Wissenschaftliche Untersuchungen

zum Neuen Testament · 2. Reihe

Herausgeber / Editor
Jörg Frey (Zürich)

Mitherausgeber / Associate Editors

Markus Bockmuehl (Oxford) · James A. Kelhoffer (Uppsala)
Hans-Josef Klauck (Chicago, IL) · Tobias Nicklas (Regensburg)
J. Ross Wagner (Durham, NC)

381
 Justin Jeffcoat Schedtler

A Heavenly Chorus
The Dramatic Function of Revelation’s Hymns

Mohr Siebeck
Justin Jeffcoat Schedtler, born 1977; 1999 BA in Liberal Arts, Saint Olaf College; 2007
MA in Religious Studies, Luther Seminary; 2011 MA in Classical and Near Eastern Studies,
University of Minnesota; 2013 PhD in New Testament, Emory University.

e-ISBN PDF 978-3-16-153127-9

ISBN 978-3-16-153126-2
ISSN 0340-9570 (Wissenschaftliche Untersuchungen zum Neuen Testament, 2. Reihe)
The Deutsche Nationalbibliothek lists this publication in the Deutsche Nationalbibliogra-
phie; detailed bibliographic data are available on the Internet at http://dnb.dnb.de.

© 2014 by Mohr Siebeck, Tübingen, Germany. www.mohr.de

This book may not be reproduced, in whole or in part, in any form (beyond that permitted by
copyright law) without the publisher’s written permission. This applies particularly to reproduc-
tions, translations, microfilms and storage and processing in electronic systems.
The book was printed by Laupp & Göbel in Nehren on non-aging paper and bound by Buch-
binderei Nädele in Nehren.
Printed in Germany.
 Preface

This monograph represents a slight revision of my dissertation, which was

submitted in August 2013 to the Department of Religion at Emory Uni-
versity. I owe a debt of gratitude to the faculty in New Testament, as well
as the librarians at Pitts Theological Library (Myron McGhee in particu-
lar), without whose general support this project would not have come to
fruition. In particular, I would like to thank the members of my dissertation
committee, which included Dr. Carol Newsom, Dr. Niall Slater, Dr. Vernon
Robbins, and my doctoral advisor, Dr. Luke Timothy Johnson. It would be
difficult to exaggerate the extent to which Luke Johnson supported me –
intellectually, personally, and gastrically – throughout the composition of
this project. Moreover, he allowed me to pursue this project on my own
terms, often in contradiction with his advice, in order for the project to be
uniquely mine. For this, I hope one day to be able to pay him back by
treating my students with the same degree of seriousness, respect, and
compassion with which he treats his own students. I would also like
especially to thank Dr. David Fredrickson, who first introduced me to the
fascinating world of Greek and Roman antiquity at Luther Seminary, and
Dr. Philip Sellew, who fostered my nascent love of ancient cultures and
texts at the University of Minnesota. Very special thanks is reserved for
Dr. Steven Kraftchick, who finally taught me what it means to do worth-
while biblical exegesis, and to Dr. Carl Holladay, who has played a critical
role at various stages of my development as a biblical scholar.
For accepting this manuscript for publication, I would like to thank the
editors at Mohr-Siebeck, especially Dr. Jörg Frey, as well as the gracious
staff, including especially Dr. Henning Ziebritzki, for their help in making
this dream a reality.
Throughout the composition of this manuscript, I longed for the day
when I would finally be able to acknowledge the role of my father, Richard
Schedtler, who died unexpectedly just prior to my beginning the project, to
bring this dream to reality. As I managed unhappily through a year of cor-
porate cubicle melancholy in 1999–2000, more than anyone else my father
convinced me of the supreme value of pursuing my vocational dreams, no
matter how ambitious and improbable they seemed at the time. This publi-
cation is a testament to his paternal wisdom. Thank you. To my mother,
VI Preface

Jan Kaste, and to my sister, Erin Onyango, I hope you’ll always know how
thankful I am to have you both in my life, and for graciously listening to
my ideas for this project. And finally, I couldn’t have asked for a better
partner, Jacqueline Jeffcoat Schedtler, to journey with throughout this
process. Thanks for everything, Jacq.

San Diego, June 2014 Justin P. Jeffcoat Schedtler

 Table of Contents

Preface..................................................................................................... V

List of Abbreviations .............................................................................. XI

Chapter 1: Introduction to the Study of Revelation’s Hymns ...... 1

1.1. Introduction ....................................................................................... 1
1.2 The History of Scholarship on Revelation’s Hymns ........................... 2
1.2.1 Hymnic Qualities and Antecedents............................................ 3
1.2.2 Liturgical Associations.............................................................. 4
1.2.3 Theological and/or Christological Implications ......................... 8
1.2.4 Structural Functions ................................................................ 13
1.3 The Dramatic Forms and Functions of Revelation’s Hymns:
Status Quaestionis............................................................................ 14
1.3.1 David Brown........................................................................... 14
1.3.2 Frederic Palmer ....................................................................... 15
1.3.3 Raymond Brewer .................................................................... 16
1.3.4 Subsequent Scholarship........................................................... 17
1.4 Methodology.................................................................................... 18
1.5 Summary of Argument..................................................................... 19

Chapter 2: The Hymns in Revelation.............................................. 22

2.1 Hymnic Material in the Ancient World ............................................ 22
2.1.1 Definition of Hymn ................................................................. 22
2.1.2 Formal Elements of Hymns ..................................................... 23
2.1.3 Types of Hymns ...................................................................... 26
2.2 Exegetical Analysis of Revelation’s Hymns ..................................... 30
2.2.1 The Heavenly Throne Room.................................................... 32
2.2.2 Rev 4:8–11.............................................................................. 37
2.2.3 Rev 5:9–14.............................................................................. 44
2.2.4 Rev 7:9–17.............................................................................. 53
2.2.5 Rev 11:15–19 .......................................................................... 59
2.2.6 Rev 12:10–12 .......................................................................... 72
VIII Table of Contents

2.2.7 Rev 15:3–4.............................................................................. 83

2.2.8 Rev 16:5–7.............................................................................. 93
2.2.9 Rev 19:1–8.............................................................................. 99

Chapter 3: The Context for Dramatic Choruses:

Choreia in Ancient Greece ............................................................. 113
3.1 Introduction ................................................................................... 113
3.2 Earliest Choral Forms in Ancient Greece ....................................... 114
3.3 Choral Poets .................................................................................. 116
3.3.1 Archaic Poets ........................................................................ 116
3.3.2 Classical Choral Poets........................................................... 119
3.3.3 Decline of Choral Poetry in the Post-Classical Period ........... 121
3.4 Types of Choral Poetry .................................................................. 122
3.4.1 Issues in Classifying Choral Poetry ....................................... 122
3.4.2 Choral Genres ....................................................................... 123
3.5 Formal Features of Choral Poetry................................................... 129
3.5.1 Meter .................................................................................... 129
3.5.2 Dialect .................................................................................. 134
3.5.3 Composition of Choruses ...................................................... 134
3.5.4 Size of Choruses ................................................................... 135
3.5.5 Dancing................................................................................. 136
3.5.6 Musical Elements .................................................................. 143
3.6 Functions of Choruses and Choral Poetry....................................... 147
3.6.1 Cultic Function(s) ................................................................. 147
3.6.2 Mythological Function(s) ...................................................... 149
3.6.3 Pedagogical Function(s) ........................................................ 150
3.6.4 Social Function(s) ................................................................. 152

Chapter 4: The Dramatic Context of Tragic Choruses:

Tragedy............................................................................................... 154
4.1 Origins of Tragedy......................................................................... 154
4.2 Athenian Tragedy in the Fifth Century........................................... 158
4.2.1 The Poets .............................................................................. 158
4.2.2 The Quasi-Historical, Quasi-Mythological Setting
of Tragedy............................................................................. 159
4.2.3 Structural Features ................................................................ 160
4.3 Greek Tragedy in the Fourth Century,
and into the Hellenistic Period ....................................................... 161
 Table of Contents IX

4.3.1 Evidence of the Tragic Form in the Fourth Century,

and Hellenistic Period ........................................................... 161
4.3.2 Formal Elements of Tragedy in the Hellenistic Period........... 164
4.4 Drama in Rome.............................................................................. 165
4.4.1 Origins of Roman Drama ...................................................... 165
4.4.2 Roman Playwrights ............................................................... 166
4.4.3 Roman Tragedy .................................................................... 168
4.5 Tragic Performance Contexts ......................................................... 170
4.5.1 Festivals in the Fifth Century ................................................ 170
4.5.2 Performance Contexts in the Fourth Century
and into the Hellenistic Period............................................... 176
4.6 Dramatic Performance in the Roman Period................................... 180
4.6.1 Increasing Number of Performance Contexts......................... 180
4.6.2 Roman Acting Guilds ............................................................ 182
4.6.3 Recitatio................................................................................ 183
4.7 Theatre Buildings........................................................................... 185
4.7.1 Theatres in the Classical Period............................................. 185
4.7.2 Theatres in the Fourth Century and Hellenistic Period........... 189
4.7.3 Theatres in the Roman Period................................................ 192

Chapter 5: Forms and Functions of the Tragic Chorus

in the Classical Period ..................................................................... 196
5.1. Introduction ................................................................................... 196
5.2. The Forms of Tragic Choruses in the Classical Period ................... 197
5.2.1 The Constitution of the Chorus and Choral Personnel ........... 197
5.2.2 Spatial Elements: The Chorus in the Greek Theatre............... 202
5.2.3 Types of Choral Lyrics.......................................................... 209
5.2.4 Formal Properties of the Choral Lyrics.................................. 220
5.2.5 Musical Dynamics................................................................. 223
5.3 The Functions of Tragic Choruses in the Classical Period
with Respect to the Surrounding Speech and Dialogue
of the Characters ............................................................................ 225
5.3.1 Method.................................................................................. 225
5.3.2 Chorus as “Protagonist” ........................................................ 226
5.3.3 Moving Forward the Dramatic Action ................................... 228
5.3.4 Casting the Surrounding Dramatic Action
in a Particular Light .............................................................. 231
5.3.5 The “Voice” of the Chorus .................................................... 246
5.4. Trends in the Function(s) of the Chorus in the Classical Period...... 255
5.4.1 Quantitative Decline.............................................................. 256
5.4.2 Qualitative Decline ............................................................... 256
X Table of Contents

Chapter 6: Forms and Functions of the Tragic Chorus

in the Fourth Century and Beyond ................................................ 262
6.1 The Forms of the Chorus in Post-Classical Tragedy ....................... 262
6.1.1 The Constitution of the Chorus and Choral Personnel ........... 263
6.1.2 Spatial Elements: The Chorus in the Hellenistic
and Roman Theatre ............................................................... 265
6.1.3 Types of Choral Lyrics in Hellenistic and Roman Tragedy.... 267
6.1.4 Formal Elements of Tragic Choral Lyrics
in Post-Classical Tragedy ...................................................... 275
6.2 Functions of Tragic Choruses in the Post-Classical Periods
Prior to Seneca............................................................................... 278
6.2.1 The Rhesus............................................................................ 278
6.2.2 The Chorus in Roman Republican Tragedy ........................... 280
6.3 Functions of Tragic Choruses in Senecan Tragedy ......................... 283
6.3.1 Moving Forward the Dramatic Action ................................... 283
6.3.2 Casting the Dramatic Action in a Particular Context.............. 285

Chapter 7: Revelation’s Hymns as Choral Lyrics ....................... 298

7.1 A Chorus in Revelation? ................................................................ 298
7.1.1 Method.................................................................................. 298
7.1.2 The 24 Elders ........................................................................ 301
7.1.3 Other Groups of Heavenly Characters as Choruses? .............. 303
7.2 Choral Lyrics in Revelation? ......................................................... 305
7.2.1 Classifying Revelation’s Hymns in Terms of the
Various Types of Choral Lyrics............................................. 305
7.2.2 Revelation’s Hymns in Terms of the Formal
Characteristics of Tragic Choral Lyrics ................................. 308
7.2.3 Revelation’s Hymns in terms of the Functions of Tragic
Choral Lyrics vis-à-vis the Surrounding Dramatic Action ..... 310
7.3 The “Voice” in Revelation’s Hymns .............................................. 316
7.4 Conclusions ................................................................................... 317

Bibliography ......................................................................................... 321

Index of Ancient Sources ...................................................................... 347

Index of Modern Authors ...................................................................... 371
Subject Index ........................................................................................ 377
 List of Abbreviations

AB Anchor Bible
AJA American Journal of Archaeology
AJP American Journal of Philology
AJT Asia Journal of Theology
ANRW Aufstieg und Niedergang der römischen Welt: Geschichte und Kultur
Roms im Spiegel der neueren Forschung. Edited by Hildegard
Temporini and Wolfgang Haase. Berlin/New York: Walter de
Gruyter, 1972ff.
ATD Das Alte Testament Deutsch
AThR Anglican Theological Review
AUSS Andrews University Seminary Studies
BBR Bulletin for Biblical Research
Bergk Poetae lyrici Graeci. Edited by Theodor Bergk. Leipzig: Teubner,
1882.
Bib Biblica
BibInt Biblical Interpretation
BICS Bulletin of the Institute of Classical Studies
BR Biblical Research
BWANT Beiträge zur Wissenschaft vom Alten und Neuen Testament
BZNW Beihefte zur Zeitschrift für die neutestamentliche Wissenschaft
Campbell Greek Lyric. Vol. II: Anacreon, Anacreontea, Choral Lyric from
Olympus to Alcman. Edited and translated by David A. Campbell.
Cambridge, Mass.: Harvard University Press, 1988.
CBQ Catholic Biblical Quarterly
CH Church History
CJ Classical Journal
CP Classical Philology
CQ Classical Quarterly
CurTM Currents in Theology and Mission
CTR Criswell Theological Review
Diehl Anthologia Lyrica Graeca. Fasc. III. Edited by Ernst Diehl and
Rudolf Beutler. Leipzig: Teubner, 1952
EeV Espérance et vie
ETR Études théologiques et religieuses
EvQ Evangelical Quarterly
ExAud Ex auditu
ExpTim Expository Times
FN Filología neotestamentaria
FRLANT Forschungen zur Religion und Literatur des Alten und Neuen
Testaments
XII List of Abbreviations

GR Greece and Rome

GRBS Greek, Roman, and Byzantine Studies
HNT Handbuch zum Neuen Testament
HSCP Harvard Studies in Classical Philology
HTR Harvard Theological Review
HUCA Hebrew Union College Annual
IBS Irish Biblical Studies
IG Inscriptiones graecae: Editio minor. Berlin: Walter de Gruyter,
1924ff.
Imm Immanuel
Int Interpretation
JBL Journal of Biblical Literature
JHS Journal of Hellenic Studies
JJS Journal of Jewish Studies
JR Journal of Religion
JSJ Journal for the Study of Judaism in the Persion, Hellenistic, and
Roman Periods
JSNT Journal for the Study of the New Testament
JSNTSup Journal for the Study of the New Testament: Supplement Series
JSOTSup Journal for the Study of the Old Testament: Supplement Series
JTS Journal of Theological Studies
Jud Judaica
Kassel/Austin Poetae comici Graeci. Vol. I: Comoedia Dorica, Mimi, Phlyaces.
Edited by Rudolf Kassel and Colin Austin. Berlin/New York: Walter
de Gruyter, 2001.
KEK Kritisch-exegetischer Kommentar über das Neue Testament
LD Lectio divina
Louw-Nida Greek-English Lexicon of the New Testament: Based on Semantic
Domains. 2 vols. Edited by Johannes P. Louw and Eugene Albert
Nida. New York: United Bible Societies, 1999.
NJahrb Neue Jahrbücher für das klassische Altertum
NovT Novum Testamentum
NTOA Novum testamentum et orbis antiquus
NTS New Testament Studies
OBO Orbis biblicus et orientalis
OGIS Orientis graeci inscriptiones selectae. Edited by Wilhelm Ditten-
berger. 2 vols. Leipzig: Teubner, 1903–1905.
PGM Papyri Graecae Magicae: Die Griechischen Zauberpapyri. Edited by
Karl Preisendanz and Albert Henrichs. 2 vols. 2nd ed. Stuttgart:
Teubner, 1974.
Phil Philologus
PMG Poetae melici Graeci: Alcmanis, Stesichori, Ibyci, Anacreontis,
Simonidis, Corinnae, poetarum minorum reliquias, carmina
popularia et convivialia quaeque adespota feruntur. Edited by Denys
L. Page. Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1962.
PRSt Perspectives in Religious Studies
PW Paulys Realencyclopädie der classischen Altertumswissenschaft.
New edition by Georg Wissowa. Stuttgart: Druckenmüller, 1893ff.
RAC Reallexikon for Antike und Christentum. Edited by Theodor Klauser
et al. Stuttgart: Kohlhammer, 1950ff.
 List of Abbreviations XIII

RB Revue biblique
REA Revue des études anciennes
REG Revue des études grecques
RevQ Revue de Qumran
RhM Rheinisches Museum
RHPR Revue d’histoire et de philosophie religieuses
SEG Supplementum epigraphicum graecum
SBLSP Society of Biblical Literature Seminar Papers
SGRR Studies in Greek and Roman Religion
SIG3 Sylloge Inscriptionum Graecarum. Edited by Wilhelm Dittenberger.
3 rd edition. 4 vols. Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1974.
SJ Studia Judaica
SNT Studien zum Neuen Testament
SNTSMS Society for New Testament Studies Monograph Series
STAC Studien und Texte zu Antike und Christentum
StudNeot Studia neotestamentica
SVTQ St. Vladimir’s Theological Quarterly
TAPA Transactions of the American Philological Association
TBT The Bible Today
TDNT Theological Dictionary of the New Testament. Edited by Gerhard
Kittel and Gerhard Friedrich. Translated by Geoffrey William
Bromiley. 10 vols. Grand Rapids, Mich.: Eerdmans, 1964–1976.
TDOT Theological Dictionary of the Old Testament. Edited by G. Johannes
Botterweck, Helmer Ringgren, and Heinz-Josef Fabry. Translated by
John T. Willis, Geoffrey W. Bromiley, and David E. Green. 15 vols.
Grand Rapids, Mich: Eerdmans, 1974–2006.
TrGF Tragicorum Graecorum Fragmenta. Edited by Bruno Snell, Richard
Kannicht, and Stefan Radt. Göttingen: Vandenhoeck and Ruprecht,
1971.
TPQ Theologisch-praktische Quartalschrift
VC Vigiliae christianae
Voigt Sappho et Alcaeus: Fragmenta. Edited by Eva-Maria Voigt. Amster-
dam, Athenaeum-Polak and Van Gennep, 1971.
VR Vox reformata
VT Vetus Testamentum
WBC Word Biblical Commentary
West Iambi et elegi Graeci ante Alexandrum cantati. Edited by Martin L.
West. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1989.
WMANT Wissenschaftliche Monographien zum Alten und Neuen Testament
WSt Wiener Studien
WUNT Wissenschaftliche Untersuchungen zum Neuen Testament
YCS Yale Classical Studies
ZNW Zeitschrift für die neutestamentliche Wissenschaft
ZPE Zeitschrift für Papyrologie und Epigraphik
 Chapter 1

Introduction to the Study of Revelation’s Hymns

1.1 Introduction

At several points throughout the book of Revelation, heavenly creatures

sing songs of praise to God and the Lamb. These songs, which can be iden-
tified as hymns on account of their formal and functional characteristics,
have been evaluated extensively in terms of their similarities with hymns
in antecedent literature, affinities with early Jewish and Christian liturgical
forms, and theological and Christological value in Revelation.
This study considers the extent to which Revelation’s hymns bear
formal and functional similarities with choral lyrics of ancient tragedy. The
notion that Revelation’s hymns can be considered in terms of ancient
tragic choral lyrics is not a novel one. In fact, the dramatic function of
Revelation’s hymns in this regard has been widely acknowledged, most
often with a variation of the claim that the hymns function as did Classical
tragic choral lyrics insofar as they “comment upon” or “interpret” the sur-
rounding narrative. The claim has attained near axiomatic status, despite
the fact that neither a comprehensive study, nor even a single article, has
ever been devoted to it.
The value of such a claim is minimal, as it simply does not go very far
in explaining the function of Revelation’s hymns, and it immediately begs
questions of the precise ways in which Revelation’s hymns comment upon
and/or interpret the surrounding plot. Not surprisingly, the premise for
such a claim, that tragic choruses function to comment upon and/or inter-
pret the surrounding dramatic dialogue, is problematic. Such a premise not
only fails to reflect the breadth and depth of choral functions in tragedy,
but in many cases actually mischaracterizes the functions of choral lyrics.
This study thus aims to advance this line of inquiry by offering a com-
prehensive analysis of the forms and functions of ancient tragic choruses
throughout the Classical, Hellenistic, and Roman periods, with the purpose
of providing a comprehensive framework by which to evaluate Revela-
tion’s hymns in dramatic terms. By revealing the varieties and complexi-
ties of the forms and functions of ancient tragic choruses, I demonstrate
that Revelation’s hymns are not best evaluated in terms of choral lyrics
generally, but in terms of dramatic hymns specifically. That is, the hymns
2 Chapter 1: Introduction to the Study of Revelation’s Hymns

in Revelation do not exhibit the wide variety of functions as reflected in

tragic choral lyrics; rather, they replicate the functions of ancient tragic
hymns insofar as they constitute mythological-theological reflections on
the surrounding narrative, and function to situate the surrounding dramatic
activity in a particular mythological-theological context.

1.2 The History of Scholarship on Revelation’s Hymns

The hymns have not always been thought to constitute a vital part of the
rhetorical, theological, or narrative agenda of the Apocalypse. To the
contrary, they have often been considered mere interruptions between the
vision sequences, which are themselves thought to contain the essential
narrative, theological, and Christological elements in the text. The subordi-
nation of the hymns to other elements of Revelation is sometimes made
explicit, as when they are labeled “interludes” or “interruptions,” which
presumes that the hymns represent something peripheral or tangential to
the essential material.1 Just as often the hymns’ subordinate role is tacitly
assumed, and they are given minimal attention relative to other elements in
the text, or ignored altogether.2
That Revelation’s hymns have suffered scholarly neglect is reflected in
the fact that many general studies of hymnic material in the New Testa-
ment offer only minimal commentary on the hymns in Revelation. So, for
instance, in his otherwise inclusive summary of the content and style of
New Testament hymns, Gloer makes only a passing reference to the fact

1
E.g., Jürgen Roloff, The Revelation of John (Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 1993), 13;
cf. David Carnegie, who considers the hymns to be “ancillary” to the visions. Carnegie,
“Worthy is the Lamb: The Hymns in Revelation,” in Christ the Lord: Studies in Christol-
ogy Presented to Donald Guthrie (ed. Harold H. Rowdon; Downers Grove, Ill.: Inter-
Varsity, 1982), 248. Leonard L. Thompson has worked to combat this characterization.
Leonard L. Thompson, The Book of Revelation: Apocalypse and Empire (Oxford: Oxford
University Press, 1990), 53–63.
2
For instance, in Beasley-Murray’s commentary, the hymns in chapters 4 and 5
receive only the scantest attention relative to other elements in the throne-room scene,
which he considers to be the theological and narrative “fulcrum” of Revelation. His
neglect of the hymns (other than a couple of minimal comments as to their possible
sources) reveals his presumption that the hymns do not contribute substantively to the
work as a whole: George R. Beasley-Murray, The Book of Revelation (New York: Harper-
Collins, 1974). Such neglect is not unprecedented in the history of scholarship on the
Apocalypse. In his commentary, Eugene Boring fails to say a single thing about several
of the hymns. E. Boring, Revelation (Louisville: Westminster John Knox Press, 1989).
Cf. the sparse treatment of the hymns in J. Massyngbaerde Ford, Revelation (Garden
City, N.Y.: Doubleday, 1975); John M. Court, Myth and History in the Book of Revelation
(London: SPCK, 1979).
 1.2 The History of Scholarship on Revelation’s Hymns 3

that there may be “fragments” of early Christian hymns in Revelation, and

says nothing about them in terms of their style and content, or their
similarity (or dissimilarity) to other New Testament hymns.3 Likewise, in
his otherwise comprehensive analysis of the forms and functions of New
Testament hymns, Deichgräber pays only scant attention to Revelation’s
hymns.4 Even more egregious are those studies of New Testament hymns
in which the hymns in Revelation are neglected entirely, as is the case with
Karris’ brief survey of New Testament hymns,5 Jack Sanders’ monograph
on early Christian hymns,6 and Edgar Krentz’s study of New Testament
hymns in light of hymnic antecedents in the Greek, Hellenistic, and Roman
world.7
Thus, in the history of scholarship, the hymns in Revelation have
suffered from neglect relative to other portions of the Apocalypse, and in
relation to analogous hymnic material in the New Testament. Still, some
have recognized that the hymns constitute an essential feature of individual
units of Revelation, and of the work as a whole. Scholarship on the hymns
may be divided into several major categories as follows.

1.2.1 Hymnic Qualities and Antecedents

The hymns in Revelation are often considered in terms of their affinities
with antecedent hymnic material, including hymnic texts in the Hebrew
Bible (e.g., the Psalter,8 the Tersanctus in Isa 6:3,9 and Ezekiel10), hymns

3
W. Hulitt Gloer, “Homologies and Hymns in the New Testament: Form, Content, and
Criteria for Identification,” PRS 11 (1984): 115–132.
4
Reinhard Deichgräber, Gotteshymnus und Christushymnus in der frühen Christen-
heit: Untersuchungen zu Form, Sprache und Stil der frühchristlichen Hymnen (Göttin-
gen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 1967), 44–59.
5
Robert J. Karris, A Symphony of New Testament Hymns (Collegeville, Minn.: Litur-
gical Press, 1996).
6
Jack T. Sanders, The New Testament Christological Hymns: Their Historical Relig-
ious Background (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1971).
7
Edgar Krentz, “Epideiktik and Hymnody: The New Testament and Its World,” BR 40
(1995): 50–97. Cf. Johannes Schattenmann, Studien zum neutestamentlichen Prosahym-
nus (München: C. H. Beck, 1965); Josef Kroll, Die christliche Hymnodik bis zu Klemens
von Alexandreia (Darmstadt: Wissenschaftliche Buchgesellschaft, 1968); Klaus Wengst,
Christologische Formeln und Lieder des Urchristentums (Gütersloh: Gerd Mohn, 1972).
8
Lucetta Mowry, “Revelation 4–5 and Early Christian Liturgical Usage,” JBL 71
(1952): 78ff.; David Flusser, “Psalms, Hymns, and Prayers,” in Jewish Writings of the
Second Temple Period (ed. Michael E. Stone; Assen: Van Gorcum, 1994), 551–577; Ralph
P. Martin, Worship in the Early Church (Westwood, N.J.: Fleming H. Revell, 1964), 39–52.
9
Mowry, “Revelation 4–5 and Early Christian Liturgical Usage,” 78.
10
Albert Vanhoye, “L’utilisation du livre d’Ézéchiel dans l’Apocalypse,” Bib 43
(1962): 436–467; Jeffrey M. Vogelgesang, “The Interpretation of Ezekiel in the Book of
Revelation,” (Ph.D. diss., Harvard University, 1985).
4 Chapter 1: Introduction to the Study of Revelation’s Hymns

in non-canonical Jewish texts, including pseudipigraphic and apocryphal

texts, and fragments from Qumran,11 as well as non-Jewish hymns in the
Greek, Hellenistic, and Roman world.12 In the following chapter, Revel-
ation’s hymns will be evaluated in light of these antecedent hymnic
traditions.

1.2.2 Liturgical Associations

The identification of Revelation’s hymns as hymns has led to questions of
whether they derived from a particular liturgical context. Scholarly atten-
tion has focused on the question of the extent to which Revelation’s hymns
might be traced to an antecedent liturgical context, such as the Temple or
Synagogue service, early Christian liturgies, or Imperial Roman court cere-
monials.

Temple Services
Leonard Thompson has suggested that the depictions of hymn-singing in
Revelation can be understood in terms of various liturgies of the Second
Temple period, and that the hymns themselves are patterned to some de-
gree after songs sung in these Temple services.13 For example, Thompson
considers the setting of the hymn in Revelation 5 in terms of the order of
events in the daily Minḥa service, believing that they serve as a blueprint
for the depiction of the slaughtered lamb (Rev 5:6), offering of incense
(Rev 5:8), and the singing of a hymn (Rev 5:9–11).14 Moreover, Thompson
argues that the “New Song” (Rev 5:9–11), whose content emphasizes the
redemptive qualities of the Lamb, resembles the descriptions of God’s own
redemptive activity as presented in the Geullah benediction of the Temple
service(s).15 While Thompson’s suggestion that the Temple setting is a
viable one in which to consider the depiction of the hymn-singing in

11
Dale C. Allison, Jr., “4Q 403 Fragm. I, Col. I, 38–46 and the Revelation to John,”
RdQ 12 [47] (1986): 409–414; Allison, Jr., “The Silence of the Angels: Reflections on
the Songs of the Sabbath Sacrifice,” RdQ 13 (1988): 189–197; Otto Böcher, “Die
Johannes-Apokalypse und die Texte von Qumran,” ANRW II 25,5 (1988): 3894–3898;
Larry Hurtado, “Revelation 4–5 in the Light of Jewish Apocalyptic Analogies,” JSNT 25
(1985): 105–124; Johann Maier, “Zu Kult und Liturgie der Qumrangemeinde,” RdQ 14
[56] (1990): 543–586; Andy L. Warren-Rothlin, “A Trisagion Inserted in the 4QSam(a)
Version of the Song of Hannah, 1Sam 2,1–10,” JJS 45 (1994): 278–285.
12
Most often studies of Revelation’s hymns in terms of hymnic antecedents in the
Greek and Roman world are part and parcel of larger, more general studies on the hymnic
material in the New Testament.
13
Leonard L. Thompson, “The Form and Function of Hymns in the New Testament: A
Study in Cultic History,” (Ph.D. diss., University of Chicago, 1968), 75ff.
14
Thompson, “The Form and Function of Hymns,” 75–76.
15
Thompson, “The Form and Function of Hymns,” 77, esp. n. 1.
 1.2 The History of Scholarship on Revelation’s Hymns 5

Revelation has gained traction,16 his argument that elements of the hymns
can be traced to particular songs of the Temple services has not garnered
much support.

Synagogue Worship
Others have traced the hymns to Jewish synagogue worship. Mowry, for
example, has suggested that the New Song in Revelation 5, which bears
affinities with the Geullah benediction of the Shema, derived not from the
Temple service but from the synagogue.17 She and others have recognized
affinities between the hymn of the Elders in Revelation (Rev 4:8–11), in
which the creative powers of the divine are the basis for the claim that God
deserves “glory, honor, and power,” and liturgical elements as they are
described in the Qedushah, which forms the center of the first blessing of
the morning synagogue service.18 Lending to the notion that the hymns
themselves bear associations with Jewish liturgical traditions is the fact
that the depictions of the hymn-singing in Revelation bear affinities with
known synagogue worship traditions.19
Finally, some have suggested that Revelation’s hymns can be traced to
the worship practices of early Jewish communities by virtue of the fact that
the portrayal of celestial worship in Revelation bears similarities with de-
pictions of heavenly liturgies in the Hebrew Bible (e.g., Ezekiel 1–10; 40–
16
Cf. Robert A. Briggs, Jewish Temple Imagery in the Book of Revelation (New York:
Peter Lang, 1999); Édouard Cothenet, “Le symbolisme du culte dans l’Apocalypse,” in
Le symbolisme dans le culte des grandes religions: Actes du colloque de Louvain-la-
Neuve 4–5 Octobre, 1983 (ed. Julien Ries; Louvain-la-Neuve: Centre d’Histoire des
Religions, 1985), 223–238; Jon Paulien, “The Role of the Hebrew Cultus, Sanctuary, and
the Temple in the Plot and Structure of the Book of Revelation,” AUSS 33 (1995): 245–
264; Peter Wick, Die urchristlichen Gottesdienste: Entstehung und Entwicklung im Rah-
men der frühjüdischen Tempel-, Synagogen- und Hausfrömmigkeit (BWANT 150; Stutt-
gart: Kohlhammer, 2002).
17
Mowry, “Revelation 4–5 and Early Christian Liturgical Usage,” 80.
18
See Pierre Prigent, Commentary on the Apocalypse of St. John (trans. Wendy
Pradels; Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2011), 29; cf. Mowry, “Revelation 4–5 and Early
Christian Liturgical Usage,” 79.
19
For example, insofar as the scroll described in Rev 5:1ff. may represent the Torah,
or some specific part of the Torah, the description of the Lamb breaking its seals and
opening the scrolls which precedes the hymns at Rev 5:9–10; 12–13 may allude to the
reading of scripture in synagogue worship. Mowry, “Revelation 4–5 and Early Christian
Liturgical Usage,” 81–83; cf. Otto A. Piper, “The Liturgical Character of the Apoca-
lypse,” CH 20 (1951): 13ff. For further considerations of the Jewish liturgical context of
Revelation’s hymns, see Phillip Sigal, “Early Christian and Rabbinic Liturgical Affini-
ties: Exploring Liturgical Acculturation,” NTS 30 (1984): 63–90; Eric Werner, “The
Doxology in Synagogue and Early Church: A Liturgico-Musical Study,” HUCA 19
(1945): 275–351; Mowry, “Revelation 4–5 and Early Christian Liturgical Usage,” 79ff.;
cf. Martin, Worship in the Early Church, 39–52.
6 Chapter 1: Introduction to the Study of Revelation’s Hymns

48; Isaiah 6) and in Early Jewish literature (e.g., Songs of the Sabbath
Sacrifice; Apocalypse of Abraham; 3 En. 1:13). In other words, insofar as
these depictions of heavenly worship in the Hebrew Bible are thought to
reflect earthly practices of the communities who wrote and read them, such
heavenly depictions of worship in Revelation may similarly reflect earthly
worship practices.20

Early Christian Liturgies

Clear affinities with antecedent Jewish liturgical material and traditions
have led to speculation that the hymns in Revelation, and the depictions of
the contexts in which the hymns are sung, reflect hymns and liturgical
practices of the communities amongst which Revelation first circulated.21
Evidence marshaled in support of this supposition include the claim that
John’s visions were revealed to him “on the Lord’s Day” (Rev 1:10),22
form-critical assessments which suggest that the hymns were comprised of
pre-existing material,23 and positive comparisons of the hymns’ content
with known liturgical forms in the early Christian church.24

20
See Prigent, Commentary, 23; Josephine Massyngbaerde Ford, “The Christological
Function of the Hymns in the Apocalypse of John,” AUSS 36 (1998): 208–211. Cf. John
Strugnell, “The Angelic Liturgy at Qumran – 4Q Serek Sîrôt ‘Ôlat Haššabbāt,” VT 7
(1959): 318–345; Geza Vermes, The Dead Sea Scrolls in English (3rd ed.; New York:
Penguin, 1987), 221.
21
Oscar Cullmann, Early Christian Worship (London: SCM Press, 1953), 1–8;
Martin, Worship in the Early Church, 39–52; Mowry, “Revelation 4–5 and Early
Christian Liturgical Usage,” 75–84; Piper, “The Liturgical Character of the Apocalypse,”
17ff.; John O’Rourke, “The Hymns of the Apocalypse,” CBQ 30 (1968): 399–408; Pierre
Prigent, Apocalypse et liturgie (Neuchâtel: Éditions Delachaux et Niestlé, 1964); Massey
H. Shepherd, Jr., The Paschal Liturgy and the Apocalypse (Richmond, Va.: John Knox
Press, 1960), 77–91; Henry Barclay Swete, Commentary on Revelation (3rd ed.; Grand
Rapids, Mich.: Kregel, 1977).
22
That is, if “the Lord’s Day” refers to the Christian day of worship, then it is sup-
posed that the visions would naturally reflect the liturgical elements of Christian worship.
Shepherd, Jr., The Paschal Liturgy and the Apocalypse, 78.
23
It has been argued that if the hymns represent pre-existent material (determined on
the basis of incongruity with the surrounding text, hapax legomena, highly stylized
elements, or by comparison with known earlier forms), they were likely to be drawn from
early Christian worship. See, e.g., Thompson, “The Form and Function of Hymns,” 8ff.;
O’Rourke, “The Hymns of the Apocalypse,” 399–409.
24
So, for instance, the appearance in Revelation’s hymns of expressions that surfaced
in later Christian liturgies such as “Amen” (Rev 5:14; 7:12; 19:4) and “Halleluia” (Rev
19:1–6), likewise suggests that the hymns reflect, at least to some degree, early Christian
liturgical traditions. Moreover, the appearance of the Trisagion (“Holy, holy, holy …”) in
Rev 4:8, and the phrase εὐχαριστοῦµεν σοι … ὅτι (Rev 11:17), may reflect early Chris-
tian liturgical traditions, as each appears in early Christian texts (i.e., 1 Clem. 34:6; Did.
10:4) thought to describe liturgical practices. S. Läuchli has gone so far as to propose that
 1.2 The History of Scholarship on Revelation’s Hymns 7

Others reject the notion that the hymns reflect actual liturgical material
of the early Church, suggesting instead that they were original composi-
tions of the author, often on the grounds that the hymns’ formal elements
do not meet form-critical criteria for pre-existing material, and that spe-
cific liturgical contexts cannot be identified for most of the hymns in
Revelation.25

Imperial Court Ceremonial

Aune has argued that the portrayal of hymns sung to God and the Lamb in
Revelation is best understood in terms of hymnic praise to Roman
emperors,26 a practice that was common and widespread in the 1st c. C.E.27
Examples of surviving hymns for emperors are non-existent, and so evalu-

Revelation’s hymns followed to a certain extent the order of the Eucharist as it was
reflected in Justin’s account(s) of the Baptismal (Justin, Apol. 1:65ff.) and Sunday
Eucharist (Justin, Apol. 1:67), and that each reflects the unique liturgical practices of dis-
tinct Christian communities. Samuel Läuchli, “Eine Gottesdienststruktur in der Johannes-
offenbarung,” ThZ 16 (1960): 359–378; David E. Aune, “The Influence of Roman Im-
perial Court Ceremonial on the Apocalypse of John,” BR 28 (1983): 7; Robert H. Smith,
“‘Worthy is the Lamb’ and Other Songs of the Revelation,” CurTM 25 (1998): 502;
James H. Srawley, The Early History of the Liturgy (Cambridge: Cambridge University
Press, 1913), 29ff.; Carnegie, “Worthy is the Lamb,” 244–245; Klaus-Peter Jörns, Das
hymnische Evangelium: Untersuchungen zu Aufbau, Funktion und Herkunft der hymni-
schen Stücke in der Johannesoffenbarung (SNT 5; Gütersloh: Gütersloher Verlagshaus
Gerd Mohn, 1971), 99.
25
Carnegie, "Worthy is the Lamb,” 243–256; Jean-Pierre Ruiz, “Revelation 4:8–11;
5:9–14: Hymns of the Heavenly Liturgy,” SBLSP 34 (1995): 216–220; Frédéric Manns,
“Traces d’une haggadic pascale chrétienne dans l’Apocalypse de Jean?,” Anton 56
(1981): 265–295; Smith, “Worthy is the Lamb,” 500–506; Leonard L. Thompson, “Wor-
ship in the Book of Revelation,” ExAu 8 (1992): 45–54; Charles F. D. Moule, Worship in
the New Testament (Louisville: John Knox Press, 1961), 64; Jörns, Evangelium, 99ff.;
Ruiz, “Revelation 4:8–11; 5:9–14,” 216; Gerhard Delling, “Zum gottesdienstlichen Stil
der Johannesapokalypse,” NovT 3 (1959): 134ff.; Deichgräber, Gotteshymnus und Chris-
tushymnus, 58ff.
26
Aune, “Influence of Roman Imperial Court Ceremonial,” 5–26.
27
Aune claims that the Senate customarily praised the emperor with hymns, which
could sometimes be taken to extremes. Dio Cassius reported that an entire day was spent
in the senate praising Gaius Caligula (Dio Cassius 59.24.5), and that hymnic acclama-
tions were a regular part of the honors bestowed on emperors as they traveled throughout
the empire, especially in the Eastern provinces. He cites the Res Gestae, in which it is
recorded that the name of Caesar Augustus was included in the Salian hymn (Res Gestae
Divi Augustae 10), and the existence of the 5,000 equestrian men who constantly
shadowed Nero and offered praise for him (Tacitus, Annals 14.15). On the practice of
hymning emperors, see Dominique Cuss, Imperial Cult and Honorary Terms in the New
Testament (Fribourg: University Press, 1974); Erik Peterson, ΕΙΣ ΘΕΟΣ: Epigraphische,
formgeschichtliche und religionsgeschichtliche Untersuchungen (FRLANT 41; Göttingen:
Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 1926), 176–179.
8 Chapter 1: Introduction to the Study of Revelation’s Hymns

ating the content and form of Revelation’s hymns in terms of them is not
possible. However, Aune demonstrates that the portrayal of hymning God
and the Lamb in Revelation bears some similarities with what is known of
imperial court ceremonials. Aune maintains that the general setting for
hymn-singing in Revelation recalls praise of emperors. For example, Aune
argues that the depiction of God in Revelation resembles that of a ruling
emperor insofar as God sits upon a throne meting judgment upon those
who have “breached divine law,” and rewarding the righteous.28 More spe-
cifically, Aune contends that the identities of some of those who sing the
hymns can be understood in terms of imperial court proceedings, i.e., the
24 Elders (4:10; 5:8; 7:11; 11:16; 16:5), the “myriads of myriads” (Rev
7:9; 15:2; 19:1, 6), and “every creature in the universe” (Rev 5:13). Accord-
ing to Aune, the 24 Elders’ white apparel (Rev 4:4), and the act of throw-
ing down their crowns before the throne (Rev 4:10), reflects the practice of
dignitaries receiving a king,29 while the depiction of the “myriads of
myriads,” “great multitudes,” and “every creature in the universe” paying
obeisance to God and the Lamb (Rev 5:11; 7:9; 19:1, 3, 6), reflects the
Imperial ideal of consensus omnium, the principle by which an emperor
assumed and maintained power on the basis of universal consent. These
proposals have been well-received, with most scholars acknowledging that
the Imperial court ceremonial is indeed one context among others in which
to consider the throne-room scene in which Revelation’s hymns are sung,
as well as the hymns themselves.30

1.2.3 Theological and/or Christological Implications

Attention often focuses on the theological and Christological value of
Revelation’s hymns, especially with respect to the ways in which they con-
tribute to the theological and/or Christological orientation of Revelation as
a whole.31 Because the theological and Christological implications of Rev-

28
Aune, “Influence of Roman Imperial Court Ceremonial,” 8–9.
29
Aune, “Influence of Roman Imperial Court Ceremonial,” 12–13.
30
Smith, “Worthy is the Lamb,” 503–504; Peder Borgen, “Moses, Jesus, and the
Roman Emperor: Observations in Philo’s Writings and the Revelation to John,” NovT 38
(1996): 145–159; Gregory M. Stevenson, “Conceptual Background to Golden Crown
Imagery in the Apocalypse of John (4,4.10; 14,14),” JBL 114 (1995): 257–272.
31
Carnegie, “Worthy is the Lamb,” 243–256, 207–229; Smith, “Worthy is the Lamb,”
500–506; Thompson, The Book of Revelation, 69ff.; Martin Hengel, “Hymnus und Chris-
tologie,” in Wort in der Zeit (Leiden: Brill, 1980), 1–23; Klaus-Peter Jörns, “Proklama-
tion und Akklamation: Die antiphonische Grundordnung des frühchristlichen Gottes-
dienstes nach der Johannesoffenbarung,” in Liturgie und Dichtung: Ein interdisziplinäres
Kompendium (2 vols.; ed. Hansjakob Becker; St. Ottilien: EOS, 1983), 1:187–207; A.
Robert Nusca, “Heavenly Worship, Ecclesial Worship” (Ph.D. diss., Pontifical Gregorian
University, 2008); O’Rourke, “The Hymns of the Apocalypse,” 399–409; Ruiz, “Revel-
 1.2 The History of Scholarship on Revelation’s Hymns 9

elation’s hymns will be taken up in great detail in the following chapter, I

will only briefly mention in what follows some of the major positions.

Theological and Christological Epithets

Much of the content of the hymns consists of epithets that characterize
God and the Lamb in various ways. Such titles are often evaluated in terms
of their meaning(s) in antecedent literature, their relationship to theological
and Christological titles elsewhere in the New Testament, and their con-
tribution to an understanding of the theological and Christological claims
being made in Revelation.32

Kingship Motifs
Many scholars have recognized the prevalence of kingship motifs as they
are applied to God and to the Lamb in the hymns, and the importance of
these motifs in constructing a theology and Christology in the text. The
extent to which God is portrayed as heavenly sovereign is reflected in
various titles, e.g., “Lord God Almighty” (4:8; 11:16; 15:3; 16:7; 19:6),
“One seated on the throne” (5:13; 7:10), and “King of the nations”
(15:3).33 At the same time, the Lamb is also designated a king in the hymns
as, for example, when he is granted the sovereign prerogatives of God
(δόξα, δύναµις, τιµή, etc.) in Rev 5:12–13. The sovereignty of the Lamb is
even more conspicuous in Rev 11:15, when he is designated a ruler over
the “kingdom of the world,”34 and in Rev 12:10, where the Messiah is said
to hold “authority” in the “Kingdom of God.”
The identification of God and the Lamb as king(s) in the hymns reflects
the portrayal of God and the Lamb as king(s) elsewhere in the text as, for
example, in the depictions of God and the Lamb upon the throne (Rev 4:2;
5:6; passim) surrounded by those who appear and act in ways that evoke a

ation 4:8–11; 5:9–14,” 216–220; Jean-Pierre Ruiz, “The Politics of Praise: A Reading of
Rev 19:1–10,” SBLSP 36 (1997): 374–393; Gottfried Schimanowski, “Connecting
Heaven and Earth,” in Heavenly Realms and Earthly Realities in Late Antique Religions
(ed. Ra’anan Boustan and Annette Reed; Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2004),
67–84; Gottfried Schimanowski, Die himmlische Liturgie in der Apokalypse des Johan-
nes (WUNT 2.154; Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2002); Elisabeth Schüssler-Fiorenza, The
Book of Revelation: Justice and Judgment (Philadelphia: Fortress Press, 1985), 73–76.
32
See, e.g., Robert H. Charles, The Revelation of St. John (2nd ed.; Edinburgh: T & T
Clark, 1956), cx–cxiv; Swete, The Apocalypse of St. John, clix–clxvii; George B. Caird,
The Revelation of St. John the Divine (New York: Harper & Row, 1966), 289–301.
33
Thompson, “The Form and Function of Hymns,” 61ff.; cf. Thompson, The Book of
Revelation, 64ff.; Richard Bauckham, The Theology of the Book of Revelation (Cam-
bridge: Cambridge University Press, 1993), 23ff.
34
See Bauckham, Theology, 54–65; Massyngbaerde Ford, “The Christological Func-
tion of the Hymns.”
10 Chapter 1: Introduction to the Study of Revelation’s Hymns

court of an Ancient Near Eastern or Imperial Roman monarch (e.g., the

throwing down of the crowns before the throne in Rev 4:10), and through
explicit statements elsewhere in the text.35 As such, the sovereignty of God
and the Lamb is understood to be a central theological and Christological
motif in the Apocalypse.36

Eschatological Orientation
Scholars often comment on the eschatological orientation of the hymns.
Schüssler-Fiorenza and Leonard Thompson, for example, have each evalu-
ated various phrases and descriptors that reveal an eschatological charac-
ter, e.g., God’s “wrath” (11:18), and the “judgments” of God (15:4; 16:5–
7; 19:1).37 In a similar vein, Bauckham has considered the epithets of God
that are essentially eschatological, e.g., the “one who was, is, and is to
come” (4:8; cf. 1:8),38 while Massyngbaerde Ford has catalogued the
Christological titles applied to the Lamb that represent “various eschato-
logical figures anticipated by different Jewish groups in the second-temple
period,” and thereby designate the Lamb (i.e., the exalted Jesus) as the
eschatological deliverer.39

Relationships of Theology and Christology

Discussions of the theological and Christological titles applied to God and
the Lamb, as well as the portrayal of God and the Lamb as eschatological
rulers, often prompt debates of the relationship between God and the Lamb
in the text. The very fact that the Lamb is worshipped together with God
(e.g., 5:13; 7:10; 12:10), and that each are hymned in similar terms, at the

35
The sovereignty of the Lamb is confirmed by the author’s own statement at the
beginning of the Apocalypse that Jesus Christ is, in fact, the “ruler of the kings of the
earth” (Rev 1:5). The proclamations of God and the Lamb as eschatological rulers in the
hymns raise a number of ancillary theological issues, not least of which is the question of
the relationship between theological and Christological themes as they are presented in
the hymns and the ways in which these themes are manifested in the surrounding narra-
tive. Issues concerning the relationship of the thematic elements in the hymns – theologi-
cal and otherwise – to the surrounding narrative will be taken up in much greater detail in
the final chapter, as they relate to the essential “dramatic” functions of the hymns.
36
Though see the feminist critique of the centrality of this motif in Elisabeth
Schüssler-Fiorenza, “The Words of Prophecy: Reading the Book of Revelation Theologi-
cally,” in Studies in the Book of Revelation (ed. Steve Moyise; New York: T & T Clark,
2001), 1–19; Adela Yarbro Collins, “Feminine Symbolism in the Book of Revelation,”
BibInt 1.1 (1993): 20–33.
37
Schüssler-Fiorenza, Justice and Judgment, 35–67; Thompson, The Book of Revel-
ation, 63–71.
38
Bauckham, Theology, 63–65.
39
Massyngbaerde Ford, “The Christological Function of the Hymns,” 212ff.
 1.2 The History of Scholarship on Revelation’s Hymns 11

very least suggests a very high Christology. 40 Some go further to suggest

that Christ is in fact portrayed as God in the text.41
At the same time, commentators consider the distinctive attributes and/
or actions that characterize God and the Lamb in Revelation’s hymns, e.g.,
the creative power of God (4:8–11), and the power of God to judge (11:18;
15:4; 16:5–7; 19:2), alongside the enactment of the judgments of God by
the Lamb (5:9–6:17), and the Lamb’s “ransoming” people for God through
his blood (5:10; cf. 12:11).

Anti-Imperial Theology
A final issue raised by the identification of God and the Lamb as eschato-
logical rulers in the hymns concerns the theological and Christological
implications of such a claim in light of the political context of the author
and audience of the Apocalypse. It is widely held that the depiction of
hymnic praise of God and the Lamb, viewed alongside the negative por-
trayal of the worship of earthly entities elsewhere in the text, constitutes an
attack on the practice of the Roman Imperial cult as well as the broader
Roman religio-political structures that underlie it, and a corresponding
claim that the worship of God and the Lamb constitutes the only proper
form of worship.42
Such a notion depends on the one hand on the understanding of the
objects of earthly worship (i.e., the “Beast of the Sea” (Rev 13:1–10), the
“Beast of the Land” (13:11–18) and the “image of the Beast” (Rev 13:14–
15) as representations of various elements of the Imperial apparatus,43 and

40
For example, many of the divine attributes of God (glory, power, might, etc.) are
also said to be prerogatives of the Lamb (Rev 5:12–13), while the doxology to the Lamb
(5:9–13; cf. 1:5–6) follows the very same pattern as doxologies to God (4:11; 7:12; 19:1,
7). So, too, are God and the Lamb said in the hymns to perform many of the same
functions: they rule (e.g., 5:13; 11:15), they save (7:10), and they are coming soon (4:8;
12:10; 19:7), functions that correspond with the actions of each elsewhere in the Apoca-
lypse. E.g., Charles, Revelation, cxii; Thompson, The Book of Revelation, 64ff.; Bauck-
ham, Theology, 58–63.
41
E.g., Carnegie, “Worthy is the Lamb,” 249; Bauckham, Theology, 58–65; Gregory
K. Beale, The Book of Revelation (Grand Rapids, Mich.: Eerdmans, 1999), 172–173;
Swete, The Apocalypse of St. John, clxii–clxiv; Caird, Revelation, 290.
42
See especially Aune, “The Influence of Roman Imperial Court Ceremonial,” 5–26;
Ruiz, “The Politics of Praise,” 374–393; Elisabeth Schüssler-Fiorenza, Revelation: Vision
of a Just World (Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 1991), 101ff.; J. Nelson Kraybill, Apoca-
lypse and Allegiance: Worship, Politics, and Devotion in the Book of Revelation (Grand
Rapids, Mich.: Brazos Press, 2010); Bauckham, Theology, 35–39, 88–94; Carnegie,
“Worthy is the Lamb,” 254–256.
43
The beasts can be taken to represent elements of the Roman Imperial apparatus by
various means. For example, the “Beast from the Sea” (13:1–8) is thought to represent
Roman Imperial power, both insofar as descriptions of the Beast appear to be lightly
12 Chapter 1: Introduction to the Study of Revelation’s Hymns

the recognition that worship of these Imperial entities is not only improper,
but ultimately destructive and antithetical to the worship of God and the
Lamb.44 On the other hand, certain language in the hymns might have been
intended to express outright opposition to the Imperial authorities. For
example, it has long been suggested that Domitian appropriated for himself
the title “Lord and Our God,” so that the use of this very expression in the
hymn at Rev 4:11 may signal the rejection of Domitian’s use of it, and the
belief that the title was appropriately reserved only for God.45 That is, the
term may have constituted a tacit acknowledgement that these titles were
applied to Roman emperors, and thus an “antithetical reflection” on this
fact.46 Other terms that appear in Revelation’s hymns likewise may have
connoted a reflection of, and antithetical response to, their use in the Im-
perial cult, e.g., ἄξιος (Rev 4:11; 5:9, 12), δύναµις (Rev 4:11; 5:12; 7:12;
11:17), σωτηρία (Rev 7:10), etc.47
Thus, it is widely presumed that these and several other elements taken
together function to establish a strict opposition between the worship of
God and the Lamb, and Imperial authorities. It seems there is not, at least
in the symbolic world of Revelation, a middle-ground by which it is poss-

veiled symbols of Imperial authority and insofar as the descriptions of its power appear
to reflect Imperial rule. The “Beast from the Land” (13:11–18) is thought to represent
specific elements of Imperial rule in the province of Asia Minor, e.g., the Imperial
administration in the province, the Imperial cultic apparatus, or the wealthy elites who
supported the official Imperial cult(s). Thus, by presenting various entities of the Roman
Imperial apparatus as “beasts,” the author is signaling a negative evaluation of them.
44
Corresponding with the representation of the Imperial entities as “beasts,” a number
of clues make clear that these entities are not proper objects of worship. For example, the
Beast of the Sea is given its authority by the Dragon (13:4), who in the previous chapter
was revealed to be none other than “Satan, the deceiver of the whole world” (Rev 12:9).
Moreover, it is characterized in wholly negative terms: it “utters blasphemies against
God” (Rev 13:6), and “makes war on the saints” (Rev 13:7). Likewise, the second Beast
of the Land “deceives the inhabitants of the earth” (Rev 13:14), and kills those who
would not worship the image of the first Beast (13:15). Moreover, those who worship the
Beast are first among those punished later in the text (e.g., Rev 16:2; cf. 19:17–21). Thus,
worship of earthly (Imperial) entities is presented in wholly negative terms.
45
Schüssler-Fiorenza has pointed out ways in which the antithesis between worship of
God and the Lamb and worship of the emperor is established by virtue of the fact that
each are presented in similar terms: (1) Both the Lamb and one of the heads of the Beast
are portrayed “as though slaughtered to death”; (2) The Lamb and the Beast from the Sea
receive their power from higher authorities; (3) Each are crowned; (4) Just as “all nations,
tongues, and peoples” worship God and the Lamb in heaven, so do “all the inhabitants of
the world” worship the Beast. See Schüssler-Fiorenza, Vision of a Just World, 83–84;
Aune, Revelation, 2: 779–780.
46
For a summary of the issue of the titles “Lord” and “God” as they are applied to
Roman emperors, see Aune, Revelation, 1:310–312.
47
See Roland Schütz, Die Offenbarung des Johannes und Kaiser Domitian (Göttin-
gen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 1933), 35; Peterson, ΕΙΣ ΘΕΟΣ, 176–179.
 1.2 The History of Scholarship on Revelation’s Hymns 13

ible to worship God and the Lamb and Imperial authorities.48 As such, the
hymns are a vital piece of the theological and Christological claim that
proper worship consists of the exclusive worship of God and the Lamb.

1.2.4 Structural Functions

The question of the function(s) of the hymns within the structural frame-
work of the text as a whole has been only occasionally addressed, and can
hardly be considered a major current in hymns’ scholarship by any objec-
tive measure. Nevertheless, I am foregrounding this area of inquiry, as I
think the hymns often do perform a function vis-à-vis the surrounding
narrative, but in a way that has not yet been considered, i.e., in terms of the
structural function of hymns in ancient drama. Thus, the thoughts of
previous commentators will provide some context for my discussion of the
structural functions of the hymns in the next chapter.
The notion that the hymns function structurally as part of the literary
texture of the Apocalypse was intimated as early as Charles’ commentary,
in which he suggested that the doxology in Rev 5:13–14 constituted the
“climax” of chapters 4 and 5.49 By considering the hymns in terms of their
function vis-à-vis other narrative elements in the text, Charles (consciously
or not) reveals an interest in their structural value, though he didn’t go any
further in explicating it.
In the wake of an increased interest in the literary functions of biblical
texts more generally, scholars in the past few decades have been increas-
ingly interested in the literary functions of the hymns in Revelation, and
have offered various proposals as to ways in which the hymns highlight,
delineate, and/or organize the narrative sections in the Apocalypse. Leonard
Thompson, for example, has suggested that the appearance of liturgical
activity in Revelation is not random, but related specifically to the
dramatic narrative(s).50 He cites several instances in which the hymns
“introduce” major narrative sections, as for example the heavenly worship
in 5:9–14 from which the opening of the seven seals is said to “flow,” and
the hymn in 15:3–4, which introduces the eschatological terror of the seven
bowls of wrath.51 Likewise, he acknowledges ways in which scenes of
heavenly worship (i.e., hymns) conclude narrative sections, as in 7:10–12,

48
E.g., “Revelation’s symbolic rhetoric is absolute: one decides either for God or
Satan, for the Lamb or the monster, for Christ or Antichrist. No compromise is possible.”
Schüssler-Fiorenza, Vision of a Just World, 84.
49
Charles, The Revelation of St. John, 1: 125–128, 133–134, 144–152.
50
Thompson, “The Form and Function of Hymns,” 35. Cf. Thompson, Book of Revel-
ation, 53–73.
51
Thompson, Book of Revelation, 66–68.
14 Chapter 1: Introduction to the Study of Revelation’s Hymns

which Thompson suggests is the “climax” to the opening of the seals, and
thus a kind of bookend to the scene.52
Subsequent scholars have likewise acknowledged that the hymns func-
tion both to introduce major narrative sections, to conclude them, or both.
Clearly, the way in which a commentator conceives of the overall structure
of the text determines to a large extent their understanding of the structural
position(s), and thereby structural function(s), of the hymns. So, for in-
stance, Jörns has proposed five distinct vision sequences (4:1–11; 5:1–14;
6:1–7; 8:1–11:18; 11:19–19:8), each of which concludes with a hymn, and
proposes that the hymns thus function structurally to determine the bound-
aries of these sequences.53 On the basis of this same structuration of the
text, Carnegie has suggested that the hymns function to “round off” each
of the five major narrative sections in Revelation, in such a way that evokes
the songs of Isaiah 40–55, which perform a similar function.54 Commen-
tators who recognize different macro-structures likewise often recognize
the extent to which the hymns function to “frame” a narrative section by
beginning and/or ending it.55

1.3 The Dramatic Forms and Functions of Revelation’s

Hymns: Status Quaestionis

1.3.1 David Brown

In modern biblical scholarship, a connection between Revelation’s hymns
and ancient dramatic choruses was first posited in 1891 by David Brown,
who suggested that the hymns in Revelation functioned analogously to the
choral lyrics of Greek tragedy insofar as they constituted a medium for
interpreting the surrounding narrative.56 Brown’s argument depended
explicitly on a notion that was prevalent in Classical Studies at the time of
Brown’s publication that the chorus functioned in Greek tragedy as a kind
of ideal spectator. First proposed by August Schlegel in 1809, this notion
was based on the idea that the lyric and musical expressions of the tragic

52
Thompson, Book of Revelation, 66–67.
53
Jörns, Evangelium, 167–170.
54
Carnegie, “Worthy is the Lamb,” 250–254.
55
Ellul proposes five sections, three of which are book-ended by hymns. Jacques
Ellul, Apocalypse: The Book of Revelation (trans. George W. Schreiner; New York: Sea-
bury, 1977), 232–255; cf. M.A. Harris, “The Literary Function of Hymns in the Apoca-
lypse of John,” (Ph.D. diss., Southern Baptist Theological Seminary, 1989); Deichgräber,
Gotteshymnus und Christushymnus, 45, 47.
56
David Brown, The Apocalypse: Its Structure and Primary Predictions (New York:
Christian Literature Co., 1891), 70–71.
 1.2 The History of Scholarship on Revelation’s Hymns 15

chorus served primarily as a kind of “ideal” reflection upon the surround-

ing dramatic events, or “the sentiments of a pious and well-ordered mind
in beautiful and noble forms.”57 By offering the audience an “ideal” reflec-
tion on the surrounding dramatic events, the tragic chorus “guide[d] and
control[led] the impressions” of the theatre audience, in order to express
the “inward signification” of the dramatic events as well as the “thoughts
which lay beneath the surface …” In this vein, Brown proposed that the
hymns in Revelation functioned analogously to tragic choruses insofar as
they constituted a sort of ideal reflection on the surrounding visions, or an
“impression of what the symbolical visions are intended to teach.”58

1.3.2 Frederic Palmer

Several years after Brown’s publication, Frederic Palmer proposed in
slightly different terms that Revelation’s hymns could be understood in
terms of ancient tragic lyrics. Palmer did not explicitly consider the func-
tionality of Revelation’s hymns in terms of the notion of an ideal specta-
tor, but proposed that they could be considered in terms of Greek choruses
insofar as they “amplify the motif which is being set forth” in the sur-
rounding visions.59 Palmer did not provide a basis for his premise that this
was the function of tragic choruses, nor did he specify how exactly the
hymns functioned in this regard. As such, Palmer provided nothing more
specific as to how Revelation’s hymns might be construed as dramatic
commentary, save for a passing remark that Revelation’s hymns lack the
“critical” attitude common in the lyrics of Greek choruses.
Palmer’s greater contribution to the study of Revelation’s hymns in
dramatic terms consisted in his observations concerning the dramatic
character of Revelation as a whole. That is, his (undeveloped) argument
that Revelation’s hymns functioned analogously to tragic choral lyrics was
part and parcel of a larger argument that several elements of Revelation
could be understood in terms of various features of Classical tragedy, an
argument that would influence several subsequent studies on the dramatic
character of Revelation’s hymns.

57
Karl O. Müller, History of the Literature of Greece (2nd ed.; trans. Sir George
Cornwell Lewis; London: Baldwin and Cradock: Paternoster-Row, 1847), 311.
58
Brown, The Apocalypse, 71.
59
Frederic Palmer, The Drama of the Apocalypse: In Relation to the Literary and
Political Circumstances of Its Time (New York: Kessinger Publishers, 1903), 42. Palmer
is often erroneously cited as the first scholar to propose a dramatic interpretation of
Revelation’s hymns.
16 Chapter 1: Introduction to the Study of Revelation’s Hymns

1.3.3 Raymond Brewer

In a brief article published in 1936, Raymond Brewer advanced this line of
interpretation in two important ways. 60 Like Brown and Palmer before him,
he acknowledged that the hymns bore a functional relationship with the
surrounding dialogue such that they could be compared with the lyrics of
tragic choruses, though he conceived of this relationship in still different
terms than his predecessors. According to Brewer, the hymns functioned as
did choral lyrics insofar as they “formed the bond between the lyric and
dramatic elements in the plot … the chorus of elders in particular, are the
bond of unity running through the swiftly moving action and the ever shift-
ing scenes of the book.”61 Importantly, Brewer suggested more specific
ways in which the hymns resembled the lyrics of tragic choruses: “Like the
tragic choruses of Aeschylus, the choruses of Revelation, in language more
stately and with thoughts more sublime, hymn the praise of the Deity,
whose succor they implore, and whose acts they approve.”62 Thus, while
his analysis lacks depth (e.g., he does not specify how he imagines hymnic
praise of the Deity to form a “bond between the lyric and dramatic el-
ements” in theatrical terms), Brewer broadened the horizon for considering
Revelation’s hymns in dramatic terms. For one, he recognized that choral
lyrics often consisted of hymns per se, such that the hymns as they appear
in Revelation could be reasonably compared with the hymns of tragic
choral lyrics. Moreover, he acknowledged several specific dimensions of
Revelation’s hymns that are fruitfully considered in terms of tragic
choruses, including the fact that the hymns can be distinguished from the
surrounding text on formal and stylistic grounds, and the fact that they
contribute to the structural integrity of the text as a whole.
In addition to evaluating some of the formal and functional aspects of
Revelation’s hymns in terms of tragic choral lyrics, Brewer also recognized
similarities between those who sang the hymns and the tragic choruses
themselves, as well as elements of the performance of the hymns that could
be viewed in terms of the theatrical staging of the choruses. For example,
he recognized that descriptions of the circular formation of the four Living
Creatures and 24 Elders around the throne and altar could be considered in
terms of the circular organization of the choruses around the altar in Greek
tragedy, and that the descriptions of the Living Creatures may have been
depicted with the “masked choreutai” of the Greek theatre in mind.63 Thus,
Brewer broadened the scope for the study of Revelation’s hymns in terms

60
Raymond R. Brewer, “The Influence of Greek Drama on the Apocalypse of John,”
AThR 18 (1936): 74–92.
61
Brewer, “Influence of Greek Drama,” 90–91.
62
Brewer, “Influence of Greek Drama,” 91.
63
Brewer, “Influence of Greek Drama,” 83–88.
 1.2 The History of Scholarship on Revelation’s Hymns 17

of tragic choral lyrics, and opened the door for considering particular
aspects of the depictions of the hymns in terms of the staging of tragic
choruses.

1.3.4 Subsequent Scholarship

In the wake of the pioneering work of Brown, Palmer, and Brewer, it is
somewhat remarkable that subsequent scholarship has not only failed to
advance this discussion of the relationship of Revelation’s hymns with
ancient tragic choruses, but that discussions of the dramatic functions of
Revelation’s hymns have most certainly regressed since then. Indeed,
scholars widely acknowledge that Revelation’s hymns do bear functional
similarities with ancient tragic choruses, but this assertion is most often
reduced to some variation of the claim that Revelation’s hymns function as
did choral lyrics in Classical tragedy insofar as they “comment upon” or
“interpret” the action in the vision-sequences. In other words, an appreci-
ation of the dramatic function of Revelation’s hymns has been universally
reduced to this lowest common denominator, with virtually no deliberation
as to the ways in which the hymns might “comment upon” or “interpret”
the surrounding narrative in dramatic terms, or consideration of the ways
in which the hymns might function analogously to tragic choral lyrics in
other ways. Moreover, rarely is there ever any reflection on the formal
similarities between tragic choruses and those who sing the hymns in Rev-
elation, or consideration of the extent to which the contexts of the hymn-
singing in Revelation might reflect dramatic conventions.
So, for example, Elisabeth Schüssler-Fiorenza claims that the hymns
“function … in the same way as the choruses in the Greek drama preparing
and commenting upon the dramatic movements of the plot.”64 Likewise,
Murphy argues that insofar as they “offer definitive comments on the
meaning of what John witnesses,” the hymns “function much as the chorus
does in ancient Greek tragedy,”65 while Massyngbaerde Ford likens the
hymns to the Greek chorus insofar as they offer a “commentary on the
events” that take place throughout the plot of the Apocalypse.66 And so on

64
Elisabeth Schüssler-Fiorenza, “Composition and Structure of the Revelation of
John,” CBQ 39 (1977): 353–354.
65
Frederick J. Murphy, Fallen is Babylon: The Revelation to John (Harrisburg, Pa.;
Trinity Press International, 1998), 186.
66
Massyngbaerde Ford, “The Christological Function of the Hymns,” 211.
18 Chapter 1: Introduction to the Study of Revelation’s Hymns

and so forth.67 Lambrecht rightly acknowledges a “fair consensus” regard-

ing this “commentary” character of the hymns in Revelation.68
The notion that the hymns functioned analogously to tragic choral lyrics
insofar as they “comment upon” the surrounding narrative has become a
virtually unchallenged maxim, especially among those who consider the
hymns in dramatic terms. This view is so pervasive that even some who
deny that Revelation’s hymns ought to be considered in dramatic terms
admit their similarity to tragic choral lyrics in this respect.69 Moreover,
several scholars, without explicitly acknowledging a connection to ancient
dramatic choruses, nevertheless characterize the functionality of Revel-
ation’s hymns in precisely these terms.70 The claim is repeated ad infini-
tum, most often with no justification save for the citations of previous
scholars who have similarly endorsed it.71 As a result, the argument for a
dramatic interpretation of Revelation’s hymns as it now regularly appears
in articles, books, and commentaries exists in practically the same form as
when the argument was first proposed in 1891. And thus this standard
claim as to the dramatic function of Revelation’s hymns needs to be re-
assessed.

1.4 Methodology

The premise upon which New Testament scholars have constructed the
dramatic interpretation of Revelation’s hymns, i.e., the notion that Classi-
cal tragic choruses functioned primarily to “comment upon” the surround-
ing action, is inadequate. Even a cursory survey of the lyrics of Greek
tragic choruses reveals a multiplicity of choral functions both within and
across various tragedies. Indeed, Classicists have long acknowledged that
Classical tragic choruses performed a wide range of functions depending
67
Boring, Revelation, 107; James L. Blevins, Revelation as Drama (Nashville: Broad-
man Press, 1984), 19.
68
Lambrecht cites Schüssler-Fiorenza’s claim that they function “in the same way as
the choruses in Greek drama.” Jan Lambrecht, “A Structuration of Rev 4,1–22,5,” in
L’Apocalypse johannique et l’apocalyptique dans le Nouveau Testament (Gembloux:
Leuven University Press, 1980), 99.
69
E.g., Harris, “The Literary Function of the Hymns.”
70
E.g., John P. M. Sweet, Revelation (Philadelphia: Westminster Press, 1979), 6;
James L. Resseguie, The Revelation of John: A Narrative Commentary (Grand Rapids,
Mich.: Baker Publishing, 2009), 53; cf. Ellul, Apocalypse, 234; Delling, “Zum gottes-
dienstlichen Stil der Johannesapokalypse,” 136.
71
Brian Blount is one scholar who has pushed back on this idea, suggesting that the
hymns do much more than to “‘prepare and comment upon’ plot movements.” Brian
Blount, Can I Get a Witness? Reading Revelation through African American Culture
(Louisville: Westminster John Knox Press, 2005), 93.
 1.2 The History of Scholarship on Revelation’s Hymns 19

on numerous factors, including the particular composer, the time-period

during which the drama was produced, and above all, the exigencies
required by a particular drama. Moreover, many tragic choral lyrics simply
do not function to “comment upon” the surrounding dialogue at all. As a
result, the presumption that choruses function primarily to “comment
upon” the surrounding dialogue has long since been abandoned in the field
of Classics. Thus, although this definition of tragic choral lyrics is still
used by New Testament scholars, it serves as an imprecise and oftentimes
incorrect premise from which to consider the dramatic function of Revel-
ation’s hymns. As such, the premise ought to be replaced with one that
more accurately evaluates the breadth and depth of the forms and functions
of ancient tragic choruses.
A further methodological deficiency exists in the fact that New Testa-
ment scholars have only ever considered the dramatic function of Revel-
ation’s hymns in terms of tragic choruses in the Classical period. In so
doing, scholars have neglected the choruses and choral lyrics of Hellenistic
and Roman tragedies which, it will be shown, exhibit marked changes in
content, style, and function relative to their Classical antecedents. This
study thus includes assessments of tragic choral forms and functions
throughout antiquity.
By offering a comprehensive framework for understanding the forms
and functions of tragic choruses throughout antiquity, and evaluating
Revelation’s hymns in light of this framework, the extent to which Revel-
ation’s hymns can – and can’t – be understood in terms of ancient tragic
choral lyrics will be revealed. In short, it will be shown that Revelation’s
hymns reflect neither the depth nor variety of the functionality of ancient
tragic choral lyrics, and as such are not best understood in terms of tragic
choral lyrics generally, from any period of antiquity. Nevertheless, Revel-
ation’s hymns can be considered in dramatic terms inasmuch as they
function analogously to ancient tragic hymns, by providing mythological-
theological reflections on the surrounding narrative so as to frame the
actions and events of the narrative in mythological-theological terms.

1.5 Summary of Argument

I turn first to an evaluation of the hymnic genre in antiquity, including: (1)
ancient definitions of the term ὕµνος; (2) formal, stylistic, performative,
and functional aspects of ancient hymns; and (3) the types of literature in
which hymns are found, and a consideration of the extent to which various
textual units in Revelation are properly designated hymns. Then I consider
the contexts in which the hymns appear in Revelation, including the setting
of the hymns in the heavenly throne-room, and the identities of those who
20 Chapter 1: Introduction to the Study of Revelation’s Hymns

sing many of the hymns. The majority of the chapter consists of exegetical
analyses of the hymns themselves, with special consideration of the struc-
tural, rhetorical, narrative, and theological relations of the hymns to the
surrounding narrative material. Such analyses provide the data with which
comparisons will be made with tragic choruses in the final chapter.
The study then moves to considerations of the contexts of ancient
dramatic choruses. As a preface to analyses of the forms and functions of
the dramatic choruses themselves, and in order to provide a context for
considering dramatic choruses, I consider two general trajectories in
antiquity: (1) Choral poetry and performance in Archaic and Classical
Greece, i.e., choreia; and (2) The particular forms of choral poetry and
performance that were distinguished as tragoedia. Certain formal charac-
teristics of tragic choruses (size, composition, shape, training, etc.) as well
as the choral lyrics of tragedy (metrical and dialectical tendencies, musical
elements, etc.), can be understood as expressions of, and explained in
terms of, wider choral phenomena in the ancient world, i.e., choreia. Such
phenomena are explored in Chapter 3. At the same time, insofar as tragic
choruses and choral lyrics appear as part of more specific choral art forms
– tragedies – their formal and functional features are most fully appreci-
ated in terms of various dynamics of tragedies themselves. Thus, various
aspects of ancient tragedy are considered in Chapter 4.
Having established a framework for considering ancient choruses and
tragedy generally, I consider in the fifth and sixth chapters the particular
forms and functions of tragic choruses and choral lyrics, concentrating on
tragic choral phenomena in the Classical period in Chapter 5, and tragic
choral phenomena in the 4th century, Hellenistic, and Roman periods in
Chapter 6.72 In each chapter I evaluate formal elements of tragic choruses
and choral lyrics, including: (1) general features of dramatic choruses
(composition and size, the process of selecting and training a chorus, the
role of the chorus-leader, and the conventional identities of the characters
that were represented by the chorus); (2) formal characteristics of choral
lyrics, including dialectical and metrical tendencies, and the extent to
which the content of dramatic choral odes resembles non-dramatic choral
poetic forms; (3) spatial aspects of dramatic choral performance, such as
the position of the chorus in the theatre vis-à-vis the actors, the shape of
the chorus, and choreographic elements; (4) musical dynamics related to
72
A consequence of my decision to present an overarching survey of the forms and
functions of tragic choruses is that I have chosen to exclude comic choruses from con-
sideration. In this way, my approach conforms to the tendencies of the majority of
Classical scholarship, in which the study of the functions of tragic and comic choruses
are typically undertaken independent of one another. Indeed, the forms and functions of
comic choruses are quite different from tragic choruses, and do not provide a good
context in which to consider Revelation’s hymns.
 1.2 The History of Scholarship on Revelation’s Hymns 21

dramatic choral performance, including a consideration of choral singing,

and the instruments that accompanied the chorus; and (5) specific types of
choral phenomena, including the parodos, stasima, and exodos, lyric and
non-lyric dialogue with actors, and non-dialogical utterances.
I then move to more detailed considerations of the functional dynamics
of choral lyrics in tragedy, focusing on the relationship of the choral lyrics
to the surrounding speeches, dialogue, and action of the actors. Two types
of choral phenomena will be distinguished on the basis of whether the
chorus: (1) advances the dramatic action by interacting with other charac-
ters; or (2) stands outside of the dramatic action in order to cast it in a
particular light. These will serve as general categories within which more
specific functionalities of the chorus will be considered, including the
ways in which the chorus advances the dramatic action by providing rel-
evant background information, introducing characters, and foreshadowing
dramatic events, or casts the dramatic action in a particular mythical-
historical, philosophical, and/or mythological-theological light. Finally,
various theoretical models for considering the nature of the “voice” of the
chorus, that is, its potential role as the mouthpiece of the author, or the
community, etc., will be considered.
My goal in these chapters is not to present revolutionary models for
evaluating tragic choruses, but rather to present an overview of the evi-
dence of tragic choral phenomena as it is conventionally presented in the
field of Classics, so as to make the material accessible for those who are
not familiar with the conventions of ancient drama. Thus, in the interest of
presenting a general introduction to ancient choruses for non-specialists, I
necessarily focus on broad trajectories of choral forms and functions.
In the final chapter, I consider Revelation’s hymns in terms of tragic
choral phenomena, demonstrating ultimately that the hymns are not proper-
ly considered in terms of tragic choral phenomena generally, inasmuch as
they simply do not perform most of the most basic functions of choral
lyrics in tragedy, but best evaluated in terms of tragic hymnic phenomena
specifically, with which they share many formal and functional similar-
ities.
 Chapter 2

The Hymns in Revelation

Most scholars accept the designation of certain passages in Revelation as

hymns. In what follows, I identify the formal, stylistic, and functional
criteria by which these passages may be properly identified as hymns, in
light of formal, stylistic, and functional characteristics of hymns in antiqui-
ty. I then consider the hymns in terms of content, position in their literary
contexts, and relations to the surrounding material.

2.1 Hymnic Material in the Ancient World

2.1.1 Definition of Hymn
An initial task is to sort out various gradations of the meaning of the term ὕµ-
νος in the ancient record. It sometimes appears as a general term to denote
any form of singing or song.1 Elsewhere, however, the term was used in a
more specific sense to denote praise, as of men or gods.2 Gradually, it seems
that the term came to denote specifically the praise of a deity, as is suggested
by Plato in the Republic, in which he distinguishes the praise of gods
(ὕµνοι) from the praise of men (ἐγκώµια).3 One piece of later Alexandrian
evidence suggests that the hymn may have taken on specific formal features,4
though the vast majority of ancient commentators use hymn as defined by
Plato as any song addressed to a deity.5
1
Pindar, Ol. 1.8; Pyth. 6.7; Nem. 8.50; Homer, Od. 8.429; Aeschylus, Ag. 709;
Hesiod, [Scut.] 205; Pausanias 5.18.4.
2
E.g., several of Pindar’s Epinician Odes, which are songs of praise in honor of a victor
of an athletic contest, are cast as hymns: Ol. 1.8; 2.1; 7.14; Pyth. 10.53; Nem. 3.65; Isthm.
7.60. Cf. Ol. 3.2, in which the term is used to designate praise for humans. Likewise,
several of the Homeric Hymns seem to be labeled hymns, e.g., Hymn. Hom. 9.9; 5.293;
Hymn. Hom. 18.11. Finally, the chorus in Aeschylus’ Suppliants suggests that the object
of hymnic praise could be a city (Aeschylus, Supp. 1025). See Simon Pulleyn, Prayer in
Greek Religion (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1997), 43, n. 11; 44, n. 13.
3
Plato, Rep. 10.607a.
4
A more detailed description of this evidence will be taken up in the following
chapter, as part of a discussion of the generic qualities of various choral poetry (e.g.,
paean, dithyramb, epinician ode, etc.).
5
For instance, rhetorical handbooks echo this definition. See the Progymnasmata of
Theon (1 st c. C.E.), Alexander son of Numenius (2 nd c. C.E.), Hermogenes (2 nd c. C.E.),
 2.1 Hymnic Material in the Ancient World 23

2.1.2 Formal Elements of Hymns

Praise of the divine is the lowest common criterion by which most modern
commentators identify hymnic forms in ancient texts.6 However, such a
general definition, which considers the content of a composition – i.e.,
praise of the divine – to be the sole indicator that the composition is in fact
a hymn, includes such a wide range of texts and so many formal variations
that this content is rarely the sole hymnic identifier. Often several formal
elements are associated with hymnic forms. For instance, the god is
typically addressed and praised in the second or third person, either as an
independent clause, or in the form of participles and/or relative clauses in
the second or third person.7 Additionally, some have detected a basic tri-
partite hymnic structure, including: (1) the invocation of the god; (2) praise
of the god; and (3) a closing prayer. The invocation of the deity is most
often the first element, though it could be deferred, and typically includes
the name of the god, divine epithets and titles, genealogies, and/or an ac-
counting of the divine residences and/or places of worship.8 The invocation
regularly includes an exhortation to sing the hymn, either in first-person
form (e.g., “Come now, let me sing of …”), or on behalf of the participants
(“Rejoice in the Lord, you righteous ones …”).9

Aphthonius (4 th c. C.E.), and Menander Rhetor (4 th c. C.E.). Cf. Etym. Gud. ὕµνος: “a
discourse in the form of adoration, with prayer conjoined with praise, addressed to a
god.” Dionysios Thrax (2 nd c. B.C.E.) includes heroes as objects of hymnic praise: “the
‘hymn’ is a poem comprising praises of the gods and heroes with thanksgiving.” See
Matthew E. Gordley, The Colossian Hymn in Context (WUNT 2.228; Tübingen: Mohr
Siebeck, 2007), 116–124.
6
See, e.g., Claude Calame, Choruses of Young Women in Ancient Greece: Their Mor-
phology, Religious Role, and Social Functions (trans. Derek Collins and Janice Orion;
Lanham, Md.: Rowman & Littlefield, 2001), 75; William D. Furley and Jan Maarten
Bremer, Greek Hymns: Selected Cult Songs from the Archaic to the Hellenistic Period
(2 vols.; STAC 9–10; Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2001), 1:1–4; William Furley, “Types of
Greek Hymns,” Eos 81 (1993): 24; Jan Maarten Bremer, “Greek Hymns,” in Faith, Hope,
and Worship: Aspects of Religious Mentality in the Ancient World (ed. Hendrik S.
Versnel; SGRR 2; Leiden: Brill, 1981), 193ff.; Pulleyn, Prayer in Greek Religion, 43ff.;
Gordley, The Colossian Hymn, 32–33.
7
Norden was the first to recognize this, distinguishing between second-person (“Du-
Stil”) and third-person (“Er-Stil”) forms. Eduard Norden, Agnostos Theos: Untersuchun-
gen zur Formengeschichte religiöser Rede (Leipzig: Teubner, 1913), 143–177. Cf. Furley
and Bremer, Greek Hymns, 1:56; Hermann Gunkel and Joachim Begrich, Introduction to
the Psalms: The Genres of the Religious Lyric of Israel (trans. James D. Nogalski;
Macon, Ga.: Mercer University Press, 1998), 39. Only rarely does a hymn take the form
of a first-person address, as in “The Hymn of Wisdom’s Self-Praise” in Proverbs 8, and
in several of the Isis Aretalogies.
8
Furley and Bremer, Greek Hymns, 1:52–56.
9
For a summary of several scholars’ positions on this subject as it relates to the
biblical Psalms, see Gordley, The Colossian Hymn, 46. Cf. Furley and Bremer, Greek
Hymns, 1:51–52.
24 Chapter 2: The Hymns in Revelation

Most often following the invocation and/or exhortation, the second part
of the hymn consists primarily of praise of the deity, 10 which is concen-
trated on illuminating the deity’s attributes (essential traits, powers, abil-
ities, privileges, etc.), and accounting for the deity’s past exploits, as for
example the story of the god’s birth, past accomplishments, epiphanies,
and/or primary activities.11 Stylistically, this content can be presented in a
number of different forms. Common are predicative participial phrases and
relative clauses, ekphrastic descriptions of the deity’s attributes and ex-
ploits, anaphoric addresses, as well as longer, narrative depictions.12
The precise content and stylistic tendencies naturally vary from one
hymn to the next, and depend upon which deity is being praised, its length,
and the attending circumstances surrounding the performance of the hymn.
So, for instance, shorter hymns often contain abbreviated forms of the
praise of the deity, while longer hymns include extended narratives. If the
hymn was intended primarily or in part as a petition to the god (which is
determined largely on the basis of whether or not it includes a specific
petition or “prayer,” often as the third and final element of the hymn),
certain elements are incorporated, including descriptions of the past honors
given to the god by the hymnic petitioners, and an account of the past
services rendered by the god to the petitioners.13 Whatever the precise
means by which the deity was praised in the second section of the hymn, it
seems to have served ultimately as a kind of gift to the god, conferring
honor so as to please the deity and, in this sense not unlike a sacrifice, to
generate χάρις on behalf of the petitioners.14
The final structural component of a hymn often consists of a prayer or
petition to the god, the purpose of which appears to be help in a time of

10
This section of the hymn has been variously labeled. Ausfeld famously called it the
pars epica on account of the long narrative sections detailing the exploits of the gods
(especially evident in the Homeric Hymns). Others, noting that such long narratives are
diminished or absent in many other hymnic genres, have labeled it more generally a
eulogia. See, e.g., Furley and Bremer, Greek Hymns, 1:56–60; Bremer, “Greek Hymns,”
195–196.
11
Greek rhetoricians compiled sets of topics upon which hymnic praise may be based.
See esp. Quintilian, Inst. 7.7–8. Cf. Alexander Rhetor in Rhetores Graeci (ed. Leonhard
Spengel; 4 vols.; Leipzig: Teubner, 1853–1856), 3:5–6; Alexander Numenius in Rhetores
Graeci, 4:4. For a summary of these topics as part of a larger discussion of hymnic praise
considered under the rubric of epideictic rhetoric, see Gordley, The Colossian Hymn,
112–124.
12
On the stylistic elements of Greek hymns, see Norden, Agnostos Theos, 143–177;
William H. Race, “Aspects of Rhetoric and Form in Greek Hymns,” GRBS 23 (1982): 5–
14; Furley and Bremer, Greek Hymns, 1:56–60.
13
Furley and Bremer, Greek Hymns, 1:57–59.
14
See Pulleyn, Prayer in Greek Religion, 49ff.; Race, “Aspects of Rhetoric and
Form,” 5–14.
 2.1 Hymnic Material in the Ancient World 25

distress, a wish for health, well-being or prosperity, and/or a summons for

the presence of the deity to a particular location.15 Insofar as a prayer often
concludes the hymn, it has been thought by some to constitute the “climax”
of the hymn, and the very “point of the hymn as a whole.”16 Others, how-
ever, have objected that because petitions do not appear consistently in
those compositions which fall under the general rubric of hymns, they do
not constitute an essential component of the genre.17
15
Furley and Bremer, Greek Hymns, 1:60–63; Gordley, The Colossian Hymn, 131–132.
16
Indeed this has lent to the notion that a hymn was in its essence a type of prayer.
Furley and Bremer, Greek Hymns, 1:60–61.
17
The relationship of hymns to prayers is a complex methodological issue. In short,
prayers and hymns share much in common, e.g., praise to the divine, invocations of the
divine, and a listing of divine attributes, etc., but the relationship between them is compli-
cated by the fact that prayers often conclude hymns. Answers to the question of the rela-
tionship between the two are varied. Some have suggested that the hymn is a type of prayer
(Bremer, “Greek Hymns,” 193), a notion that derives primarily from the observation that
many hymns include prayers as essential structural components, as well as the passing re-
marks of two ancient commentators on the subject. Plato identified hymns as a “species of
song consisting in prayers to the gods” (Plato, Leg. 3.700a–b), and Menander Rhetor suggests
that certain prayers were properly considered hymns, and vice versa (Menander Rhetor,
in Spengel [ed.], Rhetores Graeci, 1:333). It may have been that these ancient commenta-
tors considered hymns prayers insofar as they included a prayer, or consisted primarily of
a prayer. It appears, however, from Menander’s own classification system that most types
of hymns are not considered prayers, and vice versa. Moreover, Plato is contradictory on
the matter, as later in the same text he appears to suggest that prayers and hymns are sep-
arate entities (Plato, Leg. 7.801e). While the ancient testimony is ambiguous at best, perhaps
the most damning evidence against the notion that the hymn is a type of prayer is the fact
that often hymns did not include any kind of prayer at all. Most scholars seek to identify
one or more elements which distinguish a hymn from a prayer, but it is not a simple task.
Some have suggested that a hymn is distinguished from a prayer insofar as the former
was musical in a way that the latter was not. E.g., Pulleyn, Prayer in Greek Religion, 54;
cf. Bremer, “Greek Hymns,” 193. At the very same time, however, such scholars admit that
musical elements were not inherent in all hymns (e.g., the so-called prose hymns), and
that prayers could appear in a poetic form that suggests musical performance (e.g., cer-
tain Pindaric odes). Thus, musicality (or lack thereof) is not a viable criterion by which to
distinguish consistently hymns from prayers. Pulleyn proposes a functional distinction.
He argues that hymns consisted essentially of fulsome praise of the deity, constituted a
gift or offering by which the god would be conferred honor, and in which the god would
take delight. This might be considered analogously to a sacrifice, whereby χάρις is gener-
ated on behalf of the petitioners. By contrast, prayers lacked this generative function, and
instead consisted essentially of a request of a god, the positive response to which was
made more likely by the fact that the individual making the request was able to generate
χάρις by means of praise, sacrifice, etc. Such a reckoning makes sense of the fact that
prayers bear so many formal similarities to hymns, and the fact that prayers very often
were embedded in, or concluded, a hymn.17 In short, it must suffice to say that hymns and
prayers are typically thought in antiquity to have been distinct entities, though they share
certain formal similarities such that they cannot always be distinguished from one
another in texts in which they are not explicitly identified as such one way or the other.
26 Chapter 2: The Hymns in Revelation

2.1.3 Types of Hymns

Hymns can be categorized on the basis of numerous stylistic, performative,
and functional qualities, as well as the more specialized types of content
included in them.18 So, for instance, hymns are often distinguished on
formal grounds on the basis of whether they were composed according to
the principles of poetic meter, or in a form of stylized prose. Likewise,
hymns may be distinguished according to their: (1) specific performance
setting(s), including whether they were to be performed in a particular
cultic setting (e.g., dithyrambs were often performed in the context of the
worship of Dionysos, psalms in the context of worship for Yahweh, etc.),
or in a non-cultic setting, such as a prelude for another poetic form (e.g.,
the Homeric Hymns), or in an instructional setting; and (2) attending per-
formative context(s), including whether they were intended to be sung,
chanted, or recited, accompanied by musical instruments, and presented by
a single performer or a chorus of participants.19
Such criteria form matrices by which genres and sub-genres of ancient
hymns are distinguished.20 For example, lyric hymns, which are characterized
by elements of song and musical accompaniment, are distinguished from so-
called prose hymns, which lack such features. Choral hymns are distinguished
from monodic hymns, on account of the difference in the number of perform-
ers. Various sub-genres of hymns are distinguished on the basis of content

18
A nice summary of the methodological problems associated with the classification
of hymns is offered in Gordley, The Colossian Hymn, 33ff. Cf. Furley and Bremer, Greek
Hymns, 1:1–40.
19
Foundational studies on the formal and functional aspects of ancient Greek hymns in-
clude most notably: Norden, Agnostos Theos; Richard Wünsch, “Hymnos,” PW 9.1 (1914):
140–183; Bremer, “Greek Hymns,” 193ff.; Klaus Berger, “Hymnus und Gebet,” in his Form-
geschichte des Neuen Testaments (Heidelberg: Quelle & Meyer, 1984), 239–247; Michael
Lattke, Hymnus: Materialien zu einer Geschichte der antiken Hymnologie (Göttingen: Van-
denhoeck & Ruprecht, 1991); Klaus Thraede, “Hymnus,” RAC 16 (1994): 915–946. More
recent taxonomic studies include: Furley, “Types of Greek Hymns,” 21–41; Furley and
Bremer, Greek Hymns, 1:1–40; Pulleyn, Prayer in Greek Religion, 43ff.; Johan C. Thom,
Cleanthes’ Hymn to Zeus (STAC 33; Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2005), 45ff.; Gordley, The
Colossian Hymn, 26–40; 124–133; Nicola G. Devlin, “The Hymn in Greek Literature:
Studies in Form and Content” (Ph.D. diss., Oxford University, 1994); Walter Burkert and
Fritz Stolz, eds., Hymnen der alten Welt im Kulturvergleich (OBO 131; Göttingen: Vanden-
hoeck & Ruprecht, 1994); Race, “Aspects of Rhetoric and Form in Greek Hymns,” 5–14.
20
Such matrices are entirely modern heuristic tools for evaluating the very wide range
of texts that fall under the rubric of hymns, on account of the fact that hymns are so
broadly defined in antiquity as text whose content consists primarily of praise of the divine.
Several ancient commentators distinguished hymnic forms, but not consistently, nor
according to a consistent set of principles. Various attempts at a classification of hymnic
forms in antiquity will be considered in the next chapter, with particular attention to the
relationship of hymnic form(s) with Greek choral forms such as the paean, dithyramb, etc.
 2.1 Hymnic Material in the Ancient World 27

which appears specific to them. And so on and so forth. Ultimately, the

hymnic genre admits a great deal of variation of forms, owing to the wide
range of ancient material included under the rubric of praise to the divine.
Thus, a general framework has been established for: (1) identifying hymns
across the ancient world, both according to content (i.e., praise of a divine
being), and certain formal features (second- or third-person address, and a
tri-partite division of content); and (2) considering these hymns in terms of
a number of variable formal elements (musical accompaniment, number of
performers, performance contexts, etc.). Such a framework incorporates a
wide-range of hymns which spans many epochs, from (pre-?) Archaic
times through the very end of the Roman period, and encompasses many
genres of literature: epic, lyric, drama, biblical texts, magical papyri, etc.21
Hymnic forms are found in most genres of Greek literature, both in
poetic genres such as lyric, epic, dramatic, and elegiac, as well as in some
prose genres.22 The earliest hymns are those which constitute the corpus of
the so-called Homeric hymns, a collection of 33 hymns of praise to each of
the best known Greek gods,23 followed by a variety of hymnic forms in the
extant lyric poetry from the Archaic and Classical periods, associated with
such poets as Sappho, Alkaios, Anacreon, Pindar, and Bacchylides. A size-
able collection of hymns from antiquity consists of those that were com-
posed for, and performed by, the dramatic choruses of Classical tragedy

21
Encompassing and far-reaching as it is, the study of ancient hymns is beset by a
number of pitfalls, which can only be touched upon briefly here. The study of hymnic
phenomena across such a wide range of texts has led to contributions from scholars
across a number of different fields, leading naturally to the tendency for scholars in one
field to specialize in the hymns peculiar to their field to the exclusion of others. For
instance, it is not uncommon that a scholar of hymns in the Roman period fails to account
for the hymns in the New Testament and Early Christianity. E.g., Gladys Martin, “The
Roman Hymn,” CJ 34:2 (1938): 86–97. Likewise, scholars of New Testament hymns
regularly ignore many hymnic forms in the Roman period, focusing instead exclusively on
hymnic antecedents in the Hebrew Bible, non-canonical Jewish literature, and/or Christian
analogues. E.g., Peter O’Brien, Epistle to the Philippians (Grand Rapids, Mich.: Eerdmans,
1991), 193; Karris, A Symphony of New Testament Hymns; Ralph P. Martin, A Hymn of
Christ (Downers Grove, Ill.: InverVarsity Press, 1997). Because the study of hymns en-
compasses a wide scope of academic disciplines and sub-fields, various sets of terms and
categories have arisen in different fields. So, for instance, scholars of hymns who work
under the rubric of Biblical Studies often employ terminologies and categories for con-
sidering biblical hymns with seemingly little consideration for hymnic categories employed
in the study of hymns outside of the Bible and early Jewish and Christian communities.
22
Furley and Bremer, Greek Hymns, 1:41.
23
Diane J. Rayor, The Homeric Hymns (Berkeley: University of California Press,
2004); Apostolos N. Athanassakis, The Homeric Hymns (2nd ed.; Baltimore: Johns Hop-
kins University Press, 2004); Michael Crudden, The Homeric Hymns (New York: Oxford
University Press, 2004); Richard Janko, “The Structure of the Homeric Hymns: A Study
in Genre,” Hermes 109 (1981): 9–24.
28 Chapter 2: The Hymns in Revelation

and comedy. From the Hellenistic period survive the hymns of

Callimachus,24 as well as Cleanthes’ Hymn to Zeus.25
So, too, are there a number of Jewish hymns evident in texts from the
Second Temple Period. Included under this rubric are many of the biblical
Psalms,26 the so-called “Hymn of Wisdom’s Self-Praise” in Proverbs 8,
and in various biblical narrative sections.27 Jewish hymnic material can
also be found in the Pseudepigrapha and Apocrypha, 28 as well as many of
the fragments from Qumran.29

24
Rudolf Pfeiffer, Callimachus. Vol. II: Hymni et epigrammata (Oxford: Oxford Uni-
versity Press, 1953); Marco Fantuzzi and Richard Hunter, Tradition and Innovation in
Hellenistic Poetry (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2004).
25
Thom, Cleanthes’ Hymn to Zeus.
26
Much work has been done on the hymnic aspects of the biblical Psalms, beginning
with the pioneering form-critical work of Hermann Gunkel, and subsequent form-critical
scholarship in his wake. See Gunkel and Begrich, Introduction to the Psalms; Mowin-
ckel, The Psalms in Israel’s Worship; Claus Westermann, The Psalms: Structure, Content
& Message (Minneapolis: Augsburg, 1980); Claus Westermann, Praise and Lament in the
Psalms (Atlanta: John Knox Press, 1981); Erhard Gerstenberger, Psalms. Part 1: With an
Introduction to Cultic Poetry (Grand Rapids, Mich.: Eerdmans, 1988).
27
E.g., Exod 15:1–18, 21; Deut 32:3–43; 33:26–29; Judg 5:3–5; 2 Sam 2:1–10. See
Steven Weitzman, Song and Story in Biblical Narrative: The History of a Literary Con-
vention in Ancient Israel (Bloomington, Ind.: Indiana University Press, 1997); James W.
Watts, Psalm and Story: Inset Hymns in Hebrew Narrative (JSOTSup 139; Sheffield:
JSOT Press, 1992). Cf. Gordley, The Colossian Hymn, 51–52.
28
Charlesworth includes a wide range of texts in his survey of non-biblical, early Jew-
ish hymns. While some of these texts bear formal similarities with hymns, many are best
described in other terms (e.g., prayers, laments, etc.), as they do not fully match the criteria
set forth for a hymn as outlined above. Pseudepigraphical and apocryphal texts bearing
the closest resemblance with biblical and/or Greek hymns include: Psalm 154; Dan (LXX)
3:24–90; Sir 39:12–35; Jdt 16:1–17; Pss. Sol. 2:30–37. See Gordley, The Colossian Hymn,
73–76; James H. Charlesworth, “Jewish Hymns, Odes, and Prayers (ca. 167 B.C.E.–135
C .E .),” in Early Judaism and Its Modern Interpreters (ed. Robert A. Kraft and George
W. E. Nickelsburg; Philadelphia: Fortress Press, 1986), 411–436; James H. Charlesworth,
“A Prolegomenon to a New Study of the Jewish Background of the Hymns and Prayers in
the New Testament,” JJS 33 (1982): 264–285; Flusser, “Psalms, Hymns, and Prayers”; Jan
Liesen, Full of Praise: An Exegetical Study of Sir 39,12–35 (Boston: Brill, 2000); Patrick
W. Skehan and Alexander A. Di Lella, The Wisdom of Ben Sira: A New Translation with
Notes and Commentary (AB 39; New York: Doubleday, 1987); Hans Hübner, Die Weisheit
Salomons (ATD Apokryphen 4; Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 1999), 101–113.
29
Bilha Nitzan, Qumran Prayer and Religious Poetry (Leiden: Brill, 1994); Esther G.
Chazon, “Hymns and Prayers in the Dead Sea Scrolls,” in Dead Sea Scrolls After Fifty
Years: A Comprehensive Assessment (ed. James C. VanderKam and Peter W. Flint; Leiden:
Brill, 1998), 244–270; Eileen M. Schuller, Non-Canonical Psalms from Qumran: A Pseud-
epigraphic Collection (Atlanta: Scholars Press, 1986); Eileen M. Schuller, “Some Reflec-
tions on the Function and Use of Poetical Texts among the Dead Sea Scrolls,” in Litur-
gical Perspectives: Prayer and Poetry in Light of the Dead Sea Scrolls (ed. Esther G.
Chazon; Leiden: Brill, 2003), 173–189; Bonnie Pedrotti Kittel, The Hymns of Qumran:
 2.1 Hymnic Material in the Ancient World 29

Extant hymns of the Roman period30 include the Orphic hymns,31 magi-
cal hymns, the hymns of Proclos,32 Isis Aretalogies,33 and the prose hymns
of Aelius Aristides.34 Included in the Roman period are those hymns which
appear in the New Testament,35 which are taken by most scholars to include:
Colossians 1:15–20,36 Philippians 2:5–11,37 the Magnificat in Luke’s

Translation and Commentary (Missoula, Mont.: Scholars Press, 1980); Carol Newsom,
Songs of the Sabbath Sacrifice: A Critical Edition (Atlanta: Scholars Press, 1985); Hart-
mut Stegemann, “The Number of Psalms in 1QHodayot and Some of Their Sections,” in
Liturgical Perspectives (see above), 191–234; Menahem Mansoor, The Thanksgiving
Hymns (Leiden: Brill, 1961).
30
For a brief introduction to Roman hymnody, see Martin, “The Roman Hymn,” 86–
97.
31
Apostolos Athanassakis, The Orphic Hymns: Text, Translation, and Notes (Missou-
la, Mont.: Scholars Press, 1977); Anne-France Morand, Études sur les Hymnes orphiques
(Boston: Brill, 2001); Gordley, The Colossian Hymn, 164–168.
32
Robert M. van den Berg, Proclus’ Hymns: Essays, Translations, Commentary
(Boston: Brill, 2001).
33
Dieter Müller, Ägypten und die griechischen Isis-Aretalogien (Berlin: Akademie
Verlag, 1961); Gordley, The Colossian Hymn, 147–155.
34
Charles Allison Behr, Aelius Aristides and the Sacred Tales (Amsterdam: A. M.
Hakkert, 1968); Gerhard Jöhrens, Der Athenahymnus des Ailios Aristeides (Bonn: Habelt,
1981); Donald A. Russell, “Aristides and the Prose Hymn,” in Antonine Literature (ed.
Donald A. Russell; Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1990), 199–216; Gordley, The Colossian
Hymn, 142–147.
35
Introductory studies on New Testament hymns include: Gloer, “Homologies and
Hymns in the New Testament”; Karris, A Symphony of New Testament Hymns; Gunter
Kennel, Frühchristliche Hymnen? (Neukirchen-Vluyn: Neukirchener Verlag, 1995); Kroll,
Die christliche Hymnodik bis zu Klemens von Alexandreia; Daniel Gerber and Pierre Keith,
eds., Les hymnes du Nouveau Testament et leurs functions: XXIIe congrès de l’Associa-
tion catholique française pour l’étude de la Bible (LD 225; Strasbourg: Les Éditions du
Cerf, 2009); Jack T. Sanders, The New Testament Christological Hymns: Their Historical
Background (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1971); Schattenmann, Studien zum
neutestamentlichen Prosahymnus; Gottfried Schille, Frühchristliche Hymnen (Berlin:
Evangelische Verlagsanstalt, 1965); Leonard Thompson, “Hymns in Early Christian Wor-
ship,” AThR 55 (1973): 458–472; Thompson, “Form and Function of Hymns”; Wengst,
Christologische Formeln und Lieder des Urchristentums.
36
Gordley, The Colossian Hymn; Jan Botha, “A Stylistic Analysis of the Christ Hymn
(Col 1:15–20),” in A South African Perspective on the New Testament (ed. Jacobus H.
Petzer and Patrick J. Hartin; Leiden: Brill, 1986), 238–251; Luis Carlos-Reyes, “The
Structure and Rhetoric of Colossians 1:15–20,” FN 12 (1999): 139–154; Ralph P. Martin,
“An Early Christian Hymn (Col 1:15–20),” EvQ 36 (1964): 195–205; Christian Stettler,
Der Kolosserhymnus: Untersuchungen zu Form, traditionsgeschichtlichem Hintergrund
und Aussage von Kol 1,15–20 (WUNT 2.131; Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2000).
37
R. P. Martin, A Hymn of Christ; cf. Stephen E. Fowl, The Story of Christ in the
Ethics of Paul: An Analysis of the Function of the Hymnic Material in the Pauline
Corpus (JSNTSup 36; Sheffield: JSOT Press, 1990), 31–46; Barbara Eckman, “A Quanti-
tative Metrical Analysis of the Philippians Hymn,” NTS 26 (1980): 258–266; Gordon D.
Fee, “Philippians 2:5–11: Hymn or Exalted Pauline Prose?,” BBR 2 (1992): 29–46.
30 Chapter 2: The Hymns in Revelation

Infancy Narrative,38 as well as the hymns in Revelation, to which I now

turn.

2.2 Exegetical Analysis of Revelation’s Hymns

In all, sixteen units are most commonly identified as hymns in Revelation:

4:8d–e, 11; 5:9b–10, 12b, 13b; 7:10b, 12; 11:15b, 17–18; 12:10b–12;
15:3b–4; 16:5b–7b; 19:1b–2, 3, 5b, 6b–8.39 However, insofar as most of
these hymns constitute antiphonal pairs (e.g., the hymnic unit in 4:11 is an
antiphonal response to the hymn in 4:8c; 5:12b is a response to 5:9b–10;
etc.),40 and are typically surrounded and separated by narrative elements
which provide some context for the hymns, they are most often considered
in terms of larger units.
Although these units are never identified by the text itself as hymns
(i.e., ὕµνοι) they can be identified as such on the basis of formal and func-
tional affinities with hymns in the ancient world. Each of these units meets
the most basic criterion of a hymn insofar as they consist of praise to a
deity, i.e., to the Lord God (4:9–11; 7:10–13; 11:17–18; 15:3–4; 16:5–7;

38
Stephen Farris, The Hymns of Luke’s Infancy Narratives: Their Origin, Meaning,
and Significance (JSNTSup 9; Sheffield: JSOT Press, 1985), 11–13, 67–85.
39
There are other units that bear affinities with hymnic forms, but which are most
often not considered as hymns, e.g., Rev 1:5a–6, 8; 13:4; 21:3b–4. The unit in Rev 1:5a–
6 is thought to contain preexisting material, and includes predicative titles, signaling the
possibility that it constitutes a hymnic element. However, it is not presented with the
introductory formula (λέγει/λέγοντες) that most often introduces hymns elsewhere in
Revelation. In Rev 1:8, the Lord God identifies God-self in the first-person as “the Alpha
and Omega … the one who is and was and who is coming, the Pantokrator.” This title
appears in hymns elsewhere in Revelation, which suggests that the title itself may be at
least part of a hymnic form, while the fact that it appears as a first-person declaration of a
god signals affinities with ancient hymns in the first-person (e.g., the “I am” hymns
associated with the Isis cult). However, this unit lacks the registry of the deeds of the
god, which suggests that it is something other than a hymn. These first two units might
be better characterized as liturgical units, or hymnic components, rather than hymns per
se. Rev 13:4 includes the introductory formula but shares virtually no other similarities
with other hymns, and ought not be considered as such. Finally, Rev 21:3b–5, though it
does not praise a god per se, appears much like a hymn to the tabernacle of God, in the
deeds that will be accomplished by its presence. See Jörns, Evangelium, 20–22, 121ff.;
O’Rourke, “The Hymns of the Apocalypse,” 400–401; Läuchli, “Eine Gottesdienststruk-
tur in der Johannesoffenbarung,” 361–367; Massyngbaerde Ford, “The Christological
Function of the Hymns,” 211–212, esp. n. 26.
40
Jörns characterizes the antiphonal character of the hymns as “Eine Responsion
drückt Zustimmung zu etwas Vorangegangenem und Aneignung desselben aus.” Jörns,
Evangelium, 19. Only the hymn in Rev 15:3b–4 stands alone without an antiphonal
response.
 2.2 Exegetical Analysis of Revelation’s Hymns 31

19:1–8), to the Lamb who, we shall see, is worshipped as a deity in Revel-

ation (5:9–13), or to God and the Lamb together (7:15–17; 11:15; 12:10–
12; 19:6–8).
Having met this general criterion, these units can be further identified as
hymns on the basis of the fact that they bear affinities with certain struc-
tural and/or stylistic hallmarks of hymns. That is, they typically begin with
an invocation of the divine addressee in the form of second or third person
address, often by including a divine epithet, the places of worship, and an
enumeration of divine attributes and deeds. Moreover, various aspects of
Revelation’s hymns bear affinities with specific hymnic forms. For in-
stance, to the extent that all of the hymns are said to be sung,41 apparently
to the accompaniment of the kithara (5:8; cf. 15:2), they can be considered
lyric hymns. However, insofar as the hymns are presented in a kind of
stylized prose, but not according to the principles of a particular metrical
system, they resemble non-metrical (but nonetheless lyric!) hymns.42
Further, those hymns sung by a group might be evaluated under the broader
rubric of choral hymns, while those sung by only one character evaluated
in light of monodic hymnody. Finally, insofar as the hymns are sung as
part and parcel of the worship of God and the Lamb in the heavenly
throne-room, they can be understood in terms of cultic hymns that were
performed in similar cultic contexts.
In what follows, I offer exegetical assessments of the individual hymns
in Revelation, including considerations of particular formal and stylistic
elements, internal structural, content, theological and/or Christological
value. I consider as well the contexts in which each of the hymns is sung,
the relationship of each hymn to the surrounding narrative, and the depic-
tion(s) of those singing the hymns.

41
Some of the hymns are clearly identified as songs, e.g., ᾄδουσιν … ᾠδὴν (5:9;
15:3). Elsewhere, the fact that the hymn is prefaced by an introductory formula suggests
that it is sung, as for example, with words like λέγοντες and κράζουσιν. Others are said to
be sung “φωνῇ µεγάλῃ” (5:12; 7:10; cf. 11:15), which also likely denotes singing.
42
For those familiar with Greek poetry and the metrical systems of Greek poetry in
particular, the term “lyric” as it is used to include non-metrical hymns may be somewhat
confusing. That is, in the world of Greek metrics, lyric poetry denotes verse that appears
in a strophic (as opposed to stichic) metrical system, and which was therefore thought to
have been sung to the accompaniment of an instrument such as the lyre. However, in the
world of ancient hymnody, lyric hymns refer to those sung to the accompaniment of a
musical instrument, regardless of whether or not they appeared in a particular metrical
system. This is due largely to the fact that in many poetic forms outside of the Greek
world hymns are not presented in metrical forms, despite the fact that they are sung to the
accompaniment of a musical instrument. Thus, there appear hymns in the ancient world
(e.g., in Hebrew poetry) that are non-metrical, but “lyric” to the extent that they are
thought to have been sung to the accompaniment of a musical instrument.
32 Chapter 2: The Hymns in Revelation

2.2.1 The Heavenly Throne-Room

A heavenly throne-room provides the setting for much of what transpires
in Revelation, including each of the three judgment scenes (the opening of
the Seals in 6:1–7; 8:1–5; the trumpet blasts in 8:6–9:21; 11:15–19; and
the seven bowls in 15:1–16:21), the measuring of the Temple (11:1–14),
the vision of the Lamb with the 144,000 on Mount Zion (14:1–5). Im-
portantly, the throne-room is also the location of the singing of each of the
16 hymns.43 While a full reflection on the imagery and symbolism of the
throne-room falls outside the scope of this study, a consideration of some
of its basic features will provide a picture of the context in which each of
the hymns is sung in Revelation, and reveal both the identities of some of
those who sing the hymns, as well as the objects of hymnic praise.
An initial description of the throne-room, which includes an accounting
of its most prominent features and a brief sketch of the characters who
occupy it, constitutes chapters 4 and 5 of Revelation. The first element
described is the throne itself, and the one seated upon it (4:2). The imagery
used to describe the throne leaves no doubt that the one seated upon it is
God, e.g., the throne itself is described as emitting lightning and thunder
(4:5a), which evokes the theophany on Mount Sinai in Exod 19:16–20; the
seven flaming torches in front of the throne (4:5b) recall the vision of the
heavenly throne-chariot of the Lord in Ezek 1:13; and the rainbow that
surrounds the throne (4:3) conjures the image of the glory of the Lord as it
is depicted later in Ezekiel’s vision (Ezek 1:27). What this imagery inti-
mates is made explicit at the end of the vision and subsequently throughout
Revelation: the one seated upon the throne is “Lord and God” (4:11; cf.
19:11).
The throne is said to be surrounded by four “Living Creatures” (τέσσαρα
ζῷα),44 each of whom is described as having six wings, with eyes covering

43
In some cases this fact is explicitly confirmed as, for example, in chapters 4 and 5,
where the depiction of the Elders and Living Creatures singing hymns is part and parcel
of the description of the throne-room itself. In other instances, it is clear that hymn-
singing is taking place in the heavenly throne-room, as when the Great Multitude is
described as “standing before the throne and before the Lamb …” (7:9), or when the 24
Elders are depicted singing while sitting “on their thrones before God” (11:16), etc. Cf.
Rev 7:11; 15:2–3; 19:4. In still other instances, though the throne-room itself is not
mentioned, it can be presumed that the hymns are being sung in it, insofar as the singing
is said to be done “in heaven” (e.g., 11:15; 12:10; 19:1). Only in Rev 16:5–7 is it unclear
exactly where the “Angel of the waters” is singing, though its location in the throne-room
in heaven can be inferred from the fact that the antiphonal response immediately follow-
ing it comes from the altar of the throne-room (16:7).
44
The Greek here is somewhat confusing. The Living Creatures are literally said to be
“in the midst of the throne and in a circle around the throne” (ἐν µέσῳ τοῦ θρόνου καὶ
κύκλῳ τοῦ θρόνου). This seems to be an amalgamation of descriptions of the Living
 2.2 Exegetical Analysis of Revelation’s Hymns 33

their front, back, and insides, and resembling respectively a lion, ox, human,
and eagle (4:6–8).45 These creatures, whose features especially resemble
those of heavenly entities as they are described in the throne-room visions
of Isaiah 6 and Ezekiel 1,46 as well as in heavenly visions of subsequent
Jewish literature,47 might be thought to function analogously to the crea-
tures in these antecedent visions, namely, to support the divine throne.48
But the primary function of the Living Creatures in Revelation, or at least
the only one revealed in the text, consists in their offering endless praise
and worship to God (4:8) and to the Lamb, who is introduced later in the
scene. As such, these creatures perform, oftentimes with other heavenly
entities, several of the hymns sung in Revelation (4:8; 5:9–13; 19:1–8).49
Depicted in a circle around the throne (κυκλόθεν τοῦ θρόνου) are 24
thrones, on which are seated 24 Elders (πρεσβυτέρους) described as wear-
ing white robes and golden crowns (4:4).50 Unlike the Living Creatures,
the identities of the 24 Elders are a matter of considerable debate because
they do not to appear in depictions of heavenly activity in antecedent
Jewish and Christian literature. Consequently, proposals for the identities
of the Elders have included: (1) Heavenly counterparts of the leaders of the
twenty-four courses of priests in Second Temple period; (2) Twenty-four
divisions of musicians, the descendants of Levi; (3) Heavenly representa-
tives of Israel and Church (e.g., 12 tribes of Israel + 12 Apostles); (4) Mar-
tyred Christians; (5) Old Testament Saints; (6) Angels of the heavenly
court; (7) Figures from Astral Mythology; (8) 24 books of the Old Testa-
ment; and/or (9) 24 hours of the day.51

Creatures in Ezekiel, which are described in the LXX as both “in the middle” of the fire
that represented God on a heavenly chariot (Ezek 1:5), and descriptions of the cherubim
in Isaiah, which are depicted “in a circle around” the throne of the Lord (Isa 6:2).
45
Robert G. Hall, “Living Creatures in the Midst of the Throne,” NTS 36 (1990): 609–
613; Jean Lévêque, “Les quatre vivants de l’Apocalypse,” Chr 26 (1979): 333–339.
46
E.g., four similar creatures, identified in the LXX as ζῷα and equated later in the
text with cherubim, are depicted in Ezekiel beside the divine throne, each having a
human form with faces of a human, lion, ox, and eagle, respectively (Ezek 1:5–14). Like-
wise, cherubim are depicted in the throne-vision in Isaiah in a circle around the throne,
having six wings (Isa 6:2).
47
E.g., 2 Bar. 51:11; Apoc. Ab. 10:9; 4QShirShabb; 1 En. 14; 60:1–6; 71; 2 Enoch 20–
21. See Aune, Revelation, 1:297.
48
The notion that cherubim support the divine throne is explicated most fully in Ezek-
iel, where their movements correspond with, and in fact determine, the movements of the
wheels on the divine chariot (Ezek 1:19–21). Cf. 2 Sam 22:11; Pss 18:10; 80:1; 99:1; Isa
37:16; 2 Bar. 51:11; Apoc. Ab. 10:9; 4QShirShabb.
49
Other hymns, including those in Rev 11:15 and 12:10–12, are sung by a heavenly
multitude that may include the creatures.
50
The 24 Elders are actually introduced in the text prior to the Living Creatures.
51
See David E. Aune, “Excursus 4A: The Twenty-Four Elders,” in his Revelation,
1:287–292; John P. Burke, “The Identity of the Twenty-Four Elders,” Grace Journal 3
34 Chapter 2: The Hymns in Revelation

Like the Living Creatures, the function of the 24 Elders consists primar-
ily of their offering praise and worship to God and the Lamb.52 It is ex-
plicitly stated that the Elders worship whenever the Living Creatures “give
glory, honor, and thanks” (4:9–10), and scenes in which the 24 Elders are
depicted in worship appear throughout the text. In these scenes, the Elders
are depicted with harps and censers filled with incense (5:8), prostrate
before the throne of God (4:10; 5:14; 11:16; 19:4), with their crowns cast
down before it, singing hymns to God and/or the Lamb (4:11; 5:9–14;
7:11–12; 19:5).53 The individual hymns of the Elders are considered below.
At the center (ἐν µέσῳ) of the throne appears a Lamb (ἀρνίον) with seven
horns and seven eyes, standing “as if slaughtered” (5:6).54 Though it is not
stated explicitly here, the Lamb represents the crucified and exalted Jesus.
So much is intimated by the fact that it is said to be “slaughtered,” a veiled
reference to Jesus’ death on the cross, an association which is made more
clear in the hymns to the Lamb which follow its introduction. Thus, as in
other passages in the New Testament in which Jesus’ crucifixion is under-
stood in terms of the expiatory sacrifice of a lamb (e.g., 1 Cor 5:7; John
1:29, 36), here also in Revelation is Jesus represented as a sacrificial lamb.55

(1961): 19–29; André Feuillet, “Les vingt-quatre vieillards de l’Apocalypse,” RB 65 (1958):

5–32; André Feuillet, “Quelques énigmes des chapitres 4 à 7 de l’Apocalypse: Suggestions
pour l’interprétation du langage imagé de la révélation Johannique,” Espérance et vie 86
(1976): 455–459, 471–479; Anthony E. Harvey, “Elders,” JTS 25 (1974): 318–332.
52
On two separate occasions, Rev 5:5 and 7:13–17, a comment is offered by an
individual Elder. These instances will be considered in more detail in the final chapter,
insofar as they can be understood in terms of the function of the chorus-leader in Greek
and Roman tragedy.
53
Other hymns, including those in Rev 11:15 and 12:10–12, are sung by a heavenly
multitude which may include the Elders.
54
On account of the ambiguous prepositional phrase used to describe the location of
the Lamb in the throne-room, the exact position of the Lamb vis-à-vis the throne, Living
Creatures, and Elders is not clear. At issue is the connotation of the phrase ἐν µέσῳ,
which can mean either “in the middle” or “in the midst.” The former rendering, which
implies that the Lamb is seated in the center of the throne (and thus located in the con-
ceptual center of the throne-room itself), seems more likely to be the correct one. Such a
reading corresponds with the claim in Rev 7:17 that the Lamb occupies the middle of the
throne (τὸ ἀρνίον τὸ ἀνὰ µέσον τοῦ θρόνου), and coincides with multiple claims in Rev-
elation that the exalted Christ shares the throne with his Father (3:21; 22:1). Others, how-
ever, on account of the fact that the Lamb is said in chapter 5 to have “gone and taken
[the scroll] from the right-hand of the one seated on the throne” (Rev 5:7), argue that the
Lamb was not on the throne at all, but depicted as standing in proximity to the throne, the
Creatures, and the Elders. Cf. Aune, Revelation, 1:351–352.
55
The notion that the crucifixion of Jesus represents an expiatory sacrifice is not only
inferred from the fact that Jesus is depicted as a slaughtered Lamb but is also suggested
in Rev 5:9, where the “blood of the Lamb” is said to serve as a ransom for God, and Rev
12:11, where the “brothers” (i.e., Christians) are said to have “conquered [the accuser] by
the blood of the Lamb.”
 2.2 Exegetical Analysis of Revelation’s Hymns 35

Unique in the New Testament, however, is the depiction in Revelation

of the crucified Jesus as the sacrificed Lamb who also stands in heaven as
a messianic ruler. The identification of Jesus in this way draws upon ante-
cedent Jewish apocalyptic traditions in which the Lamb is presented as a
leader or ruler,56 and in one case a Jewish messianic ruler.57 The associ-
ation of the Lamb as messianic ruler is further suggested by the fact that he
is designated “the Lion of the tribe of Judah, the Root of David” (5:5; cf.
22:16), titles with strong messianic overtones in early Jewish and Christian
literature.58 The depiction of the crucified Jesus as a messianic ruler in
heaven is most clearly demonstrated, however, by the fact that he shares
the throne with God (3:21; 5:6; 7:17; 22:1), and is tasked with carrying out
the eschatological judgment of God, which is represented in the depiction
of the Lamb’s taking the scroll and its seven seals (5:1–5), and opening
them to unleash the eschatological destruction upon the world (6:1–17;
8:1–5).
The initial description of the heavenly throne-room in chapters 4 and 5 is
rounded out by the depiction of the voice of “many angels … number[ing]
myriads of myriads and thousands of thousands” surrounding the throne in
a circle (5:11). Little more is said of these angels at this point in the text,
56
E.g., rams (and goats) represent kings of the Median and Persian empires in Dan
8:2–8, 20–21. Lambs represent various figures in the so-called Animal Apocalypse
(1 Enoch 85–90). Samuel is depicted as a lamb sent by God to David to become a ram,
i.e., an adult, male lamb which represents the king of the sheep (1 En. 89:42). On the lamb
imagery, see Charles K. Barrett, “The Lamb of God,” NTS 1 (1954–1955): 210–218; Paul
A. Harlé, “L’agneau de l’Apocalypse et le Nouveau Testament,” ETR 31 (1956): 26–35;
Norman Hillyer, “‘The Lamb’ in the Apocalypse,” EvQ 39 (1967): 228–236.
57
In the Testament of Joseph, the son of a “virgin born from Judah … a spotless
lamb” is depicted as withstanding the attack of a lion and other wild animals: “… but the
lamb conquered them, and destroyed them, trampling them underfoot” (T. Jos. 19:8). See
Joachim Jeremias, “Das Lamm, das aus der Jungfrau hervorging (TestJos 19.8),” ZNW 57
(1966): 216–219. Cf. early Christian sources in which Jesus is understood as a Lamb,
e.g., 1 Cor 5:7; John 1:29, 36.
58
Though used in tandem in Revelation, these titles have histories independent of one
another in early Jewish and Christian literature. The title “lion of Judah,” which was
bestowed upon Jacob’s son Judah (Gen 49:9), carries messianic symbolism insofar as it
was Judah’s progeny that would constitute the lineage of King David. The notion that the
figure of the lion represents the Messiah is conveyed in early Jewish texts such as T. Jud.
24:5 and 4 Ezra 12:31–32. The “Root of David” likewise has explicit messianic sym-
bolism insofar as it often was used to refer to the messianic king in prophetic texts of the
Hebrew Bible (e.g., Jer 23:5; Zech 3:8; 6:12; Isa 11:1, 10) and in early Jewish messianic
texts (4QFlor; 4QCommGen A 3–4; 4QpIsa 3:15–22; 4Q285 7:1–4; T. Jud. 24:4–6; Sir
47:22; 4 Ezra 12). Other early Christian texts reflect the view that the Messiah would be
born in the lineage of David. For example, the title “son of David” is applied to Jesus in
Matt 1:1; 9:27; 12:23; 15:22; 20:30; 21:9, 15; Mark 10:47–48; 12:35; Luke 18:38–39; cf.
Matt 1:6; Luke 1:32, 69; 2:4; 3:31; Acts 2:30–32; 13:22–23; Rom 1:3; 2 Tim 2:8. See
Aune, Revelation, 1:350–351.
36 Chapter 2: The Hymns in Revelation

though their identities may be understood in terms of depictions of heaven-

ly entities which surround the heavenly throne in antecedent Jewish litera-
ture. Most important among these is a scene in Daniel, in which the “An-
cient of Days” is described sitting on a throne, attended by “thousands of
thousands” (χίλιαι χιλιάδες) with “myriads of myriads” (µύριαι µυριάδες)
before him.59 Heavenly angels surrounding God’s throne are depicted in
terms similar to those in Dan 7:10 elsewhere in the Old Testament (Deut
33:2; cf. Job 25:2–3; Ps 68:17), Jewish apocalyptic literature (1 En. 14:22;
40:1; 60:1; 71:8; Apoc. Zeph. 4:1; 8:1; 2 Bar. 48:10), and in early Christian
literature that recalls these visions in Daniel and Enoch (1 Clem. 34:6; Jude
1:14). Thus, the angels surrounding the throne in Revelation appear to rep-
resent the innumerable angels who were fairly common stock characters in
scenes depicting God upon the heavenly throne in Jewish and Christian lit-
erature. As for their function in Revelation, they are introduced as singing,
along with the Living Creatures and Elders, praises to the Lamb (5:12;
7:11).
Having now surveyed each of the characters, and groups of characters,
as they are presented in the initial vision of the throne-room in Revelation
4 and 5, it remains to reflect briefly on the scene in its totality. Taken
together, the accoutrements, characters, and imagery that constitute the
heavenly throne-room scene suggests very strongly that the throne-room
represents the sanctuary of the heavenly temple of God, a notion further
suggested by the fact that the throne-room is explicitly designated a
“temple” (ὁ ναός) throughout Revelation (7:15; 11:19; 15:5–8; 16:1).60
The heavenly throne represents the center of this throne-room, both geo-
graphically insofar as it marks the center-point of the various groups of
heavenly entities arranged in circles around it – the Living Creatures, 24
Elders, and myriads of myriads and thousands of thousands of angels – but

59
Dan (LXX) 7:10.
60
Still, some of the features, imagery, and denizens of the throne-room in Revelation
are drawn from other conceptual realms, including earthly tabernacles and temples, the
heavenly court-room in Dan 7:9ff., descriptions of throne-rooms of Ancient Near Eastern
monarchs, and Roman Imperial court ceremonials. For a detailed consideration of the
images and accoutrements in the throne-room in terms of descriptions of tabernacles and
temples, see Briggs, Jewish Temple Imagery in the Book of Revelation; Gregory M.
Stevenson, Power and Place: Temple and Identity in the Book of Revelation (BZNW 107;
Berlin/New York: Walter de Gruyter, 2001). On similarities with Ancient Near Eastern
throne-rooms, see Mowry, “Rev 4–5 and Early Christian Liturgical Usage,” 75–84; David
E. Aune, “Revelation 5 as an Ancient Egyptian Enthronement Scene? The Origin and
Development of a Scholarly Myth,” in Kropp og Sjel: Festkrift til Olav Hognestad (ed.
Theodor Jørgensen, Dagfinn Rian, and Ole Gunnar Winsnes; Trondheim: Tapir Akade-
misk Forlag, 2000), 85–91. Finally, for similarities with Imperial Roman court ceremon-
ials, see David E. Aune, “The Influence of Roman Imperial Court Ceremonial on the
Apocalypse of John,” 5–26.
 2.2 Exegetical Analysis of Revelation’s Hymns 37

also conceptually insofar as it is the first element described in the vision

(4:2). In fact, the throne appears at several points to be a synecdoche for
the throne-room itself.61 The centrality of the throne derives from the fact
that the two primary characters in Revelation, God and the exalted Jesus,
are said to occupy it.
Having now considered this context for the performance of the hymns,
and several of the central characters who directly or indirectly take part in
singing them, it is possible to consider the hymns themselves in some detail.

2.2.2 Rev 4:8–11

The first antiphonal pair of hymns occurs at the conclusion of the intro-
ductory vision of the throne.62 The first hymn occurs as part and parcel of
the introduction of the Living Creatures, who are said to be “singing
(λέγοντες)63 day and night without ceasing”:
Holy, holy, holy, the Lord God the Almighty, who was and is and is to come.

The first part of this hymn recalls the (first part of the) so-called Trisagion,
the song sung by the heavenly seraphim around the heavenly throne of
God in Isa 6:3: “Holy, holy, holy is the Lord of hosts; the whole earth is
full of His glory,” a song which also appears in subsequent Jewish apoca-
lyptic texts (e.g., 1 En. 39:12–13; 2 En. 21:1), in 1 Clem. 34:6, a text prac-
tically contemporaneous with Revelation, and in later Jewish and Christian
liturgies,64 hekhalot literature, and magical texts.65

61
E.g., Rev 16:17; 19:5; 21:3.
62
This is also to say that there are no hymns in the prologue (1:1–8), the initial vision
of the Son of Man (1:9–20), or the letters to the seven churches (2:1–3:22).
63
This word is most often translated singing in English editions. Though λέγω most
often denotes the act of speaking or saying, with absolutely no sense of singing implied,
in certain contexts the word appears to take that meaning. See, for example, Anacreont.
23.1. That the term denotes singing in Revelation may be inferred from the fact that a
hymn is once specifically referred to as a “song” (5:9; 15:3), and also from the fact that
the participle λέγοντες is occasionally paired with indicative verbs that denote singing,
e.g., ᾄδουσιν (5:9; 15:3), and κράζουσιν (7:10).
64
While the Trisagion was most certainly prevalent in Jewish and Christian liturgies
in late antiquity, it is debated whether it constituted part of earlier Jewish and Christian
liturgies. On the question of the Trisagion in Jewish and Christian liturgies of late antiqui-
ty, see Bryan D. Spinks, The Sanctus in the Eucharistic Prayer (Cambridge: Cambridge
University Press, 1991); Joseph Heinemann, Prayer in the Talmud (SJ 9; Berlin: Walter
de Gruyter, 1977), 230–233. On the issue of the Trisagion in early Jewish and Christian
liturgies, see Mowry, “Revelation 4–5,” 75–84; David Flusser, “Jewish Roots of the
Liturgical Trisagion,” Imm 3 (1973–1974): 37–43; Prigent, Commentary, 29ff.
65
For a list of Hekhalot and magical texts in which the Trisagion appears, see Aune,
Revelation, 1:305–306.
38 Chapter 2: The Hymns in Revelation

Thus, the Trisagion in this hymn of the Living Creatures functions to

identify explicitly the one “seated upon the throne” in terms familiar from
antecedent Jewish traditions in which God is likewise seated upon a
heavenly throne and surrounded by a host of heavenly entities. At the same
time, the adjectives used to characterize God in this hymn, “Lord” (κύριος)
and “Almighty” (ὁ παντοκράτωρ), provide more specific information as to
the particular nature of the God being described. The attributive adjective
παντοκράτωρ denotes the belief that God is considered the ruler of all
things, which is suggested both by the etymology of the term,66 and by its
use in the LXX and in Greek literature and inscriptions.67 Thus, with this
term the sovereignty of God is highlighted.
The designation of God as κύριος, a term which has a long history in
non-Jewish Greek literature, the LXX, early Jewish and Christian litera-
ture, and properly denotes authority over a household, an army, slaves,
and/or other persons,68 further conveys the idea of the sovereignty of God.
The term was used widely throughout antiquity, apparently first of gods
and eventually of men, often in coordination with terms which similarly
denote authority and power, including βασιλεύς, θεός, and στρατηγός.
While the term is most often translated in modern English editions as an
attributive adjective (i.e., “Lord God Almighty”), it is actually a predicate
form, connoting rather more precisely the fact that God Almighty is Lord.
At any rate, like παντοκράτωρ, the adjective clearly denotes the essentially
sovereign nature of God.
The epithet “ὁ ἦν καὶ ὁ ὢν καὶ ὁ ἐρχόµενος,” which appears in the hymn
of the Elders in place of the traditional ending of the Trisagion, concludes
the strophe. While the substantive participle ὁ ὢν appears in the LXX and
in Hellenistic Jewish texts and inscriptions as a designation for God,69 the
epithet as it appears here (and, in variant forms, elsewhere in Revelation)
bears stronger affinities with the tri-partite designation for God in ante-
cedent non-Jewish Greek literature and in later Rabbinic sources, in which

66
Lit. “ruler of all.”
67
E.g., παντοκράτωρ is the Greek word used to translate the Hebrew ṣĕbā ͗ôt in the
LXX when it is not simply transliterated into Greek letters. Less frequently, it is found in
Greek inscriptions and literature, and used by Hellenistic Jewish authors, to denote the
supremacy of God over all things. Michaelis, “παντοκράτωρ,” TDNT 3:914–915.
68
Quell, Foerster, et al., “κύριος,” TDNT 3:1039–1095.
69
As it is used in the LXX and Hellenistic Judaism, the term may derive from Exod
(LXX) 3:14, where ἐγώ εἰµι ὁ ὤν stands as the Greek translation of “I am who I am”
(Heb.: ͗ehyeh ͗ăšer ͗ehyeh). See Josephus, Ant. 8.350; Philo, Mos. 1.75; Somn. 1.231;
Mut. 11; Det. 160; Deus 110; Opif. 172; Leg. all. 3.181; Abr. 121; Jer [LXX] 1:6; 4:10;
14:13; 39:17. For the term as it appears in Jewish inscriptions, magical texts and amulets,
see Aune, Revelation, 1:30–31.
 2.2 Exegetical Analysis of Revelation’s Hymns 39

God is characterized as one who “was, is, and will be.”70 As in these Greek
contexts, the epithet appears here to denote the eternity of God, with an
important modification: The standard characterization of God as one who
will be, has been changed to reflect the notion that God is coming. This
modification appears to put into relief the notion of the impending eschato-
logical arrival of God, a notion that is reflected throughout Revelation, and
which in fact serves as a kind of frame for the text as a whole.71 In this
way, the hymn re-frames the notion of the eternal existence of God to de-
note the fact that God’s future consists primarily in God’s coming, which,
as will be shown in the subsequent vision-sequences in chapters 6 through
21, entails judgment on God’s enemies and salvation for God’s elect.
Following this hymn of the Living Creatures is a brief narrative inter-
lude in which the 24 Elders are depicted as falling before the one seated on
the throne, and casting their crowns before it (4:9–10), a scene which
serves as the context for their performance of an antiphonal response to the
hymn of the Living Creatures:
You are worthy, our Lord and God, to receive glory and honor and power, for you
created all things, and by your will they existed and were created.

The first part of the hymn of the Elders consists of an introductory formula,
common to this and to the following two hymns (cf. 5:9, 11), an invocation
in which the subject is deemed to be “worthy to receive” a number of
predicate adjectives.72 In order to appreciate the meaning of this formula, it
is necessary first to evaluate the precise force of these adjectives.
Honor (τιµή) is best characterized as the value ascribed to someone (or
something), and/or acts and services that represent this value. In other
words, to bestow honor on somebody or something is to accord it a value,
and/or to perform some kind of act that represents this valuation.73 While

70
Various forms of this tri-partite temporal scheme can be found applied to various
gods throughout Greek literature, including: Homer, Il. 1:70; Plato, Tim. 37d ff.; Pausanias
10.12.5; Plutarch, Is. Os. 9,354c; Corp. Herm. 312.10. Several Rabbinic texts include the
tri-partite expression, including Exod. Rab. 3:14; cf. Deut 32:39. Büchsel, TDNT 2:399.
71
That is, a proclamation of the impending arrival of God appears in the very begin-
ning of Revelation (“Look, he is coming with the clouds!” (1:7), which is repeated three
times in the final chapter (22:7, 12, 20). Cf. claims that God will come upon those who
do not repent in Rev 2:5, 16.
72
(ἄξιος + λαβεῖν + dir. obj.) There are differences in the way that this formula is
found elsewhere in Revelation. For example, the invocation is found in both the second-
person form, as here and in 5:9, and the third-person form in 5:11. Likewise, there are
differences in the predicate adjectives that the subject is said to be “worthy” to receive,
and in the invocation. Despite these differences, some have claimed that the construction
constitutes a previously established Christian formula. See Jörns, Evangelium, 56–70.
73
J. Schneider, “τιµή,” TDNT 8:169–180.
40 Chapter 2: The Hymns in Revelation

in the most basic sense, then, honor represents a value, both in the LXX
and in non-Jewish Greek and Hellenistic literature, and in the New Testa-
ment, honor is very often the prerogative of persons of high-standing (e.g.,
kings), things of high-value, or of gods. That is, persons of high-standing
or gods are accorded honor(s), while those who are of little value have
little or no honor.
Glory (δόξα), as it occurs in the LXX and New Testament, has a related
connotation,74 insofar as it connotes the attributes of a person, or a god, by
which high status is revealed.75 In the case of persons of high-standing,
their glory may be revealed in their wealth and possessions, or in the im-
portance, reputation, and/or prestige associated with their status. As it re-
lates to God, glory is variously revealed, often through meteorological
phenomena, or by a radiant light, but in any case revealing the nature of
God.76 The fact that δόξα and τιµή similarly represent the high value or
status accorded to, or reflected by, a person, thing, or god, is reflected in
the fact that they often appear together, in the LXX, early Jewish literature,
and early Christian literature, as they are here in this hymn.77
Finally, in its most basic sense in the Greek world, power (δύναµις)
connotes the ability or capacity of a person to accomplish a task.78 This is
also the sense of the term as it is often employed in the LXX as a trans-
lation of the Hebrew ḥayil.79 However, the term takes on additional dimen-
sions in the LXX, as it sometimes appears to denote an army or the power
of an army – both as the translation of the Hebrew ḥayil80 and tzabah81 –
and, as a translation of the Hebrew geburah, more generally the power or
strength of a person, god, or army. 82 As it was used as a predicate in this

74
In non-biblical Greek sources the term often denotes simply an “opinion” or “ex-
pectation.” Kittel, “δόξα,” TDNT 2:233–234.
75
Kittel, TDNT 2:238–242.
76
In the New Testament the “glory” of God is also variously depicted as the radiance
of God, with the innovation that it is revealed through Jesus, e.g., in the Synoptic stories
of Jesus’ Transfiguration and in stories of his resurrection appearances, and variously in
the Gospel of John.
77
E.g., Pss 8:6; 28:1; 95:7; Job 40:10; 2 Chr 32:33; 1 Macc 14:21; 1 Tim 1:17; Heb
2:7, 9; 3:3; 2 Pet 1:17; Rev 21:26; 1 Clem. 45:8; 61:1, 2; 1 En. 5:1; 99:1; Josephus, Ant.
12.118.
78
The root δυνα- connotes the capacity for accomplishing a task, i.e., “being able to.”
Grundmann, “δύναµαι,” TDNT 2:284–285.
79
Grundmann, TDNT 2:285–286.
80
As, for example, in Exod (LXX) 14:28 when Pharoah’s “army” (δύναµις) is said to
be drowned in the Red Sea.
81
The Hebrew tzaba, which denotes an army, is translated δύναµις 120 times in the
LXX.
82
In this more general sense, it appears to function as a synonym for ἰσχύς, which is
also regularly found in the LXX as a translation of the Hebrew geburah.
 2.2 Exegetical Analysis of Revelation’s Hymns 41

general sense, it usually reflected the attributes of someone of high-status,

such as a king, warrior, or God.83
Thus, having established the fact that “glory, honor, and power” are the
prerogatives of someone of high-status, it remains to consider precisely the
status that is being demonstrated by the claim that God is “worthy to
receive” these attributes. On its own, the term ἄξιος denotes the legitimacy
or the reasonableness of something, as is commonly conveyed by means of
a third-person impersonal construction, i.e., ἄξιόν ἐστιν.84 Thus, as a predi-
cate adjective that modifies the subject of the clause (“You, our Lord and
God”), the term denotes the reasonableness or legitimacy of God’s receiv-
ing “glory, honor, and power.” Another way to translate this might be to
say that, “You, our Lord and God, deserve to receive glory, honor, and
power.”
Putting these observations together, the first line of the hymn of the
Living Creatures in 4:11 functions as a claim that the Lord and God, the
one who sits on the throne, is rightly and legitimately accorded a high-
status. More precisely, the hymn promotes the idea that God is legitimately
accorded the status of divine sovereign. On one hand, the notion of the
sovereignty of God is conveyed here insofar as the term κύριος is used as a
designation for God, a term which, in the discussion of the previous hymn
above, was shown to connote ultimate power and authority. On the other
hand, the performative context in which the hymn is sung suggests as
much. That is, the hymn is said to be sung by the 24 Elders while “they fall
before (πεσοῦνται) the one seated on the throne … worshipping the living
one … and casting their crowns before the throne” (4:10), images which
each denote obeisance: bowing down before a personage clearly suggests
subordination on the part of the one prostrating, as does the verb used to
denote worship itself (προσκυνέω),85 while the act of casting down crowns
evokes scenes of conquered kings presenting their crowns to their sub-
jugators86 and/or the practice of Roman subjects presenting golden crowns

83
See Marc Zvi Brettler, God Is King: Understanding an Israelite Metaphor (JSOTSup
76; Sheffield: Sheffield Academic Press, 1989), 57–68.
84
1 Cor 16:4; 2 Thess 1:3.
85
The notion that “falling down” before someone constituted an act of obeisance and
worship has roots in Near Eastern tradition, and can be found throughout the Old Testa-
ment. It also appears in the New Testament, as when the Magi fall down and worship the
baby Jesus in Matt 2:11, or when Satan tempts Jesus to fall before him to worship in Matt
4:9; cf. Cornelius bowing down before Peter in Acts 10:25. The verb προσκυνέω, which
follows the act of falling down in this case and in many others, likewise denotes subordi-
nation on the part of the one performing worship.
86
Tacitus, Ann. 15.29; cf. 2 Sam 1:10; 12:30; 1 Chr 20:2.
42 Chapter 2: The Hymns in Revelation

to emperors at their adventus.87 Thus, the language of the hymn itself as

well as the performative context in which this hymn is sung, suggests that
the hymn ought to be interpreted as part and parcel of the praise of God as
heavenly sovereign.
The language used to extol the sovereignty of God in these hymns may
be understood to reflect honorific language used in the praise of Roman
emperors. The second-person invocation that God is “worthy” itself recalls
the acclamation shouted by the crowd at the ascension of Vespasian to the
throne in 70 C.E.: “Benefactor, savior, and only worthy ruler of Rome …,”88
and similar acclamations (the rest of which post-date Revelation) that use
the adjective ἄξιος as a predicate of the emperor.89 Likewise, the desig-
nation of the one who sits on the throne as “our Lord and God” (ὁ κύριος
καὶ ὁ θεὸς ἡµῶν) as it appears in the hymn likely reflects titles that were
bestowed upon Roman emperors.90
By evoking honorifics that denoted the sovereignty of Roman emperors
and appropriating them for God, this hymn not only makes a claim for the
sovereignty of God, but constitutes an implicit rejection of the claim of
sovereignty of the emperors.91 That is, the hymn makes clear that the one
who sits on the heavenly throne is rightly called “our Lord and God,” and
the ultimate sovereign, not the emperor.92

87
Stevenson, “Conceptual Background to the Golden Crown Imagery in the Apoca-
lypse of John”; cf. Aune, “Excursus: Ancient Wreath and Crown Imagery,” in his Revel-
ation, 1:172–175, 308–309.
88
Josephus, J.W. 7.71.
89
Evidence of similar acclamations accorded to emperors exists in the 3rd c. C.E. and
later. See Peterson, ΕΙΣ ΘΕΟΣ, 176–180; cf. José Comblin, Le Christ dans l’Apocalypse
(Tournai: Desclée, 1965).
90
Notably, Suetonius claims that Domitian appropriated for himself the title dominus
et deus noster (Suetonius, Dom. 13.2). This claim was repeated by subsequent authors,
e.g., Dio Cassius 67.5.7; 67.13.4, who claims that Domitian was called δεσπότης καὶ
θεός, and Dio Chrysostom, Or. 45.1. These claims have led to speculation that the title as
it appears in Rev 4:11 alludes specifically to Domitian’s use of the title. However, L. L.
Thompson and others have argued that the notion that Domitian appropriated such divine
titles for himself was instigated by a smear campaign by later authors under the benefac-
tion of later emperors, and is not likely to be historically accurate. At any rate, inscrip-
tions from Egypt reveal that Domitian was designated ὁ κύριος, and it is clear that each
of the titles (“Lord” and “God”) was applied to later emperors. See Thompson, Revel-
ation, 104ff.; Aune, Revelation, 1:310–312.
91
J. Daryl Charles, “Imperial Pretensions and the Throne-Vision of the Lamb: Obser-
vations on the Function of Revelation 5,” CTR 7 (1993): 87.
92
E.g., “It was the Christian vision of the incomparable God, exalted above all earthly
power, which relativized Roman power and exposed Rome’s pretensions to divinity as a
dangerous delusion … in the light of God’s lordship over history, it becomes clear that
Rome does not hold ultimate power …” Bauckham, Theology, 39.
 2.2 Exegetical Analysis of Revelation’s Hymns 43

An understanding of the hymn as an implicit rejection of claims of the

sovereignty of the emperor is supported by the fact that unmistakably anti-
Imperial rhetoric occurs elsewhere in Revelation, most clearly in the
visions of the Beasts in chapter 13, the Whore of Babylon in chapter 17,
and the destruction of Babylon in chapter 18, which are thought by vir-
tually all scholarly accounts to represent denunciations of various aspects
of the Imperial social, economic, and political apparatus.93
If the acts of the Elders while singing their hymn, taken together with
the contents of the first part of the hymn, assert the sovereignty of God
over and against claims of the sovereignty of the emperor, the second part
of the hymn clarifies the basis for the claim. That is, a causal clause is
attached to the first part of the hymn, whose parallel construction leaves no
uncertainty as to the basis for the claim of God’s sovereignty: “You created
all things//By your will they were and were created.” The creative power
of God makes sense as a basis for the claim that God is the legitimate
sovereign of the world over and against claims that the emperor is properly
considered the world’s sovereign. That is, any basis that one might claim
for the sovereignty of the emperor (power, wealth, etc.) is trumped by the
power of God that is displayed through creation.
A few summative remarks on the first antiphonal hymn are in order. On
a structural level, the hymns of the Living Creatures and 24 Elders con-
clude the descriptions of the heavenly throne, and in this way they serve as
a transitional point between this scene and the description of the scroll, and
the Lamb, in chapter 5. At the same time, the hymns perform a specific
theological task, whose function relates to the preceding vision, in which a
picture is painted of a heavenly throne-room, whose center is the throne,
and the one seated on it, surrounded by a heavenly retinue. The hymns
constitute a theological reflection on this vision. God is identified in very
specific terms as the heavenly sovereign, and a theological justification is
offered for the claim: Because God has created all things, God is worthy to
be considered in such terms. While the notion that the vision depicts the
sovereign, heavenly God might be reasonably inferred from elements of
the vision itself, the hymns make this explicit, and go further to cast this
vision of the sovereign God in such a way as to challenge the claims of the
sovereignty of the emperor. Put another way, the hymns provide a specific
theological frame for considering the scene as a whole. As we shall see,
the function of the hymns to cast the surrounding vision(s) in a particular
93
E.g., “The majority of commentaries on Rev. see in Rev. a concrete political con-
flict with the Roman Empire expressed in mythological language (e.g., Swete, Charles,
Loisy, Beckwith, Carrington, Wikenhauser, Caird, Visser, Kiddle-Ross).” Schüssler-
Fiorenza, The Book of Revelation, 75, n. 59. See also Bauckham, Theology, 35–39; David
A. deSilva, Seeing Things John’s Way: The Rhetoric of the Book of Revelation (Louis-
ville: Westminster John Knox Press, 2009), 37–48.
44 Chapter 2: The Hymns in Revelation

theological light by means of explicit theological reflections on the visions

is characteristic of the hymns throughout Revelation.

2.2.3 Rev 5:9–14

The second antiphonal series of hymns immediately follows the introduc-
tion and description of the Lamb in Rev 5:6–7, and concludes the chapter.
In order to evaluate the content of the hymns, it is necessary first to con-
sider in more detail this context in the beginning of the chapter. The vision
in chapter 5 begins with a description of a “scroll … sealed with seven
seals” in the right hand of the one seated on the throne (5:1), followed by
the voice of an angel inquiring, “Who is worthy to open the scroll and
break its seals?” (5:2). There have been many suggestions as to what pre-
cisely is represented by the scroll (βιβλίον), including an opisthograph,94
the Torah, a contract deed,95 the judgments and promises of the book of the
prophets,96 a Roman legal will,97 and the Book of Life.98 Whatever the
scroll itself is meant to represent, however, its significance is tied to the
fact that the opening of its seals represents the destruction unleashed upon
the world by God’s emissaries. That is, as becomes clear in chapter 6, the
opening of the first seal corresponds with the unleashing of the rider on the
white horse, who comes out “conquering and to conquer” (6:1–2), while the
opening of the second seal corresponds to the rider of the red horse with
the great sword, who permits people to slaughter one another (6:2), and so
on. Thus, the scroll ultimately signifies God’s power over the world.99
The notion that the scroll represents the power of God is critical for an
understanding of the introduction of the Lamb in this chapter and through-
out the text, as well as the hymns that conclude the chapter. After a narra-
tive sequence in which there is said to be great lament over the fact that it
appears there is no one able or worthy to “open the scroll or look into it”
(5:3–4), the Lamb is introduced in Messianic terms as the “Lion of the
Tribe of Judah” and the “Root of David” (5:5), and then described as sitting
“in the midst of the throne” (5:6), and taking the scroll from the one seated
on the throne (5:7). This sequence, which has been likened to an enthrone-

94
A double-sided scroll, as in Ezek 2:10. Aune offers a comprehensive summary of
each of these suggestions (and several more) in Revelation, 1:338–346.
95
As in Babylonian and other Ancient Near Eastern traditions (e.g., Jer 32:9ff.).
Beasley-Murray, Book of Revelation, 120–121.
96
Isa 8:16; 29:11; Dan 12:4.
97
Otto Roller, “Das Buch mit den sieben Siegeln,” ZNW 26 (1937): 98–113.
98
The Book of Life, mentioned in various Old Testament, New Testament, and Jewish
apocalyptic texts, is described elsewhere in Revelation (3:5; 13:8; 17:8; 20:15; 21:27).
Boring, Revelation, 104.
99
See, e.g., Ranko Stefanovič, “The Background and Meaning of the Sealed Book of
Revelation 5” (Ph.D. diss., Andrews University, 1995), 9–10.
 2.2 Exegetical Analysis of Revelation’s Hymns 45

ment scene,100 court commissioning,101 and an investiture,102 thus ultimate-

ly represents the transfer of the power of the judgment of God to the Lamb.
This sequence provides the interpretive context for considering the three
antiphonal hymns sung in response to it. The first hymn is sung together by
the Living Creatures and the 24 Elders, who are said to sing a “new song”
(ᾠδὴν καινήν) at the moment that the Lamb takes the scroll (5:8):
You are worthy to take the scroll and to open its seals; because you were slaughtered and
you redeemed for God with your blood [people] from every tribe, tongue, people and
nation; and you made them a kingdom and priests for our God and they will rule upon the
earth.

This hymn bears strong formal affinities with the previous hymn of the 24
Elders in 4:11. It begins with the same formula, i.e., a second-person
address in which the subject is deemed to be “worthy to receive” some-
thing.103 Insofar as this formula was shown in the previous hymn to function
to demonstrate legitimacy, the declaration here by the Living Creatures
and 24 Elders that the Lamb is “worthy to take the scroll and open its
100
Many have argued that these elements taken together reflect divine enthronement
scenes from Ancient Near Eastern traditions. So, for instance, A. Jeremias, Bousset, and
Gunkel each recognized affinities between the scene in chapter 5 and depictions of Mar-
duk assuming power by gaining control of the “tablets of destiny.” Likewise, J. Jeremias,
T. Holtz, and J. Roloff have each suggested that the scene reflects the pattern of the en-
thronement of Egyptian kings. For a survey and criticism of these positions, see Willem
Cornelis van Unnik, “‘Worthy is the Lamb’: The Background of Apoc. 5,” in Mélanges
bibliques en hommage au R. P. Béda Rigaux (ed. Albert Descamps et al.; Gembloux:
Duculot, 1970), 445–461.
101
Müller has considered chapter 5 in terms of antecedent Old Testament and Ancient
Near Eastern traditions that depict God commissioning a member of the heavenly court to
carry out a particular task. In such scenes, God asks the heavenly court who is able to
perform a particular deed (e.g., Isa 6:8: “Whom shall I send and who will go for us?”),
followed by a commission in which God ordains a particular person to fulfill the task
(e.g., Isa 6:9–13). These elements of a heavenly commission are thought by Müller to be
reflected in the question of the angel in Rev 5:2: “Who is worthy to open the scroll and to
break its seals?” and the subsequent claims that the Lamb is “worthy” to open it. Hans-
Peter Müller, “Die himmlische Ratsversammlung: Motivgeschichtliches zu Apc 5:1–5,”
ZNW 54 (1963): 254–267.
102
Aune has likened the scene to what he calls the “investiture” of the “one like the
son of Man” in Dan 7:9–14, inasmuch as the “one like the son of Man” is presented
before the “Ancient of Days” seated on a throne, before the divine retinue (Dan 7:9–10),
and “given dominion, glory, and kingship” (Dan 7:14a). Though this investiture scene
bears affinities to “enthronement” scenes elsewhere in the Old Testament, Ancient Near
East, and Jewish literature, Aune argues that it should be distinguished from an “en-
thronement” scene insofar as investiture consists of the “act of establishing someone in
office or the ratification of the office that someone already holds informally,” rather than
the act of taking the throne per se. Aune, Revelation, 1:336–338.
103
On the question of whether ἄξιος + λαβεῖν + dir. obj. constitutes a previously
established Christian formula, see Jörns, Evangelium, 56–70.
46 Chapter 2: The Hymns in Revelation

seals” is a claim to the legitimacy of the investiture of the Lamb repre-

sented in the act. In other words, the Lamb deserves to take the seal, and in
so doing to be invested with the power to enact the judgment of God. The
precise nature of this power, which is elaborated in the antiphonal response
to this hymn, will be described in more detail below.
As in 4:11, the ἄξιος formula is followed by a causal clause that reveals
the basis for the claim of the Lamb’s worthiness to receive power: because
the Lamb “was slaughtered,” it both “redeemed for God with his blood
[people] from every tribe, tongue, people, and nation” (5:9c), and “made
them a kingdom and priests [who] will rule upon the earth” (5:10). It must
first be noted that with this clause the identity of the Lamb is revealed as
none other than the crucified Jesus himself. This is made clear not only
from the designation of the Lamb as having been “slaughtered,” which
alludes to Jesus’ death on the cross,104 but also the soteriological benefits
that are said to result from his death – redemption (5:9c) and being made a
“kingdom and priests” (5:10a) – benefits recognized elsewhere by early
Christian authors to have been conferred by Jesus’ death.105
This clause does more than simply to identify the crucified Jesus as the
enthroned heavenly Lamb; it also explicitly reveals the mechanism by
which the death of Jesus is thought to have resulted in such exaltation. The
claim that Jesus “redeemed (ἀγόρασας) [people] of every tribe, tongue,
people, and nation” can be understood as Jesus’ purchasing these people for
God. That is, insofar as the term regularly denotes the act of buying some-
thing, most often in exchange for money, Jesus is described here as quite
literally having purchased people for God (τῷ θεῷ), with the price being
“the blood” (ἐν τῷ αἵµατι)106 that was shed through his death on the cross.
This soteriological mechanism can be evaluated alongside similar con-
structions elsewhere in the New Testament in which people are said to
have been purchased for a price.107 Paul, for example, claims that indi-

104
So much can be inferred from the fact that Jesus’ death is reckoned a “slaughter”
or “sacrifice” elsewhere in the New Testament. The verb σφάζω is only ever used to
characterize Jesus’ death in Revelation (5:6, 9, 12; 13:8), while Jesus’ death on the cross
is characterized as a “slaughter” or “sacrifice” elsewhere in the New Testament with the
verb θύειν (e.g., 1 Cor 5:7; cf. Mark 14:12; Luke 22:7). That this term alludes to Jesus’
death is further suggested by the fact that elsewhere in Revelation the term is used to
refer to Christians who have been killed (Rev 6:9; 18:24).
105
E.g., 1 Pet 2:1–10.
106
The price paid is typically represented in the genitive case. Perhaps the fact that
the price appears here in the dative case is a result of the fact that it was non-monetary.
That is, the dative would denote the means by which the payment was made, as opposed
to a precise sum of money. Cf. 1 Pet 1:18–19, in which the price paid is denoted in the
dative form.
107
1 Cor 6:20; 7:23; 2 Pet 2:1; Rev 14:3; cf. Gal 3:13; 4:5.
 2.2 Exegetical Analysis of Revelation’s Hymns 47

viduals have been “purchased for a price.”108 Paul makes clear that Jesus’
death is understood to constitute the price by which people are pur-
chased,109 though it is not clear precisely to whom the price has been paid,
or exactly who has been purchased.110 At any rate, such a transaction
constitutes redemption for those who have been purchased insofar as they
are said to receive an improved status as a result. That is, they are given
the “blessing of Abraham … and the promise of the Spirit” (Gal 3:13),
considered “adopted children” of God (Gal. 4:5), or the rightful property
(“slaves”) of God (1 Cor 6:20; 7:23).111
The notion that Jesus’ death constituted a transaction in which people
were purchased or redeemed for God is often understood in the context of
the manumission of slaves, whereby the freedom of a slave could be
purchased by the slave himself or by some other entity. 112 Critical to an
understanding of this concept is the role of a god in such a transaction,
who was sometimes said to be the one to whom the price was paid.113 That
is, the freedom of the slave could be said to be purchased on behalf of a
god, whereby the slave was said to become the rightful property of the
god.114 Such a transaction was a fiction to the extent that it was the slave-
owner who actually received the payment for the slave’s freedom (not the
god), and that the slave was wholly set free, not technically or practically
understood to be the property of the god.
Thus, the claim that people are redeemed in the hymn in Rev 5.9 may be
considered in these terms. That is, an agent (Jesus) purchased people for
God, for a price (his “slaughter”), with the result that they receive an im-
proved status: they will be a “kingdom and priests” (5:10a) who will “rule

108
Cf. 1 Cor 6:20; 7:23.
109
That is, by becoming a “curse … by hang[ing] on a tree” (Gal 3:13).
110
See J. Louis Martyn, Galatians (AB 33A; New York: Doubleday, 1997), 317, n. 106;
Richard B. Hays, The Faith of Jesus Christ (Grand Rapids, Mich.: Eerdmans, 1983), 128,
n. 18; Nicholas T. Wright, The Climax of the Covenant (Philadelphia: Fortress Press,
1992), 143.
111
On the improved status of these “slaves of God,” see Dale Martin, Slavery as
Salvation (New Haven: Yale University Press, 1990), xvi–xvii, 63.
112
Adolf Deissmann, Light from the Ancient East (Grand Rapids, Mich.: Baker Book
House, 1965), 322; Hans Dieter Betz, Galatians: A Critical & Historical Commentary on
the Bible (Hermeneia; Philadelphia: Fortress Press, 1989), 150, n. 117; Büchsel, “ἀγορά-
ζω,” TDNT 1:124–128; Jerome Neyrey, 2 Peter, Jude (AB 37C; New York: Doubleday,
1993), 191–192; Martin, Slavery as Salvation, 62–63; I. Howard Marshall, “The Devel-
opment of the Concept of Redemption in the New Testament,” in Reconciliation and
Hope (ed. Robert J. Banks; Grand Rapids, Mich.: Eerdmans, 1974), 154–160.
113
In one instance, the god himself purchases the slave’s freedom. See Betz, Gala-
tians, 150, n. 117.
114
E.g., “On behalf of the Pythian Apollo, NN purchased a male slave called XY, at a
price of so many mina, to freedom …” Deissmann, Light from the Ancient East, 322.
48 Chapter 2: The Hymns in Revelation

upon the earth” (5:10b). While in Paul’s use of the term it appears that
being purchased entails freedom from being “cursed under the law” (Gal
3:13; cf. 4:5), it is not absolutely clear in Revelation from whom or from
what the saints are purchased. It might be inferred from the context,
however, that the previous status from which the saints were purchased
was related to their having been killed in the great tribulation. In other
words, it may be that their current status before the heavenly throne of God
constitutes “redemption” from the death they suffered during the tribula-
tion.115
The notion that the saints constitute a “kingdom” and “priests” conjures
God’s revelation to Moses in the desert that the children of Israel will re-
ceive the privilege of becoming a “kingdom of priests” (Exod 19:6). In the
construction here, however, which mirrors the claim in Rev 1:5, the elect
appear to receive two distinct privileges, designated both a “kingdom” and
“priests to God.” Moreover, the rule will take place not in the current order
of things, but after all things have been made new.116
The implication of their designation as a(n eschatological) “kingdom”
appears to be that they will receive political benefits. So much is con-
firmed in the final clause of the hymn, insofar as it is said that they “will
rule upon the earth,” a notion that appears elsewhere in Jewish apocalyptic
texts117 and in early Christian texts in various forms, apocalyptic and
otherwise.118 However, the claim that God’s elect will rule is reconfigured
here in such a way as to suggest that their rule is associated with their
status as priests, a theme that is repeated later in Revelation, when the mar-
tyrs are said to “become priests of God and of Christ, and reign a thousand
years with Christ” (20:6).
Following this “new song” (an apt title for a song extolling the redemp-
tive power of the Lamb insofar as it recalls the “New Song” sung of Moses
[Exod 15:1–18] in praise of the redemptive power of God to deliver God’s
people from Egypt) is an antiphonal response sung by the Living Creatures
and 24 Elders, and the angels encircling the throne numbering “myriads of
myriads, thousands of thousands”:

115
In this way, the metaphor of redemption has been further detached from its original
context. Whereas the term originally connoted the transaction by which an actual slave
was manumitted, Paul uses the term to connote the transaction by which freedom was
attained from what might be called spiritual slavery. As it is used in Revelation, the term
is practically divorced from a(ny) context which denotes slavery per se.
116
This much is made clear later in the text, when the elect are said to become
“priests … who will rule … with Christ for 1,000 years” (Rev 20:6), after the judgments
of God on the current order have taken place.
117
E.g., Dan 7:18, 27; T. Dan. 5:13; 1QM 12:15.
118
Q 23:30; 1 Cor 6:2; Rom 5:17; Acts Thom. 137; Athanasius, Vita Ant. 16.
 2.2 Exegetical Analysis of Revelation’s Hymns 49

Worthy is the Lamb who was slain to receive power, wealth, wisdom, might, honor,
glory, and blessing.

Here, in a third-person impersonal form that evokes the acclamations of

worthiness of God and the Lamb in the prior two hymns, the slaughtered
Lamb, who has now been clearly identified as the exalted Jesus, is said to
be “worthy” to receive a series of seven prerogatives. Remarkable is the
fact that these prerogatives are precisely the attributes bestowed upon God
elsewhere in Revelation. As we saw in the hymn in chapter 4, “glory,”
“honor,” and “power” were the prerogatives of God on account of God’s
status as heavenly sovereign. These attributes are precisely those said to be
invested in the Lamb upon the Lamb’s taking of the scroll. Thus, to say
that the Lamb is “worthy” to receive prerogatives that characterize God
elsewhere in Revelation is to say that the Lamb is the legitimate recipient
of the divine attributes.119 This claim appears to be validated on the basis
of the Lamb’s investiture with power: because the Lamb is worthy to take
the scroll (i.e., to be invested with the power of God), the Lamb is thereby
worthy to receive those divine attributes that characterize God.120
Insofar as these attributes denote the sovereignty of God, the ascription
of these attributes to the Lamb conveys the notion that the sovereignty of
God has been transferred to, and is now embodied in, the Lamb. To the list
of predicates in the hymn to God in chapter 4 is added “wealth” (πλοῦτος),
“wisdom” (σοφία), “might” (ἰσχύς), and “blessing” (εὐλογία) in this hymn
to the Lamb in chapter 5. Like those in chapter 4, these attributes are also
the prerogatives of someone of high-status, such as a king, or a god.121

119
Inasmuch as the notion that the exalted Jesus is the legitimate recipient of divine
attributes is suggested by the contents of the hymn, it is also made clear insofar as the
Lamb is praised in a manner so similar to the manner in which God is praised in the
previous hymn. The notion that the Lamb is the rightful recipient of divine praise is
reflected in the very fact that the Lamb is praised alongside God.
120
To say that the Lamb is the legitimate recipient of divine attributes is not, however,
to say that the Lamb is God. While this hymn reflects the notion that the exalted Jesus
embodies the attributes of God, and that the he ought to be venerated in a manner similar
to that which is used to praise God, Jesus is clearly distinguished from God here and
throughout Revelation. They share the throne as distinct entities, and carry out distinct
functions throughout Revelation. What’s more, the bases for their respective attributions
and functions are unique: God is venerated on account of the fact that God created the
world, while Jesus’ exalted position is due to the salvific effect(s) of his death on the
cross. In short, Jesus is not venerated as God in this (or any other) hymn. Cf. Bauckham,
who argues that the “parallel” worship of God and the Lamb reflects a theological view-
point in which the Lamb is considered to be God. Bauckham, Theology, 53–65. Cf.
Prigent, Commentary, 259.
121
In many instances, “might” functions as a synonym for “power” (e.g., each appear
in the LXX as a translation of the Hebrew geburah), and likewise denotes the strength of
a person, army, or God. “Wealth,” though rarely understood to be an attribute of God,
50 Chapter 2: The Hymns in Revelation

Insofar as these attributes often characterize a sovereign per se, and were
applied in such a way in chapter 4 to denote the sovereignty of God (i.e., in
the context of hymnic praise to one seated on a throne, in terms which
conjure the praise of the Roman emperor), they can be taken here to denote
the Lamb’s sovereignty. In other words, insofar as this hymn conveys the
notion that divine sovereignty has been transferred to the Lamb, it conveys
the fact that the Lamb has been rightfully designated a heavenly king.
This reading of the hymn is supported not only by the fact that Jesus
functions as a king in Revelation (e.g., shares the throne with God, and
acquires the power of God to judge the earth), but also insofar as Jesus’
status as heavenly king is made explicit elsewhere in the text, as when the
Lamb is designated “king of kings” (17:14), in claims that Jesus Christ is
the “ruler of the kings of the earth” (1:5), and that “the kingdom of the
world has become the kingdom of our Lord and His Messiah” (11:15).
The attribution of divine qualities to the Lamb as a consequence of his
investiture as heavenly king can be considered in terms of the distribution
of divine prerogatives to (human) kings in the Old Testament. Wisdom, for
example, was frequently mentioned as an attribute given to the king by
God, as in the example of King Solomon (1 Kgs 3:12; 5:9, 21, 26).122
Attributes relating to strength (i.e., “power” and “might”),123 and wealth,124
were likewise viewed as divine prerogatives that could be granted to the
king by God. Dan 2:37 (LXX) offers an example of the attribution of a list
of divine qualities to the king in a manner very similar to that found in this
hymn. To King Nebuchadnezzar, Daniel proclaims: “You, O king, the king

was a prerequisite of a king, and constituted an outward reflection of his “glory” and
“power.” “Wisdom,” though it was not an attribute restricted to the royal class, was
nevertheless particularly associated with it in many Near Eastern (including Israelite) and
Greek and Hellenistic contexts. As such, God’s wisdom is often understood in the Old
Testament to be a reflection of God’s royal status. Finally, a “blessing” represents a
particular gift, favor, or power, transferred from one entity to another. Thus, a “blessing”
refers both to the act by which a particular gift, favor, or power, is transferred, or to the
gift, favor, or power itself. In this second sense, then, “blessings” are outward manifesta-
tions (wealth, possessions, children, etc.) of a particular status or relationship (e.g., an
heir). This is the sense in which I believe it is to be taken in this hymn. That is, to say
that the Lamb is worthy to receive “blessing” is to say that the Lamb is worthy to receive
outward manifestations that reflect his status, analogous to receiving “power,” “glory,”
“honor,” etc. On the royal connotations of these terms, see Brettler, God is King, 53–68.
122
See Brettler, God Is King, 53–55; Leonidas Kalugila, The Wise King: Studies in
Royal Wisdom as Divine Revelation in the Old Testament and Its Environment (Lund:
C. W. K. Gleerup, 1980).
123
“Strength” is an attribute much less frequently applied to human kings, and more
typically reserved for God, but see e.g., the prayer of Hannah, in which the Lord is said
to “give strength to his king” (1 Sam 2:10). Brettler, God is King, 57–68.
124
King Solomon’s riches were said to have been given to him by God (1 Kgs 3:13).
Cf. Ps 112:3; Prov 30:8.
 2.2 Exegetical Analysis of Revelation’s Hymns 51

of kings, to whom the God of heaven has given the rule, the kingdom, the
power, the honor, and the glory …” (Dan [LXX] 2:37). The hymnic ascrip-
tion of divine attributes to the exalted Jesus can be considered in a similar
light: by his investiture, the Lamb receives those divine attributes that re-
flect his status as God’s appointed king.
As in the previous hymn, the claim that the Lamb is a heavenly sover-
eign constitutes an implicit rejection of the claim of the sovereignty of the
Roman emperor. While specific honorifics of the emperor are not appropri-
ated for the exalted Jesus in this hymn as they were for God in the previous
chapter (i.e., “Our Lord and God”), the ultimate claim advanced in the
hymn, that the Lamb rightly deserves the status of heavenly king, effec-
tively challenges any claim of kingship of the emperor. By affirming the
Lamb’s sovereignty, the emperor’s status as sovereign is negated.
At any rate, the attribution of qualities exclusively to the exalted Jesus
and God in Revelation, and the veneration of each in similar terms and by
similar means (i.e., hymnic praise of the heavenly retinue), signals that
they alone are considered to be proper objects of worship. So much is
made explicit in the third antiphonal response, this time sung by “every
creature that is in heaven, and on earth, and under the earth, and in the sea,
and all the things in them” (5:13a):
To the one seated upon the throne, and to the Lamb, be blessing and honor and glory and
strength forever and ever.

In this final antiphonal response, which takes the form of a doxology,125

God and the exalted Jesus are explicitly identified as mutual objects of
praise. While the notion that the exalted Jesus and God are rightly praised
together might be inferred from the fact that God and the Lamb share the
heavenly throne, are considered in similar terms, and venerated in similar
fashion, this hymn leaves no doubt: Jesus’ investiture as heavenly king
results in a status by which he shares the sovereign attributes of God and is
thus praised alongside God. The fact that every imaginable creature shares
in this hymn emphasizes the universality of the truth-claim.
In this way, the final antiphonal strophe can be understood to provide a
theological summary of all that has transpired in the description of the
heavenly throne-room scene to this point. The one seated upon the throne
in chapter 4, and the Lamb in chapter 5, who are independently depicted as

125
The doxology is not a hymnic form per se, but rather a liturgical form presented
here and elsewhere (Rev 4:9; 7:12; 19:1) as a hymn, by virtue of the fact that it represents
an antiphonal response to prior hymns. Jörns, Evangelium, 18. On the formal features of
doxologies, see Leonard G. Champion, Benedictions and Doxologies in the Epistles of
Paul (Oxford: Kemp Hall Press, 1934); James K. Elliott, “The Language and Style of the
Concluding Doxology to the Epistle to the Romans,” ZNW 72 (1981): 124–130; Werner,
“The Doxology in Synagogue and Early Church,” 275–351; Aune, Revelation, 1:43–46.
52 Chapter 2: The Hymns in Revelation

heavenly rulers insofar as they share the heavenly throne, and receive ac-
clamations from the heavenly retinue as divine sovereigns, are confirmed
explicitly in this hymn as co-rulers, sharing in the divine attributes that
denote sovereignty and inspire hymnic praise.126 Likewise, as in the pre-
vious hymns in which the sovereignty of God and the Lamb is extolled, so
too does the hymnic praise of God and the Lamb as heavenly sovereigns
here signal a rejection of any claim that sovereignty lies with the Roman
emperor. That is, by affirming that God is the true heavenly sovereign on
account of the fact that God created the world and all that is in it, and that
the power of God has been transferred to the exalted Jesus, thereby estab-
lishing him as a co-ruler with God on the heavenly throne, this hymn effec-
tively challenges any claim of the sovereignty of the emperor. The very
fact that this hymn is sung by a chorus that includes every imaginable crea-
ture, intensifies the claim. Creation itself testifies to the claims of the sov-
ereignty of God and the Lamb, thereby trumping the claims of any others
who might argue otherwise.
The hymn to the Lamb is concluded by a single remark of the four
Living Creatures:
Amen!

That ἀµήν should stand alone at the end of a series of hymnic antiphonies
makes sense in light of the long-standing tradition in the Old Testament
and in early Judaism and Christianity to conclude doxologies in such a
way. 127 The use of the interjection in this way appears to have been in-
tended to signal approval or acceptance of what has immediately preceded
it.128 In this way, it can be understood to function as a synonym for ναί.129
In sum, the hymns in chapter 5 can be understood to function analog-
ously to those in chapter 4. On the one hand, the series of antiphonal
hymns in chapter 5 concludes the narrative description of the Lamb and his
acquisition of the scroll at the beginning of the chapter. In this way the
hymns serve as a transition between this scene and the opening of the
seven seals that follows in chapter 6. Likewise, as in chapter 4, the hymns

126
Here the adjective “strength” clearly serves as a synonym to “power” and “might,”
which denote the sovereignty of God and of the Lamb in previous hymns.
127
E.g., 1 Chr 16:36; Neh 8:6; cf. Pss 41:13; 72:19; 89:52; 106:48. Its use in liturgical
settings in the Jewish synagogue and early Christian church is reflected in texts used in
synagogue worship, and in early Christian texts (e.g., Rev 1:6; 7:12; 16:7; Rom 1:25; 9:5;
11:36; 16:27; 1 Cor 14:16; Gal 1:5; Eph 3:21; Phil 4:20; 1 Tim 1:17; 6:16; 2 Tim 4:18;
Heb 13:21; 1 Pet 4:11; 5:11; Jude 25; Justin, 1 Apol. 65.3; Did. 10.6; Acts Thom. 29; Acts
Phil. 146; Acts John 94). See Jörns, Evangelium, 85–88; cf. Str-B, 3:456–461.
128
See Schlier, “ἀµήν,” TDNT 1:335–338.
129
See, e.g., Rev 1:7; 22:20; 2 Cor 1:20, where these terms function synonymously
and in close proximity to each other.
 2.2 Exegetical Analysis of Revelation’s Hymns 53

offer explicit theological/Christological reflections, which cast the preced-

ing narrative elements in a particular theological/Christological frame. The
Lamb, who is intimated at the beginning of the chapter to be the crucified
and exalted Jesus, is clearly identified as such in the hymns. Moreover, his
position on the throne and taking of the scroll is revealed to be an investi-
ture, which is a consequence of his death on the cross. As a result of his
heavenly investiture, the hymns make clear that Jesus has attained divine
attributes that signal his status as heavenly king, a status that results in his
being considered an object of praise alongside God.

2.2.4 Rev 7:9–14

Following the throne-room scene in chapters 4 and 5, the seven seals of the
scroll are opened, each of which represent a particular aspect of the judg-
ment of God upon the earth (6:1–17). In-between the opening of the sixth
(6:12–17) and seventh seals (8:1–5), however, are recorded two visions
(7:1–17). The first vision consists of four angels standing at the four cor-
ners of the earth, who are commanded by another angel to pause the de-
struction of the earth until “we have marked the servants of our God with a
seal on their foreheads” (7:1–3), and then a record of those 144,000 who
are said to have been “sealed,” who consist of “every tribe of the people of
Israel” (7:4–8). Immediately following this is another vision in which is
described a “great multitude that no one could count, from every nation,
from all tribes and peoples and languages, standing before the throne and
before the Lamb, robed in white, with palm branches in their hands” (7:9).
In the second of these visions occurs a series of three antiphonal hymns:
the first sung by this Great Multitude (7:10), the second by the angels,
Elders, and Living Creatures (7:11–12), and the third by a single elder
(7:14–17). In order to evaluate the contents of the hymns, it is necessary
first to consider the context in which these hymns are sung, beginning with
the question of the identity of this Great Multitude standing before the
throne.
The surest clue to the identity of the Great Multitude consists of the fact
that they are explicitly identified by one of the 24 Elders as those “who
have come out of the great tribulation” (ἐκ τῆς θλίψεως τῆς µεγάλης)
(7:14). At its root, θλῖψις denotes “distress,” “affliction,” or “trouble,” and
as such, the term carries a range of meanings in the LXX, early Jewish,
and Christian literature, which might be considered on a spectrum that
includes both personal distress of an internal sort, e.g., anxiety or sickness,
to distress that is the result of any number of external forces, e.g., physical
injury, imprisonment, political or military oppression, etc.130 As it appears

130
Schlier, “θλίβω, θλῖψις,” TDNT 3:139–148.
54 Chapter 2: The Hymns in Revelation

in Jewish apocalyptic and early Christian literature, however, the term

often takes on a more specific meaning, denoting the severe distress asso-
ciated with the end of time. So, for instance, in Daniel there is described a
final “day of tribulation” (ἡ ἡµέρα θλίψεως) that will precede the final res-
urrection of the dead into eternal life or punishment. This sense of θλῖψις
as eschatological distress also appears in 1QM 1:11–12; 15:1,131 the “mini-
apocalypse” of Mark 13:19, 24; Matt 24:21, 29, the Shepherd of Hermas,132
and Paul’s letters.133 The fact that a “great tribulation” is depicted in Matt
24:21 and in Hermas, suggests that this particular phrase had become a
fixed expression to denote the period of end-time suffering.134 So, those
depicted before the throne in heaven as having “come out of the great
tribulation” (7:14), appear to denote those who have died during the time
of the eschatological crisis depicted as unfolding throughout Revelation.135
Having established that the Great Multitude consists of those who have
died in the eschatological crisis, questions remain as to the specific identi-
ties of those who have died. It is certain from the text that those who have
died are believed to have attained a place in the heavenly throne-room on
account of the soteriological benefits of Jesus’ crucifixion, insofar as they
are said to have been “washed … in the blood of the Lamb” (7:14). Insofar
as this phrase is widely understood to constitute a metonymic expression
denoting the atoning value of Jesus’ death,136 it is most common to identify
this group as “Christian.”137

131
On the term as it represents eschatological suffering, see Richard Bauckham, The
Climax of Prophecy: Studies in the Book of Revelation (London: T & T Clark, 1993), 226.
132
Herm. Vis. 2.3.4; 4.1.1; 4.2.4; 4.2.5; 4.3.6.
133
There appears to be a wider range of meanings of the term in Paul’s letters. In most
cases, however, suffering appears to be a consequence of the imminent end of the world.
134
Aune, Revelation, 2:474.
135
There is additional evidence that the Great Multitude was imagined to have died as
part of a persecution. So much is suggested by the fact that the Great Multitude is clothed
in white. For example, those who die by sword, flame, captivity, and plunder during the
“time of the end” (Dan 11:35, 40) are said to have been “tested, refined, and made shin-
ing white” (Dan 11:35; cf. 12:10). Likewise, a passage that evokes this Danielic scene in
the War Scroll describes those who have come out of the eschatological war being obli-
gated to “clean their garments and wash themselves of the blood of the guilty corpses”
(1QM 14:2–3). See Bauckham, Climax of Prophecy, 228. At the same time, the fact that
the Great Multitude is holding palm branches (5:9) further suggests that they have died as
part of a persecution, as this imagery is well attested in Christianity. See Prigent, Com-
mentary, 289, esp. n. 3; Jörns, Evangelium, 78.
136
Cf. 1 Cor 10:16; Eph 1:7; 2:13; 1 Pet 1:2, 19; Heb 9:14; 1 John 1:7. See Beasley-
Murray, Book of Revelation, 147; Aune, Revelation, 2: 475.
137
Most understand the group to refer to “Christians” regardless of their Jewish or
Gentile orientation. Boring, Revelation, 129–132; Prigent, Commentary, 121–123; Beas-
ley-Murray, Book of Revelation, 140–147; Aune, Revelation, 2:447. Some go further to
identify this group more specifically as Gentile Christians: Wilhelm Bousset, Die Offen-
 2.2 Exegetical Analysis of Revelation’s Hymns 55

A second question consists of whether this group represents those who

died as martyrs, i.e., those who had been executed by the Romans as part
and parcel of this eschatological conflict, on account of their testimony of
Jesus.138 Some contend that it is not absolutely clear that the Great Multi-
tude consists exclusively of martyrs, citing the fact that those who are
explicitly identified as martyrs in chapter 6 are portrayed “under” the altar,
while the Great Multitude in 7:9–17 is depicted “before the throne.”139
Others, however, infer that the group consists of martyrs on the basis of the
fact that the phrase “great multitude” was used by Tacitus to describe those
(“Christians”) who were executed by Nero,140 and that the author of
1 Clem. 6:1 speaks of unnamed martyrs as “a great multitude of the elect.”
So much might also be inferred from the fact that the Great Multitude is
said to be clothed with white robes, which evoke the white robes of those
seen “under the altar” in Rev 6:9–11, who are explicitly identified as mar-
tyrs.141 Thus, it seems more likely than not that martyrs are indeed imagined
to be singing this hymn.
Having now considered the identities of those who sing the first hymn
in chapter 7, it remains to consider its content:
Salvation belongs to our God who is seated on the throne, and to the Lamb.

The term “salvation” (σωτηρία) is widely attested in Greek antiquity. While

the term could indicate well-being, i.e., the health of a person, city, citizen-
ry, etc., or the act by which well-being is procured or preserved, it most

barung Johannis (KEK 16; 6 th ed.; Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 1906), 287;
Heinrich Kraft, Die Offenbarung des Johannes (HNT 16a; Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck,
1974), 126. I see little benefit in labeling this group with designations that are not em-
ployed by the author himself (e.g., “The Church,” or “Christians”), especially those that
appear as anachronistic at the time of the composition of Revelation. It is more important
simply to recognize that the Great Multitude consists of those who are thought to have
been granted heavenly benefits upon death on account of Jesus’ atoning death on the
cross.
138
See, e.g., Johannes Weiss, Die Offenbarung des Johannes (FRLANT 3; Göttingen:
Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 1904), 66–67; Bousset, Offenbarung, 288; Bauckham, Climax
of Prophecy, 210–237; Boring, Revelation, 131; Caird, Revelation, 95; Wilfrid J.
Harrington, Apocalypse of St. John (London: G. Chapman, 1969), 131.
139
E.g., Jörns, Evangelium, 78; Beasley-Murray, Book of Revelation, 145; Massyng-
baerde Ford, “Christological Function of the Hymns,” 220.
140
multitudo ingens (Tacitus, Ann. 15.44).
141
That is, with the opening of the fifth seal there is depicted a vision of those “who
had been slaughtered on account of the word of God and the testimony they held” (6:9),
who are later given white robes and told to wait “until the number would be complete
both of their fellow slaves and of their brothers who were soon to be killed as they them-
selves had been killed” (6:11). Thus, the white robes of the Great Multitude in Rev 7:9–
17 may signal that they, too, are martyrs who have likewise been killed for their testi-
mony. See, e.g., Aune, Revelation, 2:406; Prigent, Commentary, 273.
56 Chapter 2: The Hymns in Revelation

often constituted the act by which an entity (a person, ship, city, army,
etc.) was rescued from a perilous situation, such as a battle, shipwreck,
illness, guilty verdict, etc.142 Such is the sense of the term and its cognates
as they appear most frequently in the LXX. In Christian literature, the use
of the term to denote the preservation of health or well-being is altogether
abandoned, and salvation only ever denotes rescue or deliverance from a
dire situation.143
Important for the purpose of interpreting this hymn is the fact that salva-
tion often in the LXX and early Christian literature denotes the deliverance
of a person or persons from eschatological conflict. That is, in the context
of a perilous situation represented as the eschatological end-time, salvation
often denotes preservation or rescue from eschatological destruction. In the
LXX, for example, salvation may consist of the preservation of a commun-
ity, or individuals within a particular community, imagined to be taking
part in an eschatological conflict, such as those exiled in Babylon (e.g., Isa
43:1–3; 45:17; 49:8ff.; 60:16; 63:9; Jer 23:6; 31:7; 46:27), or those who
have returned to Jerusalem after the exile (e.g., Zech 9:9; 12:7). Likewise,
alongside more general uses of the term and its derivatives in the New
Testament, salvation often denotes eschatological deliverance. In Paul’s
letters, for instance, the salvation of an individual or a community can re-
fer to an individual or community being spared from future, eschatological
judgment (e.g., 1 Cor 3:15; 5:5; Rom 10:9, 13; 11:11, 26). This is often the
sense of the term as it appears in Acts, Hebrews, 1 Peter, James, and Jude.
Not infrequently, an agent was responsible for bringing about salvation
(a favorable wind, an effective medicine or a good doctor, wise council, a
strong ship, a beneficent king, etc.) Naturally, gods were often considered
to have been such agents, and this is very frequently the case in the LXX,
where Yahweh is often presented as the agent of salvation in a time of
distress, and in early Christian literature, where salvation is imparted upon
a person or persons by God, or by Jesus.
At one level, then, this hymn can be understood to constitute a claim
that the current situation of the Great Multitude constitutes salvation. In
other words, the hymnic acclamation that “salvation belongs to our God …
and to the Lamb” is none other than a claim that the Great Multitude has
been granted salvation by God and the Lamb. Such a reading is justified
when the hymn is viewed in light of similar constructions in antecedent
Jewish literature. For example, the Psalmist declares the possibility of
“deliverance” from the threat of “tens of thousands who surround” him
because “salvation belongs to the Lord” (Ps [LXX] 3:7, 9). Likewise, the

142
In this light, salvation can also refer to the act by which one of these disasters is
avoided. Foerster, “σῴζω,” TDNT 7:966–969.
143
Foerster, TDNT 7:989–998.
 2.2 Exegetical Analysis of Revelation’s Hymns 57

acclamations in the Psalms of Solomon (LXX) demonstrate that, in spite of

external threats, the “salvation of the Lord is upon [the house of] Israel”
(Pss. Sol. 10:8; 12:6).144 Thus, the hymnic claim in Rev 7:10 that “salvation
belongs to God and to the Lamb” can be taken to imply that the community
singing it has likewise been granted salvation or deliverance by God from
a similarly perilous situation. An appreciation of the precise identity of the
Great Multitude puts this claim of salvation in a particular perspective: just
as God had the power to rescue the Psalmist and the House of Israel, so too
will God have the power ultimately to rescue those who have died in this
eschatological conflict.
Of course, in this hymn it is clear that salvation is not only the preroga-
tive of God but also of the Lamb. The precise mechanism by which salva-
tion has been granted to the Great Multitude is not made explicit in this
hymn, though it might be inferred from the hymn in chapter 5 where the
blood of the Lamb is said to have purchased saints for God. That is, Jesus’
death constituted a payment by which saints were “purchased for God,”
with the result that they were redeemed from the death(s) they suffered
during the great tribulation, to a place amongst the heavenly retinue.
Whereas the claim that Jesus’ blood had purchased saints for God was
shown in the previous hymn to connote an improved status on the part of
those who have been purchased (a “kingdom” and “priests”), the context of
the hymn in chapter 7 describes precisely the status attained by those who
have died: a very high status as part of the Great Multitude that stands
amongst the heavenly retinue before the heavenly throne of God and the
Lamb.145
The short hymn of the Great Multitude is immediately followed by a
depiction of the four Living Creatures, 24 Elders, and multitude of angels
before the throne, who are said to have “fallen on their faces before the
throne and worshipping God,” singing:
Amen! Blessing and glory and wisdom and thanksgiving and honor and power and might
be to our God forever and ever. Amen!

144
The Greek construction in these examples in the LXX (τοῦ κυρίου ἡ σωτηρία),
while different than the dative construction in Rev 7:10, likewise connotes that salvation
belongs to God. For an explanation, see Jörns, Evangelium, 82.
145
Prigent has gone further to suggest that the Great Multitude are portrayed as
priests insofar as they are clothed in white, and have unmediated access to God in God’s
sanctuary. In this way, the hymnic claim in Rev 5:9 that those who have been purchased
for God will be made a “kingdom and priests” is here being fulfilled. Prigent, Commen-
tary, 289.
58 Chapter 2: The Hymns in Revelation

The antiphonal response begins with “amen,” which is used here as a for-
mal indicator of the beginning of the response to the previous hymn.146 The
rest of the antistrophe consists essentially of a doxology in which seven
prerogatives are attributed to God, evoking doxologies directed towards
God elsewhere in the text.147 The similarities in content between these
hymnic forms betray their similar function. That is, just as the ascription of
such prerogatives to God and to the Lamb in the previous hymns denoted
the sovereignty of God and of the Lamb so, too, does the doxology here
function to denote God’s sovereignty.
Unlike the previous hymns, however, the justification for this claim is
not made explicit. Nevertheless, justification for the claim can be inferred
from the preceding context in which the hymn is sung: God is ultimately
responsible for the salvation of those from “every nation, tribe, people, and
language.” Salvation, which in this context constitutes deliverance from
the eschatological conflict to the presence of God before the throne, is a
benefit conferred by God as a result of the transaction by which they have
been purchased by the blood of the Lamb. Thus, God’s sovereignty is
affirmed here on account of God’s role in the salvation of the Great Multi-
tude.
The antistrophe concludes with a second “amen,” which constitutes the
formal ending of the doxology (cf. Rev 1:6; 5:8; 16:7) and re-affirms the
contents of the doxology itself.148
In summary, the functions of the antiphonal hymns in chapter 7 can be
considered in light of the functions of the preceding hymns in chapters 4
and 5. While each of the series of antiphonal hymns in chapters 4 and 5
appears at the end of a narrative sequence, so as to delineate one scene
from another, the antiphonal hymns in chapter 7 appear in the middle of
the scene, immediately after the initial description of the vision of the
Great Multitude (7:9), and prior to the song of the elder that completes the
chapter (7:13–17). Thus, the hymns of the Great Multitude in 7:10, as well
as those of the angels, Elders, and Living Creatures in 7:12, differ from
preceding hymns insofar as they do not demarcate large narrative scenes

146
The use of “Amen” in this way can be traced to Jewish liturgical practices. See
Jörns, Evangelium, 85–88; Deichgräber, Gotteshymnus und Christushymnus, 45. Schlier,
TDNT 1:337.
147
Several of the attributes appear in this and in each of the previous hymns: “power,”
“might,” “honor,” and “glory.” The attributes in this hymn are nearly identical to those
ascribed to the Lamb in the axios-hymn of 5:12, with “thanksgiving” (εὐχαριστία) re-
placing “wealth.”
148
In this way, the second “Amen” can be likened to the conclusions of similar doxol-
ogies in the New Testament and early Christian literature that signal approval and affirm-
ation of what has preceded it. See Jörns, Evangelium, 85–86.
 2.2 Exegetical Analysis of Revelation’s Hymns 59

from another. However, the hymn might be considered to demarcate par-

ticular elements within the scene from one another.
The hymns in chapter 7 do resemble previous hymns, however, insofar
as they provide explicit theological reflections on the surrounding narrative
sequences. The first hymn provides a theological context for interpreting
the vision of the Great Multitude: the multitude has been granted salvation
by God and the Lamb, which denotes the act by which God has rescued
those who had died in the “great tribulation.” This act, which we were
previously told occurred when they were purchased for God (i.e., became
God’s possession) by Jesus’ death on the cross (5:9), has culminated in the
Great Multitude being rewarded with a heavenly status before the throne of
God and the Lamb. The antiphonal response reaffirms the sovereignty of
God, which seems to be implicitly justified on the basis of God’s role in
their salvation. In this way, the hymns function ultimately to cast the vision
of the Great Multitude in a particular theological and Christological light.

2.2.5 Rev 11:15–19

The vision of the Great Multitude is immediately followed by the opening
of the seventh and final seal, which results in “silence in heaven” for half
an hour (8:1), and a vision in which angels are depicted worshipping in the
heavenly throne-room (8:2–5). This vision inaugurates a sequence in which
seven trumpets are sounded by seven angels, corresponding to which are
various descriptions of destruction upon the earth (8:7–9:21). The blowing
of the seven trumpets, and the corresponding destruction that ensues,
clearly evokes the unleashing of destruction that was inaugurated by the
opening of the seven seals in chapter 6, and is most often thought to repre-
sent a re-telling or “recapitulation” of the judgments of God represented
therein.149 More precisely, the destruction associated with the sounding of
the seven trumpets (and later with the pouring of the seven “bowls of
wrath”) is thought to represent in different terms the eschatological judg-
ments of God which was symbolized in the opening of each of the seven
seals.150

149
See, e.g., Charles H. Giblin, “Recapitulation and the Literary Coherence of John’s
Apocalypse,” CBQ 56 (1994): 81–95. Fewer scholars argue that the destruction associ-
ated with each of the sequences of seven (seals, trumpets, bowls) represents progressive
stages of the judgment of God. For a summary of this theory, see Marko Jauhiainen,
“Recapitulation and Chronological Progression in John’s Apocalypse: Towards a New
Perspective,” NTS 43 (1993): 543–559; cf. Court, Myth and History; Austin M. Farrer,
The Revelation of St. John the Divine (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1964).
150
The destruction ushered by the sounding of the trumpets is often considered to
represent more severe tribulation than that associated with the opening of the seals. See
Boring, Revelation, 137; Jauhiainen, “Recapitulation,” 544; Giblin, “Recapitulation,” 82.
60 Chapter 2: The Hymns in Revelation

As in the vision of the opening of the seven seals, the vision of the trum-
pets sounding is interrupted by two scenes in-between the sixth and the
seventh trumpet: the eating of the “little scroll” (10:1–11) and the measuring
of the Temple/prophecy of the Two Witnesses (11:1–14). Whereas the
previous pair of antiphonal hymns occurred prior to the opening of the
seventh seal, as part of the second of the two interposing scenes, here the
hymns are deferred until after the blowing of the seventh trumpet (11:15).
The first hymn is sung by “loud voices in heaven”:151
The kingdom of the world has become the kingdom of our Lord and of His Messiah, and
He will reign forever and ever.

Although the “kingdom of the world” (ἡ βασιλεία τοῦ κόσµου) is not a

phrase used elsewhere in Revelation, its meaning can be inferred from the
sense of the phrase as it appears in the only other instance in the New
Testament, in Matt 4:8. There the phrase refers to the lands visible from
the mountain, offered to Jesus by Satan, and thus denotes entities that are
imagined to be under the control of Satan. By this very fact, the kingdoms
of the world are thus presented in opposition to God. This notion is
confirmed by the fact that Jesus refuses the offer, and then implies that
receiving the kingdoms of the world would contradict the command to
“worship the Lord your God, and serve only him” (Matt 4:10).
Thus, while the phrase as it appears in Revelation is taken by some to
denote the earthly realm of humankind as opposed to the heavenly king-
dom of God and the Lamb,152 it appears to denote in Revelation more
specifically those entities that stand outside of, and in opposition to, God
and the Lamb, and the followers thereof. These include both earthly enti-
ties,153 as well as those mythic creatures that support and represent these
earthly forces.154 As in Matt 4:8, these earthly and mythic entities are

151
These “loud voices” might represent the voices of one of the heavenly groups in
particular, or all of those occupying the throne-room. Ernst Lohmeyer, Die Offenbarung
des Johannes (HNT 16; 2nd ed.; Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 1953), 95; Swete, The Apoca-
lypse of St. John, 141; Charles, Revelation of St. John, 1: 293–294.
152
Jörns, Evangelium, 93.
153
(1) The “inhabitants of the earth” who have slaughtered those proclaiming the
word of God (6:9–11), who gloat over the death of the Two Witnesses (11:10), worship
the Beast and bear its mark (13:8, 17; 16:2) and fornicate with the “Great Whore” (17:2);
(2) Those who worship “demons and idols” (9:20–21); (3) The “kings of the earth” who
have fornicated with the “Great Whore” who is “Babylon” (17:2; 18:9), and who make
war on the Lamb (17:14); and (4) The “merchants of the earth” who have become weal-
thy by the Great Whore/Babylon (18:3, 11–19).
154
(1) The “Beast from the Sea” who utters blasphemies against God and makes war
against God’s people (13:6–7); (2) The “Beast from the Land” who deceives the inhabit-
ants of the earth to worship the first Beast and executes those who do not (13:11–18); and
 2.2 Exegetical Analysis of Revelation’s Hymns 61

depicted as under the rule of Satan himself, who is represented as the

“Dragon” (12:3–9), and who wields the power to “lead the whole world
astray” (12:9) and to bestow power to the Beasts (13:2, 4).
Thus, the hymnic claim that this kingdom of the world has become that
of the Lord and of His Messiah is to say that God and the Messiah have
become rulers over it. That is, the Lord, who here refers to God,155 and His
Messiah, who refers to the exalted Jesus,156 are now said to have assumed
authority over this “kingdom of the world.” Implicit in such a claim is that
the former rulers of this kingdom, the antagonists of God and Jesus – both
earthly and mythic – have been deposed. The process by which this occurs,
though it is not made explicit in this hymn, is precisely what is represented
in the vision sequences that occur immediately prior to the hymn. That is,
the destruction unleashed upon the earth, as variously represented by the
opening of the seals (6:1–17), the trumpets (8:6–9:21), and the destruction
of 1/10 of the city and the deaths of 7,000 in it by earthquake (11:13),
constitute acts by which God and the Lamb are assuming authority over
the kingdom of the world.157
So much is revealed in the descriptions of the destruction. For example,
the slaughter, famine, pestilence, earthquakes that correspond to the open-
ing of the seals in chapter 6 are such that the “kings of the earth and the
magnates and the generals and the rich and the powerful, and everyone,
slave and free, hid in the caves and among the rocks of the mountains,
calling to them: ‘Fall on us and hide us from the one seated on the throne
and from the wrath of the Lamb; for the great day of their wrath has come,
and who is able to stand?’” (6:15–16). Clearly, the destruction unleashed
upon the earth is directed at those who are presented throughout the text in
opposition to God and the Lamb,158 while those who have been sealed by
God (the 144,000 depicted in 7:1–8) and purchased for God (the Great
Multitude in 7:9–17), are preserved. Likewise, the destruction associated
with the sounding of the trumpets (8:6–9:21) appears to be directed at

(3) The Great Whore/Babylon who is “drunk with the blood of the saints and the blood of
the witnesses to Jesus” (17:6).
155
In the vast majority of instances in Revelation, the term refers to God (1:8; 4:8, 11;
11:4, 17; 15:3, 4; 16:7; 18:8; 19:6, 16; 21:22; 22:5, 6). Elsewhere it refers to Jesus (11:8;
17:14; 22:20, 21), and is used once to refer to one of the Elders (7:14).
156
Throughout Revelation the exalted Jesus is referred to as the Messiah (χριστός)
(Rev 1:1, 2, 5; 22:21). In no instance is the term used to denote any other entity, such that
in those instances where the identity of the Messiah is not made explicit, the term can be
understood to refer to (the exalted) Jesus.
157
So, too, Beasley-Murray, Book of Revelation, 188–189; Boring, Revelation, 148;
Roloff, Revelation, 136ff.; Prigent, Commentary, 360ff.
158
Albeit these “kings, generals, etc.” and those who benefit from their position with-
in Babylon (i.e., the “rich and powerful”) are not so clearly identified as enemies of God
and the Lamb until later in the text.
62 Chapter 2: The Hymns in Revelation

those enemies of God who “do not have the seal of God on their fore-
heads” (9:4), while those who are killed in the earthquake after the death
and resurrection of the Two Witnesses are part of those who are explicitly
identified as the “enemies” of the Witnesses (11:12).
Thus, the hymn in 11:15 makes clear what might be inferred from the
preceding (and following) visions: the destruction unleashed upon God and
the Lamb constitutes a war upon those forces that oppose them, a war by
which the enemies of God are defeated, and through which their kingdom
comes under the rule of God and the Lamb.
Further consideration of the symbols and imagery used in Revelation to
depict this kingdom reveals something more specific about its identity: the
kingdom of the world is none other than the actual earthly kingdom in
which the author and audience of Revelation is living, the Roman Empire.
The notion that those earthly and mythical entities depicted in opposition
to God and the Lamb represent various aspects of the Roman Imperial
apparatus constitutes one of the few, virtually unchallenged maxims in
Revelation scholarship. The mythical enemies are almost unanimously
thought to represent various aspects of the Roman rule, while the earthly
enemies are thought to represent those who participate in, or benefit from,
Roman Imperial social, economic, and political systems. For example, the
Beast from the Sea (13:1–8) is thought to represent Roman Imperial power
both insofar as descriptions of the Beast appear to be lightly veiled symbols
of Imperial authority159 and insofar as the descriptions of its power appear
to reflect Imperial rule,160 while the Beast from the Land is thought to
represent specific elements of Imperial rule in the province of Asia Minor,

159
For example, the seven crowned heads are thought to represent both the seven hills
upon which the city of Rome was built, as well as various Roman emperors, a symbolic
interpretation confirmed later by one of the seven angels (Rev 17:9–10). Moreover, the
fact that the Beast is said to be “rising from the sea” is thought to denote the fact that the
emperor and his retinue would have traveled from Rome to Asia Minor “by sea,” while
the description of one of the heads (i.e., emperors) having a mortal wound that was
healed is thought to reflect a legend that the Emperor Nero had not actually died but was
living in the East. On the “Nero redivivus” legend, see Edward Champlin, Nero (Cam-
bridge: Belknap Press of Harvard University, 2005), 9–25. Cf. Greg Carey, “The Book of
Revelation as Counter-Imperial Script,” in In the Shadow of Empire (ed. Richard Hors-
ley; London: Westminster Press, 2008), 157–176; Steve Friesen, “Myth and Symbolic
Resistance in Revelation 13,” JBL 123/2 (2004): 281–313; Bauckham, Climax of Prophecy,
384–452; Adela Yarbro Collins, “The Political Perspective of the Revelation to John,”
JBL 96 (1977): 241–256.
160
“… and it [the Beast] was given authority over every tribe and people and lan-
guage and nation, and all the inhabitants of the earth will worship it …” (Rev 13:7–8).
 2.2 Exegetical Analysis of Revelation’s Hymns 63

e.g., the Imperial administration in the province, the Imperial cultic appar-
atus, or the wealthy elites who supported the official Imperial cult(s).161
This interpretive strategy results in an understanding of the city of
Babylon, as well as the Whore (who is identified as Babylon in 17:5), as a
representation of Rome itself.162 Likewise, the earthly enemies of God and
the Lamb are thought to represent those who take part in or benefit from
the Imperial structures. So much can be inferred from the descriptions of
these “inhabitants of the earth” who worshipped the Beast and bore its
mark (13:8, 17; 16:2) and fornicated with the “Great Whore” (17:2), the
“kings of the earth” who not only fornicated with the “Whore” (17:2; 18:9)
but made war on the Lamb (17:14), and the “merchants” and “sailors” who
grew rich from it (18:3–19).
The notion that the kingdom of the world represents elements of the
Roman Imperial apparatus gives further dimension to the claim that this
kingdom has come under the authority of the Lord and His Messiah. It is
precisely the Roman Empire, and all those elements that constitute it, that
is targeted by the wrath of God and the Lamb, and eventually subsumed by
it. This vision of the destruction of God’s earthly adversaries and subse-
quent reign over the earth is thus linked with antecedent Jewish traditions
in which God is likened to a king who destroys his enemies and establishes
a kingdom.163
While the precise nature of the new kingdom is not fully revealed until
the end of the Apocalypse in the vision of the “New Heaven and New
Earth” descending from heaven (Rev 19:1ff.), it is clear from elsewhere in
the text that this new kingdom is unlike earthly kingdoms insofar as it, like
the eternal God who rules over it (4:8), will exist forever. This is made
clear in the final clause of the hymn that God and His Messiah “will reign

161
Steven Friesen, “The Beast from the Land: Rev 13:11–18 and Social Setting,” in
Reading the Book of Revelation (ed. David L. Barr; Leiden: Brill, 2004), 49–64; Steven J.
Scherrer, “Revelation 13 as an Historical Source for the Imperial Cult under Domitian”
(Th.D. diss., Harvard University, 1979); Schüssler-Fiorenza, Vision of a Just World, 86;
Aune, Revelation, 2:780; Murphy, Fallen is Babylon, 309–311.
162
The identification of Babylon as Rome is based on a number of clues, chief among
them the fact that Babylon was a popular cipher for Rome around the time of the com-
position of Revelation. See, e.g., 1 Pet 5:13; 2 Bar. 11:1ff.; 67:7; Sib. Or. 5.143, 159; cf.
Tertullian, Marc. 3.13; Eusebius, Hist. eccl. 2.15.2. Bauckham, Climax of Prophecy, 338–
383; Susan M. Elliott, “Who is Addressed in Revelation 18:6–7?,” BR 40 (1995): 98–113;
Kenneth A. Strand, “Some Modalities of Symbolic Usage in Revelation 18,” AUSS 24
(1986): 37–46; Adela Yarbro Collins, “Revelation 18: Taunt-Song or Dirge?,” in L’Apo-
calypse johannique et l’apocalyptique dans le Nouveau Testament (ed. Jan Lambrecht;
Gembloux: Leuven University Press, 1980), 185–202.
163
Exod 15:1–18; 1 Sam 12:12; Pss 145:11; 146:10; Isa 24:21–23; 33:22; Mic 4:6–8;
Zeph 3:15; Obad 8ff.; Pss. Sol. 17:2; Sib. Or. 3.46ff.; 3:767. Jörns, Evangelium, 93–94.
64 Chapter 2: The Hymns in Revelation

forever and ever.”164 The notion that God and/or His Messiah would rule
forever has a long history in the Hebrew Bible and also appears elsewhere
in early Christian literature.165
Finally, it should be noted that the visions that follow this hymn demon-
strate that the war between God and the Lamb and their enemies is not
concluded at the point that this hymn is sung, and as such the assumption
of God and the Lamb to power over the kingdom of the world is not yet
complete. So much is conveyed by the aorist tense of the verb ἐγένετο,
which here seems to carry an ingressive sense. In other words, the hymnic
claim that the kingdom of the world has become the kingdom of God and
of God’s Messiah is a claim that this has begun to happen. In this way, the
hymn points forward to the eschatological future in which the earthly
kingdom has come fully under the authority of God and the exalted Jesus.
Such a future is fully manifest in Rev 19:1ff., but has at this point just
begun to take place.
This hymn is immediately followed by an antiphonal response of the 24
Elders, who are depicted prostrate before the throne and worshipping God:166
We give you thanks, Lord God Almighty, who are and who were, for you have taken your
great power and begun to reign. The nations raged, but your wrath has come, and the time
for judging the dead, for rewarding your servants, the prophets and saints and all who
fear your name, both small and great, and for destroying those who destroy the earth.

The introduction εὐχαριστοῦµέν σοι indicates that the hymn constitutes a

thanksgiving to God, a form well-attested in early Jewish and Christian
literature.167 The form typically consisted of a first-person (singular or
plural) formula of thanks to God, who is addressed in either the second or

164
The singular verb suggests that either the “Lord” or “His Messiah” is the subject.
In the other two appearances of the verb in Revelation (11:17; 19:6), the subject of the
verb is God. At any rate, it is clear from the previous depictions of God and the Lamb as
co-rulers that each is thought to participate in this eternal reign.
165
E.g., similar phrases occur throughout the Septuagint to denote the eternal sover-
eignty of God (Exod 15:18; Zech 14:9; Dan 2:44; 4:3, 34; 6:26; 7:14, 27; Pss 9:37;
145:10; 146:10; Wis 3:8; Lam 5:19; Ezek 43:7; Mic 4:7. Cf. Jos. Asen. 19:5, 8). The
House of David was similarly imagined to rule “forever” (e.g., 2 Sam 7:13–16; 22:51;
1 Kgs 2:45; 1 Chr 22:10; 28:4; etc.). It is in this tradition that early Christian authors
proclaim that Jesus the Messiah would reign “forever and ever” (Luke 1:33; Heb 1:8).
See Aune, Revelation, 2:639–640.
166
As in chapters 4 and 7, the depiction of the 24 Elders worshipping occurs here in-
between the antiphonal hymns, and serves as a structural link between them. Jörns,
Evangelium, 98.
167
Early Jewish literature: Jdt 8:25; 2 Macc 1:11; T. Abr. 15:4; 1QH 2:20, 31; 3:19,
37; 4:5; 5:5; 7:6, 26, 34; 9:37; 14:8; 17:7; Josephus, Ant. 1.193. Several of Paul’s letters
include a prayer of thanksgiving: Rom 1:8–17; 1 Cor 1:4–9; Phil 1:3–11; 1 Thess 1:2;
Phlm 4. Cf. other New Testament and early Christian texts: Col 1:3–8; Luke 18:11; John
11:41; Did. 9:3; 10:2–5; Ign. Smyrn. 10:1; Apost. Const. 7.26.2; 7.38.4.
 2.2 Exegetical Analysis of Revelation’s Hymns 65

third person,168 and followed by a ὅτι clause that lists the acts of God that
serve as the basis for thanksgiving.169 In this case, God is addressed in the
second person, with a variation of the title used in 4:8 (“who is and who
was”), while the basis for thanksgiving is the claim that God has “taken
[God’s] great power and begun to reign.” Insofar as the eternal reign of
God and the Lamb was equated in the previous hymn with their having
assumed sovereign rule over the kingdom of the world, this antiphonal
response constitutes a hymn of thanksgiving for this act.
The titles applied to God in the beginning of the hymn reflect God’s
sovereignty, as well as the fact that God’s reign has already begun. On one
hand, the epithet “Lord God Almighty” (παντοκράτωρ), as it is found here
and throughout Revelation,170 denotes God’s status as ruler of all. On the
other hand, the epithet “the one who is and who was” (ὁ ὢν καὶ ὁ ἦν),
while evoking the title given to God in the hymn in 4:8 (“the one who was
and is and is to come” (ὁ ἦν καὶ ὁ ὢν καὶ ὁ ἐρχόµενος), is modified to
reflect the fact that God is no longer one who is simply coming, but one
whose kingdom has already come, as evidenced by the destruction that has
subsequently taken place.171
The ὅτι clause that follows the introductory thanksgiving formula clari-
fies the grounds for thanksgiving: “… you have taken your great power
and begun to reign.” The construction evokes various investiture scenes in
the Hebrew Bible, in which either a king is enthroned by God’s authority,
or in which God is declared king. Notable are those instances in the LXX
in which the aorist form of βασιλεύω is employed to denote the enthrone-
ment of an earthly king (e.g., 2 Sam 5:10; 2 Kgs 9:6, 13), or of God (Ps
46:9; 47:8; 92:1; 95:10; 96:1; 98:1). In such instances, the aorist verb
indicates that the king, or God, has assumed sovereign authority – has
become king.172 Likewise, the aorist form of the verb in this clause (ἐβασί-
λευσας) denotes the investiture of God as king over the kingdom of the
world. In this light, the corresponding aorist participial phrase “you have
taken your great power,” which does not have clear parallels in antecedent
Jewish traditions, likewise apparently denotes the assumption of God’s
reign. In other words, God has received great power, as in an investiture,
and has consequently begun to reign.173

168
I.e., corresponding to the Er-Stil or Du-Stil.
169
See Jörns, Evangelium, 98–101; Deichgräber, Gotteshymnus und Christushymnus,
54; Aune, Revelation, 2:640–642.
170
This was the first epithet given to God in the hymn in 4:8, and a title applied to
God in 15:3; 16:7; 19:6; 21:22.
171
Jörns, Evangelium, 99–100.
172
The so-called ingressive aorist.
173
Such a construction sheds light on the problematic claim in the prior hymn that the
kingdom of the world has become that of the Lord and of His Messiah. That is, while it is
66 Chapter 2: The Hymns in Revelation

The rest of the hymn is best characterized as an excursus on the process

by which God has begun to reign. In other words, it constitutes a summary
of the story of God’s assumption of power over the kingdom of this world,
including both the circumstances that led God to intervene in the world in
the first place (i.e., the “raging of the nations”), as well as the consequences
of God’s intervention: (1) the coming of the wrath of God; (2) the judg-
ment of the dead; (3) rewarding the servants, prophets, saints, and all those
who fear God’s name, both great and small; and (4) destruction of those
who destroy the earth.
The initial claim that the “nations have raged” can be understood as a
characterization of the activities of the adversaries of God that are various-
ly described throughout Revelation.174 On one hand, the characterization
here of the adversaries of God as “nations” (ἔθνη), is consistent with the
characterization of God’s adversaries as “nations” elsewhere in the text.175
At the same time, the notion that the “rage” of the nations refers to the
actions of God’s adversaries is further substantiated by the fact that the
concept of an “enraged nation” regularly appears in apocalyptic literature
to characterize God’s adversaries in eschatological conflict. So, for in-
stance, Psalm 2 describes the eschatological tumult of the “nations” against

clear from the remaining narrative descriptions of battles between worldly enemies of
God and God’s agents that the kingdom of the world has not yet fully come under the
authority of God and the Lamb, this hymn clarifies that the rule of God (and the Lamb)
has just begun.
174
E.g., throwing those of the church of Smyrna into prison (2:10), the murder of the
“witnesses” (2:13; 11:3–10), bearing false witness (false apostles [2:2], “those who say
they are Jews but are not” [2:9; 3:9], and false prophecy [2:14–16, 20–23]), the slaughter
of the faithful (6:9–11; 13:7), worship of idols (9:20), worship of the Beast (13:3–4, 8,
12), blasphemy against God (13:5–7), and assembling to wage war on God and God’s
people (13:7; 16:14; 17:14; 19:19; 20:9).
175
Although the term sometimes denotes a group of people that would seem to
include those that are considered to be “allies” of God (2:26; 5:9; 7:9; 12:5; 13:7; 14:6, 8;
15:3–4; 21:24, 26; 22:2), it often denotes a more limited group characterizing only God’s
adversaries (i.e., those who trample the Temple and kill the Two Witnesses [11:2, 9],
those associated with Babylon [16:19; 17:15; 18:3, 23], those who are deceived by the
Devil [20:3, 8], and those who are struck down by the rider on the white horse [19:15]).
The ambivalence of the term is apparent in its use in other biblical texts. For instance,
while it sometimes refers in the LXX to “people” generally, the term ἔθνος often denotes
those (Gentiles) who stand outside of the covenant with God. This is especially clear
when ἔθνος is used to translate the Hebrew goy(im), in juxtaposition to the Hebrew yam,
for which the Greek λαός is preferred. So, too, in the New Testament, ἔθνη can denote:
(1) people generally (e.g., all the nations [Matt 24:9, 14; 25:32; 28:19; Mark 11:17;
13:10; Luke 21:24; 24:47; Gal 3:8; Rev 15:11], of which Israel is apparently a part);
(2) Israel in particular (Luke 7:5; 23:2; John 11:48–52; 18:35; Acts 10:22; 24:2, 10, 17;
26:4; 28:19; 1 Pet 2:9); or (3) a group of people in contrast with Jews (this is most often
its use in the New Testament) or Christians. See Bertram and K. Schmidt, “ἔθνος,” TDNT
2:364–371.
 2.2 Exegetical Analysis of Revelation’s Hymns 67

God (2:1–3), which results in God’s “wrath” ultimately destroying them

(2:4–11). In 4 Ezra 13, cities, peoples, and kingdoms are said to war
against each other, and to assemble against the servant of God (13:30–34),
which leads to God’s servant “reproving,” “reproaching,” and ultimately
“destroying” the nations (13:35–39). Likewise, in Jubilees 23, the nations
are said to instigate tribulation against the Israelites (23:23–25), which
prompts God to execute judgment upon them (23:26–31).176 Thus, the
claim that the nations are enraged in this hymn likewise denotes the actions
of God’s adversaries, and situates them within an apocalyptic framework
in which they can be understood as part and parcel of an eschatological
conflict with God.
While the first clause gives the cause for God’s intervention in this
world, the remaining part of the hymn consists of a summary of God’s
response, including: (1) the coming of the “wrath of God”; and (2) the
judgment of the dead. The “wrath of God” refers to the destruction God
unleashes upon God’s adversaries in response to their anger (as depicted,
for example, in the opening of the seals, the sounding of the trumpets,
destruction of Babylon, etc.). So much can be inferred from the use of the
phrase elsewhere in Revelation as a metonym for the destruction of God’s
adversaries. For instance, those who are “tormented with fire and sulfur”
for worshipping the Beast are said to “drink the wine of God’s wrath”
(14:10, 19; cf. 19:15). So, too, in 15:1–16:21, the destruction caused by the
pouring out of the seven bowls – characterized as “bowls of the wrath of
God” (15:7; 16:1) – is said to constitute the “end of the wrath of God”
(15:1). Thus, the hymnic claim here that the wrath of God has come con-
veys the belief that God has responded to the rage of the nations.
This notion seems to be drawing upon traditions in the Old Testament
and early Jewish and Christian literature in which the wrath of God con-
stitutes punishment for those who have disobeyed or angered God. While
the wrath of God is not always imagined to have been a logical conse-
quence of a specific misdeed, appearing at times in the Old Testament
rather unpredictably and inexplicably, 177 most often it appears as a conse-
quence for those who have in some way angered, disobeyed, and/or
rebelled against God.178 This is also the sense of the term as it is used most
often in the New Testament.179 The object of God’s wrath could consist of
a group of people, as for example God’s chosen people in the wilder-

176
Cf. Pss 46:6; 65:7; 1 En. 55:5–6; 99:4; Sib. Or. 3.660–668.
177
The case of Job is an oft-cited example of the unpredictable and inexplicable
nature of God’s wrath. Other notable instances include 2 Sam 24:1 and Psalm 88.
178
The actions which prompt the “wrath of God” are summarized in Fichtner, “ὀργή,”
TDNT 5:401–404, 441–443.
179
E.g., Rom 1:18ff.; 2:5ff.; Matt 3:7; Luke 3:18; Jn. 3:36. Cf. Luke 21:23.
68 Chapter 2: The Hymns in Revelation

ness,180 those remaining in Jerusalem in the Last Days,181 or particular

individuals, as in the case of Job,182 the Psalmist,183 the one who disobeys
the Son,184 or the one who is wicked, evil, covetous, etc.185
Such a tradition, in which God’s destruction (“wrath”) is considered a
fitting and expected consequence for those who have perpetrated evils
against God, makes sense of the characterization in this hymn of the
destruction of God’s enemies in Revelation as the coming of the wrath of
God. That is, the coming wrath of God in Revelation (i.e., the opening of
the seals, the sounding of the trumpets, the destruction of Babylon, etc.) is
likewise considered a fitting and expected consequence for those who are
portrayed as having perpetrated evils against God, the Lamb, and the
followers thereof.186
While the coming wrath of God refers to the destruction unleashed
against God’s enemies upon the earth, the second clause confirms that the
punishment of God’s earthly enemies constitutes only one element of
God’s eschatological reign, for alongside the coming of the wrath of God
is the “time for the dead to be judged.” As elsewhere in Revelation, con-
sideration is given to the eschatological consequences both of those who
are upon the earth, and those who have died.187 At the same time, the hymn
presages the specific eschatological act of the judgment of the dead, which
occurs in Rev 20:11–15.
What immediately follows is a description of the nature of this judg-
ment, namely, “rewarding the servants, prophets, saints, and all who fear
[God’s] name, both small and great,” as well as “destroying those who
destroy the earth.” The exact nature of this rewarding and destroying, as
well as the precise identities of those who receive each of these judgments,
can be determined from descriptions elsewhere in Revelation of the judg-
ment of the dead. In Rev 20:11–15 and 22:12, for example, it is revealed

180
Num 11:1; 13:25–14:38; 17:6–15; Exodus 32; Deut 1:34–36.
181
Luke 21:23.
182
Job 16:9; 19:11.
183
E.g., Psalm 88.
184
John 3:36.
185
Rom 1:18ff.
186
Some scholars have argued that the author of Revelation is here evoking the notion
of the “day of the wrath of God,” which in the Old Testament functioned as a metonym
for the time of the destruction of those who have disobeyed God. For example, Ezekiel
records a vision in which God unleashes destruction upon the inhabitants of the four
corners of the earth (7:1–27). This destruction is characterized as God’s “wrath” and
“punishment” for their abominations, consists of death “by sword,” “pestilence,”
“famine,” and “disaster upon disaster” (7:15), and is said to coincide with the “day of the
wrath of the Lord” (7:19). Cf. Zephaniah 1–2; Lam 2:2. See Aune, Revelation, 2:644.
187
E.g., chapter 7, in which those who are granted salvation on earth (the 144,000)
and in heaven (the Great Multitude) are both accounted for.
 2.2 Exegetical Analysis of Revelation’s Hymns 69

that each person will be judged ultimately “according to their works.”188

From this it can be assumed that in Revelation certain works are thought to
garner an eschatological reward, while other works merit destruction.189
Those works to be judged favorably are not explicitly identified anywhere
in the text, but they appear to include those deeds encouraged throughout
the text (especially those in the letters to the seven churches at the begin-
ning of the apocalypse): “enduring patiently” (2:3), “repenting” (2:5, 16;
3:3, 19), “being faithful until death” (2:10), “holding fast to what you have”
(2:25; 3:11), and “not worshipping or receiving the mark of the Beast”
(20:4). By contrast, those deeds that will lead to ultimate destruction
appear to include both those deeds that are admonished in the seven letters
(e.g., abandoning earlier beliefs and practices [2:5; cf. 3:3], following the
teachings of those who eat food sacrificed to idols and practice fornication
[2:14, 20], living a tepid life [3:15–16]), and those specifically mentioned
elsewhere in the text (e.g., those who worship the Beast [14:9–11], those
whose names were not written in the Book of Life [20:15], and the “cow-
ardly, faithless, polluted, murderers, fornicators, sorcerers, idolaters, and
liars” [21:8; cf. 22:14]). Thus, the hymn further foreshadows the eventual
eschatological “judgment,” in which God’s people are rewarded, and
God’s enemies are destroyed.
As for those whose works are to be rewarded, they include “servants the
prophets, saints, and all who fear [God’s] name, both small and great.”
While the “prophets” seem to refer either to particular individuals from
Israel’s past,190 or to a specific group within the community of those who
follow the Lamb whose vocational duties distinguish them from the
community as a whole,191 the remaining terms are used in Revelation more

188
Cf. Rev 2:23.
189
The eschatological “rewards” are variously depicted: Eating of the tree of life (2:7;
22:14), immunity from the second death (2:11), authority over the nations (2:26–27),
being granted white garments (3:5; 7:14), becoming a pillar in the temple of God and
having the name of God and the New Jerusalem written upon him (3:12; 22:4), being in
the presence of Christ and God on or before the heavenly throne (3:21; 7:15–17; 22:3–4),
being priests of God and of Christ and reigning with Christ (20:4–6), and being a resident
in the New Jerusalem (21:7, 27; 22:14). Alternatively, the eschatological penalty consists
of ultimate destruction, a “second death,” which appears to consist of being thrown with
the enemies of God into the “lake of fire” where they will be tormented for eternity
(20:10, 14–15; 21:8).
190
Rev 10:7; 22:6.
191
See, for example, Rev 10:7; 11:10; 16:6; 18:20, 24; 22:9. Prigent, Commentary,
79–84; Elisabeth Schüssler-Fiorenza, “Apokalypsis and Propheteia: The Book of Revel-
ation in the Context of Early Christian Prophecy,” in L’Apocalypse johannique et l’apo-
calyptique dans le Nouveau Testament, 120; David E. Aune, “The Prophetic Circle of
John of Patmos and the Exegesis of Revelation 22:16,” JSNT 37 (1989): 103–116.
70 Chapter 2: The Hymns in Revelation

generally to denote communities of followers of the Lamb,192 and so can

be taken to convey as much here.
By contrast, those whose works merit destruction are identified as
“those who destroy the earth” (διαφθεῖραι τοὺς διαφθείροντας τὴν γῆν).
The precise identities of such ones, though not explicitly stated here, as
well as the specific nature of their predicted fate, can be inferred on the
basis of the meanings of the term διαφθείρω. Uses of the term in the non-
Jewish Greek world, the LXX, other early Jewish texts, and the New
Testament, suggest both a literal and a figurative meaning: (1) “to destroy
utterly” in the sense of physical annihilation; or (2) “to corrupt morally.”193
The first sense of this term seems appropriate for the first use of the term
in the clause, as all the evidence elsewhere in Revelation points to the
belief that God’s punishment entails utter destruction, and the fact that this
is always the sense of the word as it appears in the LXX when God is the
subject. There is ambiguity in meaning, however, in the second use of the
term. Presuming that “the earth” is a metonym for the inhabitants of the
earth,194 διαφθείροντας could refer either to those who annihilate the in-
habitants of the earth, or those who figuratively destroy the inhabitants of
the earth by corrupting their behavior.
192
The term ἅγιος regularly functions in Revelation as a substantive adjective de-
noting the community (5:8; 8:3–4; 13:7, 10; 14:12; 16:6; 17:6; 18:20, 24; 19:8; 20:9;
22:21). More difficult is the designation of those who “fear your name” (τοῖς φοβου-
µένοις τὸ ὄνοµά σου). The term is widely used in the Old Testament to denote those who
“revere” or “respect” God to the extent that they follow God’s laws. This use is also
found in the New Testament (e.g., the term appears in Acts denoting non-Jewish congre-
gants who nevertheless abide by the laws and precepts of the Jewish synagogue commun-
ity [Acts 13:16, 43, 50]). In 1 Clement, the term denotes those who follow Jesus (21:7;
23:1; 28:1; 45:6). As such, the term can be taken here and elsewhere in Revelation to
denote those who follow the precepts of the (“Christian”) community. The phrase “both
great and small” appears to denote the totality of a given group. So much is conveyed by
the expression as it is frequently employed in the LXX, early Jewish literature, and the
New Testament (e.g., Gen 19:11; Deut 1:17; 1 Kgs 22:31; 2 Kgs 23:2; 25:26; 1 Chr
12:14; 25:8; 26:13; 2 Chr 18:30; 34:30; Job 3:19; Wis 6:7; Jdt 13:4, 13; Jer 6:13; 38:34;
1 Macc 5:45; Acts 8:10; 26:22; Heb 8:11). Its function in this regard is especially appar-
ent when the phrase qualifies groups whose totality is explicitly conveyed with adjectives
(e.g., πάντες), or when it appears alongside similar constructions in which opposite cat-
egories are employed to express the totality of a particular group, e.g., “free and slave,”
“male and female,” “old and young,” and “living and dead.” The phrase thus denotes all
those who “fear God’s name.” Cf. Rev 13:16; 19:5, 18; 20:12. On these terms as designa-
tions for the “Christian” community to which John was writing, see See Prigent, Com-
mentary, 364. Cf. Akira Satake, Die Gemeindeordnung in der Johannesapokalypse
(WMANT 21; Neukirchen-Vluyn: Neukirchener Verlag, 1966), 39.
193
Harder, “φθείρω, κτλ.,” TDNT 9:93–106.
194
This is the (oftentimes tacit) conclusion of virtually every commentator on the
passage, as there is no concern elsewhere in Revelation for the destruction of “the earth,”
or for those who would destroy “the earth.”
 2.2 Exegetical Analysis of Revelation’s Hymns 71

We may go further in identifying τοὺς διαφθείροντας τὴν γῆν by recog-

nizing that the objects of God’s destruction very often in Revelation appear
to be elements of, and those associated with, Roman Imperial systems.195
Understood alongside the fact that elements of the Roman Imperial appar-
atus (and those associated with it) are held responsible in Revelation for
the physical destruction of God’s people and the followers of the Lamb,196
and leading them astray by requiring participation in activities believed to
be morally and religiously corruptible,197 this phrase likely refers to those
elements of the Roman apparatus and its supporters. In this way, the sec-
ond use of the term is intentionally ambiguous, highlighting the fact that
the Roman Empire is both literally and figuratively destructive.
In summary, the pair of antiphonal hymns in chapter 11, insofar as they
occur immediately after the sounding of the seventh and final trumpet,
stand in-between the narrative sequence of the trumpet blasts that con-
cludes chapter 11 and the scene of the battle between the “Woman with the
Sun” and Satan that constitutes chapter 12. Like the hymns in chapters 4
and 5, the hymns in chapter 11 function to demarcate the preceding narra-
tive sequence from what follows.
Moreover, the hymns serve as a theological reflection on the preceding
narrative, specifically the destruction that comes as a result of the sounding
of the trumpets (and implicitly the other forms of destruction depicted in
the text). The first antiphonal hymn conveys the belief that the destruction
unleashed upon God’s adversaries (here designated the “kingdom of the
earth”) constitutes a battle whose outcome consists of God (and the Lamb)
deposing the rulers of the earthly kingdom and becoming sovereigns over
it. Insofar as the kingdom of the world is a thinly veiled representation of
the actual Roman kingdom in which the author of Revelation was living,
the hymn constitutes a claim that God will depose the Roman emperor and
all of its governing apparatus, and will assume authority upon the earth.
The antiphonal response constitutes an expansion of this theme, framing
the assumption of God’s power over the earth in terms familiar from
antecedent Jewish and Christian eschatological scenarios, as the “coming
of God’s wrath,” and the “judgment of the dead.” That is, the destruction
unleashed upon God’s adversaries, as represented in the sounding of the
trumpets, unsealing of the seals, etc., constitutes God’s retributive wrath
for their actions against God, the Lamb, and the followers thereof. While
this wrath destroys God’s adversaries upon the earth, God’s judgment also

195
On the association of the enemies of God, and the objects of God’s destruction,
with elements of the Roman Imperial apparatus: Rev 2:13–17, 18–25; 14:8–11; 16:1–21;
17:1–18; 18:1–24; 19:19–21.
196
Rev 2:13; 11:7–10; 12:13–17; 13:7, 15; 17:6, 14; 19:19; 20:4; cf. 6:9–11; 7:13–14.
197
Rev 2:13–17, 19–25; 13:4–8; 17:2, 4; 18:3–4, 9; 19:2, 20.
72 Chapter 2: The Hymns in Revelation

comes to those who have died, in the form of the “judgment of the dead,”
by which those whose works are deemed contrary to God are punished
eternally, while those whose works are deemed acceptable are given eter-
nal rewards. In this way, the hymn looks forward to subsequent events in
Revelation, namely, the judgment of the dead (20:11–15), rewarding Chris-
tians in the eschatological age (20:4–6; 21:5–8, 22–27; 22:1–5), and the
ultimate destruction of God’s adversaries (17:1–18:24; 19:17–21; 20:1–3,
7–10).

2.2.6 Rev 12:10–12

Immediately following the sounding of the seventh trumpet and the subse-
quent hymns is a narrative depicting the interactions between the “Woman
Clothed with the Sun” and the “Dragon,” which actually consists of two
distinct but related scenes in which they are the protagonists: the first
taking place in heaven (12:1–9), and the second upon earth (12:13–17).
The heavenly scene opens with depictions of a celestial woman (“clothed
with the sun, with the moon at her feet”) crying out as she is about to give
birth (12:1–2), and a “Red Dragon” with seven crowned heads and ten
horns (12:3), who is awaiting the birth of the child, “in order that he might
devour it as soon as it was born” (12:4). The Woman then gives birth to a
son, who is immediately taken up away from the Dragon to the heavenly
throne of God, while she flees into the wilderness where she is protected
by God (12:5–6). Finally, the archangel Michael and his angels instigate a
war in heaven with the Dragon (who is then explicitly identified as “the
Devil and Satan”) which results in the defeat of the Dragon, and his being
cast out of heaven onto the earth (12:7–9). Such ends the heavenly scene,
which is followed by a brief, non-antiphonal hymn sung by a “mighty
voice in heaven” (12:10–12).
Following the hymn, the action resumes with the Dragon (i.e., Satan)
now roaming the earth and “persecuting” the Woman (12:13). She is then
rescued “into the wilderness” away from the Dragon, though he pursues
her and attempts to drown her with a “river that spewed from his mouth”
(12:14–15). The Woman is again rescued, this time by the earth that
swallows up the flood waters (12:16), at which point the Dragon goes to
make war on the offspring of the Woman, who are identified as those who
“keep the commandments of God and bear witness to Jesus” (12:17).
In order to appreciate the contents of the hymn in chapter 12, further
consideration of this narrative is required. The essential structure of the
narrative that begins the chapter (12:1–9) appears to derive from a well-
known mythic sequence, found in various iterations in Ancient Near East-
ern and Greek literature, in which a goddess gives birth to a male child,
who is subsequently put into grave danger by the pursuit of a mythical ad-
 2.2 Exegetical Analysis of Revelation’s Hymns 73

versary, and who evades pursuit and soon thereafter deposes the adversary
to assume his rightful position.198 To this essential structure, the author of
Revelation 12 has added and re-colored various elements, often drawing
upon traditions in the Old Testament and early Jewish literature, so as to
present a unique version of the story. 199
This particular presentation of the myth functions variously. On one
hand, it incorporates the story of the fall of Satan from heaven within the
narrative framework of the assumption of God and the Lamb to universal
power over heaven and earth. As has been already demonstrated, insofar as
the sovereign rule of God and the Lamb constitutes absolute authority over
heaven and (now) earth, it does not admit any rival claims to authority.
Thus, in terms that evoke various ancient combat myths, the narrative
sequence in Revelation 12 depicts the expulsion of God’s ultimate adver-
sary from heaven as a consequence of this assumption of power.200 At the
same time, this sequence functions as a mechanism for introducing the role
of Satan upon the earth. Insofar as Satan functions as an adversary of the
people of God on earth (e.g., as the source from which the earthly “Beasts”
derive their power [13:4, 11–12], and thus ultimately the source from
which Babylon derives its power [17:3]), the story of the expulsion of
Satan from heaven onto earth provides a mythical explanation of the origin
of Satan’s presence on earth.
The narratives in chapter 12 are also widely thought to function as sym-
bolic representations of various stories of the persecution of the people of
God at the hands of their adversaries. For instance, the opening narrative
(12:1–6) evokes the story of Mary and Joseph’s flight into Egypt as told in
Matt 2:1–15. The association of “male child” with Jesus can be presumed
both from his identification as the Messiah,201 which accords with the iden-

198
In an Egyptian version of this sequence, Isis gives birth to Horus, who is pursued
by the Dragon Typhon, and who eventually kills Typhon. In the Greek version of the
myth, the Delphic serpent Python lies in wait for Leto to give birth to Apollo who, almost
immediately after his birth, pursues and kills the Python. For a synthesis of the many
variations of this myth, and the extent to which elements in Revelation 12 conform to
them, see Aune, Revelation, 2:667–674; William K. Hedrick, “The Sources and Use of
Imagery in Apocalypse 12,” (Ph.D. diss., Graduate Theological Union, 1970); Adela
Yarbro Collins, The Combat Myth in the Book of Revelation (Missoula, Mont.: Scholars
Press, 1976); Joseph Fontenrose, Python: A Study in Delphic Myth (Berkeley: University
of California Press, 1959).
199
Conspicuous modifications include the identification of the “Dragon” as “the Devil
and Satan,” and the fact that the Dragon is overthrown by Michael and his angels, rather
than the newborn. For a summary of elements from the Old Testament and early Jewish
literature incorporated into this mythic structure, see Prigent, Commentary, 377ff.;
Beasley-Murray, Book of Revelation, 194–202.
200
Roloff, Revelation, 143.
201
I.e., by reference to Ps 2:7: “… and he shall rule all nations with a rod of iron.”
74 Chapter 2: The Hymns in Revelation

tification of Jesus as the Messiah elsewhere in Revelation,202 and also from

the fact that upon birth he is pursued by one who seeks to destroy him
(Matt 2:13). Insofar as King Herod is the one pursuing Jesus in the Mat-
thew narrative (Matt 2:13), the Dragon in Revelation 12 can be taken to
represent him. Finally, the association of the Woman with Mary, the
mother of Jesus, can be inferred from the very fact that she is presented as
the mother of the Messiah, and also from the fact that she (with the child)
is taken safely away from the persecutor, which in Matthew is depicted as
their flight to Egypt (Matt 2:14–15).
At the same time that the heavenly sequence which begins chapter 12
conjures the story of Jesus’ miraculous escape to Egypt in Matt 2:1–15,203
the earthly sequence that ends the chapter (Rev 12:13–17) can be taken to
represent the story of the Exodus.204 The actions of the Woman recall spe-
cific adventures of God’s people during the Exodus, i.e., escaping “into the
wilderness” (Rev 12:14), being in danger of, and subsequently rescued
from, a flow of water (12:15–16), while elements of the narrative recall
aspects of the adventures of the Exodus, including the fact that the Woman
is given “eagles’ wings” to escape (Exod 19:4; cf. Deut 32:11), and is
“nourished” in the “wilderness” (Exodus 16). Moreover, the salvific
mechanism by which the woman escapes the flood (Rev 12:16) evokes the
destruction of the Egyptian army as they pursued the Israelites, i.e., the
earth likewise “swallowed” them up (Exod 15:12). In this vein, the de-
scription of the actions of the Dragon can be understood to reflect the
actions of the Pharaoh pursuing the Israelites into the desert (Rev 12:13),
and the army of the Pharaoh driving the Israelites to the sea (12:15).205
Others recognize in the narrative broader allusions to the people of
Israel and their historical adversaries. Various clues in the text lend to such
an interpretation, including the fact that the depiction of the people of God
as a woman is well attested in the Old Testament,206 as is the depiction of
God’s people as a woman about to give birth.207 That the Woman here
represents the people of God is further supported by the description of her
wearing a “crown of twelve stars,” which recalls the stars (of the tribes of
Israel) bowing down to Joseph in his dream.208
That the Dragon can be taken to represent various adversaries of God
and God’s people is suggested by the terms used to identify the Dragon.

202
I.e., χριστός. Rev 1:1, 2, 5; 11:15; 12:10; 20:4, 6; 22:21.
203
A story which itself seems to have constituted a variation of the very “combat
myth” re-told in Revelation 12.
204
Prigent, Commentary, 372, n. 19.
205
The association of Pharaoh as a “dragon” has a precedent in Ezek 29:3; 32:2.
206
E.g., Ezekiel 16.
207
E.g., Isa 26:17; Jer 4:31; Mic 4:10. Cf. Isa 66:7–9; 1QH 3:4–18.
208
Gen 37:9. Prigent, Commentary, 379; Roloff, Revelation, 145.
 2.2 Exegetical Analysis of Revelation’s Hymns 75

For example, the “ancient serpent” recalls the serpent who tempted Eve in
Gen 3:1–7; Satan (ὁ Σατανᾶς) evokes the adversary of Job (Job 1:6–12),
Joshua (Zech 3:1–2), and Israel (1 Chr 21:1);209 and the Devil (ὁ ∆ιάβολος)
recalls numerous adversaries of God and God’s people in canonical and
non-canonical Jewish and Christian literature.210 The association of the
Dragon with adversarial earthly powers is further suggested by its initial
description in v. 3, where it is described as having “seven heads, ten horns,
and ten diadems.” Such features evoke descriptions of similar creatures in
antecedent Jewish literature, which likewise represent adversarial histori-
cal entities. For example, King Nebuchadnezzar is identified as a “dragon”
in Jer 51:34, while in Daniel 7 a beast is described as having, among other
features, “ten horns” (Dan 7:7–8), which are said to represent ten “kings
which will arise out of this kingdom” (Dan 7:24).211 That the Dragon in
Revelation 12 represents adversarial earthly powers is further suggested by
the fact that its features recall those of the Beast from the Sea in chapter
13, which are widely thought to represent aspects of Roman Imperial
rule.212 Finally, various actions of the Dragon correspond with the actions
of the adversaries of the people of God in the Old Testament. For example,
the waters that threaten the Woman (12:15) conjure the chaotic waters that
were considered to represent the enemies of Israel.213
Thus, the characters in chapter 12 evoke (and appear to have been in-
tended to evoke) simultaneously multiple associations.214 At the same time
that the Woman conjures a range of mythic images of pregnant goddesses
who gave birth under duress (i.e., Leto, Isis, etc.), she evokes specific
historical entities (the Israelites fleeing Egypt, Mary the mother of Jesus)
who were likewise persecuted by adversarial forces. At the same time,
while the Dragon conjures images of the menacing god who threatens the
pregnant goddess and its offspring (i.e., Typhon, Seth, etc.), it simultan-

209
Cf. T. Gad 4:7; T. Ash. 6:4; T. Dan 3:6; 5:5–6; 6:1.
210
It is often used to translate the Hebrew śāṭān in the LXX. For a summary of this
use and others, see Aune, Revelation, 2:698–700.
211
Cf. Sib. Or. 3, a Jewish interpolation based on Daniel 7, in which the ten horns
represent earthly kings. Sib. Or. 3.396–400. See also Daniel 8, in which the horns of the
animals represent historical kings.
212
Largely on the basis of the fact that they are explicitly identified later in the text as
the seven “hills” and “kings” of Rome (17:9–12). Aune, Revelation, 2:731ff.; Boring,
Revelation, 155–156; Prigent, Commentary, 401ff. The precise relationship of the Dragon
in chapter 12 and the Beast in chapter 13 (and 17) remains in question. On one hand, the
Beast appears to be distinct from the Dragon and subordinate to it (13:4), while on the
other hand, the same terms used to describe the Dragon and the Beast suggest that they
represent the same historical (i.e., Roman Imperial) entities.
213
Pss 18:5–18; 46:3–4; 144:3–7; Hab 3:15. Aune, Revelation, 2:707.
214
This approach differs from those who seek to identify a single referent for each of
the characters, whereby each character is associated with a single historical entity.
76 Chapter 2: The Hymns in Revelation

eously evokes specific adversaries (Pharaoh, King Herod, etc.) who posed
grave dangers to those persecuted historical entities. As such, the narrative
in chapter 12 can be taken to represent the struggles faced by various
groups of people over and against historical adversaries, including the
people of Israel,215 and even the early Church.216
By presenting a mythical story whose symbolic imagery allows for such
varied associations, the author of Revelation is able to situate his story of
the persecution of his people in his own time (Jesus followers in Asia
Minor under Roman Imperial rule) within a larger trajectory of persecution
manifest at various points in the history of his people. "In other words, the
present hardships described by the author are framed in light of the
struggles of past peoples, and can in fact be viewed in terms of these past
struggles. The Dragon, who directly persecutes those “who maintain the
testimony of Jesus” (12:17), and who indirectly supports their persecution
(13:4ff.), is presented as the selfsame entity who persecuted Israelites in
Egypt and threatened the family of Jesus after his birth. At the same time,
insofar as the Woman and her infant son, whose story is a reflection of the
very struggles the churches in Asia Minor community are now facing (as
John presents them), were ultimately delivered from the peril of the
Dragon’s assault, so, too, can the readers of John’s Apocalypse expect that
they will be delivered from their current predicament. That is, the defeat of
the Dragon in heaven, which allegorically represents the defeat of God’s
past adversaries, presages the eventual defeat of the current adversaries of
God and God’s people. Thus, not only are the present struggles of the com-
munity framed here in terms of those of past peoples, but the deliverance
of the community is assured on the basis of the fact that God has delivered
God’s people from similar circumstances in times past.
Having now considered the narrative contents of chapter 12, the hymn
itself, which occurs immediately after the expulsion of the Dragon from
heaven, can be evaluated. Like the hymn in chapter 11, the identity of
those singing the hymn is not revealed, and the hymn is described only as a
“great sound” (12:10). From this it can be inferred, as it was in chapter 11,
that the hymn is sung by one heavenly group in particular, or some com-
bination of heavenly entities that sing each of the previous hymns.217 The
opening consists of an acclamation:

215
Yarbro Collins, Combat Myth, 107.
216
This was an interpretation proposed by early commentators, including Hippolytus,
Antichr. 61; Methodius, Symp. 8.5. The notion that the Woman refers to the Church is still
widely held. Bernard J. Le Frois, The Woman Clothed with the Sun (Ap. 12): Individual
or Collective? (Rome: Orbis Catholicus, 1954), 11–38.
217
Some have supposed that this voice could not come from any of the angelic figures,
as they would not have referred to those being “accused” by Satan as “our brothers”
(v. 10). In this view, the voice must belong to heavenly martyrs, e.g., the Great Multitude
 2.2 Exegetical Analysis of Revelation’s Hymns 77

Now has come the salvation and power and kingdom of our God and the authority of His
Messiah.

The temporal adverb ἄρτι, taken together with the aorist ἐγένετο, reveals
that what follows is related to the events that have just occurred.218 Thus,
the defeat of the Dragon by Michael and his angels (12:7–9), as well as the
deliverance of the Woman and her infant child that precede the hymn
(12:5–6), are related to the coming of the “salvation, power, and kingdom
of God and the authority of His Messiah.”219
In such a reading, the coming of salvation refers precisely to the de-
liverance of the Woman and her infant child (12:5–6), which makes sense
insofar as the term is regularly employed in the LXX and New Testament
to denote “protection,” “rescue,” or “help,” in perilous circumstances,220 as
well as the fact that it is used elsewhere in Revelation to denote the
“rescue” of others (e.g., the Great Multitude in 7:9–17; 19:1). At the same
time, the coming of the “power and the kingdom of God, and the authority
of His Messiah” appear to be more directly related to Satan’s defeat and
expulsion from heaven. So much is revealed by the description of the acts
themselves. That is, insofar as the act of “throwing” (βάλλω) intrinsically
connotes the superior power of the one performing the action over and
against the recipient of the action,221 the description of Satan being
“thrown” (ἐβλήθη) confirms the superior power of Michael and his angels
over Satan. The characterization of Satan’s defeat in the war with Michael
and his angels (οὐκ ἴσχυσεν) explicitly confirms such a reading (12:8).222

in 7:9; 19:1, or those “under the altar” in 6:9. Charles, Revelation of St. John, 1:327;
Aune, Revelation, 2:701; Prigent, Commentary, 390.
218
See Aune, Revelation, 2:699.
219
This reading is confirmed by the ὅτι clause that follows the opening line of the
hymn, in which the act of the “accuser” having been “thrown down” is identified as the
cause of the “coming salvation, power, kingdom,” etc.
220
This is the most frequent sense of the term in the LXX, and becomes the exclusive
sense of the word in the New Testament.
221
Insofar as the term denotes the action of an agent to move (physically) an object, it
signals in an Aristotelian sense the superiority of the one throwing over the object being
thrown. When the agent and object are persons, the verb likewise denotes the physical
superiority of the one acting vis-à-vis the recipient of the action as, e.g., in Sophocles,
Oed. tyr. 622; Epictetus, Diss. 1.1.24; Josephus, Ant. 1.629; J.W. 4.28. The term ἐκβάλλω
carries a similar connotation, as in Demosthenes, Or. 60.8; Thucydides 2.68.6; P. Oxy.
1.104.17. Especially relevant to the current passage are those instances in the New
Testament in which a character being thrown out (ἐκβάλλω) signals an act of power and
authority on the part of the one performing the action, e.g., Jesus casting out demons (Mark
1:34, 43; 3:15, 22ff.; 9:38; Matt 8:16; 12:29, 44; Luke 11:20), or expelling the money-
changers (John 2:15). Often the character is explicitly or implicitly understood to have
received this power from God (e.g., Matt 12:28; Luke 11:20; John 6:37).
222
ἰσχ- denotes “power” or “ability,” and is essentially synonymous with the stem
δυνα- (cf. n. 78 above). In a context in which the root is used to express a relationship
78 Chapter 2: The Hymns in Revelation

Insofar as Michael and his angels represent agents acting on God’s be-
half,223 these actions thus demonstrate the sovereign power of God and the
authority of the Lamb.224 As is clear from other scenes in Revelation in
which God and His Messiah are portrayed as the sole sovereigns of heaven
and earth,225 the kingdom of God and the Lamb does not allow for adver-
sarial entities to remain in power.226 Thus, the expulsion of Satan from
heaven, which symbolizes Satan’s loss of authority in the heavenly realm,
is part and parcel of the coming kingdom of God.
While the salvation and power of God, and the authority of the Messiah,
are itemized alongside the kingdom of God in the list of forces that are
said to have now come, they can be more precisely understood to represent
particular aspects of this kingdom. In other words, the coming of God’s
kingdom entails precisely the coming of God’s salvation, which here rep-
resents the deliverance of the Woman, as well as the power of God and the
authority of His Messiah, which here represents the defeat of the Dragon/
Satan to establish the sovereignty of God and His Messiah in heaven and
on earth. And thus, the opening of the hymn makes explicit what is
depicted in the preceding narrative, that the coming of the kingdom of God
has dual consequences: salvation for God’s elect and punishment for God’s
enemies.227

with another person or group, e.g., ἰσχυρότερος, the term can express the relationship in
hierarchal terms, demonstrating the superior power of one person over another (e.g., Matt
3:11). Cf. κατισχύω. Thus, in the context of chapter 12, the phrase οὐκ ἴσχυσεν signals
the inferior strength of Satan vis-à-vis Michael and his angels.
223
The angel Michael often appears in Jewish tradition as an agent of God who
defends God’s people by means of military action, as in Dan 10:13, 21; 12:1. Sometimes
Michael appears as a “ruler” (1 En. 20:5; Dan 12:1; Dionysius Areopagita, [De caelesti
hierarchia] 9.2). Or as an “archangel” (1 En. 9:1; T. Ab. 1:4, 6; 10:1; 20:10; Jude 9; etc.).
Or as a “lead general” (T. Ab. 1:4ff.; 3 Bar. 11:4–8; Gk. Apoc. Ezra 4:24). See Aune,
Revelation, 2:693–695.
224
The term ἐξουσία is not associated with the Lamb/Messiah/exalted Jesus elsewhere
in Revelation. It may denote an aspect of God’s sovereignty that has been granted to the
exalted Jesus by God upon his enthronement, which is elsewhere characterized as δύνα-
µις and ἰσχύς. Alternatively, ἐξουσία may represent the totality of those privileges that
have been granted to the Lamb. The second reading is supported by the fact that ἐξουσία
is the Greek translation for the Latin imperium, which denoted the authority of the em-
peror granted to, and wielded by, his highest administrative agent(s). Aune, Revelation,
2:700.
225
E.g., the claim implicit in the listing of sovereign prerogatives to God and the
Lamb in 4:11 and 5:9–10 that God and the Lamb alone are worthy to be designated
sovereigns.
226
Or, if the adversarial powers do maintain some power it is because it has been
granted to them by God, e.g., 20:3, 7–10.
227
In this way, the coming of the kingdom of God is portrayed here in similar terms to
those found in the previous chapter. The coming of the kingdom of God entails both
 2.2 Exegetical Analysis of Revelation’s Hymns 79

As are hymnic acclamations elsewhere in Revelation, the acclamation in

12:10 is followed by a causal (ὅτι) clause that clarifies the grounds for the
acclamation:228
Because the accuser of our brothers has been thrown, the one who was accusing them
before our God day and night; they conquered him by the blood of the Lamb and by the
word of their testimony,229 for they did not love their soul to the point of death.

Here the coming of the salvation, power, and kingdom of God, and the
authority of His Messiah, is explicitly associated with the expulsion of
Satan from heaven. While the hymn recounts Satan’s expulsion in similar
terms as in the preceding narrative (ἐβλήθη), it also introduces elements
not depicted in the narrative, including: (1) The identification of the Dragon
as “the accuser”; (2) The explicit identification of the community to whom
the author was writing as the object of Satan’s accusations; and (3) A de-
scription of the martyrological mechanism by which Satan is cast down to
earth.
Satan is further identified as the “accuser” (ὁ κατήγωρ). Though the
term is a hapax legomenon in biblical sources, it can be understood as a
synonym of the more widely attested κατήγορος, which refers in the New
Testament to one making an accusation in a law-court.230 In this way, the
term is functionally equivalent to the Hebrew śāṭān and the Greek σατα-
νᾶς, for which the term appears as an epithet in Rabbinic sources.231 Such a
designation thus further associates the Dragon with that mythical adversary
of God and God’s people who was variously described in early Judaism
and Christianity, i.e., Satan, Devil, the Ancient Serpent, etc. At the same
time, this designation further clarifyies his function as an adversary, i.e., as
“the accuser,” a function repeated in the predicative clause that follows the
epithet, in which he is identified as “… the one accusing them before our
God day and night.” Satan is thus understood in terms familiar from ante-
cedent Jewish sources in which he functions as the heavenly prosecutor of
God’s people.232

salvation of God’s people (i.e., the “Two Witnesses” who had been persecuted and killed
[11:11]), and defeat of God’s enemies (i.e., the destruction of the “inhabitants of the
earth” who were responsible for it [11:13]). At the same time, the kingdom of God is
revealed in both instances to entail the sovereignty of the Messiah.
228
I.e., 4:11; 5:9; 11:17; 15:4; 16:5–6; 19:2, 6–7.
229
τὸν λόγον τῆς µαρτυρίας.
230
John 8:10; Acts 23:30, 35; 25:16, 18.
231
Büchsel, “κατήγορος, κτλ.,” TDNT 3:636–637.
232
Texts depicting a heavenly court in which God sits as judge include: 1 Kgs 22:19;
Pss 82:1; 89:5–7; Jer 23:18, 22. Cf. b. Sanh. 38b; Exod. Rab. 30:18; Lev. Rab. 24:2.
Texts that depict Satan as the heavenly prosecutor include: Job 1:6–12; 2:1–7; Zech 3:1–
2; 1 Chr 21:1;T. Job 8:1–3; 16:2–4; 20:1–3; Jub. 1:20; 17:15–16; 48:15–18; 1 En. 40:7.
80 Chapter 2: The Hymns in Revelation

By drawing upon such a notion, and identifying the object of Satan’s

accusing as “our brothers,” which is a euphemism for the community of
those to whom the author is writing,233 the author is linking the present
suffering of the community to the machinations of Satan in heaven.234 At
the same time, insofar as the expulsion of Satan from heaven is repeated in
the hymn, the author is reaffirming the belief that, even if the persecution
continues for a “short time” as Satan prowls the earth (12:12, 17), this suf-
fering is about to come to an end, as the ultimate cause of the community’s
suffering has been removed from his place of power.
While the cause of Satan’s expulsion from heaven in the preceding
narrative is ostensibly his defeat at the hands of Michael and his angels
(12:7–9), the clause in v. 11 of the hymn identifies a more specific cause:
Satan was “conquered” by the “blood of the Lamb” and the “word of their
testimony.” The first of these phenomena clearly refers to the death of
Jesus, insofar as the blood of the Lamb functions here, as elsewhere in
Revelation, as a metonym for it.235 In the same vein, the word of their
testimony refers to the deaths of those in the community to whom the
Apocalypse was written on account of their testimony. That the community
is here referred to is evident by the fact that the plural possessive pronoun
αὐτῶν can reasonably refer in this hymn only to “the brothers,”236 while
the association of the word of their testimony with the deaths of those in
the community is made clear by the following qualifying clause: “for they
did not love their soul to the point of death.” This phrase, which evokes a
widespread Greco-Roman trope in which noble deaths are understood to be
a consequence of not loving one’s own life,237 explicitly qualifies the word
of testimony as that which leads to death,238 and thus clarifies that the
second mechanism by which Satan is conquered is precisely the deaths of
those in the community that result from their testimony. 239

233
The identification of those in the community as “brothers,” which derives from
well-established Jewish and Greek customs for denoting religious compatriots, is espe-
cially well attested in Acts and in Paul. See von Soden, “ἀδελφός,” TDNT 1:145–146.
234
This is something that might already have been conveyed in the character of the
Woman, insofar as she could be taken to represent the community.
235
Rev 1:5; 5:9; 7:14. Cf. 19:13.
236
The term functions in the hymn and elsewhere as a metonym for the community
itself.
237
See Euripides, Hec. 348; Herc. fur. 518, 531–534; Demosthenes, Or. 60.28; Jose-
phus, Ant. 6.344; 12.301; 13.198. Aune, Revelation, 2:703.
238
The association between “testimony” and death is found elsewhere in Revelation
(1:9; 6:9; 12:17; 20:4; cf. 17:6).
239
The association between “testimony” and “death” here is further suggested by the
fact that testimony was often accompanied by death in the Old Testament, and in early
Jewish and Christian sources, e.g., the prophets (1 Kgs 19:10; Jer 26:20ff.), the Macca-
bean rebels (1–4 Maccabees), or Jesus before the high-priest (Mark 14:63//Matt 26:65).
 2.2 Exegetical Analysis of Revelation’s Hymns 81

The claim that Satan was “conquered” by the death of Jesus, as well as
the deaths of those in the community to whom the Apocalypse was written,
can be understood in terms of antecedent Jewish traditions in which martyrs
were said to conquer their persecutors. For example, in 4 Maccabees,
martyrs are said to conquer their torturers through their own deaths.240 This
notion, which appears to reflect a Stoic worldview in which the virtues of
patient suffering and endurance in the face of death represented victory
over the passions of physical pain, anxiety, fear, etc., appears in later
Christian martyrological texts, e.g., Martyrdom of Perpetua, in which her
martyrdom is characterized as victory over the Devil.241 Such a notion is
thus incorporated in this hymn within the broader context of the story of
the fall of Satan, whereby Satan’s defeat and expulsion from heaven is
understood to be the result of the efficacy of the deaths of Jesus and his
followers.
The conclusion of the hymn includes an exultation to the heavens, and a
warning call to those on the earth and in the sea:
Rejoice therefore, heavens and those who dwell in them; but woe to the earth and the sea,
for the Devil has come down to you with great wrath, because he knows that his time is
short.

The cause for the exultation and the woe is one and the same: Satan has
been expelled from heaven.242 As a result, the heavens may rejoice insofar
as Satan is no longer present there, while the earth and the sea must take
heed now that he has been cast down amongst them. The form of the exul-
tation recalls passages in the Old Testament in which the heavens are told
to rejoice on account of some deed for which God was responsible, e.g.,
the return of the exiles from Babylon (Isa 44:23; 49:13), and the creation
and judgment of the earth (Ps 96:11).243 In a sense, then, this exultation
marks the conclusion of the activities of the Dragon in heaven. Unlike
these antecedent exultations, however, in which the earth is enjoined to
exult alongside the heavens,244 here the earth and the sea are instead
warned that the Dragon has come to earth. The alert (οὐαί) recalls prophetic
warnings of imminent danger elsewhere in Revelation and in the biblical

Moreover, µαρτυρία comes to connote martyrdom as early as the middle of the 2nd c., as
in the Martyrdom of Polycarp, and Melito of Sardis. Strathmann, “µάρτυς, κτλ.,” TDNT
4:504–508.
240
4 Macc 6:10; 7:4; 9:6, 30; 11:20; 16:14; 17:15.
241
Mart. Perpetua 10:13–14.
242
The clause is clearly linked to the preceding verse by the prepositional phrase διὰ
τοῦτο.
243
In each of these cases, a passive form of the verb εὐφραίνω appears in the form of
a command, with οἱ οὐρανοί functioning as the subject.
244
Along with the “sea” in Psalm 96.
82 Chapter 2: The Hymns in Revelation

tradition,245 and does not contain information as to the specific threat posed
by the Dragon (who is here simply referred to as “The Devil”), other than
the fact that he has come with “great wrath, because he knows his time is
short.” Though it is not stated explicitly, this wrath likely consists of his
actions that immediately follow: the persecution of the Woman and her
offspring in 12:13–17, in which he is characterized as “angry” and as
“making war,” and the destruction unleashed by the Beast from the Sea
and the Beast from the Land in the following chapter, to which he has
given his authority (13:2, 12). The characterization of such acts as the
“wrath” of Satan makes sense in light of early Jewish and Christian
martyrological accounts in which the acts of the adversaries are likewise
characterized as “anger” and/or “rage.”246 The final clause provides the
motivation for this “wrath,” i.e., “because he knows his time is short.” The
final line looks forward to a point described later in the text in which God
ultimately destroys Satan (20:1–3, 7–10), and thus appears to reflect a
belief that the time during which Satan will persecute God’s people is both
pre-determined and limited.247
In summary, insofar as the hymn in chapter 12 occurs between the two
narrative sequences that constitute the chapter, it functions narratively as
have previous hymns to demarcate one scene from another. It also func-
tions as do each of the previous hymns to frame the preceding events in a
particular theological light, by characterizing the deliverance of the
Woman and the defeat of the Dragon as dual aspects of the coming of the
kingdom of God. That is, the hymn makes clear what might be inferred
from the scene itself: the deliverance of the Woman symbolizes the “salva-
tion of God,” while the defeat of the Dragon represents the coming of the
“power of God” and the “authority of His Messiah.”
By identifying the Dragon as “the accuser of our brothers,” the hymn
presents the mythic battle as one that can also be understood to represent
the battle presently taking place in the community. Moreover, the salvation
of the Woman and the defeat of the Dragon, (and thus the salvation of the
community and the defeat of the earthly rulers represented by them), is re-
framed in the hymn to be the result of the death of Jesus and the martyr-
dom of his followers. Finally, the hymn proclaims the coming persecution
of the Dragon (i.e., “the Devil”) upon the earth, and in so doing functions

245
See especially Rev 8:13; 18:10, 16, 19.
246
Dan 3:13, 19; 11:30; 2 Macc 7:3, 39; 3 Macc 3:1; 4:12–13; 5:1; 4 Macc 8:2; 9:10;
Acts 5:33; 7:54; Mart. Pol. 12:2; Mart. Carpus 9; Eusebius, Hist. eccl. 5.1.17. See Aune,
Revelation, 2:708.
247
E.g., the time allotted to the “nations” to trample over the holy city is 42 months
(11:2–3), a duration corresponding to the time given to the Beast from the Sea to exercise
authority in 13:5.
 2.2 Exegetical Analysis of Revelation’s Hymns 83

unlike previous hymns to foreshadow the following scene, in which the

Dragon comes to earth and persecutes those in it (12:13–17).

2.2.7 Rev 15:3–4

Several narrative sequences occur prior to the next hymn in chapter 15,
and thus provide a context for its interpretation. As such, these sequences
will be considered briefly prior to a discussion of the hymn itself. The
scene involving the Dragon and the Woman is immediately followed by
descriptions of two beasts – one “from the sea” (13:1–8), and one “from
the land” (13:11–18) – each depicted in no uncertain terms as earthly adver-
saries of God and God’s people.248 Thus, the persecution of God’s people,
depicted mythically in chapter 12 as the struggle between the Woman and
the Dragon, is continued in chapter 13 by beastly proxies of the Dragon.
And, as in the previous chapter, this persecution is widely understood to
represent historical realia, insofar as the Beasts are believed to represent
aspects of the Roman Imperial apparatus.249 As such, the chapter as a
whole is at once an exposition of the author’s belief that the Roman
Imperial apparatus is wholly corrupt and evil, borne by Satan himself, and
stands with Satan in complete opposition to God and God’s people, and at
the same time a call to those in the community to recognize the Empire for
what the author perceives it to be, and to reject it at all costs, even to the
point of death (13:10).
Following this exposition is a vision of 144,000 before the heavenly
throne, singing with the Living Creatures and 24 Elders a “new song” to
God (14:1–5). The vision clearly evokes the vision of the 144,000 before
the throne in 7:1–8,250 and appears to present a vision of the heavenly
reward for those who refuse to participate in Roman Imperial systems. The
144,000 marked with the names of the Lamb and the Father (14:1) rep-
resent an antithesis of those who received the “mark of the Beast” in the

248
The authority of the first Beast is said to derive from the Dragon (13:4), and whose
actions including blaspheming God (13:5–6), making war on the “saints” (13:7), and
slaughtering those who do not worship it (13:8). The second Beast enables the authority
of the first Beast and exercises all of its authority (13:12–15), deceives the inhabitants of
the earth (13:14), and prohibits anyone from buying or selling goods unless they bear its
mark (13:16–17).
249
A full treatment of the extent to which the images in chapter 13 can be understood
to represent aspects of the Roman Imperial apparatus is offered by Carey, “The Book of
Revelation as Counter-Imperial Script,” 157–176; Friesen, “Myth and Symbolic Resist-
ance,” 281–313; Bauckham, Climax of Prophecy, 384–452; Yarbro Collins, “The Political
Perspective,” 241–256.
250
In addition to the fact that 144,000 are depicted in heaven, they are likewise
described as having been marked on their foreheads, and are identified by the sound that
they make in heaven.
84 Chapter 2: The Hymns in Revelation

previous chapter (13:16).251 Read in such a way, the chapter mirrors visions
elsewhere in Revelation in which those who have remained faithful to God
are depicted as having received a heavenly reward (e.g., those who had
been slaughtered for their testimony in 6:9–11; the Great Multitude in 7:9–
17; 19:1–10).
If the vision of the 144,000 before the heavenly throne is a vision of the
coming rewards for those who refuse to participate in Imperial social, poli-
tical, economic, and religious structures, the two subsequent visions reveal
the dire consequences for those who do participate in them: destruction
and punishment. The first vision consists of a series of proclamations of
the coming destruction in terms of angelic announcements of: (1) the
coming of the “judgment” of God; (2) the fall of Babylon; and (3) punish-
ment for those who worship the Beast and receive its mark. Although these
pronouncements are couched in metaphoric and symbolic language, they
leave no doubt that the recipients of God’s judgment (14:7) are none other
than Rome and its loyal supporters. Insofar as Babylon is a thinly veiled
allusion to Rome itself,252 the claim that it is “fallen” (14:8) signals none
other than the destruction of the capital of the Empire. At the same time,
insofar as those who “worship the Beast and its image” and “receive its
mark” are allusions to those who participate in various Roman Imperial
systems, the claim that they will “drink the wine of the wrath of God …
and experience the torments of fire and sulfur” (14:10) clearly signals their
coming punishment.253

251
It is precisely the fact that they have not received the “mark of the Beast” (i.e.,
participated in Roman economic systems [13:17]), that has allowed them to receive the
“mark” of the Lamb and the Father, and the heavenly reward depicted in 14:1–7. Insofar
as participation in the Roman economic system necessarily entailed participation in
Roman social, religious, and political structures, refusal to receive the “mark of the
Beast” connotes not only the refusal to participate in the Roman economic systems per
se, but refusal to participate in the broader systems associated with it. See J. Nelson
Kraybill, Imperial Cult and Commerce in John’s Apocalypse (JSNTSup 132; Sheffield:
Sheffield Academic Press, 1996), 113–141.
252
That Rome should be identified in symbolic terms should be expected given the
fact that it is only ever identified symbolically elsewhere in Revelation. The use of Baby-
lon as a cipher for Rome here (and in 16:19; 17:6; 18:2, 10, 21) can be inferred from the
fact that it exists as a cipher for Rome in several Jewish apocalyptic texts from about the
same time, including 4 Ezra 3:1–2, 28–31; 16:44, 46; 2 Bar. 10:2; 11:1; 67:7; Sib. Or.
5.143, 159.
253
While the “wrath of God” frequently denotes the punishment of God in the Old
Testament and early Jewish literature, the metaphor of drinking from the “cup” of the
“wine of the wrath of God” is found in Jer (LXX) 32:15 and Ps (LXX) 74:9. So, too, is
the imagery of the torments of “fire and sulfur” employed in the Old Testament to con-
note punishment in Ps (LXX) 11:6 and Ezek 38:22. Similar metaphors are used elsewhere
in Revelation to connote divine punishment. For the “fury of God,” see Rev 14:19; 15:7;
16:1, 19; 19:15. For “fire and sulfur,” see Rev 19:20; 20:10; 21:8.
 2.2 Exegetical Analysis of Revelation’s Hymns 85

While the first vision announces the coming destruction and punishment
upon the Roman Imperial apparatus, the second vision depicts it. That is,
“one like the son of man” is portrayed “harvesting of the earth” (14:15–
16), while an angel is depicted “gathering of the clusters of the vine … and
throwing [them] onto the winepress” (14:17–20). Thus, in metaphoric
terms that evoke symbolic depictions of the punishment of God’s adver-
saries in the Old Testament, early Jewish midrash, and the New Testa-
ment,254 the pronouncements of God’s judgment are here enacted.
Having established the narrative context of the hymn in chapter 15, it
remains to consider the hymn itself. The hymn is said to be sung by “those
who had conquered the Beast” (15:2) who, like each of the hymnists before
them, are envisioned before the throne of God and the Lamb.255 Identifying
this group is complicated by the fact that to this point in the text no group
has been identified as conquering a beast; in fact, the destruction of the
Beast is not even intimated until 17:8ff., nor described until 19:17–21,
where the Beast’s demise is explicitly linked to its capture at the hands of
the “rider on the white horse” and his “armies” (19:11–21). Thus, the
group singing the hymn in chapter 15 might refer proleptically to this
group depicted in chapter 19.256 At the same time, insofar as the language
used to describe the singers in chapter 15 evokes those described as having
conquered the “accuser” (i.e., the Dragon/Satan) in 12:11, the singers may
here be imagined to be these martyrs.257
Before turning to the contents of the hymn itself, a final preliminary
issue must be addressed: Whatever group may be envisioned to be singing
the hymn, they are said to sing the “Song of Moses, servant of God, and
the Song of the Lamb” (15:3). The characterization of the hymn as the
Song of Moses evokes songs sung by Moses in the Old Testament (Exod
15:11; Deuteronomy 32), insofar as this hymn, like Moses’ hymn in Exodus,
takes place near a sea, as well as the fact that particular phrases in the

254
The notion of the judgment of God as a “harvest” was widespread. See Isa 17:5;
18:4–5; 24:13; Jer 51:33; Hos 6:11; Mic 4:12–13; 4 Ezra 4:28–32; 2 Bar. 70:20; Matt
13:24–30, 36–43; Mark 13:26–27//Matt 24:30–31. The metaphor of the sickle as an agent
of God’s judgment is found in Joel (LXX) 3:13; Midr. Ps. 8.1.73; T. Ab. 4:11; 8:9–10; Vit.
Proph. 3:6–7. The notion of the judgment of God as a grape harvest can be found in Joel
(LXX) 3:13, while the metaphor of judgment as winepress can be found in Isa 63:1–6;
Tg. Isa. 63:3–4; Joel 4:13–14.
255
So much can be assumed from the description of a “sea of glass mixed with fire,”
which clearly evokes the heavenly throne-room, as for example, in Rev 4:5–6. That is,
the “sea of glass” here recalls “something like a sea of glass” depicted before the throne
in 4:6, while the mention of “fire” seems to recall the seven flaming torches in 4:5.
256
Although the language of conquering, which characterizes the group in chapter 15,
is not used in chapter 19.
257
For this interpretation, see Prigent, Commentary, 459–460.
86 Chapter 2: The Hymns in Revelation

hymn recall elements of each of these antecedent hymns.258 By recalling

these songs of Moses, and the one from Exodus in particular, the themes of
the judgment of God’s enemies and the salvation of God’s people are
foregrounded such that they frame the contents of the hymn. That is, just
as the songs of Moses commemorated the intervention of God on behalf of
God’s people, which entailed their salvation and the destruction of their
enemies, so, too will the hymn in Rev 15 enumerate the judgments of God
upon God’s enemies, as well as the ultimate salvation of God’s people.
The characterization of the hymn as the “Song of the Lamb” is less
immediately recognizable. It is unlikely that the Song of the Lamb evokes
a song sung by the Lamb, as there is no evidence for such a song in the
text of Revelation or outside of it. As such, the Song of the Lamb alter-
natively might be thought to connote a song about the Lamb, as in 5:9–
13.259 Such a reading is made difficult by the fact that the song does not
explicitly mention, nor clearly allude to, the Lamb, but is focused rather on
the actions of God (15:3) and the actions of the people vis-à-vis God (15:4).
Nevertheless, the characterization of this hymn as a song about the Lamb
makes sense if the plight of the Lamb is understood to be part and parcel of
the “great and marvelous works” and “righteous and true ways” of God
that are praised in the hymn, which we will see is precisely the case.260
The hymn proper begins with praise of God:
Great and marvelous are your works, Lord God Almighty; righteous and true are your
ways, O King of the Nations.

In formal terms, the opening of the hymn resembles various Psalms and
Proverbs in which virtually synonymous phrases are paired to form a kind
of poetic couplet. In terms of content, individual elements of the hymn are
recognizable from various Old Testament texts, especially the Psalms.261
Taken as a whole, the opening of the hymn constitutes a positive reflection
on what has transpired in the text to this point. That is, “great and marvel-
ous works” and “righteous and true ways” are characterizations of the acts

258
E.g., “Great and marvelous are your works” (Exod 15:11); “Just and true are your
ways” (Deut 32:4).
259
E.g., Aune, Revelation, 2:872–873.
260
The characterization of this hymn as the Song of Moses can be related to its
characterization as the Song of the Lamb. Just as the songs of Moses evoke interventions
of God in history on behalf of God’s people through the character of Moses, so, too does
the Song of the Lamb indicate the intervention of God in history on behalf of God’s
people through the crucifixion and exaltation of Jesus (cf. 5:9ff.).
261
E.g., “Great and marvelous are your works” (Pss 92:5; 111:2; 139:14; Tob 12:22;
cf. Exod 15:11; Job 42:3); “Righteous and true are your ways” (Deut 32:4; Ps [LXX]
144:17). Notable is the fact that each phrase recalls elements from the “songs” of Moses,
Exod 15:11 and Deut 32:4.
 2.2 Exegetical Analysis of Revelation’s Hymns 87

of God as they have been so far revealed in the text.262 Such a conclusion
can be reached on the basis of a consideration of the phrases as they appear
in the Old Testament, which function to characterize in positive terms
specific deeds of God. For example, the “marvelous works” of God in the
Psalms refer specifically to the creation of the human body (Ps 139:13),
and the protection of God’s people and destruction of their enemies (Ps
92:5–15; 111:1–10), while in Tobit they denote specifically the actions of
the angel Raphael to recover Tobias’ money, to bring together Tobias and
Sarah, and to heal Tobit’s blindness (Tob 12:22). Likewise, the “righteous
ways”263 of God refer in the Song of Moses to the actions of God vis-à-vis
God’s people as they are described in the rest of the song: deliverance
from the Pharaoh, sojourn in the desert, arrival in the promised land,
punishment for turning away from God, and the ultimate vindication of
God’s people (Deut 32:5–43).264
Thus, the phrases in the opening of the hymn in chapter 15 can be
reasonably thought to function as they do in the antecedent literature to
characterize specific acts of God. It follows, then, that “great and marvel-
ous works” and “righteous and true ways” more specifically characterize
those acts of God265 in Revelation that include both the judgments upon the
enemies of God, and the salvation for God’s chosen people. These would
most naturally refer to those events that have just transpired in the text (the
salvation of the 144,000 [14:1–5], as well as the judgments upon those
who worship the Beast [14:6–11] and others upon the earth [14:14–20]),
while also alluding perhaps to prior events in which the enemies of God
are judged266 and God’s chosen people are saved.267 It might also be argued
that these “works” and “ways” of God refer not only to those events that

262
The notion that this hymn is integrally related to what precedes it is a minority
opinion amongst scholars of Revelation, many of whom understand the hymn to consist
rather of a general reflection on the majesty of God. E.g., Roloff, Revelation, 187.
263
Here: αἱ ὁδοὶ … κρίσεις, which is practically synonymous with δίκαιαι αἱ ὁδοί.
264
Cf. Psalm (LXX) 144 in which the “righteous ways” of God (δίκαιος κύριος ἐν
πάσαις ταῖς ὁδοῖς αὐτοῦ) refer more generally to the acts of God “upholding those who
are falling” and “raising up those who are bowed down,” giving “food in due season,”
and “satisfying the desires of every living thing” (Ps [LXX] 144:13–21).
265
Of course, God does not directly carry out these deeds in the text, but is ultimately
responsible for them insofar as they occur under the auspices of God as the heavenly
sovereign. In other words, each of the actions in Revelation is an act of God insofar as
God is ultimately responsible for it.
266
E.g., the destruction unleashed by the opening of the seals (6:1–17), the sounding
of the trumpets (8:2–9:20), the destruction of the “great city” (11:11–13), and the “har-
vesting” of the earth (14:14–20), etc.
267
E.g., the “purchase” of the “saints” with the blood of the crucified Jesus (5:9), the
sealing of the 144,000 (7:1–8) and their salvation (14:1–5), and the salvation of those
who came out of the “great ordeal” (7:9–17; cf. 6:9–11), etc.
88 Chapter 2: The Hymns in Revelation

have so far occurred to this point in the narrative, but also point forward to
subsequent acts in the text.268
Thus, while “works” and “ways” refer to specific acts of God as depicted
in Revelation, their characterization as “great and marvelous” and “right-
eous and true,” respectively, constitutes a very positive evaluation of them.
So, for example, µεγάλα καὶ θαυµαστὰ τὰ ἔργα appears in the LXX and
early Jewish literature to characterize a wide range of acts of God worthy
of praise, e.g., the acts of God vis-à-vis Job,269 the entirety of the events of
Tobit, Sarah, and Tobias,270 and the re-telling of the story of God’s actions
with respect to the Israelites coming out of Egypt.271 Thus, the hymn
frames the specific acts of God as they are depicted in Revelation in terms
of past characterizations of God’s “great and marvelous deeds,” and by
doing so casts them in a particularly positive light. The characterization of
God’s “ways” as δίκαιαι καὶ ἀληθιναί functions similarly. While ἀληθινός
connotes a range of meanings ranging from “sincerity,” “truthfulness,”
and/or “correctness,” its precise sense in this hymn can be delimited on the
basis of its use elsewhere with terms denoting judgment, where it appears
to denote “appropriateness.”272 Thus, insofar as “ways” here effectively
refers to the judgments of God with respect to God’s enemies and people,
the qualifier ἀληθιναί affirms the appropriateness of these judgments. The
adjective δίκαιος carries a similar connotation as it is used in this hymn.
While the term regularly denotes a person who fulfills his/her obligations
with respect to the Law, or to what is expected given his/her place in
society, and to God as the one who most consistently accomplishes this,273
as it is used to qualify deeds and actions the term regularly denotes their
appropriateness and/or fairness.274 Thus, as it appears alongside ἀληθινός
to qualify the judgments of God, δίκαιαι likewise connotes a positive
evaluation of their appropriateness or correctness.
A final note on the opening of the hymn concerns the vocative designa-
tions of God, and their relation to the positive characterization of God’s
268
E.g., the pouring of bowls of wrath (16:1–21), the final judgments of the “Great
Whore” (17:1–18), the city of Babylon (18:1–24), the Beast and its followers (19:17–21),
Satan (20:1–3, 7–10), and those who warrant a “second death” (20:12–15).
269
Job [LXX] 42:3.
270
Tob 12:22.
271
Ep. Arist. 155. The terms are also used together to characterize God (Dan [Theod.]
9:4), and independently to characterize various acts of God in positive terms (Deut 7:18;
10:21; Pss [LXX] 110:2; 138:14).
272
E.g., John 8:16; cf. Sophocles, Oed. tyr. 501. Bultmann, “ἀληθινός,” TDNT 1:249–
250.
273
This is the most common sense of the term in the LXX and New Testament.
Schrenk, “δίκαιος,” TDNT 2:182–191.
274
E.g., John 5:30; 7:24; Rom 7:12; Eph 6:1; Phil 1:7; 4:8; Col 4:1; 2 Thess 1:5, 6;
2 Pet 1:13; 1 John 3:12.
 2.2 Exegetical Analysis of Revelation’s Hymns 89

“works” and “ways” in the hymn. Insofar as the titles κύριος and παντο-
κράτωρ connote sovereignty, their use as designations for God here (and
elsewhere in Revelation) conveys the notion of God’s sovereignty. 275 The
title βασιλεὺς τῶν ἐθνῶν, though it is not found elsewhere in Revelation or
in the New Testament, likewise connotes sovereignty. So much can be
surmised from the fact that βασιλεύς itself clearly connotes sovereignty,276
as well as the fact that the title “king of the nations” is used of God and of
earthly kings in the Old Testament and early Jewish literature in contexts
in which the concept of sovereignty is foregrounded.277 The use of titles
that denote the sovereignty of God in a context in which the “works” and
“ways” of God are being praised suggests that the “works” and “ways”
themselves are consequences of God’s sovereignty. As in several other
hymns in Revelation, the sovereignty of God is here highlighted and linked
to specific acts of God which entail punishment for God’s enemies and
salvation for God’s people.278 Put another way, the idea that God is
sovereign serves as the basis for the claim that these events will occur –
because God is ultimate sovereign over heaven and earth – God’s enemies
will be punished and God’s people will be saved.
The second part of the hymn in v. 4 is sung by the same (unknown)
group as in v. 3:
Lord, who will not fear and glorify your name? For you alone are just, and all nations
will come and worship before you, and your righteous judgments have been revealed.

The second part of the hymn opens with a rhetorical question (i.e., one for
which an answer is already presumed), a common feature of Old Testa-
ment and early Jewish hymns.279 The force of the question depends on the
notions of “fearing” and “glorifying” the name of the Lord. On one hand,
the notion of the “fear of God” is prominent in the Old Testament, carrying
a variety of meanings ranging from the “terror” associated with mighty
acts of God and the “fear” of God’s punishment, to “reverence” and “re-
spect” of God, which takes the form of worship of God and observance of
God’s laws.280 In the New Testament, however, the notion of the “fear of

275
Rev 4:8; 11:17; 16:7; 19:6; 21:22.
276
K. Schmidt, “βασιλεύς,” TDNT 1:564–579.
277
Ps 47:8; Josephus, Ant. 11.5; cf. Ps 96:10; Dan 4:1.
278
See Rev 7:10–12; 11:15–18; 12:10–12. For considerations of the relationship(s)
between the sovereignty of God and the Lamb and the events which transpire in the text,
see analyses of these hymns above.
279
Exod 15:11; Pss 2:1; 6:3; 8:4; 10:13; 11:3; 13:2; 14:4; 15:1; 22:1; 35:10; 89:6, 8;
113:5; 1 Sam 26:15; Isa 40:25; 46:5; Mic 7:18; 1QS 1:25; 3:23–24; 7:28–29; 10:5–6;
1QH 15:28; 1QM 10:8–9; 4Q381.
280
In fact, “respect” and “honor” can often be seen as derivatives of “fear,” “terror,”
and “anxiety.” That is, the “fear” associated with a particular event, person, or god, leads
90 Chapter 2: The Hymns in Revelation

God” has lost for the most part the sense of “terror” associated with the
acts of God or God’s punishment,281 and more consistently conveys the
notion of piety, respect, reverence, and honor for God, which is enacted by
means of adherence to God’s laws.282 Thus, “fear of the name of God”283 in
this hymn likely conveys the sense of piety and reverence towards God.284
On the other hand, insofar as “glorification” denotes the process of giving
δόξα, or the honor, praise, or value worthy of the stature of the object be-
ing “glorified”285 – human or divine – to “glorify the name of God” means
none other than to give God honor, praise, or prestige worthy of God’s
status.286 Thus, the concepts of “fearing” and “glorifying” God in this con-
text are complementary, if not practically synonymous.
Having clarified the meaning of these concepts generally, it remains to
consider their function as part of rhetorical questions in the hymn. The
form of this rhetorical question presumes an answer in the negative:287
nobody will not “fear” nor “glorify” the name of the Lord. In this way, the
question functions as a negative assertion. That is, the question serves as a
claim that everybody will eventually respect, revere, and honor God by
obeying God’s precepts and laws.
Such a claim can be understood within the broader context of the
opposition set forth in the text between God and the Lamb and Roman
Imperial authorities,288 the present circumstances in which worship of the
Imperial authorities is prevalent,289 and the denouement of Revelation in
which the Imperial authorities, and those who worship them, are ultimately
destroyed. The assertion that all will eventually worship God suggests that
the current reality is soon ending in which Imperial authorities compete

naturally to “reverence” and “respect” for that event, person, or god. Η. R. Balz, “φοβέω,
κτλ.,” TDNT 9:201–205.
281
Though see Luke 23:40. The “fear” of God in this sense seems to have been trans-
ferred to the acts of Jesus – his miracles, healings, the resurrection, etc. Balz, TDNT
9:208–212.
282
So, for example, the term is used in Acts to identify those (non-Jews) who partici-
pate in Jewish customs in the synagogue.
283
Fear of the “name” of the Lord can be understood as synecdoche for fear of God.
284
Contra Balz, who argues that the term as it appears throughout Revelation connotes
the “fear” of God’s power and God’s eschatological judgment. Balz, TDNT 9:212, n. 127.
285
This meaning is consistent throughout the LXX and New Testament.
286
Here again glorifying the “name” of God is synecdoche for glorifying God.
287
Cf. Rev 13:4.
288
Which is variously demonstrated in the text, e.g., by the claim that God and the
Lamb are the only true objects of worship over and against Imperial claims of sover-
eignty (4:8–11; 5:9–13), the antagonism between God and the Lamb and the “Dragon”
and “Beasts” which represent Imperial authority (e.g., chapters 12 and 13), and the
opposition between those who have received the mark of God with those who have
received the mark of the Beast (7:1–8; 13:16–17; 14:1–5).
289
As evidenced, for instance, in chapter 13.
 2.2 Exegetical Analysis of Revelation’s Hymns 91

with God and the Lamb for honor, praise, and worship. Put another way,
the claim that God and the Lamb alone will be worshipped and praised as
sovereigns (i.e., “feared” and “glorified”), intimates that the Imperial rivals
of God and the Lamb will eventually be eliminated, as will those who
worship them. Insofar as the destruction of the Roman Imperial authorities
and those who follow them constitutes an essential element of the
denouement of the book of Revelation (i.e., the destruction of the Dragon,
the Beast, and the Beast’s armies in Rev 19:17–21; 20:1–3, 7–10), this
hymn offers a proleptic view of the destruction that is about to take place.
The end of the hymn consists of a series of three ὅτι clauses that each
relate to the claim that all will fear and glorify God. The first of these
consists of two consecutive predicate adjectives: µόνος ὅσιος, which serve
as a justification for the claim that all will fear and glorify God. While on
their own these predicates appear in the Old Testament, and early Jewish
and Christian literature, this particular combination is a hapax legomenon.
As it is used in the LXX and non-biblical Greek sources to modify a per-
son or god, the term ὅσιος denotes the capacity to act according to what is
right and proper according to moral and religious customs.290 In this respect
it is found in the LXX to describe persons who are particularly faithful to
God: individuals (Ps [LXX] 11:2; 17:26; 31:6; 49:5), or the entire
community of Israel (Ps [LXX] 78:1; 131:9; 149:1). Used of God, the term
appears as a synonym of δίκαιος, denoting God’s capacity to act according
to what is appropriate (Deut 32:4; Ps [LXX] 144:17).291 As such, the term
in English more precisely means “just,” “pious,” “upright,” or “kind,”
which is in fact the way the term is often translated in modern editions.
Insofar as the adjective µόνος denotes uniqueness or exceptionality, 292 it
qualifies ὅσιος so as to convey the sense that God is uniquely “just.”
This claim, which constitutes yet another allusion to the “song” of
Moses insofar as the assertion that God is “just” (ὅσιος) likewise follows
claims about the “works” and “ways” of God (Deut 32:4), can be under-
stood to constitute yet another characterization of God’s “works” and
“ways.” The claim that God is “just” is not an abstract reflection on the
nature of God, but a claim that relates to God’s “works” and “ways” as
they are manifest in the text. In other words, the destruction of God’s
enemies and the salvation of God’s people is precisely what makes God
“just.”

290
Hauck, “ὅσιος,” TDNT 5:490–492.
291
Cf. Rev 16:5, where the two terms appear together as epithets for God.
292
Μόνος appears frequently in the Old Testament and early Christian literature to
denote the uniqueness and exceptionality of God. E.g., 2 Kgs 19:15, 19; Neh 9:6; Pss
[LXX] 71:18; 82:19; 85:10; Isa 2:11, 17; 26:13; 37:16, 20; 1 Esdr 8:25; 4 Ezra 8:7;
2 Macc 1:24–25; 7:37; Mark 2:7; Rom 16:27; 1 Tim 1:17; 6:15–16; Jude 25.
92 Chapter 2: The Hymns in Revelation

The claim that “God alone is just” can also be considered in light of the
portrayal of the Imperial authorities (i.e., the “beasts”) as “unjust” or
“impious” in the text. The claim that God is “uniquely just” stands in stark
contrast with the Imperial authorities who are characterized as receiving
their power from Satan (13:2, 4, 12), “blaspheming” (13:5–6), “making
war” (13:7), and “deceiving” (13:14). The contrast between God’s “just”
actions and the Imperial authorities’ “unjust” deeds thus serves as rationale
for the claim that all will eventually turn away from worshipping earthly
authorities to “fear” and “glorify” God alone.
The second ὅτι clause consists of the claim that “all nations will come
and worship before you,” a phrase that seems to be drawn directly from Ps
[LXX] 85:9. The meaning of the phrase “all nations” can be inferred from
its use elsewhere in Revelation to designate all those who stand outside of
the community,293 such that those who will “come and worship” can be
understood to be most generally those who are not at present coming and
worshipping God. This group might be more specifically identified, how-
ever, as those who have participated in Roman Imperial social, religious,
and economic systems from the fact that elsewhere in the text “all nations”
are precisely those who have “fornicated” with Babylon (14:8; 18:3, 23).
Likely included in this group are those “inhabitants of the earth” who in
chapter 13 were depicted worshipping the Dragon (13:4) and the Beasts
(13:8, 12), who can be understood similarly as participants in the religious
dynamics of the Imperial apparatus. Thus, the hymn is making the claim
that those who are presently participating in and worshipping the Imperial
apparatus will eventually come to worship God.
Thus, despite the fact that this clause stands grammatically in subordi-
nate position to the claim that all will fear and glorify God,294 it functions
not so much as a basis for the claim that all will fear and glorify God, but
as a reconfiguration of the claim. In other words, to say that all nations will
come and worship God is in practical terms a re-statement of the claim that
all will fear and glorify God. In this way, the clause stands not in subordi-
nate relationship to the prior claim, but parallel to it.
The final clause in the hymn consists of the third ὅτι clause: “your right-
eous judgments have been revealed.” On its own, the term δικαιώµατα is
ambiguous insofar as it used in the LXX and New Testament to denote
both “righteous judgments,” i.e., legally binding decrees or rulings,295 or
“righteous acts.”296 The context in which this term appears, however, as
well as the fact that these δικαιώµατα are said to “have been revealed”

293
E.g., Rev 12:5; 14:8; 18:3, 23.
294
Or perhaps subordinate to the first ὅτι clause.
295
Deut 4:1; 1 Kgs 3:28; Luke 1:6; Rom 1:32; 2:26; 5:16; 8:4.
296
Rev 19:8; Bar 2:17.
 2.2 Exegetical Analysis of Revelation’s Hymns 93

(ἐφανερώθησαν), delimits the semantic range of the term. That is, insofar
as no particular “decrees” or “rulings” have been issued thus far in the text,
and insofar as φανερόω is used throughout the New Testament to denote
specific acts that have been made manifest, the second of the two meanings
of the term can be assumed: δικαιώµατα refers to the righteous acts of God
as they have been made manifest in the text, which include both the judg-
ments upon God’s enemies as well as the salvation of God’s elect.297
Thus, the final ὅτι clause can be taken to function as did the first ὅτι
clause, as justification for the preceding claim: “all nations will come and
worship” God because God’s righteous actions have been revealed. Put
another way, the nations will come and worship God because of the judg-
ments that have been revealed upon God’s enemies and the salvation of
God’s people. Such a reading is supported not only by the fact that there is
grammatical parallelism between the clauses, i.e., a subordinate ὅτι clause
following a claim, but parallelism in terms of content. In each case, the
clause declares the “just” or “righteous” actions or character of God in
response to a claim that all will turn to God.
In summary, insofar as the hymn in chapter 15 occurs between the scene
of the 144,000 and the destruction upon the earth in chapter 14, and the
series of seven bowls of wrath in chapter 16, it demarcates these two
scenes. The hymn functions structurally as do several other hymns in
Revelation as a tool to distinguish one vision from another. At the same
time, the hymn functions theologically to frame the surrounding narrative
in a particular theological light. It not only identifies the preceding events
in the narrative (both those immediately preceding the hymn as well as
those occurring prior to them) as the “works” and “ways” of God, but re-
flects on these events in very positive terms as “great and wonderful” and
“righteous and true.” The hymn concludes with two very similar theo-
logical claims that all will eventually turn to God, i.e., “fear” and “glorify”
God’s name, as well as “come” and “worship” before God.

2.2.8 Rev 16:5–7

As is the case with each of the previous hymns in Revelation, the hymn in
chapter 16 is best understood in light of the surrounding narrative, which
in this case consists of seven angels taking “seven golden bowls full of the
wrath of God” and “pouring them out upon the earth” (16:1). Correspond-
ing to the pouring of the seven bowls are various forms of destruction upon

297
So, too, Swete, Apocalypse of St. John, 196; Bousset, Offenbarung, 394; Robert G.
Bratcher and Howard Hatton, A Handbook on the Revelation to John (New York: United
Bible Societies, 1993), 226.
94 Chapter 2: The Hymns in Revelation

the earth298 – also called “plagues” (15:1, 6, 8) – which constitute one stage
of the judgment sequence that comprises chapters 15–18. While some of
the destruction seems not to be directed at any parties in particular (e.g.,
the death of every “living creature in the sea” [16:3], rivers turning into
blood [16:4], the burning of “humankind” by the sun [16:8]), descriptions
of several of the plagues reveal that the objects of wrath are, not surprising-
ly, none other than those symbolic entities that represent the Roman Empire:
those who “bear the mark of the Beast and worship its image” (16:2),299 the
“throne of the Beast” (16:10),300 the Euphrates River (16:12),301 and the
“great city” (17:18).302 The destruction of various Imperial structures by
means of the bowls of wrath in chapter 16 is followed in chapters 17 and
18 by a more detailed description of the ultimate destruction of Rome
itself, which is here represented as a “Great Prostitute” (17:1) who is
“stripped, eaten, and burned” (17:16).303
The antiphonal hymn immediately follows the pouring of the third bowl,
and is sung by the “angel of the waters,” which can be taken to represent
one of the countless myriad of angels before the heavenly throne:304

298
Cf. the two preceding series of seven judgments upon the earth (6:1–17; 8:1–9:21;
11:15–19), in which only the first six of the seven events (opening of the seals; trumpet
blasts) correspond with a destructive event.
299
From chapter 13 it is clear that the “mark of the Beast” is a symbolic representa-
tion of the ability to participate in Imperial commerce. Thus, those with the mark of the
Beast are those who participate in Imperial economic systems.
300
The fifth bowl is poured upon the “throne of the Beast,” which is most often taken
to be a metaphor for a locus of Imperial authority, perhaps the Imperial cult in particular.
Cf. the “throne of Satan” in Rev 2:13.
301
The sixth bowl is poured upon the Euphrates River, which causes it to “dry up and
prepare the way for the kings from the East,” which most likely alludes to the belief that
Rome would be sacked by those from the East who must cross the Euphrates. E.g., Sib.
Or. 4.137–139. See Aune, “Excursus 16A: Rome and Parthia,” in Revelation, 2:891–894.
302
The final bowl unleashes “lightning, voices, thunderings, and a great earthquake,”
which causes the “great city” (which is later identified as Babylon) to be split into three
parts, and the “cities of the nations” to fall. This alludes to the destruction of Rome itself
along with the cities of the Empire. On Babylon/Rome as the “great city,” see Rev 17:18;
18:10, 16, 18–19, 21. See Prigent, Commentary, 476–477; Aune, Revelation, 2:882–903.
303
That the rape and murder of the “Great Prostitute” signifies the destruction of
Rome is clear from the fact that the prostitute is identified as “Babylon the Great” (17:5),
which is a thinly veiled allusion to Rome.
304
The depiction of an angel who has dominion over a particular sphere of the cosmos
is common in antecedent Jewish (esp. apocalyptic) literature, e.g., Dan 10:20; 1 En.
61:10; 69:22; 75:3; 2 En. 4–6; 19:1–4; Jub. 2:2; 1QH 1:8–13. Cf. Rev 7:1–2, in which
angels are depicted as having dominion over the “four winds,” and Rev 14:18, which
refers to an angel having authority over fire. See Aune, Revelation, 2:884–885.
 2.2 Exegetical Analysis of Revelation’s Hymns 95

You are righteous, the one who is and who was, the just one, because you have judged
these things. Because they shed the blood of the saints and the prophets, and it is blood
that you have given them to drink; they deserve it.

The initial strophe takes the form of second-person praise of God (the Du-
Stil hymnic form), beginning with a series of epithets that emphasize both
the eternal nature of God (ὁ ὢν καὶ ὁ ἦν), and the belief that God is
“righteous” (δίκαιος) and “just” (ὅσιος).305 While the first epithet (δίκαιος)
appears as a predicate of God only here, insofar as it denotes the capacity
for fair judgment306 and often functions practically as a synonym for
ὅσιος,307 it can be understood here to denote proper and just behavior as an
aspect of God’s sovereign character. The second and third epithets are used
elsewhere in Revelation to highlight aspects of God’s sovereignty, 308 and
can be understood to function likewise here.
These acclamations confirming the sovereignty of God are justified (as
are so many of the hymnic acclamations in Revelation) on the basis of a
causal ὅτι clause, which in this case consists of the claim that God has
“judged these things” or “judged in this way” (ὅτι ταῦτα ἔκρινας).309 Insofar
as the verb κρίνω appears frequently in Revelation to denote God acting to
destroy God’s enemies,310 it can be understood here in coordination with
the demonstrative pronoun ταῦτα to represent the destruction caused by the
pouring of the “bowls of wrath.” That is, κρίνω clearly denotes “judgment”
while ταῦτα suggests that the judgment referred to is that which is occur-
ring in the surrounding context. Thus, the destruction caused by the “bowls

305
That God is here addressed can be inferred from the fact that each of the epithets is
used elsewhere in Revelation only to refer to God.
306
Elsewhere in Revelation the term is used to characterize the actions (i.e., “ways”)
of God (15:3; 16:7; 19:2). See Schrenk, TDNT 2:174–191.
307
The terms appear to function as synonyms in Deut 32:4; Pss. Sol. 10:5; 1 Clem.
14:1.
308
On ὁ ὢν καὶ ὁ ἦν, see comments on the hymns in chapters 11 and 15 above. On
ὅσιος, see notes on the hymn in chapter 15.
309
Either translation is warranted by the grammatical construction, in which ταῦτα
can be taken as the direct object of the verb κρίνω, or as an adverb.
310
E.g., in Rev 6:10, the term is equated with the process of “avenging our blood on
the inhabitants of the earth,” which amounts to the destruction of the inhabitants of the
earth (cf. 19:2). In 18:8 and 19:2, the act of God “judging” consists of God’s destruction
of Babylon (cf. 18:10). In 19:11ff., “judging” seems to consist of the “rider on the white
horse” making war on “the nations” and destroying the “Beast” and the “kings of the
earth and their armies.” The term is also used to refer to the dual process of the destruc-
tion of God’s enemies and the act of protecting God’s people, as for example, in 11:18,
where “judging” coincides with the coming “wrath” of God. It is further described as the
process of “rewarding” those in the community and “destroying” God’s enemies. Thus, in
20:12ff., the term denotes the process of the final destruction of God’s enemies (i.e., the
“second death” of those whose names were not written in the “Book of Life”), and
implicitly the salvation of those whose names were found in it.
96 Chapter 2: The Hymns in Revelation

of wrath” in chapter 16 is characterized in the hymn (as is destruction

elsewhere in Revelation) as God’s judgment upon God’s enemies, and
lauded as evidence that God’s sovereign rule is righteous, eternal, and just.
The conclusion of the strophe consists of another causal ὅτι clause:
“because they shed the blood of the saints and the prophets, you have
given them blood to drink – they deserve it.” This final clause is related to
what precedes it insofar as it constitutes a further clue as to who exactly is
the object of God’s punishment, as well as an explanation as to why their
destruction represents the actions of a “righteous” and “just” God. The
clue as to the identity of those who have been judged by God can be
inferred on the basis of the fact that they are said to have “shed the blood
of the saints and the prophets.” Insofar as this expression is a euphemistic
way of saying that they have killed those in the community to whom John
has addressed his Apocalypse (“saints and prophets” are terms used else-
where in Revelation to denote members of the community, while “pouring
out blood” appears in the Old Testament and early Jewish literature to re-
fer to murder311), “they” can be identified with those who are consistently
depicted throughout Revelation as persecuting and killing followers of the
Lamb: various entities of the Roman Empire.312
The hymn then confirms that because they have killed members of the
community, God will in turn kill them, which is described in similarly
euphemistic terms as God giving them “blood to drink.”313 Such an image
seems both to allude to the blood that results from the second and third
bowls being poured on the sea (16:3) and into the rivers (16:4), respective-
ly, and to serve as a response to the cry of the martyrs under the altar
(6:10) who question when their blood will be avenged.314 At any rate, it
can be understood in terms of the principle of lex talionis, in which the
punishment meted out for a crime is equal to the crime itself. Such a prin-
ciple makes the most sense out of the final words in the strophe, in which
the objects of God’s destruction are finally said to “deserve” it (ἄξιοί

311
E.g., Gen 9:6; Deut 19:10; Jer 7:6; 1 En. 9:1; T. Levi 16:3; T. Zeb. 2:2; Pss. Sol.
8:20; Sib. Or. 3.311, 320.
312
Such a reading makes sense in light of the reading of various entities of the Roman
Empire as the objects of God’s destruction in descriptions of the “seven bowls.”
313
E.g., Isa 49:26. Admittedly, this expression is used more often in the Old Testa-
ment, and one other time in Revelation (17:6), to represent killing rather than dying. That
is, “drinking blood” refers to an image of a killer drinking the blood of a victim (Num
23:24; 2 Sam 23:17; 1 Chr 11:19; Jer 46:10; Ezek 39:17–21). Because of this, it would be
possible to read the clause as an expression of the belief that the “holy ones and proph-
ets” will be given “blood to drink” (i.e., to kill), or to suppose that the expression is not
to be taken figuratively but refers to God’s enemies literally drinking blood. Charles,
Revelation of St. John, 2:123.
314
Prigent, Commentary, 467.
 2.2 Exegetical Analysis of Revelation’s Hymns 97

εἰσιν).315 In other words, the hymn expresses the belief that because the
Roman Empire has shed the blood of those in the community, they deserve
to have their own blood shed. Such an explanation for the destruction of
God’s enemies further justifies the claim made earlier in the hymn that
such punishment constitutes the actions of a “righteous” and “just” God.
An antiphonal response immediately follows the initial strophe. De-
pending on the translation, it is said to be sung either by an unidentified
identity “from the altar,” or by the altar itself. The issue is whether one
supplies a direct object for ἤκουσα, in which case τοῦ θυσιαστηρίου is
understood to be a partitive genitive (i.e., “[someone] from the altar”), or
takes τοῦ θυσιαστηρίου itself to be the direct object of the verb.316 Com-
mentators are fairly divided on this issue, with those who suppose that an
unnamed entity is singing from the altar most often suggesting that it is the
voice of one of the martyrs depicted under the altar in 6:9–11.317 At any
rate, the antiphonal response itself consists of an affirmative response of
the preceding statements:
Yes, Lord God Almighty, true and just are your judgments.

That the antistrophe consists first of all as an affirmative response to the

preceding strophe is made clear by the interjection ναί, which functions
here and elsewhere in Revelation as a formal affirmation of the preceding
statement (1:7; 14:13; 22:20). As an affirmative hymnic response, it func-
tions analogously to ἀµήν.318 The epithets that follow it (κύριε ὁ θεὸς ὁ
παντοκράτωρ), like those that occur in this precise form in prior hymns
(4:8; 11:17; 15:3; cf. 21:22), likewise convey the sovereign attributes of
God, and thus also reflect the claim of God’s sovereignty at the beginning
of the preceding strophe.319

315
Ἄξιος denotes equivalence or correspondence between two entities, so that the use
of ἄξιος in the predicative suggests that the subject is worthy or deserving of something.
See, e.g., Josephus, J.W. 5.408; Matt 10:10; Luke 10:7; 12:48; 23:15, 41; Acts 23:29;
25:11, 25; 26:31; Rom 1:32; 1 Tim 5:18; 6:1. Cf. Rev 3:4, in which those who have not
“soiled their clothes” are said to be “worthy” to walk with the risen Christ who is clothed
in white garments.
316
Cf. Rev 9:13, where a similar construction prompts the question of whether a voice
is coming from the altar or from someone near the altar.
317
E.g., Jörns, Evangelium, 135ff; Bousset, Offenbarung, 396. The notion that one of
the martyrs under the altar would respond to the hymnic claim that God will “give blood
to drink” to those who have killed the followers of the Lamb (i.e., the martyrs) makes
some sense in light of the fact that the martyrs had earlier cried out asking when God
would avenge their blood (6:10).
318
Cf. Rev 5:14, where ἀµήν similarly concludes an antiphonal response. For evi-
dence of the interchangeability of ἀµήν and ναί, see Matt 23:26; Luke 11:51; 2 Cor 1:20;
Acts Thom. 121.
319
I.e., through the use of epithets connoting sovereignty.
98 Chapter 2: The Hymns in Revelation

The claim that God’s “judgments” (κρίσεις) are “true” and “just” con-
veys the sense that the destruction of God’s enemies as depicted in chapter
16 is wholly proper and appropriate conduct. A reading of the verse in this
way depends on an understanding that the term κρίσεις most often con-
notes punitive judgment.320 Punitive judgment is, moreover, the only sense
of the word as it is used in Revelation.321 For instance, the “hour of judg-
ment” refers in Rev 14:7 to the destruction unleashed on behalf of God by
the angels in 14:8ff., while in 18:10 and 19:2 the term refers to God’s
destruction of Babylon as it is depicted in chapter 18. From this it can be
inferred that in this hymn κρίσεις refers in particular to the destruction
depicted in chapter 16 in the form of the seven bowls.
Thus, to say that these judgments are “just” and “true” is to affirm the
appropriateness of the destruction. This is in fact the sense of these adjec-
tives as they appear in the LXX and New Testament to qualify judgments.
As such, the final hymnic clause is practically a restatement of the claim in
the first strophe that God is “righteous” (δίκαιος) and “just” (ὅσιος) on
account of the fact that God has judged such things (16:5).
In summary, inasmuch as the hymn in chapter 16 appears between the
third and the fourth “bowls of wrath,” it does not function structurally as
do so many other hymns in Revelation to distinguish one scene from an-
other. However, just like each of the preceding hymns in Revelation, this
hymn does constitute a theological reflection on the surrounding narrative.
In the initial strophe, God is identified as the source of the destruction
taking place by means of the “seven bowls” (i.e., God has “judged” such
things), and is praised for this as the eternal sovereign (δίκαιος … ὁ ὢν καὶ
ὁ ἦν … ὅσιος). By means of a causal clause, the Roman Empire is then
identified as the principal target of God’s destruction. Clues of this exist in
the descriptions of the “seven bowls” themselves, and insofar as they are
said to have “shed the blood of the saints and the prophets,” a clear allu-
sion to the various Imperial identities depicted elsewhere in Revelation as
responsible for the deaths of those in the community. Their punishment is
then described in similarly metaphorical terms as being given “blood to
drink,” which is explicitly acknowledged to be a fitting punishment given
the nature of their crime.
The antistrophe constitutes an affirmation of the theological claims
made in the strophe. That is, the destruction of the various Roman Imperial
entities is indicated to be God’s “judgments” upon them, “judgments”
which are considered to be appropriate insofar as they are characterized as
“true” and “just.”

320
Büchsel, “κρίνω,” TDNT 3:921–942.
321
Rev 14:7; 18:10; 19:2.
 2.2 Exegetical Analysis of Revelation’s Hymns 99

2.2.9 Rev 19:1–8

The final series of hymns occurs at the beginning of chapter 19, and usher
in the conclusion of Revelation, in which the final battles between God and
God’s enemies take place, and in which the New Jerusalem and all that is
in it comes down from heaven to inaugurate the reign of God and the Lamb
on earth. Insofar as elements of the hymn relate both to what immediately
precedes the hymn, i.e., the destruction of Babylon (17:1–18:24), and to
those final events which follow the hymn, i.e., the destruction of the Roman
Empire and Satan, the judgment of the dead, and the coming of the New
Jerusalem (19:9–22:7), it is necessary to consider in more detail the nature
of each of these surrounding narratives.
Following the conclusion of the hymn in chapter 16, the remaining
“bowls of wrath” are poured, and with them come devastating consequences
upon the earth, i.e., God’s “judgment” upon God’s enemies (16:8–21).
This destruction is followed by a vision in chapter 17 of a harlot seated
upon a “scarlet beast,” drunk with the “blood of the saints … and witnesses
to Jesus,” holding a cup full of the “impurities of her fornication” with the
“kings of the earth,” with the name “Babylon” written on her forehead
(17:1–6). The image of such a woman, whose drunkenness, impurity, and
gaudy adornment presents a clear contrast with the “Woman clothed with
the Sun” in Rev 12:1–6, constitutes yet another vilified caricature of
Roman Imperial authority, as the harlot here surely represents the city of
Rome itself. Such a conclusion can be reached on the basis of the fact that
Babylon was a popular cipher for Rome around the time of the composi-
tion of Revelation,322 as well as several allusions in the text, none as clear
as the claim that the woman sits on a seven-headed beast, whose heads are
said to represent “seven mountains” and “seven kings” (17:9), which are
widely believed to be references to the seven hills upon which Rome was
built, and the seven emperors who ruled Rome up to the time of the
composition of Revelation.323

322
1 Pet 5:13; 2 Bar. 11:1ff.; 67:7; Sib. Or. 5.143, 159; cf. Tertullian, Marc. 3.13;
Eusebius, Hist. eccl. 2.15.2.
323
See Yarbro Collins, “Dating the Apocalypse of John,” BR 26 (1981): 33–45; J.
Christian Wilson, “The Problem of the Domitianic Date of Revelation,” NTS 39 (1993):
587–605; Bauckham, Climax of Prophecy, 407–452; Prigent, Commentary, 492–494.
Associations with Rome can also be made on the basis of the description of Babylon in
chapter 18. For example, the designation of Babylon as a “great city,” full of wealth
(18:7, 14, 16), and unrivaled (18:18), as well as descriptions of the merchants of the earth
becoming wealthy on account of the “power of her luxury” (18:3, 9, 15, 19), seems to
suggest the capital city. Yarbro Collins, “The Political Perspective,” 241–256; Bauckham,
Climax of Prophecy, 347ff.; Prigent, Commentary, 505–509.
100 Chapter 2: The Hymns in Revelation

The description of “Babylon the Whore” in chapter 17 sets the stage for
chapter 18, in which the “Fall of Babylon” is described.324 This depiction,
whose contents and style evoke the depiction of the fall of Tyre in Ezekiel
27 and 28,325 and several details of which further confirm the identification
of Babylon as Rome itself,326 consists of a dual proclamation of its destruc-
tion (18:1–8), followed by the lamentations of those who suffer as a result
(the kings [18:9–10], merchants [18:11–17], and the sailors [18:18–20]),
and a vision of a great millstone being thrown into the sea to symbolize the
fall of the city (18:21–23).
The laments of those who mourn the destruction of Babylon in chapter
18, however, give way to hymnic adulations in chapter 19 from those who
celebrate its demise (19:1–10). Consequently, much of the hymn in chapter
19 relates to the destruction of Babylon in the preceding chapters. At the
same time, the hymn also points towards the final chapters in which the
final defeat of the heavenly enemies of God, and the culmination of God’s
rule upon the earth, is depicted (19:1–22:5). As such, these events must be
considered before evaluating the contents of the hymn itself.
The final defeat of God’s heavenly adversaries begins with the advent
of the “rider on the white horse,”327 who leads a heavenly army against the
“Beast” and his armies (19:11–19), captures the Beast along with the “false
prophet” (i.e., the “second Beast” from 13:11–18 [19:20]), and destroys the
armies of the Beast (19:21). Insofar as these creatures were shown in
chapter 12 to represent various elements of the Roman Imperial apparatus,
their defeat here can be taken to represent the final stage of the demise of
the Empire itself, and the culmination of the process of its annihilation.
The symbolic destruction of the Roman Imperial apparatus is followed
in chapter 20 by the description of the destruction of the Dragon (whose
identity as the mythical enemy of God, i.e., “the ancient serpent, the Devil,
Satan,” is reiterated [20:2; cf. 12:9]), who is described as being bound and
thrown into a pit for 1,000 years, then freed for a time, and finally thrown
into the “lake of fire and sulfur” (20:1–3, 7–10). The portrayal of the
demise of the Dragon is commingled with the “judgment of the dead,”

324
Though the ultimate demise of Babylon the Whore is presaged in chapter 17, as the
angel who describes the harlot says, “Come, I will show you the judgment of the great
whore who is seated on many waters …” (17:1).
325
Vanhoye, “L’utilisation du livre d’Ezéchiel dans l’Apocalypse,” 436–476; Jean-
Pierre Ruiz, Ezekiel in the Apocalypse: The Transformation of Prophetic Language in
Revelation 16:17–19:10 (Frankfurt: Peter Lang, 1989), 518ff.
326
E.g., descriptions of the great wealth and luxury of the city (18:11–19, 23) clearly
suggest Rome. See Prigent, Commentary, 506–511.
327
Most commentators identify this “rider” as the Messiah, on account of the fact that
he “judges” and “makes war” (19:11), common apocalyptic aspects of the Messiah in
contemporary Judaism. See Isa 11:4; Pss. Sol. 17:23–44; Tg. Isa. 11:1–6; 4QpIsa 8–10.
 2.2 Exegetical Analysis of Revelation’s Hymns 101

which includes both the “coming to life” of those martyrs who had not
worshipped the Beast (20:4–6), and the “second death” of those whose
names were not written in the Book of Life (20:11–15). These scenes in
chapter 20, in which God’s enemies are finally and ultimately destroyed
and those martyrs whom God has redeemed are given new life, sets the
stage for the final vision in Revelation, the coming of the “New Jerusalem”
from heaven unto earth in chapter 21 and 22.
This final vision in Revelation actually consists of three distinct scenes
in which the New Jerusalem is described: (1) the passing away of the “first
earth” to make room for the New Jerusalem, inaugurated by the “one
seated upon the throne” (21:1–8); (2) a catalogue of various elements of
the heavenly Jerusalem (21:9–27); and (3) a description of the new city in
terms that recall the prophecy of the new temple in Ezekiel 47, and the
creation of the world in Genesis 2. Taken together, these three scenes con-
stitute the culmination of the narrative and theological trajectories in
Revelation, in which the enemies of God are completely vanquished, and
in which the “servants” of God live peacefully and in harmony under the
eternal, sovereign rule of God and the Lamb. These scenes are followed by
a brief epilogue that functions as a formal conclusion of the text (22:6–21).
The final hymn, which occurs immediately after the final destruction of
Babylon, and prior to the manifestation of the heavenly city of Jerusalem
on earth, consists of five distinct strophes (19:1–8). As such, it constitutes
the longest hymnic section in Revelation, a grand finale of sorts.328 The
first strophe is said to resemble “something like the loud voice of a great
multitude in heaven” (19:1). While many commentators assume that the
source of the hymn is the “loud voice” of the multitude of angels before
the throne who sang prior hymns (5:11–12; 7:11; 12:10),329 the Great
Multitude here appears to evoke instead the Great Multitude identified in
chapter 7 as “those who have come out of the great ordeal” (7:14). In other
words, the first strophe is sung by those martyrs who have died at the
hands of the Romans during the time of the eschatological crisis.330 The
contents of the hymn are as follows:
Hallelujah! Salvation, glory and power belong to our God. For his judgments are true and
righteous: He has judged the Great Prostitute who destroyed the inhabitants of the earth
with her fornication, and he has avenged the blood of his servants shed by her.

Each of the hymnic units in chapter 19 begins with the exclamation, “Hal-
lelujah!” This exclamation, which is simply a Greek transliteration of the
Hebrew halĕlû-yāh meaning “Praise God,” was associated particularly in
the Old Testament and early Jewish literature with hymns. This is evident
328
Jörns, Evangelium, 144, 159; Deichgräber, Gotteshymnus und Christushymnus, 56.
329
E.g., Aune, Revelation, 3:1024; Boring, Revelation, 192.
330
See notes on the hymn in Revelation 7 above.
102 Chapter 2: The Hymns in Revelation

by the fact that it appears in several Psalms,331 and is found in a doxology

in Apoc. Mos. 43:4, as well as the fact that it is associated with hymnic
singing in Tob 13:18 and 3 Macc 7:13. It seems to have functioned as an
introductory or concluding formula, as is suggested by the fact that it ap-
pears most often either in the introduction or the conclusion in the hymns
in which it occurs.332 This is perhaps a result of the fact that the term orig-
inated as a liturgical formula.333 So, too, does the term appear (however
infrequently, and not elsewhere in the New Testament) in early Christian
texts, most often as part of a concluding hymn or doxology. 334 Thus, the
appearance of ἁλληλουιά at the beginning of several strophes, and once at
the end of a strophe, all as part of the final hymnic sequences of the text
can be understood in such terms, both to begin and end the strophes, and
also to signal that these hymnic elements are the last in the text. In theo-
logical terms, the acclamation orients each of the hymnic units towards the
praise of God.
Following this exclamation is a clause in which various attributes are
said to be the prerogative of God: σωτηρία, δόξα, and δύναµις. While the
form of the strophe bears affinities with previous doxologies (4:9; 5:13–
14; 7:12), the combination of attributes included in the doxology is unique.
As they do in previous hymns, δόξα, and δύναµις here connote aspects of
the sovereignty of God, which is repeatedly and variously proclaimed
(along with the transfer of sovereign power to the Lamb) throughout the
text. Insofar as “salvation” appears elsewhere in Revelation to connote
“rescue” and/or “deliverance” from a dire situation (7:10; 12:10), and only
ever connotes this in early Christian literature, it can be assumed to mean
as much here. Taken together, these prerogatives simultaneously convey
the sovereignty of God and the fact that God has rescued God’s people.
The identity of the singers of this strophe relates to a consideration of
its contents and function. Insofar as the hymn is sung by martyrs who have
come out of the “great ordeal,” acclamations of the sovereignty and salva-
tion of God can be taken to highlight God’s power to rescue God’s people,
which in this case refers to the suffering and deaths that resulted from
persecution at the hands of the Roman Imperial authorities. That is, the

331
Both in the Masoretic Text and in transliterated form in the LXX.
332
Though the term is excised at the conclusion of all but one Psalm in the LXX. Cf.
3 Macc 7:13, in which the priests and multitude seem to conclude a ceremony by “shout-
ing the Hallelujah,” and Apoc. Mos. 43:4, where the term functions as the introduction of
the concluding doxology. Cf. PGM 7.271 in which the term appears at the conclusion of a
Jewish magical papyrus.
333
See Johannes Hempel, “Hallelujah,” IDB 2:514–515.
334
E.g., many of the Odes of Solomon end with “Hallelujah.” See also Tertullian, Or.
27; the Ethiopic version of Apostolic Tradition 26; Jerome, In Ps. 104; Augustine, In Ps.
106.
 2.2 Exegetical Analysis of Revelation’s Hymns 103

martyrs who are portrayed as having suffered and died at the hands of
Rome are the very ones proclaiming the fact that God has delivered them
from such peril.
The following clause (“true and righteous are your judgments”) is a
verbatim repetition of a clause from the previous hymn (16:7b) and, as in
the previous hymn, highlights the validity and/or appropriateness of God’s
“judgments.”335 While in the previous hymn “judgments” are reasonably
thought to refer to the destruction unleashed upon the enemies of God by
means of the pouring of the seven “bowls of wrath” in the surrounding nar-
rative, here the “judgments” likewise refer to the destruction taking place
in the surrounding narrative, i.e., the ultimate destruction of Babylon.
That God’s “true and righteous judgments” refers to the destruction of
Babylon is made clear by the ὅτι clause that immediately follows, in which
God’s judgment of the Great Prostitute is explicitly identified as the basis
for such a claim (ὅτι ἔκρινεν τὴν πόρνην τὴν µεγάλην). Insofar as the
Great Prostitute refers to the city of Babylon, which is itself a symbolic
representation of the city of Rome, the martyrs are thus praising and
affirming in this hymn the appropriateness of God’s destruction of Rome.
The hymn goes further to identify the Great Prostitute as the one who
has “destroyed” the earth with her “fornication.” Given the fact that the
Great Prostitute is a symbolic representation of the city of Rome, this char-
acterization functions to reiterate the belief that Rome both literally and
figuratively destroys people,336 i.e., leads them astray by requiring their
participation in corruptible practices, and ultimately kills them. Such a
reading depends on an understanding of the multivalency of the word
φθείρω which, like the emphatic form διαφθείρω that appears in 11:18,
means both: (1) “to destroy utterly” in the sense of physical annihilation,
and (2) “to corrupt morally.”337 Insofar as Rome and its supporters are
accused of each of these actions elsewhere in the text, the clause thus
reiterates the literal and figurative destructiveness of Rome and its allies.
The hymn goes further to identify πορνεία as the means by which Rome
manifests its destructiveness.338 The term most often denotes sexual im-
propriety (adultery, prostitution, licentiousness, etc.),339 and is thus an apt
descriptor of a Great Prostitute. At the same time, the term is sometimes
found in the LXX in the context of a metaphorical description of the
relationship between God and God’s people as a marriage relationship, in
which cases God’s people are described as a “prostitute” (πόρνη) and
335
See notes on the hymns in Revelation 16.
336
As in 11:18, “the earth” appears to function here as a metonym for people of the
earth.
337
See notes on the hymns in Revelation 11.
338
I.e., by the use of a dative of means.
339
Hauck and Schultz, “πόρνη, κτλ.,” TDNT 6:579–595.
104 Chapter 2: The Hymns in Revelation

πορνεία connotes their infidelity vis-à-vis God.340 The term is used to

characterize people whose practices indicate a lack of complete allegiance
to God, especially those that include assimilation to foreign religious
customs.341 The characterization of the πορνεία of Rome in this hymn can
be understood in this light, as participation in Roman Imperial social,
political, economic, and religious structures is consistently and thoroughly
condemned throughout Revelation.342 In other words, to say that Rome has
“destroyed” (i.e., killed and corrupted) the inhabitants of the earth through
fornication, is to say that Rome destroys people insofar as they participate
in its various structures.343
The strophe concludes with the claim that God has “avenged (ἐξεδίκη-
σεν) the blood of his servants shed by her.” An interpretation of the claim
in its entirety hinges on an understanding of the term ἐκδικέω. While the
word can be taken generally to mean “to punish” and/or “to execute
justice,” it seems in this case to mean more specifically “to punish” in
response to, and in accordance with, the crime committed. So much can be
inferred from the likelihood that the conjunction καί equates the entire
clause with the preceding claim that God has “judged the Great Prostitute
who destroyed the earth with her fornication.” That is, the final clause
seems to be an explanation of the previous claim that God has destroyed
(i.e., “judged”) that which has destroyed God’s people: such an act con-
stitutes God’s avenging their blood. Such a reading is further suggested by
the fact that this is often the meaning of ἐκδικέω and its cognates in the
LXX and early Jewish literature.344
Thus, insofar as the “blood of the servants” here functions as a metonym
for the deaths of those who follow the Lamb,345 and the prepositional

340
Hauck and Schultz, TDNT 6:587.
341
E.g., offering sacrifices to other gods (Isa 57:7–13; Jer 3:6; Ezek 16:19ff.), seeking
oracles from other gods (Hos 4:12–14), observing foreign festivals (Hos 2:13), and wor-
shiping other gods (Jer 2:23; 3:1ff.; Ezek 16:15ff.; 23:5ff.). Cf. Exod 34:16; Lev 17:7;
20:5; Num 14:33; Deut 31:16; Judg 2:17; 8:27; 2 Kgs 9:22; 1 Chr 5:25; 2 Chr 21:11, 13.
342
Rev 2:13–17, 18–25; 9:4; 13:1–10, 11–18; 14:8–12; 17:2–18; 18:3–24; 19:17–21.
The condemnation of these structures is conveyed insofar as the refusal to participate in
such structures is glorified, as represented for example by taking the “mark of the Lord”
on the forehead (7:3; 14:1ff.).
343
So much is also conveyed through the use of the same metaphor in Rev 14:8; 17:2,
5; 18:3.
344
Schrenk, “ἐκδικέω,” TDNT 2:442–446.
345
That “blood” refers here to death can be inferred from the fact that the term is used
in Rev 6:10 to refer to the deaths of the martyrs under the altar. In fact, the use of
“blood” as a metonym for death is common in the Old Testament and early Jewish
literature. See TDOT 3:241–243; Louw-Nida, §§ 23.107; 56:20. At the same time, δοῦλοι
frequently refers to followers of the Lamb in Revelation and in early Christian literature
(e.g., Rev 1:1; 2:20; 7:3; 22:3, 6). See Rengstorf, “δοῦλος,” TDNT 2:273–279.
 2.2 Exegetical Analysis of Revelation’s Hymns 105

phrase ἐκ χειρὸς αὐτῆς identifies the Great Prostitute, i.e., Rome, as

responsible for their deaths, this clause makes clear that the destruction of
Rome constitutes God’s retribution upon it in light of its misdeeds against
God’s people.346 And, insofar as it is related grammatically to the claim
that God has “judged the Great Prostitute” (19:2b) by the conjunction καί,
this final hymnic clause likewise functions as a justification for the claim
that God’s “judgments” are “true” and “just.” That God has destroyed the
very entity that has destroyed God’s people is evidence for the claim that
God rightly punishes those who deserve it. Moreover, the hymn serves as a
fitting response to the question posed by the very same persons (i.e., the
martyrs killed by the Romans during the eschatological conflict) in Rev
6:10 as to when God was going to “avenge” their deaths.
The first strophe is immediately followed by another hymn which
appears to be sung by the same group that sung the previous strophe347:
Hallelujah! Her smoke rises forever and ever.

The antistrophe begins as did the first strophe with the acclamation “Hal-
lelujah!”348 and likewise signals that the hymn consists first and foremost
of praise to God. The “smoke” surely refers to the smoke rising from the
decimated city of Babylon (i.e., Rome), the burning of which was depicted
in Rev 18:8, 18, and from those inhabitants of it who received the mark of
the Beast, whose “torments” were said to be burning in 14:11. The notion
that God’s punishment consists of eternal fire is drawn from various bibli-
cal sources,349 while the particular image of smoke rising eternally from a
city decimated by God seems to be drawing from Isaiah, who prophesied
that the smoke from the ashes of the ruined city of Edom would “rise
forever” (Isa 34:8–10). The notion that the punishment of God’s enemies is
unending (cf. Rev 19:20; 20:10, 14–15) stands in contrast with the claim

346
The punishment of death for the crime of murder, which falls generally under the
rubric of lex talionis, can be understood specifically in terms of regulations in the LXX
in which death is required for those who shed the blood of another (Gen 9:5–6; Num
35:33; Josh 2:19; 2 Sam 1:16; 1 Kgs 2:33, 37; Ezek 33:4; Matt 27:25). The notion that
God is ultimately responsible for carrying out this punishment (i.e., “avenging the blood”)
likewise derives from the Old Testament (Pss 9:12; 72:14; cf. Deut 32:43; 2 Kgs 9:7).
347
While a new subject is not identified, the third-person plural verb and the fact that
the hymn is said to be sung “a second time,” each suggest this antistrophe is sung by the
same group that sung the previous strophe.
348
Some commentators consider this “Hallelujah” to conclude the previous strophe.
E.g., Deichgräber, Gotteshymnus und Christushymnus, 56–57. While “Hallelujah” can in
fact function to conclude a hymn, this seems not to be the case in this instance, as the
following antistrophe appears instead to conclude this hymnic sequence. Charles, Revel-
ation of St. John, 2:120; Jörns, Evangelium, 150; Aune, Revelation, 3:1026.
349
E.g., Isa 66:24; Jer 4:4; 17:27; Ezek 20:48; Mark 9:43//Matt 18:8; Mark 9:48; Matt
25:41.
106 Chapter 2: The Hymns in Revelation

that the suffering of the people of God and the followers of the Lamb is
only temporary. 350
This hymnic sequence is concluded by the 24 Elders and the four Living
Creatures, who proclaim:
Amen. Hallelujah!

This brief hymnic unit brings the entire hymnic sequence to a close, as
each of the terms appears in the LXX and early Jewish literature to con-
clude hymns,351 and these vocalists appear elsewhere in Revelation to con-
clude hymnic sequences (5:14; 7:11–12; 11:17–18). Insofar as the use of
ἀµήν as an interjection signals approval or acceptance of what has immedi-
ately preceded it, and in this way functions synonymously with ναί,352 it
can be understood here to confirm the sovereignty of God and the worthi-
ness of praising God in light of God’s destruction of Rome. Insofar as
“praise God” is the literal rendering of the Hebrew “Hallelujah,” this term
affirms that God is worthy to be praised, the basis for which appears to be
God’s righteous and appropriate punishment of Rome.
The next strophe is said to be sung by a “voice from the throne”:
Praise our God, all his servants, [and] all those who fear him, small and great.

The vague identification of a “voice from the throne,” which recalls previ-
ous hymns whose vocalists are not clearly identified (11:15; 12:10; 16:7),
allows for conjecture as to its source. A “voice from the throne” speaks in
16:7 and 21:3, but there are no clues as to the identity of the voice in these
cases. As such, the voice could be taken to represent one of the Elders,
Creatures, or myriad of angels surrounding the throne (cf. 4:8, 11; 5:9–14;
7:11–12; 11:16–18), the martyrs in heaven (cf. 7:10; 15:3–4), or the throne
itself (cf. 16:7). It would seem that only the voice of God would be ex-
cluded from consideration on the basis of the unlikelihood that God would
command God’s servants to praise “our God.”353 Whatever the precise
identity, the fact that the voice comes “from the throne” may be taken to
indicate that there is divine authorization to sing the hymn.354
350
E.g., Rev 2:2–3, 10; 3:10; 6:9–11; 7:13–14; 11:2, 9–11; 13:5; 17:8; 20:1–3. The
eternal reward for the followers of the Lamb is likewise an indication that the current
suffering and death is only temporary.
351
The terms appear together as concluding remarks on several occasions, including
1 Chr 16:36; Neh 5:13; Mart. Matt. 26:39. Cf. Ps 106:48; PGM 7.271; 10.33.
352
Cf. Rev 1:7; 22:20; 2 Cor 1:20, where these terms appear to function synonymous-
ly in close proximity to each other. See Schlier, “ἀµήν,” TDNT 1:335–338.
353
For various solutions to the problem of the identification of this voice, see Marc
Philonenko, “‘Une voix sortit du Trône qui disait …’ (Apocalypse de Jean 19:5a),” RHPR
79 (1999): 83–89; Bousset, Offenbarung, 427; Charles, Revelation of St. John, 2:124;
Kraft, Offenbarung, 243; Aune, Revelation, 3:1027.
354
Prigent, Commentary, 522; Aune, Revelation, 3:1027.
 2.2 Exegetical Analysis of Revelation’s Hymns 107

The hymn begins in the same way as does each of the hymns in chapter
19, with the acclamation to “Praise God.” However, whereas in each of the
other strophes the transliterated Hebrew acclamation “Hallelujah!” appears,
here the Greek translation of this phrase takes its place: αἰνεῖτε τῷ θεῷ
ἡµῶν.355 Also unique to this strophe is the naming of the addressees of this
command: “all his servants (πάντες οἱ δοῦλοι αὐτοῦ), [and] all those who
fear him, small and great.” While δοῦλοι appears in Revelation twice to
denote particular groups, i.e., the heavenly “martyrs” (19:2), and the
“prophets and saints” (11:18), it is more often used in Revelation and in
the New Testament to refer generally to the communities of the followers
of the Lamb (e.g., Rev 1:1; 2:20; 7:3; 22:3, 6). Thus, the phrase can be
reasonably thought to refer here to the general community of believers.
It is unclear whether “those who fear him, small and great” (οἱ φοβού-
µενοι αὐτόν, οἱ µικροὶ καὶ οἱ µεγάλοι) represents an adjectival elaboration
of this community (i.e., an adjective in attributive position with πάντες οἱ
δοῦλοι), or constitutes a group distinct from πάντες οἱ δοῦλοι. The problem
is that these terms are separated in some manuscripts by a conjunctive καί,
which would suggest that οἱ φοβούµενοι αὐτόν represent a group distinct
from πάντες οἱ δοῦλοι, while in other manuscripts there is no such καί,
suggesting that οἱ φοβούµενοι αὐτόν represents an appositive description
of the community itself. In either case, the phrase suggests a disposition of
reverence and respect for God that manifests itself in a number of ways,
e.g., trembling in the presence of God, adherence to God’s laws, or depend-
ence upon God. So, for example, in Acts the phrase is used consistently to
connote Gentiles who adhere to Jewish customs and beliefs. Thus, while
the term may thus characterize the Christian community as a whole, it may
be used as it is in Acts to denote those outside the community who none-
theless adhere to its basic precepts and practices.356
The final words of the strophe (οἱ µικροὶ καὶ οἱ µεγάλοι), which appear
to be a further characterization of “those who fear him,” constitutes an
idiomatic expression denoting the entirety of a particular group of people.
Such is the use of this expression as it is found elsewhere in Revelation, as
for example to denote the entire community (11:18), all those destroyed by
the rider on the white horse (19:18), and all of the dead (20:12). Thus, as it
qualifies οἱ φοβούµενοι αὐτόν here, it can be understood either to connote
all those in the believing communities, or all those outside of the commun-
ity who nevertheless adhere to its precepts and practices.
355
The Greek translation of the Hebrew phrase is most often αἰνεῖτε + accusative
(e.g., Pss [LXX] 33:2; 105:1; 106:1; 107:1; 116:1; 150:1; 1 Chr 16:34; Isa 12:4). The
dative here appears to be a variation on this translation. See Jörns, Evangelium, 152.
356
Commentators treat this issue in a number of ways. Aune, for example, relies on
the apparent meaning of the term in Acts to suggest that the term denotes Gentile mem-
bers of the community. Aune, Revelation, 2:645.
108 Chapter 2: The Hymns in Revelation

Taken as a whole, the entire strophe can be understood as a more

elaborate form of the invocation to sing as was communicated elsewhere
simply with the interjection “Hallelujah!” and an extended call to all those
who would join the heavenly praise of God. It thus serves as a preface to
the actual song of the Christian community that follows in vv. 6–8:
Hallelujah! For the Lord our God the Almighty has begun to reign. Let us give thanks
and rejoice and give him the glory, for the marriage of the Lamb has come, and his bride
has made herself ready; to her it has been granted to be clothed with fine linen, bright
and pure.

That the song is sung by the entire community of believers is suggested by

the fact that the invocation to sing was addressed to the community as a
whole.357 As in previous strophes in chapter 19, the acclamation “Hallelu-
jah!” begins the hymn. Unlike these other instances, however, this accla-
mation is followed by a ὅτι clause that provides the basis for it: “For the
Lord our God the Almighty has begun to reign.” With epithets drawn from
previous hymns that convey the sovereignty of God (κύριος ὁ θεὸς ὁ
παντοκράτωρ),358 God’s lordship is proclaimed. In the same vein, the verb
ἐβασίλευσεν here evokes scenes from the LXX in which God assumes
sovereign authority – becomes king.359 A very similar hymnic claim is
made in Rev 11:17, in which the claim of the assumption of God’s sover-
eign authority coincided with the destruction of the enemies of God and
God’s people, and salvation for God’s elect.360 The similar hymnic claim
here can likewise be understood in terms of the surrounding depictions of
the destruction and salvation of God. On the one hand, God’s assumption
of power entails the destruction of God’s enemies, as is most clearly
evident in the previous chapter by means of the destruction of Babylon
(18:1–24). On the other hand, the coming of God’s sovereign rule also
entails salvation for God’s people, which is manifest insofar as the the
threat to God’s people is eliminated. Thus, the hymn constitutes a reflec-
tion on the preceding narrative events, inasmuch as these narrative events
serve as the basis for the acclamation “Hallelujah!” and the claim of the
coming of the kingship of God. At the same time, the proclamation that
God has “begun to reign” might also be understood as a herald of the
destruction of God’s enemies that takes place immediately following the
hymn, depicted as the destruction of the Beast and his army (19:11–21),
the binding and ultimate destruction of Satan (20:1–3, 7–10), and the “sec-
ond death” (20:11–15), as well as the salvation of God’s elect portrayed as

357
Cf. Prigent, Commentary, 524; Boring, Revelation, 192–193. Though see Beasley-
Murray, Book of Revelation, 273.
358
See notes on hymns in chapters 4, 11, 15, and 16.
359
Pss [LXX] 46:9; 47:8; 92:1; 95:10; 96:1; 98:1.
360
See notes on the hymn in Revelation 11.
 2.2 Exegetical Analysis of Revelation’s Hymns 109

the “final resurrection” (20:4–6), and the New Jerusalem coming down to
earth from heaven (21:1–22:7).
The command to “let us give thanks and rejoice and give him the glory”
immediately follows, and can be understood in light of the preceding
acclamation of God’s sovereignty, and in the context of the surrounding
depictions of the judgment and salvation of God. While this particular
combination of exhortations never appears together in antecedent litera-
ture, the individual commands recall similar directives in the LXX in con-
texts of the judgment and salvation of God, and in contexts in which God’s
kingship is underscored. So, for example, in Isa 61:10, the prophet entreats
his soul to “rejoice” (ἀγαλλιάσθω) in the context of a hymnic thanksgiving
for the overthrow of those who destroyed Zion (Isa 61:2, 5) and for the
salvation of his people (61:1–4, 6–11). Likewise, in Tobit’s final hymn of
thanksgiving to God, he declares that his soul “will rejoice” (ἀξαλλιάσε-
ται) in the King of heaven (Tob 13:9), and implores the listeners “to give
thanks and rejoice” (χάρηθι καὶ ἀγαλλίασαι) (Tob 13:15),361 all within the
context of a vision of God’s restoration of Jerusalem and God’s people
within it, alongside the destruction of God’s enemies (Tob 13:1–17).
Similar exhortations with these verbs appear elsewhere within the context
of the punishment of God’s enemies and the salvation of God’s people (Ps
[LXX] 117:24; 96:1; Joel 2:23). So, too, can the call to “give glory” to
God be understood in this light. Insofar as “glory” is a manifestation of
God’s essential nature, and the means by which God’s exalted status is
revealed,362 to give glory to God is to acknowledge and affirm God’s ex-
alted status.363 Very often, the call to give glory to God occurs on account
of a particular event by which God’s status is revealed (e.g., cosmic
phenomena [Ps (LXX) 28:1–11], or the creation of the world [Ps (LXX)
18:1; 95:1ff.]). Importantly, the salvation and/or destruction of God are
causes for such a command as, e.g., the salvation of the Israelites and the
destruction of the Egyptians who were pursuing them (Ps [LXX] 113:9),
the destruction of Jerusalem (Jer 13:16), and the restoration of Jerusalem
(Isa 42:12). Thus, alongside exhortations to give thanks and rejoice, the
call to give glory to God here can be understood as a response to the
destructive and salvific actions of God in the surrounding narrative.364

361
In the BA manuscripts of Tobit.
362
See notes on the hymn in Revelation 4.
363
Kittel, “δόξα,” TDNT 2:244–245.
364
Furthermore, inasmuch as these exhortations in antecedent literature often take
place within the broader context of the praise of God’s sovereignty (and are especially
clear in Tobit 13, Psalm [LXX] 97, and Joel 2:32), so, too, can these appeals in chapter
19 be taken in light of the affirmation of God’s sovereignty in the preceding clause. As
the destruction of God’s enemies and the salvation of God’s people is the grounds for the
acclamation of God’s sovereignty in the previous clause, so, too, are the calls to “give
110 Chapter 2: The Hymns in Revelation

While the call to “give thanks, rejoice, and give glory [to God]” thus
makes sense in light of the surrounding actions, they are justified, as is so
often the case in Revelation’s hymns, by means of a ὅτι clause, which in
this case consists of the claim that the “marriage of the Lamb has come,
and his bride has made herself ready.” Thus, the command to rejoice is
grounded specifically in the salvific act of God bringing down to earth the
New Jerusalem, as the manifestation of the New Jerusalem from heaven is
presented as a kind of wedding: the exalted Jesus (i.e., the Lamb) is
presented as the bridegroom (19:9), the eschatological city of Jerusalem is
portrayed as his “bride” (21:2, 9; 22:17), and the “marriage feast” (τὸ
δεῖπνον τοῦ γάµου τοῦ ἀρνίου), consists of the flesh of those who have
been defeated (19:9, 18). In terms borrowed from the Old Testament in
which the relationship between God and God’s people is described as a
kind of marriage between God and God’s people,365 the final consumma-
tion of the relationship between God and God’s people is reoriented here in
terms of an eschatological marriage between the exalted Jesus (i.e., the
“Lamb”) and the people (i.e., the inhabitants of the New Jerusalem).
Such a depiction, which appears in various forms elsewhere in the New
Testament and early Christian literature,366 is completed in the hymn by
the idea that the “bride” has been “granted to be clothed in fine linen,
bright and pure.” This imagery, which conjures the luxury items that might
be worn by a bride in a wedding ceremony, 367 also symbolically represents
the purity that characterizes the “bride.” That is, the “bright and pure”
(λαµπρὸν καθαρόν) linens represent the purity of the inhabitants of the
eschatological city of God,368 which are said to be a manifestation of their
“righteous deeds” (19:8b). In other words, the eschatological people of

thanks, rejoice, and give glory to God” part and parcel of the acclamation of God’s
sovereignty.
365
Hos 2:14–20; Isa 49:18; 54:1–6; 62:5; Jer 2:2; 3:20; Ezek 16:8–14.
366
E.g., Mark 2:19–20//Matt 9:15//Luke 5:35; Matt 25:1–13; John 3:29; 2 Cor 11:2;
Eph 5:22–23; Gosp. Thom. 104; 2 Clem. 14:2; Tertullian, Marc. 5.18; Clement of Alex-
andria, Strom. 3.6.
367
See, for example, Rev 21:2, where the “bride” is said to be adorned (κεκοσµη-
µένην), presumably with fine linens and jewelry. Cf. Isa 61:10, in which the “bride” of
God is adorned with fine clothing and jewels. See Jan Fekkes, “His Bride Has Prepared
Herself: Revelation 19–21 and Isaian Nuptial Imagery,” JBL 109 (1990): 269–287; Jan
Fekkes, “Unveiling the Bride: Revelation’s Nuptial Imagery and Roman Social Discourse,”
in A Feminist Companion to the Apocalypse of John (ed. Amy-Jill Levine; Sheffield:
Sheffield Academic Press, 2009), 159–179.
368
Cf. the presentation of the “pure” brides in 2 Cor 11:2; Eph 5:22–33. Cf. the purity
of the people of God as represented by the white robes (6:10) of the martyrs under the
altar who had been slaughtered for their testimony (6:9–11), the apparel the Great Multi-
tude (7:9), as well as the “fine linen” of the armies of heaven (19:14). Contrast the “fine
linen” worn by the “Great Prostitute” in Rev 18:16.
 2.2 Exegetical Analysis of Revelation’s Hymns 111

God, spared from the destruction unleashed upon the Beast, Satan, and
their followers, are apparently saved, at least in part,369 on account of their
own actions. Such a notion makes sense in light of the preoccupation
throughout Revelation with the proper conduct of the people of God as a
prerequisite for salvation (2:1–3:22; 13:9–10; 14:1–5, 9–12; 20:4–6, 11–
15; 21:7–8; 22:14–15), and puts a fine point on the hymnic claim that the
bride has “made herself ready” for the marriage with the Lamb.
In summary, inasmuch as it occurs after the conclusion of the vision of
the destruction of Babylon (18:1–24), and immediately prior to the vision
of the defeat of God’s heavenly adversaries and the manifestation of the
New Jerusalem (19:11–22:7), the hymn in chapter 19 acts as a mechanism
for dividing these narrative sequences. In other words, it functions struc-
turally as do many of the other hymns in Revelation as a transition between
these scenes. At the same time, the hymn provides theological reflections
on the surrounding narratives. The initial strophe constitutes an acclama-
tion of the sovereignty of God in terms familiar from elsewhere in
Revelation, and a call to praise God on the basis of God’s act of destroying
Babylon in the preceding narrative sequence. So much is made explicit
later in the strophe, where the basis for this praise is said to be God’s judg-
ment of the Great Prostitute, which clearly alludes to Babylon, and by ex-
tension, the city of Rome. The destruction of Rome, which is characterized
as a city that literally and figuratively destroys its own inhabitants, is then
explained as God’s vengeance for the deaths of God’s people at the hands
of the Romans, a claim which is intensified by the fact that those making it
are martyrs who were killed at the hands of the Romans. Ultimately, then,
the strophe constitutes an affirmation of the events immediately preceding
the hymn, i.e., the destruction of Babylon (Rome), and a call to praise God
for this action.
This initial strophe is followed by a very brief antistrophe in which the
destruction of Babylon (Rome) is likened to past acts of God in which
punishment consists of eternally burning fires (“Her smoke rises forever!”).
The hymnic sequence ends with a second antistrophe, “Amen. Hallelujah!”
a traditional hymnic ending in which the contents of the preceding strophes
are reaffirmed, and in which the call to praise God on account of these
events is reiterated.
A second hymnic sequence immediately follows the first, and begins
with another succinct call to all those who would praise God to do so.
Immediately following this is an antistrophe that justifies this call: the
proclamation that God has “begun to reign,” language that connotes the
destruction of God’s enemies, and salvation for God’s people. Thus, the

369
Cf. Rev 5:9–10, in which the blood of the Lamb is said to “ransom for God saints
from every tribe … and people and nation …” See notes on the hymn in Revelation 5.
112 Chapter 2: The Hymns in Revelation

hymn makes clear that for this God is to be praised as heavenly sovereign
(i.e., be given “glory”), and the people are to give thanks and rejoice.
However, a causal clause following the summons to praise God shifts the
focus from God’s act of destruction in the preceding scene to God’s act of
coming to earth in the following scene. That is, the call to praise God and
give thanks rests on the fact that God has come to earth, which is explained
as the “marriage of the Lamb,” and which is precisely the metaphor used to
describe the advent of God and the New Jerusalem in chapters 20 through
22. Thus, the hymnic call to rejoice is a proleptic indication of the coming
of God and the New Jersualem in the following chapters.
 Chapter 3

The Context for Dramatic Choruses:

Choreia in Ancient Greece

3.1 Introduction

Abundant archaeological, literary, artistic, and epigraphic evidence testi-

fies to the popularity and pervasiveness of choral poetry and performance
(choreia) in ancient Greece, and its place as a ubiquitous element of public
and private social events during the Archaic and Classical periods,1
operating across mythic, religious, social, and educational spectrums.2 An
amalgamation of poetry, music, and dancing, choreia can be traced to the
very beginnings of Greek civilization, touching all corners of the Greek-
speaking world up to its greatest flourishing in the 5th c. B.C.E., and
through its eventual demise in the Hellenistic period.3
Choruses as they appeared in ancient tragedy were particular manifesta-
tions of this wider stream of choral phenomena. As such, certain formal
characteristics of tragic choruses (their size, composition, shape, training,
etc.), as well as tragic choral lyrics (metrical and dialectical tendencies,

1
It has been said that not a single important event in Ancient Greece lacked a choral
performance of some sort. See Helen Bacon, “The Chorus in Greek Life and Drama,”
Arion 3 (1995): 6–24.
2
The significance of choreia in Greek antiquity can sometimes be lost on a modern
audience for whom the elements of singing, dancing, and music are no longer requisite
communal activities, but are often associated with high-culture pursuits (i.e., the “Fine
Arts”), or denigrated as tawdry forms of entertainment. Perhaps owing to this, choral
poetry and its constitutive elements are rarely considered in their own right, but rather in
terms of other major trajectories in Classical studies, e.g., music, meter, dance, lyric
poetry, performance traditions, sociology, myth, and/or religious practices. “[Choreia]
was a physical and spiritual discipline to which Greek civilization in its prime assigned a
central place of honor, and we need periodically to remind ourselves how alien it has
become. For us the ability to sing and dance simultaneously is a virtuoso technique re-
served for professionals, and even then it has been demoted to genres that make no claim
to high culture – Broadway musicals and cheerleading manoeuvres. The idea that citizens
as citizens should engage in singing and dancing strikes us as sheer tribalism.” William
Mullen, Choreia: Pindar and Dance (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1982), 3.
3
The term choreia first appears in Pratinas. PMG 708 = TGF 4 F 3.8; Euripides,
Phoen. 1265; Aristophanes, Ran. 247, 336; Thesm. 956, 968, 981, 983. Plato is the first
known commentator on the subject. Plato, Leg. 2.654ff.
114 Chapter 3: The Context for Dramatic Choruses

musical elements, etc.), can be understood in terms of the dynamics of

ancient choral phenomena. Thus, a survey of choral phenomena, including
the origins, types, forms, and functions of non-dramatic choruses as they
appeared in the Greek world, will provide a basis for considering the
particular forms and functions of choruses as they appear in tragedy.
Unfortunately, the surviving evidence allows for only partial reconstruc-
tions of each of these constitutive elements of choreia. Most often only
small fragments or quotations survive, frequently in the commentaries of
later authors, and thus only partial evidence remains for most of the choral
genres known from antiquity. More devastating than this is the fact that the
musical and choreographic elements of choral poetry have been lost almost
entirely. No notations, or explicit choreographic instructions, remain – if
they ever existed.4 Consequently, the precise shapes of the dance, and the
sounds of the music, that accompanied the poetry are beyond reconstruc-
tion.
Despite the slight and fragmentary nature of the evidence, and the prob-
lems deriving from the nature of the evidence, some aspects of choral
poetry are accessible to the modern interpreter. It is possible to get a
general sense of the size, composition, and types of choruses, to identify
some of the major poets, genres, stylistic characteristics, and metrical
properties of choral poetry, and to associate known choral poets with
poetic genres as well as with developments and trends in choral poetry.

3.2 Earliest Choral Forms in Ancient Greece

The earliest attestations of a chorus in Greek literature are found in the

Epic poems of Homer, Hesiod, and the Homeric Hymns, wherein a chorus
refers most often to a dance, and/or a place reserved for dancing.5 Few
details are given as to the nature of the dance, those who participated in it,
and the circumstances surrounding its performance. However, the contexts
in which the term appears suggest that the dance was performed in a
communal context, and was likely accompanied by a musician6 and/or the

4
As with other poetic forms, these elements of choral poetry are commonly thought to
have been passed down through oral instruction and kinetic mimesis.
5
E.g., “… and they struck the sacred dancing floor (χορόν) with their feet.” Od.
8.264; cf. Il. 16.183; 18.590. Also perhaps in Il. 18.603: “And a great company stood
around the lovely dance (-floor?), taking joy therein …”
6
Book 18 of the Iliad describes a scene of the grape harvest, in which a young boy
“made pleasant music with a clear-toned lyre, and thereto sang sweetly the Linos-song …
and his fellows beating the earth in unison therewith followed on with bounding feet
mid-dance and shoutings.” Il. 18.571ff. So, too, in Book 1 of the Odyssey is Phemius said
 3.2 Earliest Choral Forms in Ancient Greece 115

singing and shouting of the participants,7 though very little is known of the
precise relationship between the participants, the accompaniments, and the
music. In all instances choral activity is presented as a very leisurely
affair,8 and is often considered in light of, and in contrast with, the co-
ordinated movements in battle.9
One of the most detailed descriptions of such a choral dance appears in
the ekphrastic description of Achilles’ shield in Book 18 of the Iliad:
Therein furthermore the famed god of the two strong arms cunningly wrought a dancing-
floor (χορός) like unto that which in wide Knossus Daedalus fashioned of old for fair-
tressed Ariadne. There were youths dancing and maidens of the price of many cattle,
holding their hands upon the wrists of one another. Of these the maidens were clad in
fine linen, while the youths wore well-woven tunics faintly glistening with oil; and the
maidens had fair chaplets, and the youths had daggers of gold hanging from silver
baldrics. Now would they run around with cunning feet exceedingly lightly, as when a
potter sits by his wheel that is fitted between his hands and maketh trial of it whether it
will run; and now again would they run in rows toward each other. And a great company
stood around the lovely dance, taking joy therein; and two tumblers whirled up and down
through the midst of them as leaders in the dance (Il. 18.590–606).
Epic poetry provides several such glimpses of choral poetry as it was
imagined to have been performed in the Heroic Age, as well as evidence
for specific choral forms, including the wedding-song (epithalamios),10 the
Linos-song associated with the harvest,11 funeral dirge (threnos),12 and
paean.13 Yet, it is unclear the extent to which these depictions reflect actual
practice,14 and if they do, whether they offer a view of very ancient choral

to sing with a lyre amongst the suitors who had “turned to singing and dancing.” Od.
1.151–152.
7
As in the beginning of Hesiod’s Theogony, where the Muses are said to “dance on
soft feet … making lovely dances … with vigorous feet” while uttering “their song with
lovely voice.” Hesiod, Theog. 1–10. So, too, in Il. 16.183, we hear of “singing maidens in
the dancing-floor of Artemis.”
8
E.g., “There he is in his chamber … gleaming with beauty and fair raiment. You
wouldn’t think that he had come there from warring with a foe, but rather that he was
going to the dance, or sat there as one who had recently come from the dance.” Il. 3.390–
394.
9
Il. 3.393; 15.508; Od. 8.248.
10
Il. 18.491ff.
11
Il. 18.567ff.
12
Hector’s funeral includes a funeral dirge (Il. 24.720ff.), which includes professional
singers, a group of women, and Andromache, Hecuba, and Helen in turn. See David A.
Campbell, ed., Greek Lyric Poetry: A Selection of Early Greek Lyric, Elegiac and Iambic
Poetry (London: Bristol Classical Press, 2003), xvi.
13
The Greek army sings a paean after Apollo puts an end to the pestilence (Il. 1.472–
474), and after Achilles kills Hector (Il. 22.391–392). See Campbell, Greek Lyric Poetry,
xvi.
14
The question of the date by which Homeric poems were committed to the written
form in which they have survived is a matter of considerable debate.
116 Chapter 3: The Context for Dramatic Choruses

traditions, or a view into the world of choral poetry as it existed in the

centuries during which Epic poetry began to take written form.15 At any
rate, Epic poetry does not exhibit much in terms of actual choral poetry.
Artistic evidence from the pre-historic and Archaic periods sheds light
on the earliest forms of ancient choruses, often serving as the primary
means by which the size, shape, composition, and movements of choruses
can be determined.16 As we will see, however, the limitations of the artistic
mediums present problems for interpreting visual data. Visual evidence is
helpful in establishing parameters for choral dance, but it can rarely be
connected to particular choral dances.

3.3 Choral Poets

3.3.1 Archaic Poets

At some point near the beginning of the 7th c. B.C.E., the first fragments of
choral poetry begin to appear, as does textual evidence for a number of
choral poets.17 The first physical evidence for choral poetry consists of two
lines in Pausanias that are attributed to Eumelos, a Corinthian poet who
may have lived as early as the late 8th c. B.C.E.18 While most of the contents
of this poem and the details of its performance remain unknown, it is
probable that it was composed for a chorus, and adhered to the form of a
paean, or perhaps a “processional” hymn (prosodion).19

15
It is unclear at what point Epic poetry began to be committed to written form, and
much less clear at what point the poems took the form as we now have them. As such, it
cannot be determined with any degree of certainty which time-period is reflected in the
fragments in which choral activity is depicted. For a discussion of the interplay of orality
and literacy in ancient Greece, see Rosalind Thomas, Literacy and Orality in Ancient
Greece (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1992).
16
See, e.g., Thomas B. L. Webster, The Greek Chorus (London: Methuen, 1970), 1–22.
17
The earliest names are Thales (Thaletas), who is said to have composed paeans and
hyporchemata in Sparta. Polymnestus was said to have composed prosodia in Sparta.
Arion of Corinth was supposed to have been a pupil of Alcman, and Sacadas of Argos is
mentioned by Plutarch as composing a three-part chorus. See Emmet Robbins, “Public
Poetry,” in A Companion to the Greek Lyric Poets (ed. Douglas E. Gerber; Leiden: Brill,
1997), 223.
18
PMG 696; Pausanias 4.33.2.
19
George L. Huxley, Greek Epic Poetry from Eumelos to Panyassis (London: Faber,
1969), 62; Ian Rutherford, Pindar’s Paeans: A Reading of the Fragments with a Survey of
the Genre (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2001), 459; Graham Ley, Theatricality of
Greek Tragedy: Playing Space and Chorus (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 2007),
124. On the date of Eumelos, see Richard Janko, Homer, Hesiod, and the Hymns (Cam-
bridge: Cambridge University Press, 1982), 231–233. Cf. Martin L. West, Greek Metre
(Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1982), 15, n. 8.
 3.3 Choral Poets 117

Alcman
From a period likely not long after this are preserved a number of frag-
ments of Alcman, who is thought to have composed choral poetry in Sparta
during the 7th c. B.C.E. Ancient commentators claim that he wrote hymns
and wedding-songs (epithalamioi/hymenaioi),20 and there may be evidence
for these among his extant fragmentary poems. Most of Alcman’s frag-
ments, however, seem to have been pieces composed for choruses of
young women, so-called partheneia.21 The most substantive of these,
dubbed the Partheneion, consists of 101 lines (from an original total of
140?) of what appears to consist of mythic narrative, moral reflection on
this narrative,22 and allusions to individual chorus members and figures in
contemporary Sparta.23

Stesichorus, Ibycus, Anacreon, and Simonides

By the 6th c. B.C.E., a number of notable poets are known to have composed
poetry for choruses, including Stesichorus (630–mid-5th c. B.C.E.),24 Ibycus
(mid-6th c. B.C.E.),25 Anacreon (570–520 B.C.E.) and Simonides (mid-6th c./
early 5th c. B.C.E.). On the basis of ancient testimony, Stesichorus appears

20
A note on terminology for the wedding-song: The epithalamios comes to refer
specifically to the wedding-song sung outside of the bride’s chamber, in contrast with the
hymenaios, which most often refers to the song sung during the wedding processional.
However, hymenaios is also sometimes used to characterize wedding-songs outside of the
processional. See Laura Swift, The Hidden Chorus: Echoes of Genre in Tragic Lyric
(Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2010), 242–243.
21
For critical editions of these fragments, see Claude Calame, Alcman: Introduction,
texte critique, témoignages, traduction et commentaire (Rome: Edizioni dell’Ateneo,
1983); Antonio Garzya, Alcmane: I frammenti (Naples: Casa Editrice Dr. Silvio Viti,
1954). For general introductions and texts, see Robbins, “Public Poetry,” 223–231;
Campbell, Greek Lyric Poetry, 18–27.
22
Some have noted that here in the earliest substantive piece of choral poetry are found
formal elements that figure prominently later in the (choral) Epinician Odes of Pindar.
That is, “there is a myth told, with attendant moralising and theological reflection, and
there is much about the occasion and the performance.” Emmet Robbins, “Alcman,” in A
Companion to the Greek Lyric Poets (ed. Douglas E. Gerber; Leiden: Brill, 1997), 228.
23
Campbell, Greek Lyric Poetry, xvii.
24
Campbell, Greek Lyric Poetry, 38–39, 253–260; Martin L. West, “Stesichorus,” CQ
21 (1971): 302–314; Emmet Robbins, “Stesichorus,” in A Companion to the Greek Lyric
Poets (ed. Douglas E. Gerber; Leiden: Brill, 1997), 232–242; Andrew W. Miller, ed.,
Greek Lyric: An Anthology in Translation (Indianapolis: Hackett, 1996), 77–81.
25
There are issues in dating Ibycus’ material. The Suda claims that he lived during the
first half of the 6 th century, while Eusebius claims that he lived during the second half of
it. See Emmet Robbins, “Ibycus,” in A Companion to the Greek Lyric Poets (ed. Douglas
E. Gerber; Leiden: Brill, 1997), 187–189.
118 Chapter 3: The Context for Dramatic Choruses

to have been one of antiquity’s most revered poets, choral or otherwise.26

Oddly, this testimony is belied by a meager number of extant fragments. He
was said to have composed long, narrative poems reminiscent of Homer,
consisting largely of mythic content,27 yet nothing approaching this magni-
tude survives through quotation or in the papyri. Some doubt whether
Stesichorus was a composer of choral poetry, proposing instead that he
composed poetry for individual performance (monody), a view that casts
doubt on the value of his extant poetry for reconstructing Archaic choral
poetry. 28
A younger contemporary of Stesichorus, and likewise born in Magna
Graecia, Ibycus is often considered in the same poetic tradition.29 That is,
Ibycus composed music for choral performance30 in which “epic language,
myth, and mythic cycles” were dominant,31 in a dialect characterized as
“Doric,”32 and according to triadic metrical patterns. Though he composed
choral work in this fashion, Ibycus was best known in antiquity for his
non-choral love poetry for boys. Anacreon is often considered alongside
Ibycus, his older contemporary and fellow poet in the court of the tyrant
Polycrates.33 Anacreon was said to have composed songs for choruses of
26
Dionysius claimed that, along with Alcaeus (a contemporary of Stesichorus who
composed non-choral lyric poetry), he was the greatest of the lyric poets. Moreover, he
was mentioned by more than one ancient commentator in the same breath as Homer and
Pindar. See Campbell, Greek Lyric Poets, 253–256.
27
Longinus said that Stesichorus was Ὁµηρικώτατος. Longinus 13.3. Likewise,
Quintilian said of Stesichorus that he “sustained on the lyre the weight of epic song.”
Quintilian, Inst. 10.1.62. Yet, he is said to have included mythic details that were not
found in Homer and Hesiod, and that contrasted with the Epic myths.
28
Some of Stesichorus’ poetry exhibits a triadic (epodic) metrical pattern, which has
long served as a criterion for identifying choral poetry. However, this has been ques-
tioned recently, and on these grounds his poetry is now thought by many to consist of
non-choral poetic forms (e.g., citharodic poetry). Additionally, Athenaeus claimed that
Stesichorus wrote “love-poetry,” which suggests non-choral performance. See West,
“Stesichorus,” 307–313. On the issue of triadic responsion as an indicator of choral
poetry, see Malcolm Davies, “Monody, Choral Lyric, and the Tyranny of the Handbook,”
CQ 38 (1988): 52–64; Mary Lefkowitz, “The First Person in Pindar Reconsidered –
Again,” BICS 40 (1995): 139–150; Emmet Robbins, “Pindar,” in A Companion to the
Greek Lyric Poets (ed. Douglas E. Gerber; Leiden: Brill, 1997), 268–273.
29
Leonard Woodbury, “Ibycus and Polycrates,” Phoenix 39 (1985): 193–220; Camp-
bell, Greek Lyric Poetry, 63–67, 305–313; Miller, Greek Lyric, 95–98; Bonnie C.
MacLachlan, “Ibycus,” in A Companion to the Greek Lyric Poets (ed. Douglas E. Gerber;
Leiden: Brill, 1997), 187–197.
30
E.g., the Suda: ἐρωτοµανέστατος περὶ µειράκια. Cf. Cicero, Tusc. 4.71.
31
MacLachlan, “Ibycus,” 189.
32
This is how it is characterized in the Suda. MacLachlan, “Ibycus,” 189.
33
Bruno Gentili, Anacreon (Rome: Edizioni dell' Ateneo, 1958); Patricia Rosenmeyer,
The Poetics of Imitation: Anacreon and the Anacreontic Tradition (Cambridge: Cam-
bridge University Press, 1992); David A. Campbell, “Anacreon,” in Early Greek Poetry
 3.3 Choral Poets 119

young women (partheneia), but of these only one line exists in the form of
a direct quotation. The remainder of his extant poetry appears to be non-
choral love poetry.
Of the choral poets who were active in the 6th century and from whom
extant fragments remain, none appears to have been more prolific than
Simonides. In addition to composing in non-choral poetic forms,34 Simoni-
des was well-known in antiquity for having composed choral pieces relat-
ing to events of the Persian War,35 victory-odes for the victors of athletic
contests,36 dirges in honor of well-known persons, paeans, hymns, and
dithyrambs, for which he was said to have won 56 victories. Many of these
poetic forms are represented in Simonides’ extant fragments.

3.3.2 Classical Choral Poets

The greatest flourishing of choral poetry took place in the 5th century, evi-
denced both by the work of two prolific and renowned poets, Pindar37 and
Bacchylides,38 and the rise of dramatic choral forms in Athenian tragedy
and comedy. Choruses as they appear in tragic and comic forms constitute
the greatest number of extant choral works from this or any other century
in antiquity, and bear direct and certain connections to non-dramatic choral
poetry. As dramatic choruses constitute the subject of Chapters 5 and 6, we
shall consider here only non-dramatic choral poets in the Classical period.

(ed. Pat E. Easterling, Bernard MacGregor, and Walker Knox; Cambridge: Cambridge
University Press, 1989), 175–179; Bonnie C. MacLachlan, “Anacreon,” in A Companion
to the Greek Lyric Poets (ed. Douglas E. Gerber; Leiden: Brill, 1997), 198–212.
34
Simonides’ elegies were especially well-known in antiquity. See Emmet Robbins,
“Simonides,” in A Companion to the Greek Lyric Poets (ed. Douglas E. Gerber; Leiden:
Brill, 1997), 251–252.
35
“After Xerxes’ invasion Simonides was invited to compose poems in honor of those
who died at Thermopylae, Artemisium, Salamis and Plataea: epitaphs for Athenians,
Spartans and Corinthians, poems on Artemisium and Salamis, a commemorative song for
Leonidas and his Spartans, and a dedicatory epigram for the Spartan king are all known.”
Campbell, Greek Lyric Poetry, 378.
36
One tradition considered Simonides to have been the first to write victory-odes.
37
The standard introductions to Pindar include: Cecil M. Bowra, Pindar (Oxford:
Oxford University Press, 1964); Donald S. Carne-Ross, Pindar (New Haven: Yale Uni-
versity Press, 1985); William H. Race, Pindar (Boston: Twayne, 1986).
38
Standard introductions to Bacchylides include: Anne P. Burnett, The Art of Bac-
chylides (Cambridge, Mass.: Harvard University Press, 1985); Robert Fagles, Bacchyli-
des: The Complete Poems (New Haven: Yale University Press, 1998).
120 Chapter 3: The Context for Dramatic Choruses

Pindar
Pindar was said to have composed poems in all of the major choral
genres,39 and most of these poetic forms are preserved to some extent in
fragmentary form or in quotation by later authors. By far the most sub-
stantive of these is the compilation of four books of victory-odes, which
were composed for the victors of athletic contests held at various locations
(Olympian, Pythian, Nemean, and Isthmian).40 Unfortunately, it is unclear
whether these odes represent choral compositions, and thus their value for
reconstructing choral poetry is tentative.41 Whether or not the victory-odes
provide certain insight into choral poetry in the 5th c. B.C.E., the fragments
that are more certainly choral provide a sense not only of Pindar’s choral
inclinations, but also of choral poetry more generally in the 5th c. B.C.E.

Bacchylides
A contemporary of Pindar, Bacchylides composed poems in each of the
major choral genres, and appears to have been a prolific composer of choral
poetry. However, much less is known about his life, and until very recently
our knowledge of his work depended largely on ancient commentators’
mostly negative opinions of it vis-à-vis the poetry of Pindar.42 Prior to
1896, only 100 or so lines were known through quotation, when a trove of
fourteen victory-odes and six dithyrambs were discovered and smuggled
from Egypt to the British Museum.43 While the victory-odes provide
valuable data on the genre in the Classical period, the question remains
39
The Alexandrian library, which included a collection of Archaic and Classical lyric
poetry, accorded to Pindar each of these choral types, including hymns, paeans,
dithyrambs, victory-odes (epinicians), dirges, prosodia, maiden-songs (partheneia), and
encomia. For a critical edition of the Pindaric odes, see Bruno Snell and Herwig Maehler,
Pindarus, vol. 1 (Leipzig: Teubner, 1987). For Pindaric fragments, see Herwig Maehler,
Pindarus, vol. 2 (Leipzig: Teubner, 1989). For the Pindaric MSS tradition, see Alexander
Turyn, Pindari carmina cum fragmentis (Oxford: Blackwell, 1948). For the dithyrambs,
see Maria J. H. van der Weiden, The Dithyrambs of Pindar: Introduction, Text, and Com-
mentary (Amsterdam: J. C. Gieben, 1991).
40
For studies of these odes, see Elroy L. Bundy, Studia Pindarica (2 vols.; Berkeley:
University of California Press, 1962); Reginald W. B. Burton, Pindar’s Pythian Odes
(Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1962); Frank Nisetich, Pindar’s Victory Songs (Baltimore:
Johns Hopkins Press, 1980); William H. Race, Style and Rhetoric in Pindar’s Odes
(Atlanta: Scholars Press, 1990).
41
Although most exhibit triadic responsion, which has long served as a criterion for
identifying choral poetry, some have called into question whether this signals choral
poetry.
42
Campbell, Greek Lyric Poetry, 413–416; Emmet Robbins, “Bacchylides,” in A Com-
panion to the Greek Lyric Poets (ed. Douglas E. Gerber; Leiden: Brill, 1997), 278–287.
43
For a summary of the harrowing story of the texts’ discovery, see Burnett, The Art
of Bacchylides, 1–2.
 3.3 Choral Poets 121

whether or not these were performed as choral pieces. Likewise, the six
partial dithyrambs (if they are, in fact, dithyrambs44) comprise the most
substantive and best preserved examples of this poetic genre from antiqui-
ty. 45

3.3.3 Decline of Choral Poetry in the Post-Classical Period

Already in the fourth century it appears that non-dramatic choral poetry
was in a period of decline. This is the impression given by the remains of
non-dramatic poetry from the 4th century and later, in which there do not
appear many of the choral forms recognizable from the 5th century and
earlier. That is to say, the characteristic elements of Archaic and Classical
choral poetry – complicated polymetry, strophic repetition, and lyric metri-
cal systems – are simply not evident in non-dramatic forms from the 4th c.
B.C.E. on. If non-dramatic choral forms did indeed exist in the 4th century
and into the Hellenistic and Roman periods, they are not clearly identi-
fiable on the grounds used to identify earlier choral poetry. 46
A decline in non-dramatic choral forms in the 4th century is further sug-
gested by the fact that, with the exception of the dithyramb, non-dramatic
choral forms are not explicitly mentioned by commentators. For instance,
in his taxonomy of literary genres, Plato makes no mention of non-dramatic
choral forms (or lyric forms generally for that matter) except the dithyramb.47
Likewise, in a comment in which he reveals his favorite poets, Xenophon
mentions only the choral dithyramb as a distinct poetic form, along with
“Epic” and “tragedy.”48 Thus, it appears that non-dithyrambic choral forms
outside of drama had practically died out by the fourth century, perhaps on

44
They were labeled as such in the collection of lyric poetry in Alexandria. Some
modern commentators, however, have questioned whether these poems are properly con-
sidered dithyrambs, in large part because they evince little or no trace of a Dionysian
orientation, which is considered by some to be the sine qua non of dithyrambic poetry.
Unfortunately, because so little is known about the formal elements of the dithyramb,
these poems cannot be judged sufficiently to be dithyrambs on the basis of formal anal-
yses alone.
45
The standard critical editions are: Bacchylidis Carmina cum Fragmentis (ed. Bruno
Snell and Herwig Maehler; Leipzig: Teubner, 1970); Frederic G. Kenyon, ed., The Poems
of Bacchylides (London: British Museum, 1897); Richard C. Jebb, Bacchylides: The
Poems and Fragments (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1905).
46
Our inability to identify forms on the basis of the trademarks of 6th and 5 th-century
choral poetry are hardly surprising, given the propensity of Hellenistic poets to mix and
muddle poetic genres. This notion is summed up in the comment that “the laws of the
genres were respected in the Archaic period but not written down; in the Hellenistic
period they were written down but not respected.” L. Enrico Rossi, “I generi e le loro
leggi scritte e non scritte nelle letterature classiche,” BICS 18 (1971): 69–94.
47
Plato, Rep. 3.394b–c.
48
Xenophon, Mem. 1.4.3.
122 Chapter 3: The Context for Dramatic Choruses

account of the disappearance of the civic and social contexts available in

the fifth century that provided exigencies for their performance.49

3.4 Types of Choral Poetry

3.4.1 Issues in Classifying Choral Poetry

The categories used today to classify ancient Greek choral poetry depend
in large part on the classification schema handed down to us by the Alex-
andrians, who had compiled a library of lyric poetry towards the end of the
3rd c. B.C.E. This compilation, which may have constituted a kind of canon
of lyric poetry, 50 included the works (of unknown quantity)51 of nine poets:
Alcman, Alcaeus, Sappho, Stesichorus, Ibycus, Anacreon, Simonides, Bac-
chylides, and Pindar.52
It appears that the criteria used to categorize individual works in the
Alexandrian library varied depending on the poet. So, for instance, the
poems of Alcman, Alcaeus, Sappho, Ibycus, and Anacreon are listed
according to what appears to have been a standardized numerical system,
while most of those of Simonides are listed by their title. On the other
hand, all of Pindar’s poems, and several poems of Simonides and Bacchy-
lides, are organized according to their type (Gk: εἶδος), i.e., dithyrambs,
paeans, etc.53
The apparent inconsistency in the classification system raises questions
of whether there in fact existed some implicit, underlying criteria for
classifying the poetry. 54 In the end, the classification system in place in the

49
Fantuzzi and Hunter, Traditon and Innovation, 19–20.
50
The notion that these works constituted a canon is suggested by the fact that there
are no traces of evidence for another collection after this. Anthony E. Harvey, “The
Classification of Greek Lyric Poetry,” CQ 5:3/4 (1955): 158.
51
It is not clear how many works of each of these were preserved. On a conservative
estimate, the Alexandrian library may have contained at least 100 rolls of lyric poetry,
with about 1000 to 1500 lines per roll. According to notations on extant fragments,
poems could have been as short as 130 verses, or as long as about 1300 verses, which
provides some sense of how much poetry may have been collected in the Alexandrian
library. See Douglas E. Gerber, “General Introduction,” in A Companion to the Greek
Lyric Poets (ed. Douglas E. Gerber; Leiden: Brill, 1997), 2, esp. n. 8.
52
While the number of canonical lyric poets seems to have been well-established, the
criteria by which these poets were selected are not clear.
53
Harvey, “Classification,” 158.
54
Later commentators, by further delineating poetry beyond these generic “types,”
may have compensated for the broad generic terms of the Alexandrians. Proclus, for ex-
ample, distinguished religious poetry from non-religious poetry along the lines of Plato,
and further delineated lyric forms according to the contexts in which they were per-
formed. See Furley and Bremer, Greek Hymns, 12–13; cf. Harvey, “Classification,” 158.
 3.4 Types of Choral Poetry 123

3rd c. B.C.E. says as much and perhaps more about the ways in which the
Alexandrians considered the poetry than it does about formal differences in
the poetic forms themselves.55 Nevertheless, because no other classifica-
tion system usurped the one found at Alexandria, and because so many of
the poems were distinguished in the Alexandrian library by their “type,”
this is the way they are most often distinguished today.
Few types of choral poetry identified by the Alexandrians can be recon-
structed, owing to a lack of substantive extant examples, and the absence of
information in art and literature as to their precise nature. So, for instance,
parthenaia,56 prosodia, threnody/dirge, and epithalamioi/hymeniaoi,57 seem
to have been common forms of choral compositions in the Archaic and
Classical periods, but only the slightest information is available with which
to reconstruct the elements of each. Fortunately, substantial evidence does
exist for a number of choral forms, including the epinician ode, paean, and
dithyramb, allowing for a consideration of their formal and functional fea-
tures.

3.4.2 Choral Genres

Epinician Odes
Epinician odes were commemorative choral songs dedicated to victors of
athletic contests,58 such as those that took place during the major games at
Olympia, Delphi, etc., or at local contests. It may have been that victory-
odes were publicly performed immediately after the athletic events, while
others were performed later at the victor’s home, or a public place near it.59
Such odes seem to have constituted a distinct choral genre, with standard
formal and stylistic features, as attested by the 45 extant poems of Pindar,
and fifteen of Bacchylides.60 Indispensable to the victory-ode was the

55
This is the principal argument in Harvey, “Classification,” 164ff.
56
On the parthenia, see Swift, The Hidden Chorus, 173–188.
57
See Swift, The Hidden Chorus, 241–250.
58
Contests included “races for four-horse chariot, mule chariot, and single (ridden)
horse; foot races at various distances; contests in boxing, wrestling, and the pankration (a
combination of the two); and the pentathlon, a complex event which involved racing,
jumping, throwing the discus and javelin, and wrestling.” Richard Lattimore, ed., The
Odes of Pindar (2 nd ed.; Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1976), ix–x.
59
The evidence for even the most basic conditions of performance, including the loca-
tion, audience, performers, etc., is scanty. Inferences from the texts themselves provide
precious little information, including the likelihood that some victory-odes were per-
formed in the hometown of the victor. See John Herington, Poetry into Drama: Early
Tragedy and the Greek Poetic Tradition (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1985),
27–31; cf. Swift, The Hidden Chorus, 105–106; Webster, Greek Chorus, 105.
60
Standard editions of the victory-odes include: Snell and Maehler, Pindarus, vol. 1.
For fragments, see Maehler, Pindarus, vol. 2; Snell and Maehler, Bacchylides; Herwig
124 Chapter 3: The Context for Dramatic Choruses

essential information about the victor: his name, father’s name, city, the
contest won, previous victories, and past athletic victories by family mem-
bers. Also typically included were gnomic utterances, or aphorisms, which
framed the victor’s accomplishments in terms of universal human experi-
ences. For example, the success of the victor was often framed in terms of
his possession of a number of virtues that are claimed to have been requisite
for any such achievement. Thirdly, the odes are saturated with references
to the gods. These may take the form of introductory addresses and/or
invocations to various gods, prayers, or extended mythical narratives.61
Finally, in each poem there is typically some sort of self-reflection of the
poet on his own role as poet in composing the ode.
While these elements were more or less requisite elements of any
victory-ode, the order in which they appear varies considerably. In fact, the
poems so lack a consistent organizing principle that scholars have long
struggled to determine what gives the genre a unified structure.62 By con-
trast, the metrical structure of the victory-odes of Pindar and Bacchylides
are quite consistent, most often taking the form of a “triadic” or “epodic”
structure, in which there are two successive, metrically identical stanzas –
strophe and antistrophe – followed by a third stanza that is metrically dis-
similar to the first two, the epode. Taken as a whole, the metrical pattern of
each of these “triads” is constant throughout any given poem.

Paean
The paean remains one of the best attested genres of lyric poetry in Greece
during the Archaic and Classical periods.63 Not only is the paean attested
as a choral form in Epic poetry, Archaic Lyric poetry, and in the Classical
historians and dramatic playwrights, but a number of entire paeans of

Maehler, Die Lieder des Bakchylides. Erster Teil: Die Siegeslieder, 2 vols. (Leiden: Brill,
1982); David R. Slavitt, Epinician Odes and Dithyrambs of Bacchylides (Philadelphia:
University of Pennsylvania Press, 1998); Mary Lefkowitz, The Victory Ode: An Intro-
duction (Park Ridge, N.J.: Noyes Press, 1976); Swift, The Hidden Chorus, 104–118. On
the possibility that the victory-odes were performed by monodists, see Malcolm Heath,
“Receiving the κῶµος: The Context and Performance of Epinician,” AJP 109 (1988):
180–195.
61
“No poet [Pindar] is more insistent that all achievement and all glory, in fact all
elements of human life both good and bad, are the disposition of divinity.” Robbins,
“Public Poetry,” 262.
62
Some have proposed to reduce each poem to a single thematic statement that in-
forms each of its discrepant parts. See David C. Young, “Pindaric Criticism,” in Pindaros
und Bakchylides (ed. William M. Calder and Jacob Stern; Darmstadt: Wissenschaftliche
Buchgesellschaft, 1970), 1–95.
63
See Ian Rutherford, “Apollo in Ivy: The Tragic Paean,” Arion 3:1 (1994–1995):
112–118.
 3.4 Types of Choral Poetry 125

Pindar, Bacchylides, and Simonides survive nearly intact. While the ear-
liest form of the paean seems to have been simply an utterance directed to
a healing god in order to alleviate suffering,64 surviving paeans exhibit a
range of content, as well as structural and metrical elements that confirm
that at some point it attained a more complex form.65 In its more developed
form, the invocation to a god remained the only indispensable element of
the paean,66 but it often included other hymnic elements such as a narrative
aretalogy of the god (i.e., an accounting of the deity’s attributes and past
exploits), and a closing prayer. 67
With respect to the contexts of its performance, the paean seems to have
been performed most often by men,68 in a number of environments including
banquets/symposia,69 before a battle,70 after military victories,71 marriage
64
Its nature as a simple utterance is indicated by the appearance of the refrain ἰὴ
παιάν in the earliest literature (e.g., Hymn. Hom. 3.517). This was simply an invocation
of “Paean,” who appears as a healing god in Homer (Il. 5.401, 809–810), though the term
is later used as an epithet for the “healing” gods Apollo, Artemis, and (much later)
Asclepius. Given the nature of the deities invoked with this cry, it is widely thought that
the paean originally functioned as a petition to alleviate suffering.
65
For this reason, the surviving paeans are often thought to be advanced “ceremonial”
forms of poetry in contrast with more “spontaneous” invocations to a god, from which
ceremonial forms derived. For a typology of paeanic forms, see Rutherford, Pindar’s
Paeans, 18–23. Cf. Calame, Choruses, 78; Harvey, “Classification,” 172–173.
66
Rutherford, “Apollo in Ivy,” 114.
67
For a detailed description of paeanic contents and forms, see Rutherford, Pindar’s
Paeans, 68–83.
68
This presents a contrast with other forms of choral poetry with which women are
more commonly associated. Nevertheless, see choruses of girls performing paeans, as in
Euripides, Iph. Aul. 1467ff., and Hymn. Hom. 3.156ff. Moreover, in several scenes where
men are said to perform the paean, women are described in attendance performing an
accompaniment, as suggested by derivatives of the term ὀλολυγή. Although it is not
always clear what exactly the term connotes, it appears in texts not dealing with paeans
to denote female “cries,” as when Nestor dedicates an ox to Athena at Od. 3.450ff., or
when the Trojan women with Hecuba offer their veils to Athena in Il. 6.301. This is once
reversed in Sophocles, Trach. 205ff., where young girls sing the paean, and the men
make accompanying sounds. See Rutherford, Pindar’s Paeans, 58–63.
69
It appears that the paean was sung by all of the guests immediately after the liba-
tions were poured at the end of a banquet, to mark not only the end of the banquet but the
beginning of a symposium. E.g., Aeschylus, Ag. 245. See also Archilochus (Fr. 76 Diehl)
and Alcman (Fr. 71 Diehl). So, too, were paeans sung at military victory feasts, e.g.,
Xenophon, Hell. 7.2.23; Cyr. 4.1.7. See Rutherford, Pindar’s Paeans, 45–47. Cf. Harvey,
“Classification,” 162, 172.
70
For example, the soldiers under Xenophon’s command “sing the paean” just before
entering battle (Xenophon, Anab. 5.2.14), as do Cyrus’ commanders (Xenophon, Cyr.
3.3.58). The paean could signal the start of a military campaign as, e.g., Thucydides
6.32.2. See Rutherford, Pindar’s Paeans, 42ff.
71
The earliest literary reference to a paean appears in the Iliad where a victory-paean
is sung over the dead body of Hektor. Il. 22.391–394.
126 Chapter 3: The Context for Dramatic Choruses

ceremonies,72 and prior to, or during, travel.73 The lack of clear and con-
sistent formal features and performance contexts has led to the notion that
the single common element of the paean was a “supplicatory attitude.”74
That is, a paean could function to propitiate a god in certain circum-
stances, as a thanks-offering, to bring about healing, as a cultic accompani-
ment to sacrifice, and for celebratory functions.75

Dithyramb
The earliest fragment of a dithyramb is attributed to the poet Archilochus
(early 7th c. B.C.E.), though the tiny fragment does not reveal much about
the form or function of the dithyramb at this time, save perhaps its con-
nection to Dionysos, and the existence of a dithyrambic “leader.”76 After
Archilochus, dithyrambs are associated with a number of poets, most not-
ably Arion,77 Lasos,78 and Simonides,79 though none survive until Pindar
(518–442 B.C.E.), whose fragmentary dithyrambic evidence, along with the
six full dithyrambs of Bacchylides,80 constitute the bulk of extant dithy-
rambic evidence.
From this evidence, it is possible to say something of the distinctive
formal elements of the dithyramb. It was: (1) composed for choruses of 50

72
Sappho, Fr. 44.31 Voigt.
73
For instance, the Achaeans are said to “sing the beautiful paean” to appease Apollo
to send a favorable wind with which to sail to Troy (Il. 1.472). Cf. Hymn. Hom. 3.517; Il.
1.458ff.; Bacchylides 17.124ff.
74
E.g., Lutz Käppel, Paian: Studien zur Geschichte einer Gattung (Berlin/New York:
de Gruyter, 1992).
75
Rutherford, “Apollo in Ivy,” 113–114.
76
“I know how to lead the fair song of Lord Dionysus, the dithyramb, when my wits
are fused with wine.” Fr. 77 Diehl.
77
Arion was said to have been the “first man of those of whom we have knowledge to
compose, name, and teach a dithyramb in Corinth.” Herodotus 1.23. See also Schol. Pin-
dar, Ol. xiii. 19; Schol. Aristophanes, Av. 1403; Proclus, Chrest. 12; Suda, s.v. “Arion.”
78
E.g., Herodotus 7.6; Schol. Aristophanes, Av. 1403; Plutarch, [Mus.] 29.
79
Simonides himself claimed to have won 56 dithyrambic victories (Fr. 79 Diehl), yet
his work only survives in very fragmentary form. See John H. Molyneux, Simonides: A
Historical Study (Wauconda, Ill.: Bolchazy-Carducci, 1992); Anth. Pal. vi. 213; Strabo,
15.728.
80
There is some debate over whether or not Bacchylides’ poems are best character-
ized as dithyrambs. On the one hand, they were characterized as such in the compilations
of Lyric poetry in Alexandria, and by later commentators. However, the many dissimilar-
ities between the (so-called) dithyrambs of Bacchylides and the dithyrambs of Pindar, not
least of which is the fact that their content has nothing to do with Dionysos, call into the
question the characterization of Bacchylides’ poems as dithyrambs. See Burnett, The Art
of Bacchylides; Fagles, Bacchylides; David Fearn, Bacchylides: Politics, Performance,
and Poetic Tradition (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2007); Desmond A. Schmidt,
“Bacchylides 17: Paean or Dithyramb?,” Hermes 118 (1990): 18–31.
 3.4 Types of Choral Poetry 127

men and/or boys; (2) structured largely around heroic themes;81 (3) accom-
panied by an aulos, and perhaps other instruments;82 (4) saturated with
speeches in the first-person; and (4) likely to contain a highly wrought
vocabulary83 and considerable narrative content.84
From the beginning, dithyrambs seem to have had a connection to
Dionysos,85 evident in the earliest known dithyrambic fragment of Archi-
lochus, in which it is claimed that the dithyramb was the “song of Lord
Dionysos.”86 The association of the dithyramb with Dionysos is further
revealed in Pindar’s Olympian 13, in which Dionysos’ charms are said to
be revealed in the “ox-driving dithyrambs” (Pindar, Ol. 13.18), and in a
fragment of Aeschylus in which the worship of Dionysos is linked to the
dithyramb just as the worship of Apollo is associated with the paean.87
Dionysian themes, including in particular the story of his birth, were
consistent elements in these songs, as were praise of the deity’s attributes
and exploits.88 Accordingly, performances of dithyrambs often took place
under the auspices of a celebration for Dionysos, the best known being the
Great Dionysia in Athens. The Dionysian character of dithyrambs was ack-
nowledged by poets, grammarians, scholiasts, and commentators through-
out antiquity, though is critical to note that none of these ancient commen-
tators at any point claims that the dithyrambs were performed exclusively
within the parameters of the Dionysian cult.89
Dithyrambs are perhaps most germane to a discussion of the context of
dramatic choruses insofar as tragedy has long been thought to derive from
them. Both the fragment of Archilochus noted above, as well as Bacchy-
lides’ Dithyramb 18, suggest that at times there may have been some form
81
Arthur Pickard-Cambridge, Dithyramb, Tragedy, and Comedy (revised by Thomas
B. L. Webster; Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1962), 20ff.
82
Aristotle, Pol. 8.1432.
83
Plato, Crat. 409c; Horace, Carm. 4.2.10.
84
Plato, Rep. 3.394c; Horace, Carm. 4.2.10.
85
See e.g., Pat E. Easterling, “A Show for Dionysos,” in The Cambridge Companion
to Greek Tragedy (ed. Pat E. Easterling; Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1997),
36–53; Jean-Pierre Vernant, “The God of Tragic Fiction,” in Myth and Tragedy in Ancient
Greece (ed. Jean-Pierre Vernant and Pierre Vidal-Naquet; translated by Janet Lloyd; New
York: Zone Press, 1988), 181–188; Brian Vickers, Towards Greek Tragedy: Drama, Myth,
Society (London: Longmans, 1973), 33–41; Rainer Friedrich, “Drama and Ritual,” in
Drama and Religion (ed. James Redmond; Cambridge: Cambridge University Press,
1983), 159–223; and Rainer Friedrich, “Everything to Do with Dionysos? Ritualism, the
Dionysiac, and the Tragic,” in Tragedy and the Tragic (ed. Michael S. Silk; Oxford:
Oxford University Press, 1996), 257–283.
86
Fr. 120 West.
87
Plutarch, E Delph. 389b; cf. Plato, Leg. 3.700b.
88
Plato, Leg. 3.700b.
89
Euripides, Bacch. 523ff.; Menander, Dysk. 432; Pollux 1.38; Proclus, Chrest. 344–
345; Suda, s.v. dithyrambos.
128 Chapter 3: The Context for Dramatic Choruses

of interaction between the chorus and a chorus-leader. This phenomenon,

alongside Aristotle’s claim that tragedy and comedy arose “from the leaders
of the dithyramb,” suggests that at some point this dithyrambic interaction
between the chorus-leader and chorus became formalized, at which point
the chorus-leader began to take on a role vis-à-vis the chorus. Many ancient
and modern commentators consider this moment to constitute the birth of
tragedy.

Hymns and Choral Poetry

Having now surveyed some choral forms, it is possible to consider the
more complicated question of the relationship between these choral forms
and the Greek hymn. As discussed in Chapter 2, the term ὕµνος presents
definitional challenges because it was used in both a general sense, with
the term and its derivatives used to denote something that was sung, and in
a more precise sense as a form of praise for a deity. So, for example, on the
basis of these definitions, paeans and dithyrambs would seem to qualify as
hymns. The simple identification of paeans and dithyrambs (and other
choral songs) as hymns is complicated, however, by the fact that some
evidence suggests that the term hymn was used in antiquity not as a cat-
egory under which paeans, dithyrambs, and other choral genres might be
classified, but as a distinct choral genre amongst them. For instance, at the
library of Alexandria, a book of Pindar’s hymns was distinguished from a
book of his paeans and dithyrambs.90 Likewise, Plato seems to have identi-
fied the hymn, paean, and dithyramb, as distinct forms of song.91 Finally,
in his taxonomy of sacred songs, Proclus distinguished the “hymn proper,”
a song sung around the altar, from other choral forms.92
Responses to this evidence, which seems to be at odds with most other
ancient and modern definitions of hymn, have varied. Some assume there
must have existed at some point a specific choral hymnic form, i.e., a
“hymn proper” as Proclus suggested, distinct from the hymn more general-
ly defined.93 Most others have denied this, attempting instead to reconcile
the evidence for a specific choral hymnic form with what is said about

90
On the classification of lyric poetry in the Alexandrian Library, see Harvey,
“Classification,” 158ff. Cf. Hans Färber, Die Lyrik in der Kunsttheorie der Antike
(München: Neuer Filser, 1936).
91
“… and one form of song consisted of prayers to the gods – these were called
‘hymns’ – … and paeans were another form, and another, the birth of Dionysos, I think,
was called ‘dithyramb.’” Plato, Leg. 3.700b1–5.
92
It is unclear what else may have distinguished the “hymn proper” other than the fact
that it was sung around the altar. Proclus in Photius, Bibl. 320a 19–20. See Harvey,
“Classification,” 160ff.; Furley and Bremer, Greek Hymns, 10.
93
Harvey suggests that the “hymn proper” was a monostrophic poem sung by a
stationary chorus. Harvey, “Classification,” 166.
 3.5 Formal Features of Choral Poetry 129

hymns elsewhere. For example, Didymos acknowledged that hymns were

distinct from prosodia and paeans as a genus is distinct from a species.94
Others have suggested that the books of hymns from the library at Alex-
andria did not actually constitute a distinct generic form, but represented
miscellaneous hymnic forms that were not easily identified as another
type. 95

3.5 Formal Features of Choral Poetry

While choral genres can be distinguished on the basis of various formal,

functional, and performative qualities, they also share with one another
certain formal features, namely, metrical and dialectical tendencies, the
composition and size of the chorus, choreography, and musical accompani-
ment. The following consists of a survey of these formal features.

3.5.1 Meter
Choral poetic forms are distinguished in large part on the basis of particular
metrical patterns inherent in the verse, i.e., the meter of the verse. Any
poetic form, ancient or modern, is composed according to principles of
meter, or the formal rhythmic structures produced from the “natural rhyth-
mic movements of colloquial speech, so that pattern – which means repeti-
tion – emerges from the relative phonetic haphazard of ordinary utter-
ance.”96 In Greek and Latin poetry, patterns were determined on the basis

94
“The hymn is distinct from encomia, prosodia, and paeans, not in that the latter are
not hymns, but as genus is from species. For we call all forms of song for the gods
hymns, and add as a qualifying expression such as prosodion-hymn, paean-hymn, etc.”
Cf. Proclus (5 th c. C.E.), who wrote, “They called generically all compositions to the gods
hymns. That is the reason why one finds them relating the prosodion and the other genres
already mentioned to the hymn as species to genus. For one can observe them writing
‘prosodion-hymn’ or ‘enkomion-hymn’ or ‘paian-hymn’ and the like.” Proclus in Photius,
Bibl. 320a 12–17. See Furley and Bremer, Greek Hymns, 10–11.
95
“The emergence of separate books of hymns by Pindar or Bacchylides, then, as
opposed to their paians and dithyrambs, etc., may be attributed to the Alexandrians’
method of classification: any composition which could be clearly identified as a dithyramb
or paian or parthenion, etc. by compositional elements [e.g., the epiphthegma ἰὴ παιάν]
was categorized accordingly; the remainder, which defied specific classification, was put
into a book called ‘hymns,’ but actually equivalent to ‘miscellaneous hymns.’” Furley
and Bremer, Greek Hymns, 11. Cf. Joan A. Haldane, “The Greek Hymn, with Special Ref-
erence to the Athenian Drama of the Fifth Century” (Ph.D. diss., King’s College, 1963).
96
“… Because it inhabits the physical form of the very words themselves, meter is the
most fundamental technique of order available to the poet. The other poetic techniques of
order – rhyme, line division, stanzaic form, and overall structure – are all projections and
130 Chapter 3: The Context for Dramatic Choruses

of an assigned quantitative value for each syllable in the verse. That is,
each syllable was assigned a long or short value (quantity) on the basis of
the “natural” length of the vowel(s) in the syllable,97 or the position of the
vowel in relation to surrounding vowels and consonants.98 In metrical
notation, short values (syllables) are denoted with a breve: ( ˘ ). Long
values (syllables) are represented with a longum: ( –
). Combinations of
short and long syllables are the building blocks of the various rhythmic
patterns, or meters, of Greek poetry. 99 The basic metrical unit in the Greek
and Latin poetry is the foot, which consists of a set pattern of short and/or
long values, e.g.:

Iambus: ˘ – Trochee: –˘ Dactyl: – ˘˘

In several of the most common Greek metrical systems, e.g., the iambic,
trochaic, and anapaestic, the basic metrical unit is a metron, which
consists of two feet, e.g.:

Iambic metron: ˘ –˘– Trochaic metron: –˘–˘

Another basic metrical unit is the period, which consists of a certain
number of feet, or metra.100 A hexameter, for instance, contains six feet. A
pentameter consists of five feet (or metra), and so on. The period, often
indicated in a text as a line of verse, is the “fundamental self-contained
unit in metrical composition,” within which there is syntactic continuity,
and at the end of which there is syntactic interruption.101

magnifications of the kind of formalizing repetition which meter embodies …” Paul

Fussell, Jr., Poetic Meter and Poetic Form (New York: Random House, 1965), 5.
97
The “natural” lengths of vowels are determined by the time required to produce the
sound. Naturally long vowels (omega, eta, and all diphthongs) are those which require
more time to pronounce; naturally short vowels (epsilon and omicron) require less time
to produce.
98
That is, syllables that are short on the basis of “naturally” short vowels may become
long by position, and vice versa, though much less frequently, under a number of circum-
stances depending on which vowels, consonants, or combinations of consonants, immedi-
ately follow the (natural) vowel(s) in question. Most typically, if a short vowel is followed
by two consonants, including diphthongs, the syllable becomes long by position.
99
Syllables in English poetry are similarly assigned a long or short value. However,
the value is not determined in terms of the quantitative length of the vowels in the
syllable, but rather by stress or accent. That is, long syllables are those stressed, or ac-
cented, while short syllables are left unstressed/unaccented.
100
Or metra, if the smallest measured unit in the system is the metron.
101
West, Greek Metre, 5.
 3.5 Formal Features of Choral Poetry 131

Thus, metrical systems are identified on the basis of both the type of
feet (or metra), and the number of feet (or metra) in a period.102 A Dactylic
Hexameter consists of a period of six dactylic feet, while the Trochaic
Tetrameter consists of four trochaic metra, and so on.103 The first line of
Homer’s Odyssey demonstrates a straightforward example of the Dactylic
Hexameter, where six dactyls constitute one line, or period, of verse:
1 2 3 4 5 6
– ˘ ˘ –
˘ ˘ –
˘ ˘ ˘ ˘ – ˘ ˘ – – – // 104

ἄνδρα µοι ἔννεπε, µοῦσα, πολύτροπον, ὃς µάλα πολλὰ

Poetic forms are distinguished in large part on the basis of the degree to
which they operate according to these metrical systems, and according to
the extent to which they exhibit specific tendencies within these systems.
In other words, combinations of metrical systems and tendencies produce
varieties of poetic verse. For example, the Epic poetry of Homer, Hesiod,
and the Homeric Hymns, is so designated on the basis of the consistent use
of the Dactylic Hexameter, while the so-called “Iambic poets”105 make
much use of similar forms of the Iambic and Trochaic Trimeter and Tetra-
meter, and so on.106
Choral poetry is so designated on the basis of its metrical qualities, and
primarily its strophic character. That is, two types of poetry are typically
distinguished107 on the basis of the type of repetition of periods of verse:

102
For a brief description of the meters common in Greek poetry, see James W. Hal-
porn, Martin Ostwald, and Thomas G. Rosenmeyer, The Meters of Greek and Latin
Poetry (2 nd ed.; Norman, Okla.: University of Oklahoma Press, 1980), 10–55; cf. Paul
Maas, Greek Metre (transl. Hugh Lloyd-Jones; Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1962), 59–71.
103
This and every other Greek metrical system allows for a degree of flexibility. E.g.,
the first short syllable in an iambic metron is not always short. In its place may be one
long syllable, or two short syllables. Substitutions like these are determined on the basis
of a number of fairly consistent criteria.
104
In the last dactyl, the two breve syllables have been replaced with one longum, a
common substitution in any poetic system, but characteristic of the hexameter in particu-
lar. The resulting foot, consisting of two long syllables, is called a spondee.
105
E.g., Hipponax, Archilochus, and Ananius.
106
Broader trajectories are determined on the basis of metrical affinities amongst
poets who employ these systems. For instance, all of Epic and Elegaic poetry falls under
the rubric of the “Ionian” tradition insofar as each manifests similar forms of the Dactylic
Hexameter, Iambic Trimeter, and Trochaic Trimeter, while the poetry of Sappho and
Alcaeus comes under the heading of the “Aeolic” tradition on the basis of their use of
similar cola. See Halporn et al., The Meters of Greek and Latin Poetry, 12–13; West,
Greek Metre, 29–56.
107
A third mode of delivery, recitative, is sometimes distinguished from spoken and
lyric verse, and is thought to have resembled something similar to chanting. While some
ancient authors seem to distinguish between spoken and recited verse, recitative is not
clearly distinguishable from spoken verse, as it conforms to a stichic metrical pattern,
132 Chapter 3: The Context for Dramatic Choruses

(1) Stichic; and (2) Strophic.108 A stichic pattern consists of the continual
repetition of the metrical pattern of a single period. For example, the repe-
tition of periods of Dactylic Hexameter in Epic poetry represents a stichic
pattern. In other words, single periods are simply repeated throughout the
poem, with various alterations and substitutions as allowed by convention.
By contrast, strophic repetition consists of the repetition of the metrical
pattern of a number of often metrically heterogeneous periods. A number
of periods taken together constitutes a metrical whole – i.e., a strophe. A
single strophic pattern “A” could simply be repeated, e.g., A//A//A//A//…
etc.,109 or multiple strophic patterns could interact in the same poem, e.g.,
A//A//B//B//C//C//… etc. The repetition of strophes, and the varieties
thereof, is called responsion. In addition to the metrical variety produced
with different forms of strophic responsion, strophic repetition allowed for
far more complicated metrical forms than did stichic repetition, as several
metrical systems were often employed within a strophe. That is, varieties
of polymetry could be exhibited in a single strophe.
Stichic and strophic repetition is further distinguished by the fact that
particular metrical systems are associated with one or the other. So, for
example, the most common meters for stichic verse were forms of the
Dactylic Hexameter as in Epic poetry, as well as the Iambic Trimeter and

and exhibits metrical systems that are nearly always spoken. Complicating matters is the
fact that the terms used for speaking, reciting, and singing, are ambiguous. E.g.,
καταλέγειν is used to denote speaking in some contexts, and chanting in others. So, when
ancient authors are referring to the performance(s) of ancient poets or actors, it is unclear
whether their use of καταλέγειν refers to speaking or chanting. In other words, ancient
authors used similar terms to describe what appear to be different modes of delivery. It
may be that recitative referred to verse that was spoken with a musical accompaniment,
in order to denote a contrast from verse that was spoken without accompaniment. At any
rate, recitation is often most considered under the rubric of spoken verse. See Eric Csapo
and William J. Slater, The Context of Ancient Drama (Ann Arbor: University of Michigan
Press, 1995), 334–335.
108
These two basic patterns are not just evident to modern commentators, but ancient
authors themselves made this essential distinction. E.g., Pseudo-Plutarch, writing about
Archilochus’ invention of the Iambic Trimeter, says that “some iambics could be spoken
to musical accompaniment and others sung …” Plutarch, [Mus.] 1140f–1141a. Much
more evidence concerns modes of delivery in Classical drama. For instance, Aristotle
contrasts “parts that are delivered with meter alone against others (that) are delivered
with song.” Aristotle, Poet. 1449b24ff. Pseudo-Aristotle also distinguishes between reci-
tation and songs in [Prob.] 19.6. Finally, a 14th-century manuscript containing material
from Hellenistic authors contrasts “song” and “recitative.” Michael Psellos, On Tragedy,
61–66. See Csapo and Slater, The Context of Ancient Drama, 335.
109
This was the pattern of Sappho and Alcaeus.
 3.5 Formal Features of Choral Poetry 133

Tetrameter, and the Trochaic Tetrameter.110 Alternatively, a (larger) num-

ber of meters were associated with strophic repetition, including forms of
the Aeolic, Dochmiac, and Dactylo-Epitrite.
Verse that conforms to a stichic pattern, and appears in one of the metri-
cal systems closely associated with stichic repetition, is thought to have
been spoken, with or without musical accompaniment.111 Alternatively,
verse that conforms to a strophic pattern, and which appears in a metrical
system associated with strophic metrical repetition, is thought to have been
sung, and accompanied by a stringed instrument such as the lyre, or a pipe
instrument such as the aulos. As such, strophic verse is commonly desig-
nated lyric poetry. 112
Choral poetry is thus designated on the basis of the fact that it exhibits
both complicated polymetric strophes, as well as the fact that it exhibits a
particular type of responsion, i.e., epodic or triadic, which consists of the
repetition of the metrical pattern of the first strophe in an antistrophe,
followed by a metrically dissimilar epode: A//A//B//A//A//B//… etc.113
Choral poetry has long been identified on these metrical grounds.

110
These meters were used in strophic verse, most often either comingled with other
lyric meters in a polymetric strophe, or altered with various “lyric” modifications, such
that it is most common to distinguish between lyric and non-lyric iambics, dactyls, etc.
111
It is unclear whether “spoken” verse was accompanied by a musical instrument.
Performances of poetry in Homer are said to be sung with a phorminx. However, by the
7 th century, Epic poetry of this sort seems to have been recited without musical instru-
ments, as evidenced by vases depicting poets performing without instrument(s), and the
(scant) testimony of ancient authors. See Andrew Barker, ed., Greek Musical Writings.
Vol. 1: The Musician and His Art (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1984), 18–
61.
112
In its earliest usage, lyric poetry referred to verse that was accompanied by a lyre,
or some other stringed instrument. Lyric poetry in this sense may have been considered a
poetic genre as early as the late Classical period, when Aristotle distinguished poetry that
was accompanied by a kithara, a type of stringed instrument related to the lyre, from
Epic poetry, dramatic poetry, etc. Aristotle, Poet. 8.1447a. At some point, it seems that
lyric poetry came to denote verse that adhered to a broader set of formal, stylistic, and
aesthetic conventions, although the criteria are not made explicit. Greek lyric poetry
today most commonly refers to the entirety of poetic material produced in the Greek-
speaking world from about the 7th c. B.C.E. to the mid-5 th c. B.C.E., excluding the Epic
poetry of Homer, Hesiod, et al., and the dramatic poetry of the Classical playwrights.
Encompassing a wide range of material over nearly two centuries, lyric poetry exhibits
great diversity in terms of form, functional value, geographic provenance, performance
context, and exigency. Yet, adherence to particular metrical properties sets it apart gen-
erically from other poetic modes.
113
Choral poetry thus designated is differentiated from other forms of lyric poetry,
e.g., monodic poetry, which is lyric insofar as it exhibits strophic responsion, but reveals
less complicated polymetric strophes and different kinds of non-epodic strophic respon-
sion. Halporn et al., The Meters of Greek and Latin Poetry, 34.
134 Chapter 3: The Context for Dramatic Choruses

3.5.2 Dialect
Lyric poetry is often said to have exhibited Doric tendencies,114 most
conspicuous of which is the long ā (the so-called Doric alpha115) in place
of the long ē as it appears regularly in the Attic dialect.116 Some of the
earliest and best known choral lyric poets arose from Doric cities, such as
Archilochus (Paros), Arion (Methymnae), Simonides (Cos), and Lasus
(Hermione). Regardless of this fact, Doric forms were employed in non-
dramatic lyric poetry in non-Doric regions (e.g., Ionic cities), suggesting
that the dialect was widely associated with lyric poetry, and not merely a
regional preference. So, for example, Bacchylides, who was from the island
of Keos, employed Doric forms in spite of the fact that his native dialect
was Ionic.

3.5.3 Composition of Choruses

A chorus most often consisted entirely of either male or female members.
This fact is confirmed by the iconographic record, in which 94% of the
roughly 116 depictions of choruses in public Greek art from the 9th to the
4th c. B.C.E. consist of either male or female members,117 and by the literary
record, where the names of choruses preserved in extant choral poetry de-
note one sex or the other.118 This same evidence also suggests that female
choruses were more prevalent than male choruses.119
Choruses also tended to consist of persons who bore some kind of
relationship with one another. So, for instance, choruses tended to be
constituted entirely by members of one of three age groups: (1) Children;
(2) Post-pubescent adults who were not married; or (3) Married adults.120

114
E.g., Race, Pindar, 14–15, esp. n. 16.
115
The designation of the long ā as a “Doric” feature is somewhat misleading insofar
as it was common in most non-Attic dialects. See J. Herington, Poetry into Drama, 113.
116
E.g., ἀρετά instead of ἀρετή. See Race, Pindar, 14ff.; cf. Armand D’Angour, “How
the Dithyramb Got Its Shape,” CQ 47.2 (1997): 332.
117
Roger Crowhurst, “Representations of Performances of Choral Lyric on the Greek
Monuments 800–350 B.C.” (Ph.D. diss., University of London, 1963), 208ff. For a sur-
vey of the archaeological material relating to Greek choruses from the Archaic to the
Hellenistic period, see Webster, Greek Chorus, 1–45.
118
Much less frequently, choruses seem to have consisted of members of both sexes,
as in Homer, Od. 23.147; Il. 18.567, 590. “Mixed” choruses were perhaps more common
when the choruses consisted of pre-pubescent or adolescent choruses, as in Homer, Il.
18.593; Euripides, Bacch. 120ff.; Herodotus 3.48; etc. See Calame, Choruses, 26, n. 29.
For depictions of mixed choruses, see Crowhurst, “Representations,” 219ff.; Renate
Tölle, Frühgriechische Reigentänze (Waldsassen: Stiftland-Verlag, 1964), 54ff.
119
Calame, Choruses, 25.
120
This can be established on several grounds. The term ἡλίκες appears in several
sources to denote the fact that choruses consisted of people of the same age. In addition,
 3.5 Formal Features of Choral Poetry 135

Likewise, choruses appear to have been comprised of members who came

from the same geographic location. This is apparent in descriptions of
mythical and actual choruses, who are most often described as having
come from the same geographic locale,121 and often from the very same
family. 122 Finally, the frequent use of terms such as φίλος, ἑταῖρος, and
ὁµηλίκος, to characterize the relations of chorus members to one another
conveys close relationships.123

3.5.4 Size of Choruses

The fragments of choral poetry offer very little evidence as to the intended
or actual size of the chorus, and as such, determinations as to the size of
lyric choruses in Greek antiquity are limited to visual representations of
choruses and descriptions of choruses in literature. From the visual evi-
dence it appears that choruses varied a great deal in size: depictions of
choruses on public and private art range in size from two to eighty. 124 It
must be stated first of all that the size of a chorus depicted in art is not a
sure indication of how many people were actually being represented.
Visual representations of choruses may be misleading as the number of
choreutai depicted on a medium was limited in large part to the size of the
medium, as well as the space on the medium suitable for depictions. Such
limitations shed light on several aspects related to the size of choruses as it

choruses are often identified in terms which reliably denote age. For example, married
men and women are consistently denoted by the terms ἄνδρες and γυναῖκες, while post-
pubescent but unmarried girls are variously called κόραι, παρθένοι, and νύµφαι. Both
pre-pubescent boys and girls are called παῖδες. Because this term does not carry a gender
connotation, it is not always clear when it refers to a chorus of boys or girls. Finally,
choruses comprised of members of similar ages is envisioned and assumed by commen-
tators such as Plato, in his description of the processions of choruses. Plato, Leg. 2.664c–
d. See Calame, Choruses, 26–30.
121
E.g., the Muses are often denoted as coming from the same region, as they are
referred to as the Pierides (“daughters of Pieria”), the Olympiades (“daughters of Olym-
pos”), or the Helikoniades (“daughters of Helicon). Likewise, the mythical rivals of the
Muses, the Emathids, are said to have been born in Emathia. See Calame, Choruses, 30–
31.
122
Very often choruses are explicitly identified as members of a family, e.g., θυγα-
τέρες, κόραι, παῖδες, τέκνα. So, the Danaides were daughters of Danaos, the Neirides
were daughters of Nereus, and several choruses were considered to have been the off-
spring of Zeus, including most notably the Nymphs and the Muses. The characterization
of a chorus on the basis of its relation to a geographic locale and/or familial role is most
often signified by the fact that the name of the chorus includes a derivation of -ιδ-, -αδ-,
-τισ-, or -τησ- which denotes belonging, either to a geographic area or family. See Ca-
lame, Choruses, 30–33.
123
See Calame, Choruses, 33–34.
124
See Crowhurst, “Representations,” 205ff. For female choruses, see Tölle, Früh-
griechische Reigentänze, 55–56; Calame, Choruses, 21–25.
136 Chapter 3: The Context for Dramatic Choruses

can be ascertained from visual evidence, not least of which is the fact that
the number of choreutai depicted is likely to be smaller than the number of
choreutai that are being represented. In other words, just as artists could
indicate a building by depicting a single column or a landscape by a single
tree, so could a large chorus be depicted by just a few choreutai.125 With
this caveat in mind, between two and fifteen choreutai are most often
depicted in pre-Classical art, and from the mid-sixth century on this range
falls consistently between three and eight.126
Choruses of various sizes are also attested in a number of literary de-
scriptions. Alcman’s first partheneion suggests a performance of either ten
or eleven girls. The dithyramb is said to have been performed by a fifty-
person chorus, as attested by an epigram of Simonides.127 Fifty is also the
number of daughters of Nereus, who “dance as a chorus” (ἐχόρευσαν) in
Euripides’ depiction of the mythical wedding of Thetis and Peleus in Iphi-
genia at Aulis,128 as well as those who “sing as a circular chorus” in Iphi-
genia at Tauris.129 While the number in a chorus could be larger,130 most
often it was much smaller than fifty.

3.5.5 Dancing
Dancing appears to have been a defining element of choral activity, as
attested by the earliest depictions of choruses in Epic literature,131 the direct
and passing statements of ancient commentators, as well as archaeological,
epigraphic, and artistic remains. A fundamental relationship between poetry
and dance is revealed by the fact that the elemental measure of poetry is
the foot.132 Moreover, many poems – choral or otherwise – begin with an
invocation to join in, or to observe, the dance that accompanied the
poetry. 133 Dance is considered to have been such an essential part of choral
125
“To the painter, sculptor, or maker of figurine, it was evidently sufficient to sug-
gest the presence of a plurality of performers and their degree of conformity with the
group as a whole … If he did choose or was commissioned to paint a choral performance
he abridged the scene.” Crowhurst, “Representations,” 206–208.
126
Crowhurst, “Representations,” 206.
127
Simonides, Epigram 76.
128
Here the daughters of Nereus are said to “dance as a chorus.” Euripides, Iph. Aul.
1037–1059.
129
Euripides, Iph. Taur. 425ff.
130
For instance, Callimachus may describe two choruses in the Hymn to Artemis, one
of sixty Oceanides, and the other of twenty Nymphs. Callimachus, Hymn. Art. 13–17.
See Calame, Choruses, 23, n. 16.
131
That is, the very definition of chorus in Epic poetry relates to the act of dancing, or
the dancing-floor. See the discussion at the beginning of this chapter.
132
Herbert W. Smyth, Greek Melic Poets (London: MacMillan, 1906), xvii–cxxxiv.
133
E.g., Sappho, Fr. 60 and 65 Bergk; Anacreon, Fr. 69 Bergk; Pindar, Ol. 14.1–20.
Hesiod, Theog. 1ff.
 3.5 Formal Features of Choral Poetry 137

performance that many scholars when referring to ancient choral activity

speak of the “chorus-dance.”
While there was quite certainly a strong connection between choral
poetry and dancing, frustratingly little can be determined as to the precise
shapes and movements of Greek choral dances. Much of the literary testi-
mony for choral dance is extremely general in nature, or from a very late
date,134 and in many cases not terribly helpful for precise reconstructions
of choreography. Moreover, there exists nothing in the way of notation in
the poetry itself (with the possible exception of the designations strophe,
antistrophe, and epode) that would indicate dance steps or patterns. This
may be the result of the fact either that choral dances were improvisational
in nature, or that they were so well known that notation would have been
superfluous.135
With literary evidence most often ambiguous and/or deficient, artistic
remains often serve as primary evidence with which to reconstruct ancient
choral dancing. Extant art from the earliest periods of Greek history depict
choral gestures and postures, and the data set only increases into the
Archaic and Classical periods. From such data it is possible to catalogue
all kinds of gestures, postures, and movements,136 though it is not often the

134
For example, the accuracy of statements of Roman authors writing in the Imperial
period who classify Greek dance movements is unclear. They specify a large number of
schemata, or “brief, distinctive patterns visible in the course of a dance,” including “hand
flat down,” “sword-thrust,” “two-foot,” “elbows out,” “spin turn,” and many others.
Likewise, they speak of phora, which denoted the movement of the hands, feet, or the
whole body, and included such movements as “walking, running, leaping, twisting …
skipping, hopping, etc.” Finally, deixis referred to those movements that portrayed
mythical characters, a person, animal, heavenly body, wind, flame, etc. Lillian B. Lawler,
The Dance in Ancient Greece (London: A. & C. Black, 1964), 25–27.
135
“If the steps and gestures accompanying the choral meters were fairly standardized
(allowing perhaps for variations from polis to polis, like the Morris dance steps from
village to village in England), then it is easy to imagine every citizen learning them
directly by practice as part of his early education. Such practice would have been an
adjunct to athletics and military drills, and no more likely to profit from a notation
system than practice in the broad jump or the javelin would have. And if the traditional
steps and gestures were then arranged in some pleasing new sequences by way of
interpreting the newly composed choral text, then that would have been something for the
chorodidaskalos to work out with the chorus in the period before the performance, and
after the performance to forget about.” Mullen, Choreia, 43.
136
For example, in his catalogue of evidence for choruses in Greek art, Webster lists a
variety of postures, including “forward kick, one knee raised, the other leg bent,” “arm
bent with hand on hip,” “walk, legs fairly close together,” and “arms linked, usually by
hand clasping partner’s wrist.” Webster, Greek Chorus, 3–4. See also Lillian B. Lawler,
“Phora, Schema, Deixis in the Greek Dance,” Transactions and Proceedings of the
American Philological Association 85 (1954): 148–158.
138 Chapter 3: The Context for Dramatic Choruses

case that any of these can be associated with particular choral forms and/or
dances.
At the same time, artistic evidence presents problems insofar as artistic
conventions, as well as the limitations of the artistic medium, often prevent
an accurate reconstruction of choral movements. On one hand, Greek art
was often “deliberately unrealistic” and concerned as much with “ideal
beauty, design, balance, rhythm, linear schemes, and stylization” as with
accurate depictions of things that could be seen in real life.137 On the other
hand, limited artistic mediums often contributed to these stylized depic-
tions,138 which make it difficult to reconstruct choral choreography. For
example, if choristers are depicted all the way around a circular vase, it is
unclear whether this is meant to represent dancers moving in a circle, or a
straight processional line.139 Despite the paucity and problematic nature of
the evidence for choral dancing, it is possible to make some general ob-
servations about choral choreography.140

General Formations
Perhaps the most common choral formation was the processional. This
could be inferred simply from the ubiquity of processionals in ancient Greek
culture, and their corresponding social, educational, and political import-

137
Lawler, The Dance in Ancient Greece, 17; cf. J. Richard Green, “On Seeing and
Depicting the Theatre in Classical Athens,” GRBS 32 (1991): 15–50.
138
Lawler summarizes this problem succinctly: “… in all periods of Greek painting
the figures portrayed are adapted to the space at the painter’s disposal, and poses and
details are altered freely to suit the design for that space. If the space is small, a large
group of dancers may be reduced arbitrarily to two or three … If the space to be filled is
circular or approximately so, the dancers may be reduced to one typical performer. Fur-
ther, in all forms of Greek art, movement, if violent, may be toned down and softened. In
the archaic period, complicated poses which the artist could not depict accurately are
simplified. In both relief and painting the technique is shallow and pattern-like; the
figures seem flattened out and pasted side by side, so to speak, with little or no depth or
background, and usually little or no overlapping figures. These conventions, also, must
not be taken literally … The Greek never solved the problem of perspective … Garments
are usually not depicted realistically … The Greek vase painter often draws figures
without a ‘floor line’ …” Lawler, The Dance in Ancient Greece, 17–19.
139
D’Angour, “How the Dithyramb Got Its Shape,” 347.
140
Others simply lament the fact that a full reconstruction is rendered impossible due
to the lack of evidence, and choose not to pursue the choreographic elements of choral
poetry. “Habit and amnesia, in effect, combine to keep us from reading the texts of Greek
odes in the light of their nature as dance. It is easy, after all, to abandon the attempt by
asserting that the details of any particular choral performance have vanished … Wisdom
has seemed therefore to consist in dismissing the dance component in choreia with brief
expressions of regret.” Mullen, Choreia, 4.
 3.5 Formal Features of Choral Poetry 139

ance.141 That some choral performances were first and foremost procession-
als is suggested by the fact that processional songs (prosodia) constituted a
distinct choral genre in the Alexandrian collection of lyric poetry. More-
over, Pindar is known to have written choral poetry specifically for the
Daphnephoria processionals in Thebes. Processional dithyrambs are per-
haps implied by the fact that Pindar gives the epithet “ox-driving” to the
dithyramb,142 with the implication that the dithyramb accompanied the
procession of an ox to the sacrificial altar. Processional choruses might be
described in the description of Achilles’ shield in the Iliad, in which it is
said that choruses sometimes danced in a circle, and at other times in
lines.143
The surest evidence of processional choruses, however, comes in the
form of artistic remains which depict them, and in fact, most depictions of
choruses appear to represent processional movement.144 Representations of
processions are typically identified when choreutai are depicted in a single-
file, and do not appear to be oriented around a tree, altar, aulos-player, or
some other central object.145 Often the choral procession is led by an aulos-
player, and the choreutai are shown with linked hands. In many cases,
specific types of processions can be identified, such as wedding or sacri-
ficial processions.
Circular choral dancing is also widely attested. A range of terms signi-
fying circularity are employed in descriptions of mythical choruses, as is
Theseus’ chorus of maidens in Callimachus’ Hymn to Delos,146 the Nymphs
in Callimachus’ Hymn to Artemis,147 and the Nereides and Deliades as they
141
Burkert: “The fundamental medium of group formation is the procession, pompe …
Hardly a festival is without a pompe.” Burkert goes on to argue that the importance of
processionals in festival contexts is revealed by the fact that the expression “to send a
procession,” came to denote the celebration of a festival, and to highlight some of the
better known cultic processionals, e.g., the Mystery Religions of Dionysos and Demeter,
the Panathenaic processional of the peplos of Athena, and the Daphnephoria festival of
the Apollo cult. Walter Burkert, Greek Religion (Cambridge, Mass.: Harvard University
Press, 1985), 99–101.
142
Pindar, Ol. 13.19.
143
Il. 18.590ff. Insofar as the term στίχες denotes an “ordered line,” the simplest ex-
planation of the term in this context is that it denoted a processional line. For an etymolo-
gical discussion of the term, see Walter Burkert, “Στοιχεῖον: Eine semasiologische Studie,”
Phil 103 (1959): 180ff. The notion that the term describes a processional chorus is sup-
ported by Xenophon of Ephesus’ use of the term to denote a processional of young
persons (Ephesiaca 1.2.3). However, its use in this context is taken by some to mean a
rectangular shape constituted by lines and rows of choreutai, or the movement of “lines
which danced in a circle in opposite directions to each other.” Calame, Choruses, 40.
144
Crowhurst, “Representations,” 283–286; Tölle, Frühgriechische Reigentänze, 58ff.
145
Such depictions are thought to represent circular choruses.
146
Callimachus, Hymn. Del. 310ff.
147
Callimachus, Hymn. Art. 170ff., 237ff.
140 Chapter 3: The Context for Dramatic Choruses

are described by Euripides.148 A circular movement is also likely implied

when choruses are said to be oriented around a center-point (typically
denoted with a derivative of µέσος),149 or said to move around a central
object, such as a tree, altar, music-player, or chorus-leader.150
Visual evidence from pre-historic, Archaic, and Classical periods attests
to the popularity of circular choruses through each of these periods. The
earliest such evidence comes from the island of Crete, a place that had
become very closely associated with dancing in antiquity, 151 and that was
imagined by some to have been the birthplace of dance.152 Similar visual
evidence from later periods confirms forms of circular dancing on the
Greek mainland. For example, a bronze statuette from Olympia dated to
the 8th c. B.C.E. portrays a group of seven dancing women whose arms are
interlocked in a circle. From this point on, circular choruses are portrayed
on all kinds of artistic mediums well into the Classical period.153
Some genres of choral poetry may have been particularly associated with
circular dances, including most notably the dithyramb. The opening lines
from one of Pindar’s own dithyrambs suggest that in his day dithyrambs
were accompanied by circular dances,154 and this seems to have been stan-
dard practice for a generation or more prior to him.155 In fact, the dithyramb
became so closely associated with circular dancing in the 5th century that it

148
Euripides, Iph. Taur. 427ff.; Iph. Aul. 1055ff.; Euripides, Herc. fur. 687ff.
149
E.g., Il. 18.567ff., 590ff.; Od. 4.17ff.; 8.256ff.; Pindar, Nem. 5.22ff.; Hesiod,
[Scut.] 201ff.
150
Callimachus, Hymn. Del. 310ff.; Euripides, Tro. 551ff.
151
The phrase “the Cretans are dancers” appears to have been a stock phrase in litera-
ture from the Iliad (e.g., 16.617) to Athenaeus (e.g., 14.630b).
152
A fresco from the palace at Knossos appears to depict a woman participating in a
circular dance, and golden rings found in the palace portray women in a circular dance.
Terracotta figures from the eastern Cretan port of Palaikastro depict women dancing
around a male lyre-player. Likewise, a terracotta group from Cyprus that dates to the late
13th c. B.C.E. depicts a circular dance of three individuals around a flute player, while
another portrays several figures dancing back-to-back around the trunk of a tree. Lawler,
The Dance in Ancient Greece, 31–39, 72, fig. 41; Lillian B. Lawler, “The Dancing
Figures from Palaikastro – A New Interpretation,” AJA 44 (1940): 106–107; John L.
Myres, Handbook of the Cesnola Collection of Antiquities from Cyprus (New York:
Metropolitan Museum of Art, 1914); cf. Lawler, The Dance in Ancient Greece, 52–54.
153
For a survey of artistic depictions of circular choruses, see Crowhurst, “Represen-
tations”; cf. Tölle, Frühgriechische Reigentänze.
154
“Formerly the singing of dithyrambs proceeded in a straight line, and the ‘s’
emerged straggling to men from human lips; but now youths are spread out wide in well-
centered circles, knowing well what kind of Bromios-revel Olympian gods likewise by
Zeus’ scepter hold in their halls.” Pindar, Fr. 70 Bergk. Pickard-Cambridge, Dithyramb,
23; D’Angour, “How the Dithyramb Got Its Shape,” 331–351.
155
Different traditions attributed the origins of the circular dance of the dithyramb to
different parties. See D’Angour, “How the Dithyramb Got Its Shape,” 331–351.
 3.5 Formal Features of Choral Poetry 141

was often referred to simply as the “circular chorus.”156 So, too, is the
dithyramb depicted as a circular chorus in art beginning at the end of the
5th c. B.C.E.157
While processional and circular choruses seem to have been the most
common forms of choral choreography, visual evidence exists for choruses
of different shapes, including the so-called “V-shaped” choruses. These are
seen depicted on several vases as two approximately equal lines of choreu-
tai facing each other,158 or in a side-by-side arrangement, in which figures
are depicted overlapping in such a way as to indicate an arrangement in
pairs, or rows of three or greater.159 While visual evidence suggests such
formations, there are no indications of their existence in extant non-dra-
matic choral poetry, or in the commentaries of later authors with respect to
non-dramatic poetry.

Choreography
It seems likely that choral choreography was related to the patterns inher-
ent in the metrical systems, with the rhythms of the words and movements
somehow aligned.160 It could hardly have been coincidental that the foot
came to denote the basic unit of a metrical system, most likely owing to
the close relationship between the rhythms of the metrical systems and of

156
E.g., Schol. Pindar Ol. 13.36. Arthur Pickard-Cambridge, The Dramatic Festivals
of Athens (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1989), 32; D’Angour, “How the Dithyramb
Got Its Shape,” 346; Bernhard Zimmermann, Dithyrambos: Geschichte einer Gattung
(Göttingen: Verlag Antike, 1992), 25.
157
The so-called “Phrynichos” krater (c. 425 B.C.E.) seems to be the “earliest uncon-
testable depiction of a formal dithyramb.” D’Angour, “How the Dithyramb Got Its
Shape,” 347.
158
It is debated whether the V-shaped chorus constituted a distinct choreographic
movement, an intermediate choreographic stage somewhere between a circle and pro-
cessional, or a conventional way to represent a circular chorus on a difficult medium.
Crowhurst, “Representations,” 293–298; Calame, Choruses, 37.
159
It is unclear whether such depictions are meant to represent a single row, or several
rows, of choreutai. As was noted above, artistic conventions allowed for just a few
choreutai to represent a much larger chorus. Thus, it may be that the depiction of a single
row of choreutai represents multiple rows. Crowhurst, “Representations,” 286–289.
160
“The premise without which no further deductions are possible, of course, is that
the meter of the words and the figures of the dance flow from the same rhythm. This need
not mean anything so literal as that there was one motion of the foot for every syllable of
the language … Underlying all the refinements it must always have been the case that the
dance was blocked out by the same units of composition that shaped the words, and that
ultimately the same unifying rhythm was flowing from the brains of the dancers into their
voices and muscles and thence out to the eyes and ears of everyone present. The notion
of any poet fitting words into the extraordinarily demanding patterns of the Greek choral
meters and then throwing them away by arranging a choreography completely unrelated
to them will not stand up to examination.” Mullen, Choreia, 90–91.
142 Chapter 3: The Context for Dramatic Choruses

the corresponding dances. To this effect, the ancient commentator Damon

claimed that the dance should not “stray beyond the meter of the words”
(Athenaeus 14.628c).
Widespread is the theory that particular metrical systems reflected, con-
veyed, and/or created particular moods, and that the dances accompanying
choral poetry would have been related to the moods conveyed by the
metrical systems. For example, it is thought that insofar as lyric dactyls
engendered a “hieratic” mood,161 they would have been accompanied by
similarly hieratic dances. Likewise, the dochmiac meter, which is thought
by some to have conveyed feelings of excitement, distraction, and anima-
tion, would have been accompanied by frenzied dances. Associating par-
ticular meters with corresponding emotional states is conjectural at best,
and complicated by the fact that different metrical systems seem to have
conveyed very different emotional effects,162 or no emotional connotations
at all.163
Choreographic movements may have been correlated with patterns of
strophic and epodic responsion. Such a notion is suggested first of all by the
words used to denote the stanzas in lyric poetry: strophe, and antistrophe,
which mean “turn” and “counter-turn,” respectively.164 While testimony
for this phenomenon is lacking from earlier periods, many Roman authors
attest to the notion that the strophe and antistrophe indicated the turning
and counter-turning of the chorus, and that the epode denoted a stationary
chorus.165 Lacking specific notations, it is unclear what precisely turning
and counter-turning may have entailed.166

161
Halporn et al., The Meters of Greek and Latin Poetry, 19–20.
162
A. M. Dale, who analyzed the metrical systems in all of Greek tragedy, concludes
that “one and the same meter can be used to convey the most diverse effects.” Amy
Marjorie Dale, The Collected Papers of A. M. Dale (ed. Thomas B. L. Webster and E.
Gardner Turner; Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1969), 257.
163
Leo Aylen, The Greek Theater (Cranbury, N.J.: Associated University Presses,
1985), 104ff.
164
Francesca D’Alfonso, Stesicoro e la performance (Rome: GEI, 1994).
165
For these texts, see Mullen, Choreia, 225–230. Cf. Färber, Die Lyrik in der Kunst-
theorie der Antike, 14–19.
166
The chorus may have turned clockwise during the strophe, and rotated counter-
clockwise during the antistrophe. Perhaps less likely is the suggestion that the dance
movements of the strophe were performed in reverse order during the antistrophe. See
John G. Landels, Music in Ancient Greece and Rome (London: Routledge, 1999), 124.
 3.5 Formal Features of Choral Poetry 143

3.5.6 Musical Elements

By all accounts, music was an indispensable part of lyric poetry generally,
and of choral performance in particular.167 After all, lyric poetry was
designated as such by the very fact that it was accompanied by the lyre,
aulos, or some other instrument. However, the importance of music in
choral performance is often lost on a modern audience, for whom the
musical elements are less readily accessible than, say, the content of the
poems.168 Any attempt to recreate choral music is thwarted at the outset by
the fact that no musical notations exist in the manuscript evidence, at least
not from the periods in which choral art was composed and performed. It is
not until the 4th c. B.C.E. that we have any evidence of musical notation of
any kind in any genre of performance, choral or otherwise.169 The absence
of musical notation allows for little more than speculative guesses as to the
nature of choral music in general – scales, modes, melodies, pitch, etc.170 –
and much less regarding the musical character of specific choral composi-
tions.171

Rhythm, Metrics, and Music

Something might be said of the rhythmic nature of choral music insofar as
it likely depended to some extent on the rhythms of the metrical systems in
the poetry. A relationship between metrical and musical rhythm is sug-
gested by what appears naturally to be a positive relationship between the
strict binary system of long and short syllables in Greek meter and the

167
The evidence of this is incontrovertible. Singing and dancing are frequently paired
in Epic poetry. E.g., Il. 1.472; 16.179ff.; 18.490ff.; Od. 1.150ff.; 8.246ff.; Hesiod, Theog.
1ff.; [Scut.] 270ff.; Hymn. Hom. 3.149, 182ff., 513ff. So, too, in lyric and dramatic
poetry. Likewise, much artistic evidence covering a wide span of times and places con-
firms that choral dancing was very often accompanied by musical instruments and/or
singing.
168
West laments the fact that the subject of music is “practically ignored by nearly all
who study” Greek culture. West, Ancient Greek Music, 160–276; cf. Warren D. Anderson,
Music and Musicians in Ancient Greece (Ithaca, N.Y.: Cornell University Press, 1994),
198–209.
169
We are left to speculate as to how music was preserved and transmitted prior to the
th
4 century. Suggestions include: (1) There was musical notation that is simply no longer
extant; (2) Unique melodies accompanied each choral-dance, which were passed down
with their melodies through tradition; or (3) Music was so general as to be applicable to a
wide-range of genres and circumstances. See Anderson, Music and Musicians, 60.
170
For general analysis of these musical elements, see Landels, Music in Ancient
Greece and Rome, 86–217; West, Ancient Greek Music, 129–276.
171
The hazard of speculating on the nature of ancient music is highlighted by Graham
Ley, who remarks, “It is fair to say here that when the experts disagree so radically, the
rest of us have no way forward.” Ley, Theatricality, 144.
144 Chapter 3: The Context for Dramatic Choruses

natural rhythms of music,172 as well as the meager evidence from Hellenistic

and Roman periods that suggests note values (lengths) corresponded with
the lengths of metrical syllables.173
It is not uncommon to explain these rhythms in terms of Western sys-
tems of musical notation. For instance, the standard relationship between
the two syllable lengths in the Greek system (two short syllables are equal
to one long syllable) are thought by some to be easily transposed with
quarter-notes, and half-notes, respectively. The transposition of Western
musical notation mis-characterizes syllabic values in the Greek system,
however, as it is simply not the case that two short syllables always equaled
a long syllable. For example, single short syllables often replaced long ones
in metrical schemes, and vice versa. This often inconsistent relationship
between long and short values is exhibited in some of the few extant
musical scores, where long syllables could be given values equal to three
short syllables or even four short syllables.174 Moreover, it appears that
musical systems were not always based on metrical schemes, but may have
actually interfered with and/or altered the metrical qualities of poems.175
Whatever may be the value of metrical systems for a study of musical
rhythms in Greek choral poetry, it is much more difficult to associate
metrical rhythms with non-rhythmic musical qualities. Some scholars take
the emotional qualities thought to be generated by the meter as likely
indicators of the musical qualities at any given point in the poem.176 So, for
instance, the dochmiac meter may have helped to communicate an excited
or frenzied atmosphere, for which there may have been accompanying
frenzied music. However, such a method is limited by the fact that the
172
“… every Greek poet was his own composer, and no poet would write words in
elaborate metrical schemes merely to annihilate and overlay these by a different musical
rhythm.” Dale, Collected Papers, 161.
173
“In the surviving fragments of poetic texts furnished with musical notation, the
note values are commonly left unspecified, and this is because they were felt to be
sufficiently indicated by the metre of the words. When they are specified, they confirm
the presumption that short syllables are set on short notes and long syllables on long
notes.” West, Ancient Greek Music, 130.
174
See West, Ancient Greek Music, 132, n. 11.
175
Plato commented that the rhythm of the words would determine the musical
rhythms in his ideal republic, and not vice versa, suggesting that in his day musical
rhythms interfered with the metrics of a poem. Plato, Rep. 3.398d, 400a, d. Dionysius of
Halicarnassus spells out this problem: “Prose diction does not violate or change round
the quantities of any word, but keeps the long and short syllables just as they have been
handed down naturally; but music and rhythm alter them, diminishing or increasing them,
so that often they turn into their opposites, for they do not regulate their time-values by
the syllables but the syllables by the time-values.” Dionysius, Comp. 64.
176
Dale, Collected Papers, 257ff.; William C. Scott, Musical Design in Aeschylean
Theater (Hanover, N.H.: Published for Dartmouth College by University Press of New
England, 1984); cf. Ley, Theatricality, 138–143.
 3.5 Formal Features of Choral Poetry 145

emotional states conveyed by metrical systems can only be very roughly

approximated, and in the end say very little about what would have actual-
ly been heard in precise musical terms.

Musical Accompaniment
Much can be said about the musical instruments that were used in choral
performances.177 The aulos and lyre appear to have been the two instru-
ments that most often accompanied choral performances. Like a modern
oboe, the aulos was a cylindrical pipe, with finger-holes on the sides and a
reed mouthpiece.178 It is thought to have produced a buzzing sound in the
lower register, and a piercing sound in the upper register.179 Such sounds
are thought to have served better for accompaniment than solo perform-
ance, and evidence suggests the aulos indeed played a subordinate role in
choral performance.180 The lyre was an instrument in which a number of
strings of unequal length were stretched between two arms made of animal
horns, ivory, or wood.181 Like the aulos (but unlike the related kithara), the
lyre is thought to have been an instrument used primarily to accompany
lyric poetry, including choral performances.
Poets were often identified with particular instruments. Terpander was
associated with the seven-stringed lyre, 182 Alcman with the kithara,183
Simonides with the barbitos,184 etc. Likewise, some of the gods were

177
For information on the various instruments used in antiquity, see Landels, Music in
Ancient Greece and Rome, 24–85; Anderson, Music and Musicians, 171–186; West,
Ancient Greek Music, 48–128.
178
On the aulos, see West, Ancient Greek Music, 81–109; cf. Landels, Music in
Ancient Greece and Rome, 24–46.
179
Although there exist several auloi from antiquity, the sound of the aulos cannot be
recreated with precision due to the fact that the reeds used to force air into the pipe have
not survived. The length of the reed, and its position vis-à-vis the pipe of the aulos, which
produce the varieties of sounds, are not known. Aristophanes likens the sound of the
aulos to the buzzing of wasps (Aristophanes, Ach. 864–866), and “wasping” came to
characterize the technique for accomplishing this effect. Hesychius, s.v. sphēkismos. The
list of adjectives offered by Pollux include: “strong, intense, forceful; sweet-breathed,
pure-toned; wailing, enticing, lamenting …” Pollux 4.72.
180
Athenaeus, for instance, quotes the words of a certain Pratinas, who noted the dis-
pleasure of the theatre-goers when the aulos-players “did not play music to accompany
the choruses, as was traditional, but the choruses instead sang to accompany the pipes.”
Athenaeus 14.617b–e.
181
On the lyre, see West, Ancient Greek Music, 48–70; Landels, Music in Ancient
Greece and Rome, 47–68.
182
He claims to have invented “new hymns” on a “seven-toned phorminx,” which was
a kind of stringed-instrument. Terpander, Fr. 6 Campbell.
183
PMG 38.
184
Plutarch, [Mus.] 29,1141c.
146 Chapter 3: The Context for Dramatic Choruses

associated with one instrument or another, e.g., Apollo with the lyre, and
Dionysos with the aulos. Related to this, or perhaps because of it, paeans
are thought to have been most often accompanied by the lyre, 185 while
dithyrambs are thought to have been accompanied by the aulos. It is un-
clear whether other choral genres were accompanied by one instrument or
the other, or both.186 While choral genres tended to be associated with one
instrument or the other, visual and literary evidence testify that both
instruments might accompany a chorus at the same time.187
The knowledge that choral performance was often, if not always, ac-
companied by musical instruments, is tempered by the fact that the actual
sounds cannot be reproduced. The instruments themselves cannot be accur-
ately reproduced. The positions of the reeds in the case of the aulos, and
the tension of the strings in the case of the stringed instruments such as the
lyre, cannot be recreated. We also know virtually nothing of the melodies
that would have been sung, nor even of the theoretical building blocks of
music in the 5th c. B.C.E. that could be marshaled to venture a guess.188 For
example, we know that various modes (i.e., the scales produced by the
progression of musical notes at various intervals) were associated with
regional ethnic groups (e.g., Dorian, Aeolian, Ionian, etc.). However, the
modes themselves cannot be recreated because the musical intervals that
comprised the scales are not known for certain.189 So, ancient commenta-
tors’ remarks on the nature of Greek modes are of virtually no practical
benefit in reconstructing the actual music.190 As such, a reconstruction of

185
Or a stringed instrument related to the lyre, such as the kithara or barbitos.
Landels, Music in Ancient Greece and Rome, 3.
186
For instance, victory-odes are most often said to have been accompanied by a lyre,
although in five odes the aulos and lyre both seem to have been included. Likewise,
processional choruses appear to have been accompanied by the aulos, while encomia are
evidently accompanied by the barbitos. Lawler, The Dance in Ancient Greece, 100.
187
For a survey of the literary evidence, see J. Herington, Poetry into Drama, 182.
For the visual evidence, see Crowhurst, “Representations,” 236–238.
188
The earliest manuscript preserving musical notation comes from the first half of
the 3 rd c. B.C.E., and cannot be traced back to the 5th century with any degree of certainty.
The Leiden Fragment (Leiden Inv. 510) happens to contain two excerpts from Euripides’
Iphigenia at Aulis (1500–1509, 789–792). The second of the two excerpts comes from a
choral stasimon. For text, translation, and commentary on the musical notations, see
Anderson, Music and Musicians, 210–214.
189
Aristides Quintilianus, sometime in the 2nd or 3 rd c. C.E., suggested scale sequences
for some of the major Greek modes. It simply can’t be known whether the intervals as
Aristides proposes correspond to the actual intervals of 5 th c. B.C.E. Greek music.
190
Several commentators associate particular modes with emotional states. For
instance, Plato notes that the Mixolydian mode is mournful, the Dorian mode engenders
manliness (especially in battle), and the Phrygian mode is associated with peaceful
activities. Plato, Rep. 3.398e10–399a4. Aristotle agreed with Plato’s characterization of
the Dorian mode as being “especially manly.” Moreover, he associated the Phrygian
 3.6 Functions of Choruses and Choral Poetry 147

the nature of melody and modality in Greek choral performance remains

frustratingly out of reach.

3.6 Functions of Choruses and Choral Poetry

Scholars agree on the pervasiveness of choral poetry in these periods, but

opinions as to the function of choruses vary. Choral poetry and perform-
ances functioned on different levels. On one hand, choral poetry was com-
posed and performed at various personal, civic, and religious events, and
the functions of choral performances can be considered in terms of their
performative contexts. For example, the victory-ode was performed as part
of the formal celebration of the victor of an athletic contest, and functioned
at one level to honor his accomplishments. By contrast, the paean, both in
the rudimentary form it took in Epic poetry and in the more developed
forms as exhibited by Pindar and others, appears to have functioned pri-
marily as propitiation to a god in light of some event that had transpired, or
was about to transpire. Functions of this sort have already been discussed
as they relate to particular choral dances, yet still other functions of the
chorus can be discerned.

3.6.1 Cultic Function(s)

The cultic/religious contexts for many of the choral performances described
thus far have been alluded to, and at this point the extent to which these
contexts are brought to bear on the question of the functions of choruses
will be considered. Several types of choral poetry exhibit a conspicuous
and explicit cultic orientation. The dithyramb, for example, was performed
in the context of the celebration of a deity – most often Dionysos – and its
content often dealt explicitly with some aspect of Dionysos and his cult.
The paean appears to have been, both in its earliest improvisational forms
and in more developed forms, essentially a formalized address to propitiate
a god, most often Apollo. Various hymns, in both the general and technical
sense of the term, are addressed to deities and were likely to have been

mode with the aulos and Dionysian celebration. Aristotle, Pol. 8.1342b. Related to this,
genres of lyric poetry were associated with particular modes. E.g., the dithyramb, on
account of its Dionysian associations, was associated with the Phrygian mode. Naturally,
then, the associations of particular modes with the musical elements of Greek comedy
and tragedy were made. Aristoxenus, a pupil of Aristotle, records that the (mournful)
Mixolydian and the (manly) Dorian modes were associated with tragedy. See Pickard-
Cambridge, Festivals, 262. For discussions of Greek modes, see Ley, Theatricality, 144–
150; cf. Anderson, Music and Musicians, 151–158; Csapo and Slater, The Context of
Ancient Drama, 344–345.
148 Chapter 3: The Context for Dramatic Choruses

performed in the cultic festivities surrounding the deity. Other choral forms,
such as wedding songs, funeral dirges, and victory-songs, may not appear
at first glance as conspicuously cultic, but do when they are considered in
light of their performance contexts and poetic content. That is, the content
of most choral poetry, regardless of genre, includes invocations to deities,
narratives of the gods’ attributes and deeds, and stories of human events
told in light of their relation to the realm of gods and heroes. Moreover,
most choral performances had a cultic dimension insofar as they took place
at or near a cultic shrine. So, for example, victory-odes performed during
athletic games were cultic insofar as the games took place under the
auspices of a particular god, and in or near the precinct of a god. Likewise,
choral performances at weddings and funerals were cultic insofar as the
weddings and funerals themselves were cultic events, imbued with cultic
rites and objects, and tied up with notions of cultic space and time. Put
slightly differently, it could be said that in ancient Greece there were no
secular events, if by secular one means the absence of myths of the deities,
sacred time and space, and the deities themselves. In this sense, choral
performances were most often both explicitly religious in terms of their
content, and religious by implication of the fact that the contexts in which
they were performed were intrinsically religious.
Steven Lonsdale has considered the cultic functions of choral perform-
ance in light of the pervasive idea in antiquity that singing and dancing
constituted one of the characteristic activities of the gods.191 Citing a bevy
of Archaic and Classical sources that reflect the idea that gods and semi-
divine beings were constantly engaged in the act of singing and dancing,192
Lonsdale suggests that human choral dances constituted ritual emulations
of what was perceived to be typical divine activity,193 and that to the extent
that choral participants emulated divine activity, they believed that they
were participating in divine activity. 194 This is suggested by Plato, who

191
Steven H. Lonsdale, “Homeric Hymn to Apollo: Prototype and Paradigm of Choral
Performance,” Arion 3 (Fall 1994/Winter1995): 25–40.
192
Two of the most descriptive examples of divine choreia include the Hymn to
Pythian Apollo, and the introduction to Hesiod’s Theogony. See Lonsdale, “Homeric
Hymn to Apollo,” 39, n. 5.
193
Lonsdale considers two descriptions of choral activity in the Homeric Hymn to
Apollo to have been “the prototypes of all choral performance.” Aside from the far-
reaching extent of this claim, elements of the hymn can certainly be viewed as a reflec-
tion of human choral performance. E.g., Artemis leads a chorus of gods, positioned in a
circular formation, with participants linked with hands at the wrist singing and dancing to
musical accompaniment, all the while being viewed by a captive audience. Lonsdale,
“Homeric Hymn to Apollo,” 28–32.
194
That this activity was thought to be somehow divine is suggested by the fact that
epithets such as “immortal” and “divine” were accorded to choral performers, and to the
performance space in which they performed. E.g., Od. 4.17; 8.87; Hymn. Hom. 3.150–151.
 3.6 Functions of Choruses and Choral Poetry 149

implied that choral activity was qualitatively different than ordinary human
behavior, and who claimed that choristers were in fact participating with
Apollo and the Muses as “fellow chorus members.”195 Ritual choral sing-
ing and dancing entailed a reciprocal cultic function as well, according to
Lonsdale, as the gods were dependent on the cultic acts, which included
choral dancing, for their very being.

3.6.2 Mythological Function(s)

The mythic tradition constituted the shared repository of accounts of the
gods, their interactions with one another and with mortals, and the patterns
that can be traced across these accounts. Through these myths were ex-
plained the origins of nations and peoples, the nature of political, social,
and personal relationships, as the root causes of war, as well as the causes
and effects of jealousy, sorrow, joy, etc. Myth was embedded in nearly
every facet of ancient life, expressed in poetry and literature, enacted in
public processionals, festivals, depicted on murals, frescoes, statues, temple
impediments, and even the bottoms of drinking glasses. In these ways, the
mythic tradition was not only shared, but “imaginatively lived in by vir-
tually every member of society.”196
Given the extent to which mythic reflections permeated ancient life, it
comes as no surprise that reflections on the mythic tradition should be so
prominent in choral poetry. Some of the ways in which the mythical world
was brought to the fore through choral performance has been broached in
the discussion of specific choral genres. For example, paeans consistently
invoked a deity whose presence, guidance, and/or benefaction was sought
in relation to some event. Likewise, dithyrambs were oriented thematically
around the attributes and deeds of Dionysos, Apollo, and/or Artemis, while
an entire genre of hymnic choral poetry was classified on the basis of the
fact that praise of a deity constituted its primary focus. In these ways
choral poetry was firmly grounded in the mythical world, whose repertoire
of stories of the gods and heroes served either as a basis for human praise,
or to frame earthly events.
The imaginative world of myth often served to impart meaning upon
specific events for which the poem was performed by framing them in
mythic and symbolic terms. For instance, singing a paean to invoke the
presence and protection of a god prior to battle puts the battle itself in a
mythic perspective, signaling that the battle consists not only of armies of
men on an earthly battlefield, but of the presence and participation of god(s).
Likewise, linking an individual or event to a corresponding mythical per-

195
Plato, Leg. 2.665a.
196
J. Herington, Poetry into Drama, 64.
150 Chapter 3: The Context for Dramatic Choruses

sonage or event was one way to frame the individual and/or event in terms
of a larger mythical narrative. A good example of this strategy appears in
Pindar’s first Pythian ode, in which Hieron the tyrant of Syracuse is cel-
ebrated for his nearly simultaneous conquests over the Persians, Cartha-
ginians, and Etruscans. In this ode, the conquered enemies of Hieron are
equated with Typhoon, who rebelled against Zeus and threatened the cos-
mic order of things, and was subsequently banished under Mount Aetna.
Likewise, Hieron is implicitly likened to Zeus himself as the victor who
promotes and protects the right order of things. Thus, the temporal events
of the tyrant, and all those who participate in them, are linked through the
victory-ode to the order of things as they are reflected in these mythical
accounts.197 In each of these ways, choral performances had the capacity to
imbue a transitory event with meaning and significance that transcended
the temporality of the event itself, by explaining it in terms of the perma-
nent and unchanging world of the divine.

3.6.3 Pedagogical Function(s)

Choral poetry also conferred pedagogical benefits upon participants and
observers. Such a notion is supported first of all by commentators in
antiquity. For example, Aristophanes acknowledged the benefit of choreia
by means of a discussion between the Just and Unjust Argument about
what constituted archeia paideia. Just as the Just Argument is recounting
educational practices in the glory days of Athens, the Unjust Argument
interrupts to argue that this is stuff of “hoary rituals and out-of-date
dithyrambic poets” (Aristophanes, Nub. 983–984). It is precisely these
things, responds the Just Argument, that constituted proper education, as
evidenced by the fact that it was these things that reared the men who
fought at Marathon (Aristophanes, Nub. 986), and precisely what is lacking
in contemporary Athens, where “the present youth cannot even do a proper
naked pyrrhic dance at the Panathanaea” (Aristophanes, Nub. 986–989).
Aristophanes makes a similar claim in Frogs, where he characterizes the
“noble and virtuous citizens” to have been those trained in the choruses
(Aristophanes, Ran. 728–729).
Plato also offered explicit reflections on the educational benefits of
choreia. In Laws, he suggests that the ordered rhythms and melodies of

197
“This analogy links the Greek who participated directly or indirectly in these
battles (those who died, those who survived, and the families who mourned or rejoiced)
with each other and with the gods who maintain order in the universe, in one great act of
harmonious affirmation …” Later, Bacon goes on to say that it is “in the act of celebra-
tion, shared by performers and audience, that the evanescent moment of victory achieves
some kind of permanence and meaning.” Bacon, “Chorus in Greek Life and Drama,” 16,
18.
 3.6 Functions of Choruses and Choral Poetry 151

dances provided a means by which citizens could distinguish “order” from

“disorder,” a capacity which distinguishes humans from other creatures
who have no such perception (Plato, Leg. 2.653e). More specifically, Plato
goes on to say that in a chorus citizens model the process of distinguishing
the “beautiful” from the “ugly,” and the “good” from the “bad,” by imitating
states of character. That is, through mimesis, citizens learned to take
pleasure in and praise noble forms, and to reject detestable forms. Through
vocal mimesis, the soul is nourished; through choreographic mimesis, the
body is trained.198 For Plato, the sufficiently educated man has been trained
in the choruses, while the uneducated man has not.199
Subsequent to Plato’s analysis, many have considered how choral activity
may have conferred specific educational benefits through mimesis. Aris-
totle recognized that all poetic forms (he singles out dithyrambic poetry
alongside epic, tragic, and comic poetry) are essentially mimetic entities
that offer “representations of life.” He argued that poets employ particular
combinations of rhythms, words, and harmonies to represent different
aspects or qualities of life, just as visual artists may use color and form to
represent the likeness of an object. He singles out dancing as a represen-
tation of “character, experiences, and actions” (Aristotle, Poet. 1447a).
Others in antiquity recognized the possibility for choral performance to
engender virtuous behavior through mimesis.200 Specifically, a chorus may
imitate technical skills that were employed in the military or in athletics.
For instance, certain choral dances were explicitly related to military
maneuvers,201 such as the pyrrhic dance, which was performed annually at
the Panathenaea by cohorts of males of various ages, and consisted of chor-
eographic movement that simulated actions on the battlefield.202 Whether
or not such a dance was intended to instruct males in the art of war, it is
easy to imagine that a symbiotic relationship existed between enacting
battle-scenes in the chorus-dance and performance on the battlefield. To
this effect, a saying attributed to Socrates claimed that the noblest warriors
were those who honored the gods most beautifully in the chorus.203
198
Plato, Leg. 2.669–673.
199
Plato, Leg. 2.654a–b; cf. Plato, Rep. 10.
200
Athenaeus recognized that choral dancing both reflected and induced virtuous be-
havior, when recalling Damon, a contemporary of Plato, who claimed that “free, beauti-
ful souls produce songs and dances that resemble them in that respect, and vice versa.” In
his opinion, choral movement reflected the “nobility and manliness” associated with the
words of the poem(s). Athenaeus 14.628c–e.
201
“For the type of dancing in which the choruses engaged in those days was graceful
and impressive, and imitated, as it were, the movements of men wearing armor.”
Athenaeus 14.628e.
202
Plato, Leg. 7.815a.
203
Athenaeus 14.628e–f. The notion that choruses conferred educational benefits on
participants remained in the cultural consciousness long after the golden age of choral
152 Chapter 3: The Context for Dramatic Choruses

3.6.4 Social Function(s)

Underlying these notions that choral poetry inculcated participants (and
observers) in the social, political, and religious values of the community
through mimesis seems to be the idea that the content of choral poetry re-
flected and embodied these values. Insofar as the content of non-dramatic
choral poetry reflected the values of a particular community, the chorus
could be thought to represent the “voice” of the community, in which
proper civic, political, and religious identities were modeled.204 In this
vein, Calame has argued that choral dances offered a means by which
societal values were transmitted to participants. That is, the myths, values,
cultic rituals, community knowledge, etc., represented in the choral poetry
and embodied in the choral dance, were assimilated by the participants
through mimesis.205 So, for instance, Calame understands choruses of
young women in the Archaic period led by Sappho et al., to be “schools of
femininity destined to make the young pupils into accomplished women,
through … lessons in comportment and elegance.”206 According to Calame,
different sorts of choruses had similar pedagogical functions, including
choruses in Sparta that prepared boys for military service,207 choruses of
women of marriageable age that prepared them for their spousal roles,208
and choruses of ephebes that prepared them for participation in pederastic
relationships.209
Very closely related to the idea that choral participation conferred peda-
gogical benefits is the notion that choruses could perform critical initiatory

performance had ended. Polybius celebrated the Arcadians for the fact that their children
from the earliest age were taught “to sing hymns and paeans,” which led to their distinct-
ive “character, physical formation, and complexion” (Polybius 4.20ff.). Thus, it may be
said generally that choruses were thought to educate participants in multiple skills re-
quired of a citizen. Mullen, Choreia, 70.
204
In this way, Stehle characterizes non-dramatic choral poetry as “community poetry,”
through which the chorus speaks “for and to the audience … as both reflection of and
model for the communal opinion.” Eva Stehle, Performance and Gender in Ancient
Greece: Nondramatic Poetry in Its Setting (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1997),
18ff.
205
“By reciting the poems composed by their masters the poets, the chorus-members
learn and internalize a series of myths and rules of behavior represented by the material
taught – all the more since Archaic choral poetry has to be understood as a performative
art, as a set of poems representing cult acts in precise ritual contexts.” Calame, Choruses,
231.
206
“… we may agree with numerous interpreters of this poetry that most descriptions
of the poet and her advice bear on the themes of feminine grace and beauty.” For analysis
of these themes in Sapphic poetry, see Calame, Choruses, 231–233.
207
Calame, Choruses, 233–238.
208
Calame, Choruses, 238–244.
209
Calame, Choruses, 244–249.
 3.6 Functions of Choruses and Choral Poetry 153

functions for adolescents. Considered within the framework of a structur-

alist approach to initiation rituals in the tradition of Van Gennep, Levi-
Strauss, Turner, Bourdieu, etc., Calame argues that choruses of young girls,
such as those reflected in the fragments of partheneia by Alcman, can be
identified as rites de passage,210 whereby the social, civic, and religious
identity of a community was communicated, and through which participants
attained full-fledged membership in the adult community.211

210
Such a ritual is defined by three distinct elements: (1) Separation from the “old”
state of being; (2) A marginal phase in-between old and new; and (3) Admission to new
status, and reintegration into the community. “It is thus a simple sequence of leaving an
old order and joining a new, with a neutral period in between.” Calame, Choruses, 12.
211
“This particular type of initiation (rite de passage) aims to confer on the individ-
ual, by a more or less lengthy series of rites, full-fledged membership in the community
… It integrates … adolescents … male and female, into the systems and institutions and
norms that govern the political, social, cultural, and religious life of the adult commun-
ity.” Calame, Choruses, 11. Rutherford makes a very similar argument about paeans, in
terms of their function as initiation rituals for young men. In this way, the paean offers a
“precise analogy to the initiatory function of the partheneion.” Rutherford, Pindar’s
Paeans, 115. Rutherford’s analysis depends on his premise that paeans were performed
exclusively by young men, a premise for which there is very little positive evidence, and
which has been challenged. See Ley, Theatricality, 130–131.
 Chapter 4

The Dramatic Context of Tragic Choruses: Tragedy

4.1 Origins of Tragedy

Having considered some of the general trajectories in the study of ancient

choral poetry, a partial framework now exists for evaluating in detail the
forms and functions of choruses as they appear in ancient tragedy. As we
shall see, many of the formal properties of tragic choruses can be gauged
in terms of the trajectories of choral poetry broadly construed, including
the composition and size of choruses, metrical and dialectical tendencies of
choral lyrics, and choreographic and musical elements. In order to appreci-
ate fully, however, the particular forms as well as the functional dynamics
of choruses in ancient tragedy, it is necessary to consider the constitutive
elements of the tragedies in which they appear. Thus, in this chapter I offer
a survey of tragedy in the ancient Mediterranean world, focusing on topics
that are particularly germane to the study of tragic choruses, including:
(1) the origins of Greek tragedy; (2) tragedy in the 5th century, and devel-
opments in the 4th century and Hellenistic period; (3) the origins of drama
in Rome; (4) Roman tragedy; (5) performance contexts in the Classical,
Hellenistic, and Roman periods; and (6) the theatre in the Classical, Hel-
lenistic, and Roman periods.
It was noted in the previous chapter that the majority of Classical schol-
ars believe that the origins of tragedy can be traced, however vaguely, to
the moment in the history of choral performance when the chorus-leader
assumed a role vis-à-vis the rest of the chorus. This view of the origins of
tragedy derives ultimately from chapter 12 of Aristotle’s Poetics, in which
he famously claims that:
… it [tragedy] originated in improvisation – both tragedy itself and comedy. The one [the
former] came from the leaders the dithyramb and the other from those of the phallic
songs which still survive as institutions in many cities. Tragedy then gradually evolved as
men developed each element that came to light and after going through many changes, it
stopped when it had found its own natural form. Thus it was Aeschylus who first raised
the number of the actors from one to two. He also curtailed the chorus and gave the
dialogue the leading part. (Aristotle, Poet. 1449a)

From this it is widely believed that the improvised dialogic exchanges that
took place between the chorus and its leader gradually developed into com-
 4.1 Origins of Tragedy 155

plex interplays between chorus and non-choral actor such that exist in 5th-
century drama.1
The notion that Classical tragedy developed organically from choral po-
etry can be corroborated by the evidence of the tragic choruses themselves.
In the earliest evidence of tragedy, the plays of Aeschylus, the chorus
played a prominent role. Considered over and against the evidence of later
Classical drama and Roman tragedy in which the chorus’ role is increas-
ingly diminished, the centrality of the chorus in the plays of Aeschylus can
be seen as an early stage in the development of the tragic chorus from its
entirely choral origins.
Thus, while there is widespread agreement as to the choral origins of
Classical tragedy, the question remains whether tragedy can be traced in
particular to the dithyramb and/or the satyr-play. The dithyrambic connec-
tion is generally accepted given the formal similarities between Classical
Greek tragic choruses and the extant dithyrambic choruses from the 5th cen-
tury, as well as the Dionysian performance contexts for each. It is much more
difficult, however, to reconcile Aristotle’s claim that tragedy also derived
from the satyr-play. To begin, satyr-plays are attested only after the inven-
tion of tragedy. 2 Moreover, there is a conspicuous lack of formal and func-
tional similarities between tragedies and satyr-plays.3 Such evidence sug-
gests the possibility that Aristotle was simply wrong on this point.4

1
Various theories have been advanced, each attempting to trace how exactly impro-
vised dialogic exchanges amongst the chorus and its leader developed into exchanges
between chorus and actor(s) in Classical tragedy. Kranz, for example, argued that insofar
as the wholly lyric interactions between the chorus and non-choral actors represent the
oldest extant form in tragedy, they must have developed from the earlier practice of lyric
exchanges between chorus and chorus-leader. Others have argued that the chorus-leader
would have originally responded to the chorus in spoken (i.e., iambic) verse, and that
wholly lyric exchanges between the chorus and actor(s) in Classical tragedy were second-
ary developments to this. Walther Kranz, Stasimon: Untersuchungen zu Form und Gehalt
der griechischen Tragödie (Berlin: Weidmannsche Buchhandlung, 1933), 20ff.; Amy M.
Dale, “The Chorus in the Action of Greek Tragedy,” in Classical Drama and Its Influence
(ed. Michael J. Anderson; London: Methuen, 1965), 15; Erich Bethe, “Die griechische
Tragödie und die Musik,” NJahrb 19 (1907): 81–95.
2
The first physical evidence for satyr-plays comes in the form of vase-paintings from
the early 5 th c. B.C.E. Pickard-Cambridge, Dithyramb, 34, 66–67.
3
“All of the evidence from the sixth century on the activities of satyrs suggests revelry
and buffoonery … The satyr play in the fifth century followed that bias. Tragedy, however,
as represented by the plays of Aeschylus, is a highly developed, complex, and totally
serious dramatic form, displaying only the slightest links with Dionysos and completely
ignoring his reveling companions.” J. Michael Walton, Greek Theatre Practice (London:
Methuen, 1980), 38.
4
“… above all, it is extraordinary to suppose that the noble seriousness of tragedy can
have grown so rapidly, or even at all, out of the ribald satyric drama …” Pickard-Cam-
bridge, Dithyramb, 92–93.
156 Chapter 4: The Dramatic Context of Tragic Choruses: Tragedy

Others have tried to validate the particulars of Aristotle’s claim by

locating a common denominator between the satyr-play and the dithyramb,
e.g., suggesting that the dithyramb was originally performed by satyrs, or
that at some early stage the satyr-play was essentially undifferentiated from
the dithyramb.5 The most common solution is to suppose that when Aris-
totle said that tragedy originated from both the dithyramb and satyr-play,
he really meant that it originated in the Dionysian cult.6 Tradition certainly
linked the dithyramb with the Dionysian cult, and many dithyrambs admit
associations with Dionysos. Likewise, satyr-plays were performed at the
Dionysian festivals, and satyrs were long associated with Dionysos.7
Nothing supports the connection between tragedy, dithyramb, and satyr-
play more than the fact that each is known to have been performed at Dio-
nysian festivals in and around Athens during the Classical period.8
However, there are numerous problems with the notion that the dithy-
ramb, satyr-play, and tragedy share a common denominator with respect to
a Dionysian orientation outside of the fact that they were often performed
at Dionysian festivals. To begin, dithyrambs were not associated exclu-
sively with Dionysos either in terms of content9 or performance context.10
The same can be said about satyrs. 11 Further, it is not at all clear that tra-
gedies themselves exhibit a Dionysian orientation.12 In fact, the tension
created by the fact that tragedy was claimed to have been rooted in Dio-
nysian tradition, and yet express so little that is particularly or explicitly

5
Richard Seaford, Reciprocity and Ritual (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1994),
267–269; Pickard-Cambridge, Dithyramb, 12, 20, 96–98.
6
E.g., Richard Janko, Aristotle: Poetics (Indianapolis: Hackett, 1987), 79.
7
For the primary evidence, see Csapo and Slater, Context of Ancient Drama, 89–95.
8
The suggestion that tragedy developed from aspects of the Dionysian cult has
prompted a number of attempts to demonstrate various ways in which Dionysian cultic
elements manifest themselves in tragedy, including storylines with particularly Dionysian
themes, explicit references to Dionysos, descriptions of Dionysian cultic activity, and
demonstrations that the dramatic chorus embodies Dionysian ritual.
9
Even a cursory glance at the fragments of Pindar and the dithyrambs of Bacchylides
reveal that they are not limited to Dionysian themes. The paucity of evidence simply
doesn’t allow for far-reaching statements one way or another, but Bacchylides’ dithyrambs
themselves argue against an exclusively Dionysian orientation. Scott Scullion, “‘Nothing
to Do with Dionysus,’” CQ 52 (2002): 127.
10
Dithyrambs were performed early on at non-Dionysian festivals, including the
Thargelia, Lesser Panathenaia, Prometheia, Hephaisteia, the festival in honor of Apollo at
Delphi, and a festival for Apollo and Artemis at Cyrene.
11
Scullion, “‘Nothing to Do with Dionysus,’” 117.
12
Dionysos appears in each of the Athenian tragedies relatively infrequently in com-
parison with Zeus, Apollo, and Athena. Moreover, the billygoat was not sacrificed exclu-
sively for Dionysos; rather, it was one of the most common sacrifices offered in the
Greek world.
 4.1 Origins of Tragedy 157

Dionysian, gave rise to the famous ancient expression that tragedy had
“nothing to do with Dionysos.”13
Thus, on the basis of Aristotle’s claim and the evidence of the tragedies
themselves, it seems reasonable that tragedy ultimately derived from Greek
choral poetry, while the precise mechanisms by which this occurred remain
less clear, as do the particular connections – Dionysian or otherwise –
between Classical tragedy, the dithyramb, and satyr-play.
Finally, it seems unlikely that all of the elements of Classical tragedy as
they appear in the 5th century can be explained exclusively in terms of a
derivation from non-dramatic choral performance. Several of the essential
features of tragedy (Messenger speeches, rhesis speeches, etc.) likely de-
rived from, and/or were influenced by, different contexts, including Epic
poetry, 14 the Hero-cult,15 rituals tied to the changing of the seasons,16 and/
or a particularly Greek fascination for wrestling with the paradoxes of the
human condition.17

13
Plutarch, Quaest. Conv. 1.612e; 4.671e; Cicero, Att. 16.13a1; cf. Suda, s.v. Nothing
to Do with Dionysus: “When Epigenes the Sikyonian made a tragedy in honor of
Dionysos, they made this comment; hence the proverb. A better explanation: Originally
when writing in honor of Dionysos they competed with pieces which were called satiric.
Later they changed to the writing of tragedy and gradually turned to plots and stories in
which they had no thought for Dionysos. Hence this comment. Chamaeleon writes simi-
larly in his book on Thespis.” Cf. Zenobius 5.40: “When, the choruses being accustomed
from the beginning to sing the dithyramb to Dionysos, later poets abandoned this custom
and began to write ‘Ajaxes’ and ‘Centaurs.’ Therefore the spectators said in joke,
‘Nothing to do with Dionysos.’ For this reason they decided later to introduce satyr-plays
as a prelude, in order that they might not seem to be forgetting the god.”
14
Gerald Else, The Origin and Early Form of Greek Tragedy (Cambridge, Mass.: Har-
vard University Press, 1965); J. Herington, Poetry into Drama; Rush Rehm, Greek Tragic
Theatre (London: Routledge, 1992), 8–11; Constantine A. Trypanis, The Homeric Epics
(Warminster: Aris & Phillips, 1977), 59–64, 82–92; Samuel E. Bassett, The Poetry of
Homer (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1938), 57–80.
15
William Ridgeway, The Dramas and Dramatic Dances of Non-European Races
(Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1915).
16
Gilbert Murray, Aeschylus: The Creator of Tragedy (Oxford: Clarendon Press,
1968).
17
Friedrich Nietzsche, The Birth of Tragedy (trans. Douglas Smith; Oxford: Oxford
University Press, 2008).
158 Chapter 4: The Dramatic Context of Tragic Choruses: Tragedy

4.2 Athenian Tragedy in the Fifth Century

4.2.1 The Poets
The origins of tragedy in Athens were linked with the figure Thespis, who
is constantly cited as the founder of tragedy in Athens.18 Though most of the
details of his life and poetry remain obscure, he was said to have won the
first dramatic competition at the Great Dionysia in 534 B.C.E.19 Undoubted-
ly, the high point of Classical Greek tragic poetry comes not long after his
inaugural victory, during the last three-quarters of the 5th c. B.C.E. and most
closely associated with three poets, Aeschylus (525–456), Sophocles (496–
406), and Euripides (480–406). The fact that their works are the only tra-
gedies to survive from this period signals their pre-eminence, which seems
to have had less to do with the quantity of work they produced, though it was
substantial, than with the quality of their poetry as judged by later poets.20
Aeschylus’ first surviving play, Persians, was originally performed in
Athens in 472 B.C.E., and the five remaining extant plays of Aeschylus, out
of the 80 or 90 plays thought to have been written by him, were probably
composed sometime before 458 B.C.E. Sophocles was at least as prolific as
his older contemporary. Approximately 125 plays are ascribed to him, of
which seven are extant. In terms of the number of victories at the Great
Dionysia, Sophocles was much more successful than his predecessor.21 The
youngest of the three Classical tragedians, Euripides, wrote over 90 plays,
but won the prize at the Dionysia only a handful of times. His apparent
unpopularity in his own time is tempered by the fact that his popularity
seems to have increased greatly in later generations.22
18
E.g., Themistius, Orat. 26.316d: “Did solemn tragedy with all its trappings and
chorus and actors come before the audience at a single moment? Do we not believe Aris-
totle that first the chorus came in and sang to the gods, then Thespis invented prologue
and speech …?” Diogenes Laertius, Lives 3.56: “As of old in tragedy formerly the chorus
by itself performed the whole drama and later Thespis invented a single actor to give the
chorus a rest …” For a compilation of the primary sources, see Csapo and Slater, Context
of Ancient Drama, 89–102.
19
This evidence is written on the Parian Marble, the date for which is uncertain.
20
Their superiority is made explicit by a number of ancient commentators, and evi-
denced by the fact that their statues were erected outside the Lyrcurgean theatre in Athens.
21
Evidence suggests that Sophocles won between 18 and 24 prizes, while Aeschylus
won 13 times.
22
This is attested by the fact that: (1) many more of his plays survive (nineteen) than
those of his contemporaries; (2) he is the most frequently quoted, and parodied, tragic
poet in history; (3) scenes from Euripidean drama are more often depicted in 4th-century
art than scenes of Aeschylus or Sophocles; (4) his plays were more often reproduced in
the 4 th century and beyond; and (5) he is very often praised by later commentators. See
Georgia Xanthakis-Karamanos, Studies in Fourth-Century Tragedy (ΑΘΗΝΑΙ: ΑΚΑ∆Η-
ΜΙΑ ΑΘΗΝΩΝ, 1980), 32–33; Arthur D. Trendall and Thomas B. L. Webster, Illustra-
tions of Greek Drama (London: Phaidon, 1971), 1ff.
 4.2 Athenian Tragedy in the Fifth Century 159

4.2.2 The Quasi-Historical, Quasi-Mythical Setting of Tragedy

While only a small fraction of tragic material produced during the 5th cen-
tury has survived, extant texts allow for something to be said of the tragic
form. Surviving Classical tragedies are most often situated in a quasi-
historical, quasi-legendary setting, such as the period of the Trojan War, or
the remote past of Argos, Thebes, and Athens.23 Tragic plots drew from a
fairly limited collection of stories of gods and heroes, well-known stories
that had been told and re-told for centuries in the Epic cycles that survive
under the names of Homer and Hesiod, in lyric poetry of the sort that was
discussed in the previous chapter, and in other poetic forms. Because of
this, tragic poets were limited to a certain extent by the mythic traditions
available to them, as well as the themes that are conveyed in these tradi-
tions. As a result, tragic audiences would have already known, to a certain
extent at least, the casts of characters and plot trajectories for a given
tragedy. 24 Yet, it was hardly the case that plots were simply regurgitated.
On the contrary, significant details of the plot, and the plot-structure itself,
varied from tragic poet to poet. In this way, tragic poets were “continuous-
ly recasting tales already known to the audience” in such a way that the
audiences’ experiences of the plots were constantly reshaped.25
By recasting stories of their common past, Athenian tragic poets were
able to say something specific about the social and political circumstances
of 5th century Athens.26 By couching contemporary social and political
concerns (e.g., the aftermath of the destruction of Athens by the Persians in
480, subsequent Athenian victory at the Battle of Salamis, plagues, the rise
of the Delian league, the Peloponnesian War, and notable political figures
such as Pericles) in the mythic re-tellings of the narratives of an heroic
past, the social and political commentaries of Classical tragedies could be
expressed just beneath the surface of the narrative.27
23
An exception is Aeschylus’ “historical” tragedy Persians, which takes place less
than a decade before it was performed, and details the events surrounding the defeat of
Athens by the Persians.
24
The 4 th-century comic poet Antiphanes claims that: “… tragedy is a blessed art in
every way, since its plots are well known to the audience before anyone begins to speak.
A poet need only remind. I have just to say, ‘Oedipus,’ and they know all the rest: father,
Laius; mother, Jocasta; their sons and daughters; what he will suffer; what he has done.”
Antiphanes, Fr. 191 Kassel/Austin.
25
See Peter Burian, “Myth into Mythos: The Shaping of Tragic Plot,” in Greek Drama
(ed. Harold Bloom; Philadelphia: Chelsea House, 2004), 321–354.
26
“Although the heroic figures seem prehistoric, the treatment, through them, of con-
temporary issues is of immediate concern.” Walton, Greek Theatre Practice, 6.
27
See David M. Carter, Politics of Greek Tragedy (Bristol: Phoenix Press, 2004);
Michael X. Zelenak, Gender and Politics in Greek Tragedy (New York: Peter Lang,
1998); Christian Meier, Die politische Kunst der griechischen Tragödie (München: Beck,
1988); John K. Davies, Democracy and Classical Greece (London: Fontana, 1978).
160 Chapter 4: The Dramatic Context of Tragic Choruses: Tragedy

4.2.3 Structural Features

Classical tragedy exhibited fairly consistent structural features. A tragedy
typically began with an introductory speech, or prologue, of one or more of
the protagonists. This was followed by the parodos, or entry of the chorus
through the side passageway into the orchestra. The prologue and the par-
odos served as an introduction of the main characters to the audience, and
as a means of conveying background information for the plot. The intro-
duction of the chorus and characters was followed by a number of episodes
or acts, which consisted of a number of longer sections of monologue and/
or dialogue between a character and the chorus, or between non-choral
characters. Episodes were consistently separated by stasima, which were
lyric odes sung by the chorus, or lyric dialogues between the chorus and
one or more characters. The exodos, which consisted of the exit of the
chorus from the stage, most often marked the end of the play.
Additional elements common to many, but not all, Classical tragedies
included: (1) Messenger speeches in which an otherwise unimportant char-
acter conveys information about dramatic off-stage events, such as a murder,
battle, or rape;28 and (2) emotionally charged lyric exchanges between char-
acters and the chorus on the subject of some extraordinary dramatic event.
Structural dynamics in Classical tragedy were not only driven by the
juxtaposition of these different formal features, but by the interaction of the
distinctive features within each, including: (1) parts performed by actors
and those performed by the chorus; (2) metrical variations between differ-
ent parts, e.g., lyric and non-lyric (spoken) lines; and (3) monologues and
dialogues, etc. The use and functions of these formal elements were not

28
It was a convention in Greek tragedy that particularly violent events (battles, mur-
ders, etc.) did not transpire before the eyes of the audience, but rather took place off-stage
and out of view, a convention which likely arose out of both practical considerations,
e.g., the difficulty in depicting large-scale battles, and a sense of decorum that such
scenes ought not to be represented. At any rate, the details of such events were typically
conveyed to the audience by means of a stock messenger character. The Messenger’s
speech was a common element in Greek tragedy in the Classical period, and adhered to
various formal and stylistic conventions. For example, the messenger was consistently
portrayed as an outsider, not otherwise connected to the protagonists, and defined in
vague terms according to his or her vocation (messenger, servant, shepherd, etc.). The
speech itself was typically preceded by a dialogue, and conveyed exclusively with past-
tense verbs. James Barrett, Staged Narrative: Poetics and the Messenger in Greek Tra-
gedy (Berkeley: University of California Press, 2002); Irene J. F. de Jong, Narrative in
Drama: The Art of the Euripidean Messenger Speech (Leiden: Brill, 1997); C. W. Mar-
shall, “How to Write a Messenger Speech,” in Greek Drama III: Essays in Honour of
Kevin Lee (ed. John Davidson, Frances Muecke, and Peter Wilson; London: Institute of
Classical Studies, 2006), 203–221; Jan M. Bremer, “Why Messenger-Speeches?,” in
Miscellanea Tragica in Honorem J. C. Kamerbeek (ed. S. L. Radt, J. M. Bremer, and
C. J. Ruijgh; Amsterdam: Hakkert, 1976), 29–48.
 4.3 Greek Tragedy in the Fourth Century, and into the Hellenistic Period 161

static in the Classical period, and in fact a great deal of change can be
observed from Aeschylus to Euripides.
Aristotle claimed that tragedy prior to Aeschylus consisted of just two
characters: one actor and a chorus. He goes on to say that Aeschylus
increased the number of actors from one to two, and that Sophocles further
increased the number of actors from two to three.29 Regardless of the
accuracy of Aristotle’s claim that Aeschylus and Sophocles were solely
responsible for these additions, the extant plays do reflect a change in the
number and functions of actors through the Classical period.
Aeschylus’ plays include exchanges between two non-choral characters,
confirming that at least in his own time, two actors were required to produce
a tragedy. However, in his earlier plays, no more than two actors seem to
have been required. By contrast, scenes in the later plays of Aeschylus, and
the plays of Sophocles and Euripides, exhibit three non-choral characters,
lending to the notion that a third actor had been added, whether or not it was
Aeschylus or Sophocles who first did so.30 Sophocles and Euripides appear
to have increased the frequency with which three characters – and thus, three
actors – appear simultaneously in a scene. The increase in the appearance
of multiple actors in any given scene coincides with a decrease in the appear-
ances of, and importance of, the chorus as a dramatic character, a phenom-
enon that will be discussed in much more detail in the following chapter.

4.3 Greek Tragedy in the Fourth Century,

and into the Hellenistic Period
4.3.1 Evidence of the Tragic Form in the Fourth Century,
and Hellenistic Period
Evidence of the tragic form in the 4th c. B.C.E. and early Hellenistic period is
extremely scanty and scattered. With the possible exception of the Rhesus,
a tragedy of unsure provenance, authorship, and date, which has come down
under the authorship of Euripides, not a single tragedy survives intact that
can be confidently dated in the 4th to the 1st c. B.C.E. Rather, the literary evi-
dence of Hellenistic tragedy consists entirely of fragments preserved in
papyri31 and later authors.32 The fragmentary literary evidence is comple-

29
Aristotle, Poet. 1449a.
30
An alternative tradition suggests that it was Aeschylus, not Sophocles, who added
the third actor. Themistius, Orat. 26.316d.
31
The fragments of Hellenistic drama are compiled in two volumes: TrGF.
32
The majority of information is provided in Aristotle, Poetics and Rhetoric;
Stobaeus, Anthologium; and Athenaeus. For quotations and information provided by other
commentators, see Xanthakis-Karamanos, Studies in Fourth-Century Tragedy, 26.
162 Chapter 4: The Dramatic Context of Tragic Choruses: Tragedy

mented by the depiction of dramatic scenes on papyrus fragments, artwork

on pottery from Southern Italy, 33 mosaics, sculptures, and terracottas that
represent dramatic characters and scenes, and the opinions of contem-
porary and later commentators.
The dearth of evidence for tragedy in the 4th century and in the Helle-
nistic period, coupled with the belief that Athens was weakened politically
and financially in the wake of the Peloponnesian War, has prompted many
scholars to suppose that tragedy suffered a severe decline in popularity and
influence after the death of Euripides.34 Such a view is supported by the
testimony of Aristophanes and Aristotle, who lambast the inferiority of
contemporary tragic poets in comparison with their 5th c. forebears,35 the
fact that reproductions of 5th c. plays began to be performed alongside new
ones, and a Roman literary tradition in which Hellenistic tragedians were
excluded from the pantheon of great Classical poets.36
Despite the lack of extant tragedies, we know of several prolific Hellen-
istic tragic poets in Athens, such as Carcinus, who is said to have written
160 plays and to have won eleven victories at the Dionysia,37 Astydamas,
who composed 240 plays and is said to have won fifteen times,38 along
with several others.39 Whatever might be said about the quality of these
tragedies vis-à-vis those of the 5th century, the prolific output of Athenian
tragic playwrights in the 4th century suggests that the popularity of tragedy

33
Scenes from various Aeschylean and Sophoclean tragedies are depicted on several
vases. See Thomas B. L. Webster, “South Italian Vases and Attic Drama,” CQ 42 (1948):
15–27; cf. Thomas B. L. Webster, “Fourth-Century Tragedy and the Poetics,” Hermes 82
(1954): 294–308; Trendall and Webster, Illustrations of Greek Drama, 1ff.
34
E.g., under the heading “Decline of Tragedy and Old Comedy,” Reinhold suggests
that “in the catastrophic environment of the Fourth Century B.C., tragedy ceased to be a
significant, dominant literary form.” Meyer Reinhold, Classical Drama: Greek and
Roman (Great Neck, N.Y.: Barron’s Educational Series, Inc., 1959), 176; cf. Humphrey
D. F. Kitto, “Le déclin de la tragédie à Athènes et en Angleterre,” in Le théâtre tragique:
Études de G. Antoine et al. réunies et présentées par J. Jacquot (Paris: Éditions du CNRS,
1962), 65–73. Others speak of the decline of serious drama in the 4th century. E.g., Xan-
thakis-Karamanos, Studies in Fourth-Century Tragedy, 6–14.
35
“The tragedies of our most recent playwrights are characterless … The older poets
made their characters talk like statesmen … those of today make them talk like rhetori-
cians.” Aristotle, Poet. 1450a–b. Cf. Aristophanes, Ran. 89; Ach. 140; Thesm. 168–170;
Pax 802–817.
36
Dionysius Halicarnassis, Cicero, and Quintilian each present lists in which only
these three tragedians are listed.
37
TrGF 70 T 1, 2.
38
TrGF 60 T 1, 3–7.
39
E.g., Theodectes, who wrote 50 plays, and won eight victories, and Aphareus, who
wrote 35 plays, and won twice at the City Dionysia and twice at the Lenaia. See Xantha-
kis-Karamanos, Studies in Fourth-Century Tragedy, 20.
 4.3 Greek Tragedy in the Fourth Century, and into the Hellenistic Period 163

in Athens in this period did not decline but rather grew.40 The increasing
popularity of tragedy is also suggested by the fact that many of the tragic
titles known from this period deal with topics that were unknown in the 5th
century, as well as the fact that permanent stone theatres were constructed
across the Mediterranean throughout the Greek world during the Helle-
nistic period.
The curious case of the Rhesus warrants special consideration. An intact
tragedy, it was included in various ancient manuscript traditions with the
plays of Euripides, although there is considerable doubt that Euripides
composed the play, on the basis of both internal and external evidence.41
Scholarship seems evenly divided between attributing the text to a very
early, or very late, period of Euripides’ career, and attributing it to a 4th
century imitator of Euripides.42 The lack of a consensus as to the author-
ship and date prevents us from using the Rhesus as a sure source of Helle-
nistic tragedy. Yet, because it very well may represent an example of 4th
century tragedy, it is most often included in discussions of tragedy in this
period.
The next largest extant tragic text that can be dated with a reasonable
degree of certainty to the Hellenistic period consists of 267 fragmentary
lines of a tragedy called The Exagoge, by a poet named Ezekiel.43 Focused
on the story of Moses, this text was most likely written by a Jewish citizen

40
“Despite the paucity of evidence, there is good reason to believe that tragedy
flourished in the Hellenistic period and remained much more important than our evidence
and the powerful influence of Aristophanes’ Frogs, which seems to announce the ‘death
of tragedy,’ might have suggested.” Fantuzzi and Hunter, Tradition and Innovation, 432.
Cf. Pat E. Easterling, “The End of an Era? Tragedy in the Early Fourth Century,” in
Tragedy, Comedy, and the Polis (ed. Alan H. Sommerstein et al.; Bari, Italy: Levante
Editori, 1993), 559–569.
41
On external grounds, scholars note the doubts expressed by ancient authors that the
text was in fact written by Euripides. In terms of internal evidence, scholars note the
deviation from dramatic norms as evidenced in Euripides’ other extant plays, something
admitted even by those who adhere to the notion that Euripides composed it. For a pre-
sentation of all of the external evidence relating to the author, provenance, and date of
the Rhesus, see Vayos Liapis, A Commentary on the Rhesus Attributed to Euripides (Ox-
ford: Oxford University Press, 2012); William Ritchie, The Authenticity of the Rhesus of
Euripides (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1964), 1–59; Gilbert Murray, The
Rhesus of Euripides (London: George Allen & Co., 1913), v–xii.
42
See Murray, Rhesus, v–xii; Ritchie, Authenticity of the Rhesus, 1–59; Dietrich
Ebener, Rhesos: Tragödie eines unbekannten Dichters (Berlin: Akademie Verlag, 1966).
43
The most comprehensive study of this text is Howard Jacobson, The Exagoge of
Ezekiel (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1983). Cf. Carl Holladay, Fragments
from Hellenistic Jewish Authors. Vol. 2: Poets (Atlanta: Scholars Press, 1989).
164 Chapter 4: The Dramatic Context of Tragic Choruses: Tragedy

of Alexandria,44 and composed sometime between the end of the 3rd cen-
tury and the middle of the 2nd c. B.C.E.45

4.3.2 Formal Elements of Tragedy in the Hellenistic Period

By considering these texts alongside fragmentary and artistic evidence, and
assessing all of this evidence against the testimony of later authors who
comment on the state of tragedy in this period, it is possible to trace at
least a general outline of the structures and characteristics of Hellenistic
tragedy. 46 The mythic plots of Classical tragedy remained important,
though an interest in past and recent historical events seems to have
framed storylines to a much greater extent than in Classical tragedy.47
Moreover, the plots of tragedy in this period appear to have eschewed
political topics. This is widely understood to be a result of the diminished
political importance of Athens,48 and the elimination of the polis as the
central political entity in Greece.
Largely on the basis of Horace’s claim that Hellenistic drama consisted
of a five-act structure, and the fact that each of the tragedies of Seneca
seem to reflect a five-act structure, many scholars have attempted to identi-
fy the traces of five acts in the Hellenistic tragic fragments. While the
structures of Hellenistic tragedy may remain a mystery, several formal
elements seem to have continued from the Classical period, including the
prologue, messenger speeches, and discernible episodes. At the same time,
several changes are evident. For instance, Horace laments the fact that
catastrophic events, which had never in Classical drama been represented
on-stage, were more commonly depicted in Hellenistic tragedy. 49 Many
more changes can be discerned with respect to metrical and dialectical
tendencies, choreography, and the form of the chorus, etc., the details of
which will be taken up in the next Chapter.

44
Scholars are almost unanimous in their belief that the text was composed in Alex-
andria, in spite of the lack of external evidence to corroborate this suggestion.
45
It was clearly written after the composition of the LXX, from which Ezekiel quotes
extensively, and before Polyhistor ( fl. 80–30 B.C.E.), who appears to have had knowledge
of it. See Jacobson, The Exagoge, 40–47. Cf. Martin Hengel, Judentum und Hellenismus
(WUNT 10; Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 1973), 200, 303, n. 383; Albin Lesky, Geschichte
der griechischen Literatur (Bern: Francke, 1963), 797; Elias Bickerman, From Ezra to
the Last of the Maccabees (New York: Schocken Books, 1972), 80–81.
46
Heinrich Kuch, “Continuity and Change in Greek Tragedy under Postclassical Con-
ditions,” in Tragedy, Comedy, and the Polis, 545–557; Easterling, “The End of an Era?,”
559–569; Xanthakis-Karamanos, Studies in Fourth-Century Tragedy, 3–20.
47
Xanthakis-Karamanos, Studies in Fourth-Century Tragedy, 15–18.
48
By eschewing political issues, 4 th-century and Hellenistic tragedy corresponds with
the apolitical nature of Middle and New Comedy. Kuch, “Continuity and Change,” 551.
49
Horace, Ars 185–188.
 4.4 Drama in Rome 165

4.4 Drama in Rome

4.4.1 Origins of Roman Drama
A discussion of the origins of drama in Rome must deal both with the his-
tory of: (1) Greek drama in Italy prior to the 3rd c. B.C.E.;50 and (2) native
traditions, most of whose origins, features, and connections to Roman
drama remain obscure.
The origins of drama in Rome can be explained in large part in terms of
a continuation of Greek drama in Roman territory. Greek theatre was preva-
lent on the coasts and islands of southern Italy (Magna Graecia) at least as
early as the 6th c. B.C.E., as the cultural influence of the Greeks in this area
at the time would suggest, and as the evidence of Greek theatres in the area
confirms.51 Among other Athenian playwrights known to have traveled far
and wide to showcase Athenian drama, Aeschylus is said to have staged
dramatic performances in Sicily in the early 5th c. B.C.E.52 Vases uncovered
in southern Italy dating from the early to the middle of the 4th c. B.C.E.
testify to the continuing presence of the Greek dramatic tradition there.53
In addition to a long history of Greek drama in southern Italy, indigen-
ous dramatic traditions of the Etruscans,54 Oscans,55 and early Romans56
50
The nature of Greek influence and adaptation in Rome is the subject of countless
studies. For an introduction, see Gordon Williams, Change and Decline: Roman Litera-
ture in the Early Empire (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1978).
51
For a survey of Greek theatres in southern Italy, see Frank Sear, Roman Theatres:
An Architectural Study (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2006), 48–49. On performance
of Greek drama in southern Italy, see Bruno Gentili, Theatrical Performances in the An-
cient World: Hellenistic and Early Roman Theatre (Amsterdam: J. C. Gieben, 1979).
52
See Alan H. Sommerstein, Greek Drama and Dramatists (London: Routledge,
2002), 33.
53
Although they were originally thought to depict some kind of farcical light drama
of indigenous peoples, these vases are widely thought to depict performances of Attic
Old and/or Middle Comedy. See J. Richard Green, “Notes on Phylax Vases,” Numisma-
tica e Antichità classiche 20 (1991): 49–56; Oliver Taplin, Comic Angels and Other
Approaches to Greek Drama through Vase-Paintings (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1993).
54
Etruscan paintings from the 6 th c. B.C.E. onward reveal a festival culture, which
included “processions, sport contests, gladiatorial combats, games in the circus, the play
of phersu, cult dances accompanied by a player on a wind instrument … mime-like per-
formances, and mimetic dances by masked players.” Gesine Manuwald, Roman Republi-
can Theatre (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2011), 24.
55
Later Roman authors speak of a popular farcical drama, fabula Atellana, wherein
stock characters are presented in a kind of burlesque comedy. For the primary evidence
relating to fabula Atellana, see Manuwald, Roman Republican Theatre, 18–19, 29, 169–
177; cf. Richard C. Beacham, The Roman Theatre and Its Audience (London: Routledge,
1991), 5–6.
56
E.g., the “Fescennine verses” were “improvised and responsive, and they contained
jesting and abuse; they were regarded as rustic and were performed regularly at weddings
and harvest festivals …” Horace, Ep. 2.1.139ff.; cf. Cicero, Resp. 4.10.12.
166 Chapter 4: The Dramatic Context of Tragic Choruses: Tragedy

are attested, which ought to have influenced early Republican Roman dra-
ma, even if the links between them are hard to trace with much precision.57
The traditions associated with the emergence of drama in Rome are
ambiguous. On the one hand are reports of the Etruscan and Oscan heritage
of Roman drama, including the Oscan heritage of Ennius, an early Roman
poet and tragedian,58 Oscan vocabulary in the tragic poet Pacuvius,59 and
the predominantly Etruscan pre-history of Roman drama presented by
Livy. 60 Alongside these are explicit links between early Roman drama and
the Greeks, such as Suetonius’ claim that the first Roman playwrights were
“half-Greeks,”61 and the Greek origins of names in early Roman drama.62
Nothing, however, indicates the supreme influence of Greek drama in
Rome more than the fact that, beginning with Livius Andronicus, the un-
disputed originator of drama in Rome, the earliest Roman tragedians (and
comedians) were producing adaptations of Greek dramas almost exclusive-
ly, a phenomenon that appears to have continued throughout the Roman
period. Why this was the case is well beyond the scope of my inquiry;
however, the ways in which Roman authors adapted Greek originals are
extremely important, especially with respect to the use (or lack of use) of
choruses in their reproductions.

4.4.2 Roman Playwrights

Livius Andronicus, one of the “half-Greek” playwrights mentioned by Sue-
tonius, is universally regarded as the founder of Roman drama, though little
of him or his plays are known. Nearly all modern sources agree that he
first produced a play (or plays) in Rome in 240 B.C.E. at the ludi Romani,63

57
On the Etruscan influence on Roman drama, see Henry D. Jocelyn, The Tragedies
of Ennius (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1967), 12ff. Cf. Jean-Paul Thuillier,
“Sur les origines étrusques du théâtre romain,” in Spectacula II: Le théâtre antique et ses
spectacles. Actes du colloque tenu au Musée Archéologique Henri Prades de Lattes les
27, 28, 29 et 30 avril 1989 (ed. Christian Landes and Véronique Kramérovskis; Paris:
Lattes, 1992), 201–208.
58
He was said by Aulus Gellius to have “three hearts,” meaning he knew Greek,
Latin, and Oscan. Aulus Gellius, N.A. 17.17.1.
59
Pacuvius, Trag. 64 (Fr. 224 West).
60
Livy traces the history of Roman drama back to scenic performances performed in
Rome by Etruscan performers in the mid-4th c. B.C.E., which were emulated by Roman
youths and to which was added comic banter, and which was later refined by professional
actors (histriones). Livy 7.2; cf. Valerius Maximus 2.4.4. A summary of Livy’s history is
offered in Manuwald, Roman Republican Theatre, 30–34.
61
Suetonius, Gramm. 1.2.
62
E.g., Varro, Ling. 7.82 (Frs. 256–258 West).
63
Cicero, Brut. 72; Tusc. 1.3; Sen. 50. Alterantive dates are offered by Livy, who
claims that he flourished in the middle of the 4th c. B.C.E., and Accius, who reports that
Livius first produced drama in Rome in 197 B.C.E.
 4.4 Drama in Rome 167

although nothing is known about the drama except that it was a Greek play
presented in Latin. He is said to have produced several such adaptations of
Greek plays, and several known titles, e.g., Achilles, Ajax, Trojan Horse,
Aegisthus, etc., also suggest this. As only a few lines are preserved, very
little can be said about how exactly Livius adapted these plays. Cicero
claimed that Roman playwrights translated into Latin “word for word,” and
this is assumed by many modern commentators simply to have been the
case.64 Yet, in the same paragraph Cicero implies the possibility that to the
originals could be added “our own opinions and style of composition …”65
Inferences about Livius’ transformation of Greek drama into Roman dress
are often made on the basis of later Roman playwrights, who similarly
adapted plays from Greek predecessors, though certainly not “word for
word.” Though it is now generally agreed that Roman playwrights must
have combined new and old elements, the exact nature of this process, i.e.,
whether Roman authors “copied,” “transcribed,” “transposed,” “adapted,”
and/or “modified,” Greek predecessors, is the subject of a longstanding
debate.66
A number of Roman playwrights are mentioned after Livius, including
notably Gnaeus Naevius67 (270–201 B.C.E.), who is considered the first
native Roman dramatist. In addition to composing a number of epics deal-
ing with major events in the history of Rome, he composed a number of
tragedies and comedies. Only about 60 verses of tragedy and 130 lines of
comedy are known.68 While Livius and Naevius composed both tragic and
comic works, those who followed them seem to have specialized in one or
the other, and from the mid-3rd c. B.C.E. it is possible to trace the distinct
contours of Roman tragedy and comedy.

64
E.g., Pighi prefers to speak of Roman drama as “Greek literature in Latin.” Manu-
wald, Roman Republican Theatre, 35, n. 78.
65
Cicero, Fin. 1.2.4. For a discussion, see Mario Erasmo, Roman Tragedy: Theatre to
Theatricality (Austin: University of Texas Press, 2004), 1–51; cf. Niall W. Slater, Plautus
in Performance: The Theatre of the Mind (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1985).
66
“Scholars’ answers range from the view that Greek-based Roman plays are basi-
cally literal translations of Greek models to the opinion that Roman poets used Greek
dramas as starting points, but transformed them into plays suitable for Roman audiences
rather freely and might sometimes not even have used a specific Greek dramatic model.”
Manuwald, Roman Republican Theatre, 282–283.
67
See Manuwald, Roman Republican Theatre, 194–204.
68
From what little remains, it is possible to draw connections between his predecessor
Livius, and his dramatic successors, most notably Plautus and Terence. George E. Duck-
worth, The Nature of Roman Comedy: A Study in Popular Entertainment (Princeton:
Princeton University Press, 1952), 40–42.
168 Chapter 4: The Dramatic Context of Tragic Choruses: Tragedy

4.4.3 Roman Tragedy

Types
Two types of Roman tragedy are typically distinguished: (1) Tragoedia, also
known as Fabula Crepidata;69 and (2) Praetextata. The former consists of
Roman tragedy that follows very closely the conventions of Greek tragedy
with respect to structure, style, and content. Many tragedies of this type
consist of adaptations of known Greek tragedies.70 The latter type, while
similar to Greek tragedies in terms of structure and style, differed primarily
in terms of content. That is, while Roman tragoedia created or adapted the
storylines of Greek drama, the storylines of Roman praetextata revolved
around the early history of Rome, and/or Roman public figures and affairs.71
Both tragoedia and praetextata are associated with each of the major
names in Republican Roman drama (Livius Andronicus, Naevius, etc.).
However, no tragedies from the Republican period survive intact, and what
does survive consists entirely of fragments, the testimony of commentators,
and known titles. As such, frustratingly little can be said with certainty
about tragedy in the Republican period. Of the 100 or so known Roman
tragoediae, most have Greek titles or Latin translations of Greek titles.
Mythical characters from the Greek tradition seem to have been central to
most plots, and the formal structural elements of Greek tragedy (prologue,
monologue, dialogue, episodes, choral stasima, messenger speeches, etc.)
most likely constituted the major structural elements.72

Seneca’s Tragedies
Clearer data exist for tragedy in the Imperial period in the form of eight
complete tragedies of Seneca, and two plays attributed to Seneca but
widely thought to have been written by another playwright after his

69
William Beare, The Roman Stage: A Short History of Latin Drama in the Time of
the Republic (3rd ed.; London: Methuen & Co., 1964), 70–84, 119–127; Florence Dupont,
L’acteur-roi ou le théâtre dans la Rome antique (Paris: Belles Lettres, 1985), 163–211;
Elaine Fantham, “Roman Tragedy,” in A Companion to Latin Literature (ed. S. Harrison;
Oxford: Wiley-Blackwell, 2005), 116–129; Anthony J. Boyle, An Introduction to Roman
Tragedy (New York: Routledge, 2006); Alessandro Schiesaro, “Republican Tragedy,” in
A Companion to Tragedy (ed. Rebecca W. Bushnell; Malden, Mass.: Blackwell Pub-
lishing, 2005), 269–286.
70
Roman tragoediae were recognized as Greek-style Roman drama even in antiquity.
See Cicero, Fin. 1.4–7; Acad. 1.10; Opt. gen. 18; Tusc. 2.48–50; Aulus Gellius, N.A. 11.4.
71
See descriptions of the content of Roman praetextata in Euanthius, Fab. 4.1–3;
Donatus, Com. 6.1–2. Manuwald, Roman Republican Theatre, 140–144.
72
Manuwald, Roman Republican Theatre, 138, 320–325.
 4.4 Drama in Rome 169

death.73 No firm evidence exists with which to date any of his tragedies,
though most scholars presume they were composed either during his exile
(41–49 C.E.), or sometime thereafter, perhaps during the time that the
young Nero was under his tutelage, or after he had become chief advisor to
Emperor Nero (54 C.E.).74 Despite questions about the precise dates of any
of the plays, they are typically grouped together on the basis of similarities
in metrical features,75 topical allusions,76 and/or stylistic tendencies.77
Each of Seneca’s plays is clearly an adaptation of a Greek tragedy
(Fabula Crepidata), and the titles betray the Greek originals (Agamemnon,
Oedipus, Trojan Women, Phoenician Women, Phaedra [= Hippolytus],
Medea, Thyestes, and Madness of Hercules). And yet, even a cursory look
at Seneca’s plays reveals departures from these eponymous antecedents.
For example, in structural terms, Seneca’s tragedies follow a strict five-act
rule, and the traditional beginning and endings of the play in Classical tra-
gedy, the choral parodos and exodos, are excised. Moreover, there appear
to be discrete scenes within the five acts, often separated by brief choral
interludes, which give a distinctive structural form to Seneca’s tragedy.
In addition to these structural dynamics, Seneca’s tragedies exhibit a
distinctive interest in relating the thoughts, motivations, and struggles of
individual characters.78 Moreover, there is a conspicuous absence of tradi-
tional gods and goddesses. In fact, only in the prologue to Madness of
Hercules, itself of questionable Senecan authorship, does a divine being

73
Ten titles attributed to Seneca have been passed down, but two, Hercules on Oeta
and Octavia, are not likely to have been written by him. See Richard J. Tarrant, Seneca’s
Thyestes (Atlanta: Scholars Press, 1985), 8–9.
74
Elaine Fantham, Seneca’s Troades: A Literary Introduction with Text, Translation,
and Commentary (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1982), 9–14; Tarrant, Seneca’s
Thyestes, 10–13; John G. Fitch, “Sense-Pauses and Relative Dating in Seneca, Sophocles
and Shakespeare,” AJP 102 (1981): 289–307.
75
Otto Herzog, “Datierung der Tragödien des Seneca,” RhM 77 (1928): 51–104.
76
Pierre Grimal, Sénèque, ou la conscience de l’Empire (Paris: Les Belles Lettres,
1977), 424–428. Cf. Herzog, “Datierung,” 83.
77
E.g., the frequency of emjambment, or the use of sense-pauses. See Fitch, “Sense-
Pauses,” 289–307.
78
This is reflected in the fact that in comparison to Classical tragedies, individual
monologues, soliloquies, and asides take up a much larger percentage of the overall num-
ber of lines in Seneca’s plays. Further, dialogues are much less frequent, and the role of
the chorus is reduced. This focus on the inwardness of the characters, which comes at the
expense of decreased interactions between characters, has been explained as a result of:
(1) a fascination across authors of the Imperial Age in the exploits of particularly influen-
tial individuals, e.g., the Epic heroes of Homer, Alexander the Great, and the Roman em-
perors; and (2) Seneca’s interest in promoting his Stoic philosophical views which centered
on the individual: controlling passions, conforming emotional and behavioral patterns with
nature, and considering the psyche as the locus of philosophical and ethical reflection.
Emily Wilson, Seneca: Six Tragedies (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2010), xxi.
170 Chapter 4: The Dramatic Context of Tragic Choruses: Tragedy

(Juno) appear. Although characters summon the gods on occasion, there is

not in Senecan drama nearly the same kind of preoccupation with their
roles in human affairs as in Classical tragedy. 79
Such differences prompt questions as to how Seneca arrived at his
adaptations. For example, how much in Seneca’s tragedies represents orig-
inal work, and to what extent did he replicate previous versions? If Seneca
relied on previous versions, what did they look like? Did he have access to
manuscripts, or did he rely on his memory of past performances?80 The
problems associated with identifying the traditions to which Seneca had
access prior to the composition of his own plays are brought to bear on the
matter of those elements in Seneca’s plays that are unique vis-à-vis the
Greek originals. That is, several trends can be identified in Seneca’s plays,
though it is unclear whether these elements are attributable to the ingenuity
of Seneca, or to the tradition of Roman drama that Seneca shared.

4.5 Tragic Performance Contexts

4.5.1 Festivals in the Fifth Century

In and around Athens during the Classical period, dramatic performances
took place exclusively under the auspices of festivals given in honor of
Dionysos, most notable among them the Great Dionysia, the Rural Diony-
sia, and the Lenaia.81 From sometime in the 6th c. B.C.E.82 until the late
Imperial period, Athens hosted a five or six day festival during month of
Elaphebolion (mid-March through early-April) in honor of Dionysos: the
“Great Dionysia,”83 or “City Dionysia.”84 Not least among the many social,
political, and religious events that surrounded the festival, and took place
during the festival itself, were the performances of dithyrambs, satyr-plays,
tragedies, and comedies.

79
Clarence W. Mendell, Our Seneca (New Haven: Yale University Press, 1941), 139–
151.
80
See Richard J. Tarrant, “Senecan Drama and Its Antecedents,” HSCP 82 (1978):
213–263.
81
The Anthesteria, another large Dionysian festival, likely did not include dramatic
performances until the 4 th c. B.C.E.
82
Although Dionysian events surely predated the 6th century, the Great Dionysia seems
to have originated with the institution of tragic performances in 501 B.C.E., and comedic
performances in 486 B.C.E. The establishment of performances at the Great Dionysia was
associated in antiquity with the ruler Peisistratus and Thespis in 534 B.C.E. However, the
“Fasti” inscription suggests that dramatic performances at the Great Dionysia were not
initiated until 501 B.C.E. IG ii2 2318.
83
Aristotle, Ath. pol. 56; IG ii2 654, 682.
84
Thucydides 5.20; Demosthenes, Mid. 10.
 4.5 Tragic Performance Contexts 171

Several events took place in the theatre on the day immediately prior to
the official commencement of the festival.85 The first official day of the
festival was given to the procession of the statue of the god, and to the
sacrifices, the sine qua non of any Greek, Hellenistic, or Roman festival.
Dramatic performances took up most of the remainder of the festival. The
regular order of the dramatic events is uncertain, and for schedules during
times of war there is even less certainty. 86 Likely the dithyrambic competi-
tions of five men’s and five boys’ choruses took place during the second
day, and during each of the next three days, tragedies and satyr-plays were
performed, with each day given to one playwright who was responsible for
producing three tragedies and one satyr-play.87 On the final day of the festi-
val, five comedies, produced by five different playwrights, were performed.
It seems that in the Classical period, new plays were typically performed
at each of the festivals. However, on rare occasion plays were reproduced
and performed again in the following years, either at the City Dionysia,
Lenaia, one of the Rural Festivals, or elsewhere in the Greek speaking
world,88 either because they were not well-received the first time89 or
because of popular demand.90
Much less is known about the Lenaia, an older festival held in (or
around) Athens91 in honor of Dionysos during the winter month of Game-
85
These included a public announcement of the manumission of slaves, a parade of
armored war-orphans who had reached age of service, libations in honor of the beginning
of the military season poured by the generals from each of the ten phylai, the announce-
ment of a variety of public honors, and a procession of the statue of Dionysos that
recreated the mythical advent of Dionysos into the City. For this procession (not to be
confused with the procession that took place on the first day of the festival), epheboi
carried the statue of Dionysos from the Dionysian temple to a temple near the Academy,
on the road leading to Eleutheria, the mythical home of Dionysos. In the evening, after
sacrifices were offered and hymns were sung, the epheboi brought the statue into the
theatre by torchlight. In addition to these social, political, and religious events, the poets
who were presenting plays in the Dionysia, and the actors who were performing in them,
would offer a kind of preview of the upcoming performances.
86
Compare the sequence of events envisioned by Csapo and Slater, Context of Ancient
Drama, 107; David Wiles, Greek Theatre Performance: An Introduction (Cambridge:
Cambridge University Press, 2000), 31; Walton, Greek Theatre Practice, 62.
87
The archon of the festival was in charge of choosing the playwrights, and chose each
playwright one year prior to the performance. See Rush Rehm, “Festivals and Audiences in
Athens and Rome,” in Cambridge Companion to Greek and Roman Theatre (ed. Marianne
McDonald and J. Michael Walton; Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2007), 187.
88
See Sebastiana Nervegna, “Staging Scenes or Plays? Theatrical Revivals of ‘Old’
Greek Drama in Antiquity,” ZPE 162 (2007): 14–42.
89
For example, Euripides produced two versions of Hippolytus, and perhaps Auto-
lycus and Phrixus. See Pickard-Cambridge, Dramatic Festivals, 100–103.
90
Popular demand was said to be the reason that Aristophanes produced Frogs twice.
91
The question of the location of the festival is a matter of some debate. Most
sources, some of which are of an extremely late date, locate the festival in the “Lenaion,”
172 Chapter 4: The Dramatic Context of Tragic Choruses: Tragedy

lion. Inscriptional and literary evidence confirms that the Lenaia included a
procession, sacrifices, as well as dramatic performances.92 The earliest
known performance of a comedy occurred in 442 B.C.E., and the earliest
tragedy a decade later.93 In addition to the fact that comedies may have
predated tragedies at the Lenaia, additional evidence suggests that comedy
was more closely associated with the Lenaia than was tragedy. For ex-
ample, more comedies were performed than tragedies, and the well-known
Classical tragic poets, with the exception of Sophocles, seem never to have
produced tragedies at the Lenaia.94
Individual Greek demes are known to have held smaller festivals, Rural
Dionysia, which usually took place during the winter month of Poseidon
(December), and which likewise included a procession,95 sacrifices, and
dramatic performances. Little is known about the dramatic performances
themselves at the Rural Dionysia, including at what point tragedies were
first performed at such festivals, exactly where they took place, the sched-
ule of events, etc.96 Nearly all of the remaining literary, inscriptional, and
archaeological evidence comes from the 4th c. B.C.E. or later, confirming
that tragic and/or comic performances took place at Rural Dionysia in sev-
eral demes in the 4th c. B.C.E., and confirming their popularity during this
period.97 Festivals in the rural demes continued into at least the 1st c. C.E.98

which was said to be in the agora, though there is no archaeological evidence to support
this. See Demosthenes, Cor. 129.
92
For a comprehensive summary of the primary evidence relating to the Lenaia, see
Pickard-Cambridge, Dramatic Festivals, 22–26.
93
This dating is based on the inscriptional victory-lists of comedic and tragic actors.
IG ii2 2325.
94
David Whitehead, The Demes of Attica (Princeton: Princeton University Press,
1986), 212–222; cf. Pickard-Cambridge, Dramatic Festivals, 38–39.
95
The procession centered around a group of revelers carrying a phallus on a pole.
What little we know of this procession comes from Aristophanes’ parody of it in Ach.
241–279, and what may be images of this procession on 4th-century South Italian vase-
paintings. See Tylor J. Smith, “The Corpus of Komast Vases: From Identity to Exegesis,”
in The Origins of Theater in Ancient Greece and Beyond: From Ritual to Drama (ed. Eric
Csapo and Margaret Miller; Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2007), 48–76.
96
Possible sites may have included Ikarion, on the basis of a reference to choregoi on
an inscription, which suggests that dramatic performances occurred there already in the
5 th c B.C.E., and Thorikos, at which there are remains of a theatre which imply the per-
formance of drama as early as the 6 th c. B.C.E.
97
Eleusis, Icarion, Aixone, Acharnai, Aigilia, Collytus, Glyphada, Paionia, Peiraeus,
Phyla, Rhamnous, and Salamis. There is archaeological evidence for 4th-century theatres
(perhaps earlier) at Rhamnus, Ikarion, Euonymon, and Argos. David Wiles, Tragedy in
Athens: Performance Space and Theatrical Meaning (Cambridge: Cambridge University
Press, 1999), 25–35; Walton, Greek Theatre Practice, 63; cf. Pickard-Cambridge, Dra-
matic Festivals, 42–49.
98
An anecdote offered by Plutarch suggests that this was the case (Plutarch, Epicurum
1098b), as does perhaps a frieze on the church of Hagios Eleutherios in Athens from
 4.5 Tragic Performance Contexts 173

Close as the connections were between Dionysian festivals and dramatic

performances in Athens and its environs, such performance contexts outside
of Attica are less clear. Dramatic performances were included in festivals
for other deities, such as a festival for the Olympic gods in Dion beginning
near the end of the 5th c. B.C.E.,99 and the festival for Athena at Coronea.100
In the 4th century, tragic choruses performed in Cyrene in honor of Artemis,
Apollo, or perhaps Apollo Iatros,101 and in the 3rd c., dramatic perform-
ances were a part of festival of the Soteria in Delphi, the festival of Heraia
in Argos, the festival of Naia in Dodona,102 and the Dionysia in honor of
Serapis in Alexandria.103 That the theatrical spaces were not in all places
and at all times the sacred space of Dionysos is confirmed by the fact that
theatres in Cyrene and Delos were constructed in sanctuaries of Apollo, as
was perhaps the theatre at Syracuse.104 Likewise, the theatre in Isthmia was

sometime in the 1 st c. B.C.E. to the 1 st c. C.E., which may depict a scene from a Rural
Dionysia. Ludwig Deubner, Attische Feste (Berlin: Heinrich Keller, 1932), 248ff. For
detailed analyses of some of the Rural Dionysia in the Hellenistic and Roman Republican
periods, see Ian Rutherford, “Theoria and Theatre at Samothrace: The Dardanos by
Dymas of Iasos,” in Greek Theatre and Festivals (ed. Peter Wilson; Oxford: Oxford
University Press, 2007), 279–293; Charles Crowther, “The Dionysus at Iasos: Its Artists,
Patrons, and Audience,” in Greek Theatre and Festivals, 295–334. For a detailed analysis
of the Dionysia in Delos, see Gregory M. Sifakis, Studies in the History of Hellenistic
Drama (London: Athlone, 1967).
99
Diodorus Siculus 17.16.3.
100
TrGF I DID B 12.
101
SEG 9, 13; 48, 2052. These inscriptions, each of which are dated to 335 B.C.E. and
describe the yearly expenditures of civic officials charged with the maintenance of sacred
spaces, mention expenses related to the maintenance of dithyrambic and tragic choruses.
The association of dithyrambic and tragic choruses with Dionysian festivals elsewhere
leads many to conclude that this inscription implies a cult of Dionysos which was flour-
ishing in Cyrene in the late 4 th c. B.C.E. However, there are no archaeological, epigraphic,
or literary remains of a precinct of Dionysos in Cyrene prior to the 1st c. B.C.E. It is likely,
therefore, that the choruses mentioned in these inscriptions performed in honor of another
god, such as Artemis, Athena, or Iatros (Apollo), each of whom are mentioned explicitly,
and for whom there are temple remains in Cyrene dated to the 4 th c. B.C.E. See Paola Cec-
carelli and Silvia Milanezi, “Dithyramb, Tragedy – and Cyrene,” in The Greek Theatre
and Festivals, 185–214. Cf. François Chamoux, Cyrène sous la monarchie des Battiades
(Paris: de Boccard, 1953), 271; André Laronde, Cyrène et la Libye hellénistique: Libykai
Historiai (Paris: Editions du Centre National de la Recherche Scientifique, 1987), 335.
102
This evidence comes from a 3 rd c. B.C.E. victory list of a tragic actor from Tegea.
3
SIG 1080.
103
Jane L. Lightfoot, “Nothing to Do with the technitai of Dionysus?,” in Greek and
Roman Actors: Aspects of an Ancient Profession (ed. Pat Easterling and Edith Hall; Cam-
bridge: Cambridge University Press, 2002), 221.
104
Ceccarelli and Milanezi, “Dithyramb,” 198. Cf. Scullion, “‘Nothing to Do with
Dionysus,’” 114.
174 Chapter 4: The Dramatic Context of Tragic Choruses: Tragedy

dedicated to Poseidon, in Oropos to the hero Amphiaraus, in Pergamum to

the Attalid rulers, and in Samos to Hera.105

Who Attended Festivals?

On the basis of the vulgarity of the dramas, and the fact that comedic poets
most frequently address the audience as “the men of Athens,” it was once
fashionable to argue that women and children were excluded from attend-
ing dramatic performances.106 Yet, a number of clues in the dramas them-
selves, and the testimony of later authors, suggests that Athenian youth107
and women were likely to be audience members for dramatic perform-
ances.108 Moreover, foreigners, slaves, and the poor also seem to have been
ordinary members of theatrical audiences in the Classical period.109

105
Scullion, “‘Nothing to Do with Dionysus,’” 102–137.
106
For a comprehensive summary of the primary sources for the composition of the
theatre audience, see Csapo and Slater, Context of Ancient Drama, 286–305. Cf. Pickard-
Cambridge, Dramatic Festivals, 268–270.
107
For example, in the parabasis of Peace, Aristophanes addresses both men and
youths (Aristophanes, Pax 765–766), while in Frogs, Aeschylus claims that Euripides is
ruining the youth by making them sit through his plays (Aristophanes, Ran. 1050–1051).
In Plato’s Gorgias, Socrates includes children among those who were negatively affected
by dramatic rhetoric (Plato, Gorg. 502b–d). Aristotle, by arguing that youths ought not to
be allowed to attend comedies until they had reached an age when they would be immune
from their detrimental effects, suggests that youths were, in fact, allowed to do so at the
time of his writing (Aristotle, Pol. 7.1336b).
108
Dionysian festivals were notable for being generally inclusive of women, and there
are specific examples that imply women attended the theatre. Aristophanes’ description
of a scene in which the women in the audience had escaped having the sacral barley-meal
thrown on them by the servant implies that women were members of the actual audience
(Aristophanes, Pax 962–967). A late 5th to early 4 th-century scholiast on Aristophanes re-
lates the decree of a certain Phyromachus, who had ordered that women be separated from
men in the theatre. For a recent and comprehensive treatment of women in the ancient
theatre, see David Kawalko Roselli, Theater of the People: Spectators and Society in
Ancient Athens (Austin: University of Texas Press, 2011), 158–194. See also Simon
Goldhill, “Representing Democracy: Women at the Great Dionysia,” in Ritual, Finance,
Politics (ed. Robin Osborne and Simon Hornblower; Oxford: Oxford University Press,
1994), 347–369; Walton, Greek Theatre Practice, 78–82; Anthony J. Podlecki, “Could
Women Attend the Theatre in Ancient Athens?,” Ancient World 21 (1990): 27–43.
109
The regularity which with foreigners attended the theatre in Athens is clear from
surviving evidence in the plays themselves. It is tacitly suggested by Aristophanes in
Acharnians, when he highlights the fact that there are no foreigners in the theatre during
the Lenaia (Aristophanes, Ach. 501–508). Likewise, in Plato’s Gorgias, Socrates laments
the “unflattering” effect of dramatic rhetoric upon “… women, and men, both slave and
free …” (Plato, Gorg. 502b–d; cf. Plato, Leg. 3.700c–701a). Finally, Theophrastus speaks
of the “Shameless Man” who would buy tickets for foreign guests, and then bring his
children and their pedagogue instead (Theophrastus, Char. 9.5). On foreigners in the
theatre, see Roselli, Theater of the People, 118–157.
 4.5 Tragic Performance Contexts 175

Festival and Dramatic Personnel

In Classical Athens, the responsibility for managing festivals, including the
Great Dionysia, fell to the archon eponymous.110 Alongside his festival
duties relating to the processions, sacrifices, opening and closing cere-
monies, etc., the archon was charged with selecting the poets to write the
plays, as well as the choregoi, who were largely responsible for funding
and producing dramatic productions.
It is unclear how the archon decided exactly which playwrights would
be chosen to present in the Dionysia, though poets perhaps read extracts of
their dramas to the archon for consideration.111 Whatever the process, the
objective of the poet was to be “granted a chorus,”112 which meant that the
archon would fund the performance of his play by allotting to him a fully-
funded chorus of citizens to perform in it. If the poet was not granted a
chorus, he could not present his play(s).
Funding dramatic performances was the responsibility of the choregos,
a wealthy citizen who was chosen each year by the archon. This selection
process was part and parcel of the system of leitourgia in antiquity, where-
by wealthy citizens were called upon to fund various activities of the state,
including the construction of warships, funding of various festivals, etc.113
As many as eight choregoi were required for every festival, as each of
the 3 tragic poets, and 5 comic poets, was assigned a choregos and chorus.
Of the many financial obligations required of the choregos in a given year,
which included expenses related to stage attendants, security personnel,
scenery, stage props, and perhaps the costumes, masks, and actors’ props,114
funding the chorus was the most expensive. The chorus required a trainer
(chorodidaskalos), a job which could be performed by the poet himself.115
The trainer typically requested an assistant, as well as funding for the
training of twelve, fifteen, or twenty-four chorus members,116 as well as
the musician(s).

110
So named because the year in which he served as the archon was named after him.
A similar position existed at the Lenaia: the archon basileus.
111
Plato, Leg. 7.817d.
112
Aristotle, Poet. 1449b.
113
For a discussion of leitourgia as it related to festival productions, see Peter Wilson,
The Institution of the Khoregia: The Chorus, the City, and the Stage (Cambridge: Cam-
bridge University Press, 2000), 21–49.
114
It isn’t clear which items were paid for by the choregos and which items were the
responsibility of the playwrights or actors. See Walton, Greek Theatre Practice, 67.
115
Aeschylus is purported to have trained his own choruses. Athenaeus 1.22a. Rehm,
Greek Tragic Theatre, 25.
116
Comic courses included 24 performers. The number of tragic chorus members in
the 5th century is a matter of some debate.
176 Chapter 4: The Dramatic Context of Tragic Choruses: Tragedy

Early on, poets seem to have played the lead roles, and perhaps several
of the minor roles, in their own productions,117 while hiring a professional
actor (or actors) to play the other roles.118 At some point in the middle of
the 5th century, protagonists began to be chosen by the state (perhaps by
the archon) and assigned to perform for the plays of one playwright.119 At
this point, the responsibility for paying the actors also shifted from the
playwrights to the state.
Despite the paucity of evidence in the Classical period, a competitive
environment for the dramatic elements of the festival(s) can be assumed on
the basis of the competitive nature of the other elements of Hellenic festi-
vals (athletic, choral, and musical),120 as well as inscriptional evidence and
the testimony of commentators confirming that post-Classical dramatic
performances were competitive.121 It is thought that the highest honors
were awarded to choregoi of tragic performances, and that they received
prizes commensurate with those given to the choregoi of dithyrambic
choruses, or to the winners of athletic competitions.122 Dramatic poets, as
well as the actors and choruses, also received awards.123

4.5.2 Performance Contexts in the Fourth Century

and into the Hellenistic Period
Proliferation of Performances
Abundant architectural, epigraphic, and literary evidence indicates that
tragedy continued as a popular art-form not only in Athens, but also in the
lands acquainted with Hellenic culture. The number of theatres in the Hel-
lenistic period increased dramatically in the lands conquered by Alexander
the Great and his successors, attesting to the popularity and influence of the

117
Plutarch, Sol. 29. See Walton, Greek Theatre Practice, 74; Pickard-Cambridge,
Dramatic Festivals, 94.
118
Schol. Aristophanes, Nub. 1267; Schol. Aristophanes, Eq. 537.
119
Walton, Greek Theatre Practice, 74–75; Rehm, Greek Tragic Theatre, 27–28.
120
The dithyrambic contests, for example, were competitive events about which much
more is known. Robin Osborne, “Competitive Festivals and the Polis: A Context for
Dramatic Festivals at Athens,” in Tragedy, Comedy and the Polis, 21–37; cf. David H. J.
Larmour, Stage and Stadium (Hildesheim: Weidmann, 1999), 1–55.
121
Larmour, Stage and Stadium, 1ff.
122
Rehm, “Festivals and Audiences,” 189.
123
So much can be gathered from the evidence of victory-lists on monuments erected
after the festivals, which included not only the choregos but also actors and choruses.
Much more information is preserved regarding the process of judging dramatic contests
(e.g., the random selection of the judges from the ten Athenian tribes, and the role of the
audience in influencing the judges’ decisions, etc.) than the awards themselves. See
Pickard-Cambridge, Dramatic Festivals, 70–125; Helen P. Foley, “Choral Identity in
Greek Tragedy,” CP 98.1 (2003): 1–7; Larmour, Stage and Stadium, 1ff.
 4.5 Tragic Performance Contexts 177

Greek theatre in these places. Although it is not possible to determine with

absolute certainty what precisely was performed at most of these theatres,
epigraphic evidence of tragic contests, poets, and actors in Athens, Delos,
Delphi, and in several other cities,124 suggests that performances of tragedies
were taking place in some or all of these theatres during the Hellenistic
period, likely alongside other Greek dramatic art-forms, e.g., comedies,
dithyrambs, and satyr-plays.125 Despite the proliferation of dramatic per-
formance outside of Athens in the 4th century, there is no reason to suppose
that Athens was no longer the center for the production of Greek drama. It
seems to have remained so until the rise of Greek-style drama in Italy in
the beginning of the 3rd century, when the center of gravity begins to shift
to Rome.

Re-Orientation of the Festivals

Drama in the Classical period was strongly associated with, though not
confined in all areas, to Dionysian festivals. The association of drama with
Dionysos remained strong into the Hellenistic period. Philip of Macedon
and Alexander the Great each instituted Dionysian festivals in recently
conquered cities (e.g., Olynthus in 348 B.C.E. and Dion in 335 B.C.E.),
which likely included dramatic performances, in order to celebrate their
military conquests.126 Theocritus speaks of the “sacred games of Dionysos,”
and professional troupes of actors are known to have worked under the
patronage of Dionysos throughout the Hellenistic period. Dionysos con-
tinued to be the patron deity of the Great Dionysia in Athens, and through-
out many of the demes in Attica well into the Imperial Roman period.
Dionysos may not have held the exclusive rights to drama, but in many
ways Dionysos extended his influence with the expansion of Greek culture
in the Hellenistic period.127
In the early Hellenistic period, festivals (Dionysian or otherwise) appear
to have become less exclusive in terms of the events that took place there-
in. In contrast to the exclusively dramatic festivals of the 5th century in
Athens and its environs, or the festivals in which athletic contests pre-
dominated the festivities,128 there is evidence that dramatic, athletic, and

124
See Sifakis, Studies, 24–30.
125
The testimony of Roman Republican authors concerning Livius Andronicus and the
origins of drama in Rome provides more certain evidence that Greek-style tragedies were
performed in Rome at the beginning of the 3rd c. B.C.E. and through the Republican period.
126
Rehm, “Festivals and Audiences,” 190.
127
See Lightfoot, “Nothing to Do with the technitai of Dionysus?,” 209–224.
128
E.g., the Greater and Lesser Panathenaia in Athens, as well as other regional and
Panhellenic games throughout the Greek world. For a list of such athletic events, see
Larmour, Stage and Stadium, 187–192.
178 Chapter 4: The Dramatic Context of Tragic Choruses: Tragedy

musical competitions occurred concurrently during at least some festivals

in the Hellenistic period.129
At about the same time, festivals became more closely aligned with
ruling political powers, and in particular the rulers’ cults. As such, tragic
performances themselves became associated with rulers and their cults.
Performances began to be performed under the auspices of festivals orga-
nized in honor of rulers,130 and actors’ guilds were sometimes explicitly
associated with rulers and their cults.131 The integration of dramatic per-
formances with rulers’ cults only increases through the Hellenistic period
and into the Roman periods.132

Acting Guilds
Coinciding with the increase in festivals that included dramatic perform-
ances and the proliferation of theatre construction during the early Helle-
nistic period was a rise in professional associations of poets, actors, musi-
cians, choruses, chorus-directors, and all those who took part in dramatic
performance.133 Such guilds are first attested in Athens in the beginning of
the 3rd c. B.C.E.,134 and evidenced in several locales later in the 3rd cen-
tury,135 though their existence may be inferred at an earlier date from the
testimony of several commentators,136 and from the likelihood that a rise in
professional acting in the 4th and 5th century would have necessitated some
kind of organization.137 The rise of acting guilds in the Hellenistic period is
129
Larmour, Stage and Stadium, 1–25, 171–177.
130
E.g., Antiocheia and Laodicea instituted by Ptolemy Philadelphus II in Alexandria
in the 270’s B.C.E. SEG 41 (1991) 1003 2.1.8.
131
Lightfoot, “Nothing to Do with the technitai of Dionysus?,” 220–221.
132
On the relation of festivals and rulers’ cults, see Christian Habicht, Gottmenschen-
tum und griechische Städte (München: Beck, 1970), 149–150.
133
Pickard-Cambridge, Festivals, 286–315; Brigitte Le Guen, “L’activité dramatique
dans les îles grecques à l’époque hellénistique,” REA 103.1/2 (2001): 261–298; Brigitte
Le Guen, “Théâtre et cités à l’époque hellénistique: ‘Mort de la cité – mort du théâtre?’,”
REG 108 (1995): 59–90; Brigitte Le Guen, Les associations de technites dionysiaques à
l’époque hellénistique (2 vols.; Paris: ADRA, 2001).
134
An inscription at Delphi dated to 277 B.C.E. alludes to such a guild. IG ii2 1132.
135
Isthmia and Nemea in the middle of the 3rd c. B.C.E. SIG3 457, 460. Ptolemais in
Egypt in the middle of the 3 rd c., B.C.E. OGIS 50, 51. Teos in the last quarter of the 3rd c.
3
B .C. E. SIG 507, 563–565.
136
Both Demosthenes and Aristotle refer to groups of actors available for hire (tech-
nitai), which becomes the common designation for members of dramatic guilds in the
Hellenistic period. Moreover, such persons are ascribed dramatic and political functions
known to have been functions of later guilds. Demosthenes, Fals. leg. 12, 18, 94, 192,
315; Cor. 21; Aristotle, [Prob.] 20.10; Aeschines, Fals. leg. 15–19.
137
These guilds shared features with other clubs and associations of the Hellenistic
period, including the organizational structure, civic benefits, and diplomatic influence.
See Lightfoot, “Nothing to Do with the technitai of Dionysus?,” 209–224; Edward J. Jory,
 4.5 Tragic Performance Contexts 179

often cited as evidence that the actor had gained pre-eminence in the world
of drama over and above the playwright and the chorus.138 Importantly, the
rise of the actor and actors’ guilds corresponds with a decline in the promi-
nence of tragic choruses in this period, which will be discussed in more
detail in the following chapter.

New Productions alongside Revival Performances

Around the beginning of the 4th c. B.C.E., poets seem to have begun repro-
ducing the tragedies of Aeschylus, Sophocles, and Euripides, for perform-
ance at the City Dionysia alongside the regular daily program of three new
tragedies and one new satyr-play. 139 Reproductions of 5th-century tragedies
were officially integrated into the dramatic program in 341–339 B.C.E.140
No record exists for a similar practice occurring at the Lenaia,141 but the
reproduction of plays is well-attested outside of Athens.142
At some point, it seems that reproducing tragedies from the 5th century
became as common (and perhaps more so) than the production of new
plays, both at Dionysian festivals and at other dramatic venues.143 This
phenomenon testifies to the increasing canonization of the plays of
Aeschylus, Sophocles, and Euripides, and to the fact that their work was
taken to be the standard by which subsequent drama was evaluated.144 As
such, there may have been more prestige associated with performing old
tragedies and comedies. So much is suggested by an inscription from
Tanagra (83 B.C.E.), which indicates that performers were paid more for
reproducing old tragedies than they were paid for performing new ones.145

“Associations of Actors in Rome,” Hermes 98 (1970): 224–225; Sifakis, Studies, 99ff.

For the primary evidence, see Csapo and Slater, Context of Ancient Drama, 239–255.
138
Aristotle laments the fact that actors had become more important than the poets.
Aristotle, Rhet. 1403b31–35.
139
IG ii2 2318. For a summary of the reproductions of old tragedies, see Xanthakis-
Karamanos, Studies in Fourth-Century Tragedy, 20–24.
140
IG ii2 2320. An analogous trend existed for the (re-) performance of comedies.
141
In 288 B.C.E., all of the comedies were all still new. Pickard-Cambridge, Dramatic
Festivals, 126.
142
For a comprehensive presentation of evidence of reproductions in the Hellenistic
period, see Nervegna, “Staging Scenes or Plays?,” 19–21.
143
Inscriptional evidence attests such reproductions at festivals in Argos, Dodona,
Delphi, Oropos, Tanagra, Thespiai, Samos, and elsewhere. Sifakis, Studies, 1–2.
144
The canonization of the 5 th-century tragedians was also signaled in other ways.
“Ten years after Astydamas’ manifesto Lykourgos rebuilt the theatre of Dionysos in stone,
erected in it the statues of the three great tragedians of the fifth century and established
their texts … All the influence of Lykourgos, therefore, goes to establishing the fifth cen-
tury tragedians as classics and producing them in a way worthy of classics, and sounds
the knell of new tragedy.” Webster, “Fourth Century Tragedy and the Poetics,” 307.
145
IG vii. 540. Lightfoot, “Nothing to Do with the technitai of Dionysus?,” 214.
180 Chapter 4: The Dramatic Context of Tragic Choruses: Tragedy

Other Performance Contexts: Reading Drama

While public performance was the primary form in which dramas were
performed throughout antiquity, a new trend in dramatic reception appears
to emerge in the 4th c. B.C.E.: drama that was read aloud, but not performed
by actors and chorus on-stage. The primary evidence for this trend depends
on Aristotle’s discussion of a particular type of playwright, the ἀναγνωστι-
κοί.146 In a larger discussion of the essential characteristics of written
composition and oral delivery, Aristotle contrasts the ἀναγνωστικοί, who
appear to be poets whose works were meant for reading, with poets whose
works were meant to be performed.147 He singles out the tragic poet
Chaeremon as just such an ἀναγνωστικός, who is said to compose as
precisely as a professional speech-writer.148 By contrasting Chaeremon’s
precise, compositional style with other forms that are more suitable for
oral delivery, Aristotle seems to suggest that Chaeremon’s plays were
well-suited for reading. While many scholars take Aristotle’s distinction at
face-value, it is hotly debated whether these dramas were considered by
Aristotle simply to be better suited for reading than for performance, or to
be intended solely for a reading audience.149
Additional evidence suggests that there was a reading audience for
drama. For example, in Aristophanes’ Frogs, Dionysos reads Euripides’
Andromeda to himself. Moreover, there is a tradition that Plato kept a col-
lection of mime-plays from the poet Sophron under his pillow,150 suggest-
ing that Plato read the mime-plays.

4.6 Dramatic Performance in the Roman Period

4.6.1 Increasing Number of Performance Contexts

In the Republican period, drama was performed in a wide array of perform-
ance contexts. Drama continued to be performed in the context of public

146
Aristotle, Rhet. 1413b12.
147
Cf. Demetrius’ (3 rd c. B.C.E.?) discussion of two types of dramatic presentation: the
reading style, characteristic of the dramatist Philemon, and the acting style of Menander.
Demetrius, Eloc. 193.
148
See also Kuch, “Continuity and Change,” 556–557.
149
See Rudolf Pfeiffer, History of Classical Scholarship: From the Beginnings to the
End of the Hellenistic Age (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1968); Gerald F. Else, Aristotle’s
Poetics: The Argument (Ann Arbor: University of Michigan Press, 1967).
150
1 Diogenes Laertius, Lives 3.18. Athenaeus attributes this same story to Duris (340–
270 B.C.E.). Athenaeus 11.3.504b. For a summary of all of the evidence, see Jill Gordon,
Turning toward Philosophy: Literary Device and Dramatic Structure in Plato’s Dia-
logues (University Park, Pa.: Penn State Press, 1999), 71.
 4.6 Dramatic Performance in the Roman Period 181

festivals (ludi),151 and festivals in this period continued in large part along
the lines of Greek festivals. For example, each of the five ludi known to
have taken place in the middle of the 3rd c. B.C.E. was established in honor
of a God,152 took place over the course of at least a few days, and included
dramatic performances.153 Opportunities for dramatic performances in-
creased in the Roman period as the number of official festivals increased.
By the Imperial period, there were around fourteen days officially allotted
exclusively for dramatic performance.154
In addition to annual festivals held in honor of a god, dramatic perform-
ances may have been included as one-time performances (munera) in honor
of special occasions, funerals,155 temple dedications, or military victories.156
Such contexts are rightly considered religious to the extent that they were
public, and included processions, sacrifices, and dramatic performances,
etc.157 But these contexts served to link the performance of drama with
particular individuals, and with the emperors in particular during the
Imperial period. This association is made clear architecturally as theatres
were often connected with political figures, and the temples associated
with them. Such was the case with the first permanent theatre in Rome,
dedicated by Pompey after his conquests in Asia. Not only did Pompey

151
In Rome, ludi referred both to the dramatic performances at festivals (e.g., ludi
scaenes), and to the festivals themselves (e.g., ludi Romani).
152
E.g., the ludi Megalenses were held in honor of Cybele; the ludi Romani in honor
of Liber, the Roman counterpart of Dionysos; the ludi Apollinares in honor of Apollo; the
ludi plebeii in honor of Jupiter; the ludi Florales in honor of the Goddess Flora.
153
It is likely that at least some of these festivals were taking place much earlier than
240 B.C.E. On Republican Roman festivals, see Manuwald, Roman Republican Theatre,
41–49; Harriet I. Flower, “Fabulae Praetextae in Context: When Were Plays on Contem-
porary Subjects Performed in Republican Rome?,” CQ 45 (1995): 170–190; Lily Ross
Taylor, “The Opportunities for Dramatic Performances in the Time of Plautus and
Terence,” TAPA 68 (1937): 284–304.
154
Peter J. Davis, Seneca: Thyestes (London: Duckworth, 2003), 16.
155
Dupont, L’acteur-roi, 218ff. Cf. Flower, “Fabulae Praetextae,” 177–179.
156
Public festivals in honor of Sulla (ludi Victoria Sullanae) and Caesar (ludi Victo-
riae Caesaris) in 81 and 46 B.C.E. Earlier festivals in honor of military victories are
attested by Livy 36.36.1–2; 39.5.7–10. See Richard Beacham, Spectacle Entertainments
of Early Imperial Rome (New Haven: Yale University Press, 1999), 2–44.
157
The prologue in Terence’s Mother-in-Law hints at the competition between boxers,
tightrope walkers, and gladiators to attract an audience’s attention at the ludi. See Rehm,
“Festivals and Audiences,” 193–194. Cf. John P. V. D. Balsdon, Life and Leisure in An-
cient Rome (New York: Bodley Head, 1967), 244–252; C. W. Marshall, The Stagecraft
and Performance of Roman Comedy (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2006),
16–20; Matthew Leigh, Comedy and the Rise of Rome (Oxford: Oxford University Press,
2004), 3.
182 Chapter 4: The Dramatic Context of Tragic Choruses: Tragedy

bequeath the theatre to the city, but its steps were said to have led up to his
Temple of Victory.158
Although little is known about the details of performances of dramas at
Roman festivals, they often included chariot races, mimes, beast-fights,
wrestling, boxing, rope-dancing, etc., in addition to tragedies and come-
dies.159 In the absence of permanent theatre buildings, which were not con-
structed in Rome until 55 B.C.E., plays may have been staged in front of the
temple of the god to whom the festival was dedicated on structures that were
erected solely for the purpose of dramatic performance. The steps of the
temples may have served as ad hoc auditorium seats.160 Opportunities for
dramatic performances further increased into the Imperial period, and by
the time of Augustus as many as 43 days of the year were given to dra-
matic performances. Attendance at dramatic performances seems to have
been open to the entire populace, including women, wet-nurses, children,
slaves, attendants, and prostitutes,161 and admission was free of charge.
Festivals in the Republican Roman period likely included performances of
new tragedies (and comedies), though there is much evidence that revival
performances of older drama were increasingly common.162 As was the case
of Greek drama in the Classical period, Roman tragedies might be repeated-
ly performed according to their level of popularity. 163 By the Imperial peri-
od, there is evidence that Roman authors had all but ceased to write new
plays for performance, and that dramatic performances in the Imperial the-
atre consisted almost exclusively of revival performances of older dramas.164

4.6.2 Roman Acting Guilds

The first Roman guild, which is associated with the first Roman dramatist,
Livius Andronicus, is attested in 207 B.C.E.165 The guild, whose members
are called scribae and histrionae, seems to have been modeled on the
Greek system in terms of organization, political influence, and benefits for
guild members. An exception to this consisted of the fact that their patron
god was not Dionysos, but rather Minerva.166 Local Greek Dionysian

158
Aulus Gellius, N.A. 10.1.5.
159
Cicero, Leg. 2.38; Livy 33.25.1; 40.52.3; 42.10.5.
160
John Arthur Hanson, Roman Theater-Temples (Princeton: Princeton University
Press, 1959), 29–39.
161
The prologue of Plautus’ Poenulus addresses each of these groups, while Terence
speaks of women in attendance (Hec. 35), and Vitruvius alludes to the presence of “citi-
zens with their wives and children.” Vitruvius 5.3.1.
162
Beacham, The Roman Theatre and Its Audience, 154.
163
Manuwald, Roman Republican Theatre, 108–119.
164
Rehm, “Festivals and Audiences,” 194.
165
Jory, “Associations,” 225–227.
166
Jory, “Associations,” 225–233.
 4.6 Dramatic Performance in the Roman Period 183

guilds, which were organized in the East through the Roman period, seem
to have operated alongside local Roman dramatic guilds in the West. These
guilds remained active well into the Imperial period, at which time local
guilds seem to have given way to a singular, “worldwide” organization of
dramatic artists. However, at the end of the 3rd c. C.E., not long after the
guilds seem to have reached their pinnacle of popularity and influence,
they disappear entirely from the historical record.167

4.6.3 Recitatio
Commentators have long doubted that Roman tragedies were always per-
formed as full-scale productions in the theatre. The evidence of dramas
that were read aloud in the Hellenistic period casts such doubt, though fur-
ther evidence exists in the form of several dramatic elements in Seneca’s
tragedies that appear unlikely to have been performed on-stage. A case in
point is Act 2 of Seneca’s Oedipus, in which cattle are sacrificed and later
rise to attack the priests. Many other examples arouse similar suspicion.168
In many other ways Seneca’s tragedies seem to have been composed with-
out consideration for the realities of theatrical production: “The setting can
fluctuate without warning … absent characters appear at a moment’s
notice … and figures on stage just as abruptly vanish … action that would
be visible to a theatre audience is elaborately narrated … while significant
entrances and exits are reduced to dumb-shows by a shorthand style of
description.”169 A passing remark by Ovid casts further doubt that Roman
tragedies were performed in the theatre. While he is known to have written
at least one tragedy, Medea, he claimed never to have written for the
theatre, which suggests that this tragedy was not performed in one.170
The question remains what kind of performance context could have
been intended for Roman tragedies if not the theatre. Quintilian may offer
a clue in his description of an argument between Seneca and Pomponius.
Quintilian describes an argument between the two men that had become
public to the point that it was said to have made its way into the prefaces
(praefationes) of each of their tragedies.171 Quintilian’s choice of words
may be illustrative. If Quintilian meant to describe the prologue of a play
that was performed in a theatre, he would have likely chosen the term pro-

167
The last recorded evidence for a dramatic guild dates to 274/275 C.E., during the
reign of Aurelian. Csapo and Slater, Context of Ancient Drama, 242.
168
For a summary of those elements of Seneca’s plays that seem to pose particular
problems for performance, see Otto Zwierlein, Die Rezitationsdramen Senecas (Meisen-
heim am Glan: Hain, 1966); cf. Fantham, Seneca’s Troades, 34–49.
169
Tarrant, Seneca’s Thyestes, 14.
170
Ovid, Tr. 5.7.27.
171
Quintilian, Inst. 8.3.31.
184 Chapter 4: The Dramatic Context of Tragic Choruses: Tragedy

logus. However, insofar as the Latin word praefatio denotes the beginning
of a text that was meant to be recited, such as a legal or religious document,
Quintilian’s passing remark may be a clue that these tragedies were in-
tended for public recitation.
Indeed, the testimony of several Roman authors appears to confirm that
some tragedies were presented in the form of a public recitation.172 Tacitus
recounts the story of the poet Curiatius Maternus, who is said to have pub-
licly recited his tragedy Cato.173 Likewise, Pliny relates the story of Pom-
ponius Secundus, a contemporary of Seneca, who first recited his tragedy
amongst friends before bringing it to the theatre for full performance.174
This suggests that the recitation of a tragedy did not necessarily preclude
stage performance.
Thus, the question of the performance context for tragedy in the Roman
periods is not adequately posed in strictly dualistic terms, i.e., either
recitation or theatrical performance,175 though there are many who argue
vigorously that Seneca’s plays were composed solely with the intent of
being performed exclusively in the theatre.176 At any rate, it is difficult to
determine what exactly a recitative performance of tragedy entailed.
Roman authors describe the practice of recitation of other poetic forms as a
solo performance, often by the poet himself.177 It appears this may have
been the case with Roman tragedy. This is suggested by Tacitus’ story of
Curiatius Maternus, although it is not clear how exactly one performer
would have successfully recited scenes that featured dialogue,178 or would
have performed the role of the chorus. It may have been that more than one
performer could have been employed in recitation, or that perhaps only
parts of Seneca’s were performed. So-called excerpt performances may
have eliminated the need for more than one performer.179

172
For a summary of the ancient evidence, see Zwierlein, Die Rezitationsdramen Sene-
cas, 127–166; Pfeiffer, History of Classical Scholarship to the End of the Hellenistic Age,
28ff.; Howard Jacobson, “Two Studies on Ezekiel the Tragedian,” GRBS 22 (1981): 168.
173
Tacitus, Dial. 2.1–3.3.
174
Pliny, Ep. 7.17.
175
Tarrant, Seneca’s Thyestes, 13, 15.
176
William M. Calder, “Originality in Seneca’s Troades,” CP 65 (1970): 75–82; Léon
Herrmann, Le théâtre de Sénèque (Paris: Belles Lettres, 1924).
177
Two passages in Pliny (Ep. 7.17; 9.34) suggest that this was the norm, and there is
no explicit testimony to the contrary. See Fantham, Seneca’s Troades, 47.
178
Cecil J. Herington, “Senecan Tragedy,” Arion 5 (1966): 422–471.
179
Herrmann, Le théâtre de Sénèque. Cf. Pierre Grimal, “Sénèque: Le théâtre latin
entre la scène et le livre,” Vita Latina 89 (1983): 2–13; Dana F. Sutton, Seneca on the
Stage (Leiden: Brill, 1986); George W. M. Harrison, “Semper ego auditor tantum? Per-
formance and Physical Setting of Seneca’s Plays,” in Seneca in Performance (ed. George
W. M. Harrison; London: Duckworth, 2000), 137–150; C. W. Marshall, “LOCATION!
LOCATION! LOCATION! Choral Absence and Dramatic Space in Seneca’s Troades,” in
 4.7 Theatre Buildings 185

4.7 Theatre Buildings

4.7.1 Theatres in the Classical Period

Imagining the contours of the 5th century theatre is limited by three factors:
(1) So very few of the remains of theatres can be reasonably dated to the
5th century; 180 (2) Many of the architectural features of theatres in the
Classical period were most likely constructed of wood, which have not
survived as have the stone and marble structures of the 4th century and
later; and (3) A complete lack of (original) stage instructions, and a dearth
of unambiguous clues in the plays themselves, which might have given an
indication of the theatres and their features. The dearth of primary evi-
dence permits only tentative and tenuous reconstructions of nearly every
aspect of Classical theatres. Reconstructions are possible, however, on the
basis of secondary evidence, which includes the archaeological remains of
the Classical period found underneath the stone and marble ruins of
Hellenistic and Roman ruins, testimony of later authors who comment on
the Classical theatres, and clues in the Classical plays themselves. Given
the secondary nature of the evidence, the fact that different scholars
interpret this evidence differently, and the conflicting nature of much of
the evidence, there is rarely a consensus about the details of these recon-
structions. Rather, nearly every aspect of the reconstruction(s) is a matter
of considerable debate.

Theatron
Derived from the infinitive θεᾶσθαι (“to see”), the theatron refers to the
area where spectators could observe events.181 Prior to the construction of
permanent theatres, it may have been that the theatron consisted of the 360

Seneca in Performance, 27–52; Peter Davis, Shifting Song: The Chorus in Seneca’s
Tragedies (Hildesheim: Olms-Weidmann, 1993); Henry Ansgar Kelly, “Tragedy and the
Performance of Tragedy in Late Roman Antiquity,” Traditio 35 (1979): 21–44; Albrecht
Dihle, “Seneca und die Aufführungspraxis der römischen Tragödie,” Antike und Abend-
land 29 (1983): 162–171; Gyllian Raby, “Seneca’s Trojan Women: Identity and Survival
in the Aftermath of War,” in Seneca in Performance, 173–195; Katharina Volk, “Putting
Andromacha on Stage: A Performer’s Perspective,” in Seneca in Performance, 197–208.
180
In the beginning of the 20th century, the only extant theatre from the 5th century
was the Theatre of Dionysos on the slope of the Acropolis in Athens. Even now the
number of theatres that can be dated to the Classical period remains less than ten.
Moreover, none of those dated to the 5 th century have been found intact in the dimensions
in which they were originally constructed, due to the fact that Hellenistic and Roman
theatres were built directly on the site(s) of the Classical theatres.
181
E.g., Xenophon, Hell. 7.4.31.
186 Chapter 4: The Dramatic Context of Tragic Choruses: Tragedy

degree space around the orchestra, where spectators simply stood at the
orchestra level, or sat on naturally occurring embankments.182
It is likely that spectators in the Classical period, whether in a circle
around the orchestra, or on naturally occurring embankments, sat in
bleachers made of wood. Aristophanes pokes fun of the fact that the
spectators’ seats were made out of wood,183 while the (much later) com-
pilations of Photius, Suidas, and Hesychius, define these wooden structures
for theatre-goers. Suidas describes the collapse of just such a wooden
theatron in Athens in 499 B.C.E., which prompted the Athenians to build a
more permanent structure.184 Theatres constructed out of stone are not
evidenced at Athens or anywhere else until sometime in the 4th century. 185

Orchestra
The orchestra refers to the flat surface situated between the theatron and
skene. There is an almost complete lack of physical evidence for orches-
tras from the 5th century, most likely owing to the fact that they were made
of earthen clay. 186 The dearth of physical evidence for 5th-century orches-
tras leaves much room for conjecture and disagreement as to their precise
dimensions. A rectilinear orchestra is suggested by the rectilinear orienta-

182
See, for example, the auditorium embankments at Rhamnous, Ikarion, Euonymon,
Thorikos, Priene, Megalopolis, Oropos, Delos, Eretria, and the Theatre of Dionysos in
Athens. See plans in Wiles, Tragedy in Athens, 23–38; cf. Sir Arthur Pickard-Cambridge,
The Theatre of Dionysus in Athens (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1946), 198–210.
183
Aristophanes, Thesm. 395.
184
Heschyius described the wooden structures on which spectators sat prior to the
construction of a permanent theatre: “… wooden benches stood, upon which the specta-
tors stood, fell, and after this a theatron was built by the Athenians.” Heschyius, s.v. par’
aigeirou Thea. Cf. Suidas, s.v. ikria.
185
The lack of physical evidence precludes the possibility of knowing with certainty
the shape(s) of the auditoriums in each of the theatres of the Classical period. The con-
sistency of the slightly more than semi-circular shape of the auditoriums in extant theatres
of the 4 th century, and into the Roman period, suggests that a semi-circular shape was
most common in the Classical period. And yet, several of the extant auditoriums that can
be reasonably dated to the 5th century or earlier are rectilinear in shape, leading others to
the conclusion that rectilinear auditoriums were standard in the Classical period, even in
theatres that later featured semi-circular auditoriums in the Hellenistic and Roman periods.
186
The positive archaeological evidence from the 5th century is limited to a half-dozen
stones unearthed in the Dionysian Theatre in the 1880’s by Dörpfeld, which were thought
to have delineated the orchestra. The arrangement of the stones suggested to Dörpfeld a
circular shape, though archaeologists in his wake have disagreed as to the dimensions of
the circle, or whether the stones confirm a circular shape at all. See Wilhelm Dörpfeld
and Emil Reisch, Das griechische Theater (Athens: Barth und von Hirst, 1896). Sub-
sequent archaeologists have been split as to whether or not in the Classical period the
orchestra in the Dionysian theatre was circular. For a brief synopsis of the various recon-
structions of the 5 th century orchestra, see Wiles, Tragedy in Athens, 44–46.
 4.7 Theatre Buildings 187

tion at several theatre sites.187 Two clues, however, point to the likelihood
that most theatrical orchestras in the Classical period were circular: (1) All
of the excavated theatres from the 4th century and into the Hellenistic
period exhibit circular orchestras;188 and (2) A circular orchestra in the
theatre was likely a continuation of the spatial medium of the circular
dithyrambic chorus.

Altar (Thymele)
Each Classical and Hellenistic theatre included an altar, most often called a
thymele.189 Such an altar would not have been out of place in a theatre
precinct considered a sacred space of a god, nor unexpected in a festival
context, and it likely served as the place where the offerings of the festival-
goers were sacrificed.190 The thymele was often located precisely in the
center of the orchestra,191 though if not in the center, in the proximity of
the orchestra and in plain view of the spectators.192 In fact, the thymele
was so closely associated with the orchestra that it came to be used as a
synedoche for the orchestra itself.193
To the extent that it became part of the space inhabited by the dramatic
chorus and actors, the altar often became a part of the drama itself. On the
one hand, as the geographic center of the orchestra it served as the focal
point for choral dances. In the center of the orchestra, the altar had the
potential to become an especially integral part of the dramatic action, inas-

187
For instance, the theatres in Thorikos, Ikarion, Euonymon, and one of the two
theatres at Morgantina. See Wiles, Tragedy in Athens, 23–62.
188
It is especially interesting, perhaps, that theatres in this period were so consistently
designed around a circular orchestra, when architecture in general remained so con-
sistently rectilinear.
189
E.g., Pollux 4.123; Hesychius, Etym. Gud.; Suidas s.v. skene; Alciphron 2.3.
190
Suidas describes a “bema (of Dionysos)” and called it a thymele “on account of the
sacrifices that took place on it.” Suidas, s.v. skene.
191
At Epidauros, Aigai, and Dodona, for example, there have been found stone slabs
in the center of the orchestra with a circular hole widely thought to have received the
altar. Some argue that the slab would have received not an altar per se, but a sacrificial
table, or some sort of other receptacle for offerings. There are similar slabs in Corinth
and Athens. The theatre in Priene has produced the best unambiguous remains of one of
these altars intact and in the place it was originally intended. It was found situated imme-
diately in front of the prohedria, in line with the center of the orchestra. See Wiles,
Tragedy in Athens, 71–72.
192
E.g., Rhamnous, Ikarion, Thorikos, Cefalu on the island of Kos, and Pergamon.
See Clifford Ashby, “Where Was the Altar?,” in Classical Greek Theatre: New Views of
an Old Subject (Iowa City: University of Iowa Press, 1999), 42–61.
193
At some later point, when the skene came to replace the orchestra as the locus of
dramatic movement, it too was called thymele, which retained one of its original mean-
ings as the place where an actor would stand for an address.
188 Chapter 4: The Dramatic Context of Tragic Choruses: Tragedy

much as the orchestra was a locus of most, if not all, of the choral action,
and perhaps the actions of the actors. On the other hand, it may have been
used as a prop when the exigencies of a particular play required an altar.194
In some instances, the altar may have represented something other than an
altar. For instance, it may have been that the orchestral altar was used to
represent the tomb of Darius in the opening of Aeschylus’ Persians, or the
cenotaph in Euripides’ Helen.195 Finally, the altar was perhaps used by the
chorus director or one of the actors for the purpose of addressing the
chorus,196 or as a standing-place for the musician.197

Skene
It is likely that in the Classical period some kind of (wooden) building
stood behind the orchestra opposite the auditorium, to provide a place for
actors to change costumes in-between scenes, and/or to assist in projecting
acoustics to the audience.

Stage
The evidence for a raised stage in the Classical period is as scant as any of
the data for theatre buildings in this period. On one hand is the evidence of
ancient commentators who, though not contemporaneous with the Classi-
cal plays, were consistent in their testimony that some sort of stage was

194
Often the altar was a conspicuous part of the dramatic scenery and action as, for
instance, in Aeschylus’ Suppliants, where the altar serves as the center around which all
of the action of the suppliant maidens takes place. Cf. the opening of Euripides’ Andro-
mache, when Andromache hovers at the altar of Thetis in search of refuge. In many other
instances, the altar figures in the action in a less direct manner as, for instance, when
Dionysos’ command to Euripides to “throw on a pinch of incense” suggests that an altar
lies before them (Aristophanes, Ran. 888). The altar of Dionysos may have served to
represent altars in these scenes. However, some believe that the sanctity of the altar of
Dionysos would have prevented its use in a dramatic performance, and that a stage altar
would have been used instead as a prop in a scene. On the view that the thymele was not
to be used in the drama, see Pickard-Cambridge, Theatre of Dionysus, 131. For a list of
all of the direct and indirect references to altars and altar-scenes in Classical tragedy and
comedy, see Peter Arnott, Greek Scenic Conventions in the Fifth-Century B.C. (Oxford:
Clarendon Press, 1962), 46–51.
195
On the central altar as a stage prop, see Oliver Taplin, Stagecraft of Aeschylus: The
Dramatic Use of Exits and Entrances in Greek Tragedy (London: Clarendon Press, 1977),
117.
196
A fragment of Aeschylus in a scholion on Il. 14.200 suggests that the thymele was
used for this purpose in Classical times, while a scholion on Aristophanes, Eq. 149 speaks
of an actor “getting up as if on a thymele.” See Pickard-Cambridge, Theatre of Dionysus,
132.
197
Arnott, Greek Scenic Conventions, 44.
 4.7 Theatre Buildings 189

part and parcel of the Classical theatre.198 On the other hand is the fact that
there is not one piece of unequivocal archaeological,199 artistic,200 or epi-
graphic evidence from the 5th century to corroborate the claims of the
ancient commentators. Thus, the question of whether or not there was
some sort of stage in the 5th-century theatre is as hotly debated as any in
the field of ancient drama.201
The implications of the existence of a stage in the Classical period are
not simply archaeological in nature. The lack of a stage would suggest that
the actors and chorus performed together in the orchestra. If, however, a
stage was a standard element of the Classical theatre, and the actors per-
formed on it, the chorus and actors would have been performing in different
spaces. Thus, the question of the existence of a dramatic stage is brought to
bear on the issue of the relative importance of the chorus in ancient tra-
gedy.

4.7.2 Theatres in the Fourth Century and Hellenistic Period

Evidence for theatres increases dramatically in light of the fact that the-
atres began to be constructed out of stone in the 4th c. B.C.E.202

Theatron
While there is evidence for both rectilinear and semi-circular auditoriums
in the Classical period, stone auditoriums were consistently larger than

198
A number of scholia on Aristophanes’ comedies, many of which were written
hundreds of years after the composition of the plays themselves, assume a stage. These
scholia fairly consistently claim that the location of the stage was the logeion, the plat-
form on top of the proskenia. See Sifakis, Studies, 129.
199
For a presentation of some physical evidence for structures that may have been
used to support a raised stage, see Arnott, Greek Scenic Conventions, 12–15.
200
There are a number of vase paintings from Southern Italy depicting performances
of comedies on a raised stage supported by wooden posts. Some argue that these vases
depict on a small-scale the kinds of stages that would have been employed for the larger-
scale performances, such as those performed in the Theatre of Dionysos. See Margarete
Bieber, History of the Greek and Roman Theater (Princeton: Princeton University Press,
1939). There also exists an Attic oenochoe from the late 5th century that depicts some
kind of theatrical scene on a “Phlyakes” stage. Arnott, Greek Scenic Conventions, 16–17.
201
Some take the ancient commentators at their word and presume the existence of a
stage in this period. Pickard-Cambridge, Theatre of Dionysus, 71; Arnott, Greek Scenic
Conventions, 6–41. Others speculate that the Hellenistic and Roman commentators, for
whom a stage had become a standard and ubiquitous element of the theatre, had erron-
eously projected the existence of a stage back into the 5th century, and that no such stage
actually existed at that period. Rehm, Greek Tragic Theatre, 34–36; Taplin, Stagecraft of
Aeschylus, 441–442; Wiles, Tragedy in Athens, 63ff.; Ley, Theatricality, 1ff.
202
The theatre of Dionysos in Athens, for instance, was re-constructed with stone
under the authority of Lycurgus in 333 B.C.E.
190 Chapter 4: The Dramatic Context of Tragic Choruses: Tragedy

semi-circular by the 4th century. The vast majority of 4th-century auditor-

ium seats were simple and functional, constructed of wood benches, or
large slabs of stone, and rose up many rows around the orchestra. The size
of auditoriums varied across time and place. The largest extant stone
auditoriums of the Hellenistic and Roman periods, such as those in Athens,
Ephesus, Epidauros, and Megalopolis, likely seated close to 17,000 people.
Auditoriums in the smaller Attic demes, and in Magna Graecia, were
typically 1/8 to 1/4 this size.203

Prohedria
Most Hellenistic auditoriums contained seats in the front row that were
considerably more ornate, wider, and higher than the rest. From the many
inscriptions found on the prohedria themselves, and elsewhere in the
theatres, something may be said about the persons for whom such seats
were typically reserved. For example, in Athens the very first rows were
likely reserved for priests and priestesses,204 dignitaries,205 public bene-
factors, children of fallen soldiers, and judges of the dramatic contests.206
The practice of reserving prohedria for citizens and foreigners of high
repute is attested elsewhere,207 and this process carried social, political,
and dramatic significance.208 Architectural variations of prohedria existed
throughout Greek auditoriums,209 and into the Roman period.
203
The auditorium at Euonymon, for example, which was one of the biggest demes in
Attica, contained 21 rows, and seated perhaps 2,000 spectators.
204
Hesychius, s.v. nemeseis theas.
205
See Aeschines, Fals. leg. 111; Ctes. 76.
206
See Vitruvius, Praef. 5.
207
See Whitehead, The Demes of Attica, 123–124. Cf. Michael Maaß, Die Prohedrie
des Dionysostheaters in Athen (Vestigia 15; München: C. H. Beck, 1972).
208
Members of the audience who sat in the prohedria were seated in a ceremonial
fashion. For example, an inscription on one of the prohedria in Magnesia, dating to the
2 nd c. B.C.E., relates that a certain Apollophanes was “to be invited by the herald” to take
his seat amongst the other benefactors in the theatre, “so that everyone knows that the
people thankfully acknowledge the good and virtuous men and show the gratitude that
benefactors deserve.” Implied in this inscription, and in similar ones, is that the herald’s
public announcement set apart these invited guests from the rest of the spectators, and
that the ritual surrounding their seating in the prohedria was indeed part of the dramatic
show. See Wilson, The Athenian Institution of the Khoregia, 95–102, 136–143; cf.
Angelos Chaniotis, “Theatre Rituals,” in The Greek Theatre and Festivals (ed. Peter
Wilson; Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2007), 60–62.
209
E.g., at Megalopolis the front row had a backrest, but was not divided into individ-
ual seats, while at Epidaurus there were three such rows: one in the front, and two half-
way up the auditorium. In Oropus, five prohedria lie inside the orchestra, each seat a few
yards away from another. In addition to these, see also theatres at Rhamnous, Ikarion,
Euonymon, etc. Wiles, Tragedy in Athens, 25–35; cf. Csapo and Slater, Context of An-
cient Drama, 298–301.
 4.7 Theatre Buildings 191

The most prominent seat in the theatre seems to have been reserved for
the chief priest of the god to whom the theatre was devoted. Owing to the
fact that so many dramatic contests were held in honor of Dionysos, and
that the theatre itself was often considered part of the sacred precinct of
Dionysos, this seat was often reserved for the chief priest of the Dionysian
cult. Most often situated in the very center, and in one of the first few
rows, this seat was larger and placed higher than the rest of the prohedria.
For example, in the Dionysian theatre at Athens, this seat and backrest
were not only made of marble, but were very elaborately decorated and
covered by an awning.210 These central seats are very common features in
Hellenistic theatres.

Orchestra
Orchestras in the Classical period may have taken different shapes, but
from the 4th century onwards they are consistently circular.211

Skene
In the Hellenistic period, the skene became a common feature in Greek the-
atres. In addition to the building itself, whose one or two-story structure212
would have served as a backdrop for the dramatic action and a place for
actors to change costumes, the most prominent feature was the proskenion,
a raised platform extending out from the skene towards the orchestra. One
of the functions of the proskenion was likely to provide a backdrop for the
performance taking place in the orchestra. In it could be inserted inter-
changeable panels depicting various scenes that would serve as back-
ground(s) to the play. Additionally, the top of the proskenion, the logeion,
may have served as a stage for various parts of the drama.

Stage
While the question remains whether or not a stage was part of the Classical
theatre, archaeological, artistic, and literary evidence confirms that in the
Hellenistic period, a raised stage was a standard element of the Greek
210
Pickard-Cambridge, Theatre of Dionysus, 143.
211
The first of these is often thought to be at Epidauros.
212 th
4 century architecture confirms that the skene was often two-storied, while a two-
story skene already in the 5 th century is a reasonable likelihood on the basis of: (1) the
testimony of later writers, who refer to something like a two-story skene; (2) a descrip-
tion of an upper story by the comic poet Plato (Fr. 112 Kassel/Austin); and (3) the likeli-
hood that dramatic elements in several plays would have required a second story, e.g.,
Aristophanes’ Peace, and Sophocles’ Philoctetes and Ajax. See James Turney Allen, The
Greek Theater of the Fifth Century Before Christ (New York: Haskell House, 1966), 59–
62, esp. n. 127.
192 Chapter 4: The Dramatic Context of Tragic Choruses: Tragedy

theatre. It typically rose somewhere between 5 and 12 ft. above the orches-
tra, and was positioned tangent to, or partially intersecting, the orchestra
opposite the Center of the theatron. At least in some theatres, the top of the
proskenion (the logeion) was likely used as the stage,213 while in other
theatres the stage was likely a separate entity.214 The existence of a stage in
the Hellenistic period raises the question of whether the actors would have
only performed on it, or whether they would have ever performed with the
chorus in the orchestra.

4.7.3 Theatres in the Roman Period

Temporary Theatres in Republican Rome
The earliest Greek-style dramatic performances in Rome, which likely
began sometime in the beginning of the 3rd c. B.C.E., took place not in
permanent stone theatres of the Hellenistic type as in Greece, Asia Minor,
and Magna Graecia, but rather in temporary wooden structures. Because
nothing of these impermanent structures remains, we can only surmise
what they may have looked like on the basis of clues offered in Roman
dramas, possible artistic depictions of them, and the observations of com-
mentators.215
The stage-building (Gk. skene – Lat. scaena; frons scaenae) likely con-
sisted of a one or two-story structure216 that served as a simple background
for the dramatic action, and included perhaps some of the adornments of a
Hellenistic skene, such as the trap-door, and a crane used to depict humans
and gods in flight (e.g., the “flying machine” used for the deus ex machi-
na).217 The stage altar likely remained a standard theatrical feature, as it
continued to be featured prominently in dramas.218
A wooden platform extended out from the scaena (Gk. proskene – Lat.
proscaenium), and served either as a support for the stage (Gk. logeion –
Lat. pulpitum), or as a backdrop for the action that took place on the
ground-level.219
213
Several Roman sources speak of the proskenion itself as the stage. E.g., Polybius
30.22 and Fr. 212 Büttner-Wobst; Plautus, Amph. 92; Poen. 17, 57; Truc. 10; Plutarch,
Epicurum 1096b; cf. Demetr. 34; Athenaeus 12.512, 536a; 14.631ff. There are four com-
peting theories as to the function of the proskenion. See Sifakis, Studies, 126.
214
Roy C. Flickinger, The Greek Theater and Its Drama (Chicago: Chicago Univer-
sity Press, 1918), 69 ff.
215
Beacham, The Roman Theatre and Its Audience, 56–85; Sear, Roman Theatres, 54–
57.
216
For evidence that the scaena had two levels, see Peter Arnott, The Ancient Greek
and Roman Theatre (New York: Random House, 1971), 104–105.
217
Arnott, Ancient Greek and Roman Theatre, 105–106.
218
Arnott, Ancient Greek and Roman Theatre, 103.
219
A stage is assumed by Livy and Tacitus. Livy 40.51, 41.27; Tacitus, Ann. 14.20.
 4.7 Theatre Buildings 193

It is unclear whether some or all of the action took place on the stage
(pulpitum), or on the ground in front of it between the pulpitum and the
audience. It may have been the case that the chorus of early Roman
tragedy (if there was, in fact, a chorus) performed on the ground in front of
the proscaenium, apart from the actors who performed upon it, or that the
chorus and actors performed together on the pulpitum.
Spectators likely viewed the action sitting on wooden bleachers220 or on
the ground.221 The temporary nature of the structure made it highly unlikely
that anywhere near the number of people who attended the stone theatres
in Greece or Asia Minor attended Republican Roman theatrical presenta-
tions.
While temporary theatres may have lacked the gravitas and drawing
power of a permanent stone structure, they didn’t necessarily lack the
splendor of one. Pliny the Elder, for instance, emphasized the extravagant
decoration of the temporary theatre erected by M. Aemilius Scaurus in 58
B.C.E., which included a three-story scaena, the first story of which was
made of fine marble, the second story of glass mosaic, and the third story
of gilded plates, replete with bronze statues and marble columns.222 Tacitus
concluded that the high cost of erecting and dismantling such ornate tem-
porary structures every year made a permanent theatre a more economical
option.223
It is unclear exactly what prevented the Romans from constructing
permanent theatres, though Tacitus’ remarks provide some hints. Tacitus
decries the theatre for its propensity to induce lax, degenerate, and effemi-
nate behavior in the populace, even amongst the noblest Romans,224 and
Livy hints that the theatre’s association with the Greeks made the theatre a
potentially seditious place.225 At any rate, temporary theatres were norma-
tive in and around Rome, even after permanent theatres had begun to be
erected at the beginning of the 1st c. B.C.E.

Permanent Theatres
Two types of permanent Roman theatres may be distinguished: those that
were newly built by the Romans, and Hellenistic buildings that were refur-

220
Livy 40.51.
221
Tacitus, Ann. 14.20.
222
Pliny, Nat. 35–36.
223
Tacitus, Ann. 14.21.
224
Tacitus, Ann. 14.20. Compare Tacitus’ objections to those of the Quakers and
Methodists to the building of the Theatre Royal in Bristol in 1764, for fear that it would
“diffuse an habit of idleness, indolence and debauchery throughout this once industrious
city.” Beare, The Roman Stage, 164.
225
Livy 41.27.
194 Chapter 4: The Dramatic Context of Tragic Choruses: Tragedy

bished by the Romans. Of the former type, the first permanent theatre was
completed in 55 B.C.E. by Pompey in Rome,226 and newly built theatres
such as this one spread throughout the Mediterranean as Rome’s influence
expanded. There are examples of the latter type all across the Mediterran-
ean, in those newly conquered territories where Hellenistic-style theatres
had already been built. Although Roman theatres of both types exhibit
many of the same features as Hellenistic theatres, it possible to identify
architectural features that are uniquely Roman.
Newly constructed Roman theatres were self-supporting structures, in
contrast with those of the Hellenistic period, which were built along natur-
ally occurring slopes. The largest elements, the auditorium (Lat. cavea)
and scaena frons, were supported by vault and arch construction typical in
Roman public architecture.

Theatron (Cavea), Orchestra, and Prohedria

As for the refurbished Hellenistic theatres, the Romans did not regularly
alter the entire structure – its location, orientation, size, etc. They did,
however, make substantive changes to constitutive elements of the theatre,
including the orchestra, auditorium, and stage. The general shape of the
Roman auditorium conformed in large part with the standards of the Hel-
lenistic theatres. However, the circumference of the auditorium was often
reduced to a semi-circle.227
As such, the shape of the orchestra in the Roman theatre was likewise
very often constructed (or modified from an existing Hellenistic structure)
to an exact semi-circle.228 In Hellenistic theatres that were modified in the
Roman period, it seems that at least part of the original orchestra was used
regularly for seating.229 Such changes reflect the likelihood that spectators
were no longer oriented towards the orchestra, and the chorus (and perhaps
actors) that performed therein, but rather towards the stage, on account of
the fact that the majority of dramatic activity in Roman drama occurred
there.
As in the Hellenistic period, special seating (prohedria) was reserved
for politicians, priests, and dignitaries. Such seating was often quite ornate,
226
Outside of Rome, and away from the vigilance of those who held such negative
opinions of the theatre, some permanent structures were built prior to this, e.g., Gabii,
Pietrabbondante, Tivoli, and Praeneste. See A. J. Brothers, “Buildings for Entertain-
ment,” in Roman Public Architecture (ed. Ian M. Barton; Exeter: University of Exeter
Press, 1989), 101–102.
227
Sear, Roman Theatres, 7, 9, 68–80.
228
Though there are many examples of modified Hellenistic theatres in the Roman
period that maintained a more-than-semi-circular shape, as in the Hellenistic period.
Sear, Roman Theatres, 24.
229
Sear, Roman Theatres, 5–6.
 4.7 Theatre Buildings 195

including stone or marble back-rests and foot-rests, and set apart from
other seats.230

Scenae frons and Stage (Pulpitum)

Roman stages were both wider, and longer, than the stages in Hellenistic
theatres. Whereas the stage in the Classical and Hellenistic periods was not
wider than the orchestra, the stage in the Roman period was often twice as
long, and much deeper.231 The increased size of the stage in the Roman
period, taken together with the decrease in the size of the orchestra, is a
further indication of the fact that dramatic activity had become centered on
the stage. In fact, the Roman theatrical stage may have in fact accommo-
dated all of the dramatic action, including the performances both of the
actors and the chorus, if there was a chorus at all.
The scenae frons, or the wall that served as the back-drop for the stage,
was very often a very considerable structure that rose higher than the top
of the auditorium, and was decorated with several stories of columns.232
This structure might represent any number of buildings in a drama, and
contained doorways through which actors could enter and exit the stage.

Altar
The altars used for festival sacrifices remained a standard feature in both
types of Roman theatres,233 and were most often located in the orchestra.
There is also more certain evidence that, in addition to the sacrificial altar,
a stage altar was used for dramatic purposes. Pollux likely refers to just
such an altar in his description of an “altar standing on stage in front of the
doors …,”234 which likely referred to an altar that was stationed in front of
one of the three doors leading into the skene.235 The question remains
whether this altar – or any stage altar – was a permanent fixture in the
theatre, or a portable scenic prop that was (re)-positioned as needed.

230
Sear, Roman Theatres, 5.
231
For Roman stages, see Beacham, The Roman Theatre and Its Audience, 154–198;
cf. Sear, Roman Theatres, 7, 33–34.
232
Sear, Roman Theatres, 8, 83–89.
233
Sear, Roman Theatres, 7.
234
Pollux 4.123. See Arnott, Scenic Conventions, 45.
235
This theatrical convention may have represented the altar of Apollo, commonly
found in city streets in front of house-doors, as in fact altars in dramas are commonly
referred as the “altar of Apollo.”
 Chapter 5

Forms and Functions of Tragic Choruses

in the Classical Period

5.1 Introduction

The sheer quantity and diversity of choral activity in Greek tragedy com-
plicates the task of compiling a catalogue of Classical tragic choral forms
and functions, let alone considering developments in the Hellenistic and
Roman periods. Perhaps it is for this reason that there are only a few studies
that venture to examine choral phenomena in antiquity in its entirety.
Investigations into dramatic choral phenomena most typically: (1) single
out a specific choral element, such as the parodos, exodos, or stasimon,
and consider its range of formal and functional characteristics; or (2) con-
centrate on the formal and functional dynamics of a chorus manifest in a
particular playwright, or within a particular drama. My own taxonomy of
tragic choral forms and functions attempts to account for all types of choral
phenomena in ancient tragedy, and has the goal of illuminating general
trajectories across playwrights and plays, and indeed across ancient epochs
as I consider not only the functions of choruses as they appear in Classical
tragedy, but also as they took shape in the Hellenistic and Roman periods.
My goal in the following two chapters is to establish a comprehensive
framework with which the formal and functional characteristics of tragic
choruses can be evaluated across playwrights, plays, and time-periods.
Highlighting many important developments that take place in the forms
and functions of tragic chorus through antiquity, I demonstrate that com-
mon denominators exist between choruses in each of these time-periods,
such that choruses of the 5th c. B.C.E. can be evaluated with choruses in the
1st c. C.E. in similar terms, and considered in terms of larger trajectories
that span the many centuries that separate them.
This chapter considers choruses of the 5th century. Classical tragedians,
Aeschylus, Sophocles, and Euripides, while the following chapter covers
tragic choruses in the 4th century. and into the Hellenistic and Roman
periods. In each chapter, I evaluate formal elements of tragic choruses and
choral lyrics, including: (1) general features of dramatic choruses: their
composition and size, the process of selecting and training a chorus, the
role of the chorus-leader, and the conventional identities of the characters
 5.2 The Forms of Tragic Choruses in the Classical Period 197

represented by the chorus; (2) spatial aspects of dramatic choral perform-

ance, such as the position of the chorus in the theatre vis-à-vis the actors,
the shape of the chorus, and choreographic elements; (3) formal character-
istics of choral lyrics, including dialectical and metrical tendencies, and the
extent to which the contents of dramatic choral odes resemble non-dramatic
choral poetic forms; (4) musical dynamics related to dramatic choral per-
formance, including a consideration of choral singing, and the instruments
that accompanied the chorus; and (5) specific types of choral phenomena,
including the parodos, stasimon, exodos, lyric and non-lyric dialogue with
actors, and non-dialogical utterances.
I then move to more detailed considerations of the functional dynamics
of choral lyrics in tragedy, focusing on relationships of choral lyrics to the
surrounding speeches, dialogue, and action of the actors. Two types of
choral phenomena will be distinguished on the basis of whether the chorus:
(1) advances the dramatic action through interaction with other characters;
or (2) stands outside of the dramatic action in order to cast it in a particular
light. These categories will serve as general lenses through which more
specific functions of the chorus will be examined, including the ways in
which the chorus advances the dramatic plot by providing relevant back-
ground information, introducing characters, foreshadowing dramatic events,
etc., or casts the surrounding dramatic action in a particular mythical-
historical, philosophical, and/or mythological-theological light. Finally,
various theoretical models for considering the nature of the “voice” of the
chorus – its possible function as the mouthpiece of the poet, or the com-
munity, etc. – will be considered, as will significant developments in the
forms and functions of the tragic chorus in the Classical period.
The presentation of material in each chapter reflects the imbalance of
the surviving material. That is, while quite a lot can be said about the
forms and functions of tragic choruses both in the Classical period and in
the plays of Seneca in the Roman period, much less can be said about tragic
choruses in the Hellenistic period, and in the Roman period prior to Seneca.

5.2 The Forms of Tragic Choruses in the Classical Period

5.2.1 The Constitution of the Chorus and Choral Personnel

Composition
Surprisingly little is known for certain about those who participated in
Classical tragic choruses. Unlike non-dramatic choruses, which were known
to have been comprised of persons of a particular age, gender, geographic
and familial association, and social class, there are very few clues that
point to the composition of the choruses of tragedy. The consensus posi-
198 Chapter 5: Form/Functions of Tragic Choruses: Classical Period

tion is that tragic choruses were comprised entirely of adult males, both on
account of the so-called Pronomos Vase, whose depiction of the cast of
characters from a satyr-play and/or tragedy includes only males, and the
fact that those who served as choreutai were exempted from military duties
during the time of their choral appointment, suggesting that the chorus was
comprised of men of the requisite age for military service.1
It is unclear how the dramatic choruses were selected, though inferences
can be made from what is known of the selection of choreutai for non-
dramatic performances. Men were likely chosen from various demes around
Attica by the choregos, who was appointed to assemble and fund the
dramatic choruses. While choreutai were most probably selected according
to their proficiencies in singing and dancing (prizes were given out, after
all, on the basis of the best dramatic performances), choruses appear to
have been comprised of amateur citizens who represented a cross-section
of the Athenian citizenry. 2

Size
Evidence as to the number of actual choreutai who performed in tragedy in
the Classical period is extremely scanty, as poets did not provide stage
directions of any sort, and the size of the actual chorus is never explicitly
revealed throughout the course of any of the plays. As such, judgments as
to the size of tragic choruses must be inferred from clues in the texts, and
from the testimony of later commentators. The number of characters that
were represented by the choreutai may give an indication of how many
choreutai actually performed. For instance, the fifty daughters of Danaus
represented by the chorus in Aeschylus’ Suppliants may indicate that the
size of the actual dramatic chorus was fifty. 3 However, this is the only
tragedy in which the number of the characters being represented by the

1
Wilson, The Institution of the Khoregia, 77; Pickard-Cambridge, Festivals, 77. In the
absence of more specific criteria for identifying the participants of tragic choruses,
Winkler has suggested that the choruses were comprised of male youth in military train-
ing, who would have been educated in the requisite military skills through the partici-
pation in the chorus. See John J. Winkler, “The Ephebes’ Song: Tragôidia and Polis”
Representations 11 (1985): 26–62.
2
Wilson, The Institution of the Khoregia, 78.
3
Pollux says as much in his recounting of the fear that was induced in an Athenian
audience upon seeing a fifty-member chorus during a production of Aeschylus’ Eumeni-
des (Pollux 4.110). A fifty-member chorus is not out of the question given the connection
between early tragedy and the fifty-person dithyramb. Moreover, the size of the orchestra
would not have prohibited a chorus of such a size, and there is no explicit evidence con-
trary to this. For the summary of the argument in favor of a fifty-person chorus, see
Anthony David Fitton Brown, “The Size of the Greek Tragic Chorus,” The Classical
Review 7.1 (1957): 1–4.
 5.2 The Forms of Tragic Choruses in the Classical Period 199

chorus is revealed, and as such the question of the number of choreutai in

other plays must be approached by other methods.
The number of choreutai in Aeschylus’ plays is most commonly taken
to be twelve, chiefly on the basis of a scene in Agamemnon in which
twelve successive iambic couplets are given to the chorus, and which are
likely to have been spoken consecutively by twelve different chorus mem-
bers.4 The testimony of later commentators further suggests that the stan-
dard number of choreutai in Aeschylean drama was twelve.5 It is some-
times thought that Sophocles increased the number of choreutai to fifteen,
but this opinion is supported entirely on the evidence of a single passage in
the Suda.6 Thus, while the size of Classical choruses cannot be known for
certain, it is generally assumed that the choruses of Classical tragedy in-
cluded between 12 and 15 members.7

Training
Once the chorus had been selected, it was likely trained by the playwright
himself, who would have had been involved in developing and directing
the choral choreography, stage directions, music, etc.8 In addition to the
playwright, a professional chorus-trainer (chorodidaskalos), or assistant
chorus-trainer, was employed by the choregos to help to prepare the chorus
for performance. The chorus-trainer was not only responsible for training
the choreutai with respect to specific choreographic, musical, and dramatic
elements of a particular dramatic production, but also for the broader
physical requirements of choral participation, including proper provisions
and physical exercise, and perhaps requiring ascetic practices, which were
though to improve physical and vocal strength.9 In the absence of more
specific information as to the nature of choral training, characterizations of

4
Aeschylus, Ag. 1343–1371.
5
Suda, s.v. Life of Sophocles 4. Two scholia refer to twelve chorus members in
Persians and Seven against Thebes (on Aristophanes, Eq. 586; on Aeschylus, Eum. 585).
Pickard-Cambridge, Dramatic Festivals, 241.
6
At any rate, even those who are suspicious that Sophocles was himself solely respon-
sible for the increase in the number of tragic choreutai support the notion that at some
point the tragic chorus may have increased in size. E.g., Wiles, Greek Theatre Perform-
ance, 134.
7
In this scenario, a 12 and 15 member chorus could have represented a larger number
of characters, e.g., the 50 daughters of Danaus.
8
Walton, Greek Theatre Practice, 34, 66.
9
The Athenian in Plato’s Laws speaks of “… those [chorus members] competing for
victory whose members are forced to sing without food and go lean when training their
voices.” Plato, Leg. 2.665e. Cf. Aristotle, [Prob.] 11.22, 901b. Other ancient sources de-
scribe the lavish lifestyle of choreutai in training. Plutarch, Glor. Ath. 348d–349b. See
Wilson, Institution of the Khoregia, 82–84.
200 Chapter 5: Form/Functions of Tragic Choruses: Classical Period

chorus-training must suffice from which general conclusions may be

drawn. For instance, chorus-training is likened in ancient sources to mili-
tary training,10 and as such may have consisted of “forging good order,
discipline, and the much sought-after ‘grace’ of choral eukosmia.”11 Like-
wise, insofar as choreia constituted an integral part of a comprehensive
education according to Plato, it might thus be considered under the aus-
pices of general education in ancient Athens.

Chorus-Leader
While the chorus was assembled and funded by the choregos, formally
trained by the chorodidaskalos and/or playwright, the chorus was led in
performance by the chorus-leader, or coryphaeus.12 The chorus-leader was
likely the most proficient singer among choral performers, and likely
assumed a prominent position in the choral formation. He not only gave
the signal to start a choral ode, but provided the pitch and rhythm for the
chorus to follow,13 and also likely took part in dramatic dialogue with the
actors from time to time in place of the chorus as a whole. As such, the
success of the chorus seems to have depended at least to some extent on
the proficiency of the chorus-leader.14

The Chorus as Characters

Whatever the composition and size of the actual members that made up the
tragic choruses, in the extant plays they are always portrayed as a homo-
geneous group of individuals in terms of gender, age, vocation, locale, so-
cial standing, and/or familial status (Theban elders, Argive sailors, Captive
slave women, etc.).15 Characters represented by the chorus, in those in-

10
Choreutai in training are likened to sailors under the leadership of a commander:
“The behavior of sailors is a case in point. So long as they have nothing to fear, they are,
I believe, an unruly lot, but when they expect a storm or an attack, they not only carry out
all orders, but watch in silence for the word of command like choristers.” Xenophon,
Mem. 3.5.6. Cf. Athenaeus 14.628e–f.
11
Wilson, Institution of the Khoregia, 82.
12
It is possible that the coryphaeus may have also taken on the role of choregos and/
or chorodidaskolos. See Wiles, Greek Theatre Performance, 135; cf. Rosa Andújar, “The
Chorus in Dialogue: Reading Lyric Exchanges in Greek Tragedy” (Ph.D. diss., Princeton
University, 2011), 26ff.
13
Aristotle, [Prob.] 19.22, 45. Maarit Kaimio, The Chorus of Greek Drama within the
Light of the Person and Number Used (Helsinki: Societas Scientiarum Fennica, 1970), 158.
14
Demosthenes attests to the importance of the chorus-leader for the success of the
chorus as a whole: “You know, of course, that if the leader is withdrawn, the rest of the
chorus is done for …” Demosthenes, Mid. 60.
15
In this way, the composition of the fictive characters of the dramatic chorus re-
sembles the composition of non-dramatic choruses, which were most often comprised of
 5.2 The Forms of Tragic Choruses in the Classical Period 201

stances when the chorus itself did not play the role of the main character,
were nearly always connected to the main character.16 That is, choral
characters often shared some kind of close bond with the protagonist,17 and
likewise shared somehow in his/her plight.18 The relationship between the
chorus and protagonist was more or less direct, with the chorus and protag-
onist often sharing the same age, gender, and/or vocation.19
Importantly, the chorus nearly always occupied a subordinate status vis-
à-vis the protagonist(s).20 For example, the chorus may be comprised of
elders when the protagonist is the leader of the city, 21 maidens of the Queen
and/or female royal heiress,22 or sailors under the command of a military
leader.23 The subordinate position of the chorus is not only reflected in
terms of its social and/or vocational status vis-à-vis the protagonists, but
also in terms of its inability to act in exactly the same way as the protag-
onists, e.g., to make a speech, to come into physical conflict with char-
acters,24 or to suffer the fate of the protagonists, etc. In these ways, the
chorus is often thought to occupy a marginal status relative to the protag-
onists in Greek tragedy.25

members of the same sex, age-group, social status, etc. For lists and analyses of choral
representations according to gender, age, social status, etc., see Foley, “Choral Identity in
Greek Tragedy,” 1–30.
16
The only extant play in which the chorus is typically considered the protagonist is
Aeschylus’ Suppliants.
17
Throughout this chapter, I use the word protagonist not in the technical sense of the
term as it was used in the Classical period to denote the first actor on-stage, and the one
who competed in the acting competition. Rather, I adopt the sense of the term as it is now
most commonly used to connote the most prominent character in a given play.
18
For example, the chorus in Aeschylus’ Seven against Thebes represents young
women who, like the protagonist Antigone, are waiting fearfully inside the walls of
Thebes as the army of Polyneices is approaching. Likewise, the chorus in Euripides’
Helen portrays the fellow captive women with Helen in Egypt.
19
The exceptions to this in the extant plays are Aeschylus, Agamemnon; Sophocles,
Antigone; Euripides, Bacchanals.
20
Donald J. Mastronarde, The Art of Euripides: Dramatic Technique and Social Con-
text (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2010), 89, 98–106.
21
E.g., Aeschylus, Persians; Sophocles, Antigone; Oedipus Rex; Euripides, Madness
of Hercules.
22
Sophocles, Elektra; Euripides, Ion; Medea; Iphigenia at Aulis; Iphigenia at Tauris;
Orestes.
23
E.g., Sophocles, Ajax; Philoctetes. The exceptions to this may be those instances in
which the chorus consists of divine beings, e.g., the Furies in Aeschlyus’ Eumenides, and
the Oceanids in Aeschlyus’ [Prometheus Bound]. While the chorus may not occupy a
clearly subordinate position to the protagonist in these cases, they are clearly subordinate
to the other gods who figure in the drama.
24
See Dale, Collected Papers, 211ff.
25
While this is an apt characterization of many of the choruses in extant Classical
tragedy, it certainly does not apply in the same way across tragedy, or at all in some
202 Chapter 5: Form/Functions of Tragic Choruses: Classical Period

As a final note on the composition of choral characters in Greek tragedy,

the chorus consistently functioned as a collective body over and against the
individual characters in the play. That is, the chorus was always comprised
of a group of characters, and the chorus represented the only group of char-
acters in a given tragedy. To put it yet another way, any group of tragic
characters was, by definition, a chorus. As we will see below, this collec-
tive “voice” of the chorus was essential in helping to create a picture of the
protagonists, to shape dramatic plots, and to convey larger themes of the
play.

Multiple (Secondary) Choruses

There are several instances in Classical tragedy in which a second (and in
one case, perhaps, a third) chorus appears in addition to the standard chorus,
i.e., a secondary chorus.26 For the most part, the formal characteristics of a
secondary chorus can be understood in terms of tragic choruses generally,
i.e., homogeneity in terms of size, gender, age, vocation, locale, social
standing, and/or familial status, close relationship with one of the main
characters, and subordinate status.27 While the formal characteristics of the
secondary chorus approximate those of the primary chorus, the functions
of the secondary chorus are much more limited, and will be considered
below.

5.2.2 Spatial Elements: The Chorus in the Greek Theatre

Position of the Chorus in the Theatre vis-à-vis the Actors
There is considerable debate over the configurations of the chorus and
actors in 5th-century drama, and in particular the relative positions of the
chorus vis-à-vis the non-choral actors. While it is virtually certain that the

cases. Generally speaking, the chorus is much more integral to the action of the earlier
tragedies of Aeschylus than in the later plays of Sophocles and Euripides.
26
E.g., Aeschylus, Eum. 868–887; Supp. 1034–1073; Euripides, Supp. 1113–1164;
Hipp. 58ff.; Phaeth. 227ff. There is reason to suppose that a third chorus appeared in
Aeschylus, Supp. 825–871. In addition to these examples from the extant plays, a scholi-
ast on Hipp. 58 confirms the existence of secondary choruses in two, no longer extant,
Euripidean tragedies, Alexandros and Antiope. The identification of secondary (or ter-
tiary) choruses is not always a simple task. In those instances when a secondary chorus is
not explicitly introduced, it is unclear whether in fact a secondary chorus appears, or
whether the primary chorus has been split into two groups. See Alexander F. Garvie,
Aeschylus’ Supplices: Play and Trilogy (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1969),
193, n. 1; cf. Taplin, Stagecraft of Aeschylus, 216–218, 230–238.
27
The most detailed study of the phenomenon of the secondary chorus in ancient tra-
gedy (of which I am aware) consists of a small section in Taplin, Stagecraft in Aeschylus,
230–238.
 5.2 The Forms of Tragic Choruses in the Classical Period 203

chorus performed at all times in the orchestra, and remained there while
not participating in the dramatic action, it is unclear whether the actors
would have also performed with the chorus in the orchestra, or apart from
the chorus on some sort of raised stage.
The question of whether there existed in the 5th century a separate stage
for the actors is brought to bear not only on the question of the spatial
proximity between the chorus and actors in the theatre, and the extent to
which this proximity would have affected communication between them,
but also on the question of the conceptual relationship between the chorus
and actors. That is, if actors performed together with the chorus in the
orchestra, there can be little doubt that the audience’s attention would
have been wholly and consistently focused in the orchestra, and that to this
extent the conceptual center of tragedy was located there. If, however, the
actors were removed from the orchestra, the question becomes whether the
conceptual center of Greek tragedy would have been located in the orches-
tra with the chorus, or on the stage with the actors. In the absence of con-
crete archaeological data, the evidence of the extant tragedies themselves
offers the only evidence as to the relative importance of the chorus vis-à-
vis the actors, as well as the question of the location of the conceptual
center of Greek tragedy in the Classical period. These issues will be con-
sidered later in this chapter.

Shape of the Chorus

It is an oft-repeated maxim in studies on Classical drama that tragic
choruses (along with satiric and comic choruses for that matter) consistent-
ly formed a rectangular shape, and that in this way they differed from the
circular dithyrambic choruses from which they are thought to have de-
rived.28 The notion of a rectangular tragic chorus depends on several
factors: (1) A fragment attributed to the 5th-century comic poet Cratinus,
which speaks of a “left-stander” in the chorus, thereby suggesting a rect-
angular formation;29 (2) Pollux’ claim that members of the tragic chorus
were positioned in “ranks” and “files”;30 and (3) A perceived etymological
connection between the Greek words for “tragedy” (trag/oidia) and “rect-

28
Lawler, The Dance in Ancient Greece, 82; Pickard-Cambridge, Festivals, 245. For
the ancient sources, see Csapo and Slater, Context of Ancient Drama, 360ff.
29
Hesychius, s.v. aristerostates; Photius, Lexicon, s.v. aristerostates. See Csapo and
Slater, Context of Ancient Drama, 363; Wiles, Tragedy in Athens, 95.
30
The first seems to have been Pollux, who claimed that the chorus entered the orches-
tra during the parodos in a rank-and-file formation: “… κατὰ ζυγὰ … κατὰ στοίχους …”
Pollux 4.108–109.
204 Chapter 5: Form/Functions of Tragic Choruses: Classical Period

angular” (te/trag/onon).31 Others have suspected a rectangular choral for-

mation on the basis of the fact that choral choreography was likened in
antiquity to military formations, which are by and large thought to have
been rectangular.32
While this represents the consensus position, the supreme deficiency of
the etymological connection linking the tragic chorus with a rectangular
formation, the fact that most of the testimony for rectangular formations of
the chorus comes from a very late date, and the realization that not every
military maneuver (and corresponding movement of the chorus) had to be
rectangular,33 has led many scholars to re-assess the notion that dramatic
choruses consistently maintained a rectangular shape. Further, there is
positive evidence for supposing that the chorus at least at times maintained
a circular arrangement, including most simply the fact that several orches-
tras in the 5th century appear to have been circular. The chorus may signal
its circular orientation by words in the choral odes that suggest circu-
larity, 34 a notion deriving from the hypothesis that choreography of non-
dramatic and dramatic choruses mimetically represented the content of the
poetry. In other words, if the chorus in fact mimetically represented the
content of its lyrics, and those lyrics imply circularity, then the chorus may
have taken a circular formation.35 The positive evidence for a circular
chorus is such that several scholars who argue for a predominantly
rectangular chorus readily admit the possibility that the chorus may have

31
Etymologicum Magnum 764: Tragoedia. As Ley points out, “The correlation is
totally spurious, since the word for ‘rectangular’ is a compound of tetra (four) and
gonion (angled), and so the apparent trag element is a purely fortuitous result of the com-
pound.” Ley, Theatricality, 126, n. 28.
32
Aelius Aristides, who considers the similarities between the “leftstander” in the
dramatic chorus to the “right wing” of battle formations. Aelius Aristides, On Behalf of
the Four 154. Cf. Scholion to Aristides, On Behalf of the Four 154. Winkler understands
the tragic chorus to have operated as a kind of miniature military phalanx. See Winkler,
“The Ephebes’ Song,” 57–58.
33
“Various dance formations could be good for military training or for times of peace,
or manly in terms of their disciplined style (Athenaeus 14.628e–f; Plato, Leg. 7.814e–816d)
without being consistently rectangular.” Foley, “Choral Identity in Greek Tragedy,” 9.
34
Aeschylus, Ag. 997; Sophocles, Trach. 129–131; Ant. 117–119; Euripides’ Iph. Taur.
1143ff.; Herc. fur. 687ff. For a brief discussion of these passages, see John F. Davidson,
“The Circle and the Tragic Chorus,” GR 33:1 (Apr., 1986): 41–42; cf. Thomas J. Sienke-
wicz, “Circles, Confusion, and the Chorus of Agamemnon,” Eranos 78 (1980): 133–142.
35
Likewise, if the chorus’ choreography mimetically represented the action taking
place by the actors, then circular choral formations may be suggested even in those scenes
that do not directly mention or necessarily involve the chorus, such as the (circular)
military maneuvers in Aeschylus’ Persians, the crowds encircling Teucer in Sophocles,
Aj. 723–724, Heracles in Sophocles, Trach. 194–195, and Philoctetes in Sophocles, Phil.
356–357. By contrast, the chorus never alludes to their rectangular formation. Marcel
Lech, “Marching Choruses? Choral Performance in Athens,” GRBS 49.3 (2009): 346.
 5.2 The Forms of Tragic Choruses in the Classical Period 205

taken a circular shape as demanded by certain dramatic circumstances.36 It

is thought that the center of the orchestra would have served as the center
point of any such circular choral formation.37 Thus, in those theatres in
which an altar was located in the center of the orchestra, the altar would
have formed the geographic center of the choral formation, and the focal
point of the dramatic choral action.

Choreography
The texts of extant dramas offer the clearest evidence that dancing was an
integral part of choral performance in Classical tragedy and comedy. Ref-
erences are sometimes explicitly made by the chorus to their own dancing,
including processional dances, dancing women, wedding dances (epithala-
mia), ecstatic Dionysian dances, etc. Kernodle rightly asks what could
have been the purpose of such a large orchestra if not for action and
movement on the part of the chorus.38
Ancient commentators often testified to the importance of dancing in
drama.39 And so it is thought by most modern commentators that dance
accompanied most, if not all, choral activity in Classical drama, from the
chorus’ entrance into the orchestra to begin the play (parodos), through
the choral odes and interactions with the actors,40 to the chorus’ exit which
concluded the play (exodos).41 As we shall see, it may have been that the
chorus danced even when it was not singing lines or participating in the
dramatic action, as a choreographic accompaniment to the actors.

36
Ley, Theatricality, 126ff.; Davidson, “The Circle and the Tragic Chorus,” 41–45;
Lech, “Marching Choruses?,” 343–361; Foley, “Choral Identity in Greek Tragedy,” 9;
Walton, Greek Theatre Practice, 176ff.; Webster, The Greek Chorus, 112.
37
E.g., Pickard-Cambridge, Theatre of Dionysus, 131–132; Arnott, Greek Scenic Con-
ventions, 44.
38
George R. Kernodle, “Symbolic Action in the Greek Choral Odes?,” CJ 53.1
(1957): 1.
39
The early tragic playwright Phrynichos testifies: “Dance furnishes me with as many
figures as ruinous night makes waves on the sea in a tempest.” Plutarch, Quaest. conv.
8.732ff. Athenaeus attests to choral dancing in Classical drama by assigning to the early
dramatic poets the role of choral choreographer. He claimed that Aeschylus “devised
many dance figures himself and assigned them to the dancers in his choruses …” More-
over, “The early poets, Thespis, Pratinas, Kratinos, Phrynichos, were called dancers be-
cause they not only realized their dramas through the dancing of the chorus but also,
apart from their own poems, trained people who wished to learn to dance.” Athenaeus
1.21e–22a. Mullen, Choreia, 20.
40
It was long ago argued on etymological grounds that the choral ode, or stasimon,
consisted of a stationary chorus. For rejection of the theory that stasimon meant “song
without dance,” see Dale, Collected Papers, 34–40.
41
I am not aware of a single scholar who has argued against the proposition that the
chorus danced in some form or fashion in Classical drama.
206 Chapter 5: Form/Functions of Tragic Choruses: Classical Period

Attempts to re-create the choral choreography of Classical drama are

stifled by the same kinds of problems intrinsic to the study of choreogra-
phy of non-dramatic choruses: choreographic notations simply do not exist
in any of the extant manuscripts, commentators provide little in the way of
specific information as to the nature of dramatic choral dance, and depic-
tions of choral dance have a limited value in reconstructing choreographic
movements.42
The nature of dramatic choral choreography might be extrapolated from
what is known of the non-dramatic choral dances that gave rise to tragedy.
For instance, insofar as Classical tragedy is thought to have derived from
the dithyramb, which was widely associated with the god Dionysos, tragic
choreography may have exhibited elements of the “disorder, tumult, and
revel” that characterized early Dionysiac worship.43
More likely, the choreography accompanying dramatic choral poetry
was related to the patterns inherent in the metrical systems,44 and to the
moods that may have been conveyed and/or created by particular meters.45

42
Depictions of choral dance in artistic remains may provide clues as to specific
dance postures, but these postures offer glimpses of a snap-shot in time, not the totality
of choreographic movement(s). In other words, artistic remains allow for taxonomies of
various dance postures (foot positions, hand positions, etc.), but these cannot be assimi-
lated in such a way as to reconstruct movement. What’s more, it is extremely difficult to
associate artistic depictions with specific dramatic productions, much less with particular
scenes within a drama. Those who work most closely with the visual evidence are the
first to acknowledge the limitations inherent in reconstructing actual choreography. E.g.,
Webster, The Greek Chorus, xi; Lillian B. Lawler, The Dance of the Ancient Greek
Theatre (London: A. & C. Black, 1964), 85; cf. Ley, Theatricality, 150ff.
43
Likewise, the choreography of comic choruses may have included elements com-
mon to phallic/fertility processions, drinking-processions (komoi), animal dances, and
masked revilers dancing from house to house, which are thought to have been the fore-
runners to Classical comedy. Lawler, The Dance in Ancient Greece, 74–86.
44
In this vein, the fact that many of the choral odes in tragedy exhibit strophic
responsion may be a clue to choral movements in these sections. Insofar as the words
used to denote the stanzas in lyric poetry, i.e., strophe and antistrophe, denote turning
and counter-turning, respectively, it is reasonable to conclude that the strophe-anti-
strophe in dramatic poetry signaled some kind of turn and counter-turn. Yet, it is difficult
to determine what this would have meant in specific terms, especially in those cases
when the chorus was not arranged in a circular formation. Several have suggested that the
movements of the chorus during the strophe would have been somehow repeated in
reverse during the antistrophe.
45
For example, lyric dactyls, which may have engendered a hieratic mood, may have
conjured similarly hieratic dance postures, while the Ionic meter with its “Oriental” con-
notations may have included appropriately “Oriental” movements. An oft-cited example
of this line of thinking with respect to dramatic choral poetry concerns anapaests, which
consisted of two short syllables followed by one long syllable, and are thought to convey
the sense of marching, as they are thought to have been accompanied by marching
choruses. Insofar as anapaests occur regularly in the parodos, when the chorus first
 5.2 The Forms of Tragic Choruses in the Classical Period 207

It seems natural that the rhythms inherent in the words of the chorus
should align with the cadence of the chorus’ movement(s).46 As noted
earlier, the fact that the “foot” came to denote the basic unit of a metrical
system most likely owes to the intrinsic relationship between the rhythms
of the metrical systems and the corresponding dances.
It may also have been the case that choreography was determined by,
and inherently related to, the content of the choral odes sung by the chorus.
The notion that the words of the choral odes provide clues as to the chorus’
movements is suggested by Athenaeus’ remark that “poets from the very
beginning … used the movements only to illustrate the words that were
sung” (Athenaeus 14.628d),47 and by the likelihood that choral movements
were generally mimetic in nature. For instance, the physical entrance of the
chorus was likely determined by dramatic exigencies of the play. Elsewhere
in the drama, the chorus may have performed “symbolic equivalents” of
deeds which theatrical convention did not allow to be performed outright,
e.g., deaths, murders, battles, etc.48 In the absence of much in the way of
choreographic clues implicit in the words of the choral odes, we are left to
speculate as to how the chorus might have moved accordingly.49

entered the orchestra, and during the exodos when the chorus exited the orchestra, it is
thought that the chorus would have been marching at these points in the performance.
A. M. Dale offered her analysis of the moods conveyed by various meters in a com-
prehensive study of the meters of Greek tragedy, which have subsequently been taken as
programmatic. Amy Marjorie Dale, The Lyric Metres of Greek Drama (Cambridge:
Cambridge University Press, 1948).
46
“It was the words which lent the dances of tragedy their rhythm. There was no
percussion, only the stamp of feet on the earth. The piper was not supposed to change the
rhythm embedded in the words, but only to enhance the words through his melody. The
job of the dramatist, at least in the earlier part of the period, was to compose the dances
at the same time as the words. The metres in which the choruses were written presup-
posed specific dance steps. Greek metre was based upon the precise length of time taken
to utter syllable … and this feature of the language allowed the two rhythms of word and
movement to be precisely aligned.” Wiles, Greek Theatre Performance, 138–139.
47
Landels echoes a fairly common sentiment on this issue: “… given the Greek view
that the dramatist’s medium was a blend of music, words, and rhythmos (i.e., bodily
movement), it is surely safe to assume that the dancing of the choros was representational
(or mimetic, to use Aristotle’s special term), miming the events of the story, and express-
ing the emotions of the singers in what is now called body-language.” Landels, Music in
Ancient Greece and Rome, 14.
48
For instance, in Euripides’ Hippolytus, when Phaedra rushes inside to hang herself
(and out of the sight of the audience, who were unaccustomed to see such horrific acts
acted-out in the theatre), the chorus sings of the details of the rope being tied around her
neck, and her body swinging from the rafters. Euripides, Hipp. 765–775. Kernodle,
“Symbolic Action,” 2.
49
E.g., Wiles looks to those images that appear in both the strophe and antistrophe to
determine what was likely to have been represented mimetically. Wiles, Tragedy in
Athens, 97ff.
208 Chapter 5: Form/Functions of Tragic Choruses: Classical Period

To this point, I have considered the movements of the chorus while the
chorus was performing. One of the more vexing questions, however, con-
cerns the activity of the chorus while the actors were speaking. That the
chorus appears to have remained in the orchestra throughout the play,
including during the episodia, appears likely on account of the fact that the
chorus would have been called upon to interact with the protagonist(s)
within dramatic episodes, as in lyric dialogue between the actors and
chorus. But the question remains what the chorus did do – or did not do –
while it was not participating in the dramatic action.
On one hand are those who believe that the chorus did not provide any
kind of choreographic accompaniment while they were not singing any
lines, but sat or stood quietly and out of the sight of the audience.50 Still
others imagine that the chorus performed a choreographic accompaniment
while the actors were performing.51 The popular notion that non-dramatic
choruses functioned essentially as mimetic entities lends credence to the
notion that dramatic choruses might have mimed the words and actions of
the actors, or danced in such a way as to represent them symbolically.52
Again, in the absence of explicit or implicit information as to the chorus’
activity during episodia, we are left only to speculate as to their move-
ments, or lack thereof.

50
E.g., “Between their songs the chorus will have stood (or knelt or sat) as still and
inconspicuous as possible: their role was to dance and sing, not to be a naturalistic stage
crowd.” Oliver Taplin, Greek Tragedy in Action (London: Methuen, 1978), 12–13.
51
Lawler, The Dance of the Ancient Greek Theatre, 28; Walton, Greek Theatre Prac-
tice, 54–56; Harold C. Baldry, The Greek Tragic Theatre (London: Chatto & Windus,
1971), 64–67; Kernodle, “Symbolic Action,” 1–7.
52
Two very late scholia on Aristophanes suggest that the chorus did just this. In
Aristophanes’ Clouds, the chorus inquires as to the origin of the dispute between the Just
and Unjust causes. The chorus sings: “But from where the dispute first arose, you must
speak to (the) chorus.” Aristophanes, Nub. 1351–1352. The lack of a definite article in
the second clause is explained by the scholiast to refer to a formulaic expression (i.e., “to
speak to chorus”). A scholiast on this passage remarks, “They used the term ‘to speak a
chorus’ when, while the actor was reciting, the chorus was dancing the speech.” Like-
wise, in Aristophanes’ Frogs, alongside a passage in which Aeschylus and Euripides are
before Dionysos in Hades, the chorus sings, “We are anxious to hear from you two wise
men what harmony (emmeleia) of words you embark upon …” Aristophanes, Ran. 895–
897. Here a scholiast notes that the meaning of emmeleia, which most commonly meant
the dancing in tragedy that accompanied the choral ode, is taken by some to mean “the
accompanying dance to the speeches.” See Walton, Greek Theatre Practice, 54–55.
 5.2 The Forms of Tragic Choruses in the Classical Period 209

5.2.3 Types of Choral Lyrics

Method
It remains to consider some of the specific and regularly occurring types of
choral lyrics in Greek tragedy. Two categories of tragic choral lyrics are
typically distinguished, those which: (1) occur outside of/in-between scenes,
and (2) occur during scenes. In order to appreciate this distinction, it is
necessary first to consider briefly what constituted a scene (episodion), and
how scenes were distinguished from one another in Greek tragedy. 53 The
beginning of a scene is typically identified by the entrance of an actor (or
actors) onto a stage (or orchestra) previously unoccupied by any other
actors, while the end of a scene is marked by the exit of the actor(s) from
the stage.54 Beginnings and ends of scenes are further marked, most often,
by choral odes (stasima), which occur in-between them. That is, the end of a
scene (i.e., the exit of the actor[s] from the stage) coincides with the begin-
ning of a choral ode (stasimon), while the beginning of the next scene (i.e.,
the entrance of the actor[s] back onto the stage) coincides with the end of
the choral ode. Thus, the “formal structure of Greek tragedy is founded on
a basic pattern: enter actor(s) – actors’ dialogue – exeunt actor(s) – choral
song/enter new actor(s) – actors’ dialogue … and so on.”55 To this basic
pattern is added: (1) the prologos, or introductory speeches and/or dialogue
of the actors; (2) the parodos, or the entrance of the chorus into the the-
atre;56 and (3) the exodos, or exit of the chorus from the theatre. Thus, it is
possible to distinguish those elements that are primarily the domain of the
actors, that is, the prologos and the episodia, from those which are
primarily the domain of the chorus, the parodos, stasima, and exodos.
Such a distinction is only tentative, for as we will see, actors regularly
participate in the choral elements, and vice versa. For instance, one or
more actors regularly participated in-between scenes by means of a lyric
dialogue with the chorus. Likewise, the chorus regularly interacted with
actors during scenes, by means of various forms of lyric and non-lyric
53
The first theoretical discussion of the structural elements of tragedy was offered by
Aristotle, and subsequent ancient and modern discussions of the topic have consistently
relied on the basic structural categories he employed. Even the most stringent modern
critiques of Aristotle’s analyses consist primarily of refinements or modifications of his
basic categories. Aristotle, Poet. 1452b17–27.
54
These parameters were first offered by Oliver Taplin, whose conclusions have, as
far as I can tell, received universal acceptance. For a summary of his analysis of the
structure of Greek tragedy, see Taplin, Stagecraft of Aeschylus, 51ff.
55
Taplin, Stagecraft of Aeschylus, 55. Variations to this basic pattern occur throughout
Classical tragedy, the most common being the tendency for one actor (and less often,
more than one actor) to remain on the stage with the chorus in-between scenes.
56
In a couple of extant Aeschylean tragedies, the prologos does not appear, and is
replaced by the choral parodos, which constitutes the very first dramatic element.
210 Chapter 5: Form/Functions of Tragic Choruses: Classical Period

dialogue, and non-dialogic utterances. That is, the chorus participates both:
(1) outside of/in-between scenes, in the parodos, stasima, and exodos, and
in lyric dialogue between the chorus and one or more actors that occurs in-
between scenes; and (2) during scenes, including: (a) lyric and non-lyric
dialogue; and (b) non-dialogic utterances.57
My goal in this section is to elucidate the most important formal char-
acteristics of each of these types of choral phenomena, to consider some of
the functions of the chorus as they relate specifically to their structural
position within the drama, and to evaluate developments in choral func-
tionality throughout the Classical period. A more detailed discussion of the
content of choral utterances, and considerations of the functions of choral
utterances as they relate to the surrounding speeches, dialogue, and action
of the actors, will be taken up later in the chapter.

The Chorus in-between Scenes

Choral activity that occurs outside of, or in-between, scenes most often
took the form of an exclusively choral ode, and less often, the form of a
dialogue with one or more actors. Choral lyrics in-between scenes con-
sisted either of the parodos, the initial entrance of the chorus into the or-
chestra, a stasimon, the choral song sung in-between scenes, or the exodos,
the exit of the chorus from the orchestra. While each of these types of
choral lyric in-between scenes exhibits many formal similarities, because

57
My presentation of the chorus’ contribution in structural terms follows past studies
that recognize the distinction between choral activity in-between scenes and choral phe-
nomena during scenes. Given the sheer quantity and variety of choral activity in Greek
drama, such a distinction has a definite heuristic value, but brings with it methodological
flaws which need to be acknowledged. The root methodological flaw to this approach is
that the chorus’ roles within the episodes are often considered in different terms than its
roles in-between episodes, such that similarities and/or overlap between choral functions
in these different structural positions are neglected. For instance, such a distinction often
minimizes the dramatic value of choral action in-between scenes, with the premise that
the action of Greek drama took place amongst actors during the scenes, while the choral
odes and the chorus do not contribute to the dramatic action per se, but only relates to it,
reflects upon it, comments upon it, etc. On the contrary, there are many ways in which
the chorus’ activities in-between scenes contribute to the immediate dramatic action (e.g.,
providing background information, introducing characters, foreshadowing future events,
etc.), and an evaluation of these functions is essential to an understanding of the chorus’
role in-between scenes. Just as often, the roles of the chorus within scenes are often con-
sidered in ways that effectively neglect the ways in which the chorus reflects upon, and
provides a context for understanding the dramatic action during scenes. Thus, while I rec-
ognize the conventional distinction typically made between the chorus’ activity in-between
scenes, and the chorus’ participation within scenes, it is necessary to foreground the
methodological obstacles which arise from considering this distinction in absolute terms.
 5.2 The Forms of Tragic Choruses in the Classical Period 211

of the distinctive functional characteristics of each they are typically con-

sidered independently of one another.

Parodos
The parodos refers to the initial procession of the chorus into the orches-
tra, while it can also refer to the choral ode that was sung during this pro-
cession, as well as the passageway by which the chorus made its entrance
into the theatre.58 In some of Aeschylus’ extant plays, the choral parodos
constituted the very first dramatic element in the play, although the entrance
of the chorus elsewhere in Aeschylus and in the rest of Classical tragedy
(and comedy) normally followed the prologue, or introductory speech of
the protagonist, and/or dialogue between characters.59 Even though the
parodos rarely represented the very first element in Greek drama, and
sometimes came only after several hundred lines had already been spoken
by the actors, it is thought to have constituted the formal beginning of the
play. 60 This is suggested by the fact that everything that preceded the
arrival of the chorus into the orchestra was considered prologos,61 a view
which perhaps owes to the origins of drama in choral performance and
notions that drama was in its essence a choral art form.
The entrance of the chorus in Greek tragedy was typically cast in terms
of a response to a dramatic event in the play, e.g., in response to the sum-
mons of the protagonist,62 in pursuit of a transgressor,63 or in a spontan-
eous act of sympathy for the protagonist.64 This dramatic exigency pro-
vided an opportunity for the chorus to identify itself, the protagonists, its
relationship to the protagonists, and its intentions.65
Later in the chapter, I will demonstrate how the chorus could act in the
parodos on one hand as a dramatic instrument to provide pieces of infor-
mation critical to the development of the plot, e.g., by providing back-
stories on the protagonist(s), a synopsis of the past events that have led to

58
Each Greek theatre included two parodoi on either side of the skene, which led to
the orchestra from off-stage. These passageways were also referred to as eisodoi.
59
That the chorus begins the play in this way in Aeschylus may reflect an early stage
in the development of the chorus in Greek drama, wherein the chorus played a more
prominent role than is evident elsewhere in subsequent Greek tragedy and comedy.
60
Peter Arnott, Public and Performance in the Greek Theatre (New York: Routledge,
1991), 25.
61
Prologos was the term given by Aristotle for all that precedes the entrance of the
chorus. Aristotle, Poet. 1452b19.
62
Sophocles, Oedipus Rex; Antigone; Euripides, Heraclidae; Trojan Women; Iphigenia
at Tauris; Helen; Bacchanals; Aristophanes, Clouds; Peace; Birds; The Rich Man.
63
Aeschylus, Eum. 244ff.; Sophocles, Oed. Col. 117ff.; Aristophanes, Ach. 280ff.
64
Euripides, Andromache; Hecuba; Electra; Madness of Hercules; Orestes.
65
See Mastronarde, The Art of Euripides, 127–129.
212 Chapter 5: Form/Functions of Tragic Choruses: Classical Period

the current circumstances, etc., and on the other hand as a medium for
reflecting upon the surrounding speeches and dialogue of the protagonists,
and for casting the speeches and dialogue in a particular historical-
mythical, philosophical, or mythological-theological light.

Stasimon
A stasimon is typically identified as the choral song performed in-between
episodia in Greek tragedy and comedy. 66 While choral stasima consistently
exhibited lyric dimensions (lyric metrical systems, strophic responsion,
etc.), specific forms of the stasima varied even within a single play, and
much more so across playwrights throughout the Classical period. That is,
the lengths of the stasima, the number of strophic pairs, etc., varied sub-
stantially from Aeschylus to Euripides.
One of the primary functions of choral stasima appears to have been to
demarcate episodes.67 Aristotle suggested as much in his definition of epi-
sodion, which he identified as that which occurred in-between choral odes.
Choral songs in-between scenes are often thought to have provided an op-
portunity for the actors to catch their breath, change costumes, etc. While
choral stasima consistently serve as act-dividers, episodes can also be de-
marcated (especially in later drama) by lyric dialogue that may or may not
have included the chorus at all. In other words, all choral stasima in-between
scenes divide episodes, but not all episodes are divided by choral stasima.

66
Aristotle defined stasimon as a “song of the chorus without anapaests or trochees.”
His definition thus appears to distinguish the choral stasimon from the parodos and exodos,
each of which frequently exhibited anapaests and trochees. However, the lack of specificity
in Aristotle’s definition has presented a number of problems. For instance, insofar as choral
songs without anapaests or trochees appear during scenes, it appears at first glance that
stasima could include all instances of choral song, whether it occurred in-between or during
scenes. However, scholars typically assume that Aristotle must have intended to exclude
choral songs within episodia in his definition, on account of the fact that he speaks else-
where of “choral songs” as those odes that demarcate episodia. A related issue concerns
whether or not choral songs with another actor (i.e., “lyric dialogue”) occurring in-between
scenes are properly considered stasima. Most scholars speak of lyric dialogues in-between
scenes as taking the place of a choral stasimon, rather than including them under the gen-
eral rubric of stasima. For a fuller discussion, see Taplin, Stagecraft of Aeschylus, 470–476.
67
Claiming that choral stasima functioned primarily to divide episodes clearly sub-
ordinates them to the dramatic action within the episodes, and often implicitly or
explicitly renders them unimportant dramatically. While it is inaccurate to say that choral
activity in-between scenes is always critical to the dramatic action – on the contrary,
many choral odes in-between scenes, especially those of Euripides and into the Hel-
lenistic period(s), appear to become much less dramatically relevant – at once discount-
ing the dramatic importance of all choral odes by considering them primarily in terms of
their role as act-dividers neglects the many cases, and the many ways, in which they are
critical to an understanding and appreciation of the play.
 5.2 The Forms of Tragic Choruses in the Classical Period 213

Choral activity in-between episodes contributed much more dynamically

to Greek tragedy, however, than to demarcate episodes, or to provide filler
material while the actors changed costumes.68 On one hand, the lyric
rhythms, song, and dance of the chorus in-between scenes constituted a
unique aesthetic element in drama,69 and a poetic form distinctive from the
poetry of the actors within scenes in terms of dialect, metrical tendencies,
musical accompaniment, and its collective presentation. That is, choral odes
in the stasima served as a structural contrast to the spoken word of the
actor(s) during scenes,70 whose contrasting and complementary elements
together created the “essential rhythm” of dramatic performance.71

Exodos
The exodos consisted of the final exit of the chorus from the orchestra (by
way of the parodoi through which the chorus entered the theatre), as well

68
Choral songs in-between scenes are often considered to have been the most essential,
and most impressive, contribution of the chorus to Greek drama. Their importance may
be gauged in quantitative terms, insofar the lines given to the chorus in-between scenes
make up the largest percentage of the total number of lines given to the chorus in any
given Classical tragedy, and in qualitative terms, insofar as they are often critical to the
progression of the plots, and in conveying larger thematic interests in the play. As such,
they tend to receive the majority of critical attention from commentators, often to the
neglect of other choral contributions in drama. Such tendencies are lamented by those
who recognize the value of the choruses within the scenes. See, for example, Andújar,
“The Chorus in Dialogue.”
69
The aesthetic qualities and entertainment value of choral lyric were recognized by
ancient commentators and scholiasts, who measured the intrinsic values of lyric in such
terms. Aristotle, Poet. 1450b16, 1462a16; cf. a scholion on Sophocles, Aj. 693; Pol.
8.1339b20, 1340b16.
70
“[The Chorus] performs this basic task primarily by contrast. The metrical texture
(and also its musical and choreographical accompaniment) contrasts with the predomi-
nant texture of the verbal text within the acts, and along with this change of texture there
is a corresponding change of dialect colouring and poetical vocabulary; in both respects,
therefore, act-dividing lyric advertises itself as an obviously different kind of poetry …
Act-dividing lyric is therefore set apart from what is contained within the acts, and
because of this contrast it is capable of marking the structural break clearly.” Heath,
Poetics, 138. However, the contrast between chorus and actors is not always so rigid. In
fact, actors can take on lyric roles, most often when participating in lyric dialogue with
the chorus, but also independent of the chorus, especially in later tragedy. At the same
time, the chorus may take on non-lyric roles, while participating in iambic dialogue with
another character or characters.
71
Rush Rehm, “Performing the Chorus: Choral Action, Interaction, and Absence in
Euripides,” Arion 4.1 (Spring 1996): 45. Cf. Hugh Parry: “… as it establishes its inner
rhythms the ode works in counterpoint to the dialogue, pitting dance against slow march,
poetry against argument, words and images of passion against words and images of
exposition …” Hugh Parry, The Lyric Poems of Greek Tragedy (Toronto: Samuel Stevens,
1978), 75.
214 Chapter 5: Form/Functions of Tragic Choruses: Classical Period

as the choral song that accompanied it. Most often in Classical tragedy, the
lyrics of the choral exodos constituted the very last lines of the play, which
signals its most obvious function as a formal conclusion to the drama.72
The exodos not only served (most often) as the structural culmination of
the drama,73 but often consisted of a thematic conclusion to the play. For
instance, the exodos in Aeschylus’ Persians (which does not take the form
of an exclusively choral ode, but rather a lyric dialogue between the chorus
of Persian elders and Xerxes) consists of a final lament over the fact that
the Persian army was destroyed by the Greeks,74 the exposition of which
constituted the focus of the tragedy. The exodos in Sophocles’ Antigone
concludes (likewise in the form of a lyric dialogue between the chorus and
King Creon) with the admonitions of the chorus that it is unwise to be im-
pious towards the gods, and that the “great words of boasters” are always
punished (1348–1352). Such sentiments serve as a fitting conclusion to a
tragedy in which the protagonists, Antigone and Creon, each meet ruinous
ends on account of impiety and boasting.
As these examples demonstrate, the chorus’ final words in the exodos
could be immediately related to specific themes in the play. However, the
final choral odes were sometimes thematically so vague that they could be
readily applicable to virtually any play. For example, several of Sophocles’
tragedies end with very brief choral utterances that are only very tenuously
related to the surrounding dramatic circumstances, as in Philoctetes when
the Greek sailors remark, “Let us depart all together, with a prayer to the
sea nymphs that they may come to bring us safely home” (Sophocles, Phil.
1469–1471), or in Oedipus at Colonus, when the chorus of elders beckons
Antigone and Theseus, “Come, cease your lament and do not arouse it
more! For in all ways these things stand fast” (Sophocles, Oed. Col. 1777–
1779). In this vein, several of Euripides’ plays end with a more or less
identical formulation: “The dispositions of the gods take many forms; the
gods bring many things to fulfillment unexpectedly. What was expected
has not been fulfilled, but god found a way for the unexpected. Such is the
outcome of this affair.”75
The choral odes of the exodos exhibited a range of forms throughout the
Classical period. The choral exodos could be quite long, as in several of
Aeschylus’ extant tragedies which, like the choral odes elsewhere in his

72
The fact that a choral ode regularly concluded a Greek tragedy further testifies to
the fact that tragedy was considered to have been essentially a choral performance.
73
Not every Classical tragedy concluded with a choral song, but the exodos was most
often one of the final dramatic elements.
74
Aeschylus, Pers. 931–1079.
75
Euripides, Alc. 1159–1163; Andr. 1284–1288; Hel. 168–192; Bacch. 1388–1392.
See Mastronarde, The Art of Euripides, 105–106. Cf. Deborah H. Roberts, “Parting
Words: Final Lines in Sophocles and Euripides,” CQ 37 (1987): 51–64.
 5.2 The Forms of Tragic Choruses in the Classical Period 215

tragedies, were often several dozen lines in length, and which exhibit
multi-strophic responsion. At the other end of the spectrum are extremely
short exodoi, as in Euripidean tragedy, which were most often astrophic
and only a few lines long.

The Chorus within Scenes

Insofar as choral odes that appear in-between the scenes of Greek tragedy
comprised the majority of all choral lyrics, they are often considered to have
constituted the most significant contribution of the chorus to the drama,
and/or the element of drama in which the chorus most fully expressed its
choral identity. A negative consequence of such focused attention on choral
stasima is that choral phenomena within scenes are often minimized or
neglected altogether.76 However, such phenomena are neither infrequent
nor inconsequential in Classical Greek tragedy. Two categories of choral
phenomena within scenes are typically identified in Greek tragedy:
(1) Lyric or non-lyric dialogue with protagonist(s); and (2) Non-dialogic
choral utterances.

Lyric Dialogue
Lyric dialogue between chorus and actor(s) constitutes the most frequent
choral contribution within scenes.77 Two types of lyric dialogue may be
distinguished on formal grounds, the first consisting of wholly lyric dia-
logue in which the lines of both the actor(s) and chorus were sung, and the
second consisting of choral lyric stanzas interspersed with, or followed by,
spoken dialogue of an actor. In either case, the combined lines of the
chorus and actors most often constitute strophic metrical patterns, which
further reflect the lyric nature of the dialogue.78

76
While choral participation within scenes is often tacitly neglected in scholarly treat-
ments, Garvie openly declares its insignificance: “The least important of its [the chorus’]
functions is to be a character in the drama.” Garvie, Aeschylus’ Supplices, 109. The rela-
tive neglect of the chorus within scenes is lamented by Rosa Andújar, who has recently
completed a dissertation on this very topic in her dissertation, “The Chorus in Dialogue.”
77
Both types are identified on metrical grounds, according to whether the lines of
both the chorus and actor(s) appear in lyric meters (including anapaests) or in mixed
meters (i.e., a lyric meter in the case of the chorus, and an iambic meter in the case of the
actors). The latter form, which occurs more frequently than the former, is typically
referred to as epirrhematic dialogue on account of the fact that the spoken words of the
actor were thought to have been “additions” to an essentially lyric structure. Lyric dia-
logue also occurs between choruses, and between two or more actors, though with much
less frequency than lyric dialogue between the chorus and actor(s). For a classification of
these types of lyric dialogue, see Andújar, “The Chorus in Dialogue,” 18ff.
78
Given the apparent origins of Classical tragedy and comedy in the interaction(s)
between chorus-leader and chorus in Archaic and pre-Classical choral poetry, it seems
216 Chapter 5: Form/Functions of Tragic Choruses: Classical Period

Lyric dialogues as they appear in extant Classical tragedies vary so con-

siderably that very little can be said of consistent formal features and struc-
ture.79 At the same time, lyric dialogues so consistently occur at similar
dramatic points throughout tragedy, i.e., at emotionally charged moments
of dramatic turbulence, that something can be said of their functional
characteristics.80 The regular appearance of lyric dialogues at emotionally
charged moments in the play betray their most immediate function, to con-
vey in lyric form the most dramatically intense scenes. A lyric exchange
might be expected at such points on the basis of the fact that the metrical
and strophic dynamics of lyric forms provide opportunities for the ex-
pressions of a wider variety of emotions than is available in ordinary iam-
bic speech. Lyric dialogue provides an opportunity for the protagonist(s) to
express in the most emotionally charged lyric form their experience of, or
their reactions to, pivotal events in the play.
Although lyric dialogue often takes place within scenes, these dialogues
can (especially in the later plays) take the place of the parodos, stasima,
and exodos. In so doing, they take on the structural functions of these
otherwise wholly choral elements in-between scenes. In those instances
that lyric dialogues serve as the choral parodos,81 they mark the formal
beginning of the drama, and insofar as lyric dialogues can take the place of
choral stasima, they function structurally to distinguish episodia. Likewise,
a lyric dialogue may constitute the formal ending to a drama in the place of
the otherwise wholly choral exodos.82

Non-Lyric Dialogue
Much less frequently, dialogue takes place between an actor and the chorus
in which the lines given to both appear in an iambic meter, and thus are
most likely to have been spoken. In contrast to the lyric exchanges be-
tween chorus and actor(s), which occur consistently in Greek tragedy at
points of dramatic and emotional intensity, and whose content most often

reasonable that tragic lyric dialogue of this sort – whether wholly or partially (mixed)
lyric – constitutes a remnant of the earliest tragic forms.
79
“Though they comprise the most regular point of contact between actor and chorus,
these lyric dialogues – which henceforth I refer to as ‘conversational’ – contain no stan-
dard format.” Andújar, “The Chorus in Dialogue,” 34–35.
80
“… lyric exchanges, which blend choral and solo voices in song at critical junctures
in the plot, tend either to dramatize reactions to horrific revelations or to reenact ritual
laments for the dead …” Andújar, “The Chorus in Dialogue,” 7.
81
As they do in Sophocles, El. 121–250; Phil. 135–218; Oed. Col. 117–253; Euripi-
des, Med. 131–212; Heracl. 73–117; Ion 219–236; Tro. 153–196; El. 167–212; Iph. Taur.
123–235; Hel. 164–251; Orest. 140–207.
82
Cf. the lyric exchange between semi-choruses in Aeschylus, Sept. 1054–1075;
Supp. 1018–1073.
 5.2 The Forms of Tragic Choruses in the Classical Period 217

reflects this intensity, spoken dialogue between chorus and protagonist(s)

is mundane by comparison. In these instances, the chorus functions to pro-
vide some piece of information relevant to the immediate circumstances of
the play, e.g., the introduction of a new character, or as a conversation
partner for one of the protagonist(s). On account of the relatively meager
number of such occurrences, and the seemingly mundane use of the chorus
in these instances, few acknowledge much dramatic value in the iambic
dialogue of the chorus.83

Non-Lyric, Non-Dialogical, Choral Elements

Often in Greek tragedy the chorus offers cursory comments in-between the
speeches and dialogue of the protagonists within episodes. Such choral
remarks often consist of a response to surrounding dramatic events by
means of very brief expressions of joy, lament, triumph, or resignation,
affirmation or reproach, appropriate to the attending circumstance. So, for
example, in Euripides’ Helen, after Helen’s sorrowful circumstances alone
in a foreign land have been revealed,84 the chorus remarks “Your lot is
painful, I admit. But it is best, you know, to bear life’s harsh necessities as
lightly as you can” (Euripides, Hel. 252–253).85 Likewise, in Sophocles’
Antigone, after a short speech by Antigone defending her unlawful burial
of her brother, the chorus proclaims, “It is clear! The nature of the girl is

83
“In general, the dramatic value of the iambic lines of the chorus in the episodes is
slight: they call attention to newly arrived persons and offer rather conventional and un-
exciting comments on most of the long speeches. Perhaps … these comments are often
no more than opportunities for the audience to applaud the speeches without missing any
important remarks. Occasionally, however, there is an appreciable dramatic value in their
small comments …” Gordon M. Kirkwood, “The Dramatic Role of the Chorus in Sopho-
cles,” Phoenix 8.1 (1954): 3–4; cf. Gilbert Norwood, Greek Tragedy (London: Methuen,
1948), 79–80; Andújar, “The Chorus in Dialogue,” 33, n. 77.
84
In Euripides’ version, we learn that the “real” Helen was not taken to Troy by Paris,
but conveyed to Egypt by Hermes, while a doppelgänger was substituted for her and
taken to Troy in her stead. Thus, at the beginning of the play, Helen laments the fact that
she finds herself alone in Egypt, and the fact that her name is besmirched on account of
the events that have transpired between Paris and her doppelgänger.
85
It should be noted that choral utterances of this kind are less likely to occur when
the chorus plays an otherwise significant role in the play. Generally speaking, in the
plays of Aeschylus, where the chorus functions more often and more prominently than in
the plays of Sophocles and Euripides, the chorus offers fewer of these brief comments
within scenes. Correspondingly, when in later drama the dramatic action takes place more
often between non-choral characters, the chorus is relegated more often to a role in-
between the speeches and dialogue of the characters.
218 Chapter 5: Form/Functions of Tragic Choruses: Classical Period

savage, like her father’s, and she does not know how to bend before her
troubles” (Sophocles, Ant. 471–472).86
As evidenced by these examples, non-dialogical choral responses within
scenes often take the form of brief gnomic utterances, which are (more or
less) related to the surrounding dramatic circumstances. For instance, in
Euripides’ Helen, after Helen has revealed herself as the “true” Helen, and
recounted to Menelaus the circumstances that have led to her current pre-
dicament, the chorus remarks, “If you get good fortune in the future, it will
be sufficient solace for all that is past” (Euripides, Hel. 698–699). Like-
wise, in Euripides’ Phoenician Women, after Jocasta has been reunited
with her son Polyneices, and sings an ode expressing joy at their reunion,
the chorus observes that, “childbirth and its labor pangs have a surprising
effect on women, and all womankind are somehow drawn to their child-
ren” (Euripides, Phoen. 355–356).
While such choral contributions come in response to surrounding dra-
matic events, and are most often related in some way to them, the chorus’
remarks tend not to elicit responses from the protagonist(s), and seem not
to affect the course of action in an appreciable way. In other words, the
chorus’ participation in this regard, although occurring within the scene,
could be characterized most often as taking place outside of the action.87
While the chorus may not be as integrally related to the surrounding action
in this sense, such sympathetic responses and gnomic utterances reflect the
chorus’ capacity to reflect on the surrounding action, and/or to cast the sur-
rounding dramatic action in a particular light, about which more will be
said later in this chapter.
Such choral remarks may function structurally within the scene. That is,
insofar as they appear in-between the speech and dialogue of the protag-
onists, these brief choral responses appear to serve as a transition point
within a scene, much in the way that choral odes in-between scenes function
to demarcate entire episodes. In such instances, the lyrics of the chorus also
function as they do elsewhere in drama, as an aesthetic contrast to, and a
transition in-between, the spoken words of the actors.88
To conclude the forgoing discussion of the basic structural contributions
of the chorus in Classical Greek tragedy, a couple of additional remarks are
required. First, while each of these choral components is found regularly in

86
Sometimes these responses are characterized as brief paeans, hymns, dirges, etc.,
apparently more so because they appear to recall these forms than on the basis of formal
similarities between these utterances and non-dramatic choral forms. George M. A.
Grube, The Drama of Euripides (London: Methuen, 1941), 105.
87
There are cases when the protagonist(s) will acknowledge the chorus’ brief remarks,
but these are few and far between. In any event, such occurences could never be con-
sidered essential to the plot.
88
Rehm, “Performing the Chorus,” 45.
 5.2 The Forms of Tragic Choruses in the Classical Period 219

the extant tragedies of the Classical period, they can function within a
particular tragedy in quite different ways, depending on the tendencies of
the playwright, particular dramatic exigencies, and so on. The purpose of
the preceding discussion was to introduce the reader to the most basic
choral contributions in Greek tragedy, while more specific functions of the
chorus as they relate to the surrounding dramatic action will be taken up in
the next section.
A second concluding remark concerns the role of the coryphaeus, or
chorus-leader. It is widely supposed that only the chorus-leader, and not the
chorus as a whole, participated in lyric and non-lyric dialogue(s) with the
actor(s), and in the non-dialogical utterances within scenes. While there is
no evidence in the manuscript tradition to support this hypothesis, nor any
corroborating testimony from antiquity, the notion is supported largely on
the basis of anecdotal observations that it is easier to understand one person
than a number of people,89 that “groups of persons do not normally converse
as a whole with individuals,”90 and that it would have been easier to train
one person than an entire chorus for the role of conversation partner.91
Some scholars/editors are so certain of the role of the coryphaeus in this
regard that they go so far as to assign such lines exclusively to the chorus-
leader. In the end, however, it is unclear whether it was the chorus-leader
or the chorus as a whole that participated in dialogue with the actor(s).
Finally, the types of remarks of the secondary chorus must be con-
sidered. In each tragedy in which a secondary chorus does play a role, the
chorus only appears once. However, precise types of choral lyrics sung by
the secondary chorus differ somewhat across tragedians. In the tragedies of
Aeschylus, the secondary chorus appears exclusively outside of, or in-
between scenes, to sing the lyrics of a stasimon,92 or the exodos.93 In two
cases in Aeschylus, the secondary chorus participates in lyric dialogue with
one of the protagonists, and in each instance during emotionally charged
moments, according to the convention of lyric dialogue.94 By contrast, in
89
“We understand hearing a single voice better than many voices speaking the same
things at the same time, just as with the strings of a musical instrument.” Aristotle, [Aud.]
801b15–17.
90
Cynthia P. Gardiner, The Sophoclean Chorus: A Study of Character and Function
(Iowa City: University of Iowa Press, 1987), 8. While arguing that the responsibility for
iambic dialogue was most likely given to the chorus-leader, Gardiner leaves open the
question of whether wholly lyric dialogues would have been sung by the chorus-leader or
the chorus as a whole.
91
Kaimio, The Chorus of Greek Drama, 158.
92
Aeschylus, Supp. 825–871, 1034–1073.
93
Aeschylus, Eum. 868–887.
94
Aeschylus, Supp. 825–871, 1034–1073. In the case of the Suppliants, the primary
chorus of Danaid women plays the role of the main character, and thus, the lyric dialogue
occurs between the secondary and primary choruses.
220 Chapter 5: Form/Functions of Tragic Choruses: Classical Period

Euripides the secondary chorus appears only during scenes, and in three
entirely different capacities. In two instances, the chorus participates in
lyric dialogue with one of the protagonists,95 (only one of which conveys
the details of an emotionally intense scene),96 and in another instance alone
to sing a very brief hymenaios in response to the marriage of Clymene and
Myrops.97

5.2.4 Formal Properties of Choral Lyrics

Meter
The essential dynamics of choral metrics (and non-choral dramatic metrics
for that matter) throughout the Classical, Hellenistic, and Roman periods,
can be understood in terms of the metrical principles of non-dramatic
poetry as they are described in Chapter 3.98 However, dramatic choruses in
each of these periods exhibit distinctive metrical properties. Perhaps the
most distinctive metrical property of Greek dramas in the Classical period
is the fact that they employed so many different metrical systems within a
single play.99 In contrast to non-dramatic poetry, whose metrical forms were
uniform throughout, consisting of either spoken or lyric metrical forms,
dramatic poetry combined spoken and lyric forms.100 Moreover, dramatic
poets often combined varieties of spoken systems together (e.g., trimeters
alongside tetrameters; iambics alongside trochaics; etc.), as well as differ-
ent lyric systems within a single strophe, to produce very complex stichic
and strophic metrical patterns.101 Choral lyrics most often exhibited (some-
times very) complex strophic responsion in the form of non-repeating
strophic pairs (AA//BB//CC), although more complex strophic patterns
than this were possible, as were astrophic odes.102

95
Euripides, Supp. 1113–1164; Hipp. 58–113.
96
Euripides, Supp. 1113–1164.
97
Euripides, Phaethon 229–243.
98
The change from metrical systems based on the quantitative values assigned to each
syllable to inflective systems based on stress-accents did not occur until the 4th c. C.E.
Maas, Greek Metre, 11–12.
99
West, Greek Metre, 77; Maas, Greek Metre, 10.
100
On this point, Rehm quotes Herington’s well-known evaluation of the innovation
of tragic lyrics: “The innovation of tragic lyric did not lie in discovering new meters, but
in ‘its fusion of the known metrical genres within the compass of a single work.’” Rehm,
“Performing the Chorus,” 47.
101
“The lyric of tragedy … usually combines the units of various meters in such a
manner that they lose their original identity and make for a larger organic whole, a whole
which can no longer easily be associated with this or that particular meter.” Halporn et
al., The Meters of Greek and Latin Poetry, 46.
102
West, Greek Metre, 78–79.
 5.2 The Forms of Tragic Choruses in the Classical Period 221

Dialect
Choral lyrics of tragedy regularly exhibit tendencies of the Doric dialect,
the most conspicuous of which is the long ā (the “Doric alpha”) in place of
the long ē as it appears regularly in the Attic dialect. Such tendencies are
not unexpected given the longstanding Doric associations of non-dramatic
choruses, and lyric poetry in general. Given these associations, which were
explicitly acknowledged by Aristotle,103 and which can be traced back to
non-dramatic choral poetry in the Archaic period, at least some in the
Athenian audience in the 5th century would have likely been familiar with
such choral dialectic tendencies.104 The non-Attic dialect of the chorus
would have likely sounded distinctive in contrast to the consistently Attic
dialect of the actors. The distinctive voice of the chorus would not only
have provided an aesthetic contrast to the voice of the actors, but may have
cast the chorus in a distinctively foreign light.105

Non-Tragic Lyric Elements

Given the extent to which dramatic choruses resembled pre- and non-
dramatic Greek choruses in terms of composition, size, dialect, meter, etc.,
it should come as no surprise that many choral songs in drama bear formal
similarities with non-dramatic lyric genres, e.g., paeans, dithyrambs, epi-
nician odes, laments, etc. Particular lyric genres can sometimes be identi-
fied in dramatic choral lyrics on the basis of the appearance of formal
elements unique to a particular genre. So, for instance, dramatic choral
odes may include the invocation of a particular deity (e.g., “Io, Io, Paean!”
or “Hymen, Hymen!”), which signals a formal similarity with a particular
genre. Moreover, odes could be framed in such a way as to signal the fact
that it represented a particular lyric genre, as for example in Seven against
Thebes, when Eteocles asks the chorus of Theban maidens to “utter a
paean …,” suggesting that the following song of the chorus is rightly
considered a paean (Aeschylus, Sept. 268ff.). Finally, through allusive

103
Aristotle, Poet. 1448a.
104
Moreover, the Attic dialect of the actors alongside the (occasional) Doric tenden-
cies of the chorus may reflect an historical reality in which non-dramatic choruses pre-
dominant in Doric lands were transformed in Attica with the addition of actors. That is,
the Attic dialect of the actors may reflect the fact that the actors themselves were particu-
larly Attic contributions to tragedy. John Gould, Myth, Ritual, Memory, and Exchange
(Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2001), 382, n. 13.
105
“… the song of the chorus is expressed in a language yet further removed, in its
non-Attic dialectical colouring … from the ‘speech of the city’ given to the actors who
play the heroic protagonists: it is, for its Athenian audience, an alien and strangely
‘distant’ tongue, which could indeed be called the speech of the ‘other.’” Gould, Myth,
Ritual, Memory, and Exchange, 382.
222 Chapter 5: Form/Functions of Tragic Choruses: Classical Period

descriptions of its own activities, the chorus may signal that they were
singing a particular choral genre.
Choral odes do not always exhibit generic characteristics so clearly as
to be able to identify them precisely in terms of one of the non-dramatic
lyric genres. On one hand, insufficient data for several of the non-dramatic
choral genres often precludes comparisons of the formal features of a
choral ode in terms of non-dramatic precedents. On the other hand, choral
odes oftentimes appear to combine various elements of different choral
genres, preventing the simple identification of a choral ode exclusively in
terms of one choral genre or another.
Hymnic forms are included in these non-dramatic lyric forms found in
the choral lyrics of ancient tragedy. Especially common in tragic choral
lyrics are elements of the paean. Even when choral lyrics do not reflect
specific hymnic forms, they often manifest elements of hymns in the
broader sense of the term, i.e., as sung praise of a deity, which may include
an invocation of a god or goddess, a listing of their divine attributes and
exploits, and sometimes a prayer or petition. Both specific forms of hymns,
and hymns broadly construed, are so common and pronounced in dramatic
choral lyrics that one modern commentator has characterized dramatic choral
lyrics as “essentially hymnal … [or] modifications of hymnal form[s].”106
In terms of the structural dynamics of ancient tragedy, hymnic lyrics
can appear at virtually any point in a play, i.e., in-between scenes during
the parodos, stasima, and/or exodos, and at various points during scenes. It
should be noted that while hymnic lyrics do occur during scenes, they are
never presented in forms that most commonly appear during scenes, i.e.,
dialogue (lyric or non-lyric), or non-dialogical, non-lyric, utterances.107 In
other words, hymns do not take some other form when they appear in
tragedy, but are recognizable in terms of the formal charcteristics of the
hymnic genre outside of tragedy. 108 At any rate, choral hymns most often
occur in-between scenes, most often as one part of a larger stasimon. How-
ever, frequently a stasimon was comprised entirely by a hymn.109 While
106
Parry, Lyric Poems of Greek Tragedy, 50.
107
In other words, hymns are always lyric to the extent that they are presented
according to lyric metrical systems. Thus, according to what is believed to be true of the
performance of lyric metrical systems, hymns were likely to have been sung to the
accompaniment of a musical instrument. Aside from their lyrical properties, hymns were
never presented as a dialogue between characters. In fact, in only two instances in
Classical tragedy are hymns sung by more than one character, in Aeschylus, Supp. 1018–
1073, and Euripides, Orest. 174–186. While lines of the hymn are sung in an alternating
fashion by more than one character, they are not dialogical in nature.
108
Very rarely, a hymn might constitute one part of a lyric dialogue, e.g., Euripides,
Iph. Taur. 126–142.
109
E.g., Aeschylus, Supp. 524–599, 625–709, 1018–1073; Eum. 1032–1047 (exodos);
Sophocles, Oed. tyr. 151–215; Ant. 1115–1152; Oed. Col. 1556–1578; Euripides, Alc.
 5.2 The Forms of Tragic Choruses in the Classical Period 223

hymns might be sung by non-choral characters, hymns were sung much

more often than not by the chorus, a phenomenon which perhaps owes to
the origins of various hymnic forms in pre-tragic choral forms, and the
continued association of these hymnic forms with choruses. While hymns
of both the specific and general sort can be found throughout Classical
Greek tragedy, there is a conspicuous increase in the number of hymns per-
formed by choruses in Euripidean tragedies.

5.2.5 Musical Dynamics

In Chapter 3, it was noted that although music is universally acknowledged
to have constituted an essential part of choral poetry, it is extremely diffi-
cult to reconstruct choral music on account of the lack of evidence of
musical notation contemporaneous with the choral poets, and a general
lack of understanding of the theoretical building-blocks of music in ancient
Greece. Thus, the same difficulties that arise during the reconstruction of
choral music in general attend any discussion of the musical elements of
the chorus in Greek drama.110

Singing
It is generally accepted that tragic choruses most often sang the lines given
to them, on account of the fact that most of the lines given to the chorus
exhibit lyric metrical systems. By contrast, lines given to the chorus in non-
lyric metrical systems (often iambic or trochaic trimeters or tetrameters)
were likely spoken by the chorus or the coryphaeus. Insofar the majority of
the lyric lines in Classical drama were given to the chorus, choral singing
(and the instrumental performance that likely accompanied it) provided
most of the musicality in ancient Greek drama.
While it is nearly certain that the chorus (and at times individual actors)
did in fact sing certain parts, it is unclear how these would have sounded,
e.g., whether the chorus sang in unison or in harmony,111 whether the sing-
ing was simple or complicated, etc.112 Owing to the fact that tragic choreu-

568–606; Hipp. 525–563, 1268–1281; Bacch. 519–573; Herc. fur. 348–435; Heracl. 748–
783; Iph. Taur. 1234–1282; Hel. 1301–1368.
110
“… there is no subject on which it is more difficult – if not virtually impossible –
to reach a clear understanding, not to speak of appreciation, than that of the music to
which the words [of drama] were set and the character of the instrumental accompani-
ment.” Pickard-Cambridge, Festivals, 262.
111
There is simply no evidence for polyphonic or harmonic singing or music in the
Classical period.
112
The parody of Euripides in Aristophanes’ Frogs suggests perhaps that only in the
time of Euripides did dramatists begin to compose lyrics in which a single syllable
extended over multiple notes.
224 Chapter 5: Form/Functions of Tragic Choruses: Classical Period

tai were amateurs, and the fact that singing was most often, if not always,
accompanied by dancing, it is hard to imagine that the level of vocal
difficulty would have been very high.

Instruments
The importance of musical instruments in comedy and tragedy is con-
firmed by visual evidence, the remarks of later commentators, and the
witnesses of the texts themselves. So, for example, the so-called Pronomos
vase,113 on which is depicted the full assembly of characters of a Greek
satyr-play, sits the aulos-player, “Pronomos,” flanked by the chorus-trainer
holding a lyre. That the aulos and/or lyre may have been used in tragedy is
suggested by the fact that the very same actors who performed in a satyr-
play also performed in tragedy. Thus, the instruments depicted on the vase
may also have been those used in tragedy.
That a tragic chorus would have been accompanied by an aulos can be
inferred on the basis of the fact that it is known to have accompanied non-
dramatic choruses, and were particularly associated with the forerunner of
the tragic chorus, the dithyramb.114 At any rate, artistic remains suggest that
the aulos was an essential element in the accompaniment of the chorus in
both Greek tragedy and comedy,115 as do clues from the plays themselves.116

113
Oliver Taplin and Rosie Wyles, eds., The Pronomos Vase and Its Context (Oxford:
Oxford University Press, 2010).
114
There exist numerous artistic remains depicting groups of men dressed as animals,
i.e., animal choruses. In these depictions there is always an aulos-player. Insofar as such
animal choruses are thought by many to have preceded the animal choruses in Classical
comedy (e.g., Aristophanes’ Frogs and Birds), the presence of an aulos-player in non-
dramatic animal choruses suggests a presence in Classical comedy.
115
Auloi are depicted on many of the nearly 100 vases depicting scenes from comedy,
and between 300 and 450 vases depicting tragic scenes have survived. See Oliver Taplin,
Pots & Plays: Interactions between Tragedy and Greek Vase-Painting of the Fourth-
Century B.C. (Los Angeles: Getty Publications, 2007); Wiles, Tragedy in Athens, 91.
116
Both Sophocles and Euripides include choral scenes in which there are references
made to the aulos, and other instruments. For instance, the chorus of women in Sopho-
cles’ Trachiniae sing that they “will not reject the cry of the aulos” and then address the
aulos directly: “Behold me!” (Sophocles, Trach. 205ff.) Likewise, when the chorus of
Dionysian worshippers in Euripides’ Bacchanals describes the revelry that attends the
worship of Dionysos, they speak of the “pipe,” which refers to the material used to create
the aulos and served as a metonym for the aulos itself, as “sounding a sacred, playful
tune” (64ff.). It is reasonable to assume in these cases, and others in which instruments
are mentioned, that the chorus is performing to the accompaniment of the instruments de-
scribed in the scene. Comic poets were more explicit about the use of the aulos in comic
performance. At one point in Aristophanes’ Birds, the chorus asks an aulos-player to
“lead us into the anapaests.” Aristophanes, Av. 682–684. Likewise, the marginal note of a
scholiast in line 223 of the same play confirms an aulos accompaniment, by noting that at
this point in the play “someone plays the aulos from behind the scene.” Finally, a scholi-
 5.3 The Functions of Tragic Choruses in the Classical Period 225

While the aulos was most likely the most frequent accompaniment to the
singing in Greek drama,117 artistic and literary evidence suggests that other
instruments, including the lyre, as well as percussion instruments, may
have been used from time to time.118 The knowledge that the chorus sang
most, if not all, of its lines in any given tragedy or comedy, and that this
singing was often, if not always, accompanied by musical instruments, is
tempered by the fact that we don’t have a good idea of the actual sounds
produced by either instrument.

5.3 The Functions of Tragic Choruses in the Classical Period

with Respect to the Surrounding Speech and Dialogue
of the Characters

5.3.1 Method
In previous sections, I have considered various aspects of tragic choruses,
formal characteristics of choral lyrics, as well as some of the functional
qualities of choral phenomena as they relate specifically to the structural
framework of Greek tragedy. In the following, I consider relationships be-
tween choral activity and the surrounding speech and dialogue of the actors.
On one hand, the chorus is considered in terms of the extent to which it
serves as an instrument to advance the dramatic action, by: (1) signaling
the arrival of characters; (2) offering a synopsis of the current dramatic
circumstances of the protagonist(s) and/or the plotlines, including perhaps
background information relevant to these circumstances; (3) foreshadow-
ing future dramatic events; and (4) interacting with the protagonist(s) in
such a way as to advance the plot. On the other hand, the role of the chorus
is considered in terms of the ways in which it responds to, and reflects

ast on Aristophanes’ Wasps 582 remarks that the aulos-player led the chorus into the
orchestra to begin the play (parodos).
117
Some believe the aulos was the only instrument that ever accompanied the singing.
For example: “With rare exceptions, if any, performances of tragedy, comedy and satyr-
play had no accompaniment except what one aulete provided.” Anderson, Music and
Musicians, 113.
118
The scant evidence seems to suggest that these were used most often as props, and
not as regular accompaniments. For example, lyres are occasionally mentioned in Aristo-
phanes’ comedies, as are drums in Euripides’ Bacchae. In such instances, it seems likely
that such instruments could have been played during these scenes, but in this manner they
would have functioned as a prop, and not as a true accompaniment. It is not thought that
a lyre could carry a sound in theatres as big as those in Athens. Likewise, the harp and
lyre are mentioned in two fragments of Sophocles’ Thamyris. Again, the use of an actual
lyre or harp is not out of the question, but they would have likely been used only as props
during these brief scenes. See Anderson, Music and Musicians, 114–115.
226 Chapter 5: Form/Functions of Tragic Choruses: Classical Period

upon, the surrounding dramatic action, and casts the surrounding action in
a particular light by: (1) offering an emotional response to a dramatic event;
and (2) setting the event(s) into a larger historical-mythical, philosophical,
and/or mythological-theological contexts.
Related to my analyses of the chorus’ relationship to the surrounding
dramatic action of the actors, and to the larger themes addressed in the
plays as a whole, I evaluate well-known and oft-cited theoretical models
for considering the chorus’ capacity to cast the surrounding dramatic action
in a particular light, including notions of the chorus as: (1) “Ideal Specta-
tor”; (2) voice of the poet; (3) voice of the community; and (4) “Implied
Spectator.”

5.3.2 Chorus as “Protagonist”119

Insofar as most dramas in the Western tradition, including the vast major-
ity of extant dramas from the Classical period, feature a chorus in a clearly
subsidiary role to the actors, it may come as a surprise that the chorus
should play the role of protagonist in one of the earliest extant Greek plays.
But this is precisely the role of the chorus of fifty virgin daughters of
Danaus in Aeschylus’ Suppliants, which, viewed from just about any
angle, constitutes the chief vehicle for the dramatic action. The centrality
of the chorus can be established in quantitative terms, insofar as the num-
ber of lines spoken by the chorus constitutes over 60% of the total number
of lines in the play. 120 The chorus’ function as the protagonist can also be
established by other measures. The flight of the chorus of Danaid virgins
from their homeland provides the initial dramatic setting for the play, and
their plight seeking asylum in new land is the fulcrum of the drama for its
duration. The chorus constantly speaks and acts on its own behalf, and the
words and actions of the chorus provide the exigency for all dialogue
throughout the play. The centrality of the chorus is put into relief when con-
sidered in the context of the actions of the other characters. Dialogue rarely
occurs in the play that does not include the chorus, the very fact of which
highlights the auxiliary status of the actors vis-à-vis the chorus, and the
unequivocal importance of the chorus at each stage of the plot-sequence.121
119
Again, I am using the term here not in the Classical technical sense as the first actor
who carried the primary parts, and competed in the acting contests, but in the modern
sense of the character whose role in the play is the most prominent.
120
For a statistical breakdown of the number of lines spoken by choruses in Aeschy-
lus, Sophocles, and Euripides, see Aristides E. Phoutrides, “The Chorus of Euripides,”
HSCP 27 (1916): 77–107.
121
Meanwhile, the actors, whose words, thoughts, and emotions are bound to the
plight of the chorus, are accorded a subsidiary status in relation to the chorus, whose for-
tunes are, first and foremost the subject of the play. Dale, “The Chorus in the Action of
Greek Tragedy,” 17; cf. Garvie, Aeschylus’ Supplices, 106.
 5.3 The Functions of Tragic Choruses in the Classical Period 227

In other words, the chorus of Danaids in Suppliants plays the role of

protagonist, which in every other Greek play is a part played by a non-
choral character,122 and in this way it is unique among extant Greek plays.
This is not to diminish the importance of the chorus within the plots of
many other plays, either in which it functions as one of the lead characters,
as in Aeschylus’ Eumenides and Euripides’ Suppliants, or as an otherwise
indispensable element of the dramatic production as it is in many of the
tragedies in the Classical period. Nevertheless, the dramatic movement of
Suppliants is entirely oriented around the chorus of maidens, and in this
way stands alone in the history of (extant) Greek drama.123

122
While the chorus plays the role of protagonist in this play, it is not the case that it
functioned as did non-choral protagonists (in this play or elsewhere in tragedy). For one,
the chorus does not give speeches in a manner typical of individual characters. The chorus
may contend, threaten, and/or attempt to persuade other characters, but not in the form of
an extended speech. “For it is an unbroken law, all through the history of Greek tragedy,
that though a Chorus may join in the dialogue to a limited extent it must never make a set
speech, a ‘rhesis,’ never marshal arguments, try to prove or refute a contention, or speak
a descriptive set piece. The whole province of what Aristotle calls ‘dianoia,’ the art of
developing at length all that can appropriately be said on a given subject, is closed to the
chorus.” Dale, “The Chorus in the Action of Greek Tragedy,” 211. Moreover, the chorus
functions somewhat more passively here than do protagonists elsewhere in tragedy. That
is, the chorus is unable in many ways to influence events in the play, and the fate of the
chorus lies ultimately in the hands of the non-choral characters. These observations can
be applied to the chorus in its role as a character elsewhere in tragedy. That is, the chorus,
whether it is the protagonist, one of the leading characters, or a subsidiary character,
functions differently than non-choral characters insofar as it cannot make speeches, and
cannot influence the course of events as can non-choral characters. Such a view, how-
ever, ought not to be overstated. The chorus indeed acts in other tragedies, albeit in dif-
ferent ways than do the non-choral characters.
123
That the chorus should have functioned at some point in the history of Greek
drama as a protagonist makes sense in light of the history of drama so far as it can be re-
constructed, as an organic development out of choral poetry, at the particular point when
the chorus-leader began to take on a rôle vis-à-vis the choral performers, which eventually
developed into complex interplays between chorus and actor(s) such that exist in drama
in the 5 th century. In short, insofar as Classical drama was in its beginnings an essentially
and primarily a choral phenomenon, it makes sense that the chorus should play the
central rôle in one of the plays of Aeschylus, the playwright whose extant plays offer the
earliest evidence of dramatic poetry. In fact, in light of this trajectory, the preeminence of
the chorus in Aeschylus’ Suppliants was at one point the primary basis for considering it
the earliest of Aeschylus’ plays, and as such the earliest extant Greek drama. A papyrus
fragment discovered at Oxyrhynchus in 1952 seems to indicate that Suppliants was not,
in fact, the first play. Nevertheless, it stands near to the beginning of the development of
drama from a primarily choral performance to one that became dominated by individual
actors. At any rate, it appears to represent what was likely an early form of drama. It is
impossible to know for sure whether there existed other plays in which the chorus func-
tioned as the protagonist, and scholars are divided in their opinions as to the likelihood
that there were other such plays. See Garvie, Aeschylus’ Supplices, 1–28, 88ff.
228 Chapter 5: Form/Functions of Tragic Choruses: Classical Period

While Aeschylus’ Suppliants demonstrates a unique way in which the

chorus could function as a protagonist, elsewhere in Greek tragedy the role
of protagonist was performed by non-choral characters. Insofar as the
chorus most often functioned in a complementary, and increasingly sub-
sidiary, 124 role vis-à-vis the non-choral characters, it is most often evalu-
ated functionally in terms of its relationship to the surrounding speech, dia-
logue, and dramatic action of the actors, according to whether it: (1) moves
the dramatic action forward; or (2) stands outside of the dramatic action in
order to cast it in a particular light.

5.3.3 Moving forward the Dramatic Action

The chorus is often considered in terms of its function to announce the
arrival of a character, to provide information about the characters and the
plot-lines, including back-stories of the characters and foreshadowing of
future dramatic events, as well as to provide a dialogue partner and/or
audience for a character. In these ways the chorus advances, or helps to
advance, the plot in a very practical sense, and has thus been likened to a
“narrator.”125 Such functions are taken up in what immediately follows.

Character Entrance Announcements

One of the most frequent functions of the chorus, and most consistent
throughout Classical tragedy, consists of announcing the arrival of a charac-
ter onto the stage (or into the orchestra). This may take the form of a simple
announcement as, e.g., “Stop, stand still! Two men are coming, one a sailor
from your ship, the other a foreigner; hear what they can tell us …”
(Sophocles, Phil. 539–541), or, “Be silent now, for I see a man wearing a
garland coming to bring us news!” (Sophocles, Trach. 178–179). Else-
where, the announcements are more substantial, not only revealing some-
thing of the character’s identity, but offering a reasonable motive for the
appearance, and establishing the relationship(s) of the character within the

124
Throughout the 5th century, non-choral characters became more prominent, to the
detriment of the chorus, whose role was subsequently reduced in quantitative and qualita-
tive terms.
125
Such a label may be applied with a few caveats. The term does not denote, as the
modern senses of the term imply, that the chorus functions in this regard exclusively out-
side the dramatic action as a kind of omniscient observer. That is, the chorus’ narrative
functions are operative while the chorus is interacting with other characters. Moreover,
the chorus’ narrative comments often reflect the perspective of the age, sex, social status,
etc., of the characters that the chorus is portraying, and in this way do not always repre-
sent an omniscient perspective. Finally, the precise narrative functions of the chorus vary
according to structural position, and change from one drama to the next, and across play-
wrights. Arnott, Public and Performance, 30; Rosenmeyer, The Art of Aeschylus, 164ff.
 5.3 The Functions of Tragic Choruses in the Classical Period 229

plot.126 Entrances may be announced at any point in the drama (i.e., at the
end of a choral ode in-between scenes, during a lyric exchange with one of
the characters, or at any point during a scene),127 though it is just as likely
that the entrance of a character will not be preceded by an announce-
ment.128

Synopsis of Present Circumstances

The chorus is often responsible for providing more substantive introduc-
tions for characters and/or plotlines in the drama. This often takes place in
the parodos, in which the chorus offers a synopsis of the present dramatic
circumstances, which in some cases includes a summary of past events that
have led to the current circumstances of the protagonist. So, for example,
amidst its lengthy account of the expedition to Troy in the parodos of
Aeschylus’ Agamemnon, the chorus introduces Clytamnestra and announces
that she has ordered that sacrifices be offered around Argos. This intro-
duction sets the stage for Clytamnestra’s announcement that Agamemnon
is indeed returning to Argos, and sets into motion the plot that ends in
Agamemnon’s demise at the hands of Clytamnestra (Aeschylus, Ag. 83–
103). Likewise, in the parodos of Sophocles’ Oedipus Rex, the chorus
recounts the perilous situation in Thebes, which will compel Oedipus to rid
the city of the source of pollution (himself!), which is the cause of this
peril (Sophocles, Oed. tyr. 167–189). Similarly, the parodos of Sophocles’
Philoctetes, which takes the form of a lyric dialogue with Neoptolemus,
serves as an introduction to the plight of Philoctetes, who has been stranded
alone on an island awaiting his savior(s) who will sail him home (Sopho-
cles, Phil. 135–218).

Foreshadowing
Often the chorus creates a general sense of foreboding, and/or foreshadows
specific dramatic events, either in the form of a choral ode in the parodos
or stasima, or a brief comment within a scene. For example, up to the point
of the second choral stasimon in Aeschylus’ Agamemnon, the surrounding

126
Gardiner, The Sophoclean Chorus, 30; Richard Hamilton, “Announced Entrances
in Greek Tragedy,” HSCP 82 (1978): 63.
127
However, they appear least frequently at the end of a choral ode or lyric exchange
that constitutes a stasimon, most likely on account of the fact that an audience would
have naturally expected an entrance at the end of a stasimon. In other words, there would
have been a greater need for an entrance announcement when the audience was not
expecting an entrance, i.e., during a scene. Oliver Taplin, “Aeschylean Silences and
Silences in Aeschylus,” HSCP 76 (1972): 84.
128
In the extant Greek tragedies, precisely 50% of entrances are announced. Hamil-
ton, “Announced Entrances in Greek Tragedy,” 64.
230 Chapter 5: Form/Functions of Tragic Choruses: Classical Period

speeches and dialogues of the protagonists are entirely positive, and

divulge nothing of the tragedy about to beset Agamemnon. The tone of the
speeches and dialogues are imbued with emotions associated with the
return of a loved one from a long, arduous war, i.e., recounting the sadness
on the part of those who were left at home to await the return of their loved
ones, dead or alive, and happiness at the news of the Achaeans’ conquest
of Troy and imminent return. In the second stasimon, however, the chorus
introduces a sense of foreboding that points towards Agamemnon’s tragic
denouement. After lamenting the wedding of Paris and Helen that begot
the sufferings for Achaeans and Trojans at the beginning of the second
stasimon (Aeschylus, Ag. 681–749), the chorus remarks that impious deeds
breed further impiety (750–772), and that Justice looks unkindly on the
power of counterfeit wealth acquired with unrighteous hands (773–781).
On one level, the “impious deeds” and “unrighteous hands” can be under-
stood to be those of Paris, whose kidnapping of Helen prompted the Trojan
War in the first place, while “Justice” relates to his eventual demise. At the
same time, the “impious deeds” and “unrighteous hands” can also be
understood to refer to those of Agamemnon, who sacrificed his own
daughter Iphigenia in order to allow the Achaeans to sail to Troy in pursuit
of Paris. “Justice,” it soon turns out, then also appears to refer to Agamem-
non’s demise, which will be accomplished by Clytamnestra in retribution
for their daughter’s sacrifice.129 Thus, the choral stasimon offers the first
glimpse of Agamemnon’s impending doom.
In the following stasimon, which immediately follows Agamemnon’s
introductory speech and Clytamnestra’s response, the chorus more directly
instills a sense of impending disaster: “Why, why does this fear persistent-
ly hover about, standing guard in front of my prophetic heart? Whence
comes this presaging song, unbidden, unhired? Why can I not spurn it …?”
(Aeschylus, Ag. 975–979) That the chorus’ song presages the death of
Agamemnon is made clearer in the lines immediately following this, in
which the chorus claims that the fortunes of a rich man can meet unfore-
seen ends, and that an “end” is coming very soon (1001–1007).
The chorus may also very explicitly foreshadow specific dramatic events.
So, for example, in Sophocles’ Ajax, during a lyric exchange between the
chorus and Ajax’ wife Tecmessa, in which Tecmessa reveals how Ajax stole
and illegally sacrificed the Danaans’ livestock, the chorus replies “Alas, I
fear the future! Exposed to the sight of all, the man will perish …” (Sopho-
cles, Aj. 239–240), clearly foretelling Ajax’ death later in the drama.
Throughout Classical tragedy, the chorus often presages future dramatic
events in such ways.

129
That these words are meant to apply to Agamemnon is further suggested by the fact
that they immediately precede the chorus’ introduction of Agamemnon and his first speech.
 5.3 The Functions of Tragic Choruses in the Classical Period 231

An All-Purpose Tool: Dramatic Audience, and Instrument for Eliciting

the Thoughts of the Character, and/or Providing Relevant Dramatic
Information to the Characters
By virtue of its constant presence in the orchestra during scenes, the
chorus was always at the playwright’s disposal for staging various dra-
matic elements. So, for instance, the chorus often served as the dramatic
audience for the speeches and/or dialogue of the characters as, for example,
the agon, the debate between antagonists,130 or the Messenger’s speech.
Additionally, the chorus could take part in dialogue with an actor in order
to elicit information relevant to the dramatic plot. So, for example, it has
already been shown how the chorus functioned as a dialogue partner for a
character in a number of different circumstances in Greek tragedy (e.g.,
lyric dialogue with a character to convey the details of a particularly
intense dramatic situation, and non-lyric dialogue with characters relating
to some mundane element in the plot, such as the introduction of a new
character). In many cases of both of these types of dialogue, however, the
dialogue between chorus and protagonist functions entirely as a dramatic
pretext for which to allow the main character(s) to offer some piece of
information.131 Alternatively, the chorus could serve as a tool by which to
provide information to a character. The chorus may inform a character of
an event that has taken place unbeknownst to him or her, as when Medea’s
attendants reveal to Jason that Medea has killed their children,132 or when
the chorus of Creusa’s attendants betray Xuthus’ plot to convince Ion that
Xuthus is his father.133

5.3.4 Casting the Surrounding Dramatic Action in a Particular Light

The functions of the chorus to advance the dramatic action in these ways
constitute only one aspect of Classical tragic choral functionality. 134 Alter-

130
See Grube, The Drama of Euripides, 105; Dale, “The Chorus in the Action of
Greek Tragedy,” 215ff.
131
See Burton, The Chorus in Sophocles’ Tragedies, 17.
132
Euripides, Med. 1292–1316.
133
Euripides, Ion 725–924.
134
In fact, the characterization simply does not apply in many cases. Generally speak-
ing, the characterization is more applicable to Aeschylean choruses than to choruses in
the plays of Sophocles and Euripides. In the later playwrights, the presentation of back-
ground information necessary to the protagonists and plot-lines, as well as the present
circumstances of the protagonist(s) and the plot trajectories themselves, are often offered
by means of speeches and/or dialogue of the protagonist(s). This is not to say that the
choral odes become dramatically unimportant later in the 5th century, or that the chorus
never offers narrative comments in Sophocles and Euripides. Rather, the role of the chorus
as a narrator is reduced, and much of the narrative function is transferred to the other
characters.
232 Chapter 5: Form/Functions of Tragic Choruses: Classical Period

natively, the chorus is often employed in such a way as to reflect upon,

illuminate certain aspects of, or provide a particular frame through which
to view the dramatic characters and events in the episodes. The chorus in
this capacity does not function so much to interact with characters in ways
that advance the plot, as it casts the surrounding dramatic action in a
particular light. Put in slightly different terms, the chorus often operates
outside the dramatic action in order to say something about it. The chorus’
function in this regard might be considered as a kind of commentator on
the surrounding action.
There exists no standard methodology, terminology, or conceptual
framework, for evaluating the chorus’ function(s) in this regard, likely on
account of the sheer volume of instances in which the chorus could be said
to function in this way, and the varieties of ways that the chorus accom-
plishes this task. Rather, the chorus’ role in this regard is variously con-
strued by different scholars. The chorus is thought to have: (1) provided
“frames” through which to consider the protagonists and their plot-lines;135
(2) “played a significant role … in the deepening of the mythic and moral
background of the events on stage …”;136 (3) “sharpen[ed] perceptions of
the immediate situation”;137 (4) “link[ed] the immediate action to a larger
body of stories, or placing the present in a wider context, to demonstrate
that what the audience is watching is no mere isolated event, but illustra-
tive of a general principle … serving, therefore, as an intermediary in uni-
versalizing the story”;138 (5) “broaden[ed] our horizon, to get us away from
the narrow purview of the dramatic agent by folding larger discourses into
the tragic design … opening up the wider implications of occurrences or of
acts about to be undertaken”;139 (6) “… illuminat[ed] by poetical expression
certain features in the thought, emotion, and language of the actors’
speeches …”;140 (7) “… situate[d] the action [of the actors] in its political,

135
“It [the chorus] can introduce a perspective that reaches beyond the immediate
context of the ode and even beyond what the chorus, as a human participant and char-
acter, can know. At such times the ode creates a larger frame for the particular purposes
of the protagonists or the struggles between the main actors, a frame that looks beyond
the limits of the specific time and place.” Charles Segal, “The Chorus and the Gods in
Oedipus Tyrannus,” Arion 4.1 (1996): 20–21.
136
Simon Goldhill, Reading Greek Tragedy (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press,
1986), 268.
137
Arnott, Public and Performance, 34.
138
Arnott, Public and Performance, 33–34.
139
Thomas G. Rosenmeyer, “Elusory Voices: Thoughts about the Sophoclean Chorus,”
in Nomodeiktes: Greek Studies in Honor of Martin Ostwald (ed. Ralph M. Rosen and
Joseph Farrell; Ann Arbor: University of Michigan Press, 1993), 559.
140
Burton, The Chorus in Sophocles’ Tragedies, 2.
 5.3 The Functions of Tragic Choruses in the Classical Period 233

social, or theological context”;141 and (8) “produce[d] the overtones and

tensions which help to determine our sense of what we are dealing with a
tragedy … It is a preparer, a shaper of expectations, and a mood setter, per-
mitting us to read the terms of the dialogue against a magnifying screen.”142
While these examples demonstrate that differences exist with respect to
the terminology used to describe the ways in which the chorus relates to
the surrounding dramatic action, they also underscore similarities under-
lying each of these conceptions of the function of the chorus to cast the
surrounding dramatic action in a particular light.

Emotional Reactions
One way in which the chorus might cast the dramatic action in a particular
light is by signaling joy, sorrow, satisfaction, dissatisfaction, etc., with a
preceding speech, dialogue, or dramatic event. For instance, the chorus
may express an overtly sympathetic position vis-à-vis the protagonist by
lamenting his or her present circumstances, or rejoicing at a recent turn of
events.143 This may appear in the form of a brief emotional outburst during
a scene, a lyric exchange with a character during or in-between a scene, or
in the form of an extended choral ode in-between scenes.
Importantly, such responses of the chorus were often presented as vari-
ations of traditional lyric forms.144 For example, we have already seen how
lyric exchanges between the chorus and a non-choral character after a tragic
event could take the form of a traditional kommos, or lyric lament. Else-
where, but with less formal consistency, the chorus’ response(s) to tragic
events resembled non-dramatic hymnic forms. For instance, the chorus
may offer a variation of the traditional paean in order to summon the
presence of a deity, as in the parodos of Sophocles’ Oedipux Tyrannus,
when the chorus of Theban elders invokes the presence of Zeus, Athena,
and Apollo to save Thebes from its current devastation,145 and in Aeschy-
lus’ Seven against Thebes, when the chorus of Theban maidens beckons

141
Stephen Esposito, “The Changing Roles of the Sophoclean Chorus,” Arion 4.1
(1996): 85.
142
Rosenmeyer, The Art of Aeschylus, 149.
143
The generally positive disposition of the chorus towards the protagonist has led to
the notion that the chorus functioned primarily in tragedy as a kind of “sympathetic
character” for the protagonist. This is precisely the definition of the chorus offered by
Horace. Horace, Ars 85. The characterization of the chorus as a “sympathetic character”
does not apply universally to the chorus, as it often takes an ambivalent, or even antag-
onistic, stance towards the protagonist. So, too, can the chorus’ position vis-à-vis the
protagonist change throughout the course of the play.
144
Although the generic similarities between dramatic and non-dramatic hymnic
forms are “usually fairly loose.” Rutherford, “Apollo in Ivy,” 112, 118.
145
Sophocles, Oed. tyr. 151ff.
234 Chapter 5: Form/Functions of Tragic Choruses: Classical Period

the Olympian deities to protect the city and people of Thebes as Poly-
neices’ army is approaching.146 Hymns to the gods sung by the chorus were
particularly common in Greek tragedy, and their function will be taken up
in more detail later in the chapter.
At the very least, choral responses to dramatic events draw attention to
a particular aspect of the event by concentrating the audience’s attention
on it. In so doing, the chorus may also function to modulate the emotional
response to the preceding events for the audience.147 That is, the chorus
may heighten the emotional tension created in the surrounding dramatic
action: joy at a perceived good turn of events, sadness when things have
turned out poorly, or anxiety when a course of action is yet undetermined.
By contrast, the chorus may also offer a digression that provides relief
from an emotionally charged scene.148
The chorus’ reactions to dramatic events provide opportunities for the
audience members to reflect upon the dramatic events.149 More than this,
however, the chorus signals to the audience how it might react emotionally
to these events. In other words, the chorus serves as a tool at the play-
wright’s disposal to guide the audience’s response(s) to the events.150 Much
more will be said later in the chapter about the specific means by which
the chorus directs the sympathies of the audience in this way. For now, the
preceding discussion of the chorus’ typically sympathetic response to the
protagonist, and its conventional reactions to various dramatic events,

146
Aeschylus, Sept. 287ff.
147
Rosenmeyer, The Art of Aeschylus, 148ff.; Kirkwood, “The Dramatic Role of the
Chorus in Sophocles,” 6–22; Eric R. Dodds, Bacchae (Oxford: Oxford University Press,
1960), 117, 142, 182–183; 219; Esposito, “The Changing Roles of the Sophoclean
Chorus,” 85–114; Phoutrides, “The Chorus of Euripides,” 77–170.
148
Mastronarde has argued that choral odes not immediately connected to the pre-
ceding (or following) dialogue often do just this, by diverting attention away from the
specific circumstances of an emotionally intense scene. Mastronarde, The Art of Euripi-
des, 133–145. Good examples are the choral odes in Sophocles’ Antigone, where the
primary suspense is created in a series of five exchanges between actors, and in which
the chorus functions in-between these exchanges to quell the emotions created by them.
Esposito, “The Changing Roles of the Sophoclean Chorus,” 89ff.
149
For example, Easterling comments that the tragic chorus acts in this sense “as a
group of ‘built-in’ witnesses” whose job it is “to help the audience become involved in
the process of responding …” Pat A. Easterling, “Form and Performance,” in The Cam-
bridge Companion to Greek Tragedy (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1997),
151–177.
150
For example, Grube has argued that by offering their own response to the tragic
events, the chorus helped to “fix” the emotional response of the audience to the sur-
rounding events. Grube, The Drama of Euripides, 99–126. Likewise, in his consideration
of Aeschylean choruses, Gruber argues that the tragic chorus’ chief function is to focalize
and guide the viewing audience’s response. Markus A. Gruber, Der Chor in den Tragö-
dien des Aischylos: Affekt und Reaktion (Tübingen: Gunter Narr, 2009).
 5.3 The Functions of Tragic Choruses in the Classical Period 235

suffices to demonstrate that one of the primary functions of the chorus is to

offer a reaction to the surrounding dramatic events.

Framing the Dramatic Action in a Mythological-Historical Context

The chorus sometimes offered a survey of past mythological-historical
events that are somehow relevant to the current dramatic action and/or the
protagonist(s), thereby casting the dramatic plot in a particular mytho-
logical-historical light. In Classical tragedy, this often occurred during the
synopsis of the present dramatic circumstances in the parodos. For
example, in the parodos of Aeschylus’ Agamemnon, the chorus of Argive
elders announces that it is the tenth year of the expedition against Troy,
and recounts the pivotal events that have led to this point: the launch of the
Greek ships to Troy by Menelaus and Agamemnon, on account of Paris’
abduction of Helen (Aeschylus, Ag. 40–67), the auspicious omen that was
interpreted by the diviner Calchas to portend a successful expedition (104–
159), and the unfavorable winds that compelled Agamemnon to sacrifice
his daughter Iphigenia (185–247). The narration of these events is certainly
not exhaustive, but rather oriented around those events that are critical for
situating the events that will transpire in the rest of Aeschylus’ play. That
is, the chorus’ summary of the expedition to Troy provides the context for
the play’s setting, i.e., Agamemnon’s victorious return from Troy, while
their account of Iphigenia’s sacrifice directs attention to the event in Aga-
memnon’s past that will lead ultimately to his demise, i.e., his murder at
the hands of his wife Clytamnestra as retribution for this deed.
The chorus also regularly offered such mythological-historical contexts
during the stasima. So, for instance, in the third stasimon of Aeschylus’
Seven against Thebes, immediately after it has been made clear that Eteo-
cles intends to defend the city of Thebes rather than cede partial control to
his brother Polyneices, the chorus offers a long strophic ode lamenting the
familial curse that has brought about the current strife (Aeschylus, Sept.
720–791). The chorus explains that the current hostility between Eteocles
and Polyneices is one consequence of the curse that was leveled upon their
grandfather Laius for disregarding the oracle of Apollo (742–749), the
consequences of which include each of the events leading to the present
scenario: Oedipus’ birth, unknowing murder of his father, marriage to his
mother (750–757), self-blinding (778–784), and subsequent curse that his
sons would battle for his inheritance (785–791). By recounting this history,
the chorus thus situates the battle about to take place for control of Thebes
as part and parcel of this larger mythic cycle.
A common means by which the chorus would set the current dramatic
circumstances into a mythological-historical perspective was to consider
them in terms of mythological precedents. So, for instance, in the second
236 Chapter 5: Form/Functions of Tragic Choruses: Classical Period

choral stasimon in Aeschylus’ Libation-Bearers, after the evil deeds of

Clytamnestra and the retributive plan hatched by her children to kill her
have been recounted, the chorus identifies the ultimate source of such
heinous crimes as unchecked female passions (Aeschylus, Cho. 585–652).
The chorus goes on to explain that this claim can be validated not solely on
the basis of the events that have transpired in the house of Agamemnon,
but by considering similarly heinous, familial crimes in the mythic past,
e.g., Meleager’s mother who, having been informed that her son would die
once the log burning in her hearth was finally consumed, eventually let the
log burn up (602–612); Scylla, who betrayed her father by cutting off the
lock of hair with which his city was kept safe, allowing King Minos of
Crete to besiege it (613–622); and the women of Lemnos, who murdered
their own husbands and took the Argonauts as lovers (631–638). Among
these monstrous acts, the chorus goes on to claim, is the wedding of Cly-
tamnestra to Aegisthus, and their subsequent murder of Agamemnon (623–
630). In this way, the actions of Clytamnestra are shown to be part of a
long history of transgressions whose source is the misguided passions of a
woman.
Mythical analogies just as often take the form of a very brief allusion
without a philosophical or aetiological explanation. For instance, in
Aeschylus’ Suppliants, the Danaid chorus likens their escape to Argos
from their Egyptian suitors to Procne, who was pursued by her husband
(Aeschylus, Supp. 57–67). Likewise, in Euripides’ Heracles, the chorus
likens Heracles’ maddened murder of his children both to the Danaids’
murder of their husbands, and to Procne killing Itys (Euripides, Herc. fur.
1016–1024). Finally, mythical analogies may not be explicitly related to
the current dramatic circumstances, but may rather take the form of a brief
thematic, topographical, or mythical allusion, from which a connection
might be inferred.151 Whatever form they take, mythical analogies allow
the chorus to offer a kind of vantage point from which the present dramatic
events can be considered, whereby the achievements (or failures) of past
heroes become the lens through which present achievements, and/or fail-
ures, can be judged.152

151
Mastronarde observes that such allusions may not have been perceived unanimous-
ly, but apparent perhaps only to those learned enough to draw inferences from the choral
allusions to such connections. Mastronarde, The Art of Euripides, 122.
152
“The burden of the past, the intervention of the gods, and what one might call the
fatal beauty of famous events are kept before the audience's mind as it reacts to and com-
bines the different perspectives offered to it.” Mastronarde, The Art of Euripides, 123.
For more on mythic analogies, see Mastronarde, The Art of Euripides, 122ff.; Rosen-
meyer, The Art of Aeschylus, 153; Parry, Lyric Poems of Greek Tragedy.
 5.3 The Functions of Tragic Choruses in the Classical Period 237

Framing the Dramatic Action in a Philosophical Context

Often, the chorus offered philosophical reflections in light of a dramatic
event or situation. Such reflections took numerous forms, ranging from
extended deliberations to very brief musings, though in any form they most
often occurred during one of the choral odes. The chorus touched on a
wide-range of topics according to the dramatic exigency. 153 For instance,
in the parodos of Aeschylus’ Libation-Bearers, the chorus of elderly
female attendants of Clytamnestra reflects on the fact that Clytamnestra
has sent them to the tomb of Agamemnon, who was killed by Clytamnestra.
After recounting their task at the tomb, and the ominous dream Clytam-
nestra received that prompted her to send the chorus to Agamemnon’s tomb
in the first place (Aeschylus, Cho. 23–41), the chorus laments the destruc-
tion that has come to the house of Agamemnon (44–58). At this point, the
chorus reflects on the tendency for Justice to out-maneuver Fortune in
mortals’ lives (58–65). The implication appears to be that while mortals tend
to assume that good fortune will prevail for them, even in those instances
such as the current predicament in which Clytamnestra has landed herself,
Justice always demands retribution. In other words, the chorus casts
Clytamnestra’s current circumstances in philosophical terms by suggesting
that the universe is ordered in such a way that Clytamnestra will be forced
to pay the consequences for the murder of her husband (66–74).
Likewise, in the parodos of Sophocles’ Electra,154 the chorus of Argive
maidens, who are there ostensibly to comfort Electra as she mourns the
death of her father Agamemnon, consistently frames Electra’s laments in
terms of their philosophical and ethical consequences. They caution Electra
that immoderate weeping and prayers will never bring Agamemnon back,
and will eventually lead to her ruin (137–144), reminding her that she is
not the only mortal to have suffered such sorrows (153–154). Finally, the
chorus notes that it is impossible to struggle against those in power, and
that as a consequence, Electra ought to abandon her vengeful plots, lest
they plunge her into ruin by creating misery out of misery (213–220, 233–
235). The chorus’ calls for moderation serve as a consistent counter-point

153
The chorus’ philosophical deliberations reflect a wide variety of opinions on a
number of subjects, and as such, the question of the source of the chorus’ philosophical
reflections has long been considered. That is, which philosophies, or whose philosophies,
are represented by the chorus in Classical tragedy? The poet’s own philosophy? The con-
ventional wisdom of the community? The question of whose, or which, voices are
reflected in the tragic chorus will be taken up detail later in the chapter.
154
Here the parodos is presented not as an exclusively choral ode, but in the form of a
lyric dialogue between the chorus and Electra.
238 Chapter 5: Form/Functions of Tragic Choruses: Classical Period

to Electra’s vengeful plotting, and constitute a contrasting perspective on

Electra’s present circumstances and intentions.155
Philosophical reflections are often not as comprehensive elsewhere as in
these examples, but may instead consist of brief musings that could occur
either during the course of a choral ode in-between scenes, in dialogue with
another character, or as a non-dialogical comment during a scene. To cite
just a few examples from a very wide range of material, the chorus of elders
in Aeschylus’ Agamemnon reflects the notion that an excess of pride, impi-
ety, or wealth tends to bring about unintended disaster (Aeschylus, Ag. 367–
402), in addition to the idea that impious deeds beget further impiety and
just deeds breed further justice (750–762). Sophocles’ chorus of women in
Electra warns against excess passions (Sophocles, El. 137–144, 177, 369),
touts the benefits of foresight and wise-thinking (990, 1015), claims that it
is impossible to struggle against those in power (219–220), and highlights
the fact suffering and pain are a hallmark of human existence (1171–1173).

Framing the Dramatic Action within a Mythological-Theological

Perspective
Philosophical deliberations of the chorus often included considerations of
the gods. No firm boundaries existed in antiquity separating the domains of
mortals, heroes, and gods; rather, they were intimately connected – the
gods were thought to interfere regularly in human affairs, human actions
had divine consequences, and the initiatives of the gods impinged upon
mortals’ lives. Consequently, firm boundaries often did not exist between
the world of philosophy and theology. The chorus was often a vehicle for
reflecting on the nature of the gods and their interactions in the world, the
consequences of divine favor and disfavor on human affairs, and divine
underpinnings of goings-on in the human world.
So, for example, in the parodos of Aeschylus’ Agamemnon, the chorus
offers theological reflections on the fate of the Trojans at the hands of
Agamemnon and the Danaan contingent. At the very beginning of the ode,
the chorus connects ten years of war in Troy with divine acts (perhaps the
doings of Apollo, Pan, or Zeus), which are said to be ultimately respon-
sible for the war and the destruction of Troy (Aeschylus, Ag. 40ff.). The
gods are said to have exacted “revenge” upon the citizens of Troy as retri-
bution for Paris’ abduction of Helen (55–59). The chorus then specifically

155
“It is generally agreed that they [the chorus] represent ordinary women with the
usual human instinct for caution and reasonableness, in contrast to Electra’s heroic
stature and capacity for suffering, and that they rebuke her emotional excesses, attempt to
persuade all parties to yield to moderation, and in general serve as an effective foil to
Electra’s character.” Gardiner, The Sophoclean Chorus, 141. Cf. Burton, The Chorus in
Sophocles’ Tragedies, 192.
 5.3 The Functions of Tragic Choruses in the Classical Period 239

identifies Zeus, the “god of hospitality,” as the one who compelled the
sons of Atreus against Paris (apparently, as the epithet suggests, on the
basis of the fact that Paris’ abduction of Helen constituted a breach of
Menelaus’ hospitality), and in so doing “imposed” struggles amongst
Greeks and Trojans alike (60–67). Before turning to other matters, the
chorus concludes by remarking that Zeus had established this destiny for
the Greeks and Trojans such that the course could not be altered by any
means (67–71). In this way, the past sufferings of the Greeks and Trojans,
the present circumstances of Agamemnon and his fleet, and no less the
future calamity about to beset Agamemnon, are situated theologically in a
context of the retributive power of Zeus.
In the same play, the kommos that occurs between Clytamnestra and the
chorus shortly after Clytamnestra has murdered King Agamemnon, serves
as a good example of the tendency of the chorus to frame episodic events
in theological terms (Aeschylus, Ag. 1407–1577). The kommos comes
immediately on the heels of Clytamnestra’s speech in which she insistently
claims sole responsibility for the murder of the King. Given Clytamnestra’s
hostile position vis-à-vis Agamemnon throughout the play, and the con-
spicuous foreshadowing of her eventual murderous deed, there is no reason
to doubt Clytamnestra’s admission or to suspect an accomplice at this
point. In the kommos, however, it is revealed that Clytamnestra was not
alone responsible for the murder; on the contrary, many are responsible.
To begin, Clytamnestra introduces the role of “Avenging Justice” in the
plot (which operates on behalf of her daughter, Iphigenia, who was
sacrificed by Agamemnon in order to procure favorable winds with which
to sail to Troy), and in doing so implicates Justice as “coadjutor” in the
murder of Agamemnon.156 At the same time, Clytamnestra implicates her
illicit lover, Aegisthus, in the plot (1436). In their response, the chorus
likens Clytamnestra’s adulterous murder to Helen who, like Clytamnestra,
caused Agamemnon’s demise (1451–1461). By means of a mythical-
historical analogy in which Clytamnestra’s madness is compared with
Helen’s strife, the chorus implies that “unconquerable strife” is also partly
to blame for Agamemnon’s demise. The chorus concludes their argument
in a similar vein by implicating the daimon that compelled women such as
Helen and Clytamnestra to such deeds (1470), and ultimately Zeus, who is
said to be the ultimate cause of all events (1485–1486). In this way, the
choral kommos establishes that Agamemnon’s demise at the hands of Cly-
tamnestra is not an isolated act of a madwoman, as Clytamnestra herself
had claimed, but is intimately connected with the workings of various

156
Desmond J. Conacher, “Interaction between Chorus and Characters in the Ores-
teia,” AJP 95.4 (1974): 326.
240 Chapter 5: Form/Functions of Tragic Choruses: Classical Period

mythological-theological forces. The chorus thus fundamentally reframes

the issue of Clytamnestra’s culpability in mythological-theological terms.
Several of the choral odes in Sophocles’ Oedipus Rex provide clear
mythological-theological reflections on episodic events as they unfold
throughout the play. The primary storyline of the play consists of the
unfolding revelation that the unidentified murderer of Laius is, in fact,
Oedipus himself who, it turns out, not only unknowingly killed his father,
but has also been unknowingly married to his own mother, Jocasta. Central
to Oedipus’ recognition of his true identity are two separate oracles
through which his crimes were foretold:
(1) An oracle once came to Laius … saying that it would be his fate to die at the hands of
the son who should be the child of him and [Jocasta] (711–713).
(2) I [Oedipus] went to Pytho, and Phoebus [Apollo] sent me away cheated of what I had
come for, but came out with other things terrible and sad for my unhappy self, saying that
I was destined to lie with my mother … and I should be the murderer of the father who
had begotten me (787–793).

Of course, it turns out that the oracles have accurately predicted both Laius’
murder by his own son, and the incestuous relationship between Oedipus
and his mother. The choral odes provide a mythological-theological per-
spective on the story of Oedipus in two related ways. On one hand, the
chorus consistently takes the position that oracles are, in fact, accurate
predictors of future events and as such can be relied upon by mortals. And
in fact, the chorus’ positive view of the efficacy of oracles, which is chal-
lenged throughout the play by Jocasta’s conviction that the course of
mortals’ lives is determined by random chance, and Oedipus’ belief that
human machinations determine human affairs, turns out to be the correct
position.157 In other words, the chorus’ mythological-theological perspec-
tive with respect to the efficacy of divine oracles turns out to be the correct
perspective in which to view the unfolding of the events in the play.158
Closely related to the chorus’ confidence in the efficacy of the Delphic
oracle is the notion that the Olympian divinities are ultimately responsible
for creating the kind of ordered universe revealed through the oracles. This
idea is promoted throughout the choral odes in the play, and summed up in
the antistrophe of the first stasimon:
Both Zeus and Apollo have understanding and know the ways of mortals (498–499).

157
For a discussion of the conflict between the chorus and characters in this respect,
see Esposito, “The Changing Roles of the Sophoclean Chorus,” 93–95.
158
Although such a position is not infallible in and of itself, as attested by the third
stasimon, in which the chorus casts doubt on the reliability of the oracles. See Segal,
“The Chorus and the Gods in Oedipus Tyrannus,” 26–28.
 5.3 The Functions of Tragic Choruses in the Classical Period 241

This view is repeated by the chorus in the second stasimon, and presented
in such a way as to connect Zeus with an eternal order of things:
May such a destiny abide with me that I win praise for a reverent purity in all words and
deeds sanctioned by laws that stand high, generated in lofty heaven, the laws whose
father is Olympus. The mortal nature of men did not beget them, neither shall they be
lulled to sleep by forgetfulness. Great in these laws is the god, nor does he ever grow old
(863–872).159

Thus, in these particular odes and elsewhere in the play, the chorus pro-
vides a mythological-theological perspective with which to explain the
efficacy of the oracles.160
The chorus’ mythological-theological reflections in the choral odes are
often not as comprehensive elsewhere in Greek drama as they are in the
previous examples. Elsewhere the chorus’ reflections often consist of less
elaborate reflections that nevertheless set the current dramatic circum-
stances in a mythological-theological perspective. For instance, the drama-
tic context for the beginning of Sophocles’ Ajax is the (truthful) accusation
that Ajax has slaughtered the Argive cattle in retribution for not receiving
Achilles’ shield (Sophocles, Aj. 1–90). The choral ode in the parodos brief-
ly recounts the charges made against Ajax, and then suggests that only a
god could have prompted Ajax to commit such a deed (172–185). The very
next line is a plea to Zeus and Apollo to avert the rumor from among the
Argives, so as to ward off their vengeance upon him (185–186). Here the
chorus’ reaction to Ajax’ situation is not an exposition on the theological
nature of retribution, or an extended reflection on how it was that the gods
could have compelled Ajax to commit such a crime. Rather, the chorus’
brief comments simply connect Ajax’ deeds with the workings of the gods,
and suggest that only the gods could avert further calamity.

Mythological-Theological Reflections and Choral Hymns

One of the most common means by which a tragic chorus framed the
surrounding dramatic action in mythological-theological terms was by
singing a hymn in response to a dramatic event. I have already touched
upon the fact that such hymns often bore similarities to non-dramatic
hymnic forms, paeans, dithyrambs, etc., while they very often consisted of
blended elements of otherwise distinct hymnic genres.161 The functions of

159
The explicit connection between Zeus and an eternal divine order is reflected else-
where in Sophocles, most notably in the second stasimon of Antigone (604–610).
160
Segal, “The Chorus and the Gods in Oedipus Tyrannus,” 25.
161
Commentators are typically very comfortable speaking of a tragic hymn incorpor-
ating elements of various hymnic genres in a single hymn. Segal suggests that dramatists
were free to deviate from traditional hymnic forms on account of the fact that they were
not tied to the actual cultic contexts in which the hymn(s) were actually performed. Fur-
242 Chapter 5: Form/Functions of Tragic Choruses: Classical Period

hymns in tragedy are manifold. At the structural level, tragic hymns most
often constitute responses to specific dramatic events that have just taken
place on-stage, or have been described by one of the characters: a hymn of
joy in response to positive news, a wedding-hymn in honor of a marriage, a
paean to summon Apollo in the face of imminent disaster, etc. In this way,
the function(s) of choral hymns in tragedy evokes the function(s) of choral
hymns in the “real-life” of Classical Athens. Insofar as choral hymns were
prevalent in the actual lives of Athenians in the Classical period as respon-
ses to various life-events, and inasmuch as tragedies were imitations of
life,162 choral hymns in tragedy would have appeared natural and expected
as part and parcel of various dramatic sequences of events.163 In other
words, “dramatic hymns may be considered part of the dramatic illusion
created in order to present before a receptive audience the impression of
events happening in mythical time.”164
While tragic hymns can thus be understood as dramatic events within
the dramatic movement of the play as a whole, they also function to cast
the surrounding dramatic action in a particular mythological-theological
light. At one level, the hymns offer a mythological-theological perspective
in the drama simply by associating and connecting dramatic events with
mythological-theological characters, for in doing so the chorus demon-
strates the belief in the inherent relationship between the gods and mortals,
and the comingling of the divine and mortal realms. That is, the chorus
confirms through hymns that mortal events include divine workings and
have divine implications. At the same time, the chorus often offers by
means of hymns explicit reflections on the mythological-theological under-
pinnings and implications of the dramatic events themselves.
The hymn to Zeus in the middle of the parodos of Aeschylus’ Agamem-
non serves as a good example of this phenomenon. As was shown above,
the parodos begins with a theological reflection on the fact that Zeus has
caused both the Trojans and Greeks to suffer long and hard on account of
Paris’ abduction of Helen. Most of the rest of the parodos consists of the

ley and Bremer likewise acknowledge that dramatists adapted traditional hymnic forms in
order to suit a particular dramatic purpose, the particular exigencies of which often
required that traditional forms be modified. Segal, “The Chorus and the Gods in Oedipus
Tyrannus,” 20–32; Furley and Bremer, Greek Hymns, 1:275–277.
162
Aristotle, Poet. 1450a17.
163
While certain formal and functional elements of tragic hymns can be considered in
terms of pre- or non-dramatic hymns, their formal characteristics and functional contribu-
tions cannot be considered in isolation from the dramatic contexts in which they appear.
Their functional value in drama is determined primarily with respect to their relation-
ship(s) to the surrounding dramatic action, and must be considered first and foremost in
terms of these relationships. Desmond J. Conacher, Aeschylus: The Earlier Plays and
Related Studies (Toronto: University of Toronto Press, 1996), 165–167.
164
Furley and Bremer, Greek Hymns, 1:273.
 5.3 The Functions of Tragic Choruses in the Classical Period 243

chorus’ description of the events that led to the sacrifice of Iphigenia, and
an account of the sacrifice itself (140–159, 184–247). The choral ode con-
stitutes an illustration of the kind of suffering that the war has entailed, and
a foregrounding of the principal event that leads to the tragic denouement
in this play (i.e., Clytamnestra’s murder of Agamemnon on account of his
sacrifice of Iphigenia). In the midst of this account is a hymn to Zeus,165
whose central themes are the supreme divinity of Zeus (160–175), and the
notion that Zeus confers wisdom upon mortals through suffering (176–
183). The hymn thus confirms the sentiment expressed at the beginning of
the parodos of the sovereignty of Zeus, implicit in which is the reaffirm-
ation that the course of the war, including all the suffering that was occa-
sioned by it, was ordained by Zeus. So much might also be understood by
the claim that Zeus “set mortals on the road to understanding” (176–177).
At the same time, the hymn goes further to claim that the suffering decreed
by Zeus serves a pedagogical function: suffering begets learning (176–
181). Though the precise means by which such learning occurs is not fur-
ther explained, the hymn makes clear that the suffering entailed in the war,
i.e., the very suffering described in the parodos, as well as the suffering
that is about to take place in the course of the tragedy, is part and parcel of
an ultimately benevolent mechanism by which Zeus confers wisdom upon
mortals.
The parodos of Sophocles’ Oedipus Rex, which consists of a hymn to
Apollo, also clearly demonstrates the extent to which a hymn can cast the
surrounding dramatic action in a particular mythological-theological light.
The dramatic context for the hymn, revealed in the introductory prologue
and dialogue, consists of the description of great suffering in Thebes on
account of the fact that the murderer of former King Laius (i.e., Oedipus)
is living unpunished in the city. The chorus begins the parodos by calling
upon Apollo to accomplish some salvific deed in response to the current
misfortune that has beset the city, and to convey the nature of this deed
through the oracle at Delphi (151–157). The chorus then invokes both
Athena and Artemis to appear alongside Apollo, with the stated hope that
the three gods will be able to ward off the doom looming over Thebes
(158–166). After a brief recounting of the dire straits in which the city has
found itself (167–189), the chorus then calls upon Ares to hasten away
from Thebes, and upon Zeus to destroy Ares with a thunderbolt (190–203).
The hymn concludes with a re-iteration of the chorus’ invocation of Apollo
and Artemis, and a final invocation of Bacchus to help to rid the city of
Ares. This hymnic parodos thus frames the preceding dramatic material in
a particular mythological-theological perspective by proposing a divine

165
The so-called “Hymn to Zeus, whoever he might be.”
244 Chapter 5: Form/Functions of Tragic Choruses: Classical Period

source of the suffering of Thebes (i.e., Ares), and associating the salvation
of the city with the beneficence of other Olympian deities.
These examples highlight the predominant function of tragic hymns to
provide mythological-theological contexts for considering the surrounding
dramatic circumstances. The lowest common functional denominator of
tragic hymns is to associate dramatic events with divine activity, though
this can be variously accomplished. That is, a hymnic response to a drama-
tic event may constitute an analysis or “diagnosis” of the mythological-
theological forces that have led to the event,166 including perhaps a recount-
ing of a god’s past deeds that are brought to bear on the current dramatic
circumstances, an explanation or elaboration of the mythological-theologi-
cal implications of a dramatic event, or an attempt to highlight the divine
means by which a resolution to the dramatic problem might be reached.

Caveats
Having established a framework for considering the “reflective” functions
of the chorus, a couple of additional observations may be offered:
(1) While some functions of the chorus with respect to the surrounding
dialogue are more likely to appear either during or in-between scenes, or to
be associated with a particular type of choral lyric (i.e., parodos, stasimon,
lyric dialogue, etc.), the functions of the chorus tended not to be strictly
associated with one type of choral lyric or another. For example, while the
chorus most often offered a synopsis of current dramatic circumstances,
and the historical circumstances which have led to them, during the
parodos, this could also occur at later points in a tragedy. In this vein, the
chorus could introduce a character, foreshadow future events, or create
various dramatic exigencies by means of a lyric song in-between scenes
(i.e., parodos, stasimon, exodos, or lyric dialogue with another character),
or by some means during a scene (e.g., lyric or non-lyric dialogue with
another character, or in a non-lyric, non-dialogical utterance). Likewise,
the chorus offered emotional responses to a dramatic event, and framed the
surrounding dramatic action in a particular light (e.g., in a mythological-
historical, philosophical, and/or mythological-theological context) by
means of choral lyrics that occurred both during and in-between scenes.
(2) The chorus is not solely responsible for offering emotional reactions
to, or mythical-historical, philosophical, or theological perspectives on, the
dramatic action. The main characters very often offer emotional reactions
of the same sort as the chorus does, and reflect on the historical, mythical/
theological, philosophical, and ethical underpinnings and consequences of
166
William D. Furley, “Hymns in Euripidean Tragedy,” in Euripides and Tragic
Theatre in the Late Fifth Century (ed. Martin J. Cropp, Kevin Lee, and David Sansone;
Champaign, Ill.: University of Illinois Press, 2000), 183–197.
 5.3 The Functions of Tragic Choruses in the Classical Period 245

their own thoughts and actions. As such, the chorus’ reflections on the pres-
ent circumstances are not always unique. For instance, the choral parodos
sometimes reflects the sentiments expressed in the prologos of the actor.167
Throughout a given tragedy, the confluence(s) and/or differences in the
ways in which the main characters and the chorus react to, and/or context-
ualize, the dramatic events often constitute critical dramatic dynamics.
(3) The content of the chorus’ utterances are not always intimately
related to the surrounding dialogue and (non-choral) dramatic action. On
the contrary, the connection of the choral odes to the surrounding dramatic
action appears at times conspicuously unrelated. On account of this, the
content of the choral odes can be evaluated in terms of the extent to which
it relates – or does not relate – to the surrounding dialogue and dramatic
action within scenes, a topic which will be taken up below.
(4) Often, the philosophical, mythical-historical, and/or mythological-
theological perspective offered by the chorus provides a framework for
considering larger themes in the play. That is, the perspective offered by
the chorus in the beginning of the play often re-appears in subsequent
choral odes and/or dialogue(s) with the protagonist(s), though this is not to
say that the perspective of the chorus remains the same throughout a play.
For example, the framework offered in the parodos often frames the entire
tragedy play (e.g., Aeschylus, Ag.; Sophocles, Trach. 496ff.; Euripides, El.
432–486). The relationships of the chorus to larger themes of the play are
often more conspicuous when the chorus immediate relationship to the
surrounding dramatic action is less conspicuous.
(5) While dramatic choruses exhibit fairly consistent functionality in
terms of these broad trajectories, their functions within a given tragedy are
fluid, and determined largely by the particular needs of a playwright in a
given play, and the specific plot demands at a particular point in the drama.
The flexibility of the dramatic chorus in this regard is conspicuous from
even a cursory read of Greek tragedy, and in this way, the chorus has right-
ly been called an “all-purpose character.”168
(6) The functions of the secondary choruses with respect to the sur-
rounding dramatic action can be considered in the very same terms as those
of the primary choruses. On the one hand, as I noted above, on several
occasions the secondary chorus serves as a lyric dialogue partner with a
protagonist, in order to convey the details of an emotionally charged scene,
and in this capacity the chorus clearly functions to advance the dramatic
action. In addition to this, a dialogue between the secondary chorus and
Hippolytus in Euripides’ Hippolytus functions to provide background in-

167
Grube, The Drama of Euripides, 107–110; Garvie, Aeschylus’ Supplices, 120ff.;
Burton, The Chorus in Sophocles’ Tragedies, 140ff.
168
Vickers, Towards Greek Tragedy, 10ff. Cf. Rehm, “Performing the Chorus,” 46.
246 Chapter 5: Form/Functions of Tragic Choruses: Classical Period

formation relevant to the plot.169 This dialogue allows Hippolytus’ defining

traits to be revealed, i.e., his chaste lifestyle, and disrespect for Aphrodite.
Insofar as Hippolytus’ disrespect for Aphrodite sets in motion subsequent
dramatic events, i.e., Aphrodite’s curse upon Phaedra to fall in love with
Hippolytus, and Hippolytus’ eventual demise at his father’s hands, the dia-
logue provides critical background information relevant for understanding
subsequent dramatic events. These are the only ways in which the second-
ary chorus could be said to advance the dramatic action. In other words, in
the extant texts, the secondary chorus never: (1) signals the arrival of
characters; (2) offers a synopsis of the current dramatic circumstances; or
(3) foreshadows future dramatic events.
On the other hand, the secondary chorus appears at least once to cast the
surrounding dramatic activity in a particular light. The clearest example of
this occurs when a (secondary) chorus of maiden girls sings a hymenaios in
Euripides’ Phaethon, in response to the wedding of Clymene and Merops.170
Insofar as it represents an emotional outburst in response to a dramatic
event, it functions according to one of the conventions of choral lyrics
generally. Moreover, the hymn represents a positive response to the mar-
riage, and frames it in (almost excessively) positive terms. This response
functions ironically in the text, as the reality of the situation is much worse
than any of the characters realize (i.e., Merops’ “son” Phaethon has died).
Thus, the choral reflection on the marriage functions as an ironically posi-
tive reflection upon circumstances which are in reality quite disastrous.

5.3.5 The “Voice” of the Chorus

The various ways in which the chorus operated in Greek tragedy, by
responding in a particular way to tragic events, or by casting the sur-
rounding speeches, dialogue, and dramatic action of the other characters in
a particular mythical-historical, philosophical, or theological light, prompts
questions about the voice that is represented in such instances by the
chorus – i.e., whose opinions are reflected in the suggestion that the
sufferings of the house of Agamemnon are a consequence of his unholy
sacrifices, or that the progeny of Laius continue to suffer on account of the
fact that he disobeyed the command of the oracle at Delphi? Or, which
philosophical systems are evident in the aphoristic statements offered by
the chorus in various Classical tragedies?

169
Euripides, Hipp. 58–113.
170
Euripides, Phaethon 229–243.
 5.3 The Functions of Tragic Choruses in the Classical Period 247

The Voice of the Choral Characters

On the one hand, the chorus often reflects the dramatized “voice” of the
characters they represent in the tragedy, e.g., Theban elders, Argive women,
Egyptian slaves, etc. In other words, the chorus often speaks in accordance
with what might be expected of, say, elders, or maidens, in a particular
dramatic situation. For instance, the histrionics of the chorus in the first
stasimon of Aeschylus’ Seven against Thebes can be understood as the
expected, stereotyped expression of young girls whose city is under siege.
In other words, the voice of the chorus at that particular time appears to
have been determined by the collective age, sex, and social status of the
characters they represent, their relationship to the protagonist(s), as well as
the dramatic exigencies of which the chorus is a part.171 This may be
referred to as the “intra-dramatic voice” of the chorus.172
By contrast, the chorus often offers reflections on the meaning of a
particular event in ways which are far less attributable – if attributable at
all – to the characters they represent, or to particular dramatic exigencies.
In other words, the chorus often takes on a voice which goes beyond the
limitations imposed by the fact that the chorus is representing a particular
group of persons within the confines of a particular play. The chorus of
young maidens in Aeschylus’ Seven against Thebes again offers an example
of such a voice during a dialogue with Eteocles. Even as the opposing
army remains outside the city poised to attack, the girls offer tempered,
calculated reflections on the many detrimental consequences of war, which
serve as counter-points to Eteocles’ unrestrained desire for battle (Aeschy-
lus, Sept. 680ff.). Commentators have acknowledged that the chorus’
remarks represent philosophical reflections that go far beyond what might
be expected from besieged maidens.173 In other words, at this point the
chorus demonstrates “… a degree of prescience or insight that exceeds
what can be reasonably assigned to the chorus if the latter is felt to be
strictly in character within the temporal continuum of the action.”174

171
This is not to say that the chorus’ voice in this respect remains constant from one
play to the next. Rather, the chorus’ voice changes from play to play in according to the
characters being represented in the play. That is, Greek soldiers returning from Troy
would offer different kinds of reactions, advice, and dialogue than would female attend-
ants in the royal household.
172
Mastronarde, The Art of Euripides, 89.
173
“Compared with their earlier exchanges (180–286), the reversal in the positions of
Eteocles and the chorus is so complete that this chorus of young maidens even speak to
him as if his superiors in age and wisdom.” Aeschylus, Seven against Thebes (ed. Alan
Sommerstein; Cambridge, Mass.: Harvard University Press, 2008), 222, n. 98.
174
Mastronarde, The Art of Euripides, 112.
248 Chapter 5: Form/Functions of Tragic Choruses: Classical Period

Choral reflections of this sort are frequent in Classical tragedy, and may be
considered the “extra-dramatic voice” of the chorus.175
Thus, the voice of the chorus was not consistent in any given tragedy, as
the chorus expresses both intra-dramatic and extra-dramatic voices within
any given play.176 However, distinguishing between these voices is not al-
ways so easy. While the extra-dramatic voice of the chorus is often thought
to be heard when the chorus is thought to offer a comment, reflection, etc.
inconsistent with its persona as a character in the drama, there exists no
standard methodology by which to determine consistency in this regard.177
In addition, any consideration of the chorus’ expressions of an extra-
dramatic voice is complicated by the question of whose extra-dramatic
voice is actually being represented by the chorus. Because the extra-
dramatic voice of the chorus is so prominent throughout Classical tragedy,
and it is not immediately clear whose actual voice is represented by it,
these questions have continued to yield various answers.

The Chorus as “Ideal Spectator”

The Romanticist scholar and poet August Wilhelm Schlegel first suggested
in 1809 that the chorus functioned as a kind of surrogate for an audience
member, insofar as its reactions to the dramatic action would have been a
reflection of audience members’ own reactions. In other words, the chorus’
reflections on the dramatic events, sympathies with the main characters,
and evaluations of the events in terms of mythical-historical, philosophical,
and theological contexts, constituted “lyrical and musical expressions of
[the audience members’] own emotions.”178 According to Schlegel, the
chorus’ reactions were not merely reflections of the audiences’ own sym-

175
Mastronarde, The Art of Euripides, 89.
176
“An unjaundiced survey of the evidence could not overlook the precipitous turn-
abouts in the choral role – from sympathetic concurrence to moral aloofness, from the
didactic narration of myth to the somber enunciation of prayer, from the formal but lowly
service of heralding entrances to the equally formal authority of pronouncing γνῶµαι –
not to mention the clear cases of moral or political inconstancy marking some of the
Euripidean choruses.” Rosenmeyer, “Elusory Voices,” 559.
177
Fletcher summarizes the consequences of this: “… in most cases where one scholar
detects inconsistency, another is able to defend the unity of choral character.” Judith
Fletcher, “Choral Voice and Narrative in the First Stasimon of Aeschylus’ Agamemnon,”
Phoenix 53.1/2 (1999): 29, n. 3. Some have attempted to identify the extra-dramatic
voice of the chorus in those instances where the chorus uses a first-person singular pro-
noun in place of the plural, though this approach has not won widespread support. See,
for example, Thomas G. Rosenmeyer, “Irony and Tragic Choruses,” in Ancient and Mod-
ern: Essays in Honor of Gerald F. Else (ed. John H. D’Arms and John William Eadie;
Ann Arbor: University of Michigan Press, 1977), 39–40; Fletcher, “Choral Voice,” 29–49.
178
August Wilhelm Schlegel, cited in Marvin Carlson, Theories of the Theatre (Ithaca,
N.Y.: Cornell University Press, 1993), 179.
 5.3 The Functions of Tragic Choruses in the Classical Period 249

pathies, but symbiotic so far as the chorus’ reflections, contextualization of

the surrounding action, etc., “elevate[d the audience member] to the region
of contemplation” of the dramatic events.179 In other words, in Schlegel’s
view the chorus led the audience to adopt the reaction to, and an under-
standing of, the plight of the protagonist and the surrounding dramatic
action as the chorus did. In this way, Schlegel understood the chorus to
function as a kind of “ideal spectator.”
Perhaps the biggest obstacle to accepting Schlegel’s interpretation is the
notion that audience members would have had a monolithic reaction to the
dramatic events, and would have consistently adopted the viewpoint of the
chorus in terms of their reactions, reflections, etc., to the dramatic events.
Such is the gulf that exists between a Romanticist interpretation of the re-
ception of drama and the methodologies which guide theories of dramatic
reception today. Nevertheless, it would be hard to overstate the influence
of Schlegel’s formulation in subsequent discussions of the function(s) of
the dramatic chorus.180 Schlegel provided a framework for considering the
chorus’ role vis-à-vis the non-choral dramatic action, and the chorus’ role
as a mediator between the drama and the audience, which has proven very
influential even as the notion of the chorus as an “ideal spectator” has been
modified, or abandoned altogether. That is, the question of the chorus’
relation(s) to the non-choral action and to the audience continues to be a
central consideration of most studies of dramatic choruses.
Having moved away from the abstract idea that the voice of the chorus
in tragedy somehow represents, and at the same time shapes, an ideal audi-
ence member, modern scholars have considered other possible sources of
the voices of the chorus, including notions that the voice is: (1) the author’s
himself; (2) the voice of the community; and/or (3) an “Implicit Spectator.”

The Chorus as the Voice of the Poet

Many have considered the extra-dramatic voice of the chorus, at least at
times, to be none other than the poet’s own voice.181 Of course, at some

179
Ibid., 179.
180
The idea that the chorus functioned as an “ideal spectator” had an extremely long
shelf-life, dominating scholarship for nearly 150 years after Schlegel first proposed it. It
was not until Müller’s publication of “Chor und Handlung bei den griechischen Tragi-
kern,” in 1967 that the position was really challenged. See Gardiner, The Sophoclean
Chorus, 2, n. 2.
181
“The choral odes of Sophocles express, like all parts of the plays but often in
special degree, his own interpretation of the action … He uses the chorus … as his own
mouthpiece.” Reginald P. Winnington-Ingram, “Clytemnestra and the Vote of Athena,”
JHS 88 (1949): 132; cf. Gordon M. Kirkwood, A Study of Sophoclean Drama (Ithaca:
Cornell University Press, 1958), 186; Rosenmeyer, “Elusory Voices,” 561–564. Rosen-
meyer, “Irony and Tragic Choruses”; Fletcher, “Choral Voice.”
250 Chapter 5: Form/Functions of Tragic Choruses: Classical Period

level, the voice of the chorus is always the playwright’s insofar as the
words, actions, music, etc., of the chorus were wholly determined by him.
At issue, however, are those instances in which the chorus appears to speak
(or, more often, sing) in a manner that appears out of character. It is
thought by many that in such instances the poet’s own opinions are
reflected in the chorus’ words.
The notion that the chorus represented the voice of the poet is supported
in the ancient record by a scholion on Euripides, Med. 823, which claims
that the chorus took on the “persona” or “presence” of the poet.182 In addi-
tion, the voice of the poet was conspicuous in the chorus of Classical
comedy.183 While the notion that the poet utilized the chorus to express his
own opinions is supported by external evidence, the criteria used by vari-
ous scholars to identify the voice of the poet in Classical tragedy are
extremely vague. For example, statements that seem to reflect a particular
political, social, or theological view might be traced to the poet. However,
it is virtually impossible to determine that this view represented the author’s
personal opinion(s).184 Complicating matters is the likelihood that if the
poet had wished to express his own voice, i.e., personal opinion, reflection,
commentary, etc., he could have just as easily done so through the medium
of the chorus qua character.185 Put another way, there is no reason to think
that the voices of the chorus in their roles as dramatic characters did not
represent the poet’s own views from time to time. This is all to say that, to
the extent that the playwright controls each of the voices in a given tra-
gedy, it is very difficult to distinguish a voice of the poet that exists some-
how apart from the intra-dramatic voices themselves.186
A related problem concerns the fact that the contents of choral remarks
that seem to stand beyond what the chorus qua characters ought to know is

182
See Roos Meijerink, “Aristophanes of Byzantium and Scholia on the Composition
of the Dramatic Choruses,” in Σχόλια: Studia ad criticam interpretationemque textuum
Graecorum et ad historiam iuris Graeco-Romani pertinentia D. Holwerda oblata (ed.
Willem J. Aerts et al.; Groningen: Egbert Forsten, 1985), 97.
183
Nowhere was the voice of the poet clearer than in the comic parabasis, a formal
element of Classical comedy in which the chorus would serve as a mouthpiece for the
poet to communicate directly to the audience. Thomas K. Hubbard, The Mask of Comedy:
Aristophanes and the Intertextual Parabasis (Ithaca: Cornell University Press, 1991).
184
Goldhill, Reading Greek Tragedy, 267.
185
In this way, the chorus could be said to express a “double-voice,” both as a char-
acter, and as the voice of the poet. Fletcher, “Choral Voice,” 30.
186
Frequently cited examples of instances in which the poet’s own voice is thought to
have emerged in Greek tragedy are the first stasimon of Aeschylus’ Agamemnon, the first
stasimon of Sophocles’ Antigone, and the second stasimon of Sophocles’ Oedipus Rex.
See Kranz, Stasimon, 120–121, 170–171; Burton, The Chorus in Sophocles’ Tragedies,
85; Max Pohlenz, Die griechische Tragödie: Erläuterungen (2 nd ed.; Göttingen: Vanden-
hoeck & Ruprecht, 1954), 92–93; Rosenmeyer, “Elusory Voices,” 562–563.
 5.3 The Functions of Tragic Choruses in the Classical Period 251

often more substantial than what could reasonably be traced to a particular

individual such as the poet. That is, the chorus may offer a summary of the
Trojan War, the family line of Agamemnon, or details of the shield of
Achilles, which could not be said to represent the voice of a single individ-
ual. Rather, such information appears to have been culled from the collec-
tive historical, mythical, ethical, civic, and religious consciousness of an
Athenian citizen in the 5th century.

The Chorus as the Voice of the Community

One cannot evaluate the voice of the poet as if it were an autonomous voice
disconnected from the wider social, civic, and religious institutions in 5th
century Athens, as it was to a large extent these institutions that “pre-
determine[d] the possible ‘creative’ area of the individual poet,” and thus
influenced his voice as it was expressed in drama, through the chorus or
elsewhere.187 Thus, inasmuch as the chorus reflected the voice of the poet,
it is also necessarily reflected the voice of the community that shaped the
poet.
The voice of the community may be more directly evident, however, in
much of the choral content in Greek tragedy. We have seen, for instance,
how often in the choral odes there appear (variations of) traditional choral
songs. Just as often, through these songs and by other means, the myths of
the gods, and the mythical-historical exploits of the heroes of the Greek
imagination are re-told. Insofar as the chorus “preserve[s], transmit[s], and
explore[s] the values of society” as they are expressed in these choral
forms, and in the re-tellings of traditional myths, scholars have considered
the chorus to have functioned as a kind of voice of the community.188

187
In addition to the fact that the poet was influenced implicitly by the social, civic,
and religious institutions of which he was a part, the notion that the poet exercised auton-
omy over his dramatic output is undermined by the fact that his drama was always the
product of a number of explicit communal mechanisms. That is, “… the author is but one
of the mechanisms of dramatic production, located between two acts of selection: the
preliminary selection (we would perhaps hesitate to call it preventive censorship) admin-
istered to his text-outline, on which depends the possibility that his text, when perfected
in a script, will see the light (will be perfected on stage), and the subsequent selection
made by the public (or more precisely the jury, chosen from the public according to pro-
cedures strictly analogous to those used for political proceedings) … In other words: the
concepts of artistic autonomy, of creative spontaneity, of the author’s personality, so dear
to bourgeois esthetics, must be radically reframed, when speaking of Greek theatre, by
considerations of the complex institutional and social conditions within which the
processes of literary production in fact took place.” Oddone Longo, “The Theater of the
Polis,” in Nothing to Do with Dionysus? Athenian Drama in Its Social Context (ed. John
J. Winkler and Froma I. Zeitlin; Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1992), 14–15.
188
Goldhill, Reading Greek Tragedy, 271.
252 Chapter 5: Form/Functions of Tragic Choruses: Classical Period

The community’s voice might be recognized in the chorus in more

subtle ways. Some have argued that insofar as the theatre itself was a space
for expressing, depicting, and questioning various social dynamics (rela-
tionships, behaviors, customs, beliefs, etc.), the chorus’ collective presence
represented the voice of the community over and against the distinctive
voices of individual characters. The chorus, whose voice represented “the
feelings of the spectators who make up the civic community,” may have
functioned within drama to provide an ideological contrast with individual
actors whose voices represent past heroes that are more or less “estranged
from the ordinary condition of the citizen.”189 In this vein, Vernant and
Vidal-Naquet have argued that the chorus embodied “the collective truth,
the truth of the mean, the truth of the city,” which is set over and against
the “excess” of the protagonists in tragedy. 190
The notion that the chorus represented the voice of the community
depends largely on the premise that the chorus somehow represented the
audience, and that the audience would have easily and consistently identi-
fied with the views of the chorus. The notion that the audience would have
identified with the chorus might be supported on the grounds that the
dramatic chorus actually did represent a cross-section of (male Athenian)
citizens. Moreover, the audience and chorus shared a similar spatial
vantage point vis-à-vis the dramatic action of the protagonists, apart from
the actors in the theatron and orchestra, respectively,191 as well as a col-

189
E.g., “… [the chorus’] role is to express through its fears, hopes, questions and
judgements, the feelings of the spectators who make up the civic community.” By con-
trast, the actor, who represents “a hero from an age gone by … [is] always more or less
estranged from the ordinary condition of the citizen.” Vernant and Vidal-Naquet, Tragedy
and Myth in Ancient Greece, 10.
190
According to Vernant and Vidal-Naquet, the character of Eteocles in Aeschylus’
Seven against Thebes well represents this phenomenon. Prior to the news of Polyneices’
siege of Thebes, Eteocles embodied “all the virtues of moderation, reflection and self-
control that go to make up the statesman.” Not coincidentally, at this point in the drama
the chorus of Theban girls is presented in contrast to Eteocles as gripped with the fear
that might be expected of them as they are being surrounded by an opposing army. Once
Eteocles hears of the impending invasion, however, his “moderate” character is trans-
formed into a “murderous madness” that disassociates him from the ideals of the demo-
cratic city and links him to “another world rejected by that of the polis: he becomes once
again the Labdacid of legend, the man of the noble gene, the great royal families of the
past that are weighed down by ancestral defilement and curses.” Though Vernant and
Vidal-Naquet are not explicit about this, it is precisely at this point that the chorus trans-
forms itself into a voice of moderation, of impassioned pleas that counter the possessed,
hubristic, mania of Eteocles. In this way, the chorus has come to represent the voice of
democratic moderation over and against the excesses demonstrated in the character of
Eteocles. See Vernant and Vidal-Naquet, Tragedy and Myth in Ancient Greece, 10ff.
191
“… during long stretches of its presence, the chorus must have stood (or knelt or
crouched) to face the actors, doing little more than observing and listening in the same
 5.3 The Functions of Tragic Choruses in the Classical Period 253

lective identity over and against the individual actors who represented the
protagonists. In these ways, the chorus could be considered an “internal
analogue,” or a “staged metaphor,”192 for the spectators in the theatre,193
which lends credence to the notion that the chorus represented the voice of
the community, and that the audience would have identified with it.194

The Chorus as “Other”

In response to the notion that the chorus represented a voice that would
have been easily associated with the community at large, many scholars
have recognized that dramatic choruses most often represented those who
are best characterized as marginalized members of society: women, for-
eigners, etc. At the very least, tragic choruses never nominally represented
a broad cross-section of the Athenian citizenry, let alone a cross-section of
the theatre-going audience, which likely included women and children. On
the contrary, by convention choruses represented a small cross-section of
the populace, and very rarely those who represented the majority of folks
who likely attended the theatre: Athenian adult males in their prime. The
chorus not only depicted marginalized characters, but also sung and spoke
in a non-Attic dialect that may have further distanced the audience from it.
As such, an audience of 5th-century tragedy may not have as easily or
quickly identified with the voice of the characters that are represented by
the chorus in Greek tragedy, but rather may have identified the voice of the
chorus instead as representing the “excluded, the oppressed, and the vul-
nerable.”195 Such a view is critically undermined, however, by the fact that

way that the audience did.” Mastronarde, The Art of Euripides, 94. However, when the
chorus and actors interacted, it is unclear how often the actors and chorus performed
together in the orchestra, or the proximity of the chorus to the actors, in the 5th-century
theatre.
192
Longo, “The Theater of Polis,” 17.
193
“Communicatively, the chorus and its leader are authorized to interact with and
react to the actors within the formal conventions of song or change and (much more re-
strictedly) of iambic dialogue, while the theatrical audience observes the same events with
a range of participation that may have varied from polite contemplation and silent emotion
to involuntary gasps, spontaneous hisses, and even, occasionally, the catcalls and heckl-
ing of the most boisterous or boorish members.” Mastronarde, The Art of Euripides, 94.
194
Clearly, the chorus was not always a spectator – primarily or at all – in this sense,
and such a view underestimates, or altogether neglects, the extent to which the chorus
participated in the dramatic action.
195
“… the ‘otherness’ of the chorus … resides indeed in its giving collective ex-
pression to an experience alternative, even opposed, to that of the ‘heroic’ figures who
most often dominate the world of the play; however, they express, not the values of the
polis, but far more often the experience of the excluded, the oppressed, and the vulner-
able. That ‘otherness’ of experience is indeed tied to its being the experience of a ‘com-
munity,’ but that community is not that of the sovereign (adult, male) citizen-body.” John
254 Chapter 5: Form/Functions of Tragic Choruses: Classical Period

choral utterances reasonably identified as extra-dramatic, i.e., those that

are understood to represent the voices other than those of the (sometimes
marginal) dramatic characters who convey them, do, in fact, most often
reflect views that are best characterized as the collective wisdom, history,
and traditions of the Athenian citizenry. In other words, reflections that
might be thought to represent a marginal group can be understood in terms
of the chorus’ role as a marginal character, not as the extra-dramatic voice
of the “other.”

The Chorus as Implied Audience

Underlying each of these theories is the notion that choral utterances actual-
ly represented, and can be reasonably traced to, a particular extra-dramatic
viewpoint, be it the community, the playwright, an “Ideal Spectator,” or a
marginal societal group. The voice of the chorus can be gainfully con-
sidered, however, apart from the question of whether it ultimately derived
from and represented the views of a particular extra-dramatic personage or
collective body. One way to do this is to consider the chorus in terms of its
function as an “implied spectator” in the drama. In such a view, which
derives from the theory of the “implied reader/audience” in modern literary
and theatre criticism,196 one of the primary functions of the chorus can be
understood to lie in its capacity to lead the audience to a particular under-
standing of the dramatic action. In such a view, the chorus’ responses to,
and reflections upon, the surrounding dramatic events, are understood to be
chosen by the author primarily in order to lead the audience towards a
particular understanding of the dramatic events.197 The audience may be
led, say, to sympathize with the plight of the protagonist in light of the
chorus’ sympathetic position towards him/her, or to adopt the philosophi-
cal understanding of a particular situation as it is advocated by the chorus.
The notion of the chorus as an implied spectator thus shares similarities
with the notion of the chorus as an “ideal spectator.” However, the notion

Gould, “Tragedy and Collective Experience,” in Tragedy and the Tragic (ed. Michael S.
Silk; Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1996), 388–389.
196
Literary theorists distinguish the “implied audience,” or the audience envisaged in
the text, from the “model audience” conceived by the author to deal interpretively with
the text in the same way that the author deals generatively with them, and from the
“empirical” audience that actually engages a given text. See Luigi Battezzato, “Lyric,” in
A Companion to Greek Tragedy (ed. Justina Gregory. Malden, Mass.: Blackwell Pub-
lishing, 2005), 154. Cf. Peter J. Rabinowitz, “Other Reader-Oriented Theories,” in From
Formalism to Poststructuralism (ed. Raman Selden; vol. 8 of The Cambridge History of
Literary Criticism, ed. Hugh Barr Nisbet and Claude Rawson; Cambridge: Cambridge
University Press, 1995), 375–403; Carlson, Theories of the Theater.
197
Such a view thus accounts for the fact the chorus often does not maintain a consist-
ent voice throughout a given play.
 5.4 Trends in the Function(s) of the Chorus in the Classical Period 255

of the chorus as an implied spectator assumes that the chorus offered re-
flections on the surrounding dramatic action in such a way that would have
elicited various reactions from the actual audience. The audience may not
always (or ever) adopt the chorus’ position as its own. The audience may
reject the position of the chorus if, for example, the audience believes the
chorus to have been misguided about the course of events, or to have given
a conspicuously wrong impression of the current dramatic circumstances.198
In this way, the chorus’ utterances may not have always determined the
audience’s response, but provoked the audience “to engage in constant
renegotiation of where the authoritative voice does lie.”199 In such a view,
the theatre audience is not presumed to have responded monolithically to
the dramatic events, nor necessarily even according to the intentions of the
playwright. Rather, it assumes that the audience would have reacted vari-
ously to dramatic events, and to a certain extent independently from the
author’s original intentions, with the chorus functioning as a kind of con-
versation partner with whom to consider the dramatic events.

5.4 Trends in the Function(s) of the Chorus

in the Classical Period

To this point, I have considered some of the categories with which the
functions of dramatic choruses are typically evaluated across 5th-century
tragedy, demonstrating that many of the functions of dramatic choruses are
considered in similar terms throughout the Classical period. And yet,
choral functionality was not static throughout the Classical period. (It was
not, as we have seen, static even within the course of a single tragedy!)
Thus, I will consider some of the most significant developments in the
functions of tragic choruses throughout the 5th century, with an eye to-
wards the forthcoming discussion of choral functionality in the Hellenistic
and Roman periods.200 In the simplest terms, the role of the chorus appears
to have diminished throughout the 5th century, a phenomenon that can be
demonstrated in both quantitative and qualitative terms.

198
Mastronarde, The Art of Euripides, 106–114. Cf. Luigi Battezzato, “Lyric,” 154ff.
199
Simon Goldhill, The Oresteia (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1992), 20.
200
It must be acknowledged here again that my conclusions as to trends in choral
forms and functions in Classical tragedy are limited by the realization that the surviving
data may not represent choral forms and functions in tragedy as a whole. That is, the
surviving work of the three tragedians constitutes only a small portion of tragedy that
was actually produced and performed in the Classical period. Because the totality of this
data is not available, it is not possible to say with certainty that the trends evident in the
works of Aeschylus, Sophocles, and Euripides, represent trends across Classical tragedy.
256 Chapter 5: Form/Functions of Tragic Choruses: Classical Period

5.4.1 Quantitative Decline

The number of lines given to the chorus as a percentage of the overall lines
in tragedy decreases throughout the 5th century. As a consequence, choral
participation during scenes diminishes as does the length of choral songs
in-between scenes. At the same time, the quantitative decline in the num-
ber of lines given to the chorus in later tragedy coincides with a qualitative
decline in the importance of the chorus to the tragic plot.
The decline in the role of the chorus throughout the 5th century can be
demonstrated quantitatively in terms of the number of lines given to the
chorus by each of the three tragedians. In Aeschylus’ extant plays, the
chorus typically performs around 40% of the total lines,201 while the
chorus is given on average roughly 20% of the total lines in the plays of
Sophocles and Euripides.202 This quantitative reduction clearly coincides
with the introduction of the third actor in Sophocles.203 At any rate, the
decline in the total number of lines given to the choruses in the tragedies of
Sophocles and Euripides is brought to bear especially on the choral odes,
which tend to be much smaller than those of Aeschylus. For instance, the
parodoi in Aeschylus’ tragedies, which can run upwards of 200 lines,
appear colossal in comparison to most of those of Euripides, the shortest of
which runs approximately 12 lines.204 Certainly the function(s) of the
chorus cannot be measured entirely on the basis of how many lines they
sing, but this does demonstrate a trend towards the diminished role of the
chorus in the latter part of the 5th century.

5.4.2 Qualitative Decline

A qualitative decline in the importance of the tragic chorus can be seen in
the tendency for roles that were once reserved for the chorus to be trans-
ferred to the actors. For example, background information, summary of the
present circumstances, and foreshadowing of plot developments, which
were typically conveyed through the chorus in the parodos in Aeschylus,
was increasingly offered by the actors prior to the entrance of the chorus in

201
The largest percentage of lines given to the chorus in Aeschylean drama is 60% in
Suppliants.
202
A decline in the number of lines given to the chorus as a percentage of the total
lines of the play is also evident in the last two choruses of Aristophanes, Women of the
Assembly and The Rich Man. In contrast to Aristophanes’ Acharnians and Birds, for
example, in which the chorus constitutes 25% and 23% of each play, respectively, the
choruses in Women of the Assembly and The Rich Man account for 8% and 4% of the
total lines of each play, respectively.
203
Aristotle, Poet. 1449a.
204
While short odes are fairly common in Euripides, they occasionally approach the
length of some of the shorter odes of Aeschylus.
 5.4 Trends in the Function(s) of the Chorus in the Classical Period 257

the tragedies of Sophocles and Euripides.205 A consequence of this devel-

opment is that the choral parodos becomes less essential to the forward
movement of the dramatic action. A good example of this is the parodos of
Sophocles’ Oedipus Rex, which essentially constitutes a re-telling of the
prologue/dialogue of Oedipus and the Priest. New details are not offered
by the chorus, and the chorus is not responsible for foreshadowing the
dramatic plot.
So, too, were lyric elements (i.e., singing in lyric metrical systems,
according to patterns of strophic responsion, and likely to the accompani-
ment of an instrument such as the aulos) increasingly transferred from the
chorus to the actors. In the tragedies of Aeschylus, lyric elements were
offered almost exclusively by the chorus in the form of the parodos,
stasima, and exodus, with the exception being an occasional lyric dialogue
between actors and the chorus.206 In the tragedies of Sophocles and Euri-
pides, however, lyric dialogues between actors and the chorus and actors
increased dramatically, often taking the place of an exclusively choral
stasima, with the result that wholly choral lyrics increasingly constituted a
lower percentage of the total lyrics. A further development occurred when
lyric dialogue began to take place exclusively between actors, thereby
eliminating altogether the chorus in these lyric exchanges.207 The chorus
became even further distanced from the performance of lyrics in Euripidean
tragedy as actors began to sing solo lyric monodies.208 While in Aeschylus
and Sophocles there are no examples of a single actor singing alone, sever-
al solo lyric monodies are evident in Euripides.209
As the activities of the actors increase in Sophoclean tragedy, and
further increase in Euripidean tragedy, the participation of the chorus

205
It should also be noted that even in Aeschylus the chorus was not solely respon-
sible for providing these narrative elements, as non-choral characters often provided
background information and/or a synopsis of the present circumstances. The point is that
this function is increasingly transferred from the chorus to the actors over the course of
the 5th century.
206
The single occurrence of non-choral lyric in material attributed to Aeschylus is the
protagonist alternating spoken and sung lines in the parodos of Prometheus Bound.
Aeschylus, [Prom.] 88–127.
207
See Andújar, “The Chorus in Dialogue,” 18ff.
208
Edith Hall, “Actor’s Song in Tragedy,” in Performance, Culture, and Athenian
Democracy (ed. Simon Goldhill and Robin Osborne; Cambridge: Cambridge University
Press, 1999), 96–124; Edith Hall, “The Singing Actors of Antiquity,” in Greek and Roman
Actors: Aspects of an Ancient Profession (ed. Pat Easterling and Edith Hall; Cambridge:
Cambridge University Press, 2002), 3–38; Elizabeth J. Beverley, “The Dramatic Function
of Actor’s Monody in Later Euripides” (D.Phil. diss., Oxford University, 1997).
209
E.g., Hippolytus’ astrophic monody in Euripides, Hipp. 1347–1388; Cassandra’s in
Euripides, Tro. 308–341; Creusa’s in Euripides, Ion 859–922; Andromache’s in Euripi-
des, Andr. 103–116. On monodies in Euripides, see Battezzato, “Lyric,” 153.
258 Chapter 5: Form/Functions of Tragic Choruses: Classical Period

decreases. As this occurred, the center of gravity in Greek tragedy shifted

from the chorus and its interactions with the actors to the interactions
between actors. For example, while characters in Aeschylean tragedy con-
ventionally addressed the chorus upon entering the scene, signaling the
fact that dramatic action was centered on the chorus and its interactions
with the other characters,210 actors in Sophoclean and Euripidean tragedy
increasingly addressed other actors, signaling the fact that the focus of
dramatic action had shifted to them.

Detachment of the Chorus from the Surrounding Dramatic Action

One of the most conspicuous ways in which the role of the chorus
diminished in tragedy can be observed in the increasing detachment of the
content of choral stasima from the surrounding dramatic action. This
detachment, which can be detected in a few of Sophocles’ choral odes, and
which becomes much more prevalent in the odes of Euripides’ tragedies, is
exhibited in two related ways. First, as we have already seen in the case of
choral parodoi in Sophoclean and Euripidean tragedy, the chorus less
frequently offers information in the odes critical to advance the dramatic
action, such as providing background information relevant to the plot(s)
and/or character(s), synopses of the current dramatic circumstances, and
foreshadowing turns in the plot, as these functions are increasingly trans-
ferred to the actors.211 Rather, the choral odes increasingly function to
reflect upon the surrounding material, frame it, and/or cast it in a particular
mythical, philosophical or theological light. However, the chorus’ reflec-
tions upon, and framing of, the surrounding material, also become increas-
ingly less related to the immediate dramatic context. That is, while the re-
flections and framing mechanisms of the chorus in Aeschylus’ undisputed
tragedies tend to exhibit an integral relation to the immediate dramatic
action, either by reflecting directly upon the immediate circumstances of
the protagonist, the events which have led to the current circumstances, or
the consequences of possible actions given the present circumstances, the
contents of the choral odes of Sophocles’ and Euripides’ tragedies are
often only tangentially related to the immediately surrounding dramatic
action.212

210
For a brief discussion, see Taplin, Stagecraft of Aeschylus, 86–87.
211
It should be noted that the chorus’ role to advance the dramatic action by intro-
ducing characters remains constant throughout the Classical period.
212
A similar detachment of the chorus is evident in the last two plays of Aristophanes.
In fact, the detached chorus in these plays is precisely one of the reasons they are
considered to have represented a shift in generic form of comedy at the end of the 5th
century, i.e., from Old Comedy to Middle Comedy.
 5.4 Trends in the Function(s) of the Chorus in the Classical Period 259

The third stasimon in Euripides’ Helen offers an example of an ode that

is only tenuously connected with the surrounding dramatic context (1301–
1368). The ode consists of a hymn to the “Mother of the Gods,” who is
clearly identified in the hymn as Demeter. The hymn presents a cursory
sketch of the story of Demeter and Persephone, recounting Hades’ snatch-
ing of Persephone (1301–1313), Demeter’s futile pursuit of her daughter
and the famine that resulted from it (1319–1337), and the act of Zeus that
reunited Persephone with her mother (1338–1352). The end of the ode
loosely connects the hymn with the plight of Helen, by suggesting that it
can be attributed to her failure to honor Demeter with sacrifices (1355–
1357). But only in this way is the hymn connected at all to the plot.
The second stasimon of Euripides’ Electra, which consists of the re-
telling of the myth of Thyestes, Atreus and the golden-fleece, demonstrates
another ode that is only minimally connected with the surrounding plot.
The ode recounts the discovery in Mycenae of the lamb with the golden-
fleece (699–712), the illicit affair between Thyestes and Atreus’ wife by
which Thyestes steals the golden-fleece (718–726), and the story of Zeus’
subsequent changing the course of the sun, which registered Zeus’ dis-
pleasure with Thyestes’ theft and restored the fleece to Atreus (727–736).
The chorus then reflects on the myth, claiming that it represents the kind of
stories that mortals tell, stories whose subject-matter of the punishment of
the gods cause them to worship the gods. The final words of the ode con-
nect the myth to the present circumstances of Electra:
But fearful tales benefit mortals,
making them worship the gods,
the gods you forgot, kinswoman of glorious brothers,
when you murdered your husband (743–746).

With this turn, Euripides has established a connection between the ode and
the plot, though it is clearly a superficial one, as the content of the ode is
completely unrelated to the course of events in the drama. In other words,
the re-telling of virtually any tragic myth would have sufficed to provide
an exigency for the chorus’ claim in the final lines that the gods have been
forgotten.
The third stasimon in Euripides’ Iphigenia at Tauris provides an ex-
ample of an ode whose connection to the surrounding action is even further
removed, and not related even superficially to a character or to the plot
(1234–1283). The ode consists entirely of a hymn to Apollo, which re-
counts his having been brought by his mother Leto to Delphi (1234–1244),
his conquering of the dragon that guarded the oracular shrine (1245–1258),
his jealousy over the fact that his oracular duties were shared by Themis
(1259–1269), and his successful supplication to Zeus for full oracular
authority (1270–1283). This hymn to Apollo is related to the larger context
260 Chapter 5: Form/Functions of Tragic Choruses: Classical Period

of the play only insofar as Apollo has figured elsewhere in the background
of the play;213 yet, the hymn could hardly be said to relate in any way to
the immediate dramatic circumstances of the characters or the plot, insofar
as the story of Apollo and Themis has no bearing on the plot-sequence,
none of the other characters in the drama are mentioned or alluded to, no
character is introduced. Nor is there offered any kind of history of the
events which led to the current circumstances, a synopsis of the current
dramatic circumstances, or a foreshadowing of future events. Rather, the
ode is almost entirely severed from the surrounding context.
The detachment of choral odes from their dramatic context is especially
apparent in the exodoi of Euripidean tragedy. Generally speaking, the role
of the chorus in the final scene(s) of his play(s) is reduced, and the choral
contributions at the end of the play most often consist of pithy kernels of
conventional wisdom that have little relevance to the particulars of the
tragedy. For instance, the exodos in Electra: “Farewell! Whoever of mortals
is able to fare well and does not suffer from some misfortune enjoys a
blessed fate” (Euripides, El. 1357–1359). Compare the generalized content
of the exodos of Ion: “If anyone’s house is tormented by misfortunes, they
should revere the gods and have no fear: for in the end, the noble receive
the good fate they deserve, while the base, as suits their nature, would
never fare well” (Euripides, Ion 1519–1522). The contents are not reflec-
tive of the particular dramatic events that conclude the play, and could just
as easily conclude any tragedy. The view that the exodos had become in
Euripidean tragedy a formulaic conclusion with little relevance to the plot
is best demonstrated by the fact that Euripides concludes several plays
with nearly verbatim repetition of the very same phrase:
The dispositions of the gods take many forms; the gods bring many things to fulfillment
unexpectedly. What was expected has not been fulfilled, but god found a way for the
unexpected. Such is the outcome of this affair.214

These examples demonstrate some of the ways in which choral odes could
be detached from the surrounding dramatic contexts in Sophoclean and
(especially) Euripidean tragedy, a phenomenon which has clear analogues
in the later comedies of Aristophanes,215 and which, as we will see, con-
213
“This [ode to Apollo] does have a rather tenuous contextual motivation in the play;
but the emphasis must be on ‘tenuous’, and it is hard to discern any functional com-
plexity in this ode.” Heath, Poetics, 140.
214
Alc. 1159–1163; Andr. 1284–1288; Hel. 1688–1692; Bacch. 1388–1392; Med. 1415–
1419.
215
The last surviving plays of Aristophanes are thought to represent the beginnings of
Middle Comedy, a period that is identified largely on the basis of the change in the
function of the chorus. That is, in Aristophanes’ The Rich Man (398 B.C.E.) and Women of
the Assembly (392 B.C.E.), the relation of the content of the choral odes to the surround-
ing dramatic action is very minimal. Viewed in terms of a spectrum on which on the one
 5.4 Trends in the Function(s) of the Chorus in the Classical Period 261

tinued in tragedy (and comedy) into the Hellenistic and Roman periods.
Certainly not all odes were so disconnected from the surrounding plot.216
However, the increasing detachment of the choral odes to the surrounding
dramatic action in each of these ways is clear, and has long been recog-
nized. Aristotle, for instance, lamented the fact that choral odes had become
so detached from the plot, and offered a corrective:
The chorus too must be regarded as one of the actors. It must be part of the whole and
share in the action, not as in Euripides but as in Sophocles. In the others the choral odes
have no more to do with the plot than with any other tragedy. And so they sing inter-
ludes, a practice begun by Agathon. And yet to sing interludes is quite as bad as trans-
ferring a whole speech or scene from one play to another (Aristotle, Poet. 1456a).217

The decreasing connection(s) of choral odes to the plot was clearly under-
stood by Aristotle to have been a negative phenomenon, and his sentiments
have been echoed by many modern commentators, who have similarly
understood the increasing detachment of the chorus from the plot to
demonstrate the general decline of the chorus in later Classical tragedy.
However, as we have already seen, the function of choral odes goes
beyond their capacity to reflect upon, and contextualize, the surrounding
dramatic action. Without being integrally related to the surrounding action,
choral odes can function to: (1) decrease dramatic tension, which is
especially likely to have been achieved when the surrounding action was
particular intense; (2) express larger themes of the play; and (3) divide
scenes.218 As the relevance of the choral odes to the surrounding dramatic
action decreases, their functions in these capacities are likely to have
appeared more prominent.

hand is a fully integrated comedic chorus in early Aristophanes (i.e., “Old Comedy”), and
on the other hand a chorus in New Comedy whose odes are completely disassociated
from the plot, the increasingly detached choral role in Middle Comedy appears as a
middle point.
216
Mastronarde has concluded that the ratio of choral stasima in Euripides bearing
very little or no relation to the surrounding dramatic action to those bearing an immediate
connection is 60/40. Mastronarde, The Art of Euripides, 130.
217
Cf. scholiasts who defend Sophocles against similar charges of irrelevance, and
criticize Euripides’ treatment of the choral lyrics in this respect. On Sophocles, Aj. 596a,
1205; Oed. tyr. 463; on Aristophanes, Ach. 443; on Euripides, Phoen. 1019, 1053.
218
“… irrelevance is no hindrance to act-dividing lyric’s achieving its fundamental
purpose” which, clearly for Heath, is to divide acts. Heath, Poetics, 139. For a detailed
discussion of the functionality of Euripidean choral lyrics as they relate to the surround-
ing dramatic action, see Mastronarde, The Art of Euripides, 126–152.
 Chapter 6

Forms and Functions of the Tragic Chorus

in the Fourth Century and Beyond

6.1 The Forms of the Chorus in Post-Classical Tragedy

Before considering in detail some of the formal characteristics of post-

Classical dramatic choruses, it is worth re-stating at this point that the
surviving evidence of tragedies from these periods is extremely slight. With
the exception of the Rhesus, which can be reasonably dated to the 4th cen-
tury, no tragedies survive intact (or even close to intact) until those of
Seneca in the middle of the 1st century C.E. The fragmentary nature of the
evidence in this period thus confounds any investigation into the nature of
tragic choruses, and often precludes anything but very tentative answers
for some of the most basic questions of the nature of tragic choruses in
these periods.
It should be noted first of all that choruses appear to have continued as
requisite elements in Hellenistic and Roman tragedies.1 That choruses
continued to constitute a formal and functional presence in Hellenistic and
Roman tragedies is suggested first of all by the fact that 5th-century tra-
gedies were regularly re-performed in the Hellenistic and Roman periods.
Given the extent to which choruses were integrated in the dramatic action
throughout 5th-century tragedy, it seems improbable that the chorus would
have been excised in these re-performances.2 The continued presence of
the chorus in post-Classical tragedies is further suggested by the fact that
tragic titles continued to be named for the characters represented by the
chorus.3 It seems unlikely that tragedies would have continued to be named

1
That choruses should not have appeared regularly in post-Classical tragedy is sug-
gested by the evidence of Hellenistic and Roman comedy, in which the chorus appears to
have disappeared entirely as a functional element.
2
Although choral stasima may have been excised from some re-performances of 5th-
century tragedies in the Hellenistic period. See Fantuzzi and Hunter, Tradition and
Innovation, 435.
3
For titles in the fourth century and Hellenistic periods, see Sifakis, Studies, 114ff.
On tragic titles in the Republican Roman period, see Manuwald, Roman Republican
Theatre, 138.
 6.1 The Forms of the Chorus in Post-Classical Tragedy 263

for the choruses if choruses were not, in fact, a part of the tragedy. 4 Finally,
the fragmentary evidence confirms the existence of the tragic chorus in
both the Hellenistic and Republican Roman periods,5 while the comments
of several Roman authors suggest the continued role of the chorus in
Roman tragedy. 6

6.1.1 The Constitution of the Chorus and Choral Personnel

As for the actual chorus members, in the Hellenistic period it appears that
choreutai, along with the rest of the personnel required for a dramatic per-
formance, were selected from the ranks of one of the professional guilds of
dramatic performers – i.e., the technitai of Dionysos.7 In Athens, the selec-
tion of the choretuai was managed by the agonothetes, who was singularly
charged with managing all aspects of the dramatic performances,8 includ-
ing the disbursement of public funds to pay for them, selecting the chorus-
trainer, etc. In the Roman period, it appears as if choreutai were likewise
selected from the increasing ranks of professional acting guilds.9
The number of choreutai in the Hellenistic and Roman periods cannot
be determined with certainty, though there are reasons to believe that the
number of choreutai may have decreased. The professionalization of the
theatre personnel may have had a bearing on the number of choreutai that
performed in Hellenistic tragedies (as well as dithyrambs, comedies, etc.),

4
“Plural titles like Agathon’s Mysians … can hardly be explained if they are not to be
taken as implying choruses of Mysians …” Sifakis, Studies, 114.
5
Otto Ribbeck’s compendium of tragic fragments from the Republican period includes
a few dozen verses of choral lyrics. Otto Ribbeck, ed., Scaenicae Romanorum Poesis
Fragmenta, Vol. 1 (Leipzig: Teubner, 1871); cf. Martin Hose, “Anmerkungen zur Ver-
wendung des Chores in der römischen Tragödie der Republik,” in Der Chor im antiken
und modernen Drama (ed. Peter Riemer and Bernhard Zimmermann; Stuttgart: J. B.
Metzler, 1998), 113–137; Sifakis, Studies, 116–124. In the Republican period, choruses
appear so frequently in the fragments that it has been said that Roman tragedy “never
lacked a chorus.” See Edward Capps, “The Chorus in Later Greek Drama,” The American
Journal of Archaeology and of the History of the Fine Arts 10 (1895): 297, esp. n. 19;
Sifakis, Studies, 120–124.
6
For example, Plutarch reports the re-performance of Euripides’ Bacchae in 53 B.C.E.,
which included a chorus, and speaks of the tragic chorus as if it were a living practice.
Plutarch, Cras. 33.3; [Lib. Educ.] 63a. Likewise, Epictetus speaks of the chorus in such a
way as to suggest their continued presence in tragedy. Epictetus, Diss. 3.14.1. Finally,
Vitruvius commented on the fact that choruses performed regularly together with the
actors on the stage. Vitruvius 5.6.2.
7
Jory, “Associations of Actors in Rome,” 224; Lightfoot, “Nothing to Do with the
technitai of Dionysus?,” 215; Paulette Ghiron-Bistagne, Recherches sur les acteurs dans
la Grèce antique (Paris: Société d’Édition ‘Les Belles Lettres’, 1976), 169.
8
In this way, the agonothetes assumed the responsibilities of the Classical choregos.
9
Manuwald, Roman Republican Theatre, 80–90.
264 Chapter 6: Forms/Functions of the Tragic Chorus: 4th C. and Beyond

insofar as the costs associated with maintaining a professional chorus may

have reduced their numbers.10 A fragment attributed to Diogenes of Baby-
lon suggests that the size of the (tragic?) chorus had decreased circa 200
B.C.E., though the exact number of choreutai is not specified.11 A (now
lost) wall-painting from Cyrene of unknown date, which likely depicted a
scene from a Hellenistic (or Roman?) tragedy, appears to depict a chorus
of seven.12 Even less conclusive is the existing evidence with which to
identify specific numbers of choral choreutai in the Roman period.13 Thus,
scholars are undecided as to the size of chorus in these periods.14
Despite the absence of much data for the actual choral performers,
something can be said of the characters represented by the chorus in post-
Classical tragedy. The titles themselves often reveal the identities of the
characters represented by the chorus, e.g., Bacchanals, Danaids, Trojan
Women, Phoenician Women, etc. Further information as to the characters
represented by the chorus in post-Classical tragedy can be inferred from
the knowledge that they were based largely on Classical models. That is,
like their Classical models, the chorus in post-Classical tragedy most likely
took on a subordinate role vis-à-vis the protagonist, often assumed a sym-
pathetic stance with respect to the protagonist, and shared to some extent
in his/her predicament, etc. Such is the case, for instance, in the Rhesus,

10
Ghiron-Bistagne, Recherches sur les acteurs, 169.
11
Stoicorum Veterum Fragmenta: Vol. 3: Chrysippi fragmenta moralia. Fragmenta
Successorum Chrysippi (Berlin/New York: Walter de Gruyter, 2005), 210ff.
12
For a reproduction of the wall-painting, see Bieber, History of the Greek and
Roman Theater, 238, fig. 787. This evidence has to be considered cautiously, as artistic
depictions are notoriously unreliable sources for determining the actual number meant to
be represented.
13
Calder assumes a chorus of between three and seven members in the tragedies of
Seneca. William M. Calder, “The Size of the Chorus in Seneca’s Agamemnon,” CP 70.1
(1975): 33.
14
Questions of the composition and size of tragic choruses in the Hellenistic and Ro-
man periods are complicated by the fact that alternative forms of tragic performances –
i.e., “excerpt” performances, private performances, public recitatio, and private reading –
are known to have taken place alongside full-scale theatrical productions in these
periods. With the exception of private tragic performances, which may have included
some kind of chorus, the chorus would not have performed in these other contexts except
in the imaginations of those hearing or reading descriptions of choral performance in the
tragedies. Thus, while questions of the composition and size of an actual chorus are irrel-
evant in these cases, questions as to the composition and size of the chorus supposed by
the tragedies remain. It seems reasonable that the composition of the chorus would have
been conjured in the imaginations of a non-theatrical audience on the basis of the fact
that they were identifiable in the tragedies themselves. However, there are not as far as I
can tell, clues in the surviving Hellenistic and Roman tragedies themselves that suggest
the implied size of the chorus. As such, non-theatrical audiences may have envisioned
choruses of the sort that they would have seen in the theatre.
 6.1 The Forms of the Chorus in Post-Classical Tragedy 265

whose chorus is comprised of Trojan soldiers under the command of the

protagonist, Hector, and who stand to gain (or lose!) from Hector’s deci-
sions regarding the Greek army.
Identifying those represented by the chorus is more problematic in
Senecan tragedy. Unlike Classical antecedents, in which the identity of the
chorus was most often stated explicitly very early in the drama (e.g., the
parodos), the identity, age, or even sex of the chorus is rarely acknowl-
edged in Senecan tragedy. 15 While the identities of the chorus can never-
theless be ascertained by other means in some instances,16 the lack of
explicit identification of the chorus, explanations as to its relationship to
the protagonist(s), and its purpose in the drama, may reflect the detach-
ment of the chorus from the dramatic plot, a phenomenon which will be
addressed later in the chapter.
Finally, as in Classical tragedy, there are instances in Senecan tragedy
in which a second chorus, i.e., a secondary chorus, appears in addition to
the standard chorus.17 These are always entirely distinct choral characters,
whose formal characteristics can nevertheless be understood in terms of
tragic choruses generally, i.e., homogeneity in terms of gender, age, voca-
tion, locale, social standing, and/or familial status, size, close relation to
one of the main characters, and subordinate status. As in Classical tragedy,
the functions of the secondary chorus deviate from those of the primary
chorus, which will be taken up below.

6.1.2 Spatial Elements: The Chorus in the Hellenistic and Roman Theatre
Position of the Chorus vis-à-vis the Actors
While there is considerable disagreement over whether or not a stage was a
part of the 5th-century theatre, archaeological and artistic evidence, as well
as the testimony of contemporaneous commentators, clearly suggests the
existence of a stage in Hellenistic theatre. The existence of a stage is
brought to bear on the question of the chorus’ proximity to the actors in the
theatre, and it is widely believed that actors occupied the stage, while the
chorus remained in the orchestra.18 Thus, the chorus is most likely separ-
ated from the actors. If this constituted a change from the practice in the
Classical period of the actors and chorus performing together in the
orchestra, it highlights spatially the fact that the locus of dramatic action
was shifting away from the orchestra to the stage, a phenomenon reflected
15
Richard J. Tarrant, Seneca: Agamemnon (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press,
1976), 180ff.; Sutton, Seneca on the Stage, 35.
16
Sutton, Seneca on the Stage, 36–37; Davis, Shifting Song, 39–63.
17
Seneca, Ag. 589–658, 664–781; [Herc. Oet.] 583–699, 700–715; [Oct.] 762–819.
18
E.g., Sifakis, Studies, 113ff.
266 Chapter 6: Forms/Functions of the Tragic Chorus: 4th C. and Beyond

in tragedies at the end of the Classical period and into the Hellenistic
period. Despite being separated from the actors, the chorus would have had
to be in such proximity to the actors so as to carry on dialogue, which was
a common element in tragedy of the Hellenistic period.
The size and depth of the stage only increased in the Roman period,
meaning that the stage increasingly encroached into the space of the
orchestra. At the same time, in his commentary on architecture of the
Roman world, Vitruvius claims that the orchestra itself began to be used
for seating.19 These two facts suggest that the chorus may have performed
together with the actors on the stage in the Roman theatre,20 allowing for
dialogue between chorus and actors.

Choreography
The evidence for choral choreography in post-Classical tragedy is as scant
as it is for 5th-century drama. On one hand, very little is known of the
terms that characterized tragic choral dance. For instance, several Roman
authors labeled the tragic dance emmeleia, though the term is not clearly
defined by any of those who employed it, and so we have no real sense of
what it means.21 Several terms are known from the Roman period that de-
note various dance gestures (schemata) such as “the double,” “flat-hand,”
“the sword-thrust,” etc., the meanings of which can be reasonably inferred
from the terms themselves.22 Likewise, certain gestures known to have
been characteristic in ancient life, e.g., beating the breast and tearing the
hair and garments to express grief, could reasonably be thought to have
been employed in tragedy as required by dramatic circumstances.23
Inferences as to the nature of choral choreography in the Hellenistic and
Roman periods may be made on the basis of evidence in the texts them-
selves. On one hand, if choreographic patterns of the chorus were based to
some extent on metrical patterns in the lyric verse, it stands to reason that
the less complicated choral metrics in the Hellenistic and Roman periods
would have resulted in less complicated choral choreography. The lack of
strophic responsion, in particular, may have decreased the complexity of
choral choreography, inasmuch as the chorus would have no longer
19
Vitruvius 5.6.2; Livy 34.44.5. See Jocelyn, The Tragedies of Ennius, 18.
20
Vitruvius confirms that the chorus shared the stage with the actors. Vitruvius 5.6.2.
Flickinger, The Greek Theater and Its Drama, 78; cf. Jocelyn, The Tragedies of Ennius,
31.
21
For instance, Plato contrasts the peaceful dance of the emmeleia with the warlike
pyrrhic dance, but provides no more detail than this. Plato, Leg. 816b–c. See Lawler, The
Dance of the Ancient Greek Theatre, 59ff.; cf. Ley, Theatricality, 158ff.
22
E.g., the “flat-hand” may have been used for “slapping hands.” Lawler, The Dance
of Ancient Greece, 83.
23
Lawler, The Dance of Ancient Greece, 83.
 6.1 The Forms of the Chorus in Post-Classical Tragedy 267

“turned” and “counter-turned” according to the strophe and antistrophe,

respectively. 24 On the other hand, the chorus may have had less room with
which to move, on account of the encroachment of the stage upon the
orchestra proper in the Hellenistic period, and the likelihood that the
chorus performed with the actors on a stage in the Roman period. These
facts lead most scholars to believe that the nature of choral choreography
in the Hellenistic and Roman periods was either much less sophisticated
than in the Classical period, or altogether non-existent.25

6.1.3 Types of Choral Lyrics in Hellenistic and Roman Tragedy

The Rhesus
The Rhesus testifies to the high-degree of continuity of choral forms early
in the post-Classical period. At the structural level, the chorus is employed
as it was in Classical tragedy: (1) in-between scenes in the parodos,
stasima, exodos, and in lyric dialogue; and (2) during scenes, by making
brief non-dialogical comments and by participating in lyric and non-lyric
dialogue with other characters. Apart from the evidence of the Rhesus,
however, the paucity of surviving data in the Hellenistic and Roman
periods prior to Seneca, and the fragmentary nature of the evidence that
does survive, precludes much from being said as to the precise forms of the
tragic chorus in these periods. Without information as to the surrounding
dramatic context for a choral fragment, it is virtually impossible to deter-
mine where in the tragedy a choral fragment belonged.

Choral Participation within Scenes

What little evidence is available suggests degrees of continuity and diver-
gence with Classical predecessors. For example, the chorus appears to have
continued to participate in dialogue with other actors during scenes. Choral
dialogue is intimated in a fragment of a 4th-century Medea, in which the
chorus is addressed by one of the protagonists: “My dear women, who
inhabit the Corinthian plain of this country …”26 In the absence of a pre-
served choral response, however, it is unclear whether the chorus actually

24
The lack of strophic responsion may have meant that “the chorus no longer engaged
in the complicated, carefully balanced evolutions which had once carried the choreutae
over the broad expanse of the Greek orchestra, but sang and danced without moving
about so much or occupying so much space.” Flickinger, The Greek Theater and Its
Drama, 149.
25
Davis, Seneca: Thyestes, 17.
26
Xanthakis-Karamanos, Studies in Fourth-Century Tragedy, 173–177; Herbert J. M.
Milne, Catalogue of Literary Papyri in the British Museum (London: British Museum,
1927), no. 77; Sifakis, Studies, 114.
268 Chapter 6: Forms/Functions of the Tragic Chorus: 4th C. and Beyond

participated in dialogue with Medea at this point in the play, and much less
what the content or the form of the choral dialogue might have been. At
any rate, actual choral dialogue is attested in a tragic fragment from the
Hellenistic period,27 in which the chorus is explicitly named and partici-
pates in a short non-lyric dialogue with two other characters:
Cassandra: He has thrown the terrible shaft.
Priam: Who my child? Tell me.
Chorus: The Peliotes?
Cassandra: But he has missed!
Chorus: You have said how it is.
Cassandra: Hector is [making his throw?].
Chorus: This is an unlucky contest.
Cassandra: Equally he (Hector) was unlucky.

That this dialogue took place during a scene is suggested by the fact that it
does not exhibit lyric metrical systems, and the conversational content of
the dialogue. Apart from this, little can be determined of the chorus’ role
in the play other than the fact that the chorus does at this point participate
in a non-lyric dialogue with two actors. Such is the evidence for chorus
during scenes in Greek tragedies of the Hellenistic period.
Choral participation within scenes seemingly continued in Republican
Roman tragedy, as attested by several fragments and the testimony of
ancient commentators. For example, the chorus appears to participate in
dialogue with other actors in a fragment of Ennius’ Medea, where the
chorus appears to be responding to the revelation of Medea’s plans,28 and
in a fragment from Ennius’ Thyestes, in which the chorus appears to have
participated in dialogue with one of the protagonists.29 Likewise, a frag-
ment from Pacuvius’ Niptra preserves elements of a dialogue between the
chorus and Ulixes.30 Horace appears to confirm that the chorus continued
to participate within scenes in his commentary on the proper function(s) of
the chorus: Actoris partis chorus officiumque virile defendat (Horace, Ars
193–194). The notion that the chorus “assumed the role of an actor” is
often taken to mean that the chorus participated in the dramatic action
along with the (other) actors during the scenes.31

27
Revel A. Coles, “A New Fragment of Post-Classical Tragedy from Oxyrhynchus,”
BICS 15 (1968): 110–118; cf. Gentili, Theatrical Performances in the Ancient World, 63ff.
28
Eric H. Warmington, ed., Remains of Old Latin. Vol. 1: Ennius and Caecilius
(Cambridge, Mass.: Harvard University Press, 1936), 323, fr. 288.
29
Warmington, Remains of Old Latin, 1:351, 353, Frs. 355 and 361.
30
Joannes D’Anna, ed., M. Pacuvii Fragmenta (Rome: Edizioni dell’Ateneo Roma,
1967), 133–134, fr. 11.
31
Cf. the oft-cited comment of Aristotle, who advocated that the chorus be “regarded
as one of the actors … be part of the whole, and participate in the action” (Aristotle,
Poet. 1456a25). Such a statement, which concerns first of all the role of the chorus
 6.1 The Forms of the Chorus in Post-Classical Tragedy 269

While evidence such as this confirms the presence of the chorus during
scenes in Roman Republican tragedy, it is left to conjecture how frequently
the chorus participated during scenes, and the precise nature of this activ-
ity.32 The meager positive evidence that does exist suggests that the chorus
may have continued to appear during episodes in the Hellenistic and
Roman periods as they did in the 5th century. Moreover, the absence of
ancient commentary specifying changes in choral activity within scenes
may suggest continuity with Classical predecessors.33 At any rate, if sub-
stantive changes did take place with respect to the functions of the chorus
within scenes in the Hellenistic and Roman periods, they are not preserved
in the fragmentary remains nor alluded to in ancient commentaries.
However, the lack of clear data in these periods for several choral
elements common in 5th-century tragedy, e.g., lyric dialogues, kommoi,
non-dialogical choral utterances, etc., casts doubt on whether these choral
elements appeared in post-Classical tragedies as they did in the 5th-century.
Uncertainty as to the nature of choral elements during scenes in post-
Classical tragedy is also fostered by the fact that choruses in Senecan tra-
gedy played a greatly diminished role during scenes, which will be taken
up below.34

Choral Participation in-between Scenes

As we have already seen, the Rhesus testifies to the presence of a choral
parodos, stasima, and exodos, as well as lyric dialogue in-between scenes.
In short, the chorus can reasonably be assumed to have continued to appear
in-between scenes in post-Classical tragedies as it had in the Classical
period. However, there is evidence in several tragic manuscripts from the
Hellenistic period of a radical development in choral stasima, insofar as
they were not actually written into the dramatic script, but indicated simply

singing odes in-between scenes, might also be taken to refer to their functionality within
scenes.
32
E.g., Flickinger, The Greek Theater and Its Drama, 149. Cf. Capps, “The Chorus in
the Later Greek Drama with Reference to the Stage Question,” 297, n. 19.
33
For example, in his discussion of tragic choruses in Ars Poetica 193ff., which
constitutes the most thorough treatment of the subject after Aristotle, Horace does not
mention that choruses had ceased to function during scenes.
34
Likewise, the choral forms evident in the (Hellenistic) New Comedies of Menander,
for which there remains substantial evidence, suggest a diminished choral presence. In
short, the choruses of Menander’s comedy only rarely appeared during scenes, and did so
as a “band of revelers” who did not contribute meaningfully to the dramatic action. Greg-
ory M. Sifakis, “High Stage and Chorus in the Hellenistic Theatre,” BICS 10 (1963): 32;
Sifakis, Studies, 114ff., esp. n. 4; Kenneth J. Maidment, “The Later Comic Chorus,” CQ
29 (1935): 16ff.; Thomas B. L. Webster, Studies in Later Greek Comedy (2nd ed.; New
York: Barnes & Noble, 1970), 59.
270 Chapter 6: Forms/Functions of the Tragic Chorus: 4th C. and Beyond

by the notation “ΧΟΡΟΥ” or “ΜΕΛΟΣ ΧΟΡΟΥ” in-between scenes.35 This

phenomenon is associated with Agathon, whom Aristotle claimed was re-
sponsible for introducing choral odes that were entirely disconnected from
the plot-sequence in the play, i.e., embolima.36 Thus, it is common to refer
to unwritten choral odes as embolima.37 Insofar as these stasima were not
included in the manuscript, it is impossible to determine the precise nature
of the lyrics, though it is imagined that they consisted of a conventional
repertoire of songs, whose content perhaps related to some tragic theme,
such as fate, fortune, hubris, etc., and which could be easily transposed
from one play to the next.38
Of course, the Rhesus itself demonstrates that the practice of inserting
choral embolima in-between scenes was not consistently applied in post-
Classical tragedy. It appears that embolima did not ultimately become
predominant, as confirmed by the evidence of written choral odes in the
Roman Republican fragments of Ennius’ Iphigenia and Medea, as well as
in Senecan tragedy. Moreover, several commentators on the tragic chorus
appear to confirm the role of the chorus in-between scenes in the post-
Classical period. Aristotle, for example, demonstrated his preference for
the use of choral odes in-between scenes that exhibited Sophoclean tenden-
cies over and against Euripidean practices,39 suggesting that in his day
such tragic choruses did exist. Similarly, the comment of the Republican
Roman playwright Accius that Euripides employed choruses “rather
thoughtlessly”40 is understood to confirm the existence of choral odes in-

35
On the manuscript evidence for post-Euripidean tragedies in which these notations
are evident, see Xanthakis-Karamanos, Studies in Fourth-Century Tragedy, 10ff.; Web-
ster, “Fourth Century Tragedy and the Poetics,” 294ff.; Eric W. Handley, “ΧΟΡΟΥ in the
Plutus?,” CQ 3 (1953): 58, n. 3.
36
Aristotle, Poet. 1456a29–30. There are doubts as to whether or not Agathon himself
was ultimately responsible for the introduction of embolima in Greek tragedy, though it is
assumed that by Aristotle’s time they had become so common that he was able to specu-
late as to the origins of the practice. E.g., Flickinger, The Greek Theater and Its Drama,
145ff.; cf. Else, Aristotle’s Poetics, 556; Pierre Lévêque, Agathon (Paris: Les Belles
Lettres, 1955), 140ff.
37
A similar phenomenon occurs, and for which there is much more evidence, in the
New Comedy of Menander, in which the chorus was only ever indicated in-between
scenes by the notation “ΧΟΡΟΥ” or “ΧΟΡΟΥ ΜΕΛΟΣ.” Likewise, there is no indication
of the content of these choral songs, and they are most often thought to be generic
melodies, and unrelated to the specifics of the surrounding dialogue, but comprised rather
of stock hymns, stories of the gods, mythic narratives, etc. Arnold W. Gomme and Fran-
cis H. Sandbach, Menander: A Commentary (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1973),
172; Eric W. Handley, The Dyskolos of Menander (Cambridge, Mass.: Harvard Univer-
sity Press, 1965), 171–172.
38
Xanthakis-Karamanos, Studies in Fourth-Century Tragedy, 10.
39
Aristotle, Poet.1456a25.
40
Warmington, Remains of Old Latin, 1:323.
 6.1 The Forms of the Chorus in Post-Classical Tragedy 271

between scenes in his day. 41 Finally, the absence of any commentary sug-
gesting that choral odes in-between scenes had been discontinued likewise
constitutes an argument ex silentio for their continued presence in Repub-
lican tragedy. 42
Ultimately, the development of choral embolima, taken together with
the dearth of evidence of the chorus within scenes, and the evidence of a
decrease in choral participation in Senecan tragedy, is often taken to rep-
resent the continuation of a decline in the role of the chorus in the post-
Classical period.43 Explanations typically offered for this transformation of
the role(s) of the chorus include: (1) A decline in the 4th c. B.C.E. of the
choregia, the institution responsible for funding a chorus;44 (2) The rise of
individualism, and thus the individual actor, in “post-democracy” Athens;45
and/or (3) The professionalization of actors which rendered amateur
choruses obsolete.46

41
Manuwald, Republican Roman Theatre, 139; Hose, “Anmerkungen zur Verwendung
des Chores,” 135.
42
E.g., Jocelyn: “… it is hard to believe that the despised republican playwrights
abandoned the chorus and that Horace passed over in silence such a diviation from the
Attic practice he so much admired.” Jocelyn, The Tragedies of Ennius, 19.
43
E.g., Sifakis characterizes the evolution of the tragic chorus in the Hellenistic
period as a “decline.” Sifakis, Studies, 113. Xanthakis-Karamanos considers the reduction
of the choral role in post-Classical tragedy to be part and parcel of the “disintegration” of
Classical tragic forms. Xanthakis-Karamanos, Studies in Fourth-Century Tragedy, 6–11.
44
It is thought that political turmoil in Athens at the beginning of the 4th c. B.C.E.
made it less likely that private citizens would be able, or willing, to fund choruses. Peter
J. Wilson, “Leading the Tragic Khoros: Tragic Prestige in the Democratic City,” in Greek
Tragedy and the Historian (ed. Christopher Pelling; Oxford: Oxford University Press,
1997), 81–108; Wilson, The Athenian Institution of the Khoregia; Kenneth Rothwell, Jr.,
“The Continuity of the Chorus in Fourth-Century Attic Comedy,” GRBS 33 (1992): 209–
225.
45
“In the history of Athens choral drama and participatory democracy are coexistent:
when one declines, so does the other … In its dramatic structure, it also marks the virtual
death-knell of the chorus. Although there is still a chorus in this play [Women of the
Assembly], its appearances are spasmodic and perfunctory. The action, as in politics, is
left to the principals …” Arnott, Public and Performance, 24.
46
“A primary cause of the decline is the growth of professionalization in the theater
and the development of new standards in acting, music, and dances, rather than changes
in the constitution of the chorus itself. The chorus continued to be drafted from citizen
amateurs until the abolition of the choregia in the late 4th c. B.C. (…), while music tended
to ever-greater rhythmic and melodic complexity, better suited to a single voice. In con-
trast with highly trained actors, the amateurishness of the chorus became an embarrass-
ment. In addition, the growing taste for realism and more complex plots tended to favor
actors over the chorus.” Csapo and Slater, Context, 351.
272 Chapter 6: Forms/Functions of the Tragic Chorus: 4th C. and Beyond

Developments in the Functions of the Chorus in Senecan Tragedies

The structural contributions of the chorus in Senecan tragedy are in large
part explicable in terms similar to those used to characterize choral roles in
Classical (and post-Classical) Greek tragedy. Choral phenomena occur
both during and in-between scenes, in many of the same forms in which
they occurred in the tragedies of Aeschylus, Sophocles, and Euripides,
e.g., lyric and non-lyric dialogue, as well as non-dialogical choral utter-
ances during scenes, and act-dividing stasima in-between scenes.
There are, however, conspicuous innovations in the use of the chorus in
Senecan tragedy, perhaps most notable of which is the dramatically
decreased role of the chorus, evident both in terms of choral participation
within scenes and in-between scenes. On the one hand, choral participation
within scenes diminished drastically from the standards of Classical tra-
gedy. In only one of Seneca’s plays does the chorus appear during a scene
more than twice,47 and most often it appears only once during a scene
throughout the course of the play. 48 Moreover, most choral participation
within scenes consists of non-lyric dialogue with one actor. In such in-
stances, the chorus functioned in a very mundane fashion (as did non-lyric
dialogue in Classical tragedy), most often speaking no more than one line,
in order to introduce a new character to the stage, or as a dialogue partner
when no other actor is present on-stage with whom to engage the protag-
onist. As in Classical tragedy, the chorus’ function in this regard is consist-
ently, clearly, and wholly subordinate to the actors, insofar as the choral
remarks serve entirely to expedite the dialogue of the protagonists.
So, too, are instances of lyric dialogue during scenes, which represented
the most common contribution of the chorus during scenes in Classical
tragedy, severely diminished in Senecan tragedy, as lyric dialogue occurs
only twice in all of the extant Senecan tragedies.49 Each instance of lyric
dialogue is similar to its Classical forerunners both in terms of formal
elements and the dramatic circumstances in which they occur. That is, each
lyric dialogue occurs at a moment of emotional turbulence, and represents
a response to the news of traumatic circumstances, a kind of ritual lament
typical of the lyric kommos in Classical tragedy. Likewise, both the wholly
lyric form of the dialogue, in which both the chorus and protagonist alter-
nate in lyric verses, and the epirrhematic form, in which the chorus’ lyric
verses alternate with the spoken meters of the protagonist, are represented.
Like other lyric passages in Senecan tragedy, lyric dialogues did not repli-
cate Classical forms insofar as they did not exhibit strophic responsion.

47
The chorus appears twice in Phaedra (404–405; 1244–1246) and thrice in Oedipus
(980–991, 1004–1009, 1040–1041).
48
Herc. fur. 1032–1034; Tro. 166–167; Med. 879–892; Ag. 664–778; Thy. 623–788.
49
E.g., Seneca, Ag. 664–778; Tro. 82–163.
 6.1 The Forms of the Chorus in Post-Classical Tragedy 273

Thus, while it might be said that the structural roles given to the chorus
within scenes are not at all dissimilar to those given to choruses in Classi-
cal tragedy, the chorus in Senecan tragedy clearly performed these roles
much less frequently. The diminished role is evident in quantitative terms,
as the chorus is given only four lines, sixteen lines, and twenty-four lines,
during the acts in Seneca’s Medea, Oedipus, and Phaedra, respectively.50
Even in those tragedies of Seneca in which the chorus participates in an
extended lyric dialogue (Trojan Women and Agamemnon), and in which
the total number of lines given to the chorus during acts is increased
proportionately as a result, the greatly reduced role of the chorus during
scenes is conspicuous vis-à-vis Classical predecessors.
At the same time, the nature of choral activity in-between scenes changed
substantively. In short, the choral parodos and exodos were excised in all
Senecan tragedies, leaving the choral stasima as the only forms of choral
participation in-between scenes. The elimination of the parodos and exodos
coincided with the fact that Senecan tragedies were bookended by five
distinct acts.51 That is, the beginning of the play typically consisted of a
speech given by one of the protagonists, or introductory dialogue amongst
characters, which constituted a definitive Act.52 The chorus still performed
regularly after this introductory Act, but the characteristic elements of the
parodos from Greek tragedy are rarely evident, e.g., the response to some
dramatic exigency such as the pleas of the protagonist, or the introduction
of the chorus and their relationship to the protagonist(s).53 Likewise, it is
unclear whether the chorus actually entered the stage at this point, or
whether they were already present on-stage during the first Act.54 Thus,
50
Mendell, Our Seneca, 132–133.
51
A clarification of terms is in order at this point. In reference to Greek dramaturgy,
the term scene is used to denote the dramatic element consisting of the interaction of
characters and chorus that occurs after the parodos, and in-between stasima. However, in
reference to Latin drama, this dramatic element is referred to as an Act. In Latin drama,
scenes refer to smaller dramatic units within an Act.
52
There is some confusion in the terms used by scholars to describe introductory
phenomena in ancient tragedy. The first speeches and/or dialogue of the protagonists in
Classical tragedy were often so short as to be identified as a prologue, and not an Act.
However, the first speech of the protagonist in Senecan tragedy is sometimes called the
prologue, and also the beginning of the first Act.
53
“The genuine plays of Seneca also fail to distinguish the first from later choral odes
by the means usual in Greek tragedy: self-identification of the chorus, references to the
chorus’ motive for coming to the scene of the play, and so on.” Tarrant, Seneca: Agamem-
non, 180–181.
54
For a summary of the question of the presence or absence of the chorus during
scenes, see Davis, Shifting Song, 38. Of course, any discussion of the chorus in Senecan
tragedy is tempered by the possibility that tragic performance did not include an actual
chorus, or stage for that matter, as many have argued that Seneca’s tragedies were not
meant for full-scale theatrical performance, but rather for public or private recitation.
274 Chapter 6: Forms/Functions of the Tragic Chorus: 4th C. and Beyond

with no formal or functional features to distinguish it from other stasima,

the first song of the chorus in Senecan tragedy is most widely considered
simply a stasimon.
Likewise, Senecan tragedies regularly concluded with a fifth and final
Act, consisting of a speech of one of the protagonists, a dialogue between
actors, or a brief concluding remark of one of the protagonists. This final
Act thus replaced the choral exodos, which in Classical tragedy regularly
served as the formal conclusion to the play. 55 Thus, with the choral par-
odos and exodos altogether eliminated in Senecan tragedy, at least in the
forms in which they regularly appeared in the Classical period, the role of
the chorus in-between Acts was limited almost entirely in-between Acts to
the four stasima that occurred in-between the five Acts.56
Changes in the structural contributions of the chorus affected choral
functionality in Senecan tragedy in a number of ways, about which much
more will be said below.

Multiple (Secondary) Choruses in Senecan Tragedy

The forms of the secondary chorus in Senecan tragedy can be considered
in the same terms as those used to evaluate primary choruses. Secondary
choruses appear both during scenes, to participate in dialogue with the main
characters,57 and in-between scenes, to sing choral stasima.58 Unlike the
secondary choruses in the Classical period, however, which appeared only
once in any given tragedy, in each of those Senecan tragedies in which a
secondary chorus does appear, it appears more than once, and sings differ-
ent types of choral lyrics. For instance, in Seneca’s Agamemnon, the sec-

55
Scholars have debated whether the dramatic structure manifest in Senecan tragedy
was an innovation of Seneca, or was indebted to developments in Hellenistic and Roman
Republican drama. Evidence suggests that a five-act structure may have been common in
post-Aristotelian tragedy, as is most strongly suggested by the five-act structure of Men-
ander’s Dyskolos, and Horace, who assumes a five-act structure. Horace, Ars 189ff. For a
concise summary of the five-act structure in Senecan tragedy, see Tarrant, “Senecan
Drama and Its Antecedents,” 218–221.
56
The case of Phoenician Women presents an interesting case of the reduced role of
the chorus in Senecan drama, insofar as no choral lyrics are included in it at all. While
some have suggested that no chorus was ever intended for the play, others assume that
the play as we now have it merely survives as an incomplete version, and that the choral
lyrics would have been completed eventually once the narrative and dialogue sections had
been completed. In either event, the evidence of the Phoenician Women suggests that the
chorus had become a less integral dramatic component in Seneca’s tragedies, insofar as it
would have been the final element to be composed. Marica Frank, Seneca’s Phoenissae:
Introduction and Commentary (Leiden: Brill, 1995), 8–10; Tarrant, “Senecan Drama and
Its Antecedents,” 221–228.
57
Seneca, [Oct.] 762–819.
58
Seneca, Ag. 589–658; [Herc. Oet.] 583–699.
 6.1 The Forms of the Chorus in Post-Classical Tragedy 275

ondary chorus sings both a choral stasimon (589–658), and participates in

a lyric dialogue with a character during a scene (664–781). This evidence,
though meager, might suggest that the role of the secondary chorus has
become more prominent in Senecan tragedy. The precise functions of the
secondary chorus with respect to the surrounding dramatic action will be
evaluated below.

Hymnic Elements in Senecan Tragedy

As in Classical drama, the lyrics of the chorus in Senecan tragedy some-
times take the form of a hymn. In some cases, hymns can be identified on
the basis of similarities with particular hymnic forms in the wider Greek
and Roman world. For example, the first ode in Medea is a wedding hymn
(epithalamia); the second ode in Oedipus evokes elements of the dithyramb;
etc.59 Others are identified by the inclusion of various generic elements,
i.e., invocation and praise of a deity, a listing of their divine attributes,
exploits, and/or past assistance, and perhaps a specific prayer or petition.
Hymns of various sorts appear throughout Senecan tragedy, although like
most choral elements in Senecan tragedy, they do not appear as often as in
Classical tragedy.

6.1.4 Formal Elements of Tragic Choral Lyrics in Post-Classical Tragedy

Meter/Dialect
Insofar as metrical systems in the post-Classical periods were based on the
principles of Classical Greek meter, the metrical dynamics of Hellenistic
and Roman tragedy can be considered in essentially the same terms. As
such, the fundamental similarities between the metrics of Classical, Hel-
lenistic and Roman tragedies are often recognized.60 At the same time,
however, some striking developments in choral metrical and dialectical
dynamics are evident. For instance, the so-called “Doric” dialectical color-
ing is no longer apparent in the choral lyrics of Hellenistic tragedy. More-
over, choral (and non-choral) lyrics in post-Classical tragedy exhibit less
complicated metrical systems than 5th-century antecedents. Combinations
of metrical systems (polymetry) in choral lyrics are neither as frequent nor

59
See Davis, Shifting Song, 50ff.
60
E.g., the metrics of the Rhesus are entirely compatible with those of Euripides, and
for this reason among others, is often considered to have been the work of Euripides him-
self. Likewise, the metrical dynamics in Ezekiel’s Exagoge are frequently noted for their
similarities with Classical metrics, and those of Euripides in particular. See Jacobson,
Exagoge, 167; John Strugnell, “Notes on the Text and Metre of Ezekiel the Tragedian’s
Exagoge,” HTR 60 (1967): 453.
276 Chapter 6: Forms/Functions of the Tragic Chorus: 4th C. and Beyond

as complex,61 while choral odes throughout Hellenistic drama are consist-

ently astrophic, that is, self-contained, non-repeating, metrical units.62
Finally, it may have been that choral lines were less frequently given in
lyric metrical systems at all. For example, in the Exagoge of Ezekiel, none
of the chorus’ lines are given in a lyric meter.63
Metrical and dialectic trends evident in the choral fragments of Hel-
lenistic tragedies continue in Roman tragedies. For example, choral lyrics
written in Latin did not exhibit particular dialectic tendencies that distin-
guished them from the spoken or sung meters of the actors.64 So, too,
astrophic composition was the norm in the choral lyrics of the Roman
period.65 Accordingly, choral odes were presented in the form of non-
repeating strophes or, more often, in stichic patterns (i.e., the repetition of
lines which are presented in one particular metrical system), even when
lyric metrical systems were employed.66

Musical Elements
Several pieces of evidence point to the notion that the chorus continued to
contribute musically in Hellenistic tragedy. On one hand, as in Classical
tragedy, the appearance of lyric metrics in the choral fragments of Hellen-
istic tragedy most likely denoted sections sung to a musical accompani-
ment. On the other hand, tragic auletes were regularly included in the
records of tragic performances in the Hellenistic period, whose appearance
suggests the role of the aulos to accompany the lyrics of the chorus and
actors.67 Beyond this, very little can be said for certain when it comes to
the nature of musical elements in Hellenistic tragedy, on account of the
lack of internal and external evidence. Perhaps it could be inferred from

61
“Metrically … [lyric in the Hellenistic period] seems from our evidence to have
been more straightforward than much of Pindar or of tragic lyric. It was (sometimes, at
least) astrophic and polymetric. But the metres are easy to analyse. We shall find that this
comparative simplicity is a permanent feature of post-Classical lyric. We shall not face
again such problems as Pindaric and tragic song posed.” West, Greek Metre, 138.
62
Astrophic odes (choral or otherwise) were atypical but evident in the plays of
Aeschylus and Sophocles, and became increasingly common in the later plays of Euripi-
des. Thus, the astrophic lyrics evident in Euripides may represent a development in the
evolution of choral metrics which found completion sometime in the Hellenistic period
with consistently astrophic metrical composition. This is evident not only in dramatic
poetry but non-dramatic poetry as well. Kranz, Stasimon, 229; Ritchie, Authenticity of the
Rhesus, 336–337.
63
This very fact is used to argue that the maidens in the text do not actually constitute
a proper chorus. See Jacobson, Exagoge, 31.
64
Manuwald, Roman Republican Theatre, 327.
65
West, Greek Metre, 176; Tarrant, Seneca’s Thyestes, 31–33.
66
Jocelyn, The Tragedies of Ennius, 33.
67
Sifakis, Studies, 156–165.
 6.1 The Forms of the Chorus in Post-Classical Tragedy 277

the lack of commentary by Hellenistic authors that musical elements con-

tinued in much the same form as they took in the Classical period, as sig-
nificant divergences may have elicited remarks to that effect. That musical
elements in Hellenistic tragedy did not radically differ from Classical
tragedy might also be inferred from the evidence of the 4th-century Rhesus,
whose metrical tendencies, from which musical elements can be inferred,
very closely follow those of the extant Classical tragedies.
However, it is widely believed that the musical elements which accom-
panied choral lyrics were slightly less prominent in Hellenistic tragedy.
This notion is based on two considerations: (1) A belief that the decrease in
the number of choral lyrics as a percentage of overall lines in Classical tra-
gedy would have continued into the Hellenistic periods; and (2) The belief
that actors increasingly performed lyric monodies, the musical dynamics of
which would have impinged upon the musical contributions of the chorus.
Though perhaps reduced slightly in magnitude and scope, the musical
elements of the chorus likely continued to be prominent in Hellenistic
tragedy. This conclusion can be reached on the basis of the fact that music
continued to be an integral element of Roman tragedy. 68 Cicero frequently
commented on the nature and importance of music in the Roman theatre,
which no doubt included the musical contributions of the chorus.69 The
manuscript evidence for Republican Roman and Senecan tragedy confirms
the presence of lyric systems in the lines given to the chorus, which likely
denoted lines sung to the accompaniment of a musical instrument.70 Musi-
cal sections in Roman tragedy may also have been signaled in tragic manu-
scripts by the use of the siglum “C” (= canticum), as opposed to the siglum
“DV” (= deverbium), which denoted spoken, non-accompanied verse.71
The tibia, which appears to have been the Roman equivalent of the
Greek aulos,72 normally accompanied sung lyrics. However, based on the
testimony of Horace, it was the lyre, and not the aulos as in Classical
tragedy, which typically accompanied the choral lyrics. Horace claims that
the tibia was used during scenes, which at this point contained very few
68
On music in the Roman theatre, see Beare, The Roman Stage, 168–169; Dupont,
L’acteur-roi, 88–91; Manuwald, Roman Republican Theatre, 89–90, 326–330; Marshall,
The Stagecraft and Performance of Roman Comedy, 203–244.
69
Cicero, Tusc. 1.106–107; De or. 3.196; Parad. 26; Orat. 173; Acad. 2.20, 86.
70
Spoken speech was denoted by the iambic senarius, a Latin meter closely resembl-
ing the Greek iambic trimester, and the rhythmic patterns of ordinary speech. Horace,
Ars. 79; Cicero, Orat. 184; Quintilian, Inst. 2.10.13; Horace, Sat. 1.14.45–62.
71
Although there is no evidence for these markings in surviving tragic fragments of
the Republican period, or in the tragedies of Seneca, their existence elsewhere is often
inferred from their existence in the (much more complete) manuscripts of the Republican
comedians Terence and Plautus. See Timothy J. Moore, “When Did the tibicen Play?
Meter and Musical Accompaniment in Roman Comedy,” TAPA 138 (2008): 20–38.
72
West, Ancient Greek Music, 81–85.
278 Chapter 6: Forms/Functions of the Tragic Chorus: 4th C. and Beyond

choral lyrics as a percentage of the overall number of verses, while the lyre
accompanied the exclusively choral lyrics in-between scenes.73

6.2 Functions of Tragic Choruses in the Post-Classical

Periods Prior to Seneca

With the exception of the Rhesus, which is tenuously dated to the 4th cen-
tury, there is a conspicuous lack of data for tragedy in the post-Classical
periods prior to the tragedies of Seneca.74 What data does exist is fragmen-
tary and therefore inconclusive with respect to so many of the basic issues
in the study of Classical and Senecan tragedy. As such, very few scholars
dare even to venture into this territory.75 The scant and fragmentary evi-
dence for post-Classical tragedies has particularly negative repercussions
for the study of the developments in the functions of tragic choruses. That
is, while fragmentary evidence allows for something to be said of some of
the formal characteristics of tragic choruses in the post-Classical periods,
the absence of a dramatic context in which to situate the choral fragments
makes it is much more difficult to say something of the functional charac-
teristics of choruses. For example, without information as to the surround-
ing dramatic context for a choral fragment, it is most often very difficult to
determine in what ways, if at all, the chorus was functioning to advance or
to contextualize the surrounding dramatic action.

6.2.1 The Rhesus

Analyses of choral functions in the post-Classical period must begin with
the best-preserved text from the period, the Rhesus. If it is in fact correctly
dated to the 4th century, the Rhesus testifies to a high degree of continuity
of choral function early in the post-Classical period. On the one hand, the
chorus functions conventionally to advance the dramatic action. In the
parodos, for example, the chorus functions conventionally in three specific
ways, by: (1) offering a synopsis of the present dramatic circumstances (1–
51); (2) serving as a dialogue partner for Hector (52–84); and (3) fore-
shadowing that something is amiss (76–79).

73
Horace, Ars 202–220; Cicero, Leg. 2.9, 15.
74
The lack of surviving evidence may appear to suggest the declining popularity of
tragedy in the Hellenistic period. However, many scholars believe that tragedy flourished
in the 4 th century and beyond.
75
For example, Xanthakis-Karamanos begins his study of 4th-century tragedies by ad-
mitting that there is “little to encourage us to take an interest in fourth-century tragedy.”
Xanthakis-Karamanos, Studies in Fourth-Century Tragedy, 1.
 6.2 Functions of Tragic Choruses in the Post-Classical Periods Prior to Seneca 279

Elsewhere, too, the chorus functions to advance the dramatic action in

ways that very closely resemble choruses in 5th-century tragedy. So, for
instance, the chorus functions as: (1) an audience for the Messenger’s
speech (727–803); (2) a non-lyric dialogue partner; (3) a lyric dialogue
partner at an emotionally dramatic moment (882ff.); and (4) a medium to:
(a) foreshadow future dramatic events (330–332, 555–562); (b) provide
background information, as for Rhesus (342ff.) and for Odysseus (715–
721); and (c) introduce new characters (e.g., Hector [10], Aeneas [85–86],
Rhesus [380–387], Odysseus [675–682], and again Hector [804–807]).
The chorus also functions in the Rhesus to cast the surrounding action in
a particular light. For instance, the first stasimon consists of a choral paean
to Apollo, sung in order to ensure the safety of Dolon in his mission to spy
on the Greek camp. The paean invokes Apollo as the protector of Troy
(224–232), asks that he guide Dolon on a successful mission into the
Greek camp (233–241), focuses on the bravery required of Dolon in order
to complete such a task (242–252), and asks ultimately that Dolon may kill
Menelaus and Agamemnon in retribution for the Greek expedition to Troy
(253–263). Thus, in a manner echoing the conventions of Classical drama,
the chorus frames the present dramatic circumstances in terms of their
larger mythological context: Dolon’s success, and ultimately the fate of the
Trojan army, is dependent upon the (continued) protection of Apollo.
In the second stasimon, the chorus reflects on the character of Rhesus in
anticipation of his arrival in Troy. In the first strophic pair, the chorus
invokes Adrasteia, daughter of Zeus, considers Rhesus’ mythical lineage as
the son of the River God Strymon and the Muse (342–354), and deems the
arrival of Rhesus in Troy as the coming of Zeus the Liberator (342–359).
In the second strophic pair, the chorus reflects on the possibility that
Rhesus’ arrival might allow Troy to return to its halcyon days before the
arrival of the Greeks (360–369), and invokes Rhesus’ presence in order to
accomplish this very deed (370–379). Thus, in this stasimon, the chorus
functions conventionally to provide relevant background information on
one of the main characters, and to frame his arrival in terms of the
expectation that he will be able to liberate Troy.
Insofar as each of the two stasima reflections situates the surrounding
dramatic action in a particular context, they can be considered in terms of
the choral functionality evident throughout Classical tragedy. Choral
reflections in the Rhesus are not, however, limited to the stasima, but occur
within scenes at various points throughout the play. For instance, as Aeneas
attempts to persuade Hector to send a spy into the Greek camp in lieu of a
full-fledged night attack (105–130), the chorus (of Theban soldiers) signals
satisfaction with Aeneas’ plan, commenting that they “do not like when
generals order unsafe things” (132). Likewise, after the conversation be-
tween Hector and Dolon in which it is revealed that Dolon is seeking
280 Chapter 6: Forms/Functions of the Tragic Chorus: 4th C. and Beyond

nothing but Achilles’ famed horses in exchange for performing his risky
mission into the Greek camp (154–194), the chorus implies that a greater
gift might have been to marry into the royal house (197–198), and iterates
that his fate rests ultimately in the hands of the gods and Justice (199–201).
As a final example, in a non-lyric dialogue with Hector, in which Hector
has decided not to accept Rhesus as a military ally but rather as a house-
guest, the chorus reminds him of the dangers of rejecting an ally (317–
334). In each of these cases, the chorus offers brief reflections that touch
on popular philosophical and social tropes: the reckless behavior of mili-
tary commanders, the windfall of a royal inheritance, the idea that a happy
fate depends on divine favor, and the dynamics of hospitality to guests.
Thus, the Rhesus demonstrates that there were general continuities in
choral functionality from the Classical to the post-Classical period. At the
same time, the Rhesus exhibits choral tendencies that seem to be a con-
tinuation of the diminished role of the chorus towards the end of the 5th
century:76 (1) Exclusively choral activity is diminished. That is, there are
only two choral odes (224–263, 342–380), and a lyric dialogue between
members of the chorus (527–564), while the rest of the choral activity in
the play takes place with other actors both within and in-between scenes;
(2) Actors continued to encroach upon roles that had once been reserved for
the chorus. For example, a lyric kommos takes place between the chorus
and the Muse in which it is revealed that Rhesus has been killed (882ff.).
Insofar as the kommos conveys dramatically important and emotionally
powerful information, it functions analogously to lyric kommoi in the 5th
century. However, the participation of the chorus in the dialogue is abso-
lutely minimal. As a consequence of this, the chorus does not actually
lament the death of Rhesus – this is performed entirely by the Muse;77 and
(3) The length of the two choral odes in the Rhesus (38 and 40 lines, re-
spectively) corresponds with the shorter odes in Sophocles and the average
length in Euripides, as does the fact that strophic responsion is limited to
two pairs.

6.2.2 The Chorus in Roman Republican Tragedy

In the absence of additional substantive data for choral phenomena prior to
Seneca, scholarly analyses of choral functions in these periods are mini-
mal. The incomplete evidence and the absence of surrounding dialogue in
which to contextualize choral lyrics allows for only very tentative con-
clusions to be drawn as to choral functions.

76
The role of the chorus is, among other similarities between the Rhesus and plays of
Euripides, one of the primary reasons that the play has been attributed to Euripides.
77
Rather, the chorus pays homage to lament at 940–945.
 6.2 Functions of Tragic Choruses in the Post-Classical Periods Prior to Seneca 281

It appears from several fragments of Republican Roman tragedy that the

tragic chorus participated in dialogue(s) with the protagonist(s) during
scenes. In this way, the chorus seems to have continued to function, at
least at times, as an integral element in expediting the dramatic plot within
scenes.78 Without clearer data, it is difficult to establish with any certainty
the chorus’ precise functions in this regard, though we might suppose that
through dialogue the chorus functioned in this capacity as it did in Classi-
cal tragedy, as a tool for conveying relevant dramatic information, eliciting
information from the protagonist(s), or as a dramatic audience for the
speeches and/or dialogue(s) of the characters. For example, in fragments of
Pacuvius’ Niptra, it appears that the chorus participates in lyric dialogue
with Odysseus after his grave injury. As this passage evokes similar scenes
from Classical tragedy (i.e., Hippolytos’ injury in Euripides, Hipp. 1342–
1388, and Heracles’ injury in Sophocles, Trach. 971–1045), it appears the
chorus functions here as it often did in Classical tragedy to lament.79
Insofar as the chorus’ presence and participation during scenes can be
established here, it might be supposed that choruses also participated dur-
ing scenes as they did in Classical tragedies to: (1) introduce characters;
(2) offer a synopsis of the current dramatic circumstances; and (3) fore-
shadow future dramatic events. The suggestion that tragic choruses of the
Republican Roman period functioned in these ways is pure conjecture, as
there is no physical evidence which confirms it.
It is likewise unclear whether tragic choruses in the Republican period
functioned in-between scenes at all. In light of the fact that there exists no
unmistakable evidence of choral lyrics in-between scenes (e.g., stasima),
information as to choral functionality in-between scenes depends largely
on circumstantial evidence and the testimony of ancient commentators.
Several modern scholars have questioned the existence of choral odes in-
between scenes in Republican Roman tragedy on the basis of the clear evi-
dence from Roman comedy that choral odes in-between scenes had been
altogether eliminated.80 That is, on the basis of perceived formal similar-
78
The functions of the chorus in this regard seems to be presumed by scholars of
Hellenistic drama, including Hose, “Anmerkungen zur Verwendung des Chores,” 117–
138; Jocelyn, The Tragedies of Ennius, 18–19, 30–31; Manuwald, Republican Roman
Theatre, 320–324.
79
Hose, “Anmerkungen zur Verwendung des Chores,” 127–129.
80
That is, Plautus, Terence, and many other Roman comic playwrights eliminated the
chorus altogether. It was no longer a part of the dramatic action within episodes, and no
longer performed in-between scenes. Roles given to the chorus in Greek comedy
(parodos, parabasis, stasima, etc.) were transferred to the actors. For example, Acts were
divided by the entrances and exits of the protagonists, and many of the lyrical elements
provided by the chorus in Greek comedy were transferred to the protagonists. See Eduard
Fraenkel, Plautine Elements in Plautus (trans. Tomas Drevikovsky and Frances Muecke;
Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2007); Manuwald, Republican Roman Theatre, 144–
282 Chapter 6: Forms/Functions of the Tragic Chorus: 4th C. and Beyond

ities between Roman comedy and tragedy, some scholars presume that
choral odes in-between scenes would have been absent in both dramatic
forms in the Republican period.81
Others suggest that the chorus wasn’t altogether eliminated in-between
scenes in Republican tragedy, but that its function was simply reduced.
Some presume the existence of choral odes in-between scenes in Repub-
lican tragedy on the grounds that their absence would have prompted
commentary from ancient critics, which does not exist, and on the basis of
Seneca’s tragedies in which choral lyrics most frequently appear.
Several extant fragments suggest the possibility of choral stasima. For
example, a fragment from Ennius’ Medea may represent choral lyrics from
a stasimon insofar as it appears to be an adaptation of the choral stasimon
of Euripides’ version of the play. 82 Likewise, a fragment from Ennius’
Iphigenia, which records the anxious musings of Agamemnon’s soldiers as
they await to depart for Troy, evokes the reflective characteristics of a
choral stasimon.83 The best evidence, however, for choral participation in-
between scenes exists in the form of the testimony of Horace, who impli-
citly confirms the existence of choral stasima in Republican tragedy of his
day:
Do not let the chorus sing anything between the acts which is not conducive to, and fitly
coherent with, the main design (Horace, Ars 193–195).

The presumption that the role of the chorus in-between scenes would have
been greatly reduced in Republican tragedy vis-à-vis the choruses of Clas-
sical tragedy is based in part on the belief that Republican tragic choruses
were part and parcel of a general trajectory of decline in the relevance and
importance of the tragic chorus throughout antiquity, beginning in the
Classical and Hellenistic periods, and evident in the plays of Seneca.84
Others presume that the chorus would not have been able to engage in the
same kinds of elaborate songs and dances in-between scenes as in the
Classical period insofar as they were performing on a stage that was much

169. For further discussions of the Roman “adaptations” of Greek “originals” in Plautus
and Terence, see Slater, Plautus in Performance; Beacham, Roman Theatre, 29–55;
Francis H. Sandbach, The Comic Theatre of Greece and Rome (New York: Norton, 1977),
106ff.; Duckworth, Nature of Roman Comedy, 46ff.
81
E.g., Manuwald, Republican Roman Theatre, 139.
82
Jocelyn, The Tragedies of Ennius, 369–375; Hose, “Anmerkungen zur Verwendung
des Chores,” 125–127.
83
Hose, “Anmerkungen zur Verwendung des Chores,” 133–135.
84
As evidenced by the decreased relevance of the chorus in Euripidean tragedy, the
evidence of choral embolima entirely unrelated to the specifics of the dramatic plot, and
the knowledge that in certain re-performances of Classical tragedies in the Hellenistic
period the choral lyrics were simply excised. See Fantuzzi and Hunter, Tradition and
Innovation, 435.
 6.3 Functions of Tragic Choruses in Senecan Tragedy 283

smaller than the Classical orchestra, and a stage that was perhaps shared
by the actors.85 In this vein, others have suggested that the proximity of the
chorus to the actors on the stage would have diminished their role as a
mediator between the actors and the audience, and would have obviated
their role as a commentator on the surrounding dialogue as in Classical
tragic stasima.86

6.3 Functions of Tragic Choruses in Senecan Tragedy

With respect to their relationship(s) with the surrounding dramatic action,

choruses in Senecan tragedy can be evaluated in similar terms as the
choruses of Classical tragedy. That is, the chorus functions on the one hand
to advance the dramatic action by: (1) introducing characters; (2) offering
a synopsis of the current dramatic circumstances, which often includes a
summary of the events which have led to them; (3) foreshadowing future
dramatic events; and (4) serving as an instrument through which to elicit
information from the protagonists relevant to the plot. The chorus also
functions to reflect upon, illuminate certain aspects of, or provide a particu-
lar frame through which to view, the dramatic characters and events in the
episodes, by: (1) reacting to the preceding dramatic material in such a way
as to elicit an emotional response from the audience; and/or (2) framing
the surrounding dramatic action in a mythological-historical, philosophi-
cal, or mythological-theological context.

6.3.1 Moving Forward the Dramatic Action

Character Entrance Announcements
As in Classical tragedy, one of the most frequent functions of the chorus in
Senecan drama is to announce the arrival of a character. Such announce-
ments could occur at any point in the drama, and most often took the form
of a simple announcement to reveal the character’s identity, and to identify
the circumstances of the entrance. Though such announcements occur fairly
regularly, they are less common in Senecan tragedy than in Classical tra-
gedy.

Synopsis of Present Circumstances

In a very few instances, the chorus in Senecan tragedy offers a synopsis of
the present dramatic circumstances of the protagonist(s). However, insofar

85
Jocelyn, The Tragedies of Ennius, 31.
86
Hose, “Anmerkungen zur Verwendung des Chores,” 120, 125, 134.
284 Chapter 6: Forms/Functions of the Tragic Chorus: 4th C. and Beyond

as the chorus most often offered such a synopsis in Classical tragedy

during the parodos, a choral element absent in Senecan tragedy, it is no
surprise that this function of the chorus is conspicuously diminished.
Examples of the chorus’ function in this regard occur in the first choral
odes of Oedipus and Trojan Women, wherein the choral lyrics constitute a
summary of the events described in the prologue and first Act.87 In these
cases, the present circumstances are not introduced by the chorus as in
Classical tragedy, but rather expounded upon and detailed by the chorus.
Elsewhere in Senecan tragedy, the chorus’ contributions in this regard are
brief,88 while the majority of summative information is provided instead
through the speeches and dialogue of the actors.

Foreshadowing
Examples of the role of the chorus to foreshadow dramatic events were
offered above in the discussion of the introductory odes of Trojan Women
and Thyestes, wherein subsequent dramatic events were vaguely presaged
by means of the background stories provided by the chorus. However, a
similar kind of foreshadowing occurs in instances in which background
information is not provided. For instance, in the first ode of Agamemnon,
the chorus offers reflections on the volatile and ultimately transitory nature
of sovereign power, likening it to the tempests of the sea, the sacking of
citadels, forsaken marriages, and natural disasters (57–107). In so doing,
the chorus dimly portends the events of Agamemnon as they are about to
unfold in the drama, specifically his betrayal and murder at the hands of
his wife Clytamnestra. Later in the play, the chorus likewise appears to
presage the impending fate of Agamemnon with its story of the fall of Troy
(589–658). However, while the chorus appears to foreshadow dramatic
events in this kind of elusive way, it does not make more conspicuous
allusions to unfolding dramatic events. This function of the chorus, which
is so prominent in Classical tragedy, is in Senecan drama typically given to
other characters.

Instrument for Exposition of Characters’ Thoughts

and a Dramatic Audience for Speeches
As in Classical tragedy, the chorus in Senecan tragedy was deployed as a
dramatic tool in order to: (1) stage a dialogue with a protagonist, with the
dialogue functioning solely as a pretext for eliciting some piece of infor-
mation from the protagonist; and (2) provide an audience for a protag-

87
Seneca, Oed. tyr. 110–201; Tro. 67–163.
88
E.g., the chorus’ description of Medea’s maddened disposition in the fourth stasi-
mon. Seneca, Med. 849–878.
 6.3 Functions of Tragic Choruses in Senecan Tragedy 285

onist’s speech. The chorus’ function in this regard appears to have been a
natural result of the fact that, unlike the actors, it was present on-stage
most, if not all, of the time during scenes. As such, it could be deployed in
such a way in the absence of other characters on-stage. For instance, Act 2
of Trojan Women opens with the herald of the Greek army, Talthybius,
alone on stage announcing that the Danaan ships are delayed in their return
home from Troy (164–165). The chorus then prompts Talthybius to ex-
plain the cause of this delay (166–167), a prompt which serves no other
purpose than to provide a dramatic exigency for Talthybius to give his
following speech (168–202). So, too, at the beginning of Act 2 in Phaedra
does the chorus function in such a way. Phaedra has already revealed to
her nurse the passion she feels for her step-son Hippolytos, along with her
plans to commit suicide, while the nurse expresses anxiety over the sever-
ity of Phaedra’s present state. At this point, the chorus instructs the nurse
to appease the “virgin goddess” with the hope of rectifying the situation
(404–405), which the nurse immediately does (406–430). The chorus is
alone on-stage in the position to offer such instruction (Hippolytos does
not know of Phaedra’s plans, while Phaedra herself is in no position to do
so), and its instruction functions solely as a pretext for the nurse to offer
her prayer.89

Summary
While choruses in Senecan tragedy function analogously to the choruses in
Classical tragedy by moving forward the dramatic action in these ways,
choral functionality in Senecan tragedy differs from Classical tragedy most
considerably insofar as the chorus participated in the action with much less
frequency. This decrease in choral activity corresponds to a decrease in lines
given to the chorus in Senecan tragedy as a whole, and can be explained in
large part by the fact that such roles that had been given to the chorus in
the Classical period were increasingly in Senecan tragedy given to actors.

6.3.2 Casting the Dramatic Action in a Particular Context

Emotional Reactions
As in Classical tragedy, the Senecan chorus often cast the surrounding
dramatic action in a particular light is by signaling joy, sorrow, satis-
faction, dissatisfaction, etc., with a preceding speech, dialogue, or dramatic

89
The chorus functions in such a way elsewhere in Senecan tragedy, as for example in
Act 5 in Medea, where the chorus’ questioning of the Messenger allows him to reveal the
disaster that has befallen Creusa (879–892), and in Act 4 of Thyestes, where the chorus
responds intermittently throughout the Messenger’s speech to probe the Messenger for
details of what has happened to Thyestes’ sons (623–788).
286 Chapter 6: Forms/Functions of the Tragic Chorus: 4th C. and Beyond

event. So, for instance, a chorus of Jason’s sympathizers in Medea sings a

joyful wedding-song after hearing of Jason’s impending marriage to Creusa
(57–115), the chorus of exiled Trojan Women in Trojan Women sings a
lament for the fallen city of Troy (67–163), and the chorus in Madness of
Hercules mourns the deaths of Hercules’ children by the hands of their
father (1053–1137). While such reactions occasionally appear in the form
of a brief emotional outburst during a scene, much more often in Senecan
tragedy the chorus reacts to dramatic events by means of a lyric exchange
with a character in-between a scene, or in the form of a choral ode in-
between scenes.
Interestingly, these often appear as variations of traditional hymnic
forms.90 For example, mourning could take the shape of a lyric exchange
between the chorus and protagonist that resembled the kommos, or lyric
lament, as in Trojan Women over the fallen city of Troy (67–163).91 Else-
where, other hymnic forms are evoked, as in the wedding-song (epithala-
mia) of the chorus in Medea in response to Jason’s and Creusa’s nuptials
(57–115),92 and the thanksgiving hymn of the chorus of Argive women in
Agamemnon to the Olympian gods in appreciation for Agamemnon’s
victory (310–387).
Choral responses to dramatic events functioned at one level simply to
draw attention to one particular aspect of the event by concentrating the
audience’s attention on it. In so doing, they may function at another level
to modulate the emotional response to the preceding events for the audi-
ence, heightening the dramatic tension created in the surrounding action,
or providing relief from the tension conjured by an emotionally charged
scene. Such a response may provide an opportunity for the audience itself
to reflect upon the events, and to consider how it might react to the events.

Framing the Dramatic Action in a Mythological-Historical Context

The chorus in Senecan tragedy sometimes offered a survey of the mytho-
logical-historical events that led to the current predicaments of the protag-
onist(s), thereby casting the dramatic plot in a particular mythological-
historical light. For example, during the first ode in Trojan Women, the
chorus of now exiled women retells various events of the Trojan War and
the events that led to it (e.g., the abduction of Helen [69–70]), Greeks
sailing to Troy (71–72), ten years of war in Troy (73–78), the death of
Hector (98–116), the death of Priam and his soldiers (138–141), and their
fate in the Underworld (156–163). Likewise, in the first ode of Thyestes,

90
Generic relationships between dramatic and non-dramatic choral forms are “rarely
exact” and are in fact “usually fairly loose.” Rutherford, “Apollo in Ivy,” 112, 118.
91
See also Seneca, Med. 879–892; Ag. 659–781; [Herc. Oet.] 104–232.
92
Davis, Shifting Song, 50–51.
 6.3 Functions of Tragic Choruses in Senecan Tragedy 287

the chorus (of unknown identity) recounts the story of Tantalus, including
the murder of his son Pelops and presentation of him as food for the gods
(136–148) and his subsequent punishment in the Underworld (149–175).93
In both cases, mythological-historical background information provided
by the chorus makes for a fitting introduction to the tragic plot-lines and,
alongside the speeches and/or dialogue in the prologue and first Act,
serves to frame the dramatic events about to unfold. In the case of Trojan
Women, choral laments over the suffering and death at the hands of the
Greeks in the Trojan War provide a context for explaining the current pre-
dicament of the protagonists – Hecuba, Andromache, and their children – as
exiles from Troy looking for refuge, while also foreshadowing the suffer-
ing they will continue to face as a result of this defeat. So, too, the back-
ground story of Tantalus serves as a fitting introduction to the story of
Atreus and Thyestes, as both are descendants of the house of Pelops, and a
kind of frame for considering the events which subsequently unfold in the
tragedy, i.e., Atreus killing Thyestes’ sons and serving them to Thyestes
for dinner.94
The chorus also regularly performed a similar function elsewhere in
Senecan tragedy, either by offering additional mythological-historical back-
ground information, or by providing a particular mythological-historical
analogy for the dramatic action. For instance, in the second stasimon of
Medea, the chorus’ summary of the perilous voyage of the Argo and the
particular obstacles faced by Jason and his crew, provides a context for
considering the current struggle of Jason against his current treacherous
threat, Medea (301–379).95 Likewise, the (secondary) chorus of Trojan
Women in the third stasimon of Agamemnon sings of the night that Troy
unexpectedly fell at the hands of the Greeks and their deceptive Wooden
Horse (589–658), as a means of contextualizing the similarly unexpected
and deceptive fall of Agamemnon at the hands of his wife which occurs in
the following acts.96

93
Cf. the chorus’ recounting of Hercules’ toils in the second ode in Seneca, Herc. fur.
524–591.
94
As was the case with the chorus’ role to provide a synopsis of the present dramatic
circumstances, such background information is not introduced by the chorus. Rather, it
constitutes a continuation of, and/or elaboration upon, information that was previously
introduced by one of the characters. In this way, the information provided by the chorus
appears less essential dramatically than it was in Classical tragedies.
95
The connection between Jason’s past and current threats (i.e., the sea and Medea) is
made explicit in the ode (361–363). See Davis, Shifting Song, 78–84.
96
See Davis, Shifting Song, 106–118. Cf. the fourth choral ode in Agamemnon, in
which the chorus sings of the exploits of Hercules (808–866). By singing an ode of a
mythic hero who was killed by his own wife (though Hercules’ death by Deianira is not
recounted in this ode), the chorus sets the stage for Agamemnon’s own death at the hands
288 Chapter 6: Forms/Functions of the Tragic Chorus: 4th C. and Beyond

While the chorus contextualizes the surrounding dramatic events and

characters by recalling various mythological-historical events and person-
ages, it also considers certain dramatic circumstances and protagonists
more explicitly in terms of particular mythological-historical precedents.
For example, in the third stasimon of Medea, Medea’s destructive deeds
are likened to similarly reckless mythological-historical events, such as
Phaethon driving the chariot too close to the Sun, Jason sailing for the
Golden Fleece, Orpheus traveling to the Underworld, etc. (579–669). Thus,
whether by setting the dramatic circumstances within a larger mythologi-
cal-historical cycle, or by considering the current events to be emblematic
of past ones, the chorus regularly contextualizes the present dramatic
circumstances within a particular mythological-historical context.

Setting the Dramatic Action in a Philosophical Context

As in Classical tragedy, the chorus in Senecan tragedy regularly offered
philosophical reflections on a particular dramatic situation. While choral
reflections of this sort in Classical tragedy took numerous forms ranging
from extended deliberations in the stasima to very brief musings during
scenes, philosophical deliberations of the Senecan chorus consisted only of
lengthy reflections which occurred during the choral odes. Philosophical
deliberations of the chorus touched on a wide range of topics as deter-
mined by the surrounding plot.
For instance, the chorus in the second ode of Thyestes offers reflections
on the proper attributes of a good king, suggesting that a true king is not one
who possesses outward accoutrements (wealth, robes, cavalry, weapons,
etc.), but rather one who boasts certain inward traits (a lack of fear or
willful ambition, wisdom, and a stable disposition, etc.). Such a view
constitutes an explicit response to the depiction of Atreus the King in Acts
1 and 2 of the play, as overwhelmed with insatiable desire for more power,
revenge, etc. The choral ode thus casts light on Atreus’ sovereign attributes
and reveals them as ultimately destructive, a perspective which proves
tragically correct in light of the subsequent events in the play, as Atreus
kills his brother’s children and serves them to him for dinner.
A different sort of philosophical topic is raised in the third choral ode of
Phaedra. Immediately after Phaedra has falsely accused Hippolytus of
rape, the chorus considers the apparent absence of order and stability in the
lives of all mortals, and the tendency for shame, treachery, and adultery to
be rewarded, and for virtue, chastity, honor, and modesty to be punished
(959–988). This unpredictable state of mortal affairs, which is contrasted

of his wife. See Bernd Seidensticker, Die Gesprächsverdichtung in den Tragödien

Senecas (Heidelberg: C. Winter, 1969), 132, n. 163.
 6.3 Functions of Tragic Choruses in Senecan Tragedy 289

with the seeming stability and order in the heavens and in Nature, is said to
be governed by Fortune, who appears to “scatter gifts blindly, promoting
all that is worst” (978–980). This theme is repeated in the following ode,
sung in response to the report that Hippolytus has been killed. After sug-
gesting that mortals’ fates are apportioned relative to their place in life,
i.e., the lofty experience the greatest upheavals, while the meek experience
lesser blows (1123–1140), the chorus remarks that Fortune “pledges her
faith to none” (1142–1143). Such a view is not only implicitly justified on
the basis of Hippolytus’ unmerited death at the hands of his father
Theseus, but also explicitly on the basis of the fact that Theseus himself
now will experience only sorrow and tears as a result of this action (1144–
1148).97
The above example highlights two especially prominent philosophical
themes repeated elsewhere in Senecan tragedy. The first is the notion that
Fate determines the course(s) of mortals’ lives, and the second that a
course determined by Fate cannot be altered by any means. The chorus
takes up this topic in the fifth ode of Oedipus. Following the revelation
that Oedipus is his father’s killer and mother’s husband, the chorus offers a
short ode consisting of a series of brief sayings each centering on the
notion that mortals’ lives are determined by inexorable Fate. The ode can
be read as a philosophical summation of the dramatic events that have
transpired: Despite every effort to escape it, Oedipus has succumbed to the
Fate predicted for him.
Another prominent theme in Senecan choral lyrics is the notion that
Fortune’s destiny is most severe for those who hold high positions in life.
The first ode in Agamemnon, which constitutes a reflection on the ten-
dency for those who are exalted to be humbled, and as such foreshadows
Agamemnon’s impending doom, is a good example of this (57–107). So,
too, in the fourth ode of Oedipus does the chorus highlight the tendency
for those in high places to be rewarded with misfortunes proportionate to
their position. The idea that exalted persons lead inherently precarious
lives corresponds with a position often advocated by the chorus that a
middle-course in all aspects of life is to be preferred over a life of excess.98
Such ideas are evident in several of Seneca’s choral odes (and else-
where in non-choral elements of Senecan tragedy), and highlight the extent
to which Stoic philosophy permeated Senecan drama. Given the extent to
which Seneca advocated Stoic principles elsewhere in his letters and trea-
tises, it is not surprising that conventional Stoic principles should appear in

97
The chorus’ view of Fate in these odes is only one amongst others advocated in this
play. For example, in the fourth Act, it appears as if Hippolytus’ fate is not governed by
random chance, but is rather a result of Phaedra’s passions. See Davis, Shifting Song, 153.
98
Med. 579–669; Phaed. 736–823, 1123–1148; Oed. 882–914; Thy. 336–403, 546–623.
290 Chapter 6: Forms/Functions of the Tragic Chorus: 4th C. and Beyond

his tragedies, and be advocated by the chorus. Additional Stoic themes in

Seneca’s tragedies include: (1) the well-ordered cosmos which governs
Nature;99 (2) the human ideal of conforming to Nature;100 and (3) the final-
ity and banality of death.101 Despite the prominence of such Stoic posi-
tions, by no means does the chorus advocate Stoic philosophical positions
exclusively.

Setting the Dramatic Action in a Mythological-Theological Context

As in Classical tragedy, philosophical topics broached by the chorus in
Senecan tragedy often involve considerations of the gods. While the roles
of the traditional gods are not as prominent in Senecan tragedy as they are
in drama of the Classical period, they are nevertheless brought to bear on
various topics. The examples above reflect various mythological-theological
positions, e.g., the futility of the gods to alter Fate, and the propensity for
Fate to punish people in proportion to their position in life. So, too, else-
where are various attributes and exploits of the gods are considered in
choral lyrics in terms of their relation to the dramatic events taking place.
For example, in the third stasimon in Phaedra, the chorus attributes the
regularity in the heavens and nature to the care of Nature and Zeus (959–
971), and the seeming lack of order and the prevalence of injustice in
human affairs to the indifference of Nature and Zeus (972–977), and the
sovereignty of Fortune (978–979). Insofar as this reflection on the divine
cause of instability and injustice in the lives of mortals immediately fol-
lows a dramatic sequence in which Theseus has just decided to punish
Hippolytus on the basis of Phaedra’s false claims that he raped her, the ode
can be understood as a mythological-theological reflection on the preced-
ing dramatic events. The choral ode frames the success of Phaedra’s lies,
and the unmerited punishment of Hippolytus, in terms of widespread
injustice evident in human affairs, and casts blame for this injustice on the
seeming indifference of the gods to such outcomes.
The third ode in Oedipus likewise casts the surrounding dramatic action
in a mythological-theological framework by offering a mythological-theo-
logical explanation for the surrounding dramatic events. In the previous
Act, Creon has revealed to Oedipus that Oedipus is in fact Laius’ murderer,
and the husband of his own mother, and has thus exposed Oedipus as the
cause for the suffering in Thebes. In the ode that follows, the chorus
explains that the ultimate cause of Thebes’ suffering is not Oedipus’

99
Phaed. 274–357, 959–988, 1123–1148; Oed. 980–996; Ag. 57–107; Tro. 1009–
1055.
100
Herc. fur. 125–204.
101
Tro. 371–408; Ag. 589–610. Cf. the final choral ode in Thyestes, in which is
envisioned the end of the world as postulated by Stoic physics (830–874).
 6.3 Functions of Tragic Choruses in Senecan Tragedy 291

unknowing acts, but rather a sequence of mythological-theological events

that preceded him, going all the way back to Jupiter’s kidnapping of
Europa. In various instantiations of this myth, Cadmus wanders through
various lands in search of Europa, founding various cities and territories
(of which Thebes was one) but eventually grows weary and ultimately fails
in his task. Cadmus’ failure to bring back Europa is thus identified by the
chorus as the cause of the suffering of Cadmus’ descendants in Thebes,
including Oedipus (712–763). Thus, the ode situates the circumstances of
Oedipus within a clear mythological-theological framework.

Mythological-Theological Reflections and Choral Hymns

On several occasions, the chorus frames the surrounding dramatic action in
mythological-theological terms by means of a hymn. As was shown above,
hymns in Senecan tragedy appear as they do in Classical tragedy as
responses to dramatic events, e.g., a lament in response to the news that
Hercules has unknowingly killed his wife and children (Herc. fur. 1053–
1137), a supplicatory hymn in light of the imminent threat to Thyestes and
his children (Thy. 122–175), etc. Thus, at one level, the hymns in Senecan
tragedy likewise offer a mythological-theological perspective simply by
associating and connecting dramatic events with mythological-theological
characters, for in doing so the chorus demonstrates the belief in the inher-
ent relationship between the gods and mortals, and the comingling of the
divine and mortal realms. That is, the chorus confirms through hymns that
mortal events include divine workings and have divine implications.
At the same time, as in Classical drama, these hymnic odes often consist
of mythological-theological reflections that cast the surrounding dramatic
action in a particular mythological-theological perspective. For example,
in the first stasimon in Phaedra, the chorus sings a long hymn to Cupid,
highlighting his powers in the human, divine, and natural realms, by listing
the numerous entities who have come under his power, including all men
and women (281–295), Apollo (296–298), Zeus (299–316), Heracles (317–
329), and the animals in the earth, water, and sky (330–352). This hymnic
demonstration of Cupid’s powers is framed by the claim that the effects of
Cupid’s arrows are deep (281–282), and that nothing is immune from them
(353), not even, as the very last line suggests, the “cruelty of stepmothers”
(357). Thus, the very last line makes clear what might be inferred from the
context in which the hymn is found: the hymnic elaboration of Cupid’s
unconquerable powers frames the story of Phaedra’s “unnatural love” for
her step-son Hippolytus. On one hand, insofar as the hymn immediately
follows the first Act in which Phaedra reveals her “flames of passion” for
Hippolytus, it frames these passions in terms of the divine “fire” that
overpowers all beings. On the other hand, the kind of “love” that Phaedra
292 Chapter 6: Forms/Functions of the Tragic Chorus: 4th C. and Beyond

reveals for Hippolytus throughout the play can be contrasted with those
forms listed in the hymn. Insofar as hers appear “unheard of,” “unnatural,”
and proof of her “madness,” they stand in contrast with those in the hymn
that appear so “natural” as to be confused with “Nature” itself (353).102
More often than not, the contents of a hymn relate thematically to a
particular dramatic character or event, without being connected explicitly
with it as in the above example. In several cases, hymns in Senecan tragedy
frame the surrounding dramatic events in mythological-theological terms
through analogy. 103 In choral hymnic lyrics, the exploits of mythological-
theological characters sometimes provide implicit analogies for the dra-
matic activities of the protagonists, in such a way as to demonstrate their
mythological-theological implications. The second ode in Oedipus, which
consists of a hymnic recounting of various attributes and adventures of
Bacchus and his followers, provides such an example, as several of these
attributes and exploits are suggestive of the character of Oedipus in the
play: A concealed identity of Bacchus (403–428), and a recounting of past
murders of blood-relatives. In these ways, an ode that does not relate
explicitly to the particulars of the plot of Oedipus nevertheless situates the
story of Oedipus within a history of the house of Cadmus, by framing his
similar circumstances in light of them.

Functions of the Secondary Chorus

The functions of the secondary choruses with respect to the surrounding
dramatic action can be considered in the very same terms as those used to
evaluate the functions of primary choruses. In several instances, the sec-
ondary chorus functions to advance the dramatic action, as for example
when it introduces characters.104 So, too, the secondary chorus can offer a
synopsis of the present circumstances, as in the fourth Act of Agamemnon,
when the secondary chorus of captive Trojan women relates the madness
of their princess Cassandra as she becomes possessed by visions of the
impending fate of Agamemnon (659–778). The chorus’ synopsis of the
current dramatic circumstances sometimes includes a summary of events
that have led up to them, as for instance, in the third stasimon of Aga-
memnon, when the chorus of Trojan women sings of their current plight as

102
See Davis, Shifting Song, 93–99; Anthony J. Boyle, Seneca Tragicus: Ramus
Essays on Senecan Drama (Melbourne: Aureal, 1983), 114–127; Charles P. Segal, Lan-
guage and Desire in Seneca’s Phaedra (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1986).
103
This constitutes one of the biggest differences between Senecan hymns and Classi-
cal tragic hymns, which most often cast the surrounding drama into a mythological-
theological light by means of explicit reflections on the mythological-theological under-
pinnings and implications of the dramatic events.
104
Seneca, Ag. 778–781; [Herc. Oet.] 700–705; [Oct.] 778–789.
 6.3 Functions of Tragic Choruses in Senecan Tragedy 293

captives of a fallen city (589–610), and the sack of their city that has led to
their current plight (611–648).
Finally, the secondary chorus may also serve as an instrument through
which to elicit information from the protagonists relevant to the plot. For
example, in the beginning of Act 3 of Pseudo-Seneca’s Hercules on Oeta,
the chorus of Deianira’s attendants asks Deianira to explain what mis-
fortunes are troubling her (715), which prompts her to relate the events
surrounding her unknowing poisoning of Hercules. So, too, in Pseudo-
Seneca’s Octavia, the chorus of Poppaea’s attendants participates in a dia-
logue with the Messenger, with the sole purpose of providing a dramatic
exigency in which the Messenger can explain the current events in the
palace (780–805). In summary, then, with respect to moving forward the
dramatic action, the secondary chorus in Senecan tragedy performed each
of the functions of the primary chorus, except foreshadowing specific
dramatic events.
The secondary chorus can also frame the surrounding dramatic action in
a particular light, according to the functional conventions of choruses
generally. The secondary chorus might cast the surrounding dramatic
action in philosophical terms, as in the third stasimon of Agamemnon, in
which the chorus of captive Trojan women consider what they believe to
be the irrational fear of death, and propose that mortals would be better
suited if they abandoned this fear (589–610). Insofar as this reflection
immediately follows the herald’s retelling of various harrowing events of
the Trojan War, including a number of incidents that occurred as a result
of the fear of the soldiers, the reflection of the chorus can be understood to
cast these events in terms of the (Stoic) philosophical perspective that the
fear of death causes excessive and unwarranted hardships. So, too, in the
second stasimon of Pseudo-Seneca’s Hercules on Oeta, the chorus of
Deianira’s attendants expound upon the common Stoic philosophical trope
that the middle course in all things is to be preferred over excess, and that
those who do not choose the middle course are bound to experience
hardships (583–699). Insofar as this ode comes immediately after a scene
in which Deianira has unknowingly poisoned the cloak that will eventually
kill her husband, Hercules, it thus serves to frame Deianira’s excessive
response to Hercules’ disloyalty to her (which itself represents excessive
behavior), in terms of this Stoic principle.
In one instance, a secondary chorus provides a mythological-theological
reflection on the surrounding dramatic events. In a very brief ode near the
end of Pseudo-Seneca’s Octavia, a chorus of supporters of Poppaea re-
sponds to the actions of a populace that is very unhappy with her (destroy-
ing statues of her, threatening to kill her, etc.), by claiming that Cupid will
eventually overwhelm them and repay them in kind for such misdeeds
(806–819). The ode thus frames these unruly actions as futile in light of
294 Chapter 6: Forms/Functions of the Tragic Chorus: 4th C. and Beyond

the ultimately superior power of the gods to bring about their desired out-
comes.
As these examples demonstrate, the functions of the secondary chorus
accord with the conventions of choral function generally in Senecan tra-
gedy. Moreover, the range of functions of the secondary chorus in Senecan
tragedy appears to increase in comparison with the relatively limited role
of the secondary chorus in Classical tragedy. This, alongside the fact that
the secondary chorus appears relatively more often in Senecan tragedy than
in the extant Classical tragedies, perhaps suggests that the secondary chorus
had become a more prominent dramatic element in Imperial tragedy.

Detachment of the Chorus from the Surrounding Dramatic Action

Many of the choral odes in Seneca’s tragedies appear not to relate directly
to the surrounding dramatic material, and sometimes not at all. Perhaps
nowhere is the chorus’ detachment from the plot more conspicuous than in
the introductory stasimon. In contrast to the introductory choral odes of
Greek tragedy (i.e., parodoi), through which are often revealed the major
characters, background information relevant to the plot(s), and the begin-
nings of the plot-lines themselves, the chorus in Senecan tragedy some-
times reveals no knowledge of the dramatic circumstances, characters, or
plot-lines,105 but rather offers a general reflection on a theme that has little
relevance to the particular dramatic circumstances evident at the beginning
of the play.
A good example consists of the first ode in Agamemnon, which was
shown above to consist of a reflection on the fleeting nature of power, and
the tendency for those who are exalted to be humbled (57–107). While the
central theme of the ode, i.e., the volatility and transiency of sovereign
power, is relevant to the play as a whole insofar as the primary plot-line
consists of the unfolding calamities of Agamemnon, the chorus demon-
strates no knowledge of the plight of Agamemnon as it is revealed by the
ghost of Thyestes in the prologue. Moreover, the chorus provides no fur-
ther background information relevant to the plot, details of the plot itself,
or information concerning the protagonist(s). Thus, while the ode functions
to foreshadow these events to a certain extent, its contents do not relate
explicitly with the particularities of the plot at this point in the drama.106
Similarly detached introductory odes occur in Madness of Hercules (125–
204) and Phaedra (274–359).

105
Tarrant acknowledges that this is characteristic of Seneca’s use of the chorus.
Tarrant, Seneca: Agamemnon, 181; cf. Davis, Shifting Song, 165.
106
Tarrant: “In Agamemnon the dramatic isolation of the chorus is complete: no line
of the ode reveals either a definite persona or a specific allusion to the situation revealed
by Thyestes’ ghost.” Tarrant, Seneca: Agamemnon, 181; cf. Davis, Shifting Song, 165ff.
 6.3 Functions of Tragic Choruses in Senecan Tragedy 295

The chorus’ seeming detachment from the plot is evident in choral stasi-
ma elsewhere. For example, the second ode in Oedipus, which consists of a
hymn to Bacchus (403–508), may appear at first glance to be entirely
unrelated to the particulars of the plot, as the contents of the hymn, which
consist entirely of the recounting of various exploits of Bacchus and his
followers, do not include anything that would conjure the characters or
events in this particular play. Instead, the hymn’s connections to the sur-
rounding plot are vague, implicit, and/or tangential. A hymn to Bacchus re-
lates tangentially to the plot insofar as the action is taking place in Thebes,
a city which in this and several other myths maintains a special relation-
ship with the god. In addition, several of the exploits of Bacchus recounted
in the hymn might be understood to reflect aspects of Oedipus’ own char-
acter in the play. Similarly detached odes can be identified elsewhere in
Senecan tragedy, where the exigency for an ode might depend somehow on
the dramatic circumstances of the plot (e.g., a wedding-song after Jason’s
wedding), but the contents of which do not relate explicitly to the plot
itself.
The apparent disconnection of many of the choral odes from the sur-
rounding plot might thus be understood as a continuation of a choral tra-
jectory evident in the increasingly detached odes of Euripides. F. Leo goes
so far as to claim that in this sense the choruses in Seneca’s tragedies are
analogous to choral embolima in the Classical period.107 Others, without
going so far, nevertheless maintain that this detachment from the plot
constitutes evidence of the decline of the relevance and importance of the
chorus in post-Classical tragedy. 108 Others, however, acknowledge the ex-
tent to which choral odes that do not appear immediately relevant to the
particular plot details of the tragedy nevertheless relate to thematic elements
developed elsewhere in the play. Several of the choral odes considered
above, for example, while not explicitly related to the surrounding dra-
matic material, nonetheless contextualize it in various ways.109

107
Friedrich Leo, “Die Composition der Chorlieder Senecas,” RhM 52 (1897): 511ff.
108
Mendell, Our Seneca, 135; Wilhelm Marx, Funktion und Form der Chorlieder in
den Seneca-Tragödien (Köln: Peter Kappes, 1932).
109
David J. Bishop, “The Choral Odes of Seneca: Theme and Development” (Ph.D.
diss., University of Pennsylvania, 1964); Davis, Shifting Song; Christoph Kugelmeier,
“Chorische Reflexion und dramatische Handlung bei Seneca – einige Beobachtungen zur
Phaedra,” in Der Chor im antiken und modernen Drama, 139–169; Ann Reynolds
Lawler Dewey, “The Chorus in Senecan Tragedy Exclusive of Hercules Oetaeus and
Octavia” (Ph.D. diss., Columbia University, 1968).
296 Chapter 6: Forms/Functions of the Tragic Chorus: 4th C. and Beyond

The Voice of the Senecan Chorus

The issue of the voice of the chorus is complicated by the fact that so often
the dramatic identities of the chorus are unknown, and by the frequent
detachment of the choral lyrics from the dramatic plot. It is difficult, on the
one hand, to identify the contents of choral songs as typical of young
women or fearless soldiers, etc., when the identities of the characters are
unknown.110 On the other hand, the choral lyrics are rarely so consistent
and conventional as to be able to associate them positively with a particu-
lar group, and in many cases the choral lyrics could be assigned just as
easily to one group as to another.111

The Voice of the Chorus as a Character

Despite these difficulties, it is possible to say something about the voice of
the chorus in Senecan tragedy. Oftentimes, the voice of the chorus can be
understood to represent simply the voice of the dramatic characters rep-
resented by it. That is, the lyrics of the chorus often consist of reactions to
dramatic events, and seem to be determined primarily by the exigencies of
the tragedy, e.g., lament over a horrific death, anxiety over impending
events, etc. In other words, the voice of the chorus in such instances does
not reflect a perspective outside of the drama, e.g., the voice of the author,
or the community, but rather a perspective that might be expected from
a(ny) character in the play.
At the same time, commentators acknowledge Stoic leanings in Sene-
ca’s tragedies generally, and in the voice of the chorus in particular.112 As
noted above, Stoic principles are regularly advocated by the chorus. At the
same time, Stoic philosophical elements are not consistently advocated
throughout Senecan tragedies, and appear much less conspicuously than in
his other letters and treatises.113 This can also be said of the Senecan
chorus, which often advocates non-Stoic philosophical principles,114 and in
110
Often the contents of the choral songs are mined for clues as to the identity of the
chorus.
111
Mendell, Our Seneca, 133–134.
112
Berthe Marti, “Seneca’s Tragedies: A New Interpretation,” TAPA 76 (1945): 216–
245; Thomas F. Curley, The Nature of Senecan Drama (Rome: Edizioni dell’Ateneo,
1986), 19; Norman T. Pratt, “The Stoic Basis of Senecan Drama,” TAPA 79 (1948): 1–11;
Fantham, Seneca’s Troades, 15–19; Tarrant, Seneca’s Thyestes, 22–25.
113
Anthony J. Boyle, “Senecan Tragedy: Twelve Propositions,” in The Imperial Muse:
Ramus Essays on Roman Literature of the Empire (ed. Anthony J. Boyle; Melbourne:
Aureal, 1988), 78–101; Joachim Dingel, Seneca und die Dichtung (Heidelberg: C.
Winter, 1974); Denis Henry and Elizabeth Walker, “Tacitus and Seneca,” GR 10 (1963):
98–110; Davis, Shifting Song, 125–183.
114
So, for example, the chorus promotes Epicurean ideals of the universality of mis-
fortune (Tro. 1009–1055), a pastoral life over and against city living (Herc. fur. 125–
 6.3 Functions of Tragic Choruses in Senecan Tragedy 297

fact sometimes opposes Stoic ideals.115 So, while the chorus could advocate
Stoic ideals and principles, it was not used consistently in this way, and
thus cannot be thought to represent a consistent Stoic “voice” throughout
his plays. Ultimately, as in Greek tragedy – and perhaps even more so –
the chorus in Seneca’s plays could represent the voices of different char-
acters, positions, and/or philosophical views, as required by the demands
and exigencies of the plot. So, in those instances in which the chorus took
on what appeared to be the “voice” of an extra-dramatic character (Stoic or
otherwise), it is reasonable to suspect that this voice may have represented
the voice of the poet, or the community itself. However, as in Classical
tragedy, it is very difficult to determine the source of this choral “voice”
with any certainty.

The Chorus as Implied Audience

To the extent that the choruses in Senecan tragedy offered reflections upon
the surrounding dramatic action, and by doing so contextualized the dra-
matic events in various ways, it can be considered in terms of the theory of
the “implied spectator.” That is, choral lyrics can be understood to have
functioned to lead the audience to a particular response to, and/or under-
standing of, the dramatic events. For example, the audience might be led
sympathize with Jason in light of the chorus’ sympathetic position towards
him in Medea, or to adopt the chorus’ explanation of the universe as ordered
by the gods in such a way that human actions have particular consequen-
ces.
At the same time, the audience may have responded to dramatic events
differently than the chorus, even to reject the philosophical or mythological-
theological perspective with which the chorus framed dramatic events. In
any event, the notion of the chorus as an “implied spectator” assumes that
chorus, as a kind of “audience” within the drama, offered reflections on the
surrounding dramatic action in such a way as to provoke the actual audi-
ence to consider their own positions with respect to the dramatic action.

204), and the benefits of leisure (Thyestes 336–403). Davis, Shifting Song, 125–183. For
examples of principles that are often taken to represent Stoic ideals but in fact represent
philosophical and/or literary commonplaces, see Howard Vernon Canter, Rhetorical
Elements in the Tragedies of Seneca (Champaign, Ill.: University of Illinois Press, 1925),
40–55.
115
For instance, in Trojan Women, the chorus emphasizes the role of Chaos in life
(400), while in Madness of Hercules and Trojan Women, the chorus describes the journey
of the dead into the Underworld (Herc. fur. 830–892; Tro. 156–163). See Anthony J.
Boyle, “Hic Epulis Locus: The Tragic Worlds of Seneca’s Agamemnon and Thyestes,” in
Seneca Tragicus: Ramus Essays on Senecan Drama (ed. Anthony J. Boyle; Berwick,
Australia: Aureal, 1983), 218–220.
 Chapter 7

Revelation’s Hymns as Choral Lyrics

Having established a taxonomy of tragic choral forms and functions

throughout ancient tragedy, it remains to evaluate Revelation’s hymns, and
those who sing the hymns, in terms of this taxonomy. In what follows, I
consider the groups of characters who sing Revelation’s hymns in terms of
tragic choruses, as well as the forms and functions of the hymns them-
selves in terms of tragic choral lyrics.

7.1 A Chorus in Revelation?

7.1.1 Method
It is worth considering first the theoretical basis for taking up such a
project in the first place. Those who have gone furthest in considering the
hymns and their singers in terms of ancient tragic choruses and choral
lyrics have most often done so as part of a larger project of considering
Revelation as a whole as a kind of ancient Christian tragedy. The problem
with grounding a consideration of the choral function of Revelation’s
hymns in the notion that Revelation as a whole constitutes a kind of tra-
gedy is quite simply that Revelation cannot be characterized as a tragedy
on the basis of any reasonable evaluation of the structural, formal, and
functional dynamics of the ancient tragic genre. Revelation fails to con-
form to so many of the most basic conventions of the genre. To cite just a
few examples: (1) The content of Revelation is presented as a narration of
a vision of the author, and not as a progression of speech and dialogue
between characters; (2) The structure of the text does not follow the con-
ventional tragic format (i.e., scene-chorus-scene-chorus), and includes sev-
eral structural elements that simply never appear in any form in tragedy,
e.g., the letters in Revelation 2 and 3; and (3) Scenes are neither clearly
nor regularly divided by the entrances and exits of the characters. By con-
trast, Revelation very clearly adheres to many of the generic conventions
of ancient apocalypses, prophecy, and letters.1

1
For considerations of the genre of Revelation, see John J. Collins, “Pseudonymity,
Historical Reviews, and the Genre of the Revelation of John,” CBQ 39.3 (1977): 329–
 7.1 A Chorus in Revelation? 299

And yet, I argue that the forms and functions of Revelation’s hymns do,
in fact, evoke choruses and choral lyrics of ancient tragedy. But I construct
this argument with a different theoretical basis, and consider Revelation’s
hymns in terms of tragic choral lyrics apart from the question of the extent
to which Revelation conforms to the conventions of ancient tragedy as a
whole. The basis for such a move is grounded in the premise that constitu-
tive elements of a(ny) text are influenced not only by the conventions asso-
ciated with the primary genre(s) of the text as a whole, but also by any num-
ber of conventions outside of the primary genre(s).2 Individual elements in
the text (e.g., hymns) were not necessarily constricted by the conventions
of a particular genre, but were most likely influenced by forms from other
genres. As such, any element in a text might bear formal and generic simi-
larities with similar elements in other genres. As a result, the appearance of
a particular element in a text would have conjured various networks of
references and relationships in the minds of the audience of the text.
Thus, the interpretive possibilities for the constitutive elements of a text
– in this case Revelation – ought not be restricted to a consideration of
these elements solely in terms of the conventions of the primary genre(s)
to which the text conforms, but rather explored in light of any possible
networks of relationships that the elements share with similar forms in
other genres. In practice, scholars make this interpretive move all the time.
For example, the songs sung in response to the destruction of Babylon in
Rev 18:1–24 have been considered in terms of the formal and structural
conventions of lament, apart from the question of whether or not Revel-
ation as a whole might be considered a kind of lament, and apart from the
question of whether or not the lament constitutes a constitutive element of
the genre apocalypse, or prophecy, etc.3 The very fact that hymns in Revel-
ation are considered in terms of their formal and functional similarities
with all sorts of hymns in the wider Greek and Roman world, and entirely
apart from any question of the extent to which hymns constituted an

343; Schüssler-Fiorenza, “Apokalypsis and Propheteia,” 133–158; Eugene M. Boring,

“The Apocalypse as Christian Prophecy: A Discussion of the Issues Raised by the Book
of Revelation for the Study of Early Christian Prophecy,” in Society of Biblical Literature
1974 Seminar Papers (ed. George MacRae; Cambridge, Mass.: SBL, 1974), 2:43–62;
David Hellholm, “The Problem of Apocalyptic Genre and the Apocalypse of John,”
Semeia 36 (1986): 13–64; Martin Karrer, Die Johannesoffenbarung als Brief: Studien zu
ihrem literarischen, historischen und theologischen Ort (FRLANT 140; Göttingen: Van-
denhoeck & Ruprecht, 1986); Frederick D. Mazzaferri, The Genre of the Book of Revel-
ation from a Source-Critical Perspective (BZNW 54; Berlin/New York: Walter de
Gruyter, 1989); Aune, Revelation, lxx–xc; Bauckham, Theology, 1–17.
2
This premise applies both to those elements that appear to be requisite features of a
text according to its primary genre(s), and to those elements that do not appear to con-
form to the conventions of the primary genre(s) of the text.
3
Yarbro Collins, “Revelation 18: Taunt-Song or Dirge?,” 185–202.
300 Chapter 7: Revelation’s Hymns as Choral Lyrics

integral generic element of apocalypses, or prophecy, etc., testifies to the

value of considering individual elements of a text in light of various net-
works of reference outside of the particular genre in which the element is
found.
Given the popularity of drama in the 1st c. C.E., it is reasonable to
consider dramatic forms as possible networks of reference for various
elements in the book of Revelation, without going so far as to claim that
Revelation constitutes a kind of drama, and in fact quite apart from the
question of whether or not other elements in Revelation can be considered
in terms of ancient drama. The methodology proposed here accords with
that of several recent biblical scholars who have considered elements of
other biblical texts, especially the book of Job and the Gospel accounts, in
terms of the conventions of ancient drama, apart from the question of the
extent to which the texts in their entirety can be understood as drama.4
Thus, in what follows, I consider the forms and functions of Revel-
ation’s hymns, and those who sing the hymns, in terms of tragic choral
lyrics, and tragic choruses, respectively. I first demonstrate that the 24
Elders most closely resemble a tragic chorus, insofar as several dimensions
of their portrayal in Revelation conform to conventions of the chorus as it
appeared in ancient tragedy, including: (1) their identities as Elders, their
number, and relation to the main characters; (2) choreographic formations;
and (3) the presence of a chorus-leader. Following this, I demonstrate that
several aspects of the portrayal of the other groups of characters who sing
hymns might be considered in terms of a tragic chorus, especially the four
Living Creatures, though the extent to which they resemble tragic choruses

4
E.g., George L. Parsenios, Rhetoric and Drama in the Johannine Lawsuit Motif
(WUNT 258; Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2010); George Mlakuzhyil, S.J., The Christo-
centric Literary Structure of the Fourth Gospel (Roma: Editrice Pontifico Instituto
Biblico, 1987); J. Robert C. Cousland, “The Choral Crowds in the Tragedy According to
St. Matthew,” in Ancient Fiction: The Matrix of Early Christian and Jewish Narrative
(ed. Jo-Ann Brandt, Charles W. Hedrick, and Chris Shea; Atlanta: SBL, 2005), 255–274.
More often than not, however, scholars argue that such elements warrant the designation
of these texts as drama. E.g., Horace M. Kallen, The Book of Job as a Greek Tragedy
(New York: Hill & Wang, 1959); William Whidbee, “The Comedy of Job,” in On Humor
and the Comic in the Hebrew Bible (ed. Yehud T. Radday and Athalya Brenner; Sheffield:
Almond Press, 1990), 217–250; David Wolfers, “Job: A Universal Drama,” Jewish Bible
Quarterly 21.2 (1993): 80–89; F. R. Montgomery Hitchcock, “Is the Fourth Gospel
Drama?,” in The Gospel of John as Literature: An Anthology of Twentieth-Century Per-
spectives (ed. Mark W. G. Stibbe; trans. David E. Orton; Leiden: Brill, 1993), 15–24;
Clayton R. Bowen, “The Fourth Gospel as Dramatic Material,” JBL 49 (1930): 292–305;
C. Milo Connick, “The Dramatic Character of the Fourth Gospel,” JBL 67 (1948): 159–
169; Jo-Ann A. Brandt, Dialogue and Drama: Elements of Greek Tragedy in the Fourth
Gospel (Peabody, Mass.: Hendrickson, 2004); Stephen H. Smith, “A Divine Tragedy:
Mark,” NovT 37 (1995): 209–231.
 7.1 A Chorus in Revelation? 301

is less conspicuous. Finally, I consider Revelation’s hymns in terms of

choral lyrics of tragedy, evaluating the hymns in light of the various types
of choral lyrics that occur in tragedy, the formal characteristics of tragic
choral lyrics (i.e., meter, dialect, singing, instrumentation), and the
varieties of the functions of choral lyrics.

7.1.2 The 24 Elders

The Identity of the 24 Elders, Number, and Relation to Main Characters
Of those aspects relating to the depiction of the Elders in Revelation that
can be considered in terms of the depiction of choruses in ancient tragedy,
perhaps the most conspicuous is the fact that they are identified as Elders.
In general terms, they represent a homogeneous group of characters in
terms of gender and age, and are identified in the text only by reference to
these characteristics.5 More specifically, choruses are very often identified
in ancient tragedy as “elders,” such that the appearance of such a group in
Revelation warrants a comparison. Moreover, the fact that these Elders,
unlike every one of the other characters in the throne-room, do not clearly
represent any particular personages from early Jewish and/or Christian
tradition,6 prompts reasonable speculation that their identities in the text
may be wrapped up entirely in their (generic) status as elders, and further
suggests that they might be evaluated as characters primarily in terms of
their association with analogous characters from ancient tragedy.
The number of Elders – twenty-four – falls within the range of the num-
ber of tragic chorus members as they are known from antiquity, the high
end of which may have been 50 in Aeschylus’ Suppliants, a mid-range at
perhaps 12 to 15 in the time of Sophocles and Euripides, and the low end
perhaps in the single digits by the Hellenistic and/or Roman period. Thus,
while the number of tragic choreutai is never explicitly acknowledged to
be twenty-four in ancient tragedy, 7 twenty-four would have been a reason-
able number of characters if they were indeed meant to be portrayed as a
kind of chorus.

5
In ancient tragedy, choral characters are sometimes also identified by their occupa-
tion (e.g., sailors), their current predicament (e.g., captives), and/or their geographic
provenance (e.g., Trojan captives, Theban elders, etc.). However, when the tragic chorus
is comprised of elders, they are identified only in terms of their gender, age, and geo-
graphic provenance, and not in terms of an occupation. The description of the Elders in
Revelation thus conforms to the convention of tragedy in this respect. The Elders in Rev-
elation differ from tragic elders only insofar as they are not associated with a particular
geographic location, though it could be argued that their provenance in the text is heaven.
6
Despite attempts to associate the Elders with one or more historical entities, includ-
ing the twenty-four courses of priests, the 12 tribes of Israel and the 12 apostles, etc.
7
Interestingly, twenty-four is precisely the number of choreutai in Old Comedy.
302 Chapter 7: Revelation’s Hymns as Choral Lyrics

Finally, the relationship of the Elders to the main characters in Revel-

ation can be considered in terms of the typically close relationships of the
chorus and the main characters in ancient tragedy. On one hand, the Elders
are depicted as having a close bond with the main characters. For example,
the chorus occupies the same space within the heavenly throne-room as the
One Seated upon the Throne and the Lamb, and thus shares a kind of ex-
alted status with these characters. Moreover, the positive outcomes for the
main characters result in positive responses of the Elders. In other words,
the Elders seem to share, at least to a certain extent, in the plight of the
One Seated upon the Throne and the Lamb.
At the same time, the Elders occupy a subordinate position vis-à-vis the
main characters. Just as tragic choruses were subordinate to the main char-
acters both in terms of social status and dramatic functionality (the chorus
does not have the authority to act in the same way as the protagonists, to
make speeches), the Elders are portrayed in a subordinate position to the
main characters in each of these ways. The subordinate relationship of the
Elders to the One Seated upon the Throne and the Lamb is most clearly
established by the very fact that the primary action of the Elders consists
of giving obeisance and worshipping them.8 Their subordination is also
demonstrated by the fact that their agency is limited in the text. While the
Lamb opens seals and unleashes destruction upon God’s enemies, and God
presides over their ultimate judgment, the actions of the Elders consist
solely of praising God and the Lamb – they do nothing else.9

Formations and Movements

The Elders are depicted throughout Revelation in a circular formation.
This much is made clear in the initial description of the Elders, where they
are depicted seating on twenty-four thrones “in a circle around the throne”
(Rev 4:4), a position they appear to maintain throughout Revelation. This
circular orientation, which appears to be mirrored by several other charac-
ters/entities in the throne-room,10 might be understood in light of the
circular formation of the chorus in tragedy. Moreover, the depiction of the
Elders in a circular orientation around a central object, i.e., the throne, also
makes sense in light of the conventions of ancient tragedy. In theatres
throughout the ancient Mediterranean, and across time-periods, an altar
(thymele) was a requisite part of the theatre complex. In those theatres in

8
Cf. Rev 4:9–10; 5:8, 14; 7:11; 11:16; 19:4.
9
At least not as a group. As we shall see below, an individual elder engages in a
conversation with the Seer at Rev 7:13–14.
10
E.g., the rainbow (4:3), the four Living Creatures (4:6), and the myriad of angels
(5:11, 7:11).
 7.1 A Chorus in Revelation? 303

which the orchestra was circular, or nearly circular,11 the altar often stood
in the very center of the orchestra. It is widely thought that the tragic
chorus would have, at various points throughout a tragedy, maintained a
circular orientation around the altar, with the altar serving as the geo-
graphic center-point of the choral formation, and the focal point of the
dramatic action. Thus, the depiction of the Elders in a circular formation
around the throne might be considered in terms of the circular formation of
the chorus around the altar in tragedy, whereby the central religious object
in his throne-room scene, i.e., the throne of God and the Lamb, took the
place of the central religious structure in the Greek theatre, the altar of
Dionysos, and likewise served as the geographic center and focal point for
the dramatic action.

A Chorus-Leader?
A final point concerning the evaluation of the Elders in Revelation in
terms of choruses of ancient tragedy relates to the dialogue that takes place
between “one of the Elders” and the Seer in Rev 7:13–14. In the first
verse, the Elder asks the Seer about the identity and provenance of the
Great Multitude, to which the Seer responds in the next verse that the
Elder himself is the “one who knows.” The Elder then completes the verse
by revealing the identities of the Great Multitude as those who have “come
out of the great ordeal, and who have washed their robes and made them
white in the blood of the Lamb.” This interaction, in which one of the
Elders is explicitly singled out to participate in dialogue with another char-
acter, might be considered in terms of the convention of choral dialogue in
ancient tragedy in which only one chorus-member, e.g., the chorus-leader,
spoke in dialogue with other actor(s).

7.1.3 Other Groups of Heavenly Characters as Choruses?

Most of the hymnic stanzas in Revelation are sung by other groups of char-
acters, including the Living Creatures (4:8; 5:8–10, 14; 7:11–12; 19:4), the
Great Multitude of martyred Christians (7:9–10; 19:1–3, 6–8), “loud
voices” (11:15; 12:10–12), the “myriads of myriads of angels” (5:11–12),
“all creatures in heaven and on earth and under the earth and in the sea”
(5:13), and “those who conquered the Beast” (15:2–4). The portrayal of
such characters singing hymns thus raises the question of whether or not
they too could be considered in terms of tragic choruses.
The very fact that such characters are presented as groups of characters
prompts a consideration of them in terms of dramatic choruses, as any

11
Including modified Hellenistic theatres in the Roman period, which were especially
common in Asia Minor. See Sear, Roman Theatres, 24–25.
304 Chapter 7: Revelation’s Hymns as Choral Lyrics

group of characters given speaking lines in ancient tragedy by definition

constituted a chorus. Moreover, the fact that these groups of characters
sing hymns suggests their choral character. While non-choral characters
could sing hymns in ancient tragedy, a hymn was much more likely to have
been sung by a chorus. Thus, the collective identity of these groups of
characters, considered alongside the fact that they sing hymns, suggests
that they might be considered in terms of their choral dimensions.
The formal characteristics of these groups in Revelation do not, how-
ever, quite as closely match those of tragic choruses. To begin, the groups
only tenuously resemble tragic choruses in terms of composition. Some of
the groups might be said to be homogeneous insofar as they are each com-
prised of the same kinds of entities (e.g., the Living Creatures, the Myriad
of Angels, and the Great Multitude), while the others seem to include dis-
parate entities (e.g., all creatures in heaven and on earth). At any rate, the
functions of the members of each group are homogeneous, and each group
clearly occupies a subordinate status to the main characters. However, none
of these groups are identified with the kinds of generic terms that are so con-
sistently used to characterize the identities and statuses of tragic choruses
(“elders,” “maidens,” “soldiers,” etc.). As for the size of each of these groups
of characters, only the number of Living Creatures (four) is ever revealed,
a number which falls within the range (though on the low-side) of the
number of chorus-members that might have participated in the perform-
ance of an actual tragedy in the Hellenistic or Roman period.12 In every
other case, however, there is no clear indication of the precise number of
the group, though they each appear to represent numbers of characters that
far exceed the numbers of characters ever represented by tragic choruses.13
In addition to considerations of the formal aspects of the portrayal of
these groups, the spatial orientation of the characters must be considered.
Like the 24 Elders, both the Living Creatures and Myriads of Angels are
said to comprise a circle around the throne (4:6; 5:11). Thus, the Creatures
and Angels may likewise evoke the circular formations of choruses around
12
The number of Living Creatures was probably determined on the basis of the fact
that four was the number of Creatures depicted in Isaiah 6 and Ezekiel 1. At any rate, the
number of Living Creatures could be considered in terms of the number of tragic
choreutai.
13
This is clear of the “myriads of myriads and thousands of thousands of angels”
(5:11–12), “every creature in heaven and on earth and under the earth and in the sea, and
all that is in them” (5:13), and the “Great Multitude that no one could count” (7:9). So,
too, the number of “those who conquered the Beast” (15:2), a group which appears to
refer proleptically to those “armies of heaven” who in 19:14–21 actually conquer the
Beast, is quite high. While a small number of choreutai might represent a greater number
of characters than actually appear in the theatre (i.e., a chorus of a half-dozen women
might be intended to represent a larger number of maidens), never in Classical, Hellenistic,
or Roman tragedy, does a chorus represent a group of characters nearly as large as these.
 7.2 Choral Lyrics in Revelation? 305

the central altar in ancient tragedy. The association of the Living Creatures
and Angels with tragic choruses in terms of their circular orientation may
be weakened by the fact that such characters appear in circular formations
in antecedent Jewish literature.14 In other words, the circular formation of
the Living Creatures and Angels may be explained entirely in terms of the
fact that they were imagined in antecedent literature to have maintained a
circular orientation, and not necessarily because they are conceptualized on
the model of tragic choruses. At any rate, none of the other groups are
imagined to have taken this circular form.
Thus, while none of these groups who sing hymns in Revelation as
clearly resemble tragic choruses as do the 24 Elders, they do bear some
formal similarities. The appearance of multiple groups in Revelation that
bear resemblances to tragic choruses may be considered in light of the
convention of multiple (secondary) choruses in ancient tragedy. While the
appearance of several “choruses” in Revelation would have represented a
deviation from the normal practice of including only one secondary chorus
in ancient tragedy (and in the case of Aeschylus’ Suppliants perhaps two
secondary choruses), the appearance of multiple groups of characters in
Revelation might be considered in light of the appearance of multiple
choruses in tragedy.
At any rate, the preceding discussions have not accounted for all those
characters who actually sing hymns in Revelation, as there are at least two
hymns sung by characters that bear absolutely no similarities with tragic
choruses, i.e., the angel of water in Rev 16:5–6, and the altar in Rev 16:7.
Thus, whether or not one or another group in Revelation can be considered
in terms of a tragic chorus, it is critical to note that at least these two
hymns are sung by those that could not be characterized as a chorus.

7.2 Choral Lyrics in Revelation?

7.2.1 Classifying Revelation’s Hymns in Terms of
the Various Types of Choral Lyrics
Classifying Revelation’s hymns in terms of various types of choral lyrics
in ancient tragedy is complicated by the fact that Revelation is not pre-
sented according to the structure of ancient tragedy. In ancient tragedy, the
content of a play was presented as a succession of scenes that were deline-
ated by entrances and exits of the actors – the beginning of a scene defined
by the entrance of an actor (or actors) onto a stage previously unoccupied
14
In the LXX, the cherubim, who appear to be one of the conceptual models for the
Living Creatures in Revelation, are stationed “in a circle” around the throne (Isa 6:2).
Likewise, the angels are arranged in a circular formation in 1 En. 71:8.
306 Chapter 7: Revelation’s Hymns as Choral Lyrics

by any other actors, and the end of a scene marked by the exit of the
actor(s) from the stage. As such, various types of choral lyrics in tragedy
are typically classified on the basis of their position within the structural
framework of the drama, i.e., choral lyrics that occur in-between scenes as
opposed to those that occur during scenes. In short, Revelation lacks this
basic structural pattern, and is rather presented as a series of visions of the
author, which are demarcated by similar introductory phrases, e.g., “And
then I saw …,” “After this I looked …,” or “After this I heard …”15 Thus,
insofar as Revelation lacks, strictly speaking, the clear structural hallmarks
of ancient tragedy, Revelation’s hymns are not as easily classified in the
structural terms used to classify choral lyrics.
Despite this, it is nevertheless possible to evaluate Revelation’s hymns
in terms of the basic structure of choral lyrics in tragedy, i.e., in terms of
their position vis-à-vis the surrounding content as presented in the visions,
in order to see whether there are any similarities between Revelation’s
hymns and tragic choral lyrics in this respect. The content of Revelation’s
visions can be considered in terms of the sequences of events presented
therein, which can be roughly delineated according to the occurrence of
particular actions involving the same characters in the same time and place.
For example, the sealing of the 144,000 constitutes a distinct sequence of
events insofar as it conveys the actions of a particular group of characters
in a demarcated time and place. This sequence is clearly distinguished
from the events described in the surrounding narratives (i.e., the opening
of the first six seals by the Lamb, the actions of the Living Creatures, etc.,
in 6:1–17, and the identification and praise of the Great Multitude in 7:9–
17).16 So, despite the fact that the structure of Revelation does not, strictly
speaking, follow the structural principles of ancient tragedy, sequences of
action in Revelation can be considered in roughly similar terms as those
that are used to define scenes in ancient tragedy.17
Considered in this light, most of Revelation’s hymns occur during a
dramatic sequence of action, and in fact appear to constitute part of the
action itself. For example, hymns are often sung by characters immediately

15
The precise structure of Revelation is a matter of considerable debate.
16
In some cases, a single dramatic sequence comprises an entire vision. For example,
the opening of the six seals, the sealing of the 144,000, and the Great Multitude, each
constitute an entire vision, as determined by the fact that each begins with an introduc-
tory formula, e.g., “After this I saw …” In other instances, a single vision contains within
it several dramatic sequences. For example, Rev 10:1–12:18 constitutes a single vision,
yet the vision includes several distinct sequences of events, including the Angel with the
little scroll (10:1–11), the Two Witnesses (11:1–14), the blowing of the seventh trumpet
(11:15–19), and the Woman and the Dragon (12:1–18).
17
Many scholars, especially those who have considered the dramatic character of
other biblical texts, often characterize these sequences as scenes.
 7.2 Choral Lyrics in Revelation? 307

after they have been introduced, as in Rev 4:8; 5:11–13; 7:9–10; 15:2–4,
and/or presented as taking place during a particular dramatic action, as in
Rev 4:11; 5:9–10; 7:11; 11:15–18; 15:2–4; 16:5–7. In only two instances
do hymns occur at points that might be considered in-between dramatic
sequences: Rev 12:10–12; 19:1–8. With this general structural observation
in mind, it is possible to consider the hymns in more detail in light of
various types of tragic choral lyrics.
On one hand, none of Revelation’s hymns (neither those that appear
during dramatic sequences, nor those that occur in-between dramatic se-
quences) bear any structural similarities with tragic choral lyrics that occur
during scenes, including lyric dialogue, non-lyric dialogue, and other non-
lyric choral utterances. That is, the hymns are in no way dialogical, and
thus cannot be compared with either lyric or non-lyric dialogic utterances
of the chorus. Moreover, insofar as the hymns are lyric to the extent that
they are sung and appear to be accompanied by instruments, and represent
substantive theological reflections on the surrounding dramatic material,
they do not resemble non-lyric, non-dialogical choral utterances. This is not
to say that no such elements ever appear in Revelation – in fact they do –
but to point out that none of Revelation’s hymns functions in any of these
ways. On the other hand, none of Revelation’s hymns resemble the choral
parodos or exodos. That is, the first hymn in Revelation does not function
like a tragic parodos as a general introduction to the narrative, setting the
stage (so to speak) for the characters and plot-lines, nor does the last hymn
serve as a formal conclusion to the text.
This leaves one major type of tragic choral lyric to be considered, the
stasimon. Indeed, two hymns clearly resemble choral stasima insofar as they
appear in-between dramatic sequences and demarcate one dramatic sequence
from another (12:10–12; 19:1–8). Like choral stasima, which in Classical
tragedy demarcated entire scenes, and which in Roman tragedy demarcated
entire Acts and sometimes smaller dramatic units within Acts, these hymns
appear to act as intermediary elements between dramatic sequences.18
This evidence suggests that most of Revelation’s hymns are evaluated
most profitably not in terms of tragic choral lyrics generally, but in terms
of tragic choral hymns in particular. First, insofar as Revelation’s hymns
conform to the formal standards of ancient hymns, as they consist of the
sung praise of a god, and include an invocation of the god, a listing of
divine epithets, attributes, and exploits, and (sometimes) a particular re-
18
Interestingly, many of those hymns that appear during dramatic scenes (i.e., Rev
4:8–11; 5:9–14; 11:15–18), also appear to function in structural terms like choral stasima,
insofar as they occur at or very near the end of a dramatic sequence, and appear to con-
stitute an intermediate element prior to the beginning of a new dramatic sequence. Such
hymns cannot be characterized as stasima, however, simply on the basis of the fact that
they each clearly occur during a dramatic sequence.
308 Chapter 7: Revelation’s Hymns as Choral Lyrics

quest of the deity, they much more clearly resemble hymns that appear in
tragedies than they do choral lyrics in general.
Second, the fact that the hymns that occur during dramatic sequences in
Revelation bear no affinities with the most common types of choral lyrics
during scenes makes sense in light of the evidence of hymns in tragedy, as
choral hymns in ancient tragedy never appeared in such forms. At the same
time, the very fact that hymns do occur during dramatic sequences in Rev-
elation is easily understood in terms of the conventions of tragic hymns,
which regularly occurred during dramatic scenes. Even the two hymns that
bear formal similarities with choral stasima can be reasonably considered
qua tragic hymns, insofar as choral stasima were frequently comprised
entirely of a hymn. In other words, it makes just as much sense to consider
these two hymns structurally in terms of tragic choral hymns that took the
place of a choral stasimon, as it does to consider them in terms of choral
stasima generally.
Finally, considering Revelation’s hymns not in terms of choral lyrics
generally, but in terms of tragic hymns, makes sense of the fact that some
of Revelation’s hymns are sung by characters that do not in any way
resemble a chorus. That is, insofar as tragic choral lyrics are by definition
lyrics sung by a chorus, those hymns sung by individual characters in
Revelation are not easily viewed in light of choral lyrics ipso facto. When
considered in terms of tragic hymns, however, the fact that Revelation’s
hymns are sung by individuals makes better sense, as hymns were some-
times sung by individual characters in tragedy.

7.2.2 Revelation’s Hymns in Terms of the Formal Characteristics

of Tragic Choral Lyrics
Revelation’s hymns bear neither the metrical nor dialectical hallmarks of
tragic choral lyrics. Revelation’s hymns do not exhibit any of the metrical
properties distinctive to tragic choral lyrics in the Classical period, i.e.,
combinations of distinct metrical patterns to produce metrical strophes,
and repetition of metrical strophes (strophic responsion). This fact in and
of itself does not necessarily preclude a consideration of the hymns in
terms of choral lyrics, as the choral lyrics of Hellenistic and Roman
tragedy likewise appear not to evince these distinctive metrical character-
istics. However, Revelation’s hymns do not exhibit any metrical properties
whatsoever,19 and thus, Revelation’s hymns cannot be evaluated at all in
terms of the metrical characteristics of tragic choral lyrics from any period.
Nor do Revelation’s hymns reveal traces of the Doric dialect that some-
times characterized the choral lyrics of Classical tragedy. Such evidence
does not reveal much about Revelation’s hymns in terms of tragic choral
19
Nor for that matter do the surrounding narrative and dialogue in the text.
 7.2 Choral Lyrics in Revelation? 309

lyrics insofar as tragic choral lyrics in the Hellenistic and Roman periods
do not reveal any traces of the Doric dialect. In other words, if the hymns
do, in fact, reflect formal elements of tragic choral lyrics, the lack of Doric
coloring in Revelation’s hymns may be explained in terms of the fact that
Doric coloring in choral lyrics had altogether ceased by the Roman period.
While Revelation’s hymns do not bear the metrical or dialectical marks
of choral lyrics of ancient tragedy, or tragic hymns for that matter, the
musical dynamics may be likened to musical elements in tragic choral
lyrics. On one hand, insofar as each of Revelation’s hymns are said to be
sung, they might be considered in terms of tragic choral lyrics, the great
majority of which were sung. Thus, as in ancient tragedy, in which the
sung lyrics of the chorus constituted the majority of the musical elements
in ancient tragic theatre,20 so, too, do the hymns provide the majority of the
musical elements in Revelation.21 On the other hand, the hymns are said to
be accompanied by “harps” (κιθάρας).22 The very fact that the hymns would
have been accompanied by a musical instrument accords with what is
known about the performance of choral lyrics in tragedy. The fact that the
hymns are said to be accompanied by a kithara, in particular, might reflect
knowledge of the performance of tragic choral lyrics in Roman tragedy.
While the aulos appears to have been most common in Classical tragedy,
the lyre is said by Horace to have accompanied tragic choral lyrics in the
Roman period. Thus, the singing of hymns in Revelation to the accom-
paniment of a kithara, which belonged in the family of stringed instru-
ments that included the lyre, might be likened to the singing of choral
lyrics in Roman tragedy.
While the musical dynamics of the hymns in Revelation bear affinities
to choral musical elements in tragedy, they can just as easily be understood
in terms of the musical dynamics of hymns in particular. There were not,
as far as it is known, distinctive musical elements associated with hymns;
rather, the same kinds of musical dynamics that would have accompanied
choral lyrics in general would have accompanied hymns in particular. Thus,
20
This was the case especially in Classical tragedy, as the chorus provided nearly all
of the musical elements. Despite the fact that in Hellenistic and Roman tragedy, lyric
monodies were increasingly given to individual actors, the chorus appears to have con-
tinued to provide the majority of musicality by way of sung choral lyrics.
21
The only other musical elements appear in chapter 18, in which various groups of
characters sing laments over the destruction of “Babylon.” The clue that these laments
were imagined to have been sung lies in the words that were used to characterize the
laments. In one instance, a lament is introduced in the very same terms as the hymns, i.e.,
Rev 18:4: καὶ ἤκουσα ἄλλην φωνὴν ἐκ τοῦ οὐρανοῦ λέγουσαν. In every other instance,
the words used to introduce the laments suggest that the laments were imagined to have
been sung: ἔκραξεν (18:2); κλαύσουσιν καὶ κόψονται (18:9); κλαίουσιν καὶ πενθοῦσιν
(18:11); κλαίοντες καὶ πενθοῦντες (18:15, 18).
22
Rev 5:8; 15:2.
310 Chapter 7: Revelation’s Hymns as Choral Lyrics

the musical elements accompanying the hymns in Revelation can just as

easily be evaluated in terms of the musical dynamics of tragic hymns as
they can choral lyrics in general.

7.2.3 Revelation’s Hymns in Terms of the Functions of Tragic

Choral Lyrics vis-à-vis the Surrounding Dramatic Action
It remains to consider Revelation’s hymns in terms of the categories used
to describe the functions of choral lyrics vis-à-vis the surrounding dramatic
action. It will be recalled that all tragic choral lyrics can be divided roughly
into two functional categories: (1) Lyrics that move forward the dramatic
action; and (2) Lyrics that pause the dramatic action in order to frame it in
a particular light. In what follows, Revelation’s hymns are considered in
terms of the extent to which they function, or do not function, in each of
these ways.

Revelation’s Hymns Moving Forward the Dramatic Action

a) Introducing Characters: Introducing characters was one of the most fre-
quent and consistent contributions of the chorus in ancient tragedy. Simply
put, none of Revelation’s hymns function to introduce characters in the
text, in any way.
b) Synopsis of Present Circumstances: None of Revelation’s hymns can
be said to offer synopses of the present circumstances of the characters
and/or plot in a manner similar to choral lyrics in tragedy. There are indeed
(many) instances in which the hymns include comments that relate to the
plot, but they always do so in such a way as to contextualize information
that has already been presented in the narrative. In other words, the
contents of the hymns in Revelation could be said to relate to the present
circumstances primarily insofar as they comment upon the surrounding
narrative, which constitutes an entirely separate category of choral func-
tion, and which will be taken up below.
However, it will be recalled that oftentimes during the course of offer-
ing a synopsis of the current dramatic circumstances, the Classical tragic
chorus also offered a survey of past events leading to the present circum-
stances of the characters. Inasmuch as there are several instances in which
past events of the characters are revealed in the hymns of Revelation, they
might be considered in terms of tragic choral lyrics in this respect. For
example, the past creative acts of God are highlighted in 4:11, God is said
to have given blood to drink to those who have shed the blood of the saints
and the prophets in 16:6, and God is said to have judged the Great
Prostitute and avenged on her the blood of his servants in 19:2. Likewise,
the salvific act of Christ on the cross is announced in Rev 5:9–10. It is
critical to note that such descriptions of the past activities of these char-
 7.2 Choral Lyrics in Revelation? 311

acters function differently depending on the context in which they occur.

In most cases, hymnic descriptions of past events refer to actions that have
just occurred in the text. So, for instance, the claim that God has judged
the Great Prostitute and avenged the blood of his servants in 19:2 refers
specifically to events immediately preceding the hymn in 18:1–24. Like-
wise, the claim that God has given blood to drink to those who have shed
the blood of the saints and prophets in 16:6 refers to the destruction un-
leashed by the pouring of the bowls of wrath in the surrounding narrative
(16:1–21). Thus, insofar as hymnic accounts of past actions of the char-
acters refer to events that have just been described in the narrative, they
cannot be considered in terms of choral lyrics that introduce background
information relevant to the plot, but rather in terms of choral lyrics that
frame the surrounding action in a particular way.
There are, however, two examples in which hymns introduce background
information that is not merely a description of events that have just taken
place in the narrative. For example, in Rev 4:11, the Elders claim that God
is worthy to receive “glory, honor, and power” on account of the fact that
God “created all things.” Likewise, in Rev 5:9–10, the Elders and Crea-
tures proclaim that the Lamb, i.e., the exalted Christ, is worthy to open the
seals of the scroll on account of the salvific work that was accomplished
on the cross. While these hymns do clearly provide what could be charac-
terized as background information about these divine characters, it is critical
to note that the manner in which this background information is presented
conforms specifically to the convention of hymnic choral lyrics, and not of
choral lyrics generally. That is, background information presented in non-
hymnic choral lyrics tends to be expansive, touching on a wide-range of
topics relating to the characters and their plot-lines, and most often cover-
ing quite a long period of time. This information provides a kind of general
setting for the entire plot, and in this way could be said to advance the dra-
matic plot. By contrast, content that could be characterized as background
information in hymnic choral lyrics tends to highlight very specific attributes
of a deity, or particular exploits of a god(dess) that occurred at one particu-
lar time.23 Moreover, they relate very specifically to a particular dramatic
event. In other words, background information relating to the past exploits
of a god(dess) in a choral hymn functions more specifically to frame the
immediate surrounding dramatic action in a mythologycal-theological light.
Thus, insofar as the hymns in Rev 4:11 and 5:9–10 convey specific
exploits of the deities (i.e., God’s creation of the world, and Christ’s
salvific activity on the cross), as they relate to very particular events in the

23
This tragic phenomenon appears to have been a natural outgrowth of the fact that
this kind of information (i.e., a listing of divine attributes, past exploits of the deity, etc.)
was intrinsic to the hymnic genre.
312 Chapter 7: Revelation’s Hymns as Choral Lyrics

action (i.e., as justification for God’s cosmic sovereignty, and the Lamb’s
heavenly investiture, respectively), and not general information relating to
the broader plot of Revelation itself, they much more closely resemble
hymnic choral lyrics in tragedy than choral lyrics in general.
c) Foreshadowing: In a few instances, Revelation’s hymns could be said
to foreshadow future events that take place in the text. The clearest ex-
ample occurs in chapter 12, during the hymn that occurs after Michael and
his angels have expelled the Dragon from heaven and cast him onto the
earth (Rev 12:10–12). While the beginning of the hymn frames the expul-
sion of the Dragon from heaven in theological terms (i.e., to be the result
of the coming of God’s kingdom), the end of the hymn casts the Dragon’s
time on earth in a foreboding light:
But woe to the earth and the sea, for the Devil has come down to you with great wrath,
because he knows that his time is short! (Rev 12:12)

The last line of the hymn appears to foreshadow both the Dragon’s im-
pending persecution of the Christians, as well as the ultimate demise of the
Dragon, which is described in Rev 20:1–3, 7–10. Insofar as the hymn
creates a sense of foreboding over an event that takes place later in the
narrative, it can be evaluated in light of choral lyrics that regularly perform
a similar function in ancient tragedy.
Foreshadowing likewise occurs in two other hymns in Revelation. At
the end of the hymn in Rev 11:17–18, the coming of God’s “wrath” is pro-
claimed, and described in terms of a coming of the time for God’s “judg-
ment of the dead,” which includes both “rewarding [God’s] servants …,”
and “destroying those who destroy the earth.” This hymnic announcement
clearly presages God’s eschatological judgment, which occurs at the end of
Revelation, including specifically the rewards for God’s people (e.g., Rev
20:4–6; 21:5–8, 22–27; 22:1–5), and the ultimate destruction of God’s
adversaries (Rev 17:1–18:24; 19:17–21; 20:1–3, 7–10). Likewise, the end
of the hymn in Rev 15:3–4 includes a rhetorical question, “Lord, who will
not fear and glorify your name?” This is eventually followed by a pro-
nouncement that “all nations will come and worship before [God].” Such
hymnic elements appear to allude to the reality at the end of Revelation, in
which the New Jerusalem is filled with the glory of God and the Lamb, and
occupied by all those who worship them (Rev 22:1–5).
Insofar as each of these hymns clearly foreshadows events that take
place later in the text, they can be likened to tragic choral lyrics that per-
form a similar function. However, these examples differ from most tragic
choral lyrics in two particular ways. First, the fact that the hymns fore-
shadow events that are not altogether ominous constitutes a departure from
the conventions of choral lyrics in tragedy. Second, these hymns differ
from choral lyrics insofar as they each presage very specific events that
 7.2 Choral Lyrics in Revelation? 313

take place later in the text, in the precise terms that are eventually used to
characterize the future events themselves. In ancient tragedy, much more
often than not, foreshadowing is created through vague allusions, which
create a general sense of foreboding or impending disaster.
While future dramatic events might be foreshadowed by means of a
number of types of choral lyrics (e.g., parodos, stasimon, lyric-dialogue,
non-lyric choral utterances during scenes, etc.), it was sometimes the case
that information was foreshadowed by means of choral hymns. For example,
the impending battle for the city of Thebes is portended by the chorus by
means of a hymn in Aeschylus, Sept. 109–181. Likewise, the destruction
about to be unleashed by Phaedra’s unholy love for Hippolytos is fore-
shadowed in a choral hymn in Euripides, Hipp. 525–563. As these examples
demonstrate, choral hymns sometimes included contents that foreshadowed
events that would take place later in the play. Thus, the function of several
of Revelation’s hymns to foreshadow future dramatic events need not be
understood in terms of the functions of choral lyrics generally, but can be
reasonably understood in terms of this function of tragic hymns in particular.
d) An All-Purpose Dramatic Tool – Dramatic Audience, and Instrument
for Eliciting the Thoughts of the Characters, and/or Providing Relevant
Dramatic Information to the Characters: It will be recalled that oftentimes
the tragic chorus, on account of its constant presence in the orchestra, func-
tioned to accommodate dramatic action without itself playing an appreciable
role in the action. The chorus in such instances could be said to appear
primarily as a pretense for accomplishing some other dramatic end, e.g., to
provide an audience for a character’s speech, to elicit speech or dialogue of
the characters, and/or to convey some piece of dramatic information to a
character. Insofar as each of Revelation’s hymns are sung in response to
various events that take place in the text, the groups of characters who sing
them might be envisioned as a kind of dramatic audience to these events and
in this way compared with tragic choruses. So, too, in one instance does a
member of one of these groups of characters provide dramatic information
to another character, i.e., one of the Elders divulges the identity of the Great
Multitude in Rev 7:13–17. In so doing, this character evokes the tragic
chorus (or chorus-leader24), which regularly provided relevant dramatic in-
formation to characters. While these elements may reveal something about
the role of the characters in Revelation in terms of a tragic chorus, they say
nothing about the extent to which the hymns themselves might be con-
sidered in terms of tragic choral lyrics, as they do not involve the hymns.
The hymns themselves do not function as a means for achieving the
kinds of dramatic effects that were achieved by means of choral lyrics in

24
It is widely assumed that only the chorus-leader, and not the chorus as a whole,
participated in dialogue with the actor(s).
314 Chapter 7: Revelation’s Hymns as Choral Lyrics

ancient tragedy. For example, the hymns never appear in Revelation solely
as a pretext for eliciting speech or dialogue of other characters. Nor is
information ever revealed to one of the other characters by means of a
hymn. Thus, Revelation’s hymns do not resemble tragic choral lyrics to
advance the plot in these ways.
e) Summary of the Functions of Revelation’s Hymns to Advance the
Plot: A consideration of Revelation’s hymns in light of the functions of the
tragic choral lyrics to advance the dramatic plot (i.e., to function as a kind
of “narrator”) yields mixed results. To the extent that several of the hymns
foreshadow events that take place later in the text, they bear similarities to
tragic choral lyrics that perform a similar function. Moreover, the hymns
convey background information about the divine characters in ways that
resemble tragic choral hymns in particular. However, with respect to
“narrative” functions, similarities between Revelation’s hymns and tragic
choral lyrics end there. While there are instances in which various charac-
ters in Revelation perform roles that resemble those “narrative” functions
of the tragic chorus (i.e., offering hymnic responses to dramatic events in
ways that suggest that those who sing them constitute a kind of audience to
the events, and in one instance by providing relevant dramatic information
to another character), the hymns themselves demonstrate no such resem-
blances to tragic choral lyrics in these ways. The hymns simply do not
function in most of the ways that choral lyrics did in this regard, i.e., in the
role of a narrator to advance the dramatic plot.
The absence of these “narrative” functions in Revelation can be under-
stood at least in part as a result of the fact that the functions of the chorus
as a kind of narrator in ancient tragedy were rendered unnecessary in
Revelation by the fact that Revelation was not a drama per se. In the Greek
theatre, the chorus was often given “narrative” functions on account of the
fact that it was the most convenient character, and in some cases the only
character, to perform such functions. For example, given an empty stage
prior to the beginning of a scene, the chorus was the only character who
could introduce a character onto the stage. By virtue of the fact that
Revelation was not limited by the conventions of the theatre, many of
those narrative functions required of the chorus in tragedy were simply un-
necessary, or could be accomplished by other means. For example,
characters did not need to be introduced onto an empty stage for the
benefit of a live audience; they could be introduced by the Seer himself as
part of his description of the vision-sequence. Nor was a chorus required to
provide a dramatic exigency for character speeches or dialogue; informa-
tion was simply provided by the Seer or some other character as needed.
Finally, updates on the current dramatic circumstances could be provided
by many other means (often by way of a first-person account of the Seer
himself).
 7.2 Choral Lyrics in Revelation? 315

While Revelation’s hymns do not bear similarities with many of the

narrative functions of tragic choral lyrics to advance the dramatic plot
generally, the ways in which the hymns function to move forward the plot
do resemble the functions of tragic choral hymns in particular. That is,
while tragic choral hymns did not function to introduce characters, provide
synopses of current dramatic circumstances, offer a survey of relevant
background information relevant to the current dramatic circumstances, or
provide exigencies for various dramatic events, they did sometimes fore-
shadow events that took place later in the play, and to provide relevant
background information of the deities to whom the hymn was addressed.

Revelation’s Hymns Casting the Surrounding Action in a Particular Light

It will be recalled that tragic choral lyrics often operated to a certain extent
outside of the dramatic action in order to say something about it, i.e., to
offer an emotional response to a dramatic event, and/or to frame the sur-
rounding action in a mythological-historical, philosophical, or mytho-
logical-theological light. In these ways, choral lyrics functioned to frame
the surrounding action in a particular way. Revelation’s hymns can be
profitably viewed in these terms.
On one hand, each hymn constitutes a positive response to events that
are narrated as part of preceding dramatic sequence. For example, hymns
are sung in response to the cosmic enthronement of God and the investiture
of the Lamb in chapters 4 and 5, respectively, the depiction of the salvation
of the Christian martyrs in heaven in chapter 7, the destruction of the en-
emies of God and the Lamb in chapter 11, and so on. Insofar as Revel-
ation’s hymns constitute joyous responses to these dramatic sequences,
they can be viewed in terms of tragic choral lyrics that often function
similarly. On the other hand, exegesis has demonstrated that Revelation’s
hymns clearly and consistently function to cast these dramatic sequences in
Christian mythological-theological terms. For example, the enthronement
of God as cosmic sovereign is said to be the result of God’s creation of the
world (Rev 4:9–10), while the Lamb’s (i.e., Christ’s) heavenly investiture
is said to be the result of his salvific death on the cross (Rev 5:9–10).
Likewise, the depiction of the expulsion of the Dragon (i.e., Satan) from
heaven in Rev 12:1–9 is characterized in the subsequent hymn as a result
of the cosmic sovereignty of God and the Lamb (Rev 12:10), the salvific
death of Christ, and the testimony of martyred Christians (Rev 12:11–12),
while the pouring of the seven bowls (plagues) upon the earth in chapter
15 is cast as the just and proper retributive “judgment(s)” of God (Rev
16:5). And so on. Thus, insofar as Revelation’s hymns frame the surround-
ing dramatic sequences in mythological-theological terms, they bear strik-
ing similarities with tragic choral lyrics.
316 Chapter 7: Revelation’s Hymns as Choral Lyrics

However, Revelation’s hymns only ever frame the surrounding dramatic

sequences in these terms. The hymns simply do not touch on topics that
could be characterized as philosophical, and never include surveys of past
mythological-historical events. Thus, to the extent that Revelation’s hymns
only ever frame the surrounding dramatic sequences in mythological terms,
they are considered best not in terms of tragic choral lyrics in general but
rather in terms of tragic choral hymns in particular, which likewise consist-
ently frame the surrounding dramatic action in mythological-theological
terms.

7.3 The “Voice” in Revelation’s Hymns

Revelation’s hymns can be considered in terms of the categories used to

evaluate the various “voices” reflected in tragic choral lyrics, i.e., the
“voice of the poet,” the “voice of the community,” etc. At one level, the
contents of Revelation’s hymns very often accord with what might be
expected of the characters who sing them, given the dramatic situations in
which they take place. For example, hymns sung by heavenly angels in
Revelation make sense in light of the fact that in ancient traditions, angels
were regularly depicted singing hymns of praise to God as part of heavenly
worship. Likewise, it makes sense that the 24 Elders and Living Creatures,
who are portrayed as entities within the heavenly temple of God, and con-
tinually worshipping before their heavenly throne, would utter hymns of
praise in response to various acts of God and the Lamb. Insofar as the con-
tents of the hymns make sense simply as the lyrics of characters within the
text, they might be considered in terms of the “intra-dramatic” voice of the
characters in ancient tragedy.
At another level, the contents of Revelation’s hymns may also reflect
the “voices” of various persons and/or communities amongst which Revel-
ation circulated. If, on one hand, Revelation’s hymns represent actual hymns
sung by early Christian communities, including those communities amongst
which Revelation circulated, they would reflect the mythological-theological
sentiments of these communities. In this way, Revelation’s hymns could be
considered in terms of tragic choral lyrics that likewise represented the
sentiments, values, and beliefs of the community of spectators that watched
tragedy. In other words, like tragic choral lyrics, Revelation’s hymns might
be said to represent the “voice of the community.” If, on the other hand,
Revelation’s hymns represent not songs of the community but rather orig-
inal compositions of the author himself, the contents of the hymns might
be considered in light of choral lyrics in which the “voice of the poet” is
reflected. That is, just as choral lyrics are thought to have sometimes served
 7.4 Conclusions 317

as a mouthpiece for the tragic poet, Revelation’s hymns might likewise

represent mythological-theological ideas of the author.
Whether or not the contents of the hymns can be traced to any particular
extra-dramatic “voice,” the hymns can be compared with tragic choral
lyrics in terms of their function to lead the audience towards a particular
understanding of the surrounding dramatic action. It will be recalled that
insofar as the tragic chorus often offered direct responses to, and reflections
upon, the surrounding dramatic action, it constituted a kind of intra-
dramatic spectator to these events, i.e., an “implied audience.” As such, the
responses of this intra-dramatic audience to dramatic events are thought to
have functioned to elicit similar responses from the actual audience, i.e., to
sympathize with the protagonist, to adopt a particular mythological-
theological interpretation of the events, etc. Thus, the hymns in Revelation,
as direct responses to, and reflections upon, the surrounding dramatic
action, may have functioned likewise to lead the audience of Revelation to
adopt the mythological-theological perspective(s) it offers on the dramatic
action in the text.
The audience may not have always (or ever) adopted the mythological-
theological perspectives reflected in the hymns. For example, one who did
not believe that the Roman Empire was wholly corrupt, and under the con-
trol of Satan, would not have likely responded sympathetically to hymns
that celebrate Rome’s ultimate destruction. Likewise, one who did not be-
lieve that the crucified Jesus of Nazareth had been exalted to share in God’s
cosmic sovereignty would not likely have ascribed to such views pro-
mulgated in the hymns. At any rate, the Christian mythological-theological
perspectives reflected in the hymns constituted a kind of “voice” against
which the audience could negotiate its own views with respect to the
contents of the dramatic visions.

7.4 Conclusions
The preceding analysis of Revelation’s hymns in light of tragic choral
lyrics, and consideration of those who sing the hymns in terms of tragic
choruses, has yielded mixed results. On one hand, only some of those who
sing the hymns can be reasonably viewed in terms of tragic choruses. The
24 Elders bear the most striking similarities to tragic choruses, as they not
only represent a homogeneous group in terms of age and gender, but in
fact are identified specifically in terms which very often characterize the
chorus in tragedy, i.e., as elders, who clearly stand in a subordinate
relationship with the main characters in the text. Moreover, the number of
Elders can be considered in light of the number of characters that might
have been represented by a tragic chorus (especially one that existed only
318 Chapter 7: Revelation’s Hymns as Choral Lyrics

in narrative form and did not actually appear on a stage), while their
circular formation and orientation around a central object certainly evokes
common formations of the choruses in tragedy.
Other groups of characters who sing hymns in Revelation likewise bear
some similarities with tragic choruses, though not as consistently nor as
clearly as the 24 Elders. The very fact that groups of characters are depicted
singing hymns evokes choruses in tragedy. However, the formal character-
istics of these groups do not as clearly match tragic choruses. For example,
the number of Living Creatures (four) evokes the size of tragic choruses in
the Roman period, although the numbers of the other groups are never
revealed. Moreover, while the homogeneity of some of the groups in terms
of identity, gender, age, status, and function might be inferred from clues
in the text, they are not identified with the generic terms typically used to
characterize tragic choruses. In terms of spatial orientation, the circular
formations of the Living Creatures and Myriads of Angels around a central
object resembles the (sometimes) circular orientation of tragic choruses,
though none of the other groups who sing hymns are presented in such
terms. Thus, while none of these groups resembles tragic choruses as clear-
ly as do the 24 Elders, they do bear some similarities, and as such might
tentatively be considered in terms of secondary choruses in tragedy.
However, not every hymn in Revelation is sung by a group that could be
identified as a kind of chorus. Each of the hymns in Revelation 16 is sung
by individuals that could in no way be identified as a chorus. Thus,
whether or not some groups of characters bear resemblances with tragic
choruses, it not account for the fact that these two hymns are sung by
characters that absolutely do not resemble a tragic chorus.
An evaluation of the hymns themselves in terms of forms and functions
of tragic choral lyrics yields more conclusive results. In sum, if the forms
and functions of Revelation’s hymns are viewed in terms of tragic lyrics at
all, they are most profitably considered not in terms of choral lyrics, but in
terms of tragic hymns.
First, Revelation’s hymns do not reflect the varieties of forms of tragic
choral lyrics. Revelation’s hymns bear no similarities with the major cat-
egories of tragic choral lyrics that regularly occur during scenes. More-
over, none of the hymns resemble the choral lyrics of the choral parodos or
exodos. In the end, only two hymns can reasonably be considered in terms
of choral stasima, Rev 12:10–12 and 19:1–9, insofar as they occur in-
between dramatic sequences.
While only two of Revelation’s hymns are profitably evaluated in terms
of the most common types of choral lyrics, all of Revelation’s hymns are
very easily evaluated in terms of the formal properties of tragic hymns.
Revelation’s hymns conform to the formal standards of ancient hymns.
Moreover, the hymns are sung by a variety of characters (i.e., not just
 7.4 Conclusions 319

those that could be viewed as a kind of chorus), and appear intermittently

both during and in-between dramatic sequences. Finally, insofar as Revel-
ation’s hymns are depicted as being sung to the accompaniment of musical
instruments, they can be viewed in light of tragic hymns that are likewise
sung to instrumental accompaniment.
Second, Revelation’s hymns reflect neither the breadth nor depth of the
functions of tragic choral lyrics, either in terms of the function of choral
lyrics to advance the dramatic plot, or to frame the dramatic sequences in a
particular context. Revelation’s hymns never function to introduce char-
acters, provide a synopsis of the present dramatic circumstances, or as a
means for accomplishing various dramatic effects, e.g., as a pretext for
eliciting speech or dialogue of other characters, or for revealing informa-
tion to one of the other characters. At the same time, Revelation’s hymns
never function to frame the surrounding dramatic sequences in a mytho-
logical-historical or philosophical context.
Still, some of Revelation’s hymns do function in ways that can be
considered in light of the functions of tragic choral lyrics. For example,
several hymns could be said to advance the dramatic plot insofar as they
foreshadow future dramatic events. Moreover, each of Revelation’s hymns
cast the surrounding dramatic action in a mythological-theological light by
contextualizing aspects of the surrounding dramatic action in particularly
Christian mythological-theological terms. However, despite the fact that
Revelation’s hymns bear these particular affinities with choral lyrics in
tragedy, they are best explained not in terms of the functions of choral
lyrics in general, but in terms of the functions of tragic hymns, as tragic
hymns likewise function in precisely these ways.
Finally, insofar as Revelation’s hymns can be viewed in light of hymns
in ancient tragedy, they might also be considered in terms of the intra- and
extra-dramatic voices they represent. At one level, inasmuch as Revel-
ation’s hymns constitute responses to events in the text, they make sense
simply as the lyrics of characters within the text, and as such can be con-
sidered in terms of the “intra-dramatic” voice of the characters in ancient
tragedy. At the same time, the hymns most likely reflect the mythological-
theological sentiments of the author, and/or Christian communities to
whom Revelation was addressed, and in these ways can be viewed in light
of tragic choral hymns that likewise represent the mythological-theological
sentiments of the author and/or the community. Additionally, Revelation’s
hymns can be viewed in terms of their function as an “implied audience” to
lead the audience of Revelation to adopt the mythological-theological
perspective offered in response to the events depicted in the text.
 1

Bibliography

Studies of Hymns in the Apocalypse

Carnegie, David R. “The Hymns in Revelation: Their Origin and Function.” Ph.D. diss.,
British Council for National Academic Awards, 1978.
–. “Worthy is the Lamb: The Hymns in Revelation.” Pages 243–256 in Christ the Lord:
Studies in Christology Presented to Donald Guthrie. Edited by Harold H. Rowdon.
Downers Grove, Ill.: InterVarsity, 1982.
Delling, Gerhard. “Zum gottesdienstlichen Stild der Johannes-Apokalypse.” NovT 3
(1959): 107–137.
Ford, Josephine Massyngbaerde. “The Christological Function of the Hymns in the
Apocalypse of John.” AUSS 36.2 (1998): 207–229.
Harris, Michael A. “The Literary Function of Hymns in the Apocalypse of John.” Ph.D.
diss., Southern Baptist Theological Seminary, 1989.
Hengel, Martin. “Das Christuslied im frühesten Gottesdienst.” Pages 357–404 in
Weisheit Gottes – Weisheit der Welt: Festschrift für Joseph Kardinal Ratzinger zum
60. Geburtstag. Edited by Walter Baier. St. Ottilien: EOS, 1987. Repr.: Pages 205–
258 in idem, Studien zur Christologie. Kleine Schriften IV. Edited by Claus-Jürgen
Thornton. WUNT 201. Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2006.
–. “Hymnus und Christologie.” Pages 1–23 in Wort in der Zeit: Festgabe für Karl
Heinrich Rengstorf zum 75. Geburtstag. Edited by Wilfred Haubeck and Michael
Bachmann. Leiden: Brill, 1980. Repr.: Pages 185–204 in idem, Studien zur Christo-
logie. Kleine Schriften IV. Edited by Claus-Jürgen Thornton. WUNT 201. Tübingen:
Mohr Siebeck, 2006.
Jörns, Klaus-Peter. Das hymnische Evangelium: Untersuchungen zu Aufbau, Funktion
und Herkunft der hymnischen Stücke in der Johannesoffenbarung. SNT 5. Gütersloh:
G. Mohn, 1971.
–. “Proklamation und Akklamation: Die antiphonische Grundordnung des frühchrist-
lichen Gottesdienstes nach der Johannesoffenbarung.” Pages 187–207 in vol. 1 of
Liturgie und Dichtung: Ein interdisziplinäres Kompendium. Edited by Hansjakob
Becker. St. Ottilien: EOS, 1983.
O’Rourke, John J. “The Hymns of the Apocalypse.” CBQ 30 (1968): 399–409.
Ruiz, Jean-Pierre. “Revelation 4:8–11; 5:9–14: Hymns of the Heavenly Liturgy.” SBLSP
34 (1995): 216–220.
Schimanowski, Gottfried. Die himmlische Liturgie in der Apokalypse des Johannes.
WUNT 2.154. Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2002.
322 Bibliography

Studies of New Testament Hymns

Adedeji, Femi. “An Analysis of Selected New Testament Hymns.” AJT 17.2 (Oct., 2003):
301–314.
Botha, Jan. “A Stylistic Analysis of the Christ Hymn (Col 1:15–20).” Pages 238–251 in
A South African Perspective on the New Testament. Edited by Jacobus H Petzer and
Patrick J. Hartin. Leiden: Brill, 1986.
Carlos-Reyes, Luis. “The Structure and Rhetoric of Colossians 1:15–20.” FN 12 (1999):
139–154.
Champion, Leonard G. Benedictions and Doxologies in the Epistles of Paul. Oxford:
Kemp Hall Press, 1934.
Charlesworth, James H. “A Prolegomenon to a New Study of the Jewish Background of
the Hymns and Prayers in the New Testament.” JJS 33 (1982): 265–285.
Deichgräber, Reinhard. Gotteshymnus und Christushymnus in der frühen Christenheit:
Untersuchungen zu Form, Sprache und Stil der frühchristlichen Hymnen. StudNeot 5.
Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 1967.
Delling, Gerhard. Der Gottesdienst im Neuen Testament. Berlin: Evangelische Verlags-
anstalt, 1952.
Eckman, Barbara. “A Quantitative Metrical Analysis of the Philippians Hymn.” NTS 26
(1980): 258–266.
Elliott, James K. “The Language and Style of the Concluding Doxology to the Epistle to
the Romans.” ZNW 72 (1981): 124–130.
Farris, Stephen. The Hymns of Luke’s Infancy Narratives: Their Origin, Meaning, and
Significance. JSNTSup 9. Sheffield: JSOT Press, 1985.
Fee, Gordon D. “Philippians 2:5–11: Hymn or Exalted Pauline Prose?” BBR 2 (1992):
29–46.
Fowl, Stephen E. The Story of Christ in the Ethics of Paul: An Analysis of the Function of
the Hymnic Material in the Pauline Corpus. JSNTSup 36. Sheffield: JSOT Press,
1990.
Gerber, Daniel, and Pierre Keith, eds. Les hymnes du Nouveau Testament et leurs fonc-
tions: XXIIe congrès de l’Association catholique française pour l’étude de la Bible.
LD 225. Strasbourg: Les Éditions du Cerf, 2009.
Gloer, Hulitt W. “Homologies and Hymns in the New Testament: Form, Content and
Criteria for Identification.” PRSt 11.2 (Summer 1984): 115–132.
Karris, Robert J. A Symphony of New Testament Hymns. Collegeville, Minn.: Liturgical
Press, 1996.
Kennel, Gunter. Frühchristliche Hymnen? Gattungskritische Studien zur Frage nach den
Liedern der frühen Christenheit. WMANT 71. Neukirchen-Vluyn: Neukirchener
Verlag, 1995.
Krentz, Edgar. “Epideiktik and Hymnody: The New Testament and Its World.” BR 40
(1995): 50–97.
Kroll, Josef. Die christliche Hymnodik bis zu Klemens von Alexandreia. Darmstadt:
Wissenschaftliche Buchgesellschaft, 1968.
Martin, Ralph P. A Hymn of Christ. Downers Grove, Ill.: InverVarsity, 1997.
–. “An Early Christian Hymn (Col 1:15–20).” EvQ 36 (1964): 195–205.
–. “Hymns in the New Testament: An Evolving Pattern of Worship Responses.” ExAud
8 (1992): 33–44.
–. “New Testament Hymns: Background and Development.” ExpTim 94.5 (Fall 1983):
132–136.
 Studies in Revelation 323

–. “Some Reflections on New Testament Hymns.” Pages 37–49 in Christ the Lord:
Studies in Christology Presented to Donald Guthrie. Edited by Harold H. Rowdon.
Downers Grove, Ill.: InterVarsity, 1982.
–. “Traces of Carmina in the New Testament.” Pages 17–23 in A Hymn of Christ:
Philippians 2:5–11 in Recent Interpretation & in the Setting of Early Christian
Worship. Downers Grove, Ill.: InterVarsity, 1997.
Michels, Thomas. Mysterien Christi: Frühchristliche Hymnen aus dem Griechischen.
Münster: Aschendorff, 1972.
Peppard, Michael. “‘Poetry,’ ‘Hymns,’ and ‘Traditional Material’ in New Testament
Epistles or How to Do Things with Indentations.” JSNT 30.3 (Mar., 2008): 319–342.
Riesenfeld, Harald. “Unpoetische Hymnen im Neuen Testament? Zu Phil 2,1–11.” Pages
155–168 in Glaube und Gerechtigkeit. Edited by Jarmo Kiilunen. Helsinki: Suomen
Eksegeettisen Seuran, 1983.
Sanders, Jack T. The New Testament Christological Hymns: Their Historical Back-
ground. SNTSMS 15. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1971.
Schattenmann, Johannes. Studien zum neutestamentlichen Prosahymnus. München: C. H.
Beck, 1965.
Schille, Gottfried. Frühchristliche Hymnen. Berlin: Evangelische Verlagsanstalt, 1965.
Spieckermann, Hermann. “Alttestamentliche ‘Hymnen’.” Pages 97–108 in Hymnen in der
Alten Welt im Kulturvergleich. Edited by Walter Burkert. OBO 131. Göttingen:
Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 1994.
Stettler, Christian. Der Kolosserhymnus: Untersuchungen zu Form, traditionsgeschicht-
lichem Hintergrund und Aussage von Kol 1,15–20. WUNT 2.131; Tübingen: Mohr
Siebeck, 2000.
Thompson, Leonard. “Hymns in Early Christian Worship.” AThR 55 (1973): 458–472.
–. “The Form and Function of Hymns in the New Testament: A Study in Cultic
History.” Diss., University of Chicago, 1968.
Wengst, Klaus. Christologische Formeln und Lieder des Urchristentums. SNT 7. Güters-
loh: Gerd Mohn, 1972.
Wick, Peter. Die urchristlichen Gottesdienste: Entstehung und Entwicklung im Rahmen
der frühjüdischen Tempel-, Synagogen- und Hausfrömmigkeit. BWANT 150. Stutt-
gart: Kohlhammer, 2002.

Studies in Revelation

Allison Jr., Dale C. “4Q 403 Fragm. I, Col. I, 38–46 and the Revelation to John.” RevQ
12 [47] (1986): 409–414.
–. “The Silence of the Angels: Reflections on the Songs of the Sabbath Sacrifice.” RevQ
13 (1988): 189–197.
Aune, David E. Revelation. 3 vols. WBC 52. Dallas: Word Books, 1997.
–. “Revelation 5 as an Ancient Egyptian Enthronement Scene? The Origin and Develop-
ment of a Scholarly Myth.” Pages 85–91 in Kropp og Sjel: Festkrift til Olav Hogne-
stad. Edited by Theodor Jørgensen, Dagfinn Rian, and Ole Gunnar Winsnes. Trond-
heim: Tapir Akademisk Forlag, 2000.
–. “The Influence of Roman Imperial Court Ceremonial on the Apocalypse of John.” BR
28 (1983): 5–26.
–. “The Prophetic Circle of John of Patmos and the Exegesis of Revelation 22:16.” JSNT
37 (1989): 103–116.
Barr, David L. “The Apocalypse as Oral Enactment.” Int 40 (1986): 343–356.
324 Bibliography

Barrett, Charles K. “The Lamb of God.” NTS 1 (1954–55): 210–218.

Barth, Markus. Ephesians: Introduction, Translation, and Commentary on Chapters 1–3.
AB 34. Garden City, N.Y.: Doubleday & Company, 1974.
Bauckham, Richard. Climax of Prophecy: Studies on the Book of Revelation. Edinburgh:
T & T Clark, 1993.
–. The Theology of the Book of Revelation. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1993.
Beale, Gregory K. The Book of Revelation. Grand Rapids, Mich.: Eerdmans, 1999.
Beasley-Murray, George R. The Book of Revelation. New York: HarperCollins, 1974.
Benson, Edward W. The Apocalypse: Structure and Principles. London: Macmillan, 1900.
Blevins, James L. Revelation as Drama. Nashville: Abingdon Press, 1984.
Blount, Brian. Can I Get a Witness? Reading Revelation through African American Cul-
ture. Louisville: Westminster John Knox Press, 2005.
Böcher, Otto. “Die Johannes-Apokalypse und die Texte von Qumran.” ANRW II 25.5
(1988): 3894–3898.
Bockmuehl, Markus. The Epistle to the Philippians. London: Hendrickson, 1998.
Boll, Franz. Aus der Offenbarung Johannis: Hellenistische Studien zum Weltbild der
Apokalypse. Stoicheia 1. Leipzig: Dürr’sche Buchhandlung, 1914.
Borgen, Peder. “Moses, Jesus, and the Roman Emperor: Observations in Philo’s Writings
and the Revelation to John.” NovT 38 (1996): 145–159.
Boring, Eugene M. “The Apocalypse as Christian Prophecy: A Discussion of the Issues
Raised by the Book of Revelation for the Study of Early Christian Prophecy.” Pages
43–62 in vol. 2 of Society of Biblical Literature 1974 Seminar Papers. Edited by
George MacRae. Cambridge, Mass.: SBL, 1974.
–. “Narrative Christology in the Apocalypse.” CBQ 54 (1992): 702–723.
–. Revelation. Louisville: Westminster John Knox Press, 1989.
Bousset, Wilhelm. Die Offenbarung Johannis. KEK 16. 6th ed. Göttingen: Vandenhoeck
& Ruprecht, 1906.
Bowman, John Wick. The Drama of the Book of Revelation. Philadelphia: Westminster,
1955.
–. “The Revelation to John: Its Dramatic Structure and Message.” Int 9 (1955): 436–453.
Bratcher, Robert G., and Howard Hatton. A Handbook on the Revelation to John. New
York: United Bible Societies, 1993.
Bredin, M. R. J. “The Influence of the Aqedah on Revelation 5,6–9.” IBS 18 (1996): 26–
43.
Brewer, Raymond R. “The Influence of Greek Drama on the Apocalypse of John.” AThR
18 (1936): 74–92.
Briggs, Robert A. Jewish Temple Imagery in the Book of Revelation. New York: Peter
Lang, 1999.
Brown, David. The Apocalypse: Its Structure and Primary Predictions. New York:
Christian Literature, 1891.
Burke, John P. “The Identity of the Twenty-Four Elders.” Grace Journal 3 (1961): 19–29.
Cabaniss, Allen. “A Note on the Liturgy of the Apocalypse.” Int 7 (1953): 78–86.
Caird, George B. The Revelation of St. John the Divine. New York: Harper & Row, 1966.
Carey, Greg. “The Book of Revelation as Counter-Imperial Script.” Pages 157–176 in In
the Shadow of Empire. Edited by Richard Horsley. London: Westminster Press, 2008.
Charles, J. Daryl. “Imperial Pretensions and the Throne-Vision of the Lamb: Observa-
tions on the Function of Revelation 5.” CTR 7 (1993): 85–97.
Charles, Robert H. The Revelation of St. John. 2 vols. Edinburgh: T & T Clark, 1956.
Collins, John J. “Pseudonymity, Historical Reviews, and the Genre of the Revelation of
John.” CBQ 39.3 (1977): 329–343.
 Studies in Revelation 325

Comblin, José. Le Christ dans l’Apocalypse. Tournai: Desclée, 1965.

Cothenet, Édouard. “Le symbolisme du culte dans l’Apocalypse.” Pages 223–238 in Le
symbolisme dans le culte des grandes religions: Actes du colloque de Louvain-la-
Neuve 4–5 Octobre, 1983. Edited by Julien Ries. Louvain-la-Neuve: Centre d’His-
toire des Religions, 1985.
–. “Liturgie terrestre et liturgie céleste d’après l’Apocalypse.” Pages 263–286 in
Exégèse et liturgie. LD 133. Paris: Editions du Cerf, 1998.
Court, John M. Myth and History in the Book of Revelation. London: SPCK, 1979.
Cullmann, Oscar. Early Christian Worship. London: SCM Press, 1953.
Cuss, Dominique. Imperial Cult and Honorary Terms in the New Testament. Paradosis
23. Fribourg: University Press, 1974.
Davis, R. Dean. The Heavenly Court Judgment of Revelation 4–5. South Lancaster,
Mass.: Lanham University Press of America, 1992.
DeSilva, David A. Seeing Things John’s Way: The Rhetoric of the Book of Revelation.
Louisville: Westminster John Knox Press, 2009.
Draper, Jonathan A. “The Heavenly Feast of Tabernacles: Revelation 7:1–7.” JSNT 19
(1983): 133–147.
Elliott, Susan M. “Who is Addressed in Revelation 18:6–7?” BR 40 (1995): 98–113.
Ellul, Jacques. Apocalypse: The Book of Revelation. Translated by George W. Schreiner.
New York: Seabury, 1977.
Farrer, Austin M. The Revelation of St. John the Divine. Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1964.
Fekkes, Jan. “His Bride Has Prepared Herself: Revelation 19–21 and Isaian Nuptial
Imagery.” JBL 109 (1990): 269–287.
–. “Unveiling the Bride: Revelation’s Nuptial Imagery and Roman Social Discourse.”
Pages 159–179 in A Feminist Companion to the Apocalypse of John. Edited by Amy-
Jill Levine. Sheffield: Sheffield Academic Press, 2009.
Feuillet, André. “Les vingt-quatre vieillards de l’Apocalypse.” RB 65 (1958): 5–32.
–. “Quelques énigmes des chapitres 4 à 7 de l’Apocalypse: Suggestions pour l’interprétation
du langage imagé de la révélation Johannique.” Espérance et vie 86 (1976): 455–479.
Friesen, Steve. “Myth and Symbolic Resistance in Revelation 13.” JBL 123.2 (2004):
281–313.
Gangemi, Attilio. “La struttura liturgica dei capitoli 4–5 dell’Apocalisse di S. Giovanni.”
Ecclesia Orans 4 (1987): 301–358.
Giblin, Charles H. “Recapitulation and the Literary Coherence of John’s Apocalypse.”
CBQ 56 (1994): 81–95.
Giesen, Heinz. “Das Römische Reich im Spiegel der Johannes-Apokalypse.” ANRW II
26.3 (1996): 2501–2614.
Grassi, Joseph A. “The Liturgy of Revelation.” TBT 24 (1986): 30–37.
Guthrie, David. “Aspects of Worship in the Book of Revelation.” Pages 70–83 in
Worship, Theology and Ministry in the Early Church. Edited by Michael J. Wilkins.
JSNTSup 87. Sheffield: JSOT Press, 1992.
Hahn, Ferdinand. “Liturgische Elemente in den Rahmenstücken der Johannesoffenba-
rung.” Pages 43–57 in Kirchengemeinschaft: Anspruch und Wirklichkeit. Edited by
Georg Kretschmar. Stuttgart: Calwer Verlag, 1986.
Hall, Robert G. “Living Creatures in the Midst of the Throne.” NTS 36 (1990): 609–613.
Harlé, Paul A. “L’agneau de l’Apocalypse et le Nouveau Testament.” ETR 31 (1956): 26–35.
Harrington, Wilfrid J. Apocalypse of St. John. London: G. Chapman, 1969.
Harvey, Anthony E. “Elders.” JTS 25 (1974): 318–332.
Hedrick, William K. “The Sources and Use of Imagery in Apocalypse 12.” Ph.D. diss.,
Graduate Theological Union, 1970.
326 Bibliography

Hellholm, David. “The Problem of Apocalyptic Genre and the Apocalypse of John.”
Semeia 36 (1986): 13–64.
Hillyer, Norman. “‘The Lamb’ in the Apocalypse.” EvQ 39 (1967): 228–236.
Hurtado, Larry. “Revelation 4–5 in the Light of Jewish Apocalyptic Analogies.” JSNT 25
(1985): 105–124.
Jauhiainen, Marko. “Recapitulation and Chronological Progression in John’s Apoca-
lypse: Towards a New Perspective.” NTS 43 (1993): 543–559.
Jeremias, Joachim. “Das Lamm, das aus der Jungfrau hervorging (TestJos 19.8).” ZNW
57 (1966): 216–219.
Karrer, Martin. Die Johannesoffenbarung als Brief: Studien zu ihrem literarischen, histori-
schen und theologischen Ort. FRLANT 140. Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 1986.
Kooy, Vernon H. “The Apocalypse and Worship: Some Preliminary Observations.” RefR
30 (1977): 198–209.
Kraft, Heinrich. Die Offenbarung des Johannes. HNT 16a. Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 1974.
Kraybill, J. Nelson. Apocalypse and Allegiance: Worship, Politics, and Devotion in the
Book of Revelation. Grand Rapids, Mich.: Brazos Press, 2010.
–. Imperial Cult and Commerce in John’s Apocalypse. JSNTSup 132. Sheffield: Shef-
field Academic Press, 1996.
Lambrecht, Jan. “A Structuration of Rev 4,1–22,5.” Pages 84–97 in L’Apocalypse johan-
nique et l’apocalyptique dans le Nouveau Testament. Edited by Jan Lambrecht. Gem-
bloux: Leuven University Press, 1980.
Läuchli, Samuel. “Eine Gottesdienststruktur in der Johannesoffenbarung.” TZ 16 (1960):
359–378.
Le Frois, Bernard J. The Woman Clothed with the Sun (Ap. 12): Individual or Collective?
Rome: Orbis Catholicus, 1954.
Lévêque, Jean. “Les quatre vivants de l’Apocalypse.” Chr 26 (1979): 333–339.
Lohmeyer, Ernst. Die Offenbarung des Johannes. HNT 16. 2 nd ed. Tübingen: Mohr Sie-
beck, 1953.
Manns, Frédéric. “Traces d’une haggadic pascale chrétienne dans l’Apocalypse de Jean?”
Anton 56 (1981): 265–295.
Martin, Ralph P. Worship in the Early Church. Westwood, N.J.: Fleming H. Revell, 1964.
Massyngbaerde Ford, Josephine. Revelation. Garden City, N.Y.: Doubleday, 1975.
–. “The Priestly People of God in the Apocalypse.” List 28 (1993): 245–260.
Mazzaferri, Frederick D. The Genre of the Book of Revelation from a Source-Critical
Perspective. BZNW 54. Berlin: de Gruyter, 1989.
McDowell, Edward A. The Meaning and Message of the Book of Revelation. Nashville:
Broadman, 1951.
Michl, Johann. Die Engelvorstellungen in der Apokalypse des hl. Johannes. I. Teil: Die
Engel um Gott. München: A. Huber, 1937.
Mowry, Lucetta. “Revelation 4–5 and Early Christian Liturgical Usage.” JBL 70 (1952):
75–84.
Müller, Hans-Peter. “Die himmlische Ratsversammlung: Motivgeschichtliches zu Apc
5,1–5.” ZNW 54 (1963): 254–278.
Murphy, Frederick. Fallen is Babylon: The Revelation to John. Harrisburg, Pa.; Trinity
Press International, 1998.
Nusca, A. Robert. “Heavenly Worship, Ecclesial Worship: A ‘Liturgical Approach’ to the
Hymns of the Apocalypse of St. John.” Ph.D. diss., Pontifical Gregorian University,
1998.
O’Brien, Peter T. Epistle to the Philippians: A Commentary on the Greek Text. Grand
Rapids, Mich.: Eerdmans, 1991.
 Studies in Revelation 327

Palmer, Frederic. The Drama of the Apocalypse: In Relation to the Literary and Political
Circumstances of Its Time. New York: Kessinger Publishers, 1903.
Paulien, Jon. “The Role of the Hebrew Cultus, Sanctuary, and the Temple in the Plot and
Structure of the Book of Revelation.” AUSS 33 (1995): 245–264.
Pescheck, Josef. “Der Gottesdienst in der Apokalypse.” TPQ 73 (1920): 496–514.
Philonenko, Marc. “‘Une voix sortit du Trône qui disait …’ (Apocalypse de Jean 19:5a).”
RHPR 79 (1999): 83–89.
Piper, Otto. “The Liturgical Character of the Apocalypse.” CH 20 (1951): 10–23.
Porter, Stanley E. “The Language of the Apocalypse in Recent Discussion.” NTS 35
(1989): 582–603.
Prigent, Pierre. Apocalypse et liturgie. Neuchâtel: Éditions Delachaux et Niestlé, 1964.
–. Commentary on the Apocalypse of St. John. Translated by Wendy Pradels. Tübingen:
Mohr Siebeck, 2011.
Resseguie, James L. The Revelation of John: A Narrative Commentary. Grand Rapids,
Mich.: Baker Publishing, 2009.
Roller, Otto. “Das Buch mit den sieben Siegeln.” ZNW 26 (1937): 98–113.
Roloff, Jürgen. The Revelation of John. Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 1993.
Ruiz, Jean-Pierre. Ezekiel in the Apocalypse: The Transformation of Prophetic Language
in Revelation 16:17–19:10. Frankfurt: Peter Lang, 1989.
–. “The Politics of Praise: A Reading of Rev 19:1–10.” SBLSP 36 (1997): 374–393.
Satake, Akira. Die Gemeindeordnung in der Johannesapokalypse. WMANT 21. Neukir-
chen-Vluyn: Neukirchener Verlag, 1966.
Scherrer, Steven J. “Revelation 13 as an Historical Source for the Imperial Cult under
Domitian.” Th.D. diss., Harvard University, 1979.
Schimanowski, Gottfried. “Connecting Heaven and Earth.” Pages 67–84 in Heavenly
Realms and Earthly Realities in Late Antique Religions. Edited by Ra’anan Boustan
and Annette Reed. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2004.
Schüssler-Fiorenza, Elisabeth. “Apokalypsis and Propheteia: The Book of Revelation in
the Context of Early Christian Prophecy.” Pages 133–156 in L’Apocalypse johannique
et l’apocalyptique dans le Nouveau Testament. Edited by Jan Lambrecht. Gembloux:
Leuven University Press, 1980.
–. “Composition and Structure in the Book of Revelation.” CBQ 39 (1977): 344–366.
–. The Book of Revelation: Justice and Judgment. Philadelphia: Fortress Press, 1985.
–. Revelation: Vision of a Just World. Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 1991.
–. “The Words of Prophecy: Reading the Book of Revelation Theologically.” Pages 1–
19 in Studies in the Book of Revelation. Edited by Steve Moyise. New York: T & T
Clark, 2001.
Schütz, Roland. Die Offenbarung des Johannes und Kaiser Domitian. Göttingen: Van-
denhoeck & Ruprecht, 1933.
Seel, Thomas Allen. A Theology of Music for Worship Derived from the Book of Rev-
elation. Studies in Liturgical Musicology 3. Metuchen, N.J.: Scarecrow Press, 1995.
Shepherd, Jr., Massey H. The Paschal Liturgy and the Apocalypse. Richmond, Va.: John
Knox Press, 1960.
–. “The Structure of the Book of Revelation.” Pages 77–91 in The Paschal Liturgy and
the Apocalypse. Richmond, Va.: John Knox Press, 1960.
Smith, Robert H. “‘Worthy is the Lamb’ and Other Songs of the Revelation.” CurTM 25
(1998): 500–506.
Stefanovič, Ranko. “The Background and Meaning of the Sealed Book of Revelation 5.”
Ph.D. diss., St. Andrews University, 1995.
328 Bibliography

Stevenson, Gregory M. “Conceptual Background to Golden Crown Imagery in the

Apocalypseof John (4,4.10; 14,14).” JBL 114 (1995): 257–272.
–. Power and Place: Temple and Identity in the Book of Revelation. BZNW 107.
Berlin/New York: Walter de Gruyter, 2001.
Strand, Kenneth A. “Some Modalities of Symbolic Usage in Revelation 18.” AUSS 24
(1986): 37–46.
Sweet, John P. M. Revelation. Philadelphia: Westminster Press, 1979.
Swete, Henry Barclay. Commentary on Revelation. 3rd ed. Grand Rapids, Mich.: Kregel,
1977.
Thompson, Leonard. “Cult and Eschatology in the Apocalypse of John.” JR 49 (1969):
330–350.
–. The Book of Revelation: Apocalypse and Empire. Oxford: Oxford University Press,
1990.
Thompson, Marianne M. “Worship in the Book of Revelation.” ExAud 8 (1992): 45–54.
Torrance, Thomas F. “Liturgy and Apocalypse.” VC 11 (1957): 28–40.
Vanhoye, Albert. “L’utilisation du livre d’Ézéchiel dans l’Apocalypse.” Bib 43 (1962):
436–467.
Vanni, Ugo. l’Apocalisse: Una assemblea liturgica interpreta la storia. Brescia: Queri-
niana, 1979.
–. “Liturgical Dialogue as a Literary Form in the Book of Revelation.” NTS 37 (1991):
348–372.
van Unnik, Willem Cornelis. “‘Worthy is the Lamb’: The Background of Apoc. 5.” Pages
20–33 in Mélanges bibliques en hommage au R. P. Béda Rigaux. Edited by Albert
Descamps et al. Gembloux: Duculot, 1970.
Vassiliadis, Petros. “Apocalypse and Liturgy.” SVTQ 41 (1997): 95–112.
Vogelgesang, Jeffrey M. “The Interpretation of Ezekiel in the Book of Revelation.”
Ph.D. diss., Harvard University, 1985.
Voorwinde, Stephen. “Worship – The Key to the Book of Revelation?” VR 63 (1998): 3–
35.
Weiss, Johannes. Die Offenbarung des Johannes. FRLANT 3. Göttingen: Vandenhoeck
& Ruprecht, 1904.
Wilson, J. Christian. “The Problem of the Domitianic Date of Revelation.” NTS 39
(1993): 587–605.
Yarbro Collins, Adela. “Dating the Apocalypse of John.” BR 26 (1981): 33–45.
–. “Feminine Symbolism in the Book of Revelation.” BibInt 1.1 (1993): 20–33.
–. “Revelation 18: Taunt-Song or Dirge?” Pages 185–202 in L’Apocalypse johannique et
l’apocalyptique dans le Nouveau Testament. Edited by Jan Lambrecht. Gembloux:
Leuven University Press, 1980.
–. The Combat Myth in the Book of Revelation. Missoula, Mont.: Scholars Press, 1976.
–. “The Political Perspective of the Revelation to John.” JBL 96 (1977): 241–256.

Greek, Hellenistic and Roman Hymns

Athanassakis, Apostolos N. The Homeric Hymns. 2 nd ed. Baltimore: Johns Ηopkins

University Press, 2004.
–. The Orphic Hymns: Text, Translation, and Notes. Missoula, Mont.: Scholars Press,
1977.
Battezzato, Luigi. “Song, Performance, and Text in the New Posidippus.” ZPE 145
(2003): 31–43.
 Greek, Hellenistic and Roman Hymns 329

Behr, Charles Allison. Aelius Aristides and the Sacred Tales. Amsterdam: A. M. Hakkert,
1968.
Berger, Klaus. “Hymnus und Gebet.” Pages 239–247 in his Formgeschichte des Neuen
Testaments. Heidelberg: Quelle & Meyer, 1984.
Bowra, Cecil M. “Aristotle’s Hymn to Virtue.” CQ 32 (1938): 182–189.
Bremer, Jan M. “Greek Hymns.” Pages 193–215 in Faith, Hope, and Worship: Aspects of
Religious Mentality in the Ancient World. Edited by Hendrik S. Versnel. SGRR 2.
Leiden: Brill, 1981.
Burkert, Walter, and Fritz Stolz, eds. Hymnen der alten Welt im Kulturvergleich. OBO
131. Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 1994.
Charlesworth, James H. “Jewish Hymns, Odes, and Prayers (ca. 167 B.C.E.–135 C.E.).”
Pages 411–436 in Early Judaism and Its Modern Interpreters. Edited by Robert A.
Kraft and George W. E. Nickelsburg. Philadelphia: Fortress Press, 1986.
Charvet, Pascal. La prière: Les hymnes d’Orphée. Paris: Nil éd., 1995.
Chazon, Esther G. “Hymns and Prayers in the Dead Sea Scrolls.” Pages 244–270 in Dead
Sea Scrolls after Fifty Years: A Comprehensive Assessment. Edited by James C.
VanderKam and Peter W. Flint. Leiden: Brill, 1998.
Crudden, Michael. The Homeric Hymns. New York: Oxford University Press, 2004.
Depew, Mary. “Enacted and Represented Dedications: Genre and Greek Hymn.” Pages
59–79 in Matrices of Genre: Authors, Canons, and Society. Edited by Mary Depew
and Dirk Obbink. Cambridge, Mass.: Harvard University Press, 2000.
Devlin, Nicola G. “The Hymn in Greek Literature: Studies in Form and Content.” Ph.D.
diss., Oxford University, 1994.
Fantuzzi, Marco, and Richard Hunter. Tradition and Innovation in Hellenistic Poetry.
Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2004.
Faulkner, Andrew. The Homeric Hymn to Aphrodite: Introduction, Text, and Commen-
tary. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2008.
Flusser, David. “Jewish Roots of the Liturgical Trisagion.” Imm 3 (1973–74): 37–43.
–. “Psalms, Hymns and Prayers.” Pages 551–577 in Jewish Writings of the Second
Temple Period: Apocrypha, Pseudepigrapha, Qumran Sectarian Writings, Philo,
Josephus. Edited by Michael E. Stone. Philadelphia: Fortress Press, 1984.
Furley, William D. “Hymns in Euripidean Tragedy.” Pages 183–197 in Euripides and
Tragic Theater in the Late Fifth Century. Edited by M. Cropp, K. Lee, and D.
Sansone. Champaign, Ill.: University of Illinois Press, 2000.
–. “Types of Greek Hymns.” Eos 81 (1993): 21–41.
Furley, William D., and Jan M. Bremer. Greek Hymns: Selected Cult Songs from the Ar-
chaic to the Hellenistic Period. 2 vols. STAC 9–10. Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2001.
Gerstenberger, Erhard. Psalms: Part 1: With an Introduction to Cultic Poetry. Grand
Rapids, Mich.: Eerdmans, 1988.
Gordley, Matthew E. The Colossian Hymn in Context. WUNT 2.228. Tübingen: Mohr
Siebeck, 2007.
Gunkel, Hermann, and Joachim Begrich. Introduction to the Psalms: The Genres of the
Religious Lyric of Israel. Translated by James D. Nogalski; Macon, Ga.: Mercer Uni-
versity Press, 1998.
Haldane, Joan A. “The Greek Hymn, with Special Reference to the Athenian Drama of
the Fifth Century.” Ph.D. diss., King’s College, 1963.
Heinemann, Joseph. Prayer in the Talmud. SJ 9. Berlin: de Gruyter, 1977.
Hopkinson, Neil. A Hellenistic Anthology. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1988.
–. Callimachus’ Hymn to Demeter. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1984.
330 Bibliography

Hübner, Hans. Die Weisheit Salomons. ATD Apokryphen 4. Göttingen: Vandenhoeck &
Ruprecht, 1999.
Hunter, Richard L. Theocritus: Encomium of Ptolemy Philadelphus. Berkeley: University
of California Press, 2003.
–. “Writing the God: Form and Meaning in Callimachus, Hymn to Athena.” Materiali e
discussioni per l’analisi di dei testi classici 29 (1992): 9–34.
Hunter, Richard L., and Therese Fuhrer. “Imaginary Gods? Poetic Theology in the
Hymns of Callimachus.” Pages 143–187 in Callimaque. Edited by Franco Montanari
and Luigi Lehnus. Geneva: Fondation Hardt, 2002.
Janko, Richard. “The Structure of the Homeric Hymns: A Study in Genre.” Hermes 109
(1981): 9–24.
Jöhrens, Gerhard. Der Athenahymnus des Ailios Aristeides. Bonn: Habelt, 1981.
Kittel, Bonnie Pedrotti. The Hymns of Qumran: Translation and Commentary. Missoula,
Mont.: Scholars Press, 1980.
Kowalzig, Barbara. Singing for the Gods: Performance of Myth and Ritual in Archaic
and Classical Greece. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2007.
Lattke, Michael. Hymnus: Materialien zu einer Geschichte der antiken Hymnologie.
NTOA 19. Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 1991.
Liesen, Jan. Full of Praise: An Exegetical Study of Sir 39,12–35. Boston: Brill, 2000.
Mansoor, Menahem. The Thanksgiving Hymns. Leiden: Brill, 1961.
Martin, Gladys. “The Roman Hymn.” CJ 34:2 (Nov., 1938): 86–97.
Mineur, Wilhelmus H. Callimachus, Hymn to Delos: Introduction and Commentary.
Leiden: Brill, 1984.
Morand, Anne-France. Études sur les Hymnes orphiques. Boston: Brill, 2001.
Mowinckel, Sigmund. The Psalms in Israel’s Worship. Translated by D. R. Ap-Thomas.
2 vols. Reprint of the 1962 ed. Grand Rapids, Mich.: Eerdmans, 2004.
Müller, Dieter. Ägypten und die griechischen Isis-Aretalogien. Berlin: Akademie Verlag,
1961.
Muth, Robert. “‘Hymenaios’ and ‘Epithalamion.’” WSt 67 (1954): 5–45.
Newsom, Carol. Songs of the Sabbath Sacrifice: A Critical Edition. Atlanta: Scholars
Press, 1985.
Nitzan, Bilha. Qumran Prayer and Religious Poetry. Leiden: Brill, 1994.
Norden, Eduard. Agnostos Theos: Untersuchungen zum Formengeschichte religiöser
Rede. Leipzig: Teubner, 1913.
Palmer, Robert E. A. “Paean and Paeanists of Serapis.” Pages 355–368 in Nomodeiktes:
Essays in Honor of Martin Ostwald. Edited by Ralph M. Rosen and Joseph Farrell.
Ann Arbor: University of Michigan Press, 1993.
Perlman, Paula J. “Invocatio and Imprecatio: The Hymn to the Greatest Kouros from
Palaikastro and the Oath in Ancient Crete.” JHS 115 (1995): 161–167.
Pfeiffer, Rudolf. Callimachus. Vol. II: Hymni et epigrammata. Oxford: Oxford Univer-
sity Press, 1953.
Pulleyn, Simon. Prayer in Greek Religion. Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1997.
Race, William H. “Aspects of Rhetoric and Form in Greek Hymns.” GRBS 23 (1982): 5–
14.
Rayor, Diane J. The Homeric Hymns. Berkeley: University of California Press, 2004.
Russell, Donald A. “Aristides and the Prose Hymn.” Pages 199–216 in Antonine Litera-
ture. Edited by Donald A. Russell. Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1990.
Rutherford, Ian. “Apollo in Ivy: The Tragic Paean.” Arion 3.1 (1994–95): 112–135.
Schuller, Eileen M. Non-Canonical Psalms from Qumran: A Pseudepigraphic Collection.
Atlanta: Scholars Press, 1986.
 Choral Poets and Choral Phenomena in Antiquity 331

–. “Some Reflections on the Function and Use of Poetical Texts among the Dead Sea
Scrolls.” Pages 173–189 in Liturgical Perspectives: Prayer and Poetry in Light of the
Dead Sea Scrolls. Edited by Esther G. Chazon. Leiden: Brill, 2003.
Silk, Michael. “Aristophanes as a Lyric Poet.” Pages 99–151 in Aristophanes: Essays in
Interpretation. Edited by Jeffrey Henderson. YCS 26. Cambridge, Mass: Cambridge
University Press, 1980.
Skehan, Patrick W., and Alexander A. Di Lella. The Wisdom of Ben Sira: A New Trans-
lation with Notes and Commentary. AB 39. New York: Doubleday, 1987.
Smith, Peter M. On the Hymn to Zeus in Aeschylus’ Agamemnon. Chico, Calif.: Scholars
Press, 1980.
Spinks, Bryan D. The Sanctus in the Eucharistic Prayer. Cambridge: Cambridge Univer-
sity Press, 1991.
Stegemann, Hartmut. “The Number of Psalms in 1QHodayot and Some of Their Sec-
tions.” Pages 191–234 in Liturgical Perspectives: Prayer and Poetry in Light of the
Dead Sea Scrolls. Edited by Esther G. Chazon. Leiden: Brill, 2003.
Thalmann, William G. Conventions of Form and Thought in Early Greek Epic Poetry.
Baltimore: Johns Hopkins University Press, 1984.
Thom, Johan C. Cleanthes’ Hymn to Zeus. STAC 33. Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2005.
Thraede, Klaus. “Hymnus.” RAC 16 (1994): 915–946.
van den Berg, Robert M. Proclus' Hymns: Essays, Translations, Commentary. Boston:
Brill, 2001.
Vanderlip, Vera. The Four Greek Hymns of Isidorus and the Cult of Isis. Toronto:
University of Toronto Press, 1972.
Watts, James W. Psalm and Story: Inset Hymns in Hebrew Narrative. JSOTSup 139.
Sheffield: JSOT Press, 1992.
Weitzman, Steven. Song and Story in Biblical Narrative: The History of a Literary Con-
vention in Ancient Israel. Bloomington, Ind.: Indiana University Press, 1997.
Westermann, Claus. Praise and Lament in the Psalms. Atlanta: John Knox Press, 1981.
–. The Psalms: Structure, Content and Message. Minneapolis: Augsburg, 1980.
Williams, Frederick. Callimachus’ Hymn to Apollo: A Commentary. Oxford: Clarendon
Press, 1978.
Wünsch, Richard. “Hymnos.” PW 9.1 (1914): 140–183.

Choral Poets and Choral Phenomena in Antiquity

Anderson, Warren D. Music and Musicians in Ancient Greece. Ithaca, N.Y.: Cornell
University Press, 1994.
Anthologia Lyrica Graeca. Fasc. III. Edited by Ernst Diehl and Rudolf Beutler. Leipzig:
Teubner, 1952.
Barker, Andrew, ed. Greek Musical Writings. Vol 1: The Musician and His Art. Cam-
bridge: Cambridge University Press, 1984.
Luigi Battezzato, “Lyric.” Pages 149–166 in A Companion to Greek Tragedy. Edited by
Justina Gregory. Malden, Mass.: Blackwell Publishing, 2005.
Bowra, Cecil M. Pindar. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1964.
Bundy, Elroy L. Studia Pindarica. 2 vols. Berkeley: University of California Press, 1962.
Burnett, Anne P. The Art of Bacchylides. Cambridge, Mass.: Harvard University Press,
1985.
Burton, Reginald W. B. Pindar’s Pythian Odes. Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1962.
332 Bibliography

Calame, Claude. Alcman: Introduction, texte critique, témoignages, traduction et com-

mentaire. Rome: Edizioni dell’Ateneo, 1983.
–. Choruses of Ancient Women in Greece: Their Morphology, Religious Roles and
Social Functions. Translated by Derek Collins and Janice Orion. Lanham, Md.: Row-
man & Littlefield, 1996.
Calder, William M., and Jacob Stern, eds. Pindaros und Bakchylides. Darmstadt: Wissen-
schaftliche Buchgesellschaft, 1970.
Campbell, David A. “Anacreon.” Pages 175–179 in Early Greek Poetry. Edited by Pat E.
Easterling, Bernard MacGregor, and Walker Knox. Cambridge: Cambridge University
Press, 1989.
–. ed. Greek Lyric Poetry: A Selection of Early Greek Lyric, Elegiac and Iambic Poetry.
London: Bristol Classical Press, 2003.
Capps, Edward. “The Chorus in Later Greek Drama.” The American Journal of Archaeol-
ogy and of the History of the Fine Arts 10 (Jul.–Sept. 1895): 287–325.
Carne-Ross, Donald S. Pindar. New Haven: Yale University Press, 1985.
Coles, Revel A. “A New Fragment of Post-Classical Tragedy from Oxyrhynchus.” BICS
15 (1968): 110–118.
Crowhurst, Roger. “Representations of Performances of Choral Lyric on the Greek
Monuments 800–350 B.C.” Ph.D. diss., University of London, 1963.
D’Alfonso, Francesca. Stesicoro e la performance. Rome: GEI, 1994.
D’Angour, Armand. “How the Dithyramb Got Its Shape.” CQ 47.2 (1997): 331–351.
D’Anna, Joannes, ed. M. Pacuvii Fragmenta. Rome: Edizioni dell’Ateneo Roma, 1967.
Davies, Malcolm. “Monody, Choral Lyric, and the Tyranny of the Handbook.” CQ 38
(1988): 52–64.
Easterling, Pat E., Bernard MacGregor, and Walker Knox, eds. Early Greek Poetry.
Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1989.
Fagles, Robert. Bacchylides: The Complete Poems. New Haven: Yale University Press,
1998.
Färber, Hans. Die Lyrik in der Kunsttheorie der Antike. München: Neuer Filser, 1936.
Fearn, David. Bacchylides: Politics, Performance, and Poetic Tradition. Oxford: Oxford
University Press, 2007.
Fussell, Paul Jr. Poetic Meter and Poetic Form. New York: Random House, 1965.
Garzya, Antonio. Alcmane: I frammenti. Naples: Casa Editrice Dr. Silvio Viti, 1954.
Gentili, Bruno. Anacreon. Rome: Edizioni dell’ Ateneo, 1958.
Gerber, Douglas E., ed. A Companion to the Greek Lyric Poets. Leiden: Brill, 1997.
–. “General Introduction.” Pages 1–10 in A Companion to the Greek Lyric Poets. Edited
by Douglas E. Gerber. Leiden: Brill, 1997.
Green, J. Richard. “On Seeing and Depicting the Theatre in Classical Athens.” GRBS 32
(1991): 15–50.
Halporn, James W., Martin Ostwald, and Thomas G. Rosenmeyer, eds. The Meters of
Greek and Latin Poetry. 2 nd ed. Norman, Okla.: University of Oklahoma Press, 1980.
Harvey, Anthony E. “The Classification of Greek Lyric Poetry.” CQ 5:3/4 (1955): 157–
175.
Heath, Malcolm. “Receiving the κῶµος: The Context and Performance of Epinician.”
AJP 109 (1988): 180–195.
Herington, John. Poetry into Drama: Early Tragedy and the Greek Poetic Tradition.
Berkeley: University of California Press, 1985.
Hose, Martin. “Anmerkungen zur Verwendung des Chores in der römischen Tragödie der
Republik.” Pages 113–137 in Der Chor im antiken und modernen Drama. Edited by
Peter Riemer and Bernhard Zimmermann. Stuttgart: J. B. Metzler, 1998.
 Choral Poets and Choral Phenomena in Antiquity 333

Huxley, George L. Greek Epic Poetry from Eumelos to Panyassis. London: Faber, 1969.
Janko, Richard. Homer, Hesiod, and the Hymns. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press,
1982.
Jebb, Richard C. Bacchylides: The Poems and Fragments. Cambridge: Cambridge Uni-
versity Press, 1905.
Käppel, Lutz. Paian: Studien zur Geschichte einer Gattung. Berlin/New York: Walter de
Gruyter, 1992.
Landels, John G. Music in Ancient Greece and Rome. London: Routledge, 1999.
Lattimore, Richard, ed. The Odes of Pindar. 2nd ed. Chicago: University of Chicago
Press, 1976.
Lefkowitz, Mary. “The First Person in Pindar Reconsidered – Again.” BICS 40 (1995):
139–150.
–. The Victory Ode: An Introduction. Park Ridge, N.J.: Noyes Press, 1976.
Kenyon, Frederic G., ed. The Poems of Bacchylides. London: British Museum, 1897.
Kurke, Leslie V. “The Strangeness of ‘Song Culture’: Archaic Greek Poetry.” Pages 58–
87 in Literature in the Greek and Roman Worlds: A New Perspective. Edited by
Oliver Taplin. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2000.
Lawler, Lillian B. “Phora, Schema, Deixis in the Greek Dance.” Transactions and Pro-
ceedings of the American Philological Association 85 (1954): 148–158.
–. The Dance in Ancient Greece. London: A. & C. Black, 1964.
–. The Dance of the Ancient Greek Theatre. London: A. & C. Black, 1964.
–. “The Dancing Figures from Palaikastro – A New Interpretation.” AJA 44 (1940): 106–
107.
Lonsdale, Steven H. “Homeric Hymn to Apollo: Prototype and Paradigm of Choral Per-
formance.” Arion 3 (Fall 1994/Winter1995): 25–40.
Maas, Paul. Greek Metre. Translated by Hugh Lloyd-Jones. Oxford: Clarendon Press,
1962.
MacLachlan, Bonnie C. “Anacreon.” Pages 198–212 in A Companion to the Greek Lyric
Poets. Edited by Douglas E. Gerber. Leiden: Brill, 1997.
Maehler, Herwig. Die Lieder des Bakchylides. Erster Teil: Die Siegeslieder. 2 vols.
Leiden: Brill, 1982.
–. Pindarus. Vol. 2. Leipzig: Teubner, 1989.
Molyneux, John H. Simonides: A Historical Study. Wauconda, Ill.: Bolchazy-Carducci,
1992.
Mullen, William. Choreia: Pindar and Dance. Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1982.
Myres, John L. Handbook of the Cesnola Collection of Antiquities from Cyprus. New
York: Metropolitan Museum of Art, 1914.
Nisetich, Frank. Pindar’s Victory Songs. Baltimore: Johns Hopkins Press, 1980.
Race, William H. Pindar. Boston: Twayne, 1986.
–. Style and Rhetoric in Pindar’s Odes. Atlanta: Scholars Press, 1990.
Ribbeck, Otto, ed. Scaenicae Romanorum Poesis Fragmenta. Vol. 1. Leipzig: Teubner,
1871.
Robbins, Emmet. “Alcman.” Pages 223–231 in A Companion to the Greek Lyric Poets.
Edited by Douglas E. Gerber. Leiden: Brill, 1997.
–. “Bacchylides.” Pages 278–287 in A Companion to the Greek Lyric Poets. Edited by
Douglas E. Gerber. Leiden: Brill, 1997.
–. “Ibycus.” Pages 187–189 in A Companion to the Greek Lyric Poets. Edited by Douglas
E. Gerber. Leiden: Brill, 1997.
–. “Pindar.” Pages 268–273 in A Companion to the Greek Lyric Poets. Edited by Douglas
E. Gerber. Leiden: Brill, 1997.
334 Bibliography

–. “Stesichorus.” Pages 232–242 in A Companion to the Greek Lyric Poets. Edited by

Douglas E. Gerber. Leiden: Brill, 1997.
Rosenmeyer, Patricia. The Poetics of Imitation: Anacreon and the Anacreontic Tradition.
Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1992.
Rossi, L. Enrico. “I generi e le loro leggi scritte e non scritte nelle letterature classiche.”
BICS 18 (1971): 69–94.
Rutherford, Ian. Pindar’s Paeans: A Reading of the Fragments with a Survey of the
Genre. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2001.
Schmidt, Desmond A. “Bacchylides 17: Paean or Dithyramb?” Hermes 118 (1990): 18–
31.
Scott, William C. Musical Design in Aeschylean Theatre. Hanover, N.H.: Published for
Dartmouth College by University Press of New England, 1984.
Slavitt, David R. Epinician Odes and Dithyrambs of Bacchylides. Philadelphia: Universi-
ty of Pennsylvania Press, 1998.
Smyth, Herbert W. Greek Melic Poets. London: MacMillan, 1906.
Snell, Bruno, and Herwig Maehler. Bacchylidis Carmina cum Fragmentis. Leipzig:
Teubner, 1970.
–. Pindarus. Vol. 1. Leipzig: Teubner, 1987.
Stehle, Eva. Performance and Gender in Ancient Greece: Nondramatic Poetry in Its
Setting. Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1997.
Swift, Laura. The Hidden Chorus: Echoes of Genre in Tragic Lyric. Oxford: Oxford
University Press, 2010.
Thomas, Rosalind. Literacy and Orality in Ancient Greece. Cambridge: Cambridge Uni-
versity Press, 1992.
Tölle, Renate. Frühgriechische Reigentänze. Waldsassen: Stiftland-Verlag, 1964.
Turyn, Alexander. Pindari carmina cum fragmentis. Oxford: Blackwell, 1948.
van der Weiden, Maria J. H. The Dithyrambs of Pindar: Introduction, Text, and Com-
mentary. Amsterdam: J. C. Gieben, 1991.
Warmington, Eric H., ed. Remains of Old Latin. Vol. 1: Ennius and Caecilius. Cam-
bridge, Mass.: Harvard University Press, 1936.
Webster, Thomas B. L. The Greek Chorus. London: Methuen, 1970.
Weiden, Maria J. H. van der. The Dithyrambs of Pindar: Introduction, Text, and Com-
mentary. Amsterdam: J. C. Gieben, 1991.
West, Martin L. Greek Metre. Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1982.
–. “Stesichorus.” CQ 21 (1971): 302–314.
Woodbury, Leonard. “Ibycus and Polycrates.” Phoenix 39 (1985): 193–220.
Young, David C. “Pindaric Criticism.” Pages 1–95 in Pindaros und Bakchylides. Edited
by William M. Calder and Jacob Stern. Darmstadt: Wissenschaftliche Buchgesell-
schaft, 1970.
Zimmermann, Bernhard. Dithyrambos: Geschichte einer Gattung. Göttingen: Verlag
Antike, 1992.

Greek Tragedy

Allen, James Turney. The Greek Theatre of the Fifth Century Before Christ. New York:
Haskell House, 1966.
Andújar, Rosa. “The Chorus in Dialogue: Reading Lyric Exchanges in Greek Tragedy.”
Ph.D. diss., Princeton University, 2011.
Arnott, Peter D. An Introduction to Greek Theatre. New York: St. Martin’s, 1967.
 Greek Tragedy 335

–. Greek Scenic Conventions in the Fifth-Century B.C. Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1962.
–. Public and Performance in the Greek Theatre. London: Routledge, 1989.
–. The Ancient Greek and Roman Theatre. New York: Random House, 1971.
Ashby, Clifford. Classical Greek Theatre: New Views of an Old Subject. Iowa City,
Iowa: University of Iowa Press, 1999.
–. “Where Was the Altar?” Pages 42–61 in his Classical Greek Theatre: New Views of
an Old Subject. Iowa City: University of Iowa Press, 1999.
Aylen, Leo. The Greek Theatre. Cranbury, N.J.: Associated University Presses, 1985.
Bacon, Helen. “The Chorus in Greek Life and Drama.” Arion 3.1 (1995): 6–24.
Baldry, Harold C. The Greek Tragic Theatre. London: Chatto & Windus, 1971.
Balsdon, John P. V. D. Life and Leisure in Ancient Rome. New York: Bodley Head,
1967.
Barrett, James. Staged Narrative: Poetics and the Messenger in Greek Tragedy. Berke-
ley: University of California Press, 2002.
Beacham, Richard. Spectacle Entertainments of Early Imperial Rome. New Haven: Yale
University Press, 1999.
–. The Roman Theatre and Its Audience. London: Routledge, 1991.
Beare, William. The Roman Stage: A Short History of Latin Drama in the Time of the
Republic. 3 rd ed. London: Methuen & Co., 1964.
Bethe, Erich. “Die griechische Tragödie und die Musik.” NJahrb 19 (1907): 81–95.
Beverley, Elizabeth J. “The Dramatic Function of Actor’s Monody in Later Euripides.”
D.Phil. diss., Oxford University, 1997.
Bieber, Margarete. History of the Greek and Roman Theatre. Princeton: Princeton Uni-
versity Press, 1939.
Bishop, David J. “The Choral Odes of Seneca: Theme and Development.” Ph.D. diss.,
University of Pennsylvania, 1964.
Bloom, Harold, ed. Greek Drama. Philadelphia: Chelsea House Publishers, 2004.
Boyle, Anthony J. An Introduction to Roman Tragedy. New York: Routledge, 2006.
–. “Senecan Tragedy: Twelve Propositions.” Pages 78–101 in The Imperial Muse:
Ramus Essays on Roman Literature of the Empire. Edited by Anthony J. Boyle.
Melbourne: Aureal, 1988.
–. Seneca Tragicus: Ramus Essays on Senecan Drama. Melbourne: Aureal, 1983.
–. “Hic Epulis Locus: The Tragic Worlds of Seneca’s Agamemnon and Thyestes.” Pages
199–228 in Seneca Tragicus: Ramus Essays on Senecan Drama. Edited by Anthony J.
Boyle. Berwick, Australia; Aureal, 1983.
Bremer, Jan M. “Why Messenger-Speeches?” Pages 29–48 in Miscellanea Tragica in
Honorem J. C. Kamerbeek. Edited by S. L. Radt, J. M. Bremer, and C. J. Ruijgh.
Amsterdam: Hakkert, 1976.
Brothers, A. J. “Buildings for Entertainment.” Pages 97–125 in Roman Public Archi-
tecture. Edited by Ian M. Barton. Exeter: University of Exeter Press, 1989.
Burian, Peter. “Myth into Mythos: The Shaping of Tragic Plot.” Pages 321–354 in Greek
Drama. Edited by Harold Bloom. Philadelphia: Chelsea House, 2004.
Burton, Reginald W. B. The Chorus in Sophocles’ Tragedies. Oxford: Clarendon Press,
1980.
Calder, William M. “Originality in Seneca’s Troades.” CP 65 (1970): 75–82.
–. “The Size of the Chorus in Seneca’s Agamemnon.” CP 70.1 (Jan., 1975): 32–35.
Canter, Howard Vernon. Rhetorical Elements in the Tragedies of Seneca. Champaign,
Ill.: University of Illinois Press, 1925.
Carter, David M. The Politics of Greek Tragedy. Exeter: Exeter Press, 2007.
336 Bibliography

Ceccarelli, Paola, and Silvia Milanezi. “Dithyramb, Tragedy – and Cyrene.” Pages 185–
214 in The Greek Theatre and Festivals. Edited by Peter Wilson. Oxford: Oxford
University Press, 2007.
Chaniotis, A. “Theatre Rituals.” Pages 48–66 in The Greek Theatre and Festivals. Edited
by Peter Wilson. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2007.
Conacher, Desmond J. Aeschylus: The Earlier Plays and Related Studies. Toronto:
University of Toronto Press, 1996.
–. “Interaction between Chorus and Characters in the Oresteia.” AJP 95.4 (1974): 323–
343.
Cornford, Francis M. “The So-Called Kommos in Greek Tragedy.” The Classical Review
27.2 (Mar., 1913): 41–45.
Crowther, Charles “The Dionysus at Iasos: Its Artists, Patrons, and Audience.” Pages
295–334 in Greek Theatre and Festivals. Edited by Peter Wilson. Oxford: Oxford
University Press, 2007.
Csapo, Eric, and William J. Slater, eds. The Context of Ancient Drama. Ann Arbor: Uni-
versity of Michigan Press, 1995.
Curley, Thomas F. The Nature of Senecan Drama. Rome: Edizioni dell’Ateneo, 1986.
Dale, Amy Marjorie. “The Chorus in the Action of Greek Tragedy.” Pages 17–27 in Clas-
sical Drama and Its Influence. Edited by Michael J. Anderson. London: Methuen, 1965.
–. The Collected Papers of A. M. Dale. Edited by Thomas B. L. Webster and E. Gardner
Turner. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1969.
–. The Lyric Metres of Greek Drama. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1948.
Davidson, John F. “The Circle and the Tragic Chorus.” GR 33:1 (Apr., 1986): 38–46.
Davis, Peter J. Seneca: Thyestes. London: Duckworth, 2003.
–. Shifting Song: The Chorus in Seneca’s Tragedies. Hildesheim: Olms-Weidmann, 1993.
De Jong, Irene J. F. Narrative in Drama: The Art of the Euripidean Messenger-Speech.
Mnemosyne Supplementum 116. Leiden: Brill, 1991.
Deubner, Ludwig. Attische Feste. Berlin: Heinrich Keller, 1932.
Dewey, Ann Reynolds Lawler. “The Chorus in Senecan Tragedy exclusive of Hercules
Oetaeus and Octavia.” Ph.D. diss., Columbia University, 1968.
Dihle, Albrecht. “Seneca und die Aufführungspraxis der römischen Tragödie.” Antike
und Abendland 29 (1983): 162–171.
Dingel, Joachim. Seneca und die Dichtung. Heidelberg: C. Winter, 1974.
Dodds, Eric R. Bacchae. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1960.
Dörpfeld, Wilhelm, and Emil Reisch. Das griechische Theater. Athens: Barth und von
Hirst, 1896.
Duckworth, George E. The Nature of Roman Comedy: A Study in Popular Entertainment.
Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1952.
Dunn, Francis M. Tragedy’s End: Closure and Innovation in Euripidean Drama. Oxford:
Oxford University Press, 1996.
Dupont, Florence. L’acteur-roi ou le théâtre dans la Rome antique. Paris: Belles Lettres,
1985.
Easterling, Pat E. “A Show for Dionysos.” Pages 36–53 in The Cambridge Companion to
Greek Tragedy. Edited by Pat E. Easterling. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press,
1997.
–. “Constructing Character in Greek Tragedy.” Pages 82–99 in Characterization and
Individuality in Greek Literature. Edited by Christopher Pelling. Oxford: Clarendon
Press, 1990.
–. “Form and Performance.” Pages 151–177 in The Cambridge Companion to Greek
Tragedy. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1997.
 Greek Tragedy 337

–. “Presentation of Character in Aeschylus.” Pages 12–28 in Greek Tragedy. Edited by

Ian McAuslan and Peter Walcot. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1993.
–. “The End of an Era? Tragedy in the Early Fourth Century.” Pages 559–569 in
Tragedy, Comedy, and the Polis. Edited by Alan H. Sommerstein et al. Bari, Italy:
Levante Editori, 1993.
Ebener, Dietrich. Rhesos: Tragödie eines unbekannten Dichters. Berlin: Akademie Ver-
lag, 1966.
Else, Gerald. The Origin and Early Form of Greek Tragedy. Cambridge, Mass.: Harvard
University Press, 1965.
Erasmo, Mario. Roman Tragedy: Theatre to Theatricality. Austin: University of Texas
Press, 2004.
Erp Taalman Kip, A. Maria van. Reader and Spectator: Problems in the Interpretation of
Greek Tragedy. Amsterdam: J. C. Gieben, 1990.
Esposito, Stephen. “The Changing Roles of the Sophoclean Chorus.” Arion 4.1 (Spr.,
1996): 85–114.
Euben, J. Peter. Greek Tragedy and Political Theory. Berkeley: University of California
Press, 1986.
Fantham, Elaine. “Roman Tragedy.” Pages 116–129 in A Companion to Latin Literature.
Edited by S. Harrison. Oxford: Wiley-Blackwell, 2005.
–. Seneca’s Troades. Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1982.
Finkelberg, Margalit. “The City Dionysia and the Social Space of Attic Tragedy.” Pages
17–26 in Greek Drama III: Essays in Honour of Kevin Lee. Edited by John Davidson,
Frances Muecke, and Peter Wilson. BICS Supplement 87. London: Institute of
Classical Studies, 2006.
Fitch, John G. “Sense-Pauses and Relative Dating in Seneca, Sophocles and Shake-
speare.” AJP 102 (1981): 289–307.
Fitton Brown, Anthony David. “The Size of the Greek Tragic Chorus.” The Classical
Review 7.1 (Mar., 1957): 1–4.
Fletcher, Judith. “Choral Voice and Narrative in the First Stasimon of Aeschylus’ Aga-
memnon.” Phoenix 53.1/2 (Spring–Summer 1999): 29–49.
Flickinger, Roy C. The Greek Theater and Its Drama. Chicago: University of Chicago
Press, 1918.
Flower, Harriet I. “Fabulae Praetextae in Context: When Were Plays on Contemporary
Subjects Performed in Republican Rome?” CQ 45 (1995): 170–190.
Foley, Helen P. “Choral Identity in Greek Tragedy.” CP 98 (2003): 1–30.
Fraenkel, Eduard. Plautine Elements in Plautus. Translated by Tomas Drevikovsky and
Frances Muecke. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2007.
Frank, Marica. Seneca’s Phoenissae: Introduction and Commentary. Leiden: Brill, 1995.
Friedrich, Rainer. “Drama and Ritual.” Pages 159–223 in Drama and Religion. Edited by
James Redmond. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1983.
–. “Everything to Do with Dionysos? Ritualism, the Dionysiac, and the Tragic.” Pages
257–283 in Tragedy and the Tragic. Edited by Michael S. Silk. Oxford: Oxford
University Press, 1996.
Furley, William D. “Hymns in Euripidean Tragedy.” Pages 183–197 in Euripides and
Tragic Theatre in the Late Fifth Century. Edited by Martin J. Cropp, Kevin Lee, and
David Sansone. Champaign, Ill.: University of Illinois Press, 2000.
Gardiner, Cynthia P. The Sophoclean Chorus: A Study of Character and Function. Iowa
City: University of Iowa Press, 1987.
Garvie, Alexander F. Aeschylus’ Supplices: Play and Trilogy. Cambridge: Cambridge
University Press, 1969.
338 Bibliography

Gentili, Bruno. Theatrical Performances in the Ancient World: Hellenistic and Early
Roman Theatre. Amsterdam and Uithoorn: 1979.
Ghiron-Bistagne, Paulette. Recherches sur les acteurs dans la Grèce antique. Paris:
Société d’Édition ‘Les Belles Lettres’, 1976.
Goldhill, Simon. “Character and Action, Representation and Reading: Greek Tragedy and
Its Critics.” Pages 100–127 in Characterization and Individuality in Greek Theatre.
Edited by Christopher Pelling. Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1990.
–. Reading Greek Tragedy. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1986.
–. “Representing Democracy: Women at the Great Dionysia.” Pages 347–369 in Ritual,
Finance, Politics. Edited by Robin Osborne and Simon Hornblower. Oxford: Oxford
University Press, 1994.
–. The Oresteia. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1992.
Gomme, Arnold W., and Francis H. Sandbach. Menander: A Commentary. Oxford: Ox-
ford University Press, 1973.
Gould, John. Myth, Ritual, Memory, and Exchange. Oxford: Oxford University Press,
2001.
–. “Tragedy and Collective Experience.” Pages 217–243 in Tragedy and the Tragic:
Greek Theatre and Beyond. Edited by M. S. Silk. Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1996.
Goward, Barbara. Telling Tragedy: Narrative Technique in Aeschylus, Sophocles, and
Euripides. London: Duckworth, 1999.
Green, J. Richard. “Notes on Phylax Vases.” Numismatica e Antichità classiche 20
(1991): 49–56.
Grimal, Pierre. “Sénèque: Le théâtre latin entre la scène et le livre.” Vita Latina 89
(1983): 2–13.
–. Sénèque, ou la conscience de l’Empire. Paris: Les Belles Lettres, 1977.
Grube, George M. A. The Drama of Euripides. London: Methuen, 1941.
Gruber, Markus A. Der Chor in den Tragödien des Aischylos: Affekt und Reaktion.
Tübingen: Gunter Narr, 2009.
Hall, Edith. “Actor’s Song in Tragedy.” Pages 96–124 in Performance, Culture, and
Athenian Democracy. Edited by Simon Goldhill and Robin Osborne. Cambridge:
Cambridge University Press, 1999.
–. “The Singing Actors of Antiquity.” Pages 3–38 in Greek and Roman Actors: Aspects
of an Ancient Profession. Edited by Pat Easterling and Edith Hall. Cambridge:
Cambridge University Press, 2002.
Hall, Edith, and Stephe Harrop, eds. Theorising Performance: Greek Drama, Cultural
History and Critical Practice. London: Duckworth, 2010.
Hamilton, Richard. “Announced Entrances in Greek Tragedy.” HSCP 82 (1978): 63–82.
Handley, Eric W. The Dyskolos of Menander. Cambridge, Mass.: Harvard University
Press, 1965.
–. “ΧΟΡΟΥ in the Plutus?” CQ 3 (1953): 55–61.
Hanson, John Arthur. Roman Theater-Temples. Princeton: Princeton University Press,
1959.
Harrison, George W. M. “Semper ego auditor tantum? Performance and Physical Setting
of Seneca’s Plays.” Pages 137–150 in Seneca in Performance. Edited by George
W. M. Harrison. London: Duckworth, 2000.
–. ed. Seneca in Performance. London: Duckworth, 2000.
Heath, Malcolm. The Poetics of Greek Tragedy. London: Duckworth, 1987.
Henrichs, Albert. “Why Should I Dance?” Arion 3.1 (1994/95): 73–90.
Henry, Denis, and Elizabeth Walker. “Tacitus and Seneca.” GR 10 (1963): 98–110.
Herington, Cecil J. “Senecan Tragedy.” Arion 5 (1966): 422–471.
 Greek Tragedy 339

Herrmann, Léon. Le théâtre de Sénèque. Paris: Belles Lettres, 1924.

Herzog, Otto. “Datierung der Tragödien des Seneca.” RhM 77 (1928): 51–104.
Hubbard, Thomas K. The Mask of Comedy: Aristophanes and the Intertextual Parabasis.
Ithaca: Cornell University Press, 1991.
Jacobson, Howard. The Exagoge of Ezekiel. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press,
1983.
–. “Two Studies on Ezekiel the Tragedian.” GRBS 22 (1981): 121–139.
Jocelyn, Henry D. The Tragedies of Ennius. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press,
1967.
Jory, Edward J. “Associations of Actors in Rome.” Hermes 98 (1970): 224–253.
Kaimio, Maarit. The Chorus of Greek Drama within the Light of the Person and Number
Used. Helsinki: Societas Scientiarum Fennica, 1970.
Kelly, Henry Ansgar. “Tragedy and the Performance of Tragedy in Late Roman Antiqui-
ty.” Traditio 35 (1979): 21–44.
Kernodle, George R. “Symbolic Action in the Greek Choral Odes?” CJ 53.1 (Oct., 1957):
1–7.
Kirkwood, Gordon M. A Study of Sophoclean Drama. Ithaca: Cornell University Press,
1958.
–. “The Dramatic Role of the Chorus in Sophocles.” Phoenix 8.1 (Spring, 1954): 1–22.
Kitto, Humphrey D. F. Form and Meaning in Drama: A Study of Six Greek Plays and of
Hamlet. London: Methuen & Co., 1960.
–. “Le déclin de la tragédie à Athènes et en Angleterre.” Pages 65–73 in Le théâtre
tragique: Études de G. Antoine et al. réunies et présentées par J. Jacquot. Edited by
Jean Jacquot. Paris: Éditions du CNRS, 1962.
Konstan, David. Greek Comedy and Ideology. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1995.
Kranz, Walther. Stasimon: Untersuchungen zu Form und Gehalt der griechischen Tragö-
die. Berlin: Weidmannsche Buchhandlung, 1933.
Kuch, Heinrich. “Continuity and Change in Greek Tragedy under Postclassical Condi-
tions.” Pages 545–557 in Tragedy, Comedy, and the Polis. Edited by Alan H.
Sommerstein et al. Bari, Italy: Levante Editori, 1993.
Kugelmeier, Christoph. “Chorische Reflexion und dramatische Handlung bei Seneca –
einige Beobachtungen zur Phaedra.” Pages 139–169 in Der Chor im antiken und
modernen Drama. Edited by Peter Riemer and Bernhard Zimmermann. Stuttgart: J. B.
Metzler, 1998.
Kuntz, Mary. Narrative Setting and Dramatic Poetry. Leiden: Brill, 1993.
Larmour, David H. J. Stage and Stadium. Hildesheim: Weidmann, 1999.
Lattimore, Richard. Story Patterns in Greek Tragedy. Ann Arbor: University of Michigan
Press, 1965.
Lech, Marcel. “Marching Choruses? Choral Performance in Athens.” GRBS 49.3 (2009):
343–361.
Le Guen, Brigitte. “L’activité dramatique dans les îles grecques à l’époque helléni-
stique.” REA 103.1/2 (2001): 261–298.
–. Les associations de technites dionysiaques à l’époque hellénistique. 2 vols. Paris:
ADRA, 2001.
–. “Théâtre et cités à l’époque hellénistique: ‘Mort de la cité – mort du théâtre?’” REG
108 (1995): 59–90.
Leigh, Matthew. Comedy and the Rise of Rome. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2004.
Leo, Friedrich. “Die Composition der Chorlieder Senecas.” RhM 52 (1897): 509–518.
Ley, Graham. Theatricality of Greek Tragedy: Playing Space and Chorus. Chicago:
University of Chicago Press, 2007.
340 Bibliography

Liapis, Vayos. A Commentary on the Rhesus Attributed to Euripides. Oxford: Oxford

University Press, 2012.
Lightfoot, Jane L. “Nothing to Do with the technitai of Dionysus?” Pages 209–224 in
Greek and Roman Actors: Aspects of an Ancient Profession. Edited by Pat Easterling
and Edith Hall. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2002.
Little, Alan M. G. Myth and Society in Attic Drama. New York: Octagon Books, 1967.
Loraux, Nicole. Tragic Ways of Killing a Woman. Cambridge, Mass.: Harvard University
Press, 1987.
Maaß, Michael. Die Prohedrie des Dionysostheaters in Athen. Vestigia 15. München:
C. H. Beck, 1972.
Maidment, Kenneth J. “The Later Comic Chorus.” CQ 29 (1935): 1–24.
Manuwald, Gesine. Roman Republican Theatre. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press,
2011.
Marshall, C. W. “How to Write a Messenger Speech.” Pages 203–221 in Greek Drama
III: Essays in Honour of Kevin Lee. Edited by John Davidson, Frances Muecke, and
Peter Wilson. BICS Supplement 87. London: Institute of Classical Studies, 2006.
–. “LOCATION! LOCATION! LOCATION! Choral Absence and Dramatic Space in
Seneca’s Troades.” Pages 27–52 in Seneca in Performance. Edited by George W. M.
Harrison. London: Duckworth, 2000.
–. The Stagecraft and Performance of Roman Comedy. Cambridge: Cambridge Univer-
sity Press, 2006.
Marti, Berthe. “Seneca’s Tragedies: A New Interpretation.” TAPA 76 (1945): 216–245.
Marx, Wilhelm. Funktion und Form der Chorlieder in den Seneca-Tragödien. Köln:
Peter Kappes, 1932.
Mastronarde, Donald J. The Art of Euripides: Dramatic Technique and Social Context.
Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2010.
McDonald, Marianne, and J. Michael Walton, eds. The Cambridge Companion to Greek
and Roman Theatre. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2007.
Meier, Christian. Die politische Kunst der griechischen Tragödie. München: Beck, 1988.
Meijerink, Roos. “Aristophanes of Byzantium and Scholia on the Composition of the
Dramatic Choruses.” Pages 91–102 in Σχόλια: Studia ad criticam interpretationem-
que textuum Graecorum et ad historiam iuris Graeco-Romani pertinentia D. Hol-
werda oblata. Edited by Willem J. Aerts et al. Groningen: Egbert Forsten, 1985.
Mendell, Clarence W. Our Seneca. New Haven: Yale University Press, 1941.
Michelini, Ann Norris. Euripides and the Tragic Tradition. Madison: University of
Wisconsin Press, 1987.
Mikalson, Jon D. Honor Thy Gods: Popular Religion in Greek Tragedy. Chapel Hill,
N.C.: University of North Carolina Press, 1991.
Moore, Timothy J. “When Did the tibicen Play? Meter and Musical Accompaniment in
Roman Comedy.” TAPA 138 (2008): 20–38.
Murray, Gilbert. Aeschylus: The Creator of Tragedy. Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1968.
–. The Rhesus of Euripides. London: George Allen & Co., 1913.
Nervegna, Sebastiana. “Staging Scenes or Plays? Theatrical Revivals of ‘Old’ Greek
Drama in Antiquity.” ZPE 162 (2007): 14–42.
Nietzsche, Friedrich. The Birth of Tragedy. Translated by Douglas Smith. Oxford:
Oxford University Press, 2008.
Norwood, Gilbert. Greek Tragedy. London: Methuen, 1948.
Oddone, Longo, “The Theater of the Polis.” Pages 12–19 in Nothing to Do with Dio-
nysus? Athenian Drama in Its Social Context. Edited by John J. Winkler and Froma I.
Zeitlin. Princeton, N.J.: Princeton University Press, 1992.
 Greek Tragedy 341

Osborne, Robin. “Competitive Festivals and the Polis: A Context for Dramatic Festivals
at Athens.” Pages 21–37 in Tragedy, Comedy and the Polis. Edited by Alan H. Som-
merstein et al. Bari, Italy: Levante Editori, 1993.
Padel, Ruth. “Making Space Speak.” Pages 336–365 in Nothing to Do with Dionysos?
Athenian Drama in Its Social Context. Edited by John J. Winkler and Froma I. Zeitlin.
Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1990.
Parry, Hugh. The Lyric Poems of Greek Tragedy. Toronto: Samuel Stevens, 1978.
Phoutrides, Aristides E. “The Chorus of Euripides.” HSCP 27 (1916): 77–170.
Pickard-Cambridge, Sir Arthur. Dithyramb, Tragedy, and Comedy. Revised by T. B. L.
Webster. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1962.
–. The Dramatic Festivals of Athens. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1989.
–. The Theatre of Dionysus in Athens. Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1946.
Podlecki, Anthony J. “Could Women Attend the Theatre in Ancient Athens?” Ancient
World 21 (1990): 27–43.
Pohlenz, Max. Die griechische Tragödie: Erläuterungen. 2 nd ed. Göttingen: Vanden-
hoeck & Ruprecht, 1954.
Popp, Hans-Jürgen. “Das Amoibaion.” Pages 221–275 in Die Bauformen der griechi-
schen Tragödie. Edited by Walter Jens. München: Wilhelm Fink, 1971.
Pratt, Norman T. “The Stoic Basis of Senecan Drama.” TAPA 79 (1948): 1–11.
Raby, Gyllian. “Seneca’s Trojan Women: Identity and Survival in the Aftermath of War.”
Pages 173–195 in Seneca in Performance. Edited by George W. M. Harrison.
London: Duckworth, 2000.
Rehm, Rush. “Festivals and Audiences in Athens and Rome.” Pages 184–201 in Cam-
bridge Companion to Greek and Roman Theatre. Edited by Marianne McDonald and
J. Michael Walton; Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2007.
–. Greek Tragic Theatre. London: Routledge, 1992.
–. Marriage to Death: The Conflation of Wedding and Funeral Rituals in Greek Tra-
gedy. Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1994.
–. “Performing the Chorus: Choral Action, Interaction, and Absence in Euripides.”
Arion 4.1 (Spring, 1996): 45–60.
Reinhold, Meyer. Classical Drama: Greek and Roman. Great Neck, N.Y.: Barron’s
Educational Series, Inc., 1959.
Ridgeway, William. The Dramas and Dramatic Dances of Non-European Races. Cam-
bridge: Cambridge University Press, 1915.
Ritchie, William. The Authenticity of the Rhesus of Euripides. Cambridge: Cambridge
University Press, 1964.
Roberts, Deborah H. “Parting Words: Final lines in Sophocles and Euripides.” CQ 37
(1987): 51–64.
Roselli, David Kawalko. Theatre of the People: Spectators and Society in Ancient
Athens. Austin: University of Texas Press, 2011.
Rosenmeyer, Thomas G. “Elusory Voices: Thoughts about the Sophoclean Chorus.” Pages
557–571 in Nomodeiktes: Greek Studies in Honor of Martin Ostwald. Edited by Ralph
M. Rosen and Joseph Farrell. Ann Arbor: University of Michigan Press, 1993.
–. “Irony and Tragic Choruses.” Pages 31–44 in Ancient and Modern: Essays in Honor
of Gerald F. Else. Edited by John H. D’Arms and John William Eadie. Ann Arbor:
University of Michigan Press, 1977.
–. The Art of Aeschylus. Berkeley: University of California Press, 1983.
Rothwell, Kenneth, Jr. “The Continuity of the Chorus in Fourth-Century Attic Comedy,”
GRBS 33 (1992): 209–225.
342 Bibliography

Rutherford, Ian. “Theoria and Theatre at Samothrace: The Dardanos by Dymas of Iasos.”
Pages 279–293 in Greek Theatre and Festivals. Edited by Peter Wilson. Oxford:
Oxford University Press, 2007.
Sandbach, Francis H. The Comic Theatre of Greece and Rome. New York: Norton, 1977.
Schiesaro, Alessandro. “Republican Tragedy.” Pages 269–286 in A Companion to Tra-
gedy. Edited by Rebecca W. Bushnell. Malden, Mass.: Blackwell Publishing, 2005.
Schiller, Friedrich. “The Use of the Chorus in Tragedy.” Pages 1–16 in Greek Drama.
Edited by Harold Bloom. Philadelphia: Chelsea House Publishers, 2004.
Scott, William C. Musical Design in Aeschylean Theater. Hanover, N.H.: Published for
Dartmouth College by University Press of New England, 1984.
Scullion, Scott. “‘Nothing to Do with Dionysus.’” CQ 52 (2002): 102–137.
Seaford, Richard. Reciprocity and Ritual. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1994.
–. “The Tragic Wedding.” JHS 107 (1987): 106–130.
Sear, Frank. Roman Theatres: An Architectural Study. Oxford: Oxford University Press,
2006.
Segal, Charles. “Chorus and Community in Euripides’ Bacchae.” Pages 65–86 in Poet,
Public, and Performance in Ancient Greece. Edited by Lowell Edmunds and Robert
W. Wallace. Baltimore: Johns Hopkins Press, 1997.
–. Language and Desire in Seneca’s Phaedra. Princeton: Princeton University Press,
1986.
–. “The Chorus and the Gods in Oedipus Tyrannus.” Arion 4.1 (Spring, 1996): 20–32.
–. “The Gods and the Chorus: Zeus in Oedipus Tyrannus.” Pages 180–198 in Sophocles’
Tragic World: Divinity, Nature, Society. Cambridge, Mass.: Harvard University Press.
Seidensticker, Bernd. Die Gesprächsverdichtung in den Tragödien Senecas. Heidelberg:
C. Winter, 1969.
Sienkewicz, Thomas J. “Circles, Confusion, and the Chorus of Agamemnon.” Eranos 78
(1980): 133–142.
Sifakis, Gregory M. “High Stage and Chorus in the Hellenistic Theatre.” BICS 10 (1963):
31–45.
–. Studies in the History of Hellenistic Drama. London: Athlone, 1967.
Silk, Michael S., ed. Tragedy and the Tragic. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1996.
Slater, Niall W. Plautus in Performance: The Theatre of the Mind. Princeton: Princeton
University Press, 1985.
Smith, Tylor J. “The Corpus of Komast Vases: From Identity to Exegesis.” Pages 48–76
in The Origins of Theatre in Ancient Greece and Beyond: From Ritual to Drama.
Edited by Eric Csapo and Margaret Miller. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press,
2007.
Snell, Bruno, Richard Kannicht, and Stefan Radt, eds. Tragicorum Graecorum Frag-
menta. Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 1971.
Sommerstein, Alan H. Greek Drama and Dramatists. London: Routledge, 2002.
Sommerstein, Alan H., Stephen Halliwell, Jeffrey Henderson, and Bernhard Zimmer-
mann, eds. Tragedy, Comedy and the Polis: Papers from the Greek Drama Confer-
ence. Nottingham, 18–20 July 1990. Bari, Italy: Levante Editori, 1993.
Stanford, William B. Greek Tragedy and the Emotions: An Introductory Study. London:
Routledge & Kegan Paul, 1983.
Strugnell, John. “Notes on the Text and Metre of Ezekiel the Tragedian’s Exagoge.” HTR
60 (1967): 449–457.
Sutton, Dana F. Seneca on the Stage. Mnemosyne Supplementum 96. Leiden: Brill, 1986.
Taplin, Oliver. “Aeschylean Silences and Silences in Aeschylus.” HSCP 76 (1972): 57–
97.
 Greek Tragedy 343

–. Comic Angels and Other Approaches to Greek Drama through Vase-Paintings. Ox-
ford: Clarendon Press, 1993.
–. Greek Tragedy in Action. Berkeley: University of California Press, 1978.
–. Pots & Plays: Interactions between Tragedy and Greek Vase-Painting of the Fourth-
Century B.C. Los Angeles: Getty Publications, 2007.
–. The Stagecraft of Aeschylus: The Dramatic Use of Exits and Entrances in Greek
Tragedy. London: Clarendon Press, 1977.
Taplin, Oliver, and Rosie Wyles, eds. The Pronomos Vase and Its Context. Oxford:
Oxford University Press, 2010.
Tarrant, Richard J. Seneca: Agamemnon. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1976.
–. “Senecan Drama and Its Antecedents.” HSCP 82 (1978): 213–263.
–. Seneca’s Thyestes. Atlanta: Scholars Press, 1985.
Taylor, Lily Ross. “The Opportunities for Dramatic Performances in the Time of Plautus
and Terence.” TAPA 68 (1937): 284–304.
Thuillier, Jean-Paul. “Sur les origines étrusques du théâtre romain.” Pages 201–208 in
Spectacula II: Le théâtre antique et ses spectacles. Actes du colloque tenu au Musée
Archéologique Henri Prades de Lattes les 27, 28, 29 et 30 avril 1989. Edited by
Christian Landes and Véronique Kramérovskis. Paris: Peter Lattes, 1992.
Trendall, Arthur D., and Thomas B. L. Webster. Illustrations of Greek Drama. London:
Phaidon, 1971.
Vellacott, Philip. Ironic Drama: A Study of Euripides’ Method and Meaning. Cambridge:
Cambridge University Press, 1975.
Vernant, Jean-Pierre. “The God of Tragic Fiction.” Pages 181–188 in Myth and Tragedy
in Ancient Greece. Edited by Jean-Pierre Vernant and Pierre Vidal-Naquet. Translated
by Janet Lloyd. New York: Zone Press, 1988.
Vernant, Jean-Pierre, and Pierre Vidal-Naquet, eds. Myth and Tragedy in Ancient Greece.
Translated by Janet Lloyd. New York: Zone Press, 1988.
Vickers, Brian. Towards Greek Tragedy: Drama, Myth, Society. London: Longmans,
1973.
Volk, Katharina. “Putting Andromacha on Stage: A Performer’s Perspective.” Pages
197–208 in Seneca in Performance. Edited by George W. M. Harrison. London:
Duckworth, 2000.
Walcot, Peter. Greek Drama in Its Theatrical and Social Context. Cardiff: University of
Wales Press, 1976.
Walton, J. Michael. Greek Theatre Practice. London: Methuen, 1980.
–. The Greek Sense of Theatre. London: Methuen, 1984.
Webster, Thomas B. L. “Fourth-Century Tragedy and the Poetics.” Hermes 82 (1954):
294–308.
–. “South Italian Vases and Attic Drama.” CQ 42 (1948): 15–27.
–. Studies in Later Greek Comedy. 2 nd ed. New York: Barnes & Noble, 1970.
Wiles, David. Greek Theatre Performance: An Introduction. Cambridge: Cambridge
University Press, 2000.
–. Tragedy in Athens: Performance Space and Theatrical Meaning. Cambridge: Cam-
bridge University Press, 1997.
Wilson, Emily. Seneca: Six Tragedies. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2010.
Wilson, Peter J. “Leading the Tragic Khoros: Tragic Prestige in the Democratic City.”
Pages 81–108 in Greek Tragedy and the Historian. Edited by Christopher Pelling.
Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1997.
Wilson, Peter J., ed. The Greek Theatre and Festivals. Oxford: Oxford University Press,
2007.
344 Bibliography

–. The Institution of the Khoregia: The Chorus, the City, and the Stage. Cambridge:
Cambridge University Press, 2000.
Winkler, John J. “The Ephebes’ Song: Tragôidia and Polis.” Representations 11 (1985):
26–62.
Winkler, John J., and Froma I. Zeitlin, eds. Nothing to Do with Dionysos? Athenian
Drama in Its Social Context. Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1990.
Winnington-Ingram, Reginald P. “Clytemnestra and the Vote of Athena.” JHS 88 (1949):
130–147.
Xanthakis-Karamanos, Georgia. Studies in Fourth-Century Tragedy. ΑΘΗΝΑΙ: ΑΚΑ∆Η-
ΜΙΑ ΑΘΗΝΩΝ: 1980.
Zeitlin, Froma. “Playing the Other: Theatre, Theatricality, and the Feminine in Greek
Drama.” Pages 63–96 in Nothing to Do with Dionysos? Athenian Drama in Its Social
Context. Edited by John J. Winkler and Froma I. Zeitlin. Princeton: Princeton Univer-
sity Press, 1990.
Zelenak, Michael X. Gender and Politics in Greek Tragedy. New York: Peter Lang,
1998.
Zimmermann, Bernhard. Greek Tragedy: An Introduction. Translated by Thomas Marier.
Baltimore: Johns Hopkins University Press, 1991.
Zwierlein, Otto. Die Rezitationsdramen Senecas. Meisenheim am Glan: Hain, 1966.

Miscellaneous

Bassett, Samuel E. The Poetry of Homer. Berkeley: University of California Press, 1938.
Berger, Klaus. “Hellenistische Gattungen im Neuen Testament.” ANRW II 25,2 (1984):
1031–1432.
Betz, Hans Dieter. Galatians: A Critical & Historical Commentary on the Bible. Her-
meneia. Philadelphia: Fortress Press, 1989.
Bickerman, Elias. From Ezra to the Last of the Maccabees. New York: Schocken Books,
1972.
Bowen, Clayton R. “The Fourth Gospel as Dramatic Material.” JBL 49 (1930): 292–305.
Brandt, Jo-Ann A. Dialogue and Drama: Elements of Greek Tragedy in the Fourth
Gospel. Peabody, Mass.: Hendrickson, 2004.
Brettler, Marc Zvi. God Is King: Understanding an Israelite Metaphor. JSOTSup 76.
Sheffield: Sheffield Academic Press, 1989.
Burkert, Walter. Greek Religion. Cambridge, Mass.: Harvard University Press, 1985.
–. “Στοιχεῖον: Eine semasiologische Studie.” Phil 103 (1959): 167–197.
Carlson, Marvin. Theories of the Theatre. Ithaca, N.Y.: Cornell University Press, 1993.
Chamoux, François. Cyrène sous la monarchie des Battiades. Paris: de Boccard, 1953.
Champlin, Edward. Nero. Cambridge: Belknap Press of Harvard University, 2005.
Connick, C. Milo. “The Dramatic Character of the Fourth Gospel.” JBL 67 (1948): 159–
169.
Cousland, J. Robert C. “The Choral Crowds in the Tragedy according to St. Matthew.”
Pages 255–274 in Ancient Fiction: The Matrix of Early Christian and Jewish
Narrative. Edited by Jo-Ann Brandt, Charles W. Hedrick, and Chris Shea; Atlanta:
SBL, 2005.
Davies, John K. Democracy and Classical Greece. London: Fontana, 1978.
Deissmann, Adolf. Light from the Ancient East. Grand Rapids, Mich.: Baker Book
House, 1965.
 Miscellaneous 345

Dittenberger, Wilhelm, ed. Sylloge Inscriptionum Graecarum. 3 rd ed. 4 vols. Chicago:

University of Chicago Press, 1974.
Else, Gerald F. Aristotle’s Poetics: The Argument. Ann Arbor: University of Michigan
Press, 1967.
Fontenrose, Joseph. Python: A Study in Delphic Myth. Berkeley: University of California
Press, 1959.
Goldberg, Arnold. “Service of the Heart: Liturgical Aspects of Synagogue Worship.”
Pages 195–211 in Standing before God: Studies on Prayer in Scripture and in Tradi-
tion. Edited by Asher Finkel and Lawrence Frizzell. New York: Ktav Publishing
House, 1981.
Gordon, Jill. Turning toward Philosophy: Literary Device and Dramatic Structure in
Plato’s Dialogues. University Park, Pa: Penn State Press, 1999.
Grözinger, Karl Erich. “Singen und ekstatische Sprache in der frühen jüdischen Mystik.”
JSJ 11 (1980): 66–77.
Habicht, Christian. Gottmenschentum und griechische Städte. München: Beck, 1970.
Hays, Richard B. The Faith of Jesus Christ. Grand Rapids, Mich.: Eerdmans, 1983.
Hengel, Martin. Judentum und Hellenismus. WUNT 10. Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 1973.
Hitchcock, F. R. Montgomery. “Is the Fourth Gospel Drama?” Pages 15–24 in Gospel of
John as Literature: An Anthology of Twentieth-Century Perspectives. Edited by Mark
W. G. Stibbe. Translated by David E. Orton. Leiden: Brill, 1993.
Holladay, Carl. Fragments from Hellenistic Jewish Authors. Vol. 2: Poets. Atlanta:
Scholars Press, 1989.
Hruby, Kurt. “Geschichtlicher Überblick über die Anfänge der synagogalen Liturgie und
ihre Enhtwicklung.” Jud 19 (1963): 1–25.
Janko, Richard. Aristotle: Poetics. Indianapolis: Hackett, 1987.
Kallen, Horace M. The Book of Job as a Greek Tragedy. New York: Hill & Wang, 1959.
Kalugila, Leonidas. The Wise King: Studies in Royal Wisdom as Divine Revelation in the
Old Testament and Its Environment. Lund: C. W. K. Gleerup, 1980.
Laronde, André. Cyrène et la Libye hellénistique. Libykai Historiai. Paris: Editions du
Centre National de la Recherche Scientifique, 1987.
Lesky, Albin. Geschichte der griechischen Literatur. Bern: Francke, 1963.
Lévêque, Pierre. Agathon. Paris: “Les Belles Lettres,” 1955.
Maier, Johann. “Hekhalot Rabbati 27,2–5.” Jud 22 (1966): 209–217.
–. “Zu Kult und Liturgie der Qumrangemeinde.” RevQ 14 [56] (1990): 543–586.
Marshall, I. Howard. “The Development of the Concept of Redemption in the New Testa-
ment.” Pages 154–160 in Reconciliation and Hope. Edited by Robert J. Banks. Grand
Rapids, Mich.: Eerdmans, 1974.
Martin, Dale. Slavery as Salvation. New Haven: Yale University Press, 1990.
Martyn, J. Louis. Galatians. AB 33A. New York: Doubleday, 1997.
Miller, Andrew W., ed. Greek Lyric: An Anthology in Translation. Indianapolis: Hackett,
1996.
Milne, Herbert J. M. Catalogue of Literary Papyri in the British Museum. London:
British Museum, 1927.
Mlakuzhyil, George, S.J. The Christocentric Literary Structure of the Fourth Gospel.
Roma: Editrice Pontifico Instituto Biblico, 1987.
Moule, Charles F. D. Worship in the New Testament. Louisville: John Knox Press, 1961.
Müller, Karl O. History of the Literature of Greece. Translated from German by Sir
George Cornwell Lewis. 2 nd ed. London: Baldwin and Cradock: Paternoster-Row,
1847.
Neyrey, Jerome. 2 Peter, Jude. AB 37C. New York: Doubleday, 1993.
346 Bibliography

Oesterley, William O. E. The Jewish Background of the Christian Liturgy. Gloucester,

Mass.: Peter Smith, 1965.
Parsenios, George L. Rhetoric and Drama in the Johannine Lawsuit Motif. WUNT 258.
Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2010.
Peterson, Erik. ΕΙΣ ΘΕΟΣ: Epigraphische, formgeschichtliche und religionsgeschicht-
liche Untersuchungen. FRLANT 41. Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 1926.
Petuchowski, Jakob J. “The Liturgy of the Synagogue: History, Structure, and Contents.”
Pages 1–50 in Approaches to Ancient Judaism IV. Edited by William Scott Green.
Missoula, Mont.: SBL Press, 1983.
–. “Die Geschichte des synagogalen Gottesdienstes.” Pages 407–463 in Das Judentum.
Edited by Günter Mayer. Die Religionen der Menschheit 27. Stuttgart: Kohlhammer,
1994.
Pfeiffer, Rudolf. History of Classical Scholarship, from the Beginnings to the End of the
Hellenistic Age. Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1968.
Rabinowitz, Peter J. “Other Reader-Oriented Theories.” Pages 375–403 in From Formal-
ism to Poststructuralism. Edited by Raman Selden. Vol. 8 of The Cambridge History
of Literary Criticism. Edited by Hugh Barr Nisbet and Claude Rawson. Cambridge:
Cambridge University Press, 1995.
Sigal, Phillip. “Early Christian and Rabbinic Liturgical Affinities: Exploring Liturgical
Acculturation.” NTS 30 (1984): 63–90.
Smith, Stephen H. “A Divine Tragedy: Mark.” NovT 37 (1995): 209–231.
Spengel, Leonhard (ed.). Rhetores Graeci. 4 vols. Leipzig: Teubner, 1853–1856.
Srawley, James H. The Early History of the Liturgy. Cambridge: Cambridge University
Press, 1913.
Stauffer, Ethelbert. New Testament Theology. Translated by John Marsh. London: SCM
Press, 1955.
Stoicorum Veterum Fragmenta: Vol. 3: Chrysippi fragmenta moralia. Fragmenta Suc-
cessorum Chrysippi. Edited by Hans von Arnim. Berlin/New York: Walter de
Gruyter, 2005.
Strack, Hermann Leberecht, and Paul Billerbeck. Kommentar zum Neuen Testament aus
Talmud und Midrasch. Vol. 3. München: C. H. Beck, 1928.
Strugnell, John. “The Angelic Liturgy at Qumran – 4Q Serek Sîrôt ‘Ôlat Haššabbāt.” VT
7 (1959): 318–345.
Trypanis, Constantine A. The Homeric Epics. Warminster: Aris & Phillips, 1977.
Vermes, Geza. The Dead Sea Scrolls in English. 3 rd ed. New York: Penguin, 1987.
Walker, Norman. “The Origin of the ‘Thrice-Holy’.” NTS 5 (1959): 132–133.
Warren-Rothlin, Andy L. “A Trisagion Inserted in the 4QSam(a) Version of the Song of
Hannah, 1 Sam 2,1–10.” JJS 45 (1994): 278–285.
Werner, Eric. “The Doxology in Synagogue and Early Church: A Liturgico-Musical
Study.” HUCA 19 (1945): 275–351.
Whidbee, William. “The Comedy of Job.” Pages 217–250 in On Humor and the Comic in
the Hebrew Bible. Edited by Yehud T. Radday and Athalya Brenner. Sheffield: Al-
mond Press, 1990.
Whitehead, David. The Demes of Attica. Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1986.
Williams, Gordon. Change and Decline: Roman Literature in the Early Empire.
Berkeley: University of California Press, 1978.
Wolfers, David. “Job: A Universal Drama.” Jewish Bible Quarterly 21.2 (Apr., 1993):
80–89.
Wright, Nicholas T. The Climax of the Covenant. Philadelphia: Fortress Press, 1992.
…
…
…
…
…
Index of Ancient Sources

Hebrew Bible and Septuagint

Genesis 4:1 92
2 101 7:18 88
3:1–7 75 10:21 88
9:5–6 105 19:10 96
9:6 96 31:16 104
19:11 70 32 85
37:9 74 32:1–43 28, 85, 87
49:9 35 32:4 86, 91, 95
32:11 74
Exodus 32:39 39
3:14 (LXX) 38 32:43 105
14:28 (LXX) 40 33:2 36
15:1–18 28, 48, 63, 85 33:26–29 28
15:11 86, 89
15:12 74, 101 Joshua
15:18 64 2:19 105
15:21 28
16 74 Judges
19:4 74 2:17 104
19:6 48 5:3–5 28
19:16–20 32 8:27 104
32 68
34:16 104 1 Samuel
2:10 50
Leviticus 12:12 63
17:7 104 26:15 89
20:5 104
2 Samuel
Numbers 1:10 41
11:1 68 1:16 105
13:25–14:38 68 2:1–10 28
14:33 104 5:10 65
17:6–15 68 7:13–16 64
23:24 96 12:30 41
35:33 105 22:11 33
22:51 64
Deuteronomy 23:17 96
1:17 70 24:1 67
1:34–36 68
348 Index of Ancient Sources

1 Kings 40:10 40
2:33, 37 105 42:3 (LXX) 86, 88
2:45 64
3:12, 13 50 Psalms
3:28 92 2:1–3, 4–11 67
5:9, 21, 26 50 2:1 89
19:10 80 2:7 73
22:19 79 3:7, 9 (LXX) 56
22:31 70 6:3 89
8:4 89
2 Kings 8:6 40
9:6 65 9:12 105
9:7 105 9:37 64
9:13 65 10:13 89
9:22 104 11:2 (LXX) 91
19:15, 19 91 11:3 89
23:2 70 11:6 (LXX) 84
25:26 70 13:2 89
14:4 89
1 Chronicles 15:1 89
5:25 104 17:26 (LXX) 91
11:19 96 18:1 (LXX) 109
12:14 70 18:5–18 75
16:34 (LXX) 107 18:10 33
16:36 52, 106 22:1 89
20:2 41 28:1 40
21:1 75, 79 28:1–11 (LXX) 109
22:10 64 31:6 (LXX) 91
25:8 70 33:2 (LXX) 107
26:13 70 35:10 89
28:4 64 41:13 52
46:3–4 75
2 Chronicles 46:6 67
18:30 70 46:9 (LXX) 65, 108
21:11, 13 104 47:8 89
32:33 40 47:8 (LXX) 65, 108
34:30 70 49:5 (LXX) 91
65:7 67
Nehemiah 68:17 36
5:13 106 71:18 (LXX) 91
8:6 52 72:14 105
9:6 91 72:19 52
74:9 (LXX) 84
Job 78:1 (LXX) 91
1:6–12 75, 79 80:1 33
2:1–7 79 82:1 79
3:19 70 82:19 (LXX) 91
16:9 68 85:9 (LXX) 92
19:11 68 85:10 (LXX) 91
25:2–3 36 88 67–68
 Index of Ancient Sources 349

89:5–7 79 6:8, 9–13 45

89:6, 8 89 8:16 44
89:52 52 11:1 35
92:1 (LXX) 65, 108 11:4 100
92:5–15 87 11:10 35
92:5 86 12:4 107
95:1 (LXX) 109 17:5 85
95:7 40 18:4–5 85
95:10 (LXX) 65, 108 24:13 85
96 81 24:21–23 63
96:1 65 26:13 91
96:1 (LXX) 108–109 26:17 74
96:10 89 29:11 44
96:11 81 33:22 63
98:1 (LXX) 65, 108 34:8–10 105
99:1 33 37:16 33, 91
105:1 (LXX) 107 37:20 91
106:1 (LXX) 107 40–55 14
106:48 52, 106 40:25 89
107:1 (LXX) 107 42:12 109
110:2 (LXX) 88 43:1–3 56
111:1–10 87 44:23 81
111:2 86 45:17 56
112:3 50 46:5 89
113:5 89 49:8 56
113:9 (LXX) 109 49:13 81
116:1 (LXX) 107 49:18 110
117:24 (LXX) 109 49:26 96
131:9 (LXX) 91 54:1–6 110
138:14 (LXX) 88 57:7–13 104
139:13 87 60:16 56
139:14 86 61:1–4 109
144 (LXX) 87 61:2, 5, 6–11 109
144:3–7 75 61:10 109–110
144:13–21 (LXX) 87 62:5 110
144:17 (LXX) 86–91 63:1–6 85
145:10 64 63:9 56
145:11 63 66:7–9 74
146:10 63–64 66:24 105
149:1 (LXX) 91
150:1 (LXX) 107 Jeremiah
1:6 (LXX) 38
Proverbs 2:2 110
30:8 50 2:23 104
3:1, 6 104
Isaiah 3:20 110
2:11, 17 91 4:4 105
6 6, 33, 304 4:10 38
6:2 33, 305 4:31 74
6:3 37 6:13 70
350 Index of Ancient Sources

7:6 96 3:13, 19 82
13:16 109 3:24–90 (LXX) 28
14:13 38 4:3, 34 64
17:27 105 6:26 64
23:5 35 7 75
23:6 56 7:7–8 75
23:18, 22 79 7:9–14 45
26:20 80 7:9–10 45
31:7 56 7:9 36
32:9 44 7:10 36, 106
32:15 (LXX) 84 7:14 64, 69
38:34 70 7:14a 45
39:17 38 7:18 48
46:10 96 7:24 75
46:27 56 7:27 48, 64
51:33 85 8 75
51:34 75 8:2–8, 20–21 35
9:4 (Theod.) 88
Lamentations 10:13 78
2:2 68 10:20 94
5:19 64 10:21 78
11:30 82
Ezekiel 11:35, 40 54
1–10 5 12:1 78
1 33, 304 12:4 44
1:5–14 33 12:10 54
1:5 33
1:13 32 Hosea
1:19–21 33 2:13 104
1:27 32 2:14–20 110
2:10 44 4:12–14 104
7:1–27 68 6:11 85
7:15, 19 68
16 74 Joel
16:8–14 110 2:23 (LXX) 109
16:15, 19 104 3:13 (LXX) 85
20:48 105 4:13–14 85
23:5 104
29:3 74 Obadiah
32:2 74 8 63
33:4 105
38:22 84 Micah
39:17–21 96 4:6–8 63
40–48 5 4:7 64
43:7 64 4:10 74
47 101 4:12–13 85
7:18 89
Daniel
2:37 (LXX) 50–51 Habakkuk
2:44 64 3:15 75
 Index of Ancient Sources 351

Zephaniah 1:24–25 91
1–2 68 7:3 82
3:15 63 7:37 91
7:39 82
Zechariah
3:1–2 75, 79 Psalms of Solomon (Pss. Sol.)
3:8 35 2:30–37 28
6:12 35 8:20 96
9:9 56 10:5 95
12:7 56 10:8 57
14:9 64 12:6 57
17:2 63
Baruch 17:23–44 100
2:17 92
Sirach (Sir)
1 Esdras (1 Esdr) 39:12–35 28
8:25 91 47:22 35

Judith (Jdt) Tobit (Tob)

8:25 64 12:22 86–88
13:4, 13 70 13:1–17 109
16:1–17 28 13:9, 15 109
13:18 101
1 Maccabees (1 Macc)
5:45 70 Wisdom
14:21 40 3:8 64
6:7 70
2 Maccabees (2 Macc)
1:11 64

Old Testament Apocrypha and Pseudepigrapha

Apocalypse of Abraham (Apoc. Ab.) 67:7 63, 84, 99

10:9 33 70:20 85

Apocalypse of Moses (Apoc. Mos.) 3 Baruch (3 Bar.)

43:4 102 11:4–8 78

Apocalypse of Zephaniah (Apoc. Zeph.) 1 Enoch (1 En.)

4:1 36 5:1 40
8:1 36 9:1 78, 96
14 33
Aristeas, Letter of (Ep. Arist.) 14:22 36
155 88 20:5 78
39:12–13 37
2 Baruch (2 Bar.) 40:1 36
10:2 84 40:7 79
11:1 63, 84, 99 55:5–6 67
48:10 36 60:1–6 33
51:11 33 60:1 36
352 Index of Ancient Sources

61:1–4 109 7:4 81

61:2, 5, 6–11 109 8:2 82
61:10 94, 109 9:6 81
69:22 94 9:10 82
71 33 9:30 81
71:8 36, 305 11:20 81
75:3 94 16:14 81
85–90 35 17:15 81
89:42 35
99:1 40 Psalms
99:4 67 154 28

2 Enoch (2 En.) Sibylline Oracles (Sib. Or.)

4–6 94 3.46 63
19:1–4 94 3.311, 320 96
20–21 33 3.396–400 75
21:1 37 3.660–668 67
3.767 63
3 Enoch (3 En.) 4.137–139 94
1:13 6 5.143, 159 63, 84, 99

4 Ezra Testament of Abraham (T. Abr.)

3:1–2, 28–31 84 1:4, 6 78
4:28–32 85 4:11 85
8:7 91 8:9–10 85
12 35 10:1 78
12:31–32 35 15:4 64
13:30–34, 35–39 67 20:10 78
16:44, 46 84
Testament of Job (T. Job)
Greek Apocalypse of Ezra (Gk. Apoc. Ezra) 8:1–3 79
4:24 78 16:2–4 79
20:1–3 79
Joseph and Aseneth (Jos. Asen.)
19:5, 8 64
Testaments of the Twelve Patriarchs
Jubilees (Jub.) Testament of Asher (T. Ash.)
1:20 79 6:4 75
2:2 94 Testament of Daniel (T. Dan)
17:15–16 79 3:6 75
23:23–25, 26–31 67 5:5–6 75
48:15–18 79 5:13 48
6:1 75
3 Maccabees (3 Macc) Testament of Gad (T. Gad)
3:1 82 4:7 75
4:12–13 82 Testament of Joseph (T. Jos.)
5:1 82 19:8 35
7:13 101 Testament of Judah (T. Jud.)
24:4–6 35
4 Maccabees (4 Macc) 24:5 35
6:10 81
 Index of Ancient Sources 353

Testament of Levi (T. Levi) Testament of Zebulun (T. Zeb.)

16:3 96 2:2 96

New Testament

Q 13:10 66
23:30 48 13:19, 24 54
13:26–27 85
Matthew 14:12 46
1:1, 6 35 14:63 80
2:1–15 73–74
2:11 41 Luke
3:7 67 1:6 92
3:11 78 1:32 35
4:8 60 1:33 64
4:9 41 1:69 35
4:10 60 2:4 35
8:16 77 3:18 67
9:15 110 3:31 35
9:27 35 5:35 110
10:10 97 7:5 66
12:23 35 10:7 97
12:28, 29, 44 77 11:20 77
13:24–30, 36–43 85 11:51 97
15:22 35 12:48 97
18:18 105 18:11 64
20:30 35 18:38–39 35
21:9, 15 35 21:23 67–68
23:26 97 21:24 66
24:9, 14 66 22:7 46
24:21, 29 54 23:2 66
24:30–31 85 23:15 97
25:1–13 110 23:40 90
25:32 66 23:41 97
25:41 105 24:47 66
26:65 80
27:25 105 John
28:19 66 1:29, 36 34–35
2:15 77
Mark 3:29 110
1:34, 43 77 3:36 67–68
2:7 91 5:30 88
2:19–20 110 6:37 77
3:15, 22 77 7:24 88
9:38 77 8:10 79
9:43, 48 105 8:16 88
10:47–48 35 11:41 64
11:17 66 11:48–52 66
12:35 35 18:35 66
354 Index of Ancient Sources

Acts 2 Corinthians
2:30–32 35 1:20 52, 97, 106
5:33 82 11:2 110
7:54 82
8:10 70 Galatians
10:22 66 1:5 52
10:25 41 3:8 66
13:16 70 3:13 46–48
13:22–23 35 4:5 46–48
13:43, 50 70
23:29 97 Ephesians
23:30, 35 79 1:7 54
24:2, 10, 17 66 2:13 54
25:11 97 3:21 52
25:16, 18 79 5:22–23 110
25:25 97 6:1 88
26:4 66
26:22 70 Philippians
26:31 97 1:3–11 64
28:19 66 1:7 88
2:5–11 29
Romans 4:8 88
1:3 35 4:20 52
1:8–17 64
1:18 67–68 Colossians
1:25 52 1:3–8 64
1:32 92, 97 1:15–20 29
2:5 67 4:1 88
2:26 92
5:16 92 1 Thessalonians
5:17 48 1:2 64
7:12 88
8:4 92 2 Thessalonians
9:5 52 1:3 41
10:9, 13 56 1:5, 6 88
11:11, 26 56
11:36 52 1 Timothy
16:27 52, 91 1:17 40, 52, 91
5:18 97
1 Corinthians 6:1 97
1:4–9 64 6:15–16 91
3:15 56 6:16 52
5:5 56
5:7 34, 35, 46 2 Timothy
6:2 48 2:8 35
6:20 46–47 4:18 52
7:23 46–47
10:16 54 Philemon
14:16 52 4 64
16:4 41
 Index of Ancient Sources 355

Hebrews 2:10 69, 106

1:8 64 2:11 69
2:7, 9 40 2:13–17 71, 104
3:3 40 2:13 71, 94
8:11 70 2:14–16 66
9:14 54 2:14 69
13:21 52 2:16 39, 69
2:18–25 71, 104
1 Peter 2:20–23 66
1:2 54 2:20 69, 104, 107
1:18–19 46 2:23, 25, 26–27 69
1:19 54 2:26 66
2:1–10 46 3:3 69
2:9 66 3:4 97
4:11; 5:11 52 3:5 44, 69
5:13 63, 99 3:9 66
3:10 106
2 Peter 3:11, 12, 15–16, 19 69
1:13 88 3:21 34, 35
1:17 40 4:1–11 14
2:1 46 4:2 9, 32, 37
4:3 32, 302
1 John 4:4 8, 33, 302
1:7 54 4:5–6 85
3:12 88 4:5 32, 85
4:6–8 33
Jude 4:6 302, 304
9 78 4:8–11 5, 37–44, 90, 307
14 36 4:8 6, 9–11, 30, 33, 61,
25 52, 91 63, 65, 89, 97, 106,
303, 307
Revelation 4:9–11 30
1:1–8 37 4:9–10 34, 39, 302, 315
1:1 74, 104, 107 4:9 51, 102
1:2 74 4:10 8, 10, 34, 41
1:5–6 11, 30 4:11 11, 12, 30, 32, 34, 41,
1:5 10, 48, 50, 74, 79 42, 45, 46, 61, 78–79,
1:6 52, 58 106, 307, 310–311
1:7 52, 97, 106 5:1–14 14
1:8 10, 30, 61 5:1–5 35
1:9–20 37 5:1 44
1:9 80 5:2 44, 45
1:10 6 5:3–4 44
2:1–3:22 37, 111 5:5 34, 35, 44
2:2–3 106 5:6–7 44
2:2 66 5:6 4, 9, 34, 35, 44, 46
2:3 69 5:7 34, 44
2:5 39, 69 5:8–10 303
2:7 69 5:8 4, 8, 31, 34, 45, 58,
2:9 66 70, 302, 309
356 Index of Ancient Sources

5:9–6:17 11 7:11–12 34, 53, 106, 303

5:9–14 11–12, 31, 33–34, 44– 7:11 8, 32, 36, 101, 302,
53, 86, 90, 106, 307 307
5:9–11 4 7:12 6, 11–12, 30, 51–52,
5:9–10 5, 30, 78, 111, 307, 58, 102
310–311, 315 7:13–17 34, 58, 313
5:9 12, 31, 34, 37, 39, 7:13–14 71, 106, 302–303
46–47, 54, 57, 59, 66, 7:14–17 53
79–80, 86–87 7:14 54, 80, 101
5:10 11 7:15–17 31
5:10a 46–47 7:15 36
5:10b 48 7:17 34, 35
5:11–13 307 8:1–11:18 14
5:11–12 303–304 8:1–9:21 94
5:11 8, 35, 39, 302, 304 8:1–5 32, 35, 53
5:12–13 5, 9, 11 8:1, 2–5 59
5:12 12, 31, 36, 46, 58 8:3–4 70
5:12b 30 8:6–9:21 32, 59, 61, 87
5:13–14 13, 101 8:13 82
5:13 8, 9, 10, 11, 303–304 9:4 62, 104
5:13a 51 9:13 97
5:13b 30 9:20–21 60
5:14 6, 34, 97, 106, 302– 10:1–12:18 306
303 10:1–11 60, 306
6:1–17 35, 53, 61, 87, 94, 306 10:7 69
6:1–7 14, 32 11:1–14 32, 60, 306
6:1–2 44 11:2–3 82
6:2 44 11:2 66, 106
6:9–11 55, 60, 66, 71, 84, 87, 11:3–10 66
97, 106, 110 11:4, 8 61
6:9 46, 55, 80 11:7–10 71
6:10 95–97, 104–105, 110 11:9–11 106
6:11 55 11:9 66
6:12–17 53 11:10 60, 69
6:15–16 61 11:11–13 87
7:1–17 53 11:11 79
7:1–8 61, 83, 87, 90 11:12 62
7:1–3 53 11:13 61, 79
7:1 94 11:15–19 32, 59–72, 89, 94,
7:3 104, 107 306–307
7:4–8 53 11:15 9, 11, 31–34, 50, 74,
7:9–17 55, 61, 77, 84, 87, 106, 303
305 11:15b 30
7:9–10 303, 307 11:16–18 106
7:9 8, 32, 53, 58, 66, 77, 11:16 8–9, 32, 34, 302
110, 304 11:17–18 30, 106, 312
7:10–13 30 11:17 6, 12, 61, 64, 79, 89,
7:10–12 13, 89 97, 108
7:10 9–12, 30–31, 37, 53, 11:18 10–11, 95, 103, 107
57–58, 102 11:19–19:8 14
 Index of Ancient Sources 357

11:19 36 13:14–15 11
12:1–18 306 13:14 12, 83, 92
12:1–9 72, 315 13:15 12, 71
12:1–6 99 13:16–17 83, 90
12:1–2 72 13:16 70, 84
12:3–9 61 13:17 60, 63, 84
12:3, 4 72 14:1–7 84
12:5–6 72, 77 14:1–5 32, 83, 87, 90, 111
12:5 66, 92 14:1 83, 104
12:7–9 72, 77, 80 14:3 46
12:8 77 14:6–11 87
12:9 12, 61, 100 14:6 66
12:10–12 31, 33–34, 72–83, 89, 14:7 84, 98
303, 307, 312, 318 14:8–12 104
12:10 9–11, 32, 66, 74–75, 14:8–11 71
79, 101–102, 106, 315 14:8 66, 84, 92, 98, 104
12:10b–12 30 14:9–11 69
12:11–12 315 14:10 67, 84
12:11 11, 34, 85 14:11 105
12:12 80, 312 14:12 70, 111
12:13–17 71–72, 74, 83 14:13 97
12:13 66, 72, 74 14:14–20 87
12:14–15 72 14:15–16, 17–20 85
12:14, 15–16 74 14:18 94
12:15 74–75 14:19 67, 84
12:16 72, 74 15:1–16:21 32, 67
12:17 72, 76, 80 15:1 67, 94
13:1–10 11, 104 15:2–4 303, 307
13:1–8 11, 62, 83 15:2–3 32
13:2 61, 82, 92 15:2 8, 31, 85, 304, 309
13:3–4 66 15:3–4 30, 66, 83–93, 106,
13:4–8 71 312
13:4 12, 30, 61, 73, 75–76, 15:3 9, 13, 31, 37, 61, 65,
83, 90, 92 85–86, 95, 97
13:5–7 66 15:3b–4 30
13:5–6 83 15:4 10–11, 61, 79, 86
13:5 82, 106 15:5–8 36
13:6–7 60 15:6 94
13:6 12 15:7 67, 84
13:7–8 62 15:8 94
13:7 12, 66, 70–71, 83, 91 15:11 66
13:8 44, 46, 60, 63, 66, 83, 16:1–21 71, 88, 311
92 16:1 36, 67, 84, 93
13:9–10 110 16:2 12, 60, 63, 94
13:10 70, 83 16:3 94–96
13:11–18 11–12, 60, 83, 100, 16:4 66, 93–96
104 16:5–7 10, 11, 30, 32, 93, 307
13:11–12 73 16:5–6 79, 305
13:12–15 83 16:5 8, 91, 98, 315
13:12 66, 82, 92 16:6 69–70, 310–311
358 Index of Ancient Sources

16:7 9, 32, 52, 58, 61, 65, 18:21–23 100

89, 95, 103, 106, 305 18:21 84, 94
16:8–21 99 18:23 66, 92, 100
16:8, 10, 12 94 18:24 46, 69–70
16:14 66 19:1–22:5 100
16:17 37 19:1–10 84, 100
16:19 66, 84 19:1–8 31, 33, 99–112, 307,
17:1–18:24 72, 99, 312 318
17:1–18 71, 88 19:1–6 6
17:1–6 99 19:1–3 303
17:1 94, 100 19:1 8, 10–11, 32, 51, 63,
17:2–18 104 77, 101
17:2 60, 63, 71, 104 19:1b–2 30
17:3 73 19:2 11, 71, 79, 95, 98,
17:4 66, 71 105, 107, 310–311
17:5 63, 94, 104 19:3 8, 30
17:6 61, 70–71, 80, 84, 96 19:4 6, 32, 34, 302–303
17:8 44, 85, 106 19:5 30, 34, 37, 70
17:9–12 75 19:6–8 30–31, 303
17:9–10 62 19:6–7 79
17:9 99 19:6 8–9, 61, 64–65, 89
17:14 50, 60–61, 71 19:7 11
17:15 66 19:8 70, 92, 110
17:16 94 19:9–22:7 99
17:18 94, 99 19:9 110
18:1–24 71, 88, 108, 111, 299, 19:11–22:7 111
311 19:11–21 85, 108
18:1–8 100 19:11–19 100
18:2 84, 309 19:11 32, 95, 100
18:3–24 104 19:13 80
18:3–19 63 19:14–21 304
18:3–4 71 19:14 110
18:3 60, 66, 92, 99, 104 19:15 66–67, 84
18:4 309 19:16 61
18:7 99 19:17–21 12, 72, 85, 88, 91,
18:8 61, 95, 105 104, 312
18:9–10 100 19:18 70–71, 107, 110
18:9 60, 63, 71, 99, 309 19:19–21 71
18:10 82, 84, 94–95, 98 19:19 66
18:11–19 60, 100 19:20 71, 84, 100, 105
18:11–16 100 19:21 100
18:11 309 20:1–3 72, 82, 88, 91, 100,
18:14 99 106, 108, 312
18:15 99, 309 20:2 100
18:16 82, 94, 99, 110 20:3 66, 78
18:17–20 100 20:4–6 72, 101, 109, 111, 312
18:18–19 94 20:4 69, 71, 74, 80
18:18 99, 104, 309 20:6 48, 74
18:19 82, 99 20:7–10 72, 78, 82, 88, 91,
18:20 69–70 100, 108, 312
 Index of Ancient Sources 359

20:8 66 21:24 66
20:9 66, 70 21:26 40, 66
20:10 69, 84, 105 21:27 44, 69
20:11–15 68, 72, 88, 101, 108, 22:1–5 72, 312
111 22:1 34, 35
20:12 70, 95, 107 22:2 66
20:14–15 69, 105 22:3–4 69
20:15 44, 69 22:3 104, 107
21:1–22:7 109 22:4 69
21:1–8 101 22:5 61
21:2 110 22:6–21 101
21:3 37 22:6 61, 69, 104, 107
21:3b–4 30 22:7 39
21:5–8 72, 312 22:9 69
21:7–8 111 22:12 39, 68
21:7 69 22:14–15 111
21:8 69, 84 22:14 69
21:9–27 101 22:16 35
21:9 110 22:17 110
21:13 106 22:20 39, 52, 61, 97, 106
21:22–27 72, 312 22:21 61, 70, 74
21:22 61, 65, 89, 97

New Testament Apocrypha and Pseudepigrapha

Acts of John Gospel of Thomas

94 52 104 110

Acts of Philip Martyrdom of Carpus (Mart. Carpus)

146 52 9 82

Acts of Thomas Martyrdom of Matthias (Mart. Matt.)

29 52 26:39 106
121 97
137 48 Martyrdom of Perpetua (Mart. Perpetua)
10:13–14 81
Apostolic Constitutions
7.26.2; 7.38.4 64 Martyrdom of Polycarp
12:2 82

Qumran

1QH 9:37; 14:8 64

1:8–13 94 15:28 89
2:20, 31 64 17:7 64
3:4–18 74
3:19, 37; 4:5; 5:5 64 1QM
7:6, 26, 34 64 1:11–12 54
360 Index of Ancient Sources

10:8–9 89 4QCommGen A
12:15 48 3–4 35
14:2–3; 15:1 54
4Q 403
1QS I 38–46
1:25; 3:23–24 89
7:28–29; 10:5–6 89 4QFlor 35

4Q285 4QpIsa
7:1–4 35 3:15–22 35
8–10 100
4Q381 89
4QShirShabb 33

Philo and Josephus

Josephus That the Worse Attacks the Better (Det.)

Jewish Antiquities (Ant.) 160 38
1.193 64
1.629 77 That God is Unchangeable (Deus)
6.344 80 110 38
8.350 38
11.5 89 Allegorical Interpretation (Leg. all.)
12.118 40 3.181 38
12.301 80
Life of Moses (Mos.)
13.198 80
1.75 38
Jewish War (J.W.)
On the Change of Names (Mut.)
4.28 77
11 38
5.408 97
7.71 42 On the Creation of the World (Opif.)
172 38
Philo
On Abraham (Abr.) On Dreams (Somn.)
121 38 1.231 38

Rabbinic Literature

Babylonian Talmud
Sanhedrin 38b 79 Midrash on Psalms (Midr. Ps.)
8.1.73 85
Midrash
Exodus Rabbah (Exod. Rab.) Targum
3:14 39 Targum Isaiah (Tg. Isa.)
30:18 79 11:1–6 100
Leviticus Rabbah (Lev. Rab.) 63:3–4 85
24:2 79
 Index of Ancient Sources 361

Apostolic Fathers and Early Christian Literature

Apostolic Tradition (Ethiopic version) 5.1.17 82

26 102
Hippolytus
Athanasius On Christ and Antichrist (Antichr.)
Life of Saint Anthony (Vita Ant.) 61 76
16 48
Ignatius
Augustine Epistle to the Smyrnaeans (Smyrn.)
Explanations of the Psalms 10:1 64
106 102
Jerome
1 Clement Homilies on the Psalms (In Ps.)
6:1 55 104 102
14:1 95
21:7; 23:1; 28:1 70 Justin Martyr
34:6 6, 36, 37 1 Apology (1 Apol)
45:6 70 65 7
45:8 40 65.3 52
61:1, 2 40 67 7

2 Clement Methodius
14:2 110 Symposium (Symp.)
8.5 76
Clement of Alexandria
Stromata (Strom.) Shepherd of Hermas
3.6 110 Visions (Vis.)
2.3.4; 4.1.1 54
Didache (Did.) 4.2.4, 5; 4.3.6 54
9:3 64
10:2–5 64 Tertullian
10:4 6 Against Marcion (Marc.)
10:6 52 3.13 63, 99
5.18 110
Eusebius
Orations (Or.)
Church History (Hist. eccl.)
27 102
2.15.2 63, 99

Greek and Latin Sources

Aelius Aristides On the False Embassy (Fals. leg.)

On Behalf of the Four 15–19 178
154 204 111 190

Aeschines Aeschylus
Against Ctesiphon (Ctes.) Agamemnon (Ag.)
76 190 40–67 235, 238
40ff., 55–59 238
362 Index of Ancient Sources

60–67 239 778–784, 785–791 235

67–71 239 1054–1075 216
83–103 229
104–159 235 Suppliants (Supp.)
140–159, 160–175 243 57–67 222, 236
176–183 243 524–599 222
176–181 243 625–709 222
176–177 243 825–871 202, 219
185–247 235 1018–1073 216, 222, 222
245 125 1025 22
367–402 238 1034–1073 202, 219
681–749 230
709 22 Alciphron
750–772 230, 238 2.3 187
750–762 238
773–781 230 Anacreontea (Anacreont.)
975–979 230 23.1 37
997 204
1001–1007 230 Aristophanes
1343–1371 199 Acharnians (Ach.)
1407–1577 239 140 162
1436, 1451–1461 239 241–279 172
1470, 1485–1486 239 280 211
501–508 174
Libation Bearers (Cho.) 864–866 145
23–41, 44–58 237
58–65, 66–74 237 Birds (Av.)
585–652 236 682–684 224
602–612, 613–622 236
623–630, 631–638 236 Clouds (Nub.)
983–984, 986–989 150
Eumenides (Eum.) 1351–1352 208
244ff. 211
868–887 202, 219 Frogs (Ran.)
1032–1047 222 89 162
247 113
Persians (Pers.) 336 113
931–1079 214 728–729 150
888 188
[Prometheus Bound] ([Prom.]) 895–897 208
88–127 257 1050–1051 174

Seven against Thebes (Sept.) Peace (Pax)

109–181 313 765–766 174
180–286 247 802–817 162
268 221 962–967 174
287 234
680 247 Women at the Thesmophoria (Thesm.)
720–791 235 168–170 162
742–749, 750–757 235 395 186
 Index of Ancient Sources 363

956, 968, 981, 983 113 14.628e–f 151, 200, 204

14.628e 151
Aristotle 14.630b 140
Constitution of the Athenians (Ath. pol.) 14.631 192
56 170
Augustus
Poetics (Poet.) Res Gestae Divi Augustae
1447a 133 10 7
1448a 221
1449a 154, 161, 256 Bacchylides
1449b 175 17.124 126
1449b24 132 18 127
1450a–b 162
1450a17 242 Callimachus
1450b16 213 Hymn to Artemis (Hymn Art.)
1452b17–27 209 13–17, 170, 237 136
1452b19 211
1456a 261 Hymn to Delos (Hymn Del.)
1456a25 268–269 310 139–140
1456a29–30 270
1462a16 213 Cicero
On Academic Skepticism (Acad.)
Politics (Pol.) 1.10 168
7.1336b 174 2.20, 86 277
8.1339b20 213
8.1340b16 213 Letters to Atticus (Att.)
8.1342b 147 16.13a1 157
8.1432 127
Letters to and from Brutus (Brut.)
Problems [Prob.] 72 166
11.22 199
19.6 132 On the Laws (Leg.)
19.22, 45 200 2.9, 15 278
20.10 178 2.38 182

Rhetoric (Rhet.) On the Orator (De or.)

1403b31–35 179 3.196 277
1413b12 180
On the Ends of Good and Evil (Fin.)
Athenaeus 1.2.4 167
The Learned Banqueters (Deipn.) 1.4–7 168
1.21e–22a 205
1.22a 175 Orator (Orat.)
11.3.504b 180 173, 184 277
12.512 192
12.536a 192 On the Best Style of Orators (Opt. gen.)
14.617b–e 145 18 168
14.628c–e 151
14.628c 142 Stoic Paradoxes (Parad.)
14.628d 207 26 277
364 Index of Ancient Sources

On the Responses of the Haruspices Dionysius of Halicarnassus

(Resp.) On Literary Composition (Comp.)
4.10.12 165 64 144

De senectute (Sen.) Donatus

50 166 Commentary on Terence (Com.)
6.1–2 168
Tusculan Disputations (Tusc.)
1.3 166 Epictetus
1.106–107 277 Diatribes (Diss.)
2.48–50 168 1.1.24 77
4.71 118 3.14.1 263

Demetrius Euanthius
On Style (Eloc.) Commentarium Terentii de fabula
193 180 4.1–3 168

Demosthenes Euripides
On the Crown (Cor.) Alcestis (Alc.)
21 178 568–606 223
129 172 1159–1163 214, 260

On the False Embassy (Fals. leg.) Andromache (Andr.)

12, 18, 94, 192, 315 178 103–116 257
1284–1288 214, 260
Against Midias (Mid.)
10 170 Bacchae (Bacch.)
60 200 64 224
120ff. 134
Orations 519–573 223
60.8 77 523 127
60.28 80 1388–1392 214, 260

Dio Cassius Electra (El.)

59.24.5 7 167–212 216
67.5.7 42 432–486 245
67.13.4 42 699–712, 718–726 259
727–736, 743–746 259
Dio Chrysostom 1357–1359 260
Orations (Or.)
45.1 42 Hecate (Hec.)
348 80
Diodorus Siculus
17.16.3 173 Helen (Hel.)
164–251 216
Diogenes Laertius 168–192 214
Lives 252–253 217
3.18 180 698–699 218
3.56 158 1301–1368 223, 259
1301–1313 259
 Index of Ancient Sources 365

1319–1337 259 823 250

1338–1352 259 1292–1316 231
1355–1357 259 1415–1419 260
1688–1692 260
Orestes (Orest.)
Heracles (Heracl.) 140–207 216
73–117 216 174–186 222
748–783 223
1016–1024 236 Phaethon (Phaeth.)
227 202
Madness of Hercules (Herc. fur.) 229–243 219, 246
343–435 223
518, 531–534 80 Phoenician Women (Phoen.)
687 140, 204 355–356 218
1016–1024 236 1265 113

Hippolytus (Hipp.) [Rhesus] ([Rhes.])

58–113 202, 220, 246 1–51 278
525–563 223, 313 10 279
765–775 207 52–84 278
1268–1281 223 76–79 278
1347–1388 257, 281 85–86 279
105–130, 132 279
Ion 154–194, 197–198 280
219–236 216 199–201, 224–263 280
725–924 231 224–232, 233–241 279
859–922 257 242–252, 253–263 279
1519–1522 260 317–334 280
330–332 279
Iphigenia in Aulis (Iph. Aul.) 342–380 280
789–792 146 342–354 279
1037–1059 136 342 279
1055 140 355–359, 360–369 279
1467 125 370–379, 380–387 279
1500–1509 146 527–564 280
555–562, 675–682 279
Iphigenia in Taurus (Iph. Taur.) 715–721, 727–803 279
123–235 216 804–807 279
126–142 222 882 279–280
425 136 940–945 280
427 140
1143 204 Suppliants (Supp.)
1234–1283 223 1113–1164 202, 219
1234–1244 259
1245–1258 259 Trojan Women (Tro.)
1259–1269 259 153–196 216
1270–1283 259 308–341 257
551 140
Medea (Med.)
131–212 216
366 Index of Ancient Sources

Aulus Gellius 3.450 125

Attic Nights (N.A.) 4.17 148
10.1.5 182 8.87 148
11.4 168 8.246 143
17.17.1 166 8.248 115
8.256 140
Herodotus 8.264 114
1.23 126 8.429 22
3.48 134 23.147 134
7.6 126
Homeric Hymns (Hymn. Hom.)
Hesiod 3.149 143
Shield of Heracles (Scut.) 3.150–151 148
201 140 3.156 125
205 22 3.182, 513 143
270 143 3.517 125–126
5.293 22
Theogony (Theog.) 9.9 22
1–10 115 18.11 22
1 136, 143
Horace
Homer The Art of Poetry: To the Pisos (Ars)
Iliad (Il.) 79 277
1.70 39 85 233
1.458 126 185–188 164
1.472–474 115 189 274
1.472 126, 143 193–195 282
3.390–394 115 193–194 268
3.393 115 202–220 278
5.401, 809–810 125
6.301 125 Carmina (Carm.)
15.508 115 4.2.10 127
16.179 143
16.183 114–115 Epistles (Ep.)
16.617 140 2.1.139 165
18.490 143
18.491 115 Satires (Sat.)
18.567 115, 134, 140 1.14.45–62 277
18.571 114
18.590–606 115 Livy
18.590 114, 134, 139–140 7.2 166
18.593 134 33.25.1 182
18.603 114 34.44.5 266
22.391–394 125 36.36.1–2 181
22.391–392 115 39.5.7–10 181
24.720 115 40.51 192–193
40.52.3 182
Odyssey (Od.) 41.27 192–193
1.150 143 42.10.5 182
1.151–152 115
 Index of Ancient Sources 367

Longinus 2.654 113

13.3 118 2.654a–b 151
2.664c–d 135
Menander Rhetor 2.665a 149
432 127 2.665e 199
2.669–673 151
Ovid 3.700a–b 25
Tristia (Tr.) 3.700b1–5 128
5.7.27 183 3.700c–701a 174
7.801e 25
Pacuvius 7.814e–816d 204
Tragedy (Trag.) 7.815a 151
64 166 7.816b–c 266
7.817d 175
Pausanias
4.33.2 116 Republic (Rep.)
5.18.4 22 3.394b–c 121
10.12.5 39 3.394c 127
3.398d 144
Pindar 3.398e10–399a4 146
Isthmian Ode (Isthm.) 3.400a, d 144
7.60 22 10 151
10.607a 22
Nemean Ode (Nem.)
3.65 22 Timaeus (Tim.)
5.22 140 37d 39
8.50 22
Plautus
Olympian Ode (Ol.) Amphitryon (Amph.)
1.8 22 92 192
2.1 22
3.2 22 The Young Carthaginian (Poen.)
7.14 22 17, 57 192
13.18 127
13.19 139 The Churl (Truc.)
14.1–20 136 10 192

Pythian Ode (Pyth.) Pliny the Elder

6.7 22 Natural History (Nat.)
10.53 22 35–36 192

Plato Pliny the Younger

Cratylus (Crat.) Epistles (Ep.)
409c 127 7.17 184
9.34 184
Gorgias (Gorg.)
502b–d 174 Plutarch
Moralia
Laws (Leg.) The E at Delphi (E Delph.)
2.653e 151 389b 127
368 Index of Ancient Sources

That One Cannot Live Happily Following 344–345 127

Epicurus (Epicurum)
1096b 192 Michael Psellos
1098b 172 On Tragedy
61–66 132
On the Glory of Athens (Glor. Ath.)
348d–349b 199 Quintilian
Institutes of Oratory (Inst.)
Isis and Osiris (Is. Os.) 2.10.13 277
9.354c 39 7.7–8 24
8.3.31 183
On the Education of Children (Lib. Educ.) 10.1.62 115
63a 263
Seneca
On Music (Mus.) Agamemnon (Ag.)
1140f–1141a 132 57–107 284, 289–290, 294
310–387 286
Convivial Questions (Quaest. Conv.) 589–658 265, 274–275, 284,
1.612e 157 287
4.671e 157 589–610 290, 293
8.732 205 611–648 293
659–781 286
Parallel Lives 659–778 292
Crassus (Cras.) 664–781 265, 272, 275
33.3 263 778–781 292
808–866 287
Demetrius (Demetr.)
34 192 Madness of Hercules (Herc. fur.)
125–204 290, 294, 296
Solon (Sol.) 524–591 287
29 176 830–892 297
1032–1034 272
Pollux 1053–1137 286, 291
1.38 127
4.72 145 Hercules on Oeta [Herc. Oet.]
4.108–109 203 104–232 286
4.110 198 583–699 293
4.123 187, 195 700–715 265
700–705 292
Polybius 715 293
4.20 152
30.22 192 Medea (Med.)
57–115 286
Proclus 301–379, 361–363 287
(in Photius, Bibliotheke) 579–669 288–289
320a 12–17 129 849–878 284
320a 19–20 128 879–892 272, 285–286

Chrestomathy (Chrest.) Octavia (Oct.)

12 126 762–819 265, 274
 Index of Ancient Sources 369

778–779 292 149–175 287

780–805, 806–819 293 156–163 286, 297
164–165 285
Oedipus (Oed.) 166–167 272, 285
110–201 284 168–202 285
403–508 295 371–408 290
403–428 292 400 297
712–763 291 1009–1055 290, 296
882–914 289
980–996 290 Simonides
980–991 272 Epigram
1004–1009 272 76 136
1040–1041 272
Sophocles
Phaedra Ajax (Aj.)
274–375 290, 294 1–90, 172–185 241
281–295 291 185–186 241
281–282 291 239–240 230
296–298, 299–316 291 723–724 204
317–329, 330–352 291
353 291–292 Antigone (Ant.)
357 291 117–119 204
404–405 272, 285 471–472 218
406–430 285 604–610 241
736–823 289 1115–1152 222
959–988 288, 290 1348–1352 214
959–971, 972–977 290
978–979 289–290 Electra (El.)
1123–1148 289 121–250 216
1123–1140 289 137–144 237–238
1142–1143 289 153–154 237
1144–1148 289 177 238
1244–1246 272 213–220 237
219–220 238
Thyestes (Thy.) 233–235 237
122–175 291 369, 990, 1015 238
136–148, 149–175 287 1171–1173 238
336–403 289, 297
546–623 289 Oedipus at Colonus (Oed. Col.)
623–788 272, 285 117–253 216
830–874 290 117 211
1556–1578 222
Trojan Women (Tro.) 1777–1779 214
67–163 284, 286
69–70, 71–72 286 Oedipus the King (Oed. tyr.)
73–78 286 151–215 222, 233
82–163 272 151–157, 158–166 243
98–116 286 167–189 229, 243
136–148 287 190–203 243
138–141 286 498–499 240
370 Index of Ancient Sources

501 88 Themistius
622 77 Orations (Orat.)
711–713, 787–793 240 26.316d 158, 161
863–872 241
Theophrastus
Philoctetes (Phil.) Characters (Char.)
135–218 216, 229 9.5 174
356–357 204
539–541 228 Thucydides
1469–1471 214 2.68.6 77
5.20 170
Trachinian Women (Trach.) 6.32.2 125
129–131 204
178–179 228 Valerius Maximus
194–195 204 2.4.4 166
205 125, 224
496 245 Varro
971–1045 281 On the Latin Language (Ling.)
7.82 166
Strabo
15.728 126 Vitruvius
5.3.1 182
Suda 5.6.2 263, 266
s.v. “Life of Sophocles” 7.1.5 190
4 199
Xenophon of Athens
Suetonius Anabasis (Anab.)
Life of Domitian (Dom.) 5.2.14 125
13.2 42
The Education of Cyrus (Cyr.)
On Grammarians (Gramm.) 3.3.58 125
1.2 166 4.1.7 125

Tacitus Hellenica (Hell.)

Annals (Ann.) 7.2.23 125
14.15 7 7.4.31 185
14.20 192–193
14.21 192 Memorabilia (Mem.)
15.29 41 1.4.3 121
15.44 55 3.5.6 200

Dialogue on Oratory (Dial.) Xenophon of Ephesus

2.1–3.3 184 Ephesiaca
1.2.3 139
Terence
Hecyra (Hec.) Zenobius
35 182 5.40 157
…
…
…
…
…
Index of Modern Authors

Allen, J. T.…191 Boring, E.…2, 18, 44, 54–55, 59, 61,

Allison, D., Jr.…4, 29 101, 108, 299
Anderson, W. D.…143, 145–147, 225 Botha, J.…29
Andújar, R.…200, 213, 215–217, 257 Bousset, W.…45, 54–55, 93, 97, 106
Arnott, P.…188–189, 192, 195, 205, 211, Bowen, C. R.…300
228, 232, 271 Bowra, C. M.…119
Ashby, C.…187 Boyle, A. J.…168, 292, 296–297
Athanassakis, A.…27, 29 Brandt, J.-A.…300
Aune, D. E.…7–8, 11–12, 33–38, 42, 44– Bremer, J. M.…23–27, 122, 128–129,
45, 51, 54–55, 63–65, 68–69, 73, 75, 160, 242
77–78, 80, 82, 86, 94, 101, 105–107, Brettler, M. Z.…41, 50
299 Brewer, R.…16–17
Aylen, L.…142 Briggs, R.…5, 36
Brothers, A. J.…194
Bacon, H.…113, 150 Brown, D.…14–17
Balsdon, P. V. D.…181 Bundy, E. L.…120
Barker, A.…133 Burian, P.…159
Barrett, C. K.…35 Burke, J. P.…33
Barrett, J.…160 Burkert, W.…26, 139
Bassett, S. A.…157 Burnett, A. P.…119–120, 126
Bauckham, R.…9–11, 42–43, 49, 54–55, Burton, R. W. B.…120, 231–232, 238,
62–63, 83, 99, 299 245, 250
Beacham, R.…165, 181–182, 192, 195,
282 Caird, G. B.…9, 11, 13, 43, 60, 77, 96,
Beale, G. K.…11 105–106
Beare, W.…168, 193, 277 Calame, C.…23, 117, 125, 134–136, 139,
Beasley-Murray, G. R.…2, 44, 54–55, 141, 152–153
61, 73, 108 Calder, W. M.…184, 264
Behr, C. H.…29 Campbell, D. A.…115, 117–120, 145
Berger, K.…26 Canter, H. V.…297
Bethe, E.…155 Capps, E.…263, 269
Betz, H. D.…47 Carey, G.…62, 83
Beverley, E. J.…257 Carlos-Reyes, L.…29
Bickerman, E.…164 Carne-Ross, D. S.…119
Bieber, M.…189, 264 Carnegie, D.…2, 7–8, 11, 14
Bishop, D. J.…295 Carter, D. M.…159
Blevins, J. L.…18 Chamoux, F.…173
Blount, B.…18 Champion, L. G.…51
Böcher, O.…4 Champlin, E.…62
Borgen, P.…8 Chaniotis, A.…190
Charles, J. D.…43
 Index of Modern Authors 372

Charles, R. H.…9, 11, 13, 43, 60, 77, 96, Ellul, J.…14, 18
105–106 Else, G.…157, 180, 270
Charlesworth, J.…28 Erasmo, M.…167
Chazon, E. G.…28 Esposito, S.…233–234, 240
Coles, R. A.…268
Collins, J. J.…298 Fagles, R.…119, 126
Comblin, J.…42 Fantham, E.…168–169, 183–184, 296
Conacher, D. J.…238, 242 Fantuzzi, M.…28, 122, 163, 262, 282
Connick, C. M.…300 Färber, H.…128
Cothenet, É.…5 Farrer, A. M.…59
Court, J. M.…2, 59 Farris, S.…30
Cousland, J. R. C.…300 Fearn, D.…126
Crowhurst, R.…134–136, 139–141, 146 Fee, G. D.…29
Crowther, C.…173 Fekkes, J.…110
Csapo, E.…132, 147, 156, 158, 171–172, Feuillet, A.…34
174, 179, 183, 190, 203, 271 Fitch, J. G.…169
Cullmann, O.…6 Fitton Brown, A. D.…198
Curley, T. F.…296 Fletcher, J.…248–250
Cuss, D.…7 Flickinger, R. C.…192, 266–267, 269–270
Flower, I. H.…181
Dale, A. M.…142, 144, 155, 201, 205, Flusser, D.…2, 28, 37
207, 226–227, 231 Foley, H. P.…176, 201, 204–205
D’Alfonso, F.…142 Fontenrose, J.…73
D’Angour, A.…134, 138, 140–141 Fraenkel, E.…281
D’Anna, J.…268 Frank, M.…274
Davidson, J. F.…204–205 Friedrich, R.…127
Davies, M.…118 Friesen, S.…62–63, 83
Davis, P.…181, 185, 265, 267, 273, 275, Furley, W. D.…23–27, 122, 128–129,
286–287, 289, 292, 294–297 242, 244
Deichgräber, R.…3, 7, 14, 58, 65, 101, Fussell, P., Jr.…130
105
Deissmann, A.…47 Gardiner, C.…217, 229, 238, 249
de Jong, I. J. F.…160 Garvie, A. F.…202, 215, 226–227, 245
Delling, G.…7, 18 Garzya, A.…117
deSilva, D. A.…43 Gentili, B.…118, 165, 268
Deubner, L.…173 Gerber, D.…29
Devlin, N. G.…26 Gerber, D. E.…116–120, 122
Dihle, A.…185 Ghiron-Bastagne, P.…263–264
Dingel, J.…296 Giblin, C. H.…59
Dodds, E. R.…234 Gloer, W. H.…2–3, 29
Dörpfeld, W.…186 Goldhill, S.…174, 232, 250–251, 255, 257
Duckworth, G. E.…167, 282 Gomme, A. W.…270
Dupont, F.…168, 191, 277 Gordley, M.…23–26, 28–29
Gordon, J.…180
Easterling, P. E.…119, 127, 163–164, Gould, J.…221, 254
173, 234 Green, J. R.…138, 165
Ebener, D.…163 Grimal, P.…169, 184
Eckman, B.…29 Grube, G. M. A.…218, 231, 234, 245
Elliott, J. K.…51 Gruber, M. A.…234
Elliott, S. M.…63 Gunkel, H.…23, 28, 45
 Index of Modern Authors 373

Habicht, C.…178 Karrer, M.…299

Haldane, J. A.…129 Karris, R. J.…3, 27, 29
Hall, E.…173, 257 Keith, P.…29
Hall, R. G.…33 Kelly, H. A.…185
Halporn, J. W.…131, 133, 142, 220 Kennel, G.…29
Hamilton, R.…229 Kenyon, F. G.…121
Handley, E. W.…270 Kernodle, G. R.…205, 207–208
Hanson, J. A.…181 Kirkwood, G. M.…217, 234, 249
Harlé, P. A.…35 Kittle, B. P.…28
Harrington, W. J.…55 Kitto, H. D. F.…162
Harris, M. A.…14, 18 Kraft, H.…55
Harrison, G. W. M.…184 Kranz, W.…155, 250, 276
Harvey, A. E.…34, 122–123, 125, 128 Kraybill, J. N.…11, 84
Hays, R. B.…47 Krentz, E.…3
Heath, M.…124, 213, 260–261 Kroll, J.…3, 29
Hedrick, W. K.…73 Kuch, H.…164
Heinemann, J.…37 Kugelmeier, C.…295
Hellholm, D.…299
Hengel, M.…8, 164 Lambrecht, J.…18, 63
Henry, D.…296 Landels, J. G.…142–143, 145–146, 207
Herington, C. J.…184 Larmour, D. H. J.…176–178
Herington, J.…123, 134, 146, 149, 157, Lattimore, R.…123
220 Lattke, M.…26
Herzog, O.…169 Läuchli, S.…7, 30
Hillyer, N.…35 Lawler, L.…137–138, 140, 146, 203,
Hitchcock, F. R. M.…300 206, 208, 266, 295
Holladay, C.…163 Lawler Dewey, A. R.…295
Hose, M.…263, 271, 281–283 Lech, M.…204–205
Hubbard, T. K.…250 Lefkowitz, M.…118, 124
Hunter, R.…28, 122, 163, 262, 282 Le Frois, B. J.…76
Hurtado, L.…4 Le Guen, B.…178
Huxley, G. L.…116 Leo, F.…295
Lesky, A.…164
Jacobson, H.…163–164, 184, 275–276 Lévêque, J.…33
Janko, R.…27, 116, 156 Lévêque, P.…270
Jauhiainen, M.…59 Ley, G.…116, 143–144, 147, 153, 189,
Jebb, R. C.…121 204–206, 266
Jeremias, J.…35, 45 Liapis, V.…163
Jocelyn, H. D.…166, 266, 271, 276, 281– Lightfoot, J. L.…173, 177–179, 263
283 Lohmeyer, E.…60
Jöhrens, G.…29 Longo, O.…251, 253
Jörns, K.-P.…7–8, 14, 30, 39, 45, 51–52, Lonsdale, S. H.…148–149
54–55, 57–58, 60, 63–65, 97, 101,
105, 107 Maas, P.…131, 220
Jory, E. J.…178, 182, 263 Maaß, M.…190
MacLachlan, B. C.…118–119
Kaimio, M.…200, 219 Maehler, H.…120–121, 123–124
Kallen, H. M.…300 Maidment, K.…269
Kalugila, L.…50 Maier, J.…4
Käppel, L.…126 Manns, F.…7
 Index of Modern Authors 374

Mansoor, M.…29 Parsenios, G. L.…300

Manuwald, G.…165–168, 181–182, 262– Paulien, J.…5
263, 271, 276–277, 281–282 Peterson, E.…7, 12, 42
Marshall, C. W.…160, 180, 184, 277 Pfeiffer, R.…28, 180, 184
Marshall, I. H.…47 Philonenko, M.…106
Marti, B.…296 Phoutrides, A. E.…226, 234
Martin, D.…47 Pickard-Cambridge, A.…127, 140–141,
Martin, G.…27, 29 147, 155–156, 171–172, 174, 176,
Martin, R. P.…3, 5–6, 27, 29 178–179, 186, 188–189, 191, 198–
Martyn, J. L.…47 199, 203, 205, 223
Massyngbaerde Ford, J.…2, 6, 9–10, 17, Piper, O.…5–6
30, 55 Podlecki, A. J.…174
Mastronarde, D.…201, 211, 214, 234, Pohlenz, M.…250
236, 247–248, 253, 255, 261 Pratt, N. T.…296
Mazzaferri, F. D.…299 Prigent, P.…5–6, 37, 49, 54–57, 61, 69–
Meier, C.…159 70, 73–75, 77, 85, 94–96, 99–100,
Meijerink, R.…250 106, 108
Mendell, C. W.…170, 273, 295–296 Pulleyn, S.…22–26
Milaneza, S.…173
Miller, A. W.…117–118 Rabinowitz, P. J.…254
Milne, H. J. M.…267 Raby, G.…185
Molyneux, J. H.…126 Race, W. H.…24, 26, 119–120, 134
Moore, T. J.…277 Rehm, R.…157, 171, 175–177, 181–182,
Morand, A.-F.…29 189, 213, 218, 220, 245
Moule, C. F. D.…7 Reinhold, M.…162
Mowry, L.…3, 5–6, 36–37 Reisch, E.…186
Mullen, W.…113, 137–138, 141–142, Resseguie, J. L.…18
152, 205 Ribbeck, O.…263
Müller, D.…29 Ridgeway, W.…157
Müller, H.-P.…45 Ritchie, W.…163, 276
Müller, K.…15 Robbins, E.…116–120, 124
Murphy, F.…17, 63 Roberts, D. H.…214
Murray, G.…157, 163 Roller, O.…44
Myres, J. L.…140 Roloff, J.…2, 45, 61, 73–74, 87
Roselli, D. K.…174
Nervegna, S.…171, 179 Rosenmeyer, P.…118
Newsom, C.…29 Rosenmeyer, T. G.…131, 228, 232–234,
Neyrey, J.…47 236, 248–250
Nietzsche, F.…157 Rossi, L. E.…121
Nisetich, F.…120 Rothwell, K., Jr.…271
Norden, E.…23–24, 26 Ruiz, J.-P.…7–9, 11, 100
Norwood, G.…217 Russell, D. A.…29
Nusca, A. R.…8 Rutherford, I.…116, 124–126, 153, 173,
223, 286
O’Rourke, J.…6, 8, 30
Osborne, R.…176, 257 Sandbach, F. H.…270, 282
Ostwald, M.…131 Sanders, J. T.…3, 29
Satake, A.…70
Palmer, F.…15–17 Schattenmann, J.…3, 29
Parry, H.…213, 222, 236 Scherrer, S. J.…63
 Index of Modern Authors 375

Schiesaro, A.…168 Thraede, K.…26

Schille, G.…29 Thuillier, J.-P.…166
Schimanowski, G.…9 Tölle, R.…134–135, 139–140
Schlegel, A. W.…14, 248–249 Trendall, A.…158, 162
Schuller, E. M.…28 Trypanis, C. A.…157
Schüssler-Fiorenza, E.…9–13, 17–18, 43, Turyn, A.…120
63, 69, 299
Scott, W. C.…144 Van den Berg, R. M.…29
Scullion, S.…156, 173–174 Vanhoye, A.…3, 100
Seaford, R.…156 van Unnik, W. C.…45
Sear, F.…188, 192, 194–195, 303 Vernant, J.-P.…127, 252
Seidensticker, B.…288 Vickers, B.…127, 245
Segal, C. P.…232, 240–242, 292 Vidal-Naquet, P.…127, 252
Shepherd, M. H., Jr.…6, 545 Vogelgesang, J. M.…3
Sienkewicz, T. J.…204 Volk, K.…185
Sifakis, G. M.…173, 177, 179, 189, 192,
262–263, 265, 267, 269, 271, 276 Walker, E.…296
Sigal, P.…5 Walton, J. M.…155, 159, 171–172, 174–
Slater, N. W.…167, 282 176, 199, 205, 208
Slater, W. J.…132, 147, 156, 171, 174, Warmington, E.…268, 270
179, 183, 190, 203, 271 Warren-Rothlin, A. L.…4
Slavitt, D. R.…124 Watts, J. W.…28
Smith, R. H.…6, 8 Webster, T. B. L.…116, 123, 127, 134,
Smith, S. H.…300 137, 142, 158, 162, 179, 205–206,
Smith, T. J.…172 269–270
Smyth, H. W.…136 Weiss, J.…55
Snell, B.…120–121, 123 Weitzman, S.…2
Sommerstein, A. H.…163, 165, 247 Wengst, K.…3, 29
Spinks, B. D.…37 Werner, E.…5, 51
Srawley, J. H.…76, 42 West, M. L.…116–118, 127, 130–131,
Stefanovič, R.…44 143–145, 166, 220, 276
Stehle, E.…152 Westermann, C.…28
Stettler, C.…29 Whidbee, W.…300
Stevenson, G. M.…8, 36 Whitehead, D.…172, 190
Strand, K. A.…63 Wick, P.…5
Strugnell, J.…6, 275 Wiles, D.…171–172, 186–187, 189–190,
Sutton, D. F.…184, 265 199–200, 203, 207, 224
Sweet, J. P. M.…18 Williams, G.…165
Swete, H. B.…6, 9, 11, 43, 60, 93 Wilson, E.…16
Swift, L.…117, 123–124 Wilson, J. C.…9
Wilson, P. J.…160, 173, 175, 190, 198–
Taplin, O.…165, 188–189, 202, 208– 201
209, 212, 224, 229 Winkler, J. J.…198, 204, 251
Tarrant, R. J.…169–170, 183–184, 265, Winnington-Ingram, R. P.…249
273–274, 276, 294, 296 Wolfers, D.…300
Taylor, L. R.…181 Woodbury, L.…118
Thom, J. C.…26, 28 Wright, N. T.…47
Thomas, R.…116 Wünsch, R.…26
Thompson, L. L.…2, 4, 6–11, 13–14, 29,
42
 Index of Modern Authors 376

Xanthakis-Karamanos, G.…158, 161– Young, D. C.…124

162, 164, 179, 267, 270–271, 278
Zelenak, M. X.…159
Yarbro Collins, A.…10, 62–63, 73, 76, Zimmermann, B.…141, 263
83, 99, 299 Zwierlein, O.…183
…
…
…
…
…
Subject Index

actors’ guilds – avenging ~…95–98, 101, 104

– in the Hellenistic period…178–179, – of the saints and prophets…61, 95–
263 98, 104–105, 310–311
– in the Roman periods…182–183 – of the servants…61
ἁλληλουιά…101–102, 105–108, 111 – redemptive power of ~ of the
altar Lamb…34, 45–46, 54, 57–58, 79–80,
– in the Classical and Hellenistic 87, 111, 303
periods…139–140, 187–188, 205…
– in the Roman periods…128, 192, 195 choral dance
– in Revelation…16, 32, 55, 77, 96–97 – choreography…141–143, 203–208,
amen…52, 57–58, 106, 111 265–267
antistrophe – circular dances…139–141, 203–206
– in Greek poetry…124, 133, 137, 142, – in earliest Greek choruses…114–115
206–207, 240, 280 – notation…137
– in Revelation…58, 95–97, 105, 111 – perceived benefits of ~…137–143
archaic poetry – processionals…138–139
– Alcman…116–117, 122, 125, 136, – relationship to choral poetry…136–138
145, 153… – “V-Shaped” dances…141
– Anacreon…117–119, 122, 136… choral lyrics in Tragedy, see → tragic
– Ibycus…117–118, 122… choruses in the Classical period,
– Simonides…117, 119, 122, 125–126, → tragic choruses in post-Classical,
134, 136, 145 Hellenistic, and Roman Periods
– Stesichorus…117–118, 122 choral poetry
archon…171, 175–176 – dances associated with ~, see
aulos…127, 133, 139, 143, 145–147, → choral dance
224–225, 257, 276–277, 309 – dialectical features…20, 113, 118,
134, 213, 221, 253, 275–276, 301,
Babylon 308–309
– as symbol of Rome…43, 60–61, 63, – dithyramb…26, 119–124, 126–129,
73, 84, 92, 94, 103, 105, 111 136, 139–141, 147, 149, 151, 154–
– destruction of ~/Rome…67–68, 84, 157, 170–171, 173, 176–177, 187, 198,
95, 98–101, 103, 105, 108, 111 203, 206, 221, 224, 241, 263, 275
beasts – epinician ode…22, 117, 120, 123–
– as symbols of the Roman imperial 124, 221
apparatus…11–12, 43, 60–63, 66–67, – formal features, see → formal
69, 73, 75, 82–85, 87–88, 90–92, 94– features of choral poetry
95, 99–101, 105, 108, 111 – functions of ~…147–153
“blessing” – in tragedy, see → tragic choruses in
– in Revelation’s hymns…49–51, 57 the Classical period, → tragic
blood choruses in post-Classical,
– as retributive drink…94–98, 310–311 Hellenistic, and Roman Periods
 Subject Index 378

– metrical characteristics, see → metri- Dragon…12, 61, 72–79, 81–83, 85, 90–
cal properties of choral poetry 92, 100, 306, 312, 315
– musical elements, see → musical – representing historical personages…
elements in choral poetry 74–79, 90–91
– paean…26, 115–116, 119–120, 122– dramatic festivals
129, 146–147, 149, 152–153, 218, – attendees…174
221–222, 233, 241–242, 279 – Dionysian orientation…170–174,
– preserved in Alexandrian library…22, 177–178, 191
120–123, 126, 128–129, 139 – in the Classical period…170–174
– typologies…23–27, 122–129 – in the Hellenistic period…177–178
choregos…175–176, 198–200, 263 – in the Roman period…180–182
choreia…113–114 – personnel…175–176
chorodidaskalos…137, 175, 199–200
choruses Elders, 24
– composition of ~…20, 113–114, 116, – antecedents…5, 8
134–135, 197–198, 200, 202, 221, – as tragic chorus…16, 300–305, 311,
264, 304 313, 316–318
– earliest forms in Greece…113–119 – Elder as chorus-leader…300, 303
– functions of ~…147–153 – function in Revelation…8, 32–34, 36,
– in the Classical period…119–129, 39, 41, 43, 45, 48, 53, 57–58, 64, 83,
154–161, 196–261 106, 311, 313, 316–318
– in the Hellenistic period…161–165, – movements in dramatic terms…302–303
262–271, 275–280 embolima…270–271, 282, 295
– in the Roman period…272–275, 276– episodia, see → stasimon
277, 280–297… epodic structure…118, 124, 133, 142
– in tragedy, see → tragic choruses in Ezekiel the Tragedian…163–164, 184,
the Classical period, → tragic 275–276
choruses in post-Classical,
Hellenistic, and Roman Periods fornication…60, 63, 69, 92, 99–101,
– size…135–136, 198–200 103–105
– types of ~, see → choral poetry
chorus-leader…200, 300, 303 Great (City) Dionysia…127, 158, 162,
classical choral poetry 170–171, 175, 177, 179
– Bacchylides…119–127, 134, 156 Greek tragedy in the Classical period
– decline in 4th c. B.C.E.…121–122, – Aeschylus…158
161–163 – choral forms, see → tragic choruses
– in tragedy…119–129, 154–161, 196– in the Classical period
261 – choral functions…225–244
– Pindar…25, 27, 117–120, 122–129, – Euripides…158
139–140, 147, 150, 156 – exodos…160, 213–215
combat myth…73–74 – festival contexts of ~…170–174
– messenger speeches…157, 160, 164,
Dionysos…26, 126–128, 139, 146–147, 168, 231, 279
149, 155–157, 170–171, 173, 177, – number of actors…161
179–182, 185–191, 206 – origins of tragedy…154–158
– relationship with choral perform- – parodos…160, 211–212
ances…170–174, 177–178, 191, 263 – prologue…160, 164…
– theatre of ~ in Athens…179, 185–191 – Sophocles…158 …
Doric dialect…118, 134, 221, 275, 308– – stasimon…160, 212–213
309 – Thespis…158
379 Subject Index

Greek tragedy in the Hellenistic period “kingdom and priests”…45–48, 57, 69

– dearth of evidence…161–164 kingdom of God (and the Lamb)…9, 60–
– Exagoge…163–164, 275–276 72, 77–79, 82…
– formal elements of Hellenistic kingdom of the world…50, 60–66, 71
tragedy…164 kithara…31, 133, 145–146, 309
– Rhesus…161, 163, 264, 267, 269– kommos…233, 239, 272, 280, 286
270, 275, 277–280 κύριος as designation for God in
“glory”…5, 11, 34, 39–41, 45, 49–51, Revelation…37–39, 41–42, 50–51,
57–58, 101–102, 108–110, 112 56, 60–65, 68, 86, 88–90, 97, 104,
“great and marvelous works”…86–88 108, 312…
Great Multitude…8, 32, 53–59, 61, 68,
76–77, 84, 101, 110, 303–306, 313 Lamb as Christological image
– as martyrs…53–55 – image of the slaughtered Lamb…12,
great tribulation…48, 53–54, 57, 59 34–35, 45–49
– investiture of the Lamb as king…44–
heavenly throne……32–39, 41–46, 48– 46, 49–53, 312, 315
53, 55, 57–59, 61, 64, 69, 72, 83–85, – marriage of the Lamb…108–112
101, 106, 302–304, 316 – redemptive powers of the Lamb…4,
heavenly throne-room…32–37 46–48, 57–61, 87
“honor”…34, 39–41, 49–51, 57–58, 89– Lenaia Festival…171–172
91 lex talionis…96, 105
hymns Living Creatures…16, 32–34, 36–39, 41,
– definitions …22 43, 45, 48–50, 52–53, 57–58, 83, 106,
– doxologies…11, 13, 51–52, 58, 102 300, 303–305
– formal elements …23–24 – antecedents…32–33
– functions in tragedy…241–244, 291– – functions in Revelation…32–33, 300,
292 303–305
– ὕµνοι vs. ἐγκώµια …22 Livius Andronicus…166–168, 177, 182
– in Hebrew Bible…3, 28 lyre…31, 114–115, 118, 133, 143, 145–
– in New Testament…2–3, 29–30 146, 224–225, 277–278, 309
– in Revelation, see → Revelation’s lyric dialogue…215–216, 267–269, 272–
Hymns 273, 279
– in Greek and Roman world…4, 26–
29 mark of the Beast…69, 83–84, 90, 94,
– relationship to non-hymnic choral 104–105
poetry…128–129 – destruction for those who receive
– thanksgiving ~…64–65 the ~…94, 104–105
– types…26–30 martyrs…33, 48, 55, 76, 79, 81–82, 96–
97, 101–107, 110–111, 303, 315
ideal spectator…246–255 metrical properties of choral poetry
investiture – breve…130–131
– of the Lamb…44–53, 65, 312, 315 – foot…130–131, 136, 141, 207
– of Roman emperors…50–51 – in tragedy…220, 275–276
– longum…130–131
judgment – metron…130–131
– of God…10–11, 35, 39, 44–46, 53, – period…130–132
59, 66–69, 81, 84–103, 105, 109, 302, – responsion…118, 120, 132–133, 142,
312, 315 206, 212, 215, 220, 257, 266–267,
– of the dead…66, 71–72 272, 280, 308
 Subject Index 380

– stichic patterns…31, 131–133, 220, reading drama…180, 264

276 recapitulation…59
– strophic patterns…31, 121, 131–133, recitatio…132, 183–184
142, 206, 212, 215–216, 220, 257, Revelation as Tragedy…288–300
266–267, 272 Revelation’s hymns
“might” …49–50, 57–58 – anti-imperial position…11–13
musical elements in choral poetry – criteria for identification…22–29
– accompaniment…145–147 – in light of hymnic antecedents…3–4,
– instruments…145–147 22–31
– modes…146–147 – in light of Jewish liturgies…4–6
– musical notation…143 – in light of early Christian
– reproduction of sound…146 liturgies…6–7
– rhythm…143–145 – in light of Roman court
myriads and myriads of angels…35–36, ceremonials…7–8
48, 303–304, 318 – in terms of tragic choral lyrics, see
myth → Revelation’s hymns as choral
– in choral poetry…118, 124, 149–150, lyrics
152 – neglect in scholarship…2–3
– in tragedy…159, 164, 168 – question of dramatic value in modern
biblical scholarship…14–18
“the nations”…9, 12, 64–69, 82, 86, 89, – structural functions…13–14
92–95, 312 – theological and Christological
New Jerusalem…69, 99–101, 109–112 value…8–11, 37–112
“New Song”…4–5, 45–48, 83 Revelation’s hymns as choral lyrics
non-lyric dialogue…216–217, 267–268, – characters as chorus…301–305
272, 279 – dramatic audience…313
– foreshadowing…312–313
the “one seated upon the throne”…32, – formal similarities and dissimilarities
38, 51, 101 with choral lyrics…308–310
the “one who is and was and is to – framing the surrounding dramatic
come”…30, 65, 68, 95 activity in a mythological-theological
orchestra context……315–316
– as locus for dramatic action…187– – functional similarities/dissimilarities
188, 202–203, 205, 208–211, 213, with choral lyrics…310–316…
231, 265–267, 282–283 – methodological challenges…305–308
– in the Classical period…160, 186– – “voice” of Revelation’s hymns…
189 316–317
– in the Hellenistic period…190–192 revival performances…171, 179, 182
– in the Roman periods…194–195, 198 Rhesus…161, 163–164, 262, 264–265,
“our Lord and God”…39, 41–42, 51 267–270, 275–280
– eating…163
παντοκράτωρ…9, 37–38, 64–65, 86, 97, – evidence of continuity with Classical
108 tragic choruses…267–269, 275, 277
“power” – “righteous”…8, 86–89, 92–98, 101,
– as attribute of God and/or Lamb…5, 103, 106, 110–111
38–46, 48–52, 57–58, 64–66, 71, 73, – “righteous and true ways”…86–88,
77–79, 82, 101–102, 108, 311 93
– of the enemies of God and/or the Roman tragedy
Lamb…61–62, 75, 78, 80, 92, 99 – early Roman poets…166–167
prohedria…187, 190–191, 194 – origins of ~…165–166
381 Subject Index

– praetextata…168 theatre-buildings
– Seneca, see → Senecan tragedy – in the Classical period…185–189
– tragoedia…168 – in the Hellenistic period…189–192
– types…168 – in the Roman period…192–195
Rome – temporary Roman structures…192–
– eschatological destruction of ~…62– 193
64, 84, 94, 99–106, 111 theatron
– persecution of Christians…72–83, 96, – in the Classical period…185–186
102, 312 – in the Hellenistic period…189–190
– portrayed symbolically in – in the Roman periods…194
Revelation…11–12, 62–63, 73, 76, “those who destroy the earth”…64–70,
84–85, 94, 100, 103, 312
rural Dionysia…171–174 “those who fear God”…66
thymele, see → altar
salvation…39, 47, 55–59, 77–79, 82, 86– tragedy, see → Greek tragedy,
89, 91, 93, 95, 101–102, 108–111, 315 → Roman tragedy
Satan tragic choruses in the Classical period
– as dragon…12, 61, 72–83, 85, 90–92, – as characters…200–202
100, 312, 315 – choreography…205–208
– as the “accuser”…34, 77, 79–82, 85 – chorus-leader…200
– defeat of ~ by God…77–83, 85, 90– – composition…197–198
92, 100–101, 312, 315 – dialect…221
secondary choruses…202, 265, 274–275 – during scenes…215–220
Senecan tragedy…168–170 – functions…225–244
– relationship with antecedent Greek – in-between scenes…210–215
tragedy…169–170 – instruments…224–225
– scroll…5, 34–35, 43–46, 49, 52–53, – lyric dialogue…215–216
60, 306, 311 – metrical properties…220
skene – non-lyric dialogue…216–217
– in the Classical period…188 – non-lyric, non-dialogical
– in the Hellenistic period…191 elements…217–220
– in the Roman periods…195 – position in orchestra…202–203
Song of Moses…85–87, 91 – qualitative decline…256–258
sovereignty – quantitative decline…256
– God and the Lamb’s challenge to the – relation to actors…202–203, 208
~ of Roman emperor…41–43, 49–52, – relationship to non-tragic lyric
64–65, 71, 73, 78, 89–91 forms…221–223
– of God…9–10, 38, 41–42, 52, 58–59, – secondary choruses…202
64–65, 71, 73, 78, 87, 89–91, 95–98, – shape…203–205
101–102, 106, 108–112, 312, 315 – singing…223–224
– of the Lamb…9–10, 49–52, 73, 78, – size…198–199
101 – training…199–200
– of Roman emperors – trends…255–261
stage – “voice” of the chorus…246–255
– in the Classical period…188–189 tragic choruses in the post-Classical,
– in the Hellenistic period…191–192 Hellenistic, and Roman Periods
– in the Roman periods…195 – as characters…262–265
stasimon…209–210, 212–213 – choreography…266–267
strophe, see → metrical properties of – composition/personnel…263–265
choral poetry: strophic patterns
 Subject Index 382

– continuity with classical tragic – musical elements…276–278

choruses – non-lyric dialogue…267–268, 272,
– dearth of evidence for pre-Senecan 279
tragedy…262–263, 280–283 – relation to actors…265–266
– detachment of the chorus from – secondary choruses…265, 274–275
surrounding action…294–295 – size…263–264
– dialect…275–276
– diminished role of chorus…269, 272– voice from the throne…106–107
273, 280, 283–284
– during scenes…267–269 “wealth” …49–50, 58, 99–100
– functions…278–295 “wisdom” …49–50, 57
– hymnic elements in Senecan “Whore of Babylon”…43, 60–63, 88, 94,
tragedy…275 99–105, 110–111, 310–311
– in-between scenes…269–271 “Woman Clothed with the Sun”…72–78
– innovations in Senecan wrath of God…10, 59–68, 71, 81–82, 84,
tragedy…272–274 93–96, 98–99, 103, 311–312
– lyric dialogue…267–269, 272–273,
279 “you are worthy”…39–43, 45–46
– metrical properties…275–276