Koninklijke Brill NV, Leiden, 2009 DOI: 10.1163/156852509X339851

Mnemosyne 62 (2009) 357-377 brill.nl/mnem

Description of Action in the Narratives of Euripidean and Sophoclean Tragedy

Joe Park PoeDepartment of Classical Studies, Tulane University,

New Orleans, Louisiana, USAjoepoe@tulane.edu

Received: November 2007; accepted: March 2008

AbstractDrama and narrative share basic constituents, such as a chronological series of actions, their agents, and a setting in time and place. Narrative, moreover, often makes use of dialogue, while dramatic dialogue is hardly conceivable without nar-rative. Recognition of this kinship has encouraged the notion that narrative and dialogue are naturally complementary, so that when a story is told in tragic dia-logue, for instance, the dramatic illusion is maintained una ected. Th is essay asserts to the contrary that, just as certain kinds of narrative are not hospitable to dialogue, certain dramatic narrativesmessenger speeches in particulardo not t well in the dialogues in which they are embedded. In support of this assertion the study attempts to examine the way in which the narratives in Sophoclean and Euripidean dialogue describe action. Assuming that dramatic narrative seeks to approximate, at least in some degree, what van Dijk calls natural narrativethat occurring in everyday conversationwhich mentions only those actions and events that are strictly relevant, the study nds that in fact most narratives in tragic dialogue are sparing of extraneous detail. Th ere is, however, a group of nar-ratives which with some frequency make irrelevant multiple references to single actions and events. Most of the Euripidean narratives spoken by anonymous mes-sengers and three in Sophoclean tragedy belong to this group, as well as ve nar-ratives spoken by named characters, four of which closely resemble messenger speeches in form and function.

KeywordsGreek tragedy, narrative, dramatic dialogue, dramatic messengers

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1.1 In recent years we have come to recognize that the anonymous mes-sengers report is more than just a poor substitute for the staging of a sequence of events whose enactment would be barred by the theaters lim-itations or the restrictions of convention.1) A messengers narrative can be vivid and exciting because it can present action that is faster-moving, more sweeping, more violent or more fearful than any that could be represented on stage. It can describe facial expressions that the actors masks would not allow the audience to see.2) It can compensate for the dull predictability of the dramatic setting by o ering to the minds eye a rich variety of scenic detail, etc. Not of least importance is the messenger reports capacity for carrying forward the action enacted before the audience. Th ere is, for example, almost a seamless transition from the messengers account of Alcestis preparations for death (Alc. 152-98), which end with her farewell to each of the weeping servants, to the presentation on-stage of her leave-taking from her family and her death (Alc. 244-393).3) What the messen-ger reports and what the characters in the following episode present in dramatic form t together so nicely because narrative and drama share a number of basic constituents, such as an agent or group of agents and a chronological series of events, which are set in time and place.4)

1.2 Th ese common components have encouraged some of those whom we have learned to call narratologists to argue that drama and narrative are merely di erent modes of the same thing.5) Some students of narrative go further, arguing that narrative and drama share not only structural ele-ments but complementary modes of presentation as well. For narrative makes frequent use of dialogue, while dramatic dialogue, like everyday human intercourse, is hardly conceivable without narrative.6) Th at is, some of the utterances, or series of utterances, occurring in a dramatic dialogue

1) See, for instance, de Jong 1991, 139-77, Goward 1999, esp. 15-20.2) De Jong 1991, 163-71; cf. Goward 1999, 3, 10.3) De Jong 1991, 120-1, who asserts that the action narrated by the messenger is never a digression from the primary action.4) De Jong 1991, 173, Chatman 1990, 117. Cf. Markantonatos 2002, 2.5) See Chatman 1990, 110-7, Goward 1999, 10-2, Markantonatos 2002, 1-5, Lowe 2000, 18.6) Chatman 1990, 110, Goward 1999, 11. Markantonatos 2002, 11-2: [I]t is fair to say that there is no de nite distinction between telling and showing, since both of them are potentially present in the same context and more often than not cooperate in reproducing a number of events.

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may well be narratives. Th e implied claim is that when this happens the dramatic illusion is maintained una ected. I shall argue here that some dramatic narratives are indeed well-integrated into the dialogues in which they are embedded. For example, at Supp. 116-60, a stichomythic dia-logue, Adrastus account of the events that have led to his ruin emerges as a plausible, albeit stylized, series of responses to Th eseus questions and comments. Some narratives, however, t less comfortably in dialogue and in the dramatic situation in which they occur. At Med. 1122-3 a messenger arrives telling Medea to ee immediately but then proceeds to occupy 95 verses (1136-230) with a detailed account of what has happened. De Jong asserts that, by asking to know the details, Medea provides a dramatic jus-ti cation for the length of the report.7) It would be truer to say that she provides a mimetically unconvincing motive for what really is a suspension of the dramatic moment.

1.3 What is specious about the claim that narrative and dialogue are naturally complementary is that it reduces all diegesis (and all drama, for that matter) to a single category. A historians account oflets saythe Protestant Reformation may well contain little dialogue or none; a con-temporary author of so-called kitchen-sink drama, on the other hand, might consider any narrative of more than a few lines implausible in the mouths of his inarticulate characters.8) In other words, genre counts. So when Goward insists that, On a fundamental level, narrative and drama are indistinguishable,9) she certainly is right; but the critical phrase here is fundamental level. On other levels there are signi cant di erences not only between these two modes of storytelling but among di erent genres within both modes.

1.4 When I asserted that some narratives occurring within the episodes of Sophoclean and Euripidean tragedy do not t comfortably in their dra-matic situations, I was, of course, talking primarily10) about messenger

7) De Jong 1991, 33. 8) Everyday speechwhich realistic drama, within limits, tries to imitateis economical, not given to extended utterances and complex narratives. Th e utterances of everyday speech are not only brief; they are fragmented and allusive, omitting details that the dialogue par-ticipants can mutually understand, full of grammatical ellipses and anacolutha. See Kiel 1992, 15-24. 9) Goward 1999, 11.10) Although not exclusively; see 6.1, 2 below.

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speeches. Now I would like to propose that, if the sort of reduced dramatic plausibility that is apparent in Med. 1136-230 is to be found in many mes-senger reports, that is due to a generic incompatibility with the dramatic dialogue in which they are embedded. Th at is, messenger speeches often do not describe action in quite the same way as narratives within dialogue which are put in the mouths of named characters.11) Th e di erence is most

11) I do not claim that this is true of all narratives spoken by unnamed messengers. A few messenger reports (cf. 6.2 and n. 53) are not generally recognized as conventional mes-senger speeches and have very little in common with the lengthy, detailed narratives that we will chie y be concerned with in this study. Messenger scenes are characterized, in addition to the anonymity of the reporter, by several features. (1) Th e messenger is not a real drama-tic agent but a witness of the story that he tells; he rarely takes any part in the action which he describes, and when he does, as at Ba. 729, that part is never decisive. (2) He delivers a set-piece narrative, describing a series of events that have occurred in the pastbut recently, since the opening of the playout of sight of the spectators. (3) Th e events are normally told in a chronological order rather than in a logical one which might better relate them to the present dramatic situation. (4) Th e conventional messenger speech is preceded by a brief exchange with other characters or with the chorus, in which the messenger reveals the culminating event of the story that he will tell. (5) Th e narrative-proper usually is followed, either immediately or after some delay (cf. n. 50 below), by the arrival of the narratives protagonist or of some other person strongly a ected by the events of the narrative. Th ese features I recognize as distinguishing, but individually not essential. Th at is, not every one is to be found in every messenger speech. As Erdmann (1964, 9-11) observes, the messen-ger scene has a canonical form, but it is not rigidly schematic and is subject to Abweichun-gen. Th e messenger at Hec. 518-82, for example, has a name, Talthybius, but because of his minor dramatic status and because of the speechs other conventional trappings and its function, I treat it as a messenger-speech. Cf. the discussion of Taplin (1977, 81-3), de Jong (1991, Appendix A), Erdmann (1964, 8-17), Rassow (1883, 2-18).

Although my conception of the distinguishing characteristics of the conventional mes-senger speech is more detailed than de Jongs, I generally accept her inventory of Euripidean messenger speeches. I do not, however, recognize Hel. 605-15 as a conventional messenger speech, and I would prefer to regard E. Ph. 1090-199 and 1217-63 as well as 1356-424 and 1427-79 as two speeches rather than four, and to treat Supp. 752-70, a continuation in stichomythic dialogue of the messengers report (650-730), as part of that report. I consider six passages of Sophocles to resemble the conventional Euripidean messenger report su -ciently closely in form and function to be taken into account in this study: Ant. 407-40, 1192-243, OT 1237-85, El. 680-763, Tr. 899-946, OC 1586-666. It must be admitted that these are no more than working lists, and in their compilation the acceptance or rejection of a few passages was necessarily subjective and therefore somewhat arbitrary. So, for example, with de Jong I reject IA 414-39, which Erdmann (1964, 176-8) recognizes as a Sonderform; in disagreement with Goward (1991, 27) and Barrett (2002, 224 [cf. 97]),

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immediately obvious in the much greater average length of messenger reports, especially in the works of Euripides. Euripides messenger reports average 93 verses in length, Sophocles 58 verses. Th e other narratives that I have found in dialogue,12) are considerably shorter (even though the nar-rator, in the course of many such passages, may be interrupted repeatedly by a dialogue-partner): in Euripides plays, the average length is 22 lines, in Sophocles 28 lines.13) Th e relative brevity of stories that are not told in conventional messenger reports o ers at least a rough measure of the degree to which tragic dialogue, although it is far from realistic, imitates real-life conversation; for natural narrative, as van Dijk calls it, is normally spar-ing of extraneous detail.14) It is strictly relevant, omitting mention of

I reject Ant. 245-77 (cf. n. 53). Since, however, I have attempted to examine all narratives embedded in dramatic dialogue the reader will be able to judge for himself the validity of my conclusions.12) Hcld. 389-409, 667-77; Hipp. 391-407; Andr. 399-403, 616-34, 910-8, 959-81; Hec. 239-50, 762-82, 791-7, 1132-82; Supp. 116-60, 990-1008, 1038-43; HF 534-61, 610-21, 827-30, 1258-80; E. El. 247-71, 509-17, 914-51, 1011-50, 1206-26; E. Tr. 474-86, 860-79, 919-65, 969-1028, 1123-52; IT 344-76, 517-66, 783-7, 936-78, 1163-85; Ion 265-74, 275-82, 338-54, 539-55, 773-807, 813-29, 936-64, 987-1015; Hel. 605-15, 1196-225, 1369-84; E. Ph. 400-29, 473-83, 867-79, 1595-614; Or. 360-74, 551-78, 736-54; Ba. 288-97, 443-50, 465-82, 616-37, 1218-31, 1286-97; IA 335-65, 697-709, 879-95, 1148-65, 1345-57; Aj. 233-44, 284-330, 719-83; Ant. 223-36, 245-77, 998-1022; OT 707-25, 750-64, 774-813, 1013-44; S. El. 417-23, 566-76, 773-84, 892-915, 1136-64; S. Tr. 141-77, 248-90, 351-74, 555-87, 672-704, 749-812, 1130-43, 1159-73; S. Ph. 254-316, 343-90, 603-21; OC 427-49, 521-48, 765-90, 960-98, 1292-1307.13) I accept the de nition of narrative of Prince (1982, 63-4) as an account of at least two events not presupposed or entailed by each other and occurring (but not necessarily told) in chronological sequence. For this study, however, I ignore the simplest narratives and take into account only those containing a chronological series of at least three events. Since mes-senger speeches are always past-tense reports, I disregard all narratives or parts of narratives that tell of events in the present or, like IA 414-39, for instance, in the future. Narratives in choral odes, prologues and deus-ex-machina scenes of both Euripides and Sophocles are left out of account, as are all narratives in Rhesus and the messenger report, IA 1540-613.14) No drama, of course, can replicate natural dialogue. For everyday conversation tends to be as economical as possible, resorting frequently to ellipsis, which makes it intelligible only to participants who rely on common experience. In order to provide the audience with a context, even the most naturalistic dramatic dialogue must therefore o er more informa-tion than an analogous conversation in the real world (Kiel [1992, 15-9]; cf. above, n. 8). Even so, most narratives within dialogue in the works of Euripides and Sophocles clearly seek, through the use of one or more devices, to maintain an illusion of actional speech. Th e

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any state, event, or action which is neither a cause nor a reason for other actions of the action sequence.15)

2.1 But if this generic incompatibility is real, that does not imply that messenger scenes are inferior to scenes in which action is enacted rather than narrated. For Greek tragedy is not exclusively dialogic and mimetic, but a hybrid form, as both Goward and Markantonatos point out.16) While a messengers narrative method may, to a greater or lesser degree, detract from a scenes e ectiveness as an enactment of a dramatic situation, it may, at the same time, endow his description of events with great vivid-ness and clarity. In fact, it sometimes has been remarked that messengers narratives have greater visual appeal than most of the inscenated dialogue in Greek tragedy.17) Th ere are perhaps a number of factors that help the audience, or the reader, to see the scene that the messenger describes,18) but I would like to suggest that a very important one, at least, is the way in which he describes action and physical movement. At Alc. 170-2 we are not told merely that Alcestis prays at the household altars. She goes to them, breaks o shoots of myrtle, crowns them, and prays. Polyxena, who at Hec. 558-61 exposes herself, does so by taking hold of her peplos and tearing it from the top of the shoulder to her navel. Oedipus at OT 1261-2, instead of breaking into his bedroom, rushes to the door, bends the bars from their sockets, and bursts into the chamber, where Jocastas body is revealed. My point is that action can be indicated verbally at various levels of speci city or generality.19) Th e passages that I have just cited do not just indicate the actions performed. Th ey describe in fairly speci c terms the movements ancillary to their completion. Hec. 558-61, moreover, draws

device that will concern us here is the avoidance of unnecessary multiple indications of a single action.15) Van Dijk 1975, 283 (cf. 285). Cf. Prince 1982, 68-9, who also associates narrative relevance with causality.16) Goward 1999, 11; Markantonatos 2002, 4.17) Cf. the citations collected by de Jong (1991, 173) which assert the superiority of verbal narration to inscenated spectacle in its e ect on the spectators of Greek drama. 18) See Barlows discussion (1971, 62-7) of the means by which Euripides achieves visual clarity.19) See van Dijk 1977, 182-3, who o ers as an example the act of writing. An observer might say that the writer is moving his pen over paper, that hes writing, that hes signing a document, etc.

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special attention to Polyxenas gesture by referring to it yet again in para-phrase: we are told not only that Polyxena ripped her gown to the navel but that she thus showed her breasts. Similarly Jocasta is said at OT 1263-4 to be both hanging and entwined in twisted ropes.20) For an overview of actions and events in messenger speeches that are indicated a second or third time, either by paraphrase or by speci cation of two or more move-ments, see my Appendix A on the Internet at http://www.tulane.edu/~classics/faculty/poe/Mnemosyne_AppsA-B.html.

2.2 Compare these passages to the brief account that Creusa gives to Ion in explanation of the reason for her desire to consult Apollos oracle (Ion 338-54). Her friend bore a child secretly. She has su ered miserably. She exposed the child. She expects that animals killed him. She went to where she exposed him but did not nd him. She went over the ground many times. Here we nd no description of the circumstances of the childs birth, nor any detail about her preparations for its exposure (even though later [1337-436; cf. 18-27] we hear a great deal about the cradle that she had put him in, the elaborate decoration of the cloth that she had woven as a wrap for him, and other recognition tokens). No single action in this passage is referred to more than once, and there is only one possible allu-sion (352 ) to any physical movement that would have been required to accomplish an action. Ion 338-54 is a summary of a great deal of activity in which Creusa must have been involved at the time of the childs birth and in the few days following.21) Creusa might, for example, have told Ion, as Hermes has told the audience in the prologue (15-9), that the friend gave birth at home, and that the place where she

20) Cf. 3.2. For a discussion of paraphrase and an analysis of its di erent types, see Long-acre 1983, 115-22, who distinguishes seven types of paraphrase of action. We need not be concerned with these distinctions here except to point out that I have not recorded instan-ces of one type, which Longacre (116-7) calls the negated antonym. An example of a negated antonym is to be found at OC 1587-8: . . .[H]e went from there . . . with none of his friends as guide, but he himself leading all. Cf. Hcld. 821-2.21) Similarly Polynices account to his father of the events that have led him to his decision to attack Th ebes (OC 1292-307) reduces several years history to only four actions: I went into exile. I came to Argos. Having taken Adrastus as my father-in-law, I established the leaders as my allies. To one of the actions (his exile) he does draw special attention by the device of paraphrase: Eteocles drove me out (1295-6); (he did so by) persuading the city (1298).

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exposed the child was the cave where she had been bedded by Apollo. She does not do so because these facts are irrelevant to the dramatic context. Th at is, they do not contribute to an explanation of the question that she wishes to put to the god.

2.3 In real-life conversation most of the things that people say to each other, as J.L. Austin (1975) has shown, are what I like to call actional: they are intended to in uence, or act upon, conversation-partners. If such an utterance is successful it provokes a response. Th us action in normal human intercourseand in dramatic dialogue as well22)unfolds through a chain of responses and counter-responses to verbal, or occasionally phys-ical, initiatives. Creusas story, which is told in stichomythic dialogue, emerges as a series of reactions to Ions questions and comments. But it is more than just passively responsive. It has an overall purpose: it is intended to inform Ion of the nature of her proposed question to the god. And it is also calculated to impress upon him her need for an answer from the ora-cle: after exposing the child she had second thoughts; she went back to nd him and searched carefully; she has su ered. It is this actional intent that accounts for Creusas verbal thriftiness; she is trying to make a point with her conversational partner and therefore avoids diverting him with irrele-vant detail. Her e orts meet with modest success. Th ey duly prompt in Ion an outburst of fellow-feeling ( , 359), although in the end he is not convinced that posing such a question to the god is appropriate.

2.4 Even though a messenger narrative is an utterance, or a series of related utterances, set in dialogue, the only thing that the messenger nor-mally says that has much actional value is the conventional23) statement at the beginning of the principal news that he is bringing. Th e narrative that follows a ects subsequent dramatic action hardly at all.24) At Andr. 1073-5, for example, a messenger announces that Neoptolemus has been killed by

22) Cf. Serpieri et al. 1981, 165: Th e theater is not narration from one perspective, i.e., it is not in any sense a story, but is rather the dynamic progression of intersecting speech acts. See also Veltrusky 1976, 128-33. 23) Cf. above, n. 11. De Jong (1991, 32-3) observes that the only Euripidean messenger scene in which the main news is not told before the beginning of the narrative-proper is Or. 1372-419.24) Goward (1999, 26) observes that the messenger speech constitutes a marked pause during which there is no stage-action.

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the sword by the men of Delphi and Orestes. Th e news clearly staggers Peleus, because the chorus reacts at v. 1076 by telling him not to fall, and he exclaims that his limbs are (1078). Subsequently the messenger expands on his information, as the chorus asks him to do. At the end of a narrative of 81 lines, however, there has been no measurable change in Peleus state of mind, and he does nothing after the narrative that he would not have done if vv. 1079-165 had been omitted. Th is does not, of course, mean that these verses are super uous. Rather, the messenger, being liber-ated from the constraint imposed by actional dialogue, is able to compen-sate for the lack of inscenated movement by o ering a vivid description of Neoptolemus nal struggle. Instead of telling us at vv. 1130-1 simply that Neoptolemus warded o a barrage with his shield he can say that the hero held forth his shield and warded o the barrage, extending his shield with his hand in one direction and the other.

3.1 While details that help the audience to visualize the scene described by the messenger may be communicated through various devices,25) such full and speci c description of action is what most clearly distinguishes the messenger-speech from other narratives couched in dra-matic dialogue. As a rough demonstration that this is so, I have under-taken a survey26) of instances in which more than one expression is employed to refer to a single action or event.27) Th ese expressions (usually

25) Th e localization of a movement undoubtedly presents a clearer picture than the mere naming of the movement. For example, at S. Tr. 923-6 Deianira is said to have loosened her peplos where a golden brooch lay over her bosom and to have unclothed her whole breast and left arm. Another visually e ective device, according to Barlow (1971, 63), is the change of perspective between a wide-angled view and close-ups of particular details. As an example of this Barlow o ers the progress in Ion 1122-228 from a description of a great banquet to one tiny detail, the relaxed claws of the dying bird (1207-8). See Barlows discussion (62-7) of this and other procedures which lend clarity to Euripides messenger speeches.26) Based, where not otherwise indicated, on the texts of Diggle and Lloyd-Jones/Wilson. I have excluded from consideration IA 1532-639, all of Rhesus, and all obelized, but no bracketed, verses.27) I take into account only expressions that indicate or imply movement or physical states that might be seen, ignoring indications of sound and speech, even though these obviously can help the audience to imagine the action described. (De Jong [1991, 131; cf. her Appendix II] stresses the important contribution of quotations to the vividness of the messenger speech, but she remarks (145) that indications of sound are not important in

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but not invariably28) verb-forms) fall into two categories: (1) the mention of two or more movements or physical states associated with movement which constitute a single action or event,29) and (2) reference to an action or event more than once by paraphrase (cf. 2.1 above). I have found that such multiple indications of movement are a striking feature of all of the Euripidean messenger narratives except the rst messengers speech of Orestes (866-956). In three of the six speeches in the extant Sophoclean plays (cf. n. 11 above) the concentration of expressions indicating move-ment is not as great as in most Euripidean speeches; but in two, the mes-senger reports of Oedipus the King and Electra (the latter, of course, a false report), references to movement are quite detailed.30)

most messenger-speeches, adding that Euripides descriptions are visual rather than audi-tive.) Since certain stereotyped gestures were associated with weeping (lowering the head, veiling the face: Med. 1012, HF 1111, IA 1122-3), verbal references to weeping are treated as indications of movement. Indications that someone saw something are ignored, unless the seeing implies a movement or a physical attitude.28) An instance of movement indicated in a noun is to be found at IT 324: . 29) What distinguishes an individual act or event cannot, of course, be determined with scienti c precision. I follow van Dijks principle (1977, 173) that an act, as opposed to what he calls a doing, involves intention, but I am fully aware that there are various levels of intent and that some actions are merely auxiliary to others. Van Dijk (1976, 297) de nes auxiliary actions as those whose consequences are not identical to the purpose of the larger action. I take two indications of movement to refer to the same act if they are not separated by an intervening motivation, either internal or external. So I regard E. Ph. 1417 as a des-cription of a single act: we are told that Eteocles threw his sword down and began stripping his brothers body. On the other hand, the two movements indicated at OC 1647-8, , . . ., clearly imply separate actions. Ba. 1115-8 (see Appendix A) and E. Ph. 1420-1 ( . . . . . . ) o er more problematic cases. When Pentheus snatches his mitra from his head and touches his mothers cheek, I take these to be parts of a single action because we are told that his motive was to make his mother recognize him. But when Polynices holds onto his sword as he falls, he has no intention of stabbing Eteocles.

Movements that are not intended by any human are considered to belong to the same event if they have an identical cause. So at Hipp. 1210-2 (Appendix A) I interpret the waves coming toward the shore, its swelling and seething with foam, the spouting of the sea (fol-lowing W.S. Barrett [1964, ad loc.], who takes to be a sea-spout rather than a wind) as closely associated phenomena.30) Th e following passages, which refer twice or more to single actions or events in mes-senger narratives, are quoted in whole or in part in Appendix A, which may be found on

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3.2 We already have considered passages such as OT 1261-2 and Alc. 170-2 in which an action is described in terms of several movements; but many descriptions of actions are much simpler, such as Ba. 693 -4, where we are told that the maenads jumped up, wiping sleep from their eyes. Some of the movements mentioned seem to be little more than those entailed by the action, which the poet did not need to make explicit in order to make the action intelligible.31) So the messenger at Hipp. 1220-1

the Internet at http://www.tulane.edu/~classics/faculty/poe/Mnemosyne_AppsA-B.html. Indications of more than one movement: Alc. 160-1, 170-2, 183-4, 186-7, 187-8, 189-90, 190-1; Hcld. 802-3, 846-7, 854-5; Med. 1136-7, 1147-8, 1159, 1160-1, 1163-6, 1168-70, 1173-5, 1186-9, 1190-1, 1198-201, 1206-7; Hipp. 1186-7, 1188-9, 1194-5, 1203-4, 1210-2, 1220-2, 1223-4, 1226-7, 1231, 1234-9; Hec. 523-4, 527-9, 543-4, 558-9, 574-5; Andr. 1090-1, 1100-2, 1114-5, 1130-1, 1136-7, 1138-40, 1153-4, 1158-9; Supp. 652, 676-7, 698, 714-7, 760, 766; HF 932-4, 947-9, 978-9, 979-80, 986-7, 992-4, 999-1000, 1002-3; E. El. 775, 777-8, 788-9, 798-9, 803-4, 810-2, 822-3, 824-6, 826-7, 838, 838-9, 840-1, 846, 855-7; IT 265-6, 281-3, 295-6, 296-8, 307-8, 312-3, 318-9, 324, 325-6, 331-2; IT 1333-4, 1351-3, 1364-5, 1368-70, 1375-6, 1377-8, 1381-4; Ion 1122, 1132, 1141-2, 1171-2, 1182-5, 1199-200, 1207-8, 1213, 1217-9; Hel. 1526-7, 1548-9, 1557-8, 1565-6, 1570-1, 1581-4, 1600-1; E. Ph. 1091-2, 1149, 1159-61, 1173-4, 1178-80, 1186; E. Ph. 1361, 1381, 1390-2, 1401-2, 1404-5, 1410-3, 1414-5, 1417, 1423-4, 1439-41, 1456-8, 1459, 1470-1; Or. 871, 880-3; Or. 1409-13, 1416, 1457-9, 1469-71, 1476-8; Ba. 699-700, 704, 740-2, 743-6, 748-9, 751-4; Ba. 1052-3, 1064-5, 1073-4, 1087, 1090-4, 1096-100, 1109-10, 1115-8, 1122-3, 1125-7, 1139-45, 1140-1; Ant. 417-9, 429-31, 432-3; Ant. 1223, 1235-6; OT 1241-3, 1261-3, 1268-70, 1275-6; S. El. 720-1, 724-7, 728-9, 732, 738-40, 743-5, 746-7, 752-3; S. Tr. 917-8, 923-6, 938-9; OC 1587-9, 1595-7, 1607-9, 1620-1. Paraphrases of actions: Alc. 183-5; Hcld. 800-1, 821-2, 836-7; Med. 1163-4, 1168+1175, 1186-7+1190+1199, 1214-6; Hipp. 1232-3; 1234-9; 1236-7; Hec. 558-61, 569-70; Andr. 1128-9, 1130-1, 1130-1+1135-6, 1138-9, 1149-50+1152, 1150-1; Supp. 674-7, 691-3, 716-7; HF 980, 1004-6; E. El. 841-2, 842-3; IT 301-2, 309-10, 311-4, 330-2; IT 1351-3, 1355-7, 1372-4, 1375-6; Ion 1203-4; Hel. 1526-8, 1557-9, 1567-8; E. Ph. 1156-8, 1159-61, 1178-9, 1242-4; E. Ph. 1379-82, 1392-4, 1407-13, 1409-10, 1420+1422, 1457-8; Or. 1412-5, 1468-9, 1469-72, 1486+1488b; Ba. 683-6, 696-8, 722-3, 729-30, 734-5, 736-41; Ba. 1052-5, 1064-5+1068-9, 1070+1074+1076, 1071-3, 1090-1, 1103-4, 1114-5, 1129-30; Ant. 409-10, 419-21; Ant. 1221-2, 1238-9; OT 1241+1244, 1254-5, 1263-4, 1276-9; S. El. 721-2, 728-30, 732-3, 734-5, 746-7.31) Undoubtedly the speci cation of entailed movements is encouraged by the tendency in Greek literature to subordinate one action to another through the use of a circumstantial participle. See Oguse 1962, who o ers frequent examples from tragedy, Khner-Gerth 31904, 98, Moorhouse 1982, 250-5, esp. 253-4. What is noteworthy, however, is that the employment of such participles is much more frequent in messenger speeches than in other dramatic narrative.

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tells how Hippolytus seized the reins with his hands and pulled, and his counterpart at Supp. 714-5 how Th eseus took his club and swung it. Of the paraphrases, most include both a general and a speci c term. E. Ph. 1156-7, for example, informs us that Periclymenus stopped Partheno-paeus as he raged, throwing a rock at his head, while the rst messenger at Ba. 729-30 tells how he leaped out, vacating his hiding-place. In a few instances we nd two quite speci c expressions that are analogous to each other, as at Ba. 1103-4, where we are told that the maenads, prying with oak limbs, tore up the roots with levers not made of iron, or at E. El. 842-3 where Aegisthus body is said to have convulsed and quivered. It is very common for an account of two or more speci c movements to be rein-forced by a paraphrase. Supp. 716-7, for example, add that Th eseus, by swinging his club, was harvesting necks and helmets, breaking them o from the stalks, while Orestes soldiers (IT 1351-3), who hurry carrying a ladder, not only let it down from the prow for the foreign woman but give it to the sea.

3.3 Some messengers speeches are quite dense with language indicat-ing physical movement. In the messengers report to Medea (1136-230) we are told that the children come and enter the house (1136-7). Creusa veils her eyes and she turns away her white cheek (1147-8). Taking the gown, she puts it on (1159). Having put the crown on her locks, she puts her hair in order with a mirror, smiling at the image of her body (1160-2). Having risen from her chair she goes around the room, walking daintily, looking time and again at her ankle (1163-6). Her complexion having changed, she walks back, slantwise, with trembling legs and falls on a chair (1168-70). Th e foam goes over her lips, the eyes whirl from their sockets, and her skin is bloodless (1173-5). She ees, having risen from her chair, shaking her hair and head back and forth (1190-1). From the top of her head blood trickles, and esh falls from her bones (1198-201). Her father, folding her in his arms, kisses her (1206-7). Th ere is a terrible struggle, for he wants to raise his knee (1214-6). Th us nine actions and two physical processes32) are indicated by more than one movement (or physical change), while two actions and a physical change (1163-4, 1168 and 1175, 1214-6) are referred to a second time by paraphrase.

32) I take vv.1168-75 and 1198-201 as representing two di erent stages of Creusas su ering.

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4.1 Th is extravagant expenditure of words comes close to being, in the technical language of narratology, scenic,33) a term that designates a patch of narrative in which events are reproduced with as much verbal exactitude as possible.34) I say come close to being because the legitimate objection can be made that in every messenger speech a good deal of action is related in summary form.35) At Or. 1408-15 the initial approach to Helen is described in vivid detail: the Phrygian tells us that Orestes and Pylades, in their pretended supplication of Helen, having come to [her] seat, . . . their faces soiled with weeping, sat humbly on this side and that, laying hold of her, one on each side, and they threw, they threw, both of them, suppliant hands around the knees of Helen. But later, when Orestes leads Helen away, we are told that Pylades, after one short, impatient exclamation, locks the Phrygian servants up in di erent parts of the house, some in the stables, others in the outlying apartments, distributing di erent people in di erent places (1447-51).36) At this point the narrator omits the speci cs of Pylades rather unlikely feat, and the narrative procedure is iterative; that is, the narrator, in order to speed up, mentions only once actions that are repeated a number of times (and can, of course, refer only to those movements that are repeated every time).37) Alc. 152-98, moreover, even though it gives its audience a good deal of information about the scene that has taken place in the houseAlcestis kissing the bed and wetting it with her tears, her childrens clinging to her dress and crying (183-4, 189 -90)o ers only the briefest account of some of the things that she does. Before Alcestis prays we hear (159-60) that she bathes; but we are not told that she removes her garment or how she does so, or whether servants

33) See Prince 1982, 55-6, Rimmon-Kenan 1983, 52-4. 34) Prince 1982, 56. Rimmon-Kenan (1983, 54) observes that the purest scenic form is dialogue. But we should be aware that a replication of dialogue in direct speech, if it can be spoken of in some very general way as purely scenic, communicates to the reader or audience a great deal less than an inscenation of the same dialogue, acccompanied by gestu-res, would do. 35) Prince (1982, 59) observes that narrative generally is characterized by an alternation of scene and summary.36) , . . . . . . Outlying apartments is the translation for suggested by Willink (1986, ad loc.).37) See Prince 1982, 58, Rimmon-Kenan, 1983, 58 [sic].

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took the garment and helped her into the bath, or poured the water, or whether servants were present at all. As we saw, however, in the case of Creusas account of the birth of her child ( 2.2 above), such a high level of speci city is not required in order to make an action-description intel-ligible. Th e poet may choose summary language, with some con dence that the members of the audience, bringing into play their experience, will infer the actions or ancillary movements that are likely to be performed when a lady bathes.38)

4.2 Th e lack of narrative completeness is, I think, not particularly sig-ni cant. For it is doubtful that a fully scenic description of action is more than a hypothetical concept. Certainly to sustain such description over the full length of a messenger-narrative would be regarded by a dramatic poet as pragmatically inappropriate,39) since movements, which on the stage can be enacted simultaneously with verbal dialogue, can be described in narrative only in a linear succession. If the employment of multiple indica-tions of a single action is a device that distinguishes messenger speeches, it is one that Euripides does not use constantly but strategically and with a certain discretion.

4.3 Th e strategy, as we might expect, seems to be that the speaker describes in some visual detail those actions and events that he considers especially interesting or important40) while telling his listeners only as much about others as they need to know in order to follow the narrative plot: only those states, events or actions which are cause[s or] reason[s] for other actions in the action-sequence ( 1.4 above). At Hipp. 1175-6 we are told baldly that a herald came and said . . .. Th e herald is of no signi -cance, so there is no indication of how he came or anything that he did upon arriving except for an indirect statement of his words. In the transi-

38) Cf. van Dijk 1977, 109-12, Ingarden 31965, 261-70, who observes that narrative allows Unbestimmtheitsstellen which leave out details that are irrelevant or unimportant to the narrators purpose. Goward (1999, 20) notes that the ability to speed up time at one point and to slow it down at another is an advantage that narrative has over dramatic dialogue. In addition to summary a narrator may also employ ellipsis without fear of making his nar-rative incoherent. At Hec. 544-5 we are told that Neoptolemus nods to his attendants to take hold of Polyxena. Th ere is no indication that they do so before her protest, but clearly at v. 553 they have done so. 39) Van Dijk 1977, 108.40) Prince (1982, 59) observes that . . . the more detailed the account of an event seems, the more foregrounded that event is and the more importance it takes.

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tional verses after Hippolytus has set out for Argos and before the roar is heard from within the earth at v. 1201, the only detail that we are told about the journey is that Hippolytus attendants followed at his bridle (1196). On the other hand, the verses that immediately precede v. 1196 picture the hero grabbing the reins from the chariot-rail, having tted his feet in the chariot boots (1188-9), and, as he spreads his arms (1190), addressing Zeus in direct speech (1191-3). He then takes the goad in his hands and applies it to the horses (1194-5). Th at is, we are told of four di erent movements that Hippolytus makes ( , , , ) in the act of driving o in his chariot.

5.1 On the other hand, almost all narratives in dialogue that di er substantially from conventional messenger reports are sparing of details that are not relevant to the immediate dramatic situation (cf. above, 1.4). Consequently multiple indications of the same action are much less com-mon. I have found 28 other narratives in Euripides and six in Sophocles that contain no multiple references to any single action or event;41) 21 in Euripides and four in Sophocles that contain multiple references to only one;42) twelve in Euripides and nine in Sophocles to more than one.43)

41) Hcld. 389-409; Hipp. 391-407; Hec. 239-50; Supp. 116-60; HF 610-21; E. El. 247-71, 914-51; E. Tr. 474-86, 860-79, 969-1028, 1123-52; IT 517-66, 783-7; Ion 275-82, 338-54, 539-55, 773-807, 987-1015; Hel. 1196-225; E. Ph. 400-29; Or. 360-74, 736-54; Ba. 465-82, 1218-31, 1286-97; IA 335-65, 697-709, 1345-57; Ant. 223-36; OT 750-64, 1013-44; S. El. 566-76, 773-84, 1136-64.42) One action described in two or more movements: Hcld. 667-77 (664); Andr. 399-403 (401-2); Hec. 762-82 (762); Supp. 990-1008 (1000-1), 1038-43 (1038-9); Hel. 605-15 (606-7); IA 879-95 (891); OT 707-25 (718-9); S. El. 417-23 (419-20). One action paraphrased: Andr. 910-8 (910-2), 959-81 (976); Hec. 791-7 (791-2, 796); HF 534-61 (539-41), 1258-80 (1279-80); IT 936-78 (961-2); Ion 265-74 (274), 813-29 (819-20), 936-64 (951); Hel. 605-15 (605-7), 1369-84 (1383-4); E. Ph. 473-83 (473-4, 476), 867-79 (868-9), 1595-614 (1600-3); IA 1148-65 (1149-50); Ant. 245-77 (255-6); S. El. 892-915 (897, 899).43) Hec. 1132-82 (seven repeated references); Andr. 616-34 (three); E. El. 509-17 (two); E. El. 1011-50 (four); E. El. 1206-26 (four); E.Tr. 919-65 (two); IT 344-76 (two); IT 1163-85 (two); Or. 551-78 (three); Ba. 288-97 (two); Ba. 443-50 (four); Ba. 616-37 (nine); Aj. 233-44, 284-330 (ten); Aj. 719-34, 748-83 (two); Ant. 998-1022 (three); OT 774-813 (two); S. Tr. 248-90 (four); S. Tr. 672-704 (three); S. Tr. 749-812 (seven); S. Ph. 254-316 (seven); S. Ph. 603-21 (two). Of these narratives each passage that refers more than once to a single action is quoted, in whole or in part, in Appendix B (http://www.tulane.edu/~classics/faculty/poe/Mnemosyne_AppsA-B.html).

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5.2 But if narratives that are spoken by dramatic agents generally avoid irrelevance, relevance in drama is quali ed by the dramatic contextby the situation and the speaker. While even longer dramatic narratives, such as IT 936-78 or Supp. 116-60 (cf. above, 1.2), may not describe any action in terms of more than one movement, such descriptions are occasionally to be found in narratives that are quite brief. Th ese may well refer to actions or events that are attached to an especially strong emotion. Th us Iphis, search-ing for his daughter Evadne, says that she leapt up and went from the house (Supp. 1038 -9); Orestes, in lyric dialogue, that he put a cloak over his eyes and sacri ced his mother with the sword (E. El. 1221-3). In the exceptional narratives in which a speaker describes more than one action in terms of two movements (see Appendix B), that emotion is likely to be an expression of indignation. At E. El. 1018 ., for example, Clytaemnestra is preoccupied by two grievances, Agamemnons sacri ce of Iphigenia and his return home with a concubine. In recounting the former misdeed she says (1021-2) that he went away from home leading her daughter to Aulis and that then, stretching her above an altar, he cut her white throat (1022-3). About the latter she complains (1032-3) that Agamemnon came, having a girl who was divinely possessed, and he introduced her to his bed.44) It is true that not all such descriptions of action can so neatly be explained away. Some seem to be emotionally neutral. At S. Ph. 606-8, for example, the false merchant says that Odysseus captured Helenus by treachery, going out alone by night, and at vv. 608-9 that he showed him to the Greeks, leading him into the middle. Th ere are, in any case, not many narratives spoken by named characters that attribute multiple movements to more than one act or event. Excepting, for the moment, the four passages discussed below ( 6.1-2) that clearly are related to messenger speeches, I have found only nine, seven of them indicat-ing two actions, two indicating three. Of these nine narratives it is worth noting that four are found in two plays.45)

5.3 Paraphrases are employed, in non-messenger narratives, no more often (see Appendix B). I have found only four such narratives in which

44) Similarly, Iphigenia, in a thinking-out-loud speech at IT 359-60, says that the Greeks, taking her in their hands like a calf, slaughtered her, and at vv. 362-3 exclaims, How many hands did I reach out to his chin, hanging onto the knees of the one who sired me? 45) Andr. 629-30, 632-3; E. El. 510, 511-2; 1021, 1022-3, 1032; IT 359-60, 362-3; Aj. 729-30, 750-2; OT 798, 808-9; S. Tr. 259, 270-1; S. Ph. 268-9, 273, 279-80; 606-8, 608-9.

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two actions are paraphrased and four in which more than two.46) Th is I had not expected, since paraphrase is a device that seems not unsuited to actional dialogue. When a dramatic character tells a story, just as when he says anything else, he is trying to a ect what his interlocutor says or thinks or does (cf. above, 2.3). Th us, even if a narrators tale is brief and to-the-point, avoiding mention of events that are not strictly relevant to the occa-sion, we should not be surprised to nd him using paraphrase to call attention to anything that he regards as particularly important. Th at does, indeed, seem to happen occasionally. So Orestes (Or. 578), defending his killing of his mother, says that she punished his father and she killed him. Hecuba, who is trying to persuade Agamemnon to take vengeance on Polymestor, says of Polydorus (Hec. 762), I gave birth to him and I carried him under my girdle. Lichas at S. Tr. 248 . is trying to divert Deianiras attention from the question of Heracles recent activities when he says twice at the beginning of his speech that the hero was sold into slavery, and 25 verses later (275-6) mentions this again. Th ree times Philoctetes tells Neoptolemus of his abandonment (265, 268-9, 273), twice reinforcing the statement by specifying more than one movement.

5.4 In this long and passionate tale of Philoctetes past su erings (254-316) three further references to action are given emphasis by paraphrase, all describing his struggles to survive: his obtaining food by shooting birds (287-9), his e ort to walk (291), and his lighting re by rubbing together stones (296-7). In addition to Philoctetes abandonment (265, 268-9, 273), only one other action is indicated by reference to more than one movement (279-80), but in this narrative there are more paraphrases of action-descriptions than in many messenger reports. Th e question is whether these repeated references to action contradict my claim that narratives not told by anonymous messengers generally are brief and relevant. At least we can say that the redundancy here is actional in its intent (cf. above, 2.3) and, as subsequent events show, in its e ect as well; for by drawing special attention to the injustice done to Philoctetes the paraphrases help to arouse the sympathy that is the speechs strategic goal. Th e speech, then, does not, as do messenger speeches (cf. above, 2.4), constitute a pause in the action.

46) E. El. 1206-7, 1214-7, 1222-3; E. Tr. 919-20, 952; Or. 559-61, 562-3, 578; Ba. 443-4, 445-6, 447-8; Ant. 1008-9, 1010-1; S. Tr. 248-50, 252-3; 676-8, 698-9; S. Ph. 265-73, 287-9, 291, 296-7.

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But is such a long, uninterrupted speech, with so many repetitions, mimet-ically plausible? I believe that it is, because it is consistent with the charac-ter of Philoctetes as Sophocles presents it: that of a man whose troubles have made him obsessive.

6.1 For my argument S. Ph. 254-316 is the most problematic passage in the extant works of Sophocles and Euripides. For this speech resembles messenger reports only in the fulness of detail with which it describes action. It is true that there are four other narratives told by dramatically signi cant characters (Hec. 1132-82: Polymestor to Agamemnon, Hecuba, and the chorus, Ba. 616-37: the priest to the chorus, Aj. 233-44, 284-330: Tecmessa to the chorus, and S. Tr. 749-812: Hyllus to Deianira and the chorus) in which the relative frequency of multiple references to move-ment is at least as great as it is in Philoctetes tale of his past su erings. Th ese narratives, however, unlike that of Philoctetes, share most of the conventional features of messenger-speeches that I outlined above in n. 11. All except Ba. 616-37 are set-piece narratives of some length.47) All tell of events occurring in the very recent past. In all except Polymestors story the narrator is a witness rather than a participant in the action.48) All are pre-ceded by a dialogic exchange between a newly-arrived person and others already in the playing area, and during this exchange the new arrival reveals the culminating event of the o -stage action.49) After three of the four set-speeches the (su ering) central character of the narrative appears.50) Th e

47) Tecmessas story is, unlike most messenger reports, divided into two extended speeches which are separated by lyric dialogue; but the messenger report, E. Ph. 1090-199, 1217-63 is similarly divided. Cf. also Supp. 650-730, 752-70.48) Th e priest of Ba. 616 ., although the object of Pentheus attack, insists that Pentheus didnt touch him (617) and that he sat quietly to the side watching. Goward (1999, 29, 31) points out that both Tecmessa, at Aj. 288-93, and Hyllus, at S. Tr. 797-802, take part in the dialogue of the scenes that they narrate; but their participation in the narrated action is passive, and they stand outside of most of the action that they narrate.49) At Hec. 1049-55 the announcement that Polymestor has been blinded and his children killed is made by Hecuba, who has preceded Polymestor on stage. 50) After Hyllus report, S. Tr. 749-812, a whole scene (the nurses report of Deianiras death) intervenes before Heracles arrival at v. 971. Th e intervention of a choral ode be tween a messengers report and the arrival of his storys protagonist is common enough. Th e postponement of Heracles appearance, although longer, is perhaps comparable to the pro-cedure at Hipp. 1268-347, where a dialogue with Artemis precedes Hippolytus entrance. Cf. also Ant. 1243-56, where the exit of Eurydice and a brief dialogue stand between the

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exception to this is found at Hec. 1056, where Polymestor appears earlier, singing a kommos, and subsequently tells his own story.51)

6.2 Is there any essential di erence between these speeches and those of anonymous messengers? At least we can say that there is a very close kinship. Goward notes that kinship in a discussion of two of these narra-tives, Aj. 233-44, 284-330 and S. Tr. 749-812, which she takes as evidence that there is nothing distinctive about messenger narratives as a group: that they are merely a subset of a larger category of narratives that includes not only the speeches of Tecmessa and Hyllus but also a number of other nar-ratives to which they are, in varying degrees, less closely related.52) Th is category, which she would like to call message narratives or informative rheseis, she does not de ne very precisely; but I think that we can agree that there are a number of narrativesfor example, that of the old tutor at E. El. 509-17, Chrysothemis at S. El. 892-915, the warning of Tiresias at Ant. 998-1022, Deianiras description of the dissolution of the ock of wool at S. Tr. 672-704, Talthybius account of Andromaches departure at E. Tr. 1123-52, the guards tale of the discovery of the burial at Ant. 245-77, and the very brief description of the escape of the women of Th ebes at Ba. 443-50which clearly have things in common with the narratives that usually are recognized as messenger speeches. So it may be true that the binary distinction that I have been taking here as a working assump-tion does obscure similarities which it is important to recognize.

6.3 Th at, however, does not mean that, within the range of similari-ties, no distinction exists. Certainly the distinction is not always a clear one, for the narratives mentioned in 6.2 resemble, and deviate from, conventional messenger reports in di erent degrees and in di erent ways.53)

messengers report and the announcement of the entry of Creon, who is bringing Haemons body. 51) Although Polymestor is the only su erer to tell the story of his own downfall, Orestes and Pylades arrive at IT 238 with the messenger who is their captor, as does Antigone at Ant. 381. 52) Goward 1999, 26-31.53) For example, the anonymous guard of Ant. 245-77, who is more directly a ected by the situation than most messengers, enters at v. 223 with another narrative, describing his hesitant and anxious progress to the stage. Ba. 434-42, which is preceded by no opening dialogue, conventionally describes the capture of the speakers prisoner (cf. IT 260-339, Ant. 407-40), but so brie y, indicating only two events, that it cannot be considered here

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But the lack of an unambiguous de nition for messenger reports is irrele-vant to my thesis. My claim is that there is a group of dramatic narratives that di er from all others in their descriptions of action, which have a greater fulness of detail than tragic dialogue usually admits. I do not argue that all reports of anonymous messengers belong to this group, or that all informative rheseis by named characters are to be excluded. But in fact all of the narratives that do belong to the group, except for S. Ph. 254-316, are accompanied by most of the conventional features of messenger reports. And most of those narratives are spoken by messengers who have no role outside the messenger scene and therefore stand at some remove from the dramatic situation. Th is suggests that the conventions of the messenger report, including the extra-dramatic status of the narrator, constitute sig-nals to the audience to expect this fulness of description, but that the expectation is not invariably realized.54)

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(see n. 13). Th e speaker then, at Ba. 443-50, turns to a second narrative, about events belonging to another place and time. Tiresias narrative at Ant. 998-1022 fails to suspend dramatic dialogue: like Aj. 719-83, it supports and justi es an admonition, thereby advan-cing dramatic action, and, like the Ajax passage, it is followed by a precipitous exit.54) Much of the preparation for this paper was done during summer stays in Gttingen in 2004 and 2005. I would like to thank the members of the Seminar for Classical Philology at Gttingen and the sta of the University Library for their generous hospitality during that period. In addition, I owe special thanks to my colleague, Susann Lusnia, who gave generously of her time to establish the web-page for Appendices A and B.

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