In recent years the general view of the theology and morality of Aeschylus which we still find expressed in the most popular handbooks of Greek tragedy has come under fire; fire which its defenders have so far been unwilling or unable to return. That Aeschylus was a bold religious innovator propounding advanced doctrines can no longer be assumed without argument; neither can one take for granted that his outlook on morality in general and on justice in particular was as advanced (...) as it was once usual to maintain. (shrink)

So many scholars nowadays believe that the final scenes of the Seven against Thebes as we have them have been considerably distorted and interpolated that some may not be aware that such an opinion was first expressed little more than ioo years ago. The first scholar to do so was A. Scholl, who afterwards recanted.

No project lay nearer to the heart of Eduard Fraenkel during his last years than that of promoting a reprint of the famous book Die dramatische Technik des Sophokles, by Tycho von Wilamowitz-Moellendorff, which was first published as volume xxii of Philologische Untersuchungen in 1917. Tycho Wilamowitz, the son of Ulrich von Wilamowitz-Moellendorff and the grandson of Theodor Mommsen, was killed fighting against the Russians near Ivangorod on the night of 14/15 October 1914. After his death the manuscript was prepared (...) for publication by his friend Ernst Kapp, who has explained in the foreword of the book the nature of his services. (shrink)

All commentators so far as I know have believed that lines 100–1 are simply a vague paraphrase for Jebb's translation may be taken to represent the usual view: ‘… is he threading the straits of the sea, or hath he found an abode on either continent?’ But this sense is not only poetially inept, but linguistically impossible.

Jebb renders the last clause as follows: ‘The warrior of the white shield, who came from Argos in his panoply, hath been stirred by thee to headlong flight, in swifter career.’ ‘In swifter career’ is a discreet rendering of ., Jebb says, ‘does not mean “in flight swifter than their former approach“ nor “the reins are shaken ever faster on the horses' necks”.’ ‘The Argives’, he writes, ‘began their retreat in the darkness : when the sun rises, the flashing steel (...) of their bridles shows them in headlong flight’. Cf. P. Mazon, R.E.G. xxv , 13. This view is shared by all modern scholars, except that Dain and Mazon put commas after and translate accordingly; which I do not think is an improvement. How to Cite This Article. (shrink)

p. 13: delete lines 5 and 6.p. 17, 1. 18: after ‘3. 599–603:’, insert ‘the manuscripts have:’.1. 22 : for κοπ⋯ς read.p. 21, 1 24: for fSLov read χpVOVP22, 1. 4 : for TOV xpovov read TOV XpOV.1. 5: alter the genitives to accusatives.p. 23, five lines from the bottom: for ‘221 f.’ read ‘22 f.’.

Christopher Carey, CQ 39 , 287ff. sets out to explain the transition in Pindar, O. 8.52–5 from the story of the building of the walls of Troy to the praises of the trainer Melesias. ‘The myth of O. 8’, he writes, ‘tells of the role of Aiakos in the building of the walls of Troy. It closes with Apollo going off to his favourite haunts while Poseidon drives off to the Isthmus of Corinth, depositing Aiakos at Aigina on the way. (...) The myth is followed by an opaque gnome.’. (shrink)

The second play of the trilogy begins with the appearance before Agamemnon's tomb of the long-absent Orestes, who prays to Hermes for aid in his revenge and then dedicates upon the tomb a lock of hair cut from his own head. He is interrupted by the entrance of Electra together with the captive women who form the Chorus; in consequence of an evil dream, Clytemnestra has sent them to pour a libation to the spirit of her murdered husband. After discussion (...) with the Chorus, Electra resolves to accompany that libation not with words of appeasement, but with a prayer for her father's help in taking revenge upon his murderers. Going to the tomb to pour the libation, she notices upon it the lock put there by Orestes . She notices that the hair is like her own, and at once suspects that it may be her brother's. ‘How can he have dared to come here?’ the Chorus ask her ; and she replies that he must have sent the lock from his place of exile. The thought that Orestes' return is impossible plunges both the Chorus and Electra into deep sorrow, and in tears Electra broods over the lock . It can belong only to Orestes; she wishes it could speak, so that either she could know it not to be his, or else it could at least take part with her in mourning. At this point, if we cantrusttheone manuscript, Electra breaks off her reflections with a prayer . ‘But we call upon the gods,’ she says, ‘well do they know by what storms, like sailors, we are buffeted; but if we are fated to find safety, from a small seed may grow a mighty trunk.’ Next, if we are to trust what is transmitted, Electra catches sight of a new indication of her brother's presence. ‘Yes, and here are tracks,’ she says , ‘a second indication, the tracks of feet matching each other and resembling mine. Yes, for here are two outlines of feet, his own and those of some companion. The heels and the outlines of the tendons agree in their proportions with my prints. I am in torment, and my wits are confounded.’. (shrink)

Dr. G. S. Kirk has suggested that the last line of this fragment represents the bridegroom as being ‘fantastically ithyphallic’. This seems quite likely; but it would be more so if a parallel for the unusual use of the expression ‘a great man’ that it involves could be adduced.

Antigone and Ismene know that the situation of their father's grave must remain a secret to all except Theseus; but Antigone cannot help suggesting to her sister that they make their way back in the hope of setting eyes upon the burial place of Oedipus. How, Ismene asks her, can this be right in the sight of heaven? θμις δ πς τάδ'στί; μν | οχ ρις.