The Attic Theatre

§ 13 Dörpfeld’s Theory of the Greek Stage

Another theory of a far more revolutionary kind has been propounded in recent years by Höpken459, and amplified and developed by Dörpfeld. Dörpfeld assumes, like Wieseler, that the proscenium of the fifth century must have been of the same height as that described by Vitruvius. But he gets out of the consequent difficulty by supposing that the proscenium was intended, not as a stage for the actors, but as a background. He denies the existence of a stage in purely Greek theatres either of the earlier or of the later period. He believes that in all Greek theatres the actors and the chorus performed together in the orchestra. The proscenium represented the palace or other building before which the action took place. The front-wall of the stage-buildings immediately behind the proscenium represented merely the sky. This theory has been the subject of much discussion and controversy during the last twenty years. As it has been accepted by several scholars, it will be necessary to consider it in detail. I propose in the present section to explain the grounds on which, as it seems to me, it must be regarded as untenable; and to discuss at length the evidence on which the belief in the existence of a Greek stage is founded. In dealing with this subject it will be convenient to divide the period covered by the Greek drama into two parts, and to consider first the later part, from about 300 B.C. onwards; and then to return to the earlier period, that of the fourth and fifth centuries. The evidence in the two cases is somewhat different, and will be more clearly understood if taken separately.

1. The Later Stage.—First, then, as to the later or ‘Hellenistic’ period. Recent excavations, as was previously pointed out, have now given us a fairly clear idea as to the shape and structure of the stage-buildings during this period. We now know that from the beginning of the third century onwards, or, if Puchstein is right, from a considerably earlier date, the stage-buildings in an ordinary Greek theatre, though varying in detail, conformed to the same general type. They consisted of a long rectangular structure, in front of which was a narrow platform, usually about twelve feet high and ten feet deep. This platform was called the ‘proskenion’. In the third century it appears to have been generally made of wood. But in the course of the second and first centuries, or in the fourth century, if Puchstein is right, a stone proscenium was substituted for the old wooden ones in almost every theatre. What then was the purpose of this proscenium, this long platform, twelve feet high and ten feet deep, which we find in all Greek theatres after the fourth century? For an answer to this question we naturally turn to Vitruvius, who wrote a book about architecture towards the end of the first century B.C., and in the course of it gave a detailed description of Greek and Roman theatres. Vitruvius tells us that every Greek theatre has a stage, and that this stage is from ten to twelve feet high and about ten feet deep. Its narrowness is due to the fact that it is only used by the actors in tragedy and comedy; all other performers appear in the orchestra.460 He adds that the Roman stage is much lower and much deeper, and this for two reasons. It had to be deeper, because all the performers appeared upon it. It had to be lower, because in a Roman theatre the spectators sat in the orchestra, and would not therefore have been able to see over the top of a twelve-foot stage.461 Here then we seem to have a clear and final answer to our question. The proscenium which we find in all Greek theatres after about 300 B.C., and in some perhaps a century earlier, answers exactly to the description of Vitruvius. It must therefore have been intended to serve as a stage.

Dörpfeld, it is well known, refuses to accept this conclusion. But his method of dealing with the testimony of Vitruvius has changed since he wrote his book on the Greek theatre. He then supposed that Vitruvius had been guilty of an error. While admitting that he was correct in his measurements of the Greek proscenium, he asserted that he had made a mistake as to its purpose; that he had confused the background of the Hellenistic theatre with the stage of the Roman.462 But this explanation is one which it is impossible to accept. It is absurd to suppose that Vitruvius was mistaken. He was a professional architect, writing about his own special subject, and writing at the very time when many of these Greek proscenia were being erected. His remark about the Greek stage is not introduced as an obiter dictum, but is made the basis of the distinction which he draws between Greek and Roman theatres. He had evidently therefore thought about the subject. But even if we suppose that he could make a mistake of this kind, even if we suppose that he had never been in Greece, and never seen a Greek play acted there, still it is incredible that such an absurd error should have remained uncorrected in his book. The connexion between Greece and Rome was so intimate, that there must have been thousands of people in Rome who had seen Greek plays performed in a Greek theatre, and knew how it was done. If Vitruvius had made this absurd blunder, some one would have been sure to point it out to him, and he would have had it corrected.

Since the publication of his book Dörpfeld has shifted his ground on this question.463 He now suggests a new method of explaining away the testimony of Vitruvius. He supposes that Vitruvius, when speaking of the stage in the Greek theatre, was referring, not to the ordinary Greek theatre, but to the peculiar type of Graeco-Roman theatre found in various cities of Asia Minor, such as Termessos and Sagalassos. These theatres, as we have shown, exhibited a sort of transition between the Greek and the Roman model. While their general design was Greek, their stages were partially lowered and deepened, so as to come nearer to the Roman practice.464 In theatres of this kind Dörpfeld admits that the actors performed upon the stage; and he contends that it is to them that Vitruvius refers, and not to the regular Greek theatres, in which the actors always appeared in the orchestra. But in the first place it is difficult to believe that Vitruvius, when he speaks of the ‘Greek’ theatre, should mean something quite different. Why should he describe as ‘Greek’ a type of building which was not found in Greece proper, and which was essentially a combination of Greek and Roman attributes? In the second place, the evidence of the existing remains is inconsistent with the new hypothesis. Vitruvius says that the proscenium in the Greek theatre should be from ten to twelve feet high, and in ordinary cases about ten feet deep. Now what do we find in the remains of the regular Greek theatres? We find that in the great majority of cases the height and depth answer exactly to this description. But when we turn to the Asia Minor theatres what do we find? The average height is from eight to nine feet, the average depth from twelve to eighteen. In the face of these measurements it is useless to contend that Vitruvius is alluding to the Asia Minor theatres. The type which he describes is the ordinary Hellenistic type.465

The two facts already mentioned—first, the fact that Vitruvius tells us that every Greek theatre should possess a stage of a certain height, and secondly, the fact that all Greek theatres after about 300 B.C. are found to possess a stage corresponding to his description—these two facts appear sufficient in themselves to decide the whole question. But there is no lack of further evidence. Various ancient writers may be cited as witnesses. Pollux, in his description of the Greek theatre, says that ‘the stage is appropriated to the actors, the orchestra to the chorus’.466 Later on he says that the actors, when they ‘enter by the orchestra, ascend the stage by means of steps’.467 The scholiasts to the extant dramas often speak of the performance in a Greek theatre as being partly in the orchestra and partly on the stage. The commentator on the Frogs asserts that the scene with Charon and the ferry-boat must be ‘either upon the logeion, or in the orchestra’. Later on he says that Dionysus here appears ‘not on the logeion, but in the orchestra’. The scholiast on the Knights discusses the question why the sausage-seller should ‘ascend from the parodos on to the logeion’. There are other scholia to the same effect, which it would be tedious to quote.468 In these passages from the scholiasts and from Pollux the point to notice is the following. They do not merely say that there was a stage in Greek theatres, but they describe the performance as one partly on the stage, and partly in the orchestra. Dörpfeld says they are all mistaken; that they lived after the Christian era, and were confusing the Greek theatre with the Roman. But this would not account for their mistake, if mistake there were. In Roman theatres all performances were confined to the stage; the orchestra was occupied by senators and other distinguished persons. How then can Pollux and the scholiasts have got this notion of a performance in which stage and orchestra were used at the same time? There was nothing in the Roman practice to suggest it. It can only have been derived from the Greek theatre. But apart from this, the suggestion that Pollux and the scholiasts were misled by their recollection of Roman customs is not a fortunate one. It implies that their writings were the result of personal observation. But no one can read a page of them without perceiving that they were merely compilations from Alexandrian sources. The scholiasts in many cases mention their authorities, and these authorities often go back as far as Aristophanes and Aristarchus, and even beyond. They do indeed confuse the evidence a good deal, when they try to reconcile different statements, or when they misapply statements of earlier authorities to particular passages, and explain the passages wrongly; but the statements themselves are due to Alexandrian tradition, not to their own observations. When they say that Greek dramas were performed partly on the stage and partly in the orchestra, it is evident that the Alexandrians thought the same. The testimony of Pollux and the scholiasts is really testimony of the third century B.C.

Another writer whose words appear to be decisive on this question is Horace. His statement about Aeschylus, to the effect that he ‘erected a stage on beams (or posts) of moderate size’, has already been quoted.469 It is true that Horace is often inaccurate in his description of the early Greek drama. It may be contended, therefore, that his account of the reforms of Aeschylus is only of doubtful authority. But one thing is certain, that Horace, in describing the development of the Greek theatre, would never have mentioned the erection of a stage, unless a stage had been a regular part of the Greek theatres of his own day. Dörpfeld, in dealing with this passage, offers two alternatives. He first suggests that ‘pulpitum’ means the ‘stage-buildings’. But he cites no authority for such a meaning, and none is to be found. The word ‘pulpitum’ in Latin always means a stage or platform. Then, if the first alternative seems unsatisfactory, he suggests that Horace has made a slip, and that he was confusing the Greek stage with the Roman.470 But Horace, as we know, was for a long time in Athens, and must have often seen Greek plays performed. It is hardly conceivable, therefore, that he should have made a mistake on such a simple matter as the presence or absence of a stage.

To turn next to the archaeological evidence. Excavations have brought to light several facts which bear closely upon this subject of the stage. The evidence derived from this source appears to be even more fatal to the new theory than the literary testimony. One of the most convincing proofs is that afforded by the structure of the stage-buildings at Sicyon, Eretria, and Oropus.471 We have seen that, according to Dörpfeld’s view, the proscenium was the background, and the action of the drama took place in front of it, in the orchestra. Obviously, if this was so, the most important part of the stage-buildings must have been the rooms immediately behind the proscenium, or in other words, behind the back-scene. Now what do we find at Sicyon? We find that one-third of the space behind the proscenium consisted of solid rock. The Sicyonians, in order to save the expense of erecting a lofty auditorium, excavated their theatre out of the rock to a depth of about twelve feet. But they attached so little importance to the rooms behind the proscenium, that they did not take the trouble to excavate the whole of this part. They left one-third of it as it was. It was only when they came to the first floor of the stage-building, the floor on a level with the top of the proscenium, that they provided clear room from end to end of the structure. Their conduct, on Dörpfeld’s theory, was very peculiar.472 But the people of Eretria acted in a still stranger manner. They too excavated their theatre out of the rock. But they left the whole of the space behind the proscenium unexcavated. Consequently at Eretria the ground-floor of the stage-buildings was on a level, not with the floor of the orchestra, but with the top of the proscenium. There could hardly be a more decisive proof that at Eretria the actors appeared, not in front of the proscenium, but on the top of it. Then there is the case of Oropus. Here the stage-buildings were built upon the ground, and the rooms behind the proscenium were originally open from end to end. But later on the Oropians proceeded to fill up the greater part of the space with earth, and left only a narrow passage immediately behind the proscenium. Such conduct is irreconcilable with the supposition that the proscenium was the back-scene.473

Another proof is afforded by the height of the proscenium. The normal height, as already shown, was about twelve feet. But some proscenia, such as those at Athens and the Peiraeeus, were as much as thirteen feet. On the other hand others were considerably less. That of Oropus, for instance, was only about eight feet high; and the columns which supported the entablature were only six feet six inches.474 On Dörpfeld’s view these proscenia, with their architectural front, represented the palace or other building before which the action took place. What then are we to think of a palace about fifty feet long, and only eight feet in height? The background at Oropus during the performance of a tragedy must have been a most peculiar one. We should remember that the Greek tragic actor walked upon ‘cothurni’, which added about six inches to his stature. He also wore a mask with a lofty ‘onkos’, which raised his height by another six inches. Consequently the Greek tragic actor, when equipped for the stage, can hardly have stood less than about six feet six. This being so, if Dörpfeld’s view is correct, it follows that the actor who took the part of the king at Oropus must have been just about the same height as the columns which supported the roof of his own palace. When he made his entrance through the central door of the palace, he would have to bend his head, in order to avoid knocking it against the cross-beams. Surely the theory is a weak one which involves such ridiculous consequences. If the Greeks had adopted a background of this absurdly diminutive height, without any reason for doing so, this fact alone would have been strange enough. But it must appear stranger still that, having once adopted it, they should proceed to add about twelve inches to the stature of their actors, in order to make the disproportion between the size of the actors and the size of the palace still more preposterous.475

The reason which Dörpfeld gives for the lowness of the proscenium—the background, as he calls it—is as follows. He says that such proscenia were first erected at Athens in the fifth century, and were intended to represent an ordinary house of that period. But the ordinary Athenian house of the fifth century was, he asserts, about twelve feet high.476 To this theory there are several answers. In the first place, as we have seen, some proscenia were only about eight or nine feet in height; which is far lower than any ordinary Greek house, either at Athens or elsewhere. In the second place there is no clear evidence to show that the Athenian house of the fifth century was twelve feet high. From the remains lately discovered at Delos it appears that in the better class of houses there even the first story was more than twelve feet.477 But granting, for the sake of argument, that an Athenian house of the fifth century was of the size which Dörpfeld supposes, it is difficult to see what this has got to do with the height of the scenic background. The Athenian theatre, we should remember, was developed originally as a place for tragedy rather than as a place for comedy. The background therefore must have been intended to represent, in most cases, a palace or a temple. But why should this palace or temple have been made the same height as an ordinary house? Moreover, the proportions must have appeared extraordinary. A structure about fifty feet long, and twelve feet high, would be altogether unlike any palace or temple. Dörpfeld replies to this that it is impossible on the stage to represent buildings as large as they really are; that in modern scene-paintings the representations of palaces and temples are much reduced in size as compared with the originals.478 This is quite true. But they are reduced to scale, and in a proper proportion. A modern scene-painter, in representing St. Paul’s, would no doubt have to make his representation much smaller than the actual St. Paul’s. But in diminishing the height he would diminish the width at the same time. No modern scene-painter would produce a temple fifty feet long and twelve feet high; nor can we suppose that the ancients would have put up with a similar disproportion.

Again, there is the question as to the doors in the proscenium. If it was the background, it ought to have had three doors, the usual number in a Greek back-scene, as Pollux and Vitruvius tell us. But in most of the proscenia discovered there is only one door. In two of the proscenia, those at Megalopolis and Thespiae, there is no door of any kind. Even the single door, when it is found, is very narrow for the central door of the back-scene. At Epidaurus it is only four feet wide, at Oropus only 3 feet 8 inches, at Delos only 3 feet 3 inches.479 A door so narrow as this would be altogether unsuitable as the central door of the palace, and quite inconsistent with the use of the ekkyklema. When we come to the Graeco-Roman theatres, where the wall at the back of the stage has in many cases been preserved, there we find everything corresponding closely with the descriptions of the grammarians. There is always the requisite number of doors, and the central door is of considerable width. At Termessos it is about seven feet.480 As regards the absence of the three doors in the proscenium Dörpfeld gives the following explanation. These Hellenistic proscenia, as we see from the remains, consisted of an entablature resting on columns. The spaces between the columns were filled in with wooden boards. Dörpfeld suggests that when doors were required they might be provided ad libitum by removing the intervening boards.481 But if three doors were regularly required in the dramatic performances, it is most improbable that they should not have been provided as a permanent fixture in the proscenium. It is most improbable that the Greeks should have put themselves to the trouble of opening out these temporary doors at each festival. In any case we can hardly doubt that, if the proscenium had been the back-scene, the Greeks would always have provided at least one permanent door, and would not, as at Megalopolis and Thespiae, have erected proscenia in which there was no door of any kind. The absence of a door in these two places seems to prove conclusively that communication between the orchestra and the space behind the proscenium was a matter of no importance.

Another piece of archaeological evidence is supplied by the vase-paintings found in the Greek cities of South Italy.482 Two specimens are here inserted.483 These paintings, which have already been briefly referred to, belong to the third century B.C. They represent comic scenes acted by the Phlyakes. The Phlyakes were a sort of farcical comedians, whose performances were not unlike those of the oldest Attic comedy. In many of these paintings they are represented as acting on a stage.484 The stage, in most cases, is obviously made of wood, and varies in character from a rude and simple platform to an erection of some solidity. In one or two instances, however, it is a tall and elaborate structure, apparently built of stone, and adorned with columns in front, just like the proscenia we have been discussing.485 Often there is a flight of steps leading down to the orchestra.486 In one case the action is taking place partly on the stage and partly in the orchestra. One of the actors is represented as actually ascending the steps to the stage.487 This evidence seems to prove beyond a doubt that in the Greek cities of South Italy, during the third century B.C., performances were sometimes given in theatres with a tall stage, and that both stage and orchestra were employed for the purpose, and were connected by steps.

Dörpfeld now admits that this was the case. But he contends that the arrangement was an exceptional one, intended only for the farces of the Phlyakes. For these performances, he allows, wooden stages were erected, and the exhibition took place partly on the stage and partly in the orchestra. But the regular dramas—the tragedies, and the comedies—were performed solely in the orchestra.488 All this, however, is the purest assumption.489 There is not a particle of evidence to support it. It is altogether improbable that a different arrangement should have been adopted in the case of these farces, and in the case of the regular drama. Besides this, as we have already pointed out, in one or two of the paintings the stage on which the Phlyakes are performing is apparently a permanent stone erection, and not a mere temporary platform of wood. It seems certain, therefore, that the Greeks of South Italy during the third century B.C. provided a stage for their actors in all dramatic performances; and, this being so, we can hardly doubt that the same was the case in Greece generally.

One or two further objections to the new theory may be briefly mentioned. If we look at the plan of the theatre at Epidaurus (Figs. 6 and 7), it will be found that the stone border of the circular orchestra reaches to within two or three feet of the proscenium. If the actors had performed in front of the proscenium, they would have been sometimes inside the stone border, and sometimes outside of it; and the whole arrangement strikes one as awkward and unsymmetrical. Again, in the theatre at Delos (Fig. 12), statues and other votive offerings were erected immediately in front of the columns of the proscenium. The bases on which they rested still remain.490 But, if the proscenium had been the background, it is difficult to suppose that this place would have been chosen for such erections. When the proscenium was uncovered by scenery, and represented an ancient palace, these votive offerings and statues would have been altogether inappropriate as a part of the back-scene. When painted decorations were to be set up, they would have formed an inconvenient obstacle in the way of the mechanical arrangements. And if they were required to serve as scenery, why were they only employed at Delos? The probability therefore is that they were a mere architectural decoration of the stage-front.491

We have now gone through the principal arguments, literary and archaeological, which demonstrate the existence of a stage during the Hellenistic period. It remains to consider the reasons which induce Dörpfeld, in spite of this apparently overwhelming evidence, to deny the existence of such a stage. And in judging this question we must remember the fact already mentioned, that the chorus, at this time, had ceased to take an active share in the play, and that its functions were hardly more important than those of a band of musicians in a modern theatre. To turn now to Dörpfeld’s reasons. He says, in the first place, that these proscenia of the Vitruvian type would have been too narrow for the performance of a play.492 But their narrowness has often been exaggerated, owing to inaccurate calculations. None of them, as it now appears, were less than from nine to ten feet in depth.493 But a stage about ten feet deep, and from fifty to sixty feet long, would be amply sufficient for the performance of a Greek play, when the chorus was confined to the orchestra. The fact has been proved by actual experiment. Most English scholars have probably seen the Greek plays produced in the open-air theatre at Bradfield. The stage there is only ten feet deep and thirty feet long. Yet every one who has been present at one of these performances must admit that there was plenty of room upon the stage. I am informed that on one occasion, in the funeral procession in the Alcestis, as many as sixty people were brought upon the stage at the same time, and without any inconvenient crowding.494 It is clear then that the Vitruvian stage, which was just as deep and twice as long as that at Bradfield, would have been large enough to accommodate the chorus as well as the actors in an ancient Greek drama, and would have been more than large enough for the performance of a play in which the chorus was practically confined to the orchestra.

Dörpfeld further objects that these Hellenistic proscenia were too high to have served as a stage, since the spectators in the front rows would have been too far below the actors to see the latter properly.495 It is only in the Asiatic theatres, where the front seats of the auditorium were raised so as to give a good view of the actors, that he will allow that the actors appeared on the high stage; in such cases the height of the seats would make a ten-foot stage virtually equivalent to a five-foot one, such as the Romans employed. But in the first place, we find that at Mantinea also the lowest seats were raised four feet above the orchestra, so that this is not a peculiarity of Asiatic theatres.496 In the second place, if these proscenia were too high for a stage, they would have been much too low for a background. Their height varied from eight to thirteen feet; and a stage of thirteen feet would be far less of an anomaly than a back-scene of eight feet. Further, it has been shown by Maass497 that the height of the proscenium varies very regularly with the distance of the proscenium from the central point of the circle of the auditorium. The nearer this point, the lower the stage. The object of this can only have been to accommodate the height of the stage to the view of the audience. It would be inexplicable unless the actors were on the top of the proscenium. It seems also to be proved that in most cases the greater part of the actor’s person would easily be visible from the greater number of seats,498 including the lowest or front rows. When it was necessary, as it was through the greater part of the fifth century, for chorus and actors to communicate more or less intimately with one another, the stage was lower, and the view from some seats therefore less good; but when the chorus ceased to take a share in the dialogue, it became both possible and natural to raise the height of the stage and so improve the view.

Another objection of Dörpfeld’s is that in the existing proscenia there is no trace of any means of communication between the stage and the orchestra.499 But we have shown that such communication was seldom required at this time, owing to the insignificance of the chorus; and that, when it was wanted, it was supplied by temporary wooden steps. Dörpfeld replies that, if the stage was thirteen feet high, the steps must have been so large as to project a long way into the orchestra, and produce an unsightly appearance. But this result could have been avoided without difficulty. Where the stage was exceptionally lofty, the steps might have been placed in a parallel line to it. At Tralles, where there is a proscenium of the Graeco-Roman type, and nearly ten feet high, such steps are actually found, lying parallel to the stage, and on each side of the door which leads out from the front wall of the stage into the orchestra.500 A similar arrangement might easily have been adopted, when necessary, in the Hellenistic theatres.

In support of his theory Dörpfeld brings forward an argument based on the theatre at Megalopolis (Fig. 11). We have already described the peculiar construction of this theatre, in which the Thersilion took the place of the ordinary stage-buildings. In front of the Thersilion, and twenty-four feet distant from it, is the foundation-wall of a wooden proscenium. This proscenium, however, appears to have been of later date than the original theatre. Dörpfeld supposes that, before its erection, the actors performed their parts immediately in front of the Thersilion, and on the level of the orchestra. He bases his belief on the following grounds. The façade of the Thersilion rested on a flight of five steps, each about thirteen inches high. To one side of the Thersilion was a building, apparently called the Skanotheka, and probably used for storing the scenic decorations. In this building are the remains of a low wall, running in the same straight line as the bottom of the flight of steps, and about the same length as the stage must have been. Dörpfeld supposes that this wall was used, in the original state of the theatre, for working a ‘scaena ductilis’. He supposes that, when dramas were to be performed, a wooden scene-painting was pushed out along this wall immediately in front of the lowest step of the Thersilion, and served as a background. The actors in front of it must have been on the floor of the orchestra.501 But this arrangement appears to be impossible. If the back-scene had been placed in the position he supposes, immediately in front of the steep flight of steps, the representation of dramas would have been little short of ridiculous. The actor entering from the back-scene would have had to come down these steps to reach the threshold of the door. At first little more than his legs would have been seen, at any rate by the spectators in the upper part of the theatre. His whole person would hardly have become visible until he reached the lowest step. For a tragic actor to make his entrance in this way would have been far from dignified. Also, in plays like the Hippolytus and the Alcestis, when a sick woman on a couch had to be carried out, it would have been extremely awkward to have to carry her down a flight of steps as steep as those at Megalopolis. The ekkyklema would, of course, have been quite impossible to work. Again, it seems certain that the supposed ‘scaena ductilis’ would itself be quite unworkable. Is it likely that a huge painted board, more than a hundred feet long and more than twenty-five feet high, was pulled out in front of the Thersilion to serve as a back-scene? The ‘scaena ductilis’ (cf. Serv. ad Verg. Georg. iii. 24), which Dörpfeld thinks was such as has been described, was not a contrivance of this sort, but was a small affair, a variety of the ‘scaena versilis’ or periaktos; it was drawn apart, to disclose a new scene behind, and was not drawn across the stage. Moreover, the construction of ancient theatres, even of those with side-wings, shows that there was no room and no opportunity for the hauling to and fro of huge boards such as Dörpfeld imagines. It is true that much remains obscure in regard to the theatre at Megalopolis; but this solution at least is out of the question.502 Although, therefore, the Skanotheka at Megalopolis may very likely have been used for the storage of scenery, it is clear that this scenery, when used, cannot have been put up in the place which Dörpfeld suggests.

Another argument against the ordinary theory is based by Dörpfeld on the remains of the theatre at Delos (Fig. 12). We have shown that at Delos the proscenium was continued, though in a different form, round the sides and back of the stage-buildings.503 Dörpfeld argues that it cannot have been a stage, as it would be absurd to erect a stage all round the stage-buildings.504 If this is so, we might reply that it cannot have been a background either, since it would be equally absurd to construct a background in the same position. But as a matter of fact there is nothing in the arrangement at Delos which conflicts in any way with the ordinary opinion about the Greek stage. The erection at the sides and the back of the stage-buildings, though of the same height as the erection in front, was different in structure, and formed an open portico. The erection in front was like the usual Hellenistic proscenium, and must have been designed for the same purpose. If the proscenium in other theatres was intended for a stage, it must have been intended for a stage at Delos.

Dörpfeld has a theory about the origin of the Roman stage, which he brings forward as a strong argument in favour of his other views. According to Vitruvius the Roman stage was developed out of the Greek. The difference in size was due to the following reasons. The Romans preferred to give up the orchestra to the spectators and to transfer all performances to the stage. It was necessary, therefore, to deepen the stage, in order to find room for the additional performers. It was also necessary to lower it, in order to allow the spectators in the orchestra to have a clear view.505 Dörpfeld says that this account of the matter is erroneous. According to his theory the Roman stage was discovered by accident rather than by design. The Romans, when they first began to adapt the Greek theatre to their own purposes, found the orchestra too large, and consequently divided it in two. The half nearest the auditorium they dug out to a depth of five feet, and placed spectators there. The other half they used for theatrical and other performances, just as it had been used by the Greeks. In this way they found that they had got what was practically a stage five feet high; and for the future, instead of digging out the nearer half of the orchestra, they started on the level, and built a raised stage. The Roman stage therefore represents, not the Greek proscenium, but the further half of the Greek orchestra; and this fact proves that it was in the orchestra that the Greek actors performed.506 This theory is no doubt extremely ingenious. But unfortunately it appears to be inconsistent with the facts of the case. If it was true, we should expect to find the stage in all Roman theatres occupying the site of one half of the Greek orchestra, and the back of the Roman stage corresponding to the front of the Greek proscenium. Now in the normal Roman theatre this is more or less the case. The Romans eventually reduced their orchestra to a semicircle, and brought their stage forward to the position described by Dörpfeld. But the Graeco-Roman theatres of Asia Minor, to which we have already referred, fail entirely to correspond to his hypothesis. These theatres were among the earliest to be built in the Roman fashion, and might therefore be expected, more than any others, to exemplify the process of transition which he describes. But what do we find? We find that the stage, so far from occupying one half of the orchestra, stands in exactly the same position as the old Greek proscenium. The orchestra in these theatres still forms nearly a complete circle. The stage is deepened by pushing the back-scene more into the rear. Further than this, the height of the stage is not five feet, as it ought to be, but from eight to nine feet.507 These examples seem to prove that Vitruvius is more correct than Dörpfeld in his view of the matter; and that the Roman stage was really a modification of the Greek. When we find in these Asia Minor theatres a Roman stage standing in exactly the same position as the proscenium in the Greek theatres, and differing only in being longer and deeper, and two or three feet lower, we can hardly resist the conclusion that the Greek proscenium was the prototype of the Roman, and that it was intended for the same purpose.

The proscenium in a Greek theatre was called, among other names, the ‘logeion’ or ‘speaking-place’. It is so called by Vitruvius, and the word ‘logeion’ occurs in Delian inscriptions as early as the third century B.C.508. This being so, we are naturally led to ask how this fact is to be reconciled with Dörpfeld’s theory. If the proscenium was the background, and not the stage, why should it have been called ‘logeion’ or the speaking-place? Dörpfeld gives the following answer. He says that in Greek tragedies the gods, when exhibited in a supernatural manner, used to make their appearance on the palace roof, or, in other words, on the proscenium; and that it was therefore called the ‘theologeion’, or for shortness the ‘logeion’.509 But this statement will not bear examination. The usual device for revealing gods in supernatural splendour was the mechane, and not the theologeion. Even when the theologeion was employed, there is no evidence to show that it was identical with the palace roof.510 The contrivance for enabling actors to stand on the roof of a palace or other building was called the ‘distegia’. Instances of its employment are rare. In the extant dramas there are only eight or nine certain examples.511 If, therefore, the proscenium really represented the building in the background, the top of it cannot have been called the ‘speaking-place’ because the actors spoke from it. Eight or nine instances out of forty-four dramas are insufficient to justify us in regarding it as a regular speaking-place. The plain statement of Vitruvius, that the ‘pulpitum’ of the actors was in Greek called ‘logeion’, Dörpfeld attempts to get round by supposing that the place which had been the ‘theologeion’, or, more shortly, ‘logeion’—the speaking-place of gods—retained its name by a natural conservatism when employed by actors. This is ingenious; but it is surely far more natural to suppose that it was called ‘logeion’ all along because it was the regular speaking-place for all actors, and not only for occasional gods.512

We have now considered the principal arguments which can be brought forward on either side concerning this stage question, as far as it relates to the later period. Some minor points have been omitted; but they would not affect the question very much either way. The result appears to show that, at any rate as far as the later period is concerned, the evidence in favour of a stage altogether outweighs any considerations which can be adduced on the other side.

2. The Earlier Stage. We now come to the earlier and more important period, the period of the fifth century, when the drama was still in reality a choral drama, and the fourth century, during which the chorus was rapidly declining in importance, but was still commonly employed.

For the fourth century we have the testimony of Aristotle. Aristotle in many places speaks of the songs of the actors as τὰ ἀπὸ τῆς σκηνῆς, in opposition to the songs of the chorus, τὰ τοῦ χοροῦ.513 Further he speaks of the actor’s part as being played ἐπὶ τῆς σκηνῆς.514 According to the usual interpretation of these passages, he means that the actors played their part ‘upon the stage’, and sang their songs ‘from the stage’. Dörpfeld, however, proposes in these cases to translate the word σκηνή as the ‘background’, and not as the ‘stage’. He supposes Aristotle to mean that the actors performed ‘at the background’, and sang their songs ‘from the background’. He denies that the two expressions imply the existence of a stage.515 Now the translations which he suggests may be possible, as far as the Greek is concerned. But it is very difficult to believe that they are the right translations in these particular passages of Aristotle. Aristotle’s words seem to clearly imply that there was some essential and conspicuous difference between the position of the actors and that of the chorus.516 But if, as Dörpfeld thinks, they all performed together in the orchestra, there would be no such distinguishing mark. It is true that the actors might, for the most part, be rather nearer to the stage-buildings; and the chorus might, for the most part, be rather more distant from them. But practically they would be standing in the same place; there would be no pronounced difference. Aristotle’s words appear to be explicable only on the supposition that the actors appeared upon a stage, the chorus in the orchestra.

For the fifth century we have the evidence supplied by the use of certain words in Aristophanes. In three places, where an actor is approaching the back-scene, he is said to ‘mount up’ (ἀναβαίνειν).517 In two other places, where he is leaving the back-scene, he is said to ‘go down’ (καταβαίνειν).518 In all these passages there is nothing in the circumstances of the drama to suggest that the action was taking place on raised ground. The expressions can only refer, as the scholiast says, to the stage. It has been proposed to translate the two words as ‘come on’ and ‘depart’ respectively.519 But such a usage of the terms is otherwise unknown in Greek. Moreover, in one place—the scene in the Knights—this translation is proved to be impossible. Here Demosthenes calls out to the sausage-seller, ‘mount up here’ (ἀνάβαινε δεῦρο). He then shows him the people, the markets, and the harbours; and tells him that he will be lord of all. But this is not enough. He says, ‘you have not seen all yet’, and bids him ‘mount up on to this table also’; and then proceeds to show him the islands round about.520 These words show conclusively that ἀναβαίνειν must mean ‘mount up’ in the previous passage, and likewise determine the meaning of this word, and of καταβαίνειν, in the parallel passages.

The extant dramas have been carefully ransacked during the last few years,521 and it is not likely that many new points will now be discovered. Much of the evidence that has been brought forward on both sides of the question is really of little value. It depends upon a too scrupulous and literal interpretation of the text, or upon a forgetfulness of the fact that there is much that is conventional in all dramatic performances. For instance, when old men are approaching the palace, and complain of the steepness of the way, this fact is supposed to be a proof of the existence of a stage.522 It is suggested that they enter by the orchestra, and that the ascent of which they complain is the ascent on to the stage. But, if this was so, these old men must have timed their entrance very exactly, so as to reach the foot of the stage just when they came to the verses in which they began to grumble about the ascent. And this, combined with the obvious inadequacy of the ascent on to the stage to represent a really fatiguing road, would make the whole proceeding rather ludicrous. It seems more natural to assume that their remarks had no reference to the stage, and that the steepness of which they complain was left to the imagination of the spectators. Then again, the appearances of ghosts and spectres are cited as evidence in favour of a stage. It is said that they could not be made to appear from underground, unless there was a raised platform out of which they ascended. Now there is no doubt that in the later theatre ghosts were made to arise from beneath the earth. Pollux gives a description of the mechanism by which it was done. But there is no certain proof that they made their appearance in this way during the fifth century. It would be unsafe, therefore, to infer anything from these spectral apparitions concerning the structure of the early theatre. Again, there are those scenes in which the chorus might be expected to enter the palace, but fail to do so. For instance, when Medea’s children are being murdered, and call out for help, the chorus, after proposing to rush to their assistance, eventually remain where they are and sing an ode.523 But it is unnecessary, in this and in similar cases, to explain their inaction by supposing that there was any difficulty in passing from the orchestra to the palace because of the stage which lay between. A sufficient reason is to be found in the fact that, if they had gone into the palace, the scene of action would have been left empty.

It will be best to disregard all evidence of this inconclusive kind, and to confine our attention to those points which really throw light upon the question as to the relative position of actors and chorus during the fifth century. The following facts seem to be established. It is evident that the chorus sometimes entered and sometimes departed through the back-scene. Instances are not very common; there are only about six in the extant dramas.524 Still, they undoubtedly occur. It is evident, too, that the actors sometimes entered by the orchestra. They must have done so when they entered along with the chorus, and they probably did so when they entered in chariots or wagons.525 This gives us about seven instances where the actors came in by the orchestra. They may have done so much more frequently. This is a point which will be considered later on. But these seven cases are the only ones for which there is any convincing evidence. On the other hand, it was a common thing for actors and chorus to depart together through the orchestra. Many plays end in this way, such as the Eumenides and the Septem. In Aristophanes it is a favourite form of conclusion for actors and chorus to go off through the orchestra in a joyful procession.526 The general result then is this, that it was plainly permissible in the fifth century for the chorus to enter or leave by the back-scene, and for the actors to enter or leave by the orchestra; though the last of these practices is the only one of which there are many certain examples. But when we pass on from these entrances and exits, and look at the rest of the play, we find that it is very unusual, during the course of the action, for the chorus to come on the stage, or for the actors to go into the orchestra. The instances in which, apart from entrances and exits, the actors and the chorus can be shown to have come into close physical contact with one another, are remarkably few. We may mention, as examples, the scene in which the chorus tries to prevent Creon from seizing Antigone, and the scene where the farmers mount the stage to draw the statue of Peace out of the well. Opinions may differ as to individual cases, but the total number of instances of this kind does not amount, at the outside, to more than about fifteen.527 The conclusion we may draw from this evidence is as follows. There was nothing in the fifth century theatre to prevent the actors from moving into the place occupied by the chorus, and there was nothing to prevent the chorus moving into the place occupied by the actors. But, except when they were entering or leaving the scene of action, they do not appear to have done so usually, but to have kept apart from one another.

What then does all this prove as regards the stage? On the one hand, it proves conclusively that the stage of the fifth century cannot have been as high as the ordinary later or Hellenistic stage. If the fifth-century stage had been twelve feet above the level of the orchestra, there would have been the greatest awkwardness in actors and chorus passing from one place to the other. But, on the other hand, it does not in any way exclude the possibility of there having been a stage of some kind or another. If we suppose that the fifth-century stage was lower and deeper than that of later times, and that it was connected with the orchestra by a long flight of steps, or by a sloping ascent, all difficulties about the performance of the extant dramas disappear. Actors and chorus could easily pass from stage to orchestra, or vice versa. The fact that they so seldom came into contact with one another, except when entering or leaving the theatre, is a strong confirmation of the view that there was a stage of some kind, and that it was reserved in most cases for the actors, while the usual place for the chorus was in the orchestra.

The main reason for the employment of a stage must have been to make the actors clearly visible to the audience, and to prevent the view of them being impeded by the chorus in the orchestra. A few feet of elevation would be sufficient to produce this result. Dörpfeld, it is true, denies that any such precaution was necessary. He denies that the actors, even without a stage, would have been hidden from view by the chorus.528 But if we look at the plan of a Greek theatre, it is clear that if the actors were in the orchestra, and the chorus stood in front of them, the chorus must have obstructed the view of a great many of the spectators. In fact we have ancient testimony to that effect. The tragic chorus stood in three rows. We are told that the worst and most ungainly choristers (the ‘laurostatae’, as they were called) were placed in the middle row, because they were not clearly seen by the spectators.529 But, however the chorus stood, there could only have been one row between these ‘laurostatae’ and the audience. If, then, the actors had been in the orchestra, with three rows of choristers in front of them, the obstruction to the view would obviously have been very much greater. And it is important to remember that the spectators who would have suffered most by this arrangement would have been the occupants of the lowest tiers of seats. Now these seats were reserved as seats of honour, and were confined to high officials and distinguished citizens. Hence, if Dörpfeld’s theory is correct, the distinction which the Athenians bestowed upon their leading citizens cannot have been one of very much value. The benches which they assigned to them must have been the worst seats for view in the whole theatre.530

Dörpfeld further objects that, if we suppose a low stage at Athens in the fifth century, the history of the Greek stage becomes a very fantastic and peculiar affair. We have first a stage of five or six feet, then in the next period it rises to about twelve feet, then later on in the Roman period it suddenly drops to five again. His own theory, he says, is much simpler. There was no stage at all till the Roman period, and then a stage of five feet was erected.531 But the figures given by Dörpfeld are quite fallacious. There was no sudden rise and fall of the kind he describes. We have no means of determining the exact height of the stage during the fifth century. But when we come to the later period we find that it was not fixed at twelve feet, but varied from eight to thirteen. There was no settled rule. Architects naturally tried new experiments. Different heights were adopted in different places. Probably there was just the same variety and love of experiment in the early period. Again, when we come to the Roman period, we do not find that the height of the stage was suddenly fixed at five feet. In many places it was as much as eight or nine. Wherever we look in the history of the Greek theatre, we perceive a gradual transition from one type of stage to another; and the reasons for the successive changes are generally to be explained by the varying circumstances of the contemporary drama.

The archaeological evidence on the subject of the early stage has already been discussed.532 Unfortunately it amounts to very little. The oldest stage-buildings, being made of wood, have disappeared without leaving any trace behind them. However, such evidence as can be obtained tends to confirm the testimony of the dramas themselves, and to show that the stage of the fifth century was lower and deeper than that of subsequent times. There is also this point to be taken into consideration. The existence of a lofty stage during the Hellenistic period and perhaps from the fourth century onwards appears to be now proved by irresistible testimony. This being so, it is altogether improbable on general grounds that there should have been no stage at all during the preceding period. To suppose that the Greeks began without any stage of any kind, and then after so long a time suddenly erected a stage about twelve feet high, is a most unlikely hypothesis. But if we imagine that a stage existed from the first, and that it was a low one in the fifth century, and was then gradually raised in consequence of the changed character of the drama, the process becomes much more intelligible. The presence of a stage during the later period is strong presumptive evidence in favour of an earlier one.533

The last few years have been prolific in new theories on the subject of the stage. Most of them may be regarded as developments or modifications of Dörpfeld’s views. Before leaving this subject it may be well to give a brief account of the more important of them. Bethe considers that there can no longer be any doubt as to the existence of the Hellenistic stage. He also agrees that the passages in Aristophanes prove the use of a low stage at the time when Aristophanes wrote. But for the greater part of the fifth century he denies its existence. He considers that the first Greek stage was erected in 427 or in 426, and that this date was an important epoch in the development of the theatre. He founds his belief on the fact that after this date there is no further instance of the use of the ekkyklema, while before this date there is no example of the use of the mechane, the theologeion, and the drop-scene.534 But, in the first place, it is by no means clear why the presence or absence of these contrivances should involve the existence or non-existence of a stage. In the second place, his dates are open to question. There is no proof, as we shall see later on, that the machinery which he mentions was introduced or discontinued at the time specified. Another theory has been put forward by Weissmann. He, too, accepts the Hellenistic stage, but agrees with Dörpfeld that in the fifth century actors and chorus performed on the same level. However, he thinks that the passages in which old men complain of the steepness of the road prove that there must have been a raised platform which they had to ascend. As one of these passages—that in the Hercules Furens—is spoken by the chorus, he comes to the conclusion that there was a large platform for actors and chorus combined. This platform extended from the back-scene over a considerable part of the orchestra, and on it stood the actors and chorus, both on the same level.535 To this it may be answered, that the evidence on which he relies is far too slight a justification for such a sweeping hypothesis. Also on general grounds it is inconceivable that the Greeks, when they already possessed an orchestra which was admirably adapted for choral performances, should have taken the trouble to erect a huge platform on the top of it. Christ agrees in the main with Weissmann. He accepts the Hellenistic stage for the later period, and also the platform for the chorus in the orchestra during the fifth century. But he thinks the passages in Aristophanes prove that the actors even then stood higher than the chorus. He therefore supposes two stages: one immediately before the back-scene, for the actors; and another larger and lower one in the orchestra, for the use of the chorus.536 He thus eventually comes round to the same conclusion as Wieseler, though by a very different process. His theory, however, is open to the same objections as that of Weissmann. This orchestral platform is utterly improbable in itself, and is unsupported by any sufficient evidence. Lastly, there is Robert’s hypothesis. Robert denies the existence of a stage during the fifth century; but supposes that one was erected in the course of the fourth century for the performance of new plays, in which there was practically no chorus. Henceforth new plays were acted on the stage, old plays in front of it, in the orchestra.537 But it is impossible to suppose that in the same theatre, and at the same festival, the proscenium should have served at one time as a stage, and at another time as a background. Nor is there anything in the ancient authorities to support such a view.