from these spectral apparitions concerning the structure of the early theatre. Again, there are those scenes in which the chorus might be expected to enter the palace, but fail to do so. For instance, when Medea’s children are being murdered, and call out for help, the chorus, after proposing to rush to their assistance, eventually remain where they are and sing an ode.[523] But it is unnecessary, in this and in similar cases, to explain their inaction by supposing that there was any difficulty in passing from the orchestra to the palace because of the stage which lay between. A sufficient reason is to be found in the fact that, if they had gone into the palace, the scene of action would have been left empty.

It will be best to disregard all evidence of this inconclusive kind, and to confine our attention to those points which really throw light upon the question as to the relative position of actors and chorus during the fifth century. The following facts seem to be established. It is evident that the chorus sometimes entered and sometimes departed through the back-scene. Instances are not very common; there are only about six in the extant dramas.[524] Still, they undoubtedly occur. It is evident, too, that the actors sometimes entered by the orchestra. They must have done so when they entered along with the chorus, and they probably did so when they entered in chariots or wagons.[525] This gives us about seven instances where the actors came in by the orchestra. They may have done so much more frequently. This is a point which will be considered later on. But these seven cases are the only ones for which there is any convincing evidence. On the other hand, it was a common thing for actors and chorus to depart together through the orchestra. Many plays end in this way, such as the Eumenides and the Septem. In Aristophanes it is a favourite form of conclusion for actors and chorus to go off through the orchestra in a joyful procession.[526] The general result then is this, that it was plainly permissible in the fifth century for the chorus to enter or leave by the back-scene, and for the actors to enter or leave by the orchestra; though the last of these practices is the only one of which there are many certain examples. But when we pass on from these entrances and exits, and look at the rest of the play, we find that it is very unusual, during the course of the action, for the chorus to come on the stage, or for the actors to go into the orchestra. The instances in which, apart from entrances and exits, the actors and the chorus can be shown to have come into close physical contact with one another, are remarkably few. We may mention, as examples, the scene in which the chorus tries to prevent Creon from seizing Antigone, and the scene where the farmers mount the stage to draw the statue of Peace out of the well. Opinions may differ as to individual cases, but the total number of instances of this kind does not amount, at the outside, to more than about fifteen.[527] The conclusion we may draw from this evidence is as follows. There was nothing in the fifth century theatre to prevent the actors from moving into the place occupied by the chorus, and there was nothing to prevent the chorus moving into the place occupied by the actors. But, except when they were entering or leaving the scene of action, they do not appear to have done so usually, but to have kept apart from one another.

What then does all this prove as regards the stage? On the one hand, it proves conclusively that the stage of the fifth century cannot have been as high as the ordinary later or Hellenistic stage. If the fifth-century stage had been twelve feet above the level of the orchestra, there would have been the greatest awkwardness in actors and chorus passing from one place to the other. But, on the other hand, it does not in any way exclude the possibility of there having been a stage of some kind or another. If we suppose that the fifth-century stage was lower and deeper than that of later times, and that it was connected with the orchestra by a long flight of steps, or by a sloping ascent, all difficulties about the performance of the extant dramas disappear. Actors and chorus could easily pass from stage to orchestra, or vice versa. The fact that they so seldom came into contact with one another, except when entering or leaving the theatre, is a strong confirmation of the view that there was a stage of some kind, and that it was reserved in most cases for the actors, while the usual place for the chorus was in the orchestra.

The main reason for the employment of a stage must have been to make the actors clearly visible to the audience, and to prevent the view of them being impeded by the chorus in the orchestra. A few feet of elevation would be sufficient to produce this result. Dörpfeld, it is true, denies that any such precaution was necessary. He denies that the actors, even without a stage, would have been hidden from view by the chorus.[528] But if we look at the plan of a Greek theatre, it is clear that if the actors were in the orchestra, and the chorus stood in front of them, the chorus must have obstructed the view of a great many of the spectators. In fact we have ancient testimony to that effect. The tragic chorus stood in three rows. We are told that the worst and most ungainly choristers (the ‘laurostatae’, as they were called) were placed in the middle row, because they were not clearly seen by the spectators.[529] But, however the chorus stood, there could only have been one row between these ‘laurostatae’ and the audience. If, then, the actors had been in the orchestra, with three rows of choristers in front of them, the obstruction to the view would obviously have been very much greater. And it is important to remember that the spectators who would have suffered most by this arrangement would have been the occupants of the lowest tiers of seats. Now these seats were reserved as seats of honour, and were confined to high officials and distinguished citizens. Hence, if Dörpfeld’s theory is correct, the distinction which the Athenians bestowed upon their leading citizens cannot have been one of very much value. The benches which they assigned to them must have been the worst seats for view in the whole theatre.[530]

Dörpfeld further objects that, if we suppose a low stage at Athens in the fifth century, the history of the Greek stage becomes a very fantastic and peculiar affair. We have first a stage of five or six feet, then in the next period it rises to about twelve feet, then later on in the Roman period it suddenly drops to five again. His own theory, he says, is much simpler. There was no stage at all till the Roman period, and then a stage of five feet was erected.[531] But the figures given by Dörpfeld are quite fallacious. There was no sudden rise and fall of the kind he describes. We have no means of determining the exact height of the stage during the fifth century. But when we come to the later period we find that it was not fixed at twelve feet, but varied from eight to thirteen. There was no settled rule. Architects naturally tried new experiments. Different heights were adopted in different places. Probably there was just the same variety and love of experiment in the early period. Again, when we come to the Roman period, we do not find that the height of the stage was suddenly fixed at five feet. In many places it was as much as eight or nine. Wherever we look in the history of the Greek theatre, we perceive a gradual transition from one type of stage to another; and the reasons for the successive changes are generally to be explained by the varying circumstances of the contemporary drama.

The archaeological evidence on the subject of the early stage has already been discussed.[532] Unfortunately it amounts to very little. The oldest stage-buildings, being made of wood, have disappeared without leaving any trace behind them. However, such evidence as can be obtained tends to confirm the testimony of the dramas themselves, and to show that the stage of the fifth century was lower and deeper than that of subsequent times. There is also this point to be taken into consideration. The existence of a lofty stage during the Hellenistic period and perhaps from the fourth century onwards appears to be now proved by irresistible testimony. This being so, it is altogether improbable on general grounds that there should have been no stage at all during the preceding period. To suppose that the Greeks began without any stage of any kind, and then after so long a time suddenly erected a stage about twelve feet high, is a most unlikely hypothesis. But if we imagine that a stage existed from the first, and that it was a low one in the fifth century, and was then gradually raised in consequence of the changed character of the drama, the process becomes much more intelligible. The presence of a stage during the later period is strong presumptive evidence in favour of an earlier one.[533]

The last few years have been prolific in new theories on the subject of the stage. Most of them may be regarded as developments or modifications of Dörpfeld’s views. Before leaving this subject it may be well to give a brief account of the more important of them. Bethe considers that there can no longer be any doubt as to the existence of the Hellenistic stage. He also agrees that the passages in Aristophanes prove the use of a low stage at the time when Aristophanes wrote. But for the greater part of the fifth century he denies its existence. He considers that the first Greek stage was erected in 427 or in 426, and that this date was an important epoch in the development of the theatre. He founds his belief on the fact that after this date there is no further instance of the use of the ekkyklema, while before this date there is no example of the use of the mechane, the theologeion, and the drop-scene.[534] But, in the first place, it is by no means clear why the presence or absence of these contrivances should involve the existence or non-existence of a stage. In the second place, his dates are open to question. There is no proof, as we shall see later on, that the machinery which he mentions was introduced or discontinued at the time specified. Another theory has been put forward by Weissmann. He, too, accepts the Hellenistic stage, but agrees with Dörpfeld that in the fifth century actors and chorus performed on the same level. However, he thinks that the passages in which old men complain of the steepness of the road prove that there must have been a raised platform which they had to ascend. As one of these passages—that in the Hercules Furens—is spoken by the chorus, he comes to the conclusion that there was a large platform for actors and chorus combined. This platform extended from the back-scene over a considerable part of the orchestra, and on it stood the actors and chorus, both on the same level.[535] To this it may be answered, that the evidence on which he relies is far too slight a justification for such a sweeping hypothesis. Also on general grounds it is inconceivable that the Greeks, when they already possessed an orchestra which was admirably adapted for choral performances, should have taken the trouble to erect a huge platform on the top of it. Christ agrees in the main with Weissmann. He accepts the Hellenistic stage for the later period, and also the platform for the chorus in the orchestra during the fifth century. But he thinks the passages in Aristophanes prove that the actors even then stood higher than the chorus. He therefore supposes two stages: one immediately before the back-scene, for the actors; and another larger and lower one in the orchestra, for the use of the chorus.[536] He thus eventually comes round to the same conclusion as Wieseler, though by a very different process. His theory, however, is open to the same objections as that of Weissmann. This orchestral platform is utterly improbable in itself, and is unsupported by any sufficient evidence. Lastly, there is Robert’s hypothesis. Robert denies the existence of a stage during the fifth century; but supposes that one was erected in the course of the fourth century for the performance of new plays, in which there was practically no chorus. Henceforth new plays were acted on the stage, old plays in front of it, in the orchestra.[537] But it is impossible to suppose that in the same theatre, and at the same festival, the proscenium should have served at one time as a stage, and at another time as a background. Nor is there anything in the ancient authorities to support such a view.

§ 14. Various Details.

To return to the subject of the construction of the theatre in general. It is obvious that, considering the enormous size of the building, and the immense numbers of spectators which it was intended to accommodate, the greatest attention must have been bestowed upon its acoustic properties. Vitruvius is most emphatic upon the necessity of keeping this object in view, when choosing a site for a theatre. The situation against the side of a hill, and the gentle and symmetrical upward slope of the tiers of seats, are mentioned as qualities by which acoustic excellence was ensured. The height of the stage-buildings was also of great importance. It was found that the best results were obtained by making them exactly the same height as the uppermost parts of the auditorium.[538] That this was the ordinary practice during the Roman period is proved by the remains of various theatres, such as those of Aspendos and Orange. But whether, at any time during the Greek period, stage-buildings were constructed on this enormous scale is very doubtful. Another matter on which the ancient architects insisted was the wooden flooring of the stage, which tended to make the voices of the actors more audible. When Alexander the Great wished to have a stage built entirely of bronze, it was pointed out to him that this material would be fatal from the acoustic point of view.[539] Vitruvius mentions a peculiar practice which was adopted for the purpose of adding resonance to the voices of the actors. Hollow vessels of bronze, of different tones, were suspended in niches in various parts of the auditorium. When a sound was uttered of the same tone as that of any of the vessels, its resonance was increased. He states that this custom, though not adopted in Rome, existed in many Greek and Italian theatres; and that Mummius, after his capture of Corinth, brought back several of these vessels from the theatre there.[540] In the remains of the existing theatres no traces are to be found of the niches he describes. It is probable that the whole plan was merely an experiment adopted in a few special cases. As far as Athens was concerned, no such extraneous assistance to the voice was necessary. Experiments at the present day have shown that the acoustic properties of the theatre of Dionysus are excellent; and this must have been still more the case when the stage-buildings were standing. Probably therefore, in spite of the vast numbers of the audience, the persons in the back rows could hear the words spoken in the orchestra and upon the stage much more clearly than might at first have been supposed.

Another point mentioned by Vitruvius in connexion with the theatre is the advantage of erecting porticoes in the rear of the stage-buildings, to serve as a shelter for the people in case of a sudden shower of rain, and also for the convenience of the choregi. He adds that at Athens there were three buildings close to the theatre, which served admirably for this purpose. These were the Odeion, the temple of Dionysus, and the Portico of Eumenes.[541] The Odeion here referred to was that built by Pericles, which probably stood on the eastern side of the theatre, though its exact site has not yet been determined with certainty.[542] The temple of Dionysus mentioned by Vitruvius is apparently the older of the two temples, marked t in the plan, and lying to the south-west of the stage-buildings. The Portico of Eumenes is supposed to have been built by Eumenes II, in the beginning of the second century, and it is thought that traces of it are to be found stretching westwards from the theatre.[543] Immediately to the south of the stage-buildings are the foundations of a long rectangular erection, belonging to the same date as the stage-buildings themselves, and marked s in the plan. This erection was no doubt a portico, built in the fourth century for the purpose described by Vitruvius. In the theatre itself there was no protection for the general mass of the people either from the sun or from the rain. The huge canvas awnings, suspended upon masts, which the Latin writers refer to, were an invention of the Italians, and were only adopted in Greek theatres at a very late period.[544]

The interior of the theatre at Athens was decorated with the statues of various public persons, some distinguished, others not. In the time of Lycurgus bronze statues were erected in honour of Aeschylus, Sophocles, and Euripides.[545] Pausanias mentions that in his time there were several statues of dramatic poets in the theatre, but, with the exception of Sophocles, Euripides, and Menander, they were all very obscure individuals.[546] The base of Menander’s statue, with an inscription recording his name and the name of the sculptor, has been discovered near the western parodos. Its original site, however, is unknown.[547] Astydamas, the tragic poet, was voted a statue in the theatre on account of the excellence of his tragedy called Parthenopaeus. He wrote an epigram to be inscribed upon the base, regretting that he had not been born in the time of the great tragic writers, so as to be able to compete with worthy antagonists. The Athenians were so disgusted with his conceit, that they refused to allow the epigram to be inscribed, and the expression, ‘to praise one’s self like Astydamas,’ passed into a proverb.[548] The statue of Astydamas originally stood at the inside corner of the auditorium on the western side, and there was probably a corresponding statue on the eastern side.[549] One of the grammarians says that there were also statues of Themistocles and Miltiades in the theatre, each with a captured Persian standing beside him. But his statement is probably a fiction, invented to explain the passage on which he was commenting, and which he misunderstood.[550] In later times, it is stated, a statue of Eurycleides the conjuror was erected in the theatre.[551] It is probable that during the reign of Hadrian thirteen statues of him were placed in the thirteen different blocks of the auditorium. The inscriptions on the bases of four of these statues have been found in the existing remains of the theatre.[552] In addition to the statues, various votive offerings were erected in the two side-entrances. Many of the bases were still in their original position when the theatre was first excavated, but they have now mostly disappeared. Four of them, however, still remain. One of them supported the memorial erected by Xenocles in 306, to commemorate his services as Agonothetes. The other three belong to the Roman period.[553] There were also various inscriptions and tablets connected with theatrical affairs. A copy of the decree of the Amphictyonic Council, conferring certain privileges upon the Athenian actors, was inscribed on stone and put up in the theatre.[554] Numerous records of dramatic and dithyrambic contests were erected either in the theatre or in the immediate neighbourhood. There were lists of the victors in all the competitions at the Lenaea and the City Dionysia. There were lists of all the tragedies and comedies ever produced in the theatre at Athens. There were lists of all the poets and actors who had competed there, with the number of their victories appended to each name. An account of these various records has already been given at the end of the first chapter.

Before concluding this description of the theatre of Dionysus it may be interesting to give some account of the various other purposes for which it was used at different times, in addition to its primary object as a place for dramatic representations and contests of dithyrambic choruses. The recitations of the rhapsodists, and the competitions between the harp-players, were also transferred to the same place from the Odeion, in which they had been held previously.[555] Besides this, various ceremonies unconnected with art took place in the theatre during the festivals of Dionysus. Those which took place at the commencement of the City Dionysia have already been mentioned.[556] The annual cock-fight in commemoration of the Persian invasion was also held in the theatre.[557] But the most important of the non-dramatic purposes for which the theatre came to be used was that of a meeting-place for the assemblies of the people. In the fifth and fourth centuries the regular place of assembly was the Pnyx. But already at a very early period special assemblies used to be held in the theatre after each festival of Dionysus, to discuss matters connected with the festival.[558] These semi-religious meetings probably paved the way for the later practice of holding ordinary meetings there. As early as the year 411, on the occasion of the overthrow of the Four Hundred, Thucydides mentions that an assembly of the people was held in the theatre.[559] It was in the theatre that the meeting was convened which condemned Phocion and his friends to death in 317 B.C.[560] In 295 Demetrius, after capturing the city, summoned a gathering of the people in the theatre.[561] These meetings were all of a special character, and were not regular assemblies of the people; but they served as precedents for the use of the theatre for political, as opposed to religious and artistic, purposes. Similarly, we are told on the authority of Aristotle that the Ephebi received their shields and spears from the state at assemblies of the people in the theatre.[562] After the middle of the third century the theatre became the regular meeting-place. The Pnyx henceforward was only used for assemblies for the election of magistrates.[563] In this later period the theatre was also used for various exhibitions which seemed unworthy of its character as a temple of Dionysus. Sword-swallowers, conjurors, and exhibitors of puppet-shows are mentioned among the entertainers who occupied the stage which had formerly been dignified by Euripides.[564] But the greatest degradation which the theatre at Athens ever suffered was when, under the influence of Roman custom, it was given up to gladiatorial combats. This was a pollution which called forth indignant protests from writers such as Philostratus and Dion Chrysostom.[565]