by Thomas; Kohn
At line 867, Cassandra speaks, a soliloquy to no one in particular, but certainly not to the Chorus. Like Aeschylus’ Cassandra, she “sees” the slaughter of Agamemnon as it occurs within the palace. In fact, she not only can see the murder, but the sensations are so vivid that she feels that she is actually there (video et intersum, 873). Furthermore, she rejoices in the deed (et fruor, 873), perhaps because the conqueror of Troy lies dead, perhaps because it foreshadows her own death and deliverance from the wretchedness that her life has become, or perhaps because she still feels a degree of joy in being possessed by Apollo. But even though her visions give her some joy, she is horrified and trembles deep within her soul (horreo atque animo tremo, 883). Cassandra falls silent at line 909; but she will be addressed at 1001 and speak again at 1004. Further, she would not go to town or to the harbor; and if she were to go into the palace, it is doubtful that she would get out alive. So she does not exit. Instead, she withdraws, either to the side or more likely to the Chorus, seeking comfort from her fellow slave women.
A young woman (actor D) enters through the center doors at line 910. She is accompanied by a mute actor, portraying a young boy, whom she addresses. She calls him her brother (germane, 914), and refers to “the death of our father” (paternae mortis auxilium unicum, 910), thus making them Electra and Orestes. This is confirmed as the episode goes on (Oresta, 917 and 933, Oresten, 931, and Electra, 924). At line 913, actor A, later self-identified as Strophius (Strophius, 918), king of Phocis and uncle to Electra and Orestes, enters through the wing leading to the forum. He is accompanied by a mute actor portraying a young boy, namely his son, Pylades (Pylade, 941). They ride the exostra decorated like a chariot (quis iste celeres concitus currus agit? 913)47 and drawn by horses. It is most likely that the horses are not, in fact, represented. There could be some kind of model horses, or perhaps mute dancers pretending to be horses.48 The big difficulty, however, would be how to turn the chariot around so the horses could be in front as the exostra is dragged offstage at the end of the episode. Simply accepting the convention that there ought to be horses since Strophius says that there are, and that sensibly they should be in front of the chariot, whichever direction it happens to be moving, should have been enough for an ancient audience. This mechanism must be big enough to hold three people, and allow access for the silent Orestes to either climb aboard, or be lifted by Electra. Strophius wears a victory wreath that he boasts to have won at the games at Elea (Elea inclutus palma, 918–19).49 Electra, frantic (anime demens, 915), as well as fearful (times, 915) and wanting to flee (refugis, 915), conceals Orestes’ face in the folds of her skirt (vultus veste furabor tuos, 914). In mourning, she weeps (ista lacrimis lugubrem vultum rigat, 922), is sad, and trembles (pavetque maesta, 923). At line 925, dialogue ensues between Electra and Strophius. At 931, Electra either simply points toward Orestes, or more likely pushes the boy in the direction of her uncle (recipe hunc Oresten, 931). The king, addressing his nephew with the vocative (te Oresta, 933), not only accepts the boy from Electra and lifts him into the chariot, but also gives his victory wreath (cape hoc decorum, insigne fronte, 935–36) to Orestes, instructing the boy to hold it in his left hand in such a way as to shade his head (laeva victricem tenens frondem virenti protegat ramo caput, 936–37). Strophius then speaks to his son (940–1), and finally shouts orders to the “horses” that pull the chariot (vos…equi,…fugite! 942–43). The exostra withdraws the way it came, via the wing leading to the forum, carrying off Strophius (actor A) and the two silent boys. Electra comments on the chariot as it departs (excessit, abiit, currus effreno impetu effugit, 944–45), noting that it leaves with an “unbridled blow.” Fitch simply renders effreno impetu as “headlong.”50 But it seems to mean more than that. Perhaps it is a reference to Strophius’ skill as a horseman—he is so good that he does not need the reins. Or perhaps it is an ironic metatheatrical comment, drawing attention to the fact that there are no actual horses, and so the actor does not actually have to use the reins.
At line 947, Clytemnestra (actor B) enters through the center doors, covered in blood (adest cruenta victrix, 947). Specifically, her clothes are drenched with blood (signa caedis veste maculata gerit, 948), and her hands drip with fresh blood (manus recenti sanguine madent, 949), perhaps indicating an actual stage effect.51 Electra seeks shelter at the onstage altar (concedam ad aras, 951), actually fulfilling a religious-like act, unlike the other characters in this play. She addresses Cassandra (actor C) (Cassandra, 952), confirming that the Trojan girl has not left the stage. Electra does not receive an answer. Instead, Clytemnestra speaks (953). Dialogue between the queen and her daughter ensues, during which Electra leaves the protection of the altar (recedo ab aris, 972). She presents her throat to her mother to be cut (praebo iugulum tibi, 973); or, if Clytemnestra prefers, Electra presents the back of her neck, like a sacrificial animal ([seu] intenta cervix vulnus expectat tuum, 975).52 Clytemnestra, helpless and confused, calls to the offstage Aegisthus to come and help her (consors Aegisthe, gradere! 978–79).
Aegisthus (actor A) enters through the center doors at line 981, accompanied by mute attendants. All four speaking actors are now present. Aegisthus addresses Electra, and three-way dialogue between Aegisthus, Electra, and Clytemnestra ensues. Cassandra remains silent for now. Aegisthus commands some of his attendants to drag Electra offstage and imprison her in a cave (abripite, famuli, monstrum! 997).53 They obey his orders, and exit with her via the wing leading to the harbor, since it is more likely that the cave will be found near the coast than in the center of town.
Clytemnestra now turns her attention to the still silent Cassandra (at ista, 1001), ordering the remaining attendants to seize the Trojan captive (trahite! 1003). But Cassandra tells them to keep their hands off of her (ne trahite! 1004); instead, she will walk into the palace ahead of them (vestros ipsapraecedam gradus, 1004). Following two last words from Clytemnestra (furiosa, morere, 1012), Cassandra, starting midline, speaks the final words of the play (veniet et vobis furor, 1012). She exits into the center doors, followed closely by the attendants, and then by Clytemnestra and Aegisthus. The drama ends with the Chorus of Trojan women alone onstage.
Conclusions
The story of Agamemnon's return from Troy and subsequent murder by Clytemnestra, while popular among poets and painters, both ancient and modern,54 does not seem to have much representation by Attic and Roman dramatists, as far as we can tell.55 The most well known dramatic version of the myth from antiquity is the first play of Aeschylus’ trilogy, the Oresteia (458 BCE); but Ion of Chios (ca. 490–421 BCE) was known to have composed one, and another anonymous Agamemnon was produced in 420/19 BCE. The Roman playwright Livius Andronicus in the third century BCE seems to have told the story in his Aegistus,56 as did Accius in his Clytemnestra of the second century BCE.57
Seneca's play follows the basic structure of Aeschylus’ Agamemnon. A third party, the Watchman in the Attic drama and the Ghost of Thyestes in the Roman, presents a feeling of foreboding. Clytemnestra takes the play's focus, until a messenger arrives to tell her of Agamemnon's return. Then Agamemnon himself appears for a short time. After his departure, Cassandra raves and describes the offstage murder of the king. Finally, Cassandra goes to her death and both Clytemnestra and Aegisthus assume control of the situation. But within that framework, there is much variation, so much that Tarrant argues that “It seems incredible that the Agamemnon of Aeschylus could have been thought Seneca's source.”58 On the other hand, Gantz points out that, prior to Aeschylus, the murder of Agamemnon seems to take place at the home of Aegisthus, and that Aeschylus appears to move the event to the palace of Agamemnon.59 This, along with the basic structural similarities, suggests strongly that, while Seneca certainly had other influences and made substantial alterations, the Roman tragedian must have at least been drawing on the Aeschylean tradition when he composed his drama.
That being said, Seneca's rendition is about deception. Clytemnestra pretends to be a faithful wife,
while secretly plotting her husband's destruction. Cassandra, conversely, tries to be truthful, but can only deceive because of the interference of Apollo. Electra, under the guise of dutiful daughter, spirits her young brother away. It should come as no surprise, therefore, that similar deceptions can be seen in the stage actions. Throughout the drama, various people propose sacred rites that are not carried out: the Chorus in its second song mentions many services for the gods that are not performed. Clytemnestra suggests sacrifices (402), as does Agamemnon (792 and 807). In fact, only Electra seems to be able to successfully fulfill her intention to approach the altar (951 and 972). And yet her actions are not religious per se, but attempts to escape punishment from Clytemnestra and Aegisthus. Thus, in this play, a person's statements do not necessarily indicate fulfilled actions.
As in the case of Cassandra, not all deceptions are negative or even intentional. The confusion with the Chorus is a good example. The first two songs seem to be performed by a group of Argives; at least the third is delivered by captive Trojan women, and probably the fourth as well. The movements of the Chorus on- and offstage are as uncertain as its identity. And while the Chorus is not trying to deceive, it adds to the general atmosphere of distrustfulness.
It should also be noted that in this play, which centers on the murder of Agamemnon, no weapons appear as props.
Finally, in this play, more than any of the others, the distribution of roles among a limited number of actors becomes an issue. It is surely significant that all the male roles can be portrayed by a single actor. And it was clearly Seneca's intention to have three characters who have taken so much from Clytemnestra surrounding her at the end. It is almost as if now that the queen's plot has been revealed, all the significant (and surviving) characters also show themselves. Rather than ending in deception, as it began, the play concludes with a new openness, which perhaps is not desirable, but is certainly different.
CHAPTER 4
Phaedra
One actor plays Phaedra exclusively, since she is onstage for four of the five acts,1 and speaks with all of the characters aside from the Messenger. It is possible for the same actor to portray both; but Phaedra is a strenuous role, and it is more sensible to give him a break during act 4.
The Nurse, likewise, interacts with all of the characters with the exception of the Messenger, who shares act 4 with Theseus.2 Fortunately, the Nurse is not as strenuous a role as her mistress. Both servants, then, must be assigned to the same actor.
The remaining actor gets the remaining parts: Hippolytus and Theseus. Thus, son and father, as well as victim and murderer, are played by the same person. There is undoubtedly some intentional irony, if not humor, when Phaedra comments to Hippolytus that he resembles Theseus (646ff.), and when the youth says that he will fill his father's place (633). This assignment also prevents the Euripidean confrontation between Hippolytus and Theseus. As a result, the Roman audience does not see a noble Hippolytus who would rather be condemned than break his oath; and Theseus seems even more rash and headstrong than his Attic counterpart, since he passes judgment without even seeing his son.
The Chorus is not identified in any way, except for being hostile to Phaedra and sympathetic to Hippolytus.3 But in this context, the oddness of the opening act should be considered. It seems to divide itself into two parts: the song of Hippolytus and the dialogue between Phaedra and the Nurse. The youth's ode, in fact, consists of anapests, the meter that Seneca often uses for the entrance of the Chorus. I would suggest, therefore, that this first section is actually the choral parodos, only with the singing done by an actor while the silent Chorus of huntsmen enters and follows his instructions.4
It is reasonable to assume that the play is set in Athens, since all of the geographical names and references in the first thirty lines, except for Riphaea at line 8, are to places in Attica.
The center doors stand for the palace. Kragelund argues ingeniously that there is a change of setting to the forest outside the city at line 405, based on his assumptions that the confrontation between Hippolytus and Phaedra would naturally take place in the forest, that the altar to Diana would be found in the woods, and that Hippolytus’ frequently stated aversion to urban living would preclude his ever setting foot in Athens.5 These are all fairly subjective points, and none are supported by the text, unless, as Kragelund does, we take them as given and reinterpret certain lines accordingly. To be sure, Seneca does sometimes change the setting, for example in the Troades and apparently in the Phoenissae, but only when it serves some dramaturgical purpose. Nothing is achieved by shifting the action between the forest and the city; indeed, retaining the same setting throughout would emphasize the way Phaedra desires to blend nature and civilization. And so it is better to assume a constant setting in front of the palace at Athens.
Rather than leading to the forum and to foreign parts, both wings have more specific associations: Theseus emerges from the Underworld via one wing,6 while Hippolytus and the Chorus enter from and exit into the forest through the other. This represents a notable departure from the norm, since both destinations seem to be “foreign,” and neither could be interpreted as the “forum.”
There also is a window or balcony above the center doors that opens to reveal Phaedra in act 2 (sed en! patescunt regiae fastigia, 384), undoubtedly the same mechanism as is used in the final act of the Medea. Fortey and Glucker absolutely deny that anything indoors happens on the Roman stage, and instead would have Phaedra appear onstage and enter from the center doors;7 but Fitch surely has it right when he observes that the balcony allows Phaedra “to be visible to the audience while remaining indoors by theatrical convention.”8
Dramaturgical Issues
ACT 1 (1–273)9
Action units: (1) Hippolytus orders his companions to scatter to the four winds in pursuit of wild game. (2) Phaedra and her Nurse discuss the former's improper lust for her stepson and consider possible courses of action.
Hippolytus enters at line 1, accompanied by the Chorus of hunting companions, via the wing leading to the forest. Throughout the play he is frequently described as hairy (e.g., habitus horrens, 916). It is dawn (dum lux dubia est, dum signa pedum roscida tellus impressa tenet, 41–43). The youth, unidentified aside from his love of hunting and the goddess Diana, speaks directly to the men (vos at lines 16, 20, and 31, as well as frequent occurrences of the second-person singular pronoun throughout). Since, over the course of his speech, he orders many men to go off in different directions, it seems that there are either a great many of these companions, or at least that as one or more exit, others enter to take their place. Sutton favors a literal reading of these lines, and wants there to have been “an extra for each singular imperative and two for every plural imperative”; he goes on to say that only two or three would “seem silly.”10 A happy medium can be reached, however, if the Chorus consists of six to eight performers who enter and exit silently numerous times, either individually or in pairs. In general, there is much activity in this episode as the hunters obey Hippolytus’ orders and come on- and offstage. At lines 31–43, Hippolytus talks about preparing the hunting dogs, raising the slim possibility that there are actual dogs on the stage.11 Hippolytus orders various companions to ready various pieces of hunting equipment. The prop master should take note. One man is to carry loosely woven nets on his neck (alius raras cervice gravi portare plagas, 44), while another should bear smooth snares (alius teretes properet laqueos, 45). A third is to ready a formido, or line that the hunters use to drive the wild game, given color by red feathers (picta rubenti linea pinna, 46). One particular fellow is in charge of brandishing a light throwing spear (tibi libretur missile telum, 48); a different hunter should direct his energy toward a broad “holding” spear (lato ferro, 50). Someone else has a curved knife. (curvo cultro, 52–53). Finally, Hippolytus hears the dogs barking offstage, suggesting that none were onstage earlier, and indicating a sound cue from the wing leading to the forest (signum arguti misere canes, 81–82)
. He signals his own exit (vocor in silvas, 82–84) through the wing leading to the forest. The Chorus of huntsmen leaves with him, as it would not be appropriate for its members to be present for Phaedra's confession.12
At line 85, Phaedra enters through the center doors, identifying herself by referring to her husband, Theseus (coniunx Theseus, 91–92 and Thesea coniunx, 129). The Nurse must come on with her at this time, since when she first speaks at line 129, she knows what Phaedra has just said.13 Phaedra weeps (lacrimis, 91) and gestures with her hands (ipsas manus, 104). She suffers from her passion (furor, 178), namely the flames of improper love (compesce amoris impii flammas, 165). These emotions further show themselves as Phaedra begins a speech in the middle of line 177. The Nurse resumes at line 195, with dialogue occurring at 218–73. Finally, the two women exit into the palace through the center doors following line 273.
FIRST CHORAL SONG (274–357)
The Chorus enters at line 274, from the wing leading to the forest. It sings first in minor sapphics, before switching to anapests at line 325, Seneca's usual meter for the choral parodos. The song concludes at 357 (quid plura canam? 356).
ACT 2 (358–735)
Action units: (1) The Nurse enters and reports on Phaedra. (2) The queen then appears in an upper window of the palace. (3) The Nurse urges Hippolytus to give more attention to Venus, only to be rebuffed. (4) Phaedra throws herself at the youth, who is appalled. (5) The Nurse comes up with a new plan.