Here at least one has adequate evidence that the vase painter did not paint an unknown scene, even though he did prefer to call his figure Οἶστρος[302].
The shade of Aetes[303], a pure invention of the artist, has been held to refer to a post-Euripidean tragedy. One finds such pedantic ingenuity used in explaining this figure that the would-be-learnedness borders upon the ridiculous. It is affirmed, for example, that somewhere it must have been stated for the vase painter that Aetes had died since Medeia left him[304]. How far, pray, did vase painters concern themselves about such points of chronology or sequence of events? We have already pointed out in regard to these artists that they introduced and omitted characters just as they chose; and especially is this true in regard to such side-figures as Aetes is here. Then again, why is any literary source necessary to prove the old man’s death? It was but the natural course of events that the painter followed when he concluded that Aetes was among the shades. It is absurd to require some proof that the unlucky king had, within the long period of Medeia’s absence, passed into the world of spirits. It seems to me that there are two views that can adequately explain this addition to the picture, and with either one in mind the vase painter would have needed no post-Euripidean work or painting but simply the Medeia tragedy to inspire him.
Robert[305] pointed to vs. 31 ff. of the prologue as furnishing perhaps the suggestion for this figure, but that is but a small part of the whole suggestion, and it is well to follow this note which recurs in many places, and is, to my mind, a very important part of the Euripidean conception of Medeia. I give herewith the various places where this element may be discovered.
These repeated allusions to her father and her former home seem to me to express in a strong manner what the painter chose to develop into the ghost-figure. Aetes appears here to behold the retribution that is overtaking Jason; and his participation in the fearful tragedy emphasizes the secret power in Medeia, her sorcery, and her chariot. The artist read between the lines and discovered the spirit of the poet, and this he has successfully reproduced. A similar instance was noted in the liberty assumed by Botticelli in including Beatrice in the second plate to the Inferno[306].
In the second place the εἴδωλον emphasizes the barbaric element in the Medeia-Jason history, and impresses the beholder with the workings of barbarism versus Hellenism. This chord is, moreover, continuously struck by Euripides[307]. The poet endeavours from first to last to keep up the keenest distinction between Greece and Kolchis, between Jason’s family and that of Aetes.
There was, moreover, an opportunity, in introducing this oriental king, to add features strikingly characteristic of the Apulian vase paintings[308]. The elegance and display of costume peculiar to the Persian and Asia Minor kings were attractive for an artist, and the introduction of Aetes’ shade was a happy invention that went far towards making the deeper meaning of the poet plain.
The deities, who, as spectators, are an important part of the paintings on so many Lower Italy vases, are arranged in the upper section. They need not have any particular connexion with the incidents before them. The Olympian sympathy with earthly affairs was a favourite theme with the artists of the time, and a satisfactory number of participating divinities is usually added where important events occur. Herakles and Athena seem to be but indifferently interested in what is happening below them, although the former was intimately associated with the Argonautic expedition[309], and the latter was the promoter of the enterprise[310]. The Dioskouroi, who likewise took a large part in the adventures of the voyage, are fitly represented here[311]. They are, however, giving no heed to the tragedy. It is enough if the painter has recalled for us the famous voyage and shown us the prelude, as it were, to the drama played in the two lower sections. The panorama of Jason and Medeia’s life together passes before us in distinct scenes. By painting the participants in the expedition and also the shade of Aetes the artist has heightened the effect of the double tragedy which the poet made famous.
Such is the painting on this celebrated amphora, which I do not hesitate to call Euripidean.
Another monument which also shows Kreusa’s death is a vase from Pomarico, now in Naples[312].
Fig. 24.
Kreusa has fallen from the θρόνος that occupies the middle of the scene, and in a half-sitting posture upon the floor endeavours to remove the head-dress. Before her is the open box in which the presents were brought. A mirror hangs on the wall. She is dressed in the Ionic chiton with mantle; has earrings and one bracelet. She stares at Kreon, who hurries toward her with outstretched right hand. He has the sceptre in the left hand, is bearded, bald, and wears a chiton which has slipped down to his waist. To the left a female figure rushes away en face, and, watching Kreusa, makes the gestures of one terror-stricken. She is dressed like the latter except the earrings and necklace. Jahn called her a companion of Kreusa, considering that if she were Merope of the Munich vase she would be approaching her daughter and not leaving her. I prefer to see in this figure one of the attendants who in vs. 1177 ff. spread the news. It is true that the appearance of the figure is that of a more important personage than a servant. The latter are not usually represented wearing jewellery and fine costumes, and yet the attendant on the Munich vase, who is endeavouring to divert the pedagogue, is quite as richly dressed. In the present instance, however, the drawing is very careless and the workmanship is of an inferior sort. I believe, therefore, that the artist either did not know the fitness of things, or else took no pains to indicate that this figure was a servant or attendant. When he had once drawn such a miserable king as Kreon is, hobbling along in a ridiculous manner, he might well have slipped into the other extreme of painting a nurse in a lady’s garb. The scene is based upon the messenger’s speech, vs. 1176 ff.
The pedagogue on the right, who is hurrying away the two boys wrapped in cloaks, is a reminiscence of vs. 1157 ff. where the father, Jason, goes away with them.
The winged Fury sitting in the upper right-hand corner observing the scene might well be expected as a spectator. The suggestion for her may be found in
The murder of the boys inside of the palace is painted on a Nolan amphora in the Cabinet des Médailles in Paris[313]. Medeia in Greek dress and Phrygian cap has slain one boy, who lies over the altar, either extremity touching the floor. She stands, en face, with the other child grasped fast by the hair. This hand also holds the sword. In her left, stretched out behind the altar, is the sheath. The artist doubtless had in mind the words which the chorus heard in vs. 1271 ff.—
In the upper right-hand corner the pedagogue appears, carrying an oil-cruse in his left hand. His right is raised to his head. A wreath and two fillets point to the sanctuary.
Fig. 25.
Another Canosa vase in Naples[314], although furnishing a free handling of Medeia’s escape, is still an important witness for the chariot and its actual appearance in the production of the tragedy. In this particular the painting is Euripidean.
Medeia in rapid flight upon her dragon-chariot holds the reins in her left hand and the corner of her mantle in the right. Her dress is the customary one for charioteers. On the ground by the wheels one boy lies dead; the other is said to be visible on the original, inside of the chariot as on the sarcophagi. The sword is also on the ground. She is pursued by three youths, one on horseback, Jason (?), and two on foot. They all carry spears, and each has a chlamys. The middle one also wears a pilos and has a shield. In front of the chariot is Lyssa (?) with a sword in the right hand, and staff or κέντρον (?) in the left. She has an Artemis costume with a mantle. Galloping ahead to lead the way is Selene, seated as usual on her horse.
The painting is poorly preserved, but the main part is sufficiently plain. The artist followed the traditional manner of Medeia’s flight.
The Phoinissai in common with the Septem of Aischylos deals with the well-known story of the attack of Polyneikes and his supporters on Thebes. The events connected with this war can be traced all through Greek and Roman literature and art[315]. We have here to do with a relief cup, which illustrates Euripides’ version of the combat. It possesses, like the other ‘Megarian Bowls’ discussed in the present work, a value so unique for the study of our poet that it may stand beside any vase painting in assisting us in the study of the drama’s influence upon art.
Fig. 26 (vid. p. 170 f.).
The cup shown in fig. 27 is of red, unglazed ware, and is said to have been found in Thebes[316]. The following figures may be discerned. On the left Teiresias, ΤΕΙΡΕΣΙΑΣ, carrying a bough and led by his daughter Manto, ΜΑΝΤΩ, approaches Kreon, ΚΡΕΩΝ, who kneels before the aged seer. They are both bearded, and the latter wears a long chiton. Next follows Polyneikes, ΠΟΛΥΝΕΙΚΗΣ, and Eteokles, ΕΤΕΟΚΛΗΣ, in full armour, engaged in their fatal fight. Thebe, ΘΗΒΗ, holding in her hand a sceptre, sits upon a rock watching the sight. The messenger, ΑΓΓΕΛΟΣ, wearing a short chiton and chlamys, stands by Iokaste, ΙΟΚ ... ΣΤΗ, before the palace from which Antigone, ΑΝΤΙΓΟΝΗ, has come. The latter raises her hand in astonishment. The women both wear long chitons. Lastly, on the right, Antigone appears before Kreon, inscriptions in each case, in a supplicating attitude.
That Kreon might know definitely how matters were to terminate, he had sent for Teiresias. The latter makes his appearance in v. 834—
Fig. 27 (vid. p. 173 ff.).
and so one sees him here before Kreon. His daughter has brought him as he wished, and now stands behind him, while the seer discloses the terrible misfortune which must visit Kreon before success can crown the Theban arms. The son Menoikeus, who is present in Euripides, has been left out of the group. The messenger soon appears and calls for Iokaste.
She does hear, and comes from the palace and learns everything about the attack thus far, and how the different heroes on each side were armed. To her special inquiry regarding her two sons the messenger replies in detail (vs. 1217 ff.).
But this is before the battle. They were waiting for the word from the priests who examined the entrails of the victims. The second messenger brings the account of the engagement proper, and this is what the artist seized upon[317].
This is the moment which the relief represents. Their spears have clashed, and each is still safe behind the good circumference of his shield.
Iokaste, much disturbed at the critical situation described by the messenger, determines to call Antigone and rush to the battle-field to reconcile the brothers,—
she cries, and Antigone at once appears and asks—
The situation is dramatically told on the vase. The palace doors are still open, and Antigone stands astonished before her mother.
No sooner has Kreon learned the result of the battle than he passes an edict banishing the blind Oedipus from the land. The faithful daughter comes to intercede for her father and the scene is described in vs. 1539–1682. The artist has seized upon this situation, but has omitted Oedipus. Antigone bows before the new king, who stands with his arms folded listening placidly to the supplications.
This is the moment which the last group represents.
The personification of Thebes occupying the central field and presiding, as it were, over the destinies of the capital, extends the setting of the poet and adds not a little to the interest of the picture.
Fig. 28
There exists, remarkable enough, a small fragment of another cup, which must have been much like the one just discussed. It is shown in fig. 28, and joins on well to the last scene in fig. 27, filling out the gap made by the omission of Oedipus[318]. We see the stooping and aged figure of the former king, in long chiton, feeling his way along or being led by some one. The inscription renders everything plain. Οἰδίπ]ους κελεύει [ἄγειν πρὸς τὸ π]τῶμα τῆς αὑτοῦ μητρ[ός τε καὶ] γυναικὸς καὶ τῶν υίῶ[ν. The unfortunate Oedipus’ doom is sealed, and he enters with Antigone upon his permanent banishment, but he will be led to Iokaste that he may embrace her once more, even though she is now a corpse;
At this moment the artist conceived his figure, and that one might not mistake its meaning he wrote above it who the person was and what the scene meant. Here, then, in this bit of potsherd, one can see and study the workings of that awful curse which blasted the house of Labdakos and sent the miserable Oedipus to wander ‘blind amidst the blaze of noon.’
There remains still a number of vase paintings that have been referred to certain of Euripides’ extant plays. It will be seen that I have not been able to convince myself of their Euripidean character, and have therefore not included them in the number of published paintings. The following list gives the most important vases of this class. No discussion accompanies them, as they seem to me to present difficulties that preclude their relation to extant tragedies.
1. Etruscan amphora, no. 728 in the Cabinet des Médailles, Paris. Pub. as frontispiece to Dennis’ Cities and Cemeteries of Etruria, vol. ii. = Arch. Ztg. 1863, pl. 180. 3.
1. Amphora, Brit. Mus., cat. iii. E 155. Pub. Raoul-Rochette, Mon. inéd. pl. 40. 2; cf. Vogel, Scen. eur. Trag. p. 141 f., and Arch. Ztg. 1880, p. 189.
1. Slender Campanian amphora, Berlin. Pub. Arch. Anz. 1890, p. 90, no. 7; cf. loc. cit. The interpretation given explains the scene as representing Orestes slaying Aigisthos. This was done, however, not at a sanctuary or in the open, as here, but in the palace where Aigisthos, Orestes, and Pylades were engaged in the slaughtering of oxen. At v. 790 they had entered the palace.
1. The Assteas vase in Madrid. Pub. Wiener Vorlegeblätter, ser. B, pl. 1 = Mon. d. Inst. viii. 10; cf. Hirzel, Annali d. Inst. 1864, p. 323 ff.: Körte, Ueber Personificationen psychologischer Affekte, p. 18 f., and Vogel, op. cit. p. 143.
1. Amphora. Attic fabric, cir. 420 B.C. Berlin, vid. Arch. Anz. 1890, p. 89.
2. Lekythos from Paestum, now in Naples, no. 2900. Pub. Reinach-Millingen, Peintures, 41 = Élite Céram. iv. 87.
1. Nolan vase in Cassel. Pub. Arch. Ztg. 1852, pl. 37; cf. Furtwängler, Sammlung Sabouroff, Vasen, Einleitung, p. 14, note 12; Vogel, op. cit. p. 145.
2. Painting on a fourth cent. krater. Pub. Élite Céram. ii. 76 a; cf. Furtwängler, op. cit. p. 14.
3. An Oxybaphon in the Louvre. Pub. Élite Céram. ii. 88 a = Reinach-Millin. op. cit. i. 46 = Müller-Wieseler, Denkmäler d. a. Kunst. ii. 142; cf. Furtwängler, loc. cit.
1. Lucanian krater, Brit. Mus., cat. iv. F 159. Pub. Overbeck, Bildwerke, pl. 14. 9 = Wiener Vorlegeblätter, ser. 5, pl. 9. 3 = Inghirami, Vasi fitt. iii. pl. 251; cf. Vogel, op. cit. p. 116.
The following list includes most of the paintings referred to the lost tragedies. Where it has seemed to me doubtful about the Euripidean character of the scenes I have preferred to omit mention of them altogether.
1. Canosa hydria in Bari. The shoulder decoration only is pub. Arch. Ztg. 1883, pl. 7. 1; cf. p. 51 ff. and Furtwängler, Masterpieces, p. 109. The latter thinks the painting is from the fifth cent. B.C. Vid. also Vogel, op. cit. p. 28 ff.
1. Bell-shaped krater, signed by Python now in the Brit. Mus., cat. iv. F 149. Pub. J. H. S. 1890, pl. 6; cf. ibid. p. 225 ff.
2. Amphora from Capua. Brit. Mus., cat. iv. F 193. Pub. Annali d. Inst. 1872, pl. A. Cf. ibid. p. 1 ff. On both paintings Alkmene sitting on an altar appeals to Zeus against Amphitryon. Cf. Vogel, op. cit. p. 34.
1. Krater from Capua. Berlin, no. 3237. Cf. Arch. Anz. 1893, p. 91, f. no. 50. Pub. and discussed by Bethe, Jahrbuch, 1896, p. 292 ff. and pl. 2; cf. Bethe’s Prolegomena zur Geschichte des Theaters im Altertum, p. 320, 330, and p. 35 above.
2. Amphora from Canosa. Naples, no. 3225. Pub. Minervini, Memorie accademiche, pl. 1–3; cf. Vogel, p. 39.
3. Amphora in Naples, no. 708, Museo S. Angelo. Pub. Mon. d. Inst. ix. 38; cf. Annali d. Inst. 1872, p. 108 f., and Vogel, op. cit. p. 41.
4. Hydria from Anzi in the Basilicata. Brit. Mus., cat. iv. F 185; cf. Vogel, p. 42. C.
1. Ruvo amphora. Jatta coll. no. 423. Pub. Arch. Ztg. 1871, pl. 40. 2, and by Heydemann, Ueber eine nacheuripideische Tragödie, 1868, pl. 1, and Mon. d. Inst. x. 26, 27. Polychrome view of whole vase on pl. 26 = Rayet et Collignon, Histoire de la Céramique grecque, pl. 12, p. 300.
2. Apulian amphora. Berlin, no. 3240. Pub. Gerhard, Apulische Vasenbilder, xi = Arch. Ztg. 1871, pl. 40. 1. Cf. Heydemann, op. cit. and Klügmann, Annali d. Inst. 1876, p. 173 ff., and Vogel, op. cit. p. 50 ff.
3. Fragment of Apulian amphora in Carlsruhe; Winnefeld’s Beschreibung der Vasensammlung, p. 62 f. Pub. Arch. Ztg. 1884, pl. 19. b = Wiener Vorlegeblätter, ser. E. 6. 3. Cf. Winckler in Aus der Onomia, p. 149 ff.
1. Apulian krater found near Syracuse. Berlin, no. 3296. Pub. Arch. Ztg. 1878, pl. 7 and 8; cf. ibid. p. 42 ff, and Robert, Bild und Lied, p. 36; Vogel, p. 60 f.
1. Ruvo amphora. Pub. Mon. d. Inst. iv. 21 = Wiener Vorlegeblätter, ser. viii, pl. 8. 1. Cf. Annali d. Inst. 1845, p. 227.
1. Ruvo amphora. Naples, no. 1769. Pub. Overbeck, Bildwerke, 1. 2.
2. Apulian amphora. Berlin, no. 3239. Pub. Overbeck, op. cit. 1. 1.
3. An abridgement of the foregoing. Pub. Wiener Vorlegeblätter, ser. 6, II. 2 = Roscher’s Lexikon, i. p. 903; cf. Vogel, op. cit. p. 137 f.
1. Lasimos amphora in the Louvre. Pub. Reinach-Millin, Peintures, ii. 37 = Overbeck, op. cit. pl. 28. 1. Cf. Vogel, p. 98 f.
2. Ruvo amphora. Naples, no. 3255. Pub. Overbeck, Bildwerke, pl. 4. 3 = Baumeister, Denkmäler, i. p. 114; cf. Vogel, p. 99 f.
3. Ruvo amphora. St. Petersburg, no. 523. Pub. Overbeck, op. cit. pl. 4. 2; cf. Vogel, loc. cit.
1. Apulian amphora. Naples, Mus. S. Angelo, no. 11, A. Pub. Arch. Ztg. 1867, pl. 220.
1. Krater in Naples, No. 1891. Pub. Annali d. Inst. 1874, pl. A.
2. Krater in St. Petersburg, no. 427. Pub. Inghirami, Vasi fitt. i. pl. 1–3; cf. Engelmann in Annali, 1874, p. 35 f., and Vogel, op. cit. p. 85 f.
1. Hydria in Naples. Heydemann, Raccolta Cumana, no. 141. Pub. Arch. Ztg. 1857, pl. 106.
2. Tischbein, Vases d’Hamilton, ii. 6; cf. Jahn, Telephos und Troilos, p. 44, and Vogel, op. cit. p. 89 ff.