by Thomas; Kohn
True to the Nurse's word, Medea sings (comprecor, 740) in trochees.23 At line 752, she shifts back to iambic trimeter and speaks instead of singing. Lines 771–86 consist of iambic trimeter and dimeter in alternation, and would presumably be sung,24 as would the anapestic finale (787–842).25 If she does not actually dance to the various nonspeaking meters, she would at least move rhythmically to the beat, praying to Hecate and gesturing appropriately.
During the ensuing magic spell, a number of items are mentioned: holy offerings to Hecate (797–98), a burning torch (800), a branch from the Underworld (804–5), and a knife (809). I am hesitant to believe, however, that these props actually appear physically onstage. It is doubtful that an actor would really cut himself and bleed all over the altar; this act was undoubtedly pantomimed. There would, then, be no need for an actual knife. And if this item must be imagined, then why not the others? Further, at 841–42, the torch is said to light itself. It certainly is possible that the Romans possessed the technology to achieve such an effect. But it is equally possible, and in fact probable, that the audience would have accepted the action just because they were told it was happening. Finally, unless Medea is accompanied by silent attendants, which is not otherwise indicated, it is hard to know how she would have carried all of these objects with her when she entered from her house. I think, then, it is most likely that all of these magical items were pantomimed.
As the spell-casting begins, Medea has unbound her hair (vinculo solvents comam, 752) and is barefoot (nudopede, 753).26 She places the customary offering for Hecate on bloody sod (tibi sanguineo caespite sacrum sollenme damus, 797–98). A burning torch has been raised (fax nocturnos sustulit ignes, 800), as Medea, having moved her head and bent her neck, sings spells (mota caput flexa voces cervice dedi, 801). A headband encircles her disheveled hair (passos cingit vitta capillos, 803) in funereal fashion (funereo de more, 802). Medea places a branch from the Underworld on the ground (iactatur tristis Stygia ramus ab unda, 804–5). She bares her breast and, in the manner of a maenad,27 prepares to strike her arms with a knife (nudato pectore maenas sacro feriam bracchia cultro, 806–7). Although we are told that the blood is about to flow over the altar (manet noster sanguis ad aras, 808), it is doubtful that the actor is really about to cut himself. More likely, just telling the audience that the self-mutilation is about to happen is enough. Nevertheless, Medea draws the pantomimed knife (assuesce, manus, stringere ferrum, 809). After much ado, she offers her blood to Hecate (sacrum laticem percussa dedi, 811), who in acknowledgment causes a dog to bark three times (ter latratus audax Hecate dedit, 840–41), cueing a sound effect. Finally, a torch appears to light by itself (et sacros edidit ignes face luctifera, 841–42), possibly indicating a stage effect.
With the spell concluded, Medea reverts to iambic trimeter and regular speech at line 843, summoning her sons (huc gnatos voca, 843), who enter right away through the center doors, accompanied by the Nurse.28 Medea addresses the children (ite, ite, nati, 845), telling them to go to the palace, give the gifts to Creusa, and hurry back. At line 848, the children exit through the wing leading to the palace. The Nurse goes with them. The ensuing ode describes Medea's mood, and so it is likely that she remains onstage, receding to the scaenae frons,29 and performing the actions as the Chorus narrates them.
FOURTH CHORAL SONG (849–78)
The Chorus steps forward at line 849. It performs in iambic dimeters, an interesting choice, since Medea has recently used it in her magic spell. In the very first line of this song, the Chorus compares Medea, once again, to a maenad,30 and calls her bloodthirsty as well (cruenta maenas, 849). Further, she is impetuous and seized by savage love (praeceps amore saevo rapitur, 850–51), though for whom is unclear. She displays powerless rage (impotenti furore, 851–52), is stiff with anger, and enraged (vultus citatus ira riget, 853–54). She shakes her head fiercely, while being arrogant and threatening (caput feroci quatiens superba motu…minatur, 854–56). Her face constantly changes color (nullum vagante forma servat diu colorem, 860–61): her cheeks blush and burn (flagrant genae rubentes, 858), before paleness drives away the redness (pallor fugat ruborem, 859). Finally, Medea demonstrates her nervousness by pacing back and forth (huc fert pedes et illuc, 862).
ACT 5 (879–1027)
Action units: (1) The Messenger tells the Chorus that the palace has caught on fire. (2) Medea, with mixed emotions, ultimately decides to kill her children. (3) Jason confronts her. (4) She flies off in the chariot of the Sun.
At line 879, an unnamed Messenger enters. It is not clear who he is, but he knows what has happened to Creusa and Creon, and so apparently has come from the wing leading to the palace. It is also not clear that the Chorus was done with its song. It simply stops when the Messenger starts speaking. The rest of the play is spoken in iambic trimeter. The following twelve lines consist of dialogue between the Messenger and the Chorus, which speaks within an episode for the only time in this play. This is an unusual messenger speech. It is short, and the Messenger does not have a long solo passage.31 Further, the Messenger does not really relay much information, except that Creusa was tricked by Medea's gifts, which caused the palace to catch on fire, and the flames are threatening to spread to the city. There is no description, for example, of the princess being overjoyed by the presents, burning up, and being helped by her father who sticks to her and likewise goes up in flames.32 All Seneca tells us is that there was a fire that killed Creon and his daughter, and that all of Corinth is in danger. Following his final words at line 890, the Messenger exits. He is fleeing the fire, and so goes out the wing leading away from town. The Chorus does not speak again, and has so far expressed no sympathy with Medea. It does not seem to care what happens to her, nor does it express any interest in the outcome. So it is probable that the Chorus heeds the Messenger's warning and exits, also via the wing leading away from town.33
At line 891, the Nurse enters, with Medea's sons from the palace, and advises her to flee (891–92).34 There is a bit of confusion here, since one manuscript branch assigns this warning not to the Nurse but to the Messenger. In that case, he would defer his exit two more lines. And since these are the only words the Nurse speaks, there would be no need for her to enter at all if the lines belong to the Messenger. But Medea addresses her sons in her ensuing speech (liberi quondam mei, vos poenas date, 924–25),35 and then kills them onstage; so they must return from the palace at some point. The Nurse escorted them to the palace, and so would presumably bring them home again. As long as she is onstage, she might as well say something. Further, there seems to be a division throughout the drama between the Chorus on one hand and Medea and the Nurse on the other. The Messenger has aligned himself with the Chorus, and so it is doubtful that he would now address the hated Medea, especially as she has just caused the death of the king and his daughter. I think it most sensible, then, that as the Messenger and Chorus exit through one wing, the Nurse enters with the children via the wing leading to the palace.36
At line 893, Medea steps forward and speaks. Horror strikes her heart (cor pepulit horror, 926), and her limbs grow stiff with cold (membra torpescunt gelu, 926). Finally, her breast trembles (pectusque tremuit, 927), as she weeps (ora lacrimae rigant, 937). Medea then summons her sons to her (huc, cara proles,…huc vos ferte, 945–46).37 She hugs them (infusos mihi coniungite artus, 946–47), demonstrating her affection for them. But her mental anguish has returned (rursus increscit dolor, 951), and her hatred for Jason burns within her (fervet odium, 952). Now Medea begins to hallucinate, first seeing a Fury (antiqua Erinys, 953, continuing into 958–66), then the brother whom she slew on Jason's behalf (frater est, 964, continuing into 967–71). At last, she draws a sword (manu quae strinxit ensem, 969–70) and kills one of the children (victima manes tuos placamus ista, 970–71). But before she can slay the other (caede incohata, 974), she hears Jason offstage as he approaches (quid repens affert sonus? 971), a cue for a sound effect. Medea states her intention to climb onto the roof of her ho
use (excelsa nostrae tecta conscendam domus, 973).38 She addresses first the surviving boy (perge tu mecum comes, 974), and then the dead child (tuum quoque ipsa corpus hinc mecum aveham, 975). She exits following her last words at line 977, carrying the corpse.39
At line 978, Jason enters via the wing from the palace, accompanied by a number of mute attendants. He immediately begins to speak, calling together Corinthians to help him find Medea, whom he cannot see because she is on her way to the roof. The ensuing scene consists of short alternating speeches.40 Medea enters on the roof and speaks at line 982, although Jason does not spot her until later (en ipsa tecti parte praecipiti imminet, 995). He orders someone to fetch him a torch (huc rapiat ignes aliquis, 996). Medea points to the corpse (gnatus hic, 1000), preparing to kill the remaining boy while Jason watches below (hic te vidente dabitur exitio pari, 1001). In full view of her former husband, she slays their son (hac…ferrum exigam, 1006) and threatens to defile the corpse (scrutabor ense viscera et ferro extraham, 1013).
As the scene ends, a chariot drawn by serpents appears in order to carry Medea away (squamosa gemini colla serpentes iugo summissa praebent, 1023–24). In Euripides’ Medea, this effect is achieved by using the machina. We can assume that Seneca would have used a similar device.41 As she flies away (ego inter auras aliti curru vehar, 1025), Medea either tosses the bodies to Jason, or else indicates that he can now climb up and get them (recipe iam gnatos, parens, 1024).42 Jason speaks the final words of the play (1026–27) as he watches his ex-wife disappear. The tragedy comes to a close with Jason onstage with the corpses of his sons, either at his feet or still on the roof of the scaena, along with the attendants, and with the Nurse cowering by the scaenae frons.
Conclusions
There are clear parallels to Euripides’ Medea (ca. 431). In both plays, Medea is confronted both by Creon, who ultimately agrees to give her the time she needs to exact her revenge, and by Jason, who claims that his actions are in everyone's best interests; and in both plays Jason comes back in the end just in time to see the corpses of his children and Medea's escape. Both plays feature Medea slaying her own sons,43 and then escaping on a magic chariot that had been a gift from her grandfather, the Sun. So it would seem that Seneca was at least drawing on the Euripidean tradition. But the Roman playwright also makes some substantial changes: he makes the Chorus unsympathetic to Medea, eliminates the appearance of Aegeas,44 substantially increases the role of the Nurse while doing away with the boys’ Tutor, portrays the casting of the magic spell onstage, and has the fire consume not only Creusa and Creon but the entire palace. It is unknown whether the Greek versions by Neophron or Carcinus or the Latin renditions by Ennius or Ovid contained these alterations, or even if Seneca was familiar with these plays.
Seneca's drama, like Medea herself, is full of contradictions. On the one hand, there seem to be fewer directions than in some of the other tragedies. The characters mainly stand and talk, either in soliloquy or to each other, without indicating much action or emotion, at least until act 3. Arguably, this could be because the play is concerned not with action but with Medea's inner struggles. But the same could be said for the Hercules Furens, and yet that play is full of descriptions of what Hercules is going through emotionally. On the other hand, this play has a great number of technical effects. Medea climbs up on the roof of her house, and then flies away in the chariot of the Sun; thus, both some kind of balcony on the second tier of the scaenae frons and also a machina are required. There are a number of offstage sound effects. And of course the centerpiece of the drama is Medea's magic incantation in act 4. It is almost as if Seneca was saving the good stuff for the end of the play, starting off slow and then building to a fever pitch. But regardless of when they occur, the abundance of such technical devices, as in the Phaedra, reflects Medea's schemes and machinations.
As always, some of the entrances and exits are announced, and others are not. But in this play, a small pattern can be detected. Jason's movements on and off the stage are never announced. This fits in nicely with Medea's own perceptions of the man. He is a kind of blind spot to her, causing her to do things, such as betraying her father and killing her brother, without really noticing the morality of these acts. And yet, in the end, they cause her great pain. Similarly, Jason in the drama can come and go without comment.
The play also seems to challenge audience expectations.45 Anyone familiar with Euripides’ play would be shocked at the absence of Aegeas, and at the unsympathetic Chorus. The former means that a spectator unaware of the story would have no idea what happens to Medea after she escapes. The latter means that Medea must rely much more on her Nurse for support and sympathy, and perhaps must act somewhat stealthily in order to avoid premature detection. Throughout the play, one can see this division between Medea and the Nurse on one side, and the Chorus on the other; it is nowhere more clear than in act 5, where the Messenger speaks only with the Chorus, who then exits with him. And yet Seneca assumes that his audience does know the story, as he has Medea repeatedly say that she will take on the part of Medea and behave the way that role requires.
But more than playing with narrative expectations, Seneca also plays with dramatic ones. Again, we assume that in performance the play would utilize an upper platform and a machina. And yet, no other known Roman tragedy seems to use these devices. And the whole concept of the messenger speech is turned on its ear. The one true messenger speech in this play is delivered by the Nurse. She is unnamed, as we would expect; but she does not simply come on, present her information, and then leave. Rather, this narration occurs in the middle of the play, and is only one of several functions the character performs. On the other hand, there is an actual Messenger, who comes on in the final act. He, however, participates only in dialogue with the Chorus, and when all is said and done does not really give much information. Since neither the Nurse nor the Chorus nor the Messenger is behaving as one might expect, is there any surprise that Medea must continually remind herself to act like herself?
CHAPTER 6
Hercules Furens (Mad Hercules)
Three mute actors are required to portray the sons of Hercules and Megara in acts 2 and 4.
Since Juno is the only speaking character in act 1, and she does not appear subsequently, the actor portraying her could, in theory, be assigned any of the other roles. Of the remaining characters, Amphitryo is onstage for all four acts; therefore, once an actor assumes that role, he can take on no others. Lycus and Megara are present together, as are Hercules and Theseus, and so these two pairs must be played by different actors.
Act 2 provides further clues and complications. The second half of this act consists of a confrontation between, on the one side, Megara and Amphitryo, and the tyrant Lycus on the other. The episode ends with Lycus commanding Megara to seek sanctuary (complectere aras, 503). Some scholars assume that Megara clings for safety to an actual onstage altar.1 Lycus goes on to command his servants to pile wood upon it and set it on fire, thus threatening the wife and children of Hercules with death (506–8). He then exits (514–15), as Amphitryo prays to the gods (516–23). Following a choral hymn, Hercules and Theseus enter, having recently emerged from the Underworld (592). Amphitryo has remained onstage. Zwierlein assumes Megara is still present as well, clinging to the altar, although she does not speak again until the fourth episode.2 Four speaking characters seem to be present, and so a fourth actor would be necessary to play Theseus, thereby breaking the rule of three actors. Sutton, on the other hand, thinks that at some point during the choral passage, the actor portraying Megara leaves quietly, changes masks, and then comes on as Theseus; a “mute supernumerary” sneaks on to resume the onstage presence of Megara.3 This exchange of roles, while nicely doing away with the need for a fourth speaking actor, is, however, both awkward and unprecedented.4
But some extraordinary staging seems necessary, since Hercules, shortly after entering, asks about the appearance of his family (626–28); and he addresses his wife as he leaves
(638–39). These lines imply that Megara and the children are in fact onstage. On the contrary, I would suggest that Hercules is hallucinating. Juno, in the prologue, proclaims that it is her intent to drive Hercules mad (84–124). Later signs of this madness will be Hercules seeing the constellations run amok in the sky (939–52), and then mistaking his wife and sons for his enemies (1001–2, 1018–20), thus leading to their slaughter. The manifestation, then, of this Juno-inspired madness is an inability to trust his eyesight. Fitch, in discussing “Hercules sane” versus “Hercules insane,”5 recognizes that Hercules “is close to insanity in his daily modus vitae,” and that “when he has reached the highest pitch of megalomania, his mind topples over into madness.”6 I would argue, however, that Seneca depicts not a sudden freefall, but a steady build. From his very first entrance, Hercules is already seeing things that are not there. In addition, when Juno instructs the Furies to harass her stepson, she calls one of them by name: Megaera (102).7 The clever wordplay suggests that Hercules may think he addresses his wife, Megara, when in fact he sees Megaera, the embodiment of madness.
Theseus further complicates matters when, after Hercules’ exit, he addresses Megara (641–42). There is no other indication that he shares his friend's madness, so he would not also be hallucinating. But a few lines later, Theseus himself provides an explanation when he states that he is having trouble seeing after spending so much time in the land of the dead (651–53).8 He may mistake an attendant or some other shape—perhaps even the ubiquitous altar—for Megara.9 Or, perhaps, convinced of her presence since Hercules has just addressed her, the partially blind Theseus may simply be following his friend's lead, speaking to his wife as politeness would dictate, regardless of whether she is actually there. Thus, Theseus’ words are not necessarily proof of Megara's presence.