the same class of legends as the story that Plato was son of
Apollo, and that a swarm of bees settled upon his infant
lips as he lay in his mother's arms. Less supernatural,
but hardly more historical, is the statement in the Life
that the poet left Athens for Sicily in consequence of his
defeat in the dramatic contest of 468 by Sophocles; or the
alternative story of the same authority that the cause of
his chagrin was that Simonides' elegy on the heroes slain at
Marathon was preferred to his own. Apart from the inherent
improbability of such pettiness in such a man, neither story
fits the facts; for in 467, the next year after Sophocles'
success, we know that Aeschylus won the prize of tragedy with
the Septem; and the Marathon elegy must have been written
in 490, fourteen years before his first visit to Sicily.
Work.
In passing from Aeschylus' life to his work, we have obviously
far more trustworthy data, in the seven extant plays (with
the fragments of more than seventy others), and particularly
in the invaluable help of Aristotle's Poetics. The real
importance of our poet in the development of the drama (see
DRAMA: Greek) as compared with any of his three or four
known predecessors--who are at best hardly more than names to
us--is shown by the fact that Aristotle, in his brief review
of the rise of tragedy (Poet. iv. 13), names no one before
Aeschylus. He recognizes, it is true, a long process of
growth, with several stages, from the dithyramb to the
drama; and it is not difficult to see what these stages
were. The first step was the addition to the old choric song
of an interlude spoken, and in early days improvised, by
the leader of the chorus (Poet. iv. 12). The next was the
introduction of an actor (upokrites or ``answerer''),
to reply to the leader; and thus we get dialogue added to
recitation. The ``answerer'' was at first the poet himself
(Ar. Rhet. iii. 1). This change is traditionally attributed
to Thespis (536 B.C.), who is, however, not mentioned by
Aristotle. The mask, to enable the actor to assume different
parts, by whomsoever invented, was in regular use before Aeschylus'
day. The third change was the enlarged range of subjects.
The lyric dithyramb-tales were necessarily about Dionysus, and
the interludes had, of course, to follow suit. Nothing in the
world so tenaciously resists innovation as religious ceremony;
and it is interesting to learn that the Athenian populace (then,
as ever, eager for ``some new thing'') nevertheless opposed
at first the introduction of other tales. But the innovators
won; or other-wise there would have been no Attic drama.
In this way, then, to the original lyric song and dances in honour
of Dionysus was added a spoken (but still metrical) interlude by
the chorus-leader, and later a dialogue with one actor (at first
the poet), whom the mask enabled to appear in more than one part.
But everything points to the fact that in the development of
the drama Aeschylus was the decisive innovator. The two things
that were important, when the 5th century began, if tragedy
was to realize its possibilities, were (1) the disentanglement
of the dialogue from its position as an interlude in an
artistic and religious pageant that was primarily lyric; and
(2) its general elevation of tone. Aeschylus, as we know on
the express authority of Aristotle (Poet. iv. 13), achieved
the first by the introduction of the second actor; and though
he did not begin the second, he gave it the decisive impulse
and consummation by the overwhelming effect of his serious
thought, the stately splendour of his style, his high dramatic
purpose, and the artistic grandeur and impressiveness
of the construction and presentment of his tragedies.
As to the importance of the second actor no argument is
needed. The essence of a play is dialogue; and a colloquy
between the coryphaeus and a messenger (or, by aid of the
mask, a series of messengers), as must have been the case when
Aeschylus began, is in reality not dialogue in the dramatic
sense at all, but rather narrative. The discussion, the
persuasion, the instruction, the pleading, the contention---in
short, the interacting personal influences of different
characters on each other--are indispensable to anything
that can be called a play, as we understand the word; and,
without two ``personae dramatis'' at the least, the drama
in the strict sense is clearly impossible. The number of
actors was afterwards increased; but to Aeschylus are due
the perception and the adoption of the essential step;
and therefore, as was said above, he deserves in a very
real sense to be called the founder of Athenian tragedy.
Of the seven extant plays, Supplices, Persae, Septem contra
Thebas, Prometheus, Agamemnon, Choephoroe and Eumenides,
five can fortunately be dated with certainty, as the archon's
name is preserved in the Arguments; and the other two
approximately. The dates rest, in the last resort, on the
didaskaliai, or the official records of the contests, of
which we know that Aristotle (and others) compiled catalogues;
and some actual fragments have been recovered. The order
of the plays is probably that given above; and certainly
the Persae was acted in 472, Septem in 467, and the last
three, the trilogy, in 458. The Supplices is generally,
though not unanimously, regarded as the oldest; and the best
authorities tend to place it not far from 490. The early
date is strongly confirmed by three things: the extreme
simplicity of the plot, the choric (instead of dramatic)
opening, and the fact that the percentage of lyric passages is
54, or the highest of all the seven plays. The chief doubt
is in regard to Prometheus, which is variously placed by
good authorities; but the very low percentage of lyrics (only
27, or roughly a quarter of the whole), and still more the
strong characterization, a marked advance on anything in the
first three plays, point to its being later than any except
the trilogy, and suggest a date somewhere about 460, or
perhaps a little earlier. A few comments on the extant plays
will help to indicate the main points of Aeschylus' work.
Supplices.---The exceptional interest of the Supplices
is due to its date. Being nearly twenty years earlier than
any other extant play, it furnishes evidence of a stage in
the evolution of Attic drama which would otherwise have been
unrepresented. Genius, as Patin says, is a ``puissance
libre,'' and none more so than that of Aeschylus; but with
all allowance for the ``uncontrolled power'' of this poet, we
may feel confident that we have in the Supplices something
resembling in general structure the lost works of Choerilus,
Phrynichus, Pratinas and the 6th century pioneers of drama.
The plot is briefly as follows: the fifty daughters of Danaus
(who are the chorus), betrothed by the fiat of Aegyptus (their
father's brother) to his fifty sons, flee with Danaus to
Argos, to escape the marriage which they abhor. They claim
the protection of the Argive king, Pelasgus, who is kind but
timid; and he (by a pleasing anachronism) refers the matter to
the people, who agree to protect the fugitives. The pursuing
fleet of suitors is seen approaching; the herald arrives (with
a company of followers), blusters, threatens, orders off the
cowering Danaids to the ships and finally attempts to drag them
away. Pelasgus interposes with a force, drives off the
Egyptians and saves the suppliants. Danaus urges them to
prayer, thanksgiving and maidenly modesty, and the grateful
chorus pass away to the shelter offered by their protectors.
It is clear that we have here the drama in its nascent
stage, just developing out of the lyric pageant from which it
sprang. The interest still centres round the chorus, who
are in fact the ``protagonists'' of the play. Character and
plot---the two essentials of drama, in the view of all critics
from Aristotle downwards--are both here rudimentary. There
are some fluctuations of hope and fear; but the play is a
single situation, The stages are: the appeal; the hesitation
of the king, the resolve of the people; the defeat of insolent
violence; and the rescue. It should not be forgotten,
indeed, that the play is one of a trilogy---an act, therefore,
rather than a complete drama. But we have only to compare it
with those later plays of which the same is true, to see the
difference. Even in a trilogy, each play is a complete
whole in itself, though also a portion of a larger whole.
Persae.---The next play that has survived is the Persae,
which has again a special interest, viz. that it is the
only extant Greek historical drama. We know that Aeschylus'
predecessor, Phrynichus, had already twice tried this
experiment, with the Capture of Miletus and the Phoenician
Women; that the latter play dealt with the same subject
as the Persae, and the handling of its opening scene was
imitated by the younger poet. The plot of the Persae is
still severely simple, though more developed than that of
the Suppliants. The opening is still lyric, and the first
quarter of the play brings out, by song and speech, the
anxiety of the people and queen as to the fate of Xerxes' huge
army. Then comes the messenger with the news of Salamis,
including a description of the sea-fight itself which can
only be called magnificent. We realize what it must have been
for the vast audience---30,000, according to Plato (Symp.
175 E)-- to hear, eight years only after the event, from
the supreme poet of Athens, who was himself a distinguished
actor in the war, this thrilling narrative of the great
battle. But this reflexion at once suggests another; it
is not a tragedy in the true Greek sense, according to the
practice of the 5th-century poets. It may be called in one
point of view a tragedy, since the scene is laid in Persia,
and the drama forcibly depicts the downfall of the Persian
pride. But its real aim is not the ``pity and terror'' of
the developed drama; it is the triumphant glorification of
Athens, the exultation of the whole nation gathered in one
place, over the ruin of their foe. This is best shown
by the praise of Aeschylus' great admirer and defender
Aristophanes, who (Frogs, 1026-1027) puts into the poet's
mouth the boast that in the Persae he had ``glorified a noble
exploit, and taught men to be eager to conquer their foe.''
Thus, both as an historic drama and in its real effect,
the Persae was an experiment; and, as far as we know,
the experiment was not repeated either by the author or his
successors. One further point may be noted. Aeschylus
always has a taste for the unseen and the supernatural; and
one effective incident here is the raising of Darius's ghost,
and his prophecy of the disastrous battle of Plataea. But
in the ghost's revelations there is a mixture of audacity and
naivete, characteristic at once of the poet and the early
youth of the drama. The dead Darius prophesies Plataea, but
has not heard of Salamis; he gives a brief (and inaccurate)
list of the Persian kings, which the queen and chorus,
whom he addresses, presumably know; and his only practical
suggestion, that the Persians should not again invade Greece,
seems attainable without the aid of superhuman foresight.
Septem contra Thebas.---Five years later came the Theban
Tragedy. It is not only, as Aristophanes says (Frogs,
1024), ``a play full of the martial spirit,'' but is (like the
Supplices) one of a connected series, dealing with the evil
fate of the Theban House. But instead of being three acts of
a single story like the Supplices, these three plays trace
the fate through three generations, Laius, Oedipus and the two
