AESCHYLUS’ DIKTYOULKOI: A TYPICALLY ATYPICAL SATYR PLAY?

Abstract

The story of Danae and her son Perseus on Seriphos, where they are initially rescued by Dictys only to be his molested by his brother Polydectes, appeared in Greek lyric, tragedy, and comedy. Aeschylus’ satyric handling of the story has been read as a light-hearted, romantic romp with Silenos and the chorus acting as benign foster-parents to the infant hero. But Aeschylus gives Silenos and the chorus of satyrs a more menacing identity than they generally had in other plays of this genre. Silenos can be seen as the comical counterpart of Polydectes, and appears to have the full support of his sons, something he clearly does not enjoy in other satyric dramas. The satyrs of the chorus stand in contrast to the often more sympathetic, if clownish, creatures they can be elsewhere. Diktyoulkoi contains elements typical of satyr drama, but in paradoxical ways not without moments of pathos.

Some preliminaries

Aeschylus’ Diktyoulkoi (frr. ∗∗46a–47c), or Net-Haulers, for all the questions it raises in its fragmentary state, seems to conform to many of the characteristics of satyr play.¹ The date of the play is unknown, as is the tetralogy of which it is a part, but many commentators attach it to a hypothetical trilogy on the life of Perseus and link it to Aeschylus’ Polydectes and Phorcides.² While these problems do not affect my approach in this article, uncertainties over the distribution of the speaking parts in our fragments of Diktyoulkoi do have some bearing on my reading and I shall return to this issue. The fragments clearly deal with the story of the arrival on Seriphos of the infant hero Perseus and his mother Danae, and we have what would appear to be slightly less than one tenth of this play.³

Despite these difficulties there is general agreement as to the play’s narrative, at least in outline, since the journey of Perseus and Danae and their subsequent encounter with the lecherous king Polydectes, and his benign brother Dictys, who protects the new arrivals, can be gleaned more fully from later sources such as Apollodorus (2.4.1–5), Hyginus (Fab. 63), and Ovid (Met. 4.792–5.235), among others. The widely accepted reconstruction of the play goes something like this:⁴ two speakers by the shore discover a chest and attempt to haul it in; a call goes out to local farmers for help (fr. ∗∗46a) that is answered by the satyrs; in the next substantial fragment (fr. ∗∗47a) a speaker announces himself as Danae’s protector, but the girl’s terrified response and desperate prayer to Zeus make it almost certain that it is Silenos and/or the chorus of satyrs, not Dictys, as some have suggested,⁵ who has addressed her. This speaker tries to ingratiate himself with Danae by attempting to speak tenderly to the infant Perseus, promising to adopt him; Silenos and/or the chorus also aim to ensure that Danae becomes their property, assuming her readiness for sex and lecherously anticipating an imminent wedding. Our fragments end here and already the play is over 800 lines long. At one point the satyrs fall out with Dictys (fr.∗∗47a.800), who may have gone to fetch help for the unhappy arrivals; in the denouement he would return, rescue mother and son, and the satyrs, willingly or not, would have to concede defeat. It is possible the play ended with a drunken satyric revel as a prelude to a ‘proper’ wedding, as might happen in comedy; conversely, it might have ended on a sourer note for Silenos and his sons, with the satyrs’ failing to satisfy their desires. It is unlikely that Polydectes appeared in Diktyoulkoi, despite the fact that he is the title character in another of Aeschylus’ tragedies on the Perseus theme.⁶

Here I wish to suggest that Diktyoulkoi gives Silenos and the chorus a more menacing identity than they generally seem to have had in other satyr plays, so that Silenos can be seen as the comical counterpart of Polydectes. That Silenos may be a burlesque version of Polydectes has been noted before,⁷ but this idea can be taken further and the chorus may also be seen in the same light; indeed, a number of lines in our main fragment of Diktyoulkoi have been plausibly ascribed to both father and sons, suggesting a unity of purpose and even goodwill between them that is conspicuously absent in other satyr plays.⁸ Aeschylus, then, gives us a particularly negative image of the satyrs in this play as something of a collective ogre menacing a defenceless mother and her son; it is a story that has elements not so far removed from Homer’s account of Penelope’s struggles against the suitors.⁹ Moreover, Aeschylus structures his narrative in a deft paradoxical move. His drama conforms ostensibly to many of the tropes of satyr play, but he frames them in such a way as to make the satyrs more than usually transgressive. As such, the chorus in Diktyoulkoi stand in contrast to the, albeit clownish, figures they tend to be elsewhere in satyric drama, such as in Euripides’ Cyclops, where for all their ineptitude the chorus, unlike Silenos, support Odysseus and his men against the brutal Polyphemos (Cyc. 268–72, 435–38, 709, etc.).¹⁰ As the subject of tragedy, comedy, and lyric poetry, the Danae-Perseus theme lent itself to a variety of responses;¹¹ notable among these is Simonides (PMG 543), who gives the theme a poignant treatment to which I return later. The appearance of the Danae-Perseus theme in a satyr play—a genre known for its combination of the tragic and playful¹²—suggests that Aeschylus could imbue his treatment with menacing as well as lighter elements. It is these menacing elements, embodied by the satyrs, which seem to me to comprise some of the most noteworthy features of Diktyoulkoi.

Is the sustained threat of sexual violence in Diktyoulkoi serious and typical of satyrs’ behaviour onstage? Abundant examples of fifth-century red-figure pottery show diminutive satyrs being easily rebuffed by maenads with their thyrsi or fists;¹³ and Aristotle recognized that satyric stories were ‘small’ and ‘ridiculous’ compared to the solemnity of tragedy (Po. 1449a19–21). Griffith notes: ‘Both in the visual arts and in the theater, satyrs are generally represented as failing conspicuously in such endeavours (sc. attempted or fantasized rape), and as rarely [my emphasis] eliciting much serious anxiety in their respective victims.’¹⁴ This is correct as it stands, but Diktyoulkoi seems to be a significant exception to this trope of satyric drama. Goins rightly points out that the emphasis on the threat of sexual violence in Diktyoulkoi goes beyond the standard features of satyr play. Linking it to Amymone—the satyr play to Aeschylus’ Danaid trilogy of 463 bc that tells of another satyric attempt at the rape of a young woman—he writes: ‘… only these two of the seventeen Aeschylean satyr plays whose titles we possess seem to have had the attempted seduction of an unwilling young woman as their main plot. … the focus upon violence within an erotic context seems more a product of Aeschylus’ own artistic interests than of the demands of the satyric genre.’¹⁵ Scarcely three lines of Amymone survive (frr. 13–15 Radt), so the extent of the threat posed by the satyrs is difficult to determine, but it seems that the intervention of Poseidon was required to stop it; in his speculative reconstruction of the play, Sutton argued that Silenos’ lecherous designs on Amymone were the satyric counterpart to the herald’s role in Suppliants as the spokesman of those who wish to reduce the Danaids to sexual bondage.¹⁶ Hall raises a number of important issues concerning gender in satyr drama and sees male sexual violence against women as endemic to the genre; she describes Diktyoulkoi as the ‘best example of heterosexual harassment in satyr drama’ and rightly sees that Danae’s fear of rape is justified.¹⁷ However, her view that satyr drama is a ‘male’ genre—embodied by the supposedly hyper-masculine satyrs—which ‘riotously celebrated’ male sexual violence is questionable, as it elides the complexities of satyrs onstage and the variety of roles they can play; Hall’s view also assumes that males in the audience would identify with the satyrs unequivocally.¹⁸ In any event, her argument has value in encouraging us to reassess moments in satyr drama when sexual violence emerges as a fantasy (on the part of the satyrs) or a potential act. We may ask: are the satyrs just lecherously inept buffoons? Do their intentions reflect the desires of the males in the audience? Or are there times when the satyrs’ sexually-motivated antics reveal them as something more transgressive and repellent? The answers will inevitably vary from play to play and sometimes even within the same play. However, the depiction of the satyrs in our fragments of Diktyoulkoi, in which they appear to come closer to raping a female figure than in any other drama we know of, seems to give clear answers to these questions.

The dark side of the satyrs in Diktyoulkoi

This drama has often been seen as a light-hearted romance, especially in the overtures by Silenos (and possibly chorus) to the infant Perseus (fr. ∗∗47a. esp. 799–832). Eduard Fraenkel praised these lines as: ‘one of the loveliest pieces of Greek poetry’ and saw Aeschylus ‘turning topics of the nursery to a song of purest poetry and enchanting melodiousness!’.¹⁹ Podlecki quotes with approval the opinion of Howe, who saw in the play ‘an aura of light romanticism’; and Howe elsewhere speaks of Dictys in the play—to whom she ascribes many lines now generally attributed to Silenos or the chorus—as an ‘elderly don rescuing a young lady in distress’.²⁰ However, when viewed against the backdrop of varying treatments that make the story of Danae and Perseus tragic and/or comic, Diktyoulkoi seems to invite different responses. Griffith sees in Silenos’ overtures to the infant Perseus signs of a figure in a state of arrested development and inane fantasizing that many in the original audience would have found ludicrous, if not disgusting.²¹ Goins plausibly sees in the old satyr’s speech a hypocrisy scarcely concealing his real goal: having his way with the boy’s unwilling mother.²² Kousoulini views Silenos’ words to Perseus as comprising a lullaby of sorts, a medium that she considers to be a ‘composed-in-performance genre, initially belonging to anonymous female poetry’; but she acknowledges that such a lullaby can have negative undertones, since it comes from a male, monstrous figure who has selfish ends in mind and whom she nevertheless describes as a ‘harmless’.²³ As a result, she does not explore the overall menace posed here by Silenos and the chorus and says little about the drama beyond the so-called ‘lullaby’ at lines 803–20.

Our fragments of Diktyoulkoi begin with two figures in stichomythia, probably Silenos and Dictys. Some have objected that Silenos cannot be in this scene because the other satyrs have not yet entered.²⁴ However, the old satyr appears without the chorus in the prologues of Euripides’ Cyclops and Sophocles’ Trackers (frr. 314–∗318); he can therefore do so in Diktyoulkoi. After a brief exchange the first speaker calls out when the object comes into view (fr. ∗∗46a.8–21):

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<Α>                       ἔα· τί φῶ τόδ’ εἶναι; Πότερα.[ φάλαιναν ἢ ζύγαιναν ἢ κ.[ ἄναξ Πόσειδον Ζεῦ τ’ ἐνά[λιε	10
[δ]ῶρον θαλάσσης πέμπετ[ ..σοι θαλάσσης δίκτυον δ[ π]εφυκί[ω]ται δ’ ὥστε μ̣’ ἀγνο.[ ……] ἔναιμον η[6 let.]εν[ …..].ε.ων νησαῖος …[	15
6 let.] ἐστι· τοὖργον οὐ χωρεῖ πρόσω. ….. β]οὴν ἵστημι τοῖσδ’ ἰύγμασιν. ]πάντες γεωργοὶ δεῦτε κἀμπελοσκάφοι ]ε ποιμήν τ’ εἴ τίς ἐστ[’ ἐ]γχώριος ]οι τε καὶ μ̣α[ριλ]ευτῶν ἔθνος                                      ] ἐναντιωτάτης	20

<Α>                       ἔα· τί φῶ τόδ’ εἶναι; Πότερα.[ φάλαιναν ἢ ζύγαιναν ἢ κ.[ ἄναξ Πόσειδον Ζεῦ τ’ ἐνά[λιε	10
[δ]ῶρον θαλάσσης πέμπετ[ ..σοι θαλάσσης δίκτυον δ[ π]εφυκί[ω]ται δ’ ὥστε μ̣’ ἀγνο.[ ……] ἔναιμον η[6 let.]εν[ …..].ε.ων νησαῖος …[	15
6 let.] ἐστι· τοὖργον οὐ χωρεῖ πρόσω. ….. β]οὴν ἵστημι τοῖσδ’ ἰύγμασιν. ]πάντες γεωργοὶ δεῦτε κἀμπελοσκάφοι ]ε ποιμήν τ’ εἴ τίς ἐστ[’ ἐ]γχώριος ]οι τε καὶ μ̣α[ριλ]ευτῶν ἔθνος                                      ] ἐναντιωτάτης	20

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<Α>                       ἔα· τί φῶ τόδ’ εἶναι; Πότερα.[ φάλαιναν ἢ ζύγαιναν ἢ κ.[ ἄναξ Πόσειδον Ζεῦ τ’ ἐνά[λιε	10
[δ]ῶρον θαλάσσης πέμπετ[ ..σοι θαλάσσης δίκτυον δ[ π]εφυκί[ω]ται δ’ ὥστε μ̣’ ἀγνο.[ ……] ἔναιμον η[6 let.]εν[ …..].ε.ων νησαῖος …[	15
6 let.] ἐστι· τοὖργον οὐ χωρεῖ πρόσω. ….. β]οὴν ἵστημι τοῖσδ’ ἰύγμασιν. ]πάντες γεωργοὶ δεῦτε κἀμπελοσκάφοι ]ε ποιμήν τ’ εἴ τίς ἐστ[’ ἐ]γχώριος ]οι τε καὶ μ̣α[ριλ]ευτῶν ἔθνος                                      ] ἐναντιωτάτης	20

<Α>                       ἔα· τί φῶ τόδ’ εἶναι; Πότερα.[ φάλαιναν ἢ ζύγαιναν ἢ κ.[ ἄναξ Πόσειδον Ζεῦ τ’ ἐνά[λιε	10
[δ]ῶρον θαλάσσης πέμπετ[ ..σοι θαλάσσης δίκτυον δ[ π]εφυκί[ω]ται δ’ ὥστε μ̣’ ἀγνο.[ ……] ἔναιμον η[6 let.]εν[ …..].ε.ων νησαῖος …[	15
6 let.] ἐστι· τοὖργον οὐ χωρεῖ πρόσω. ….. β]οὴν ἵστημι τοῖσδ’ ἰύγμασιν. ]πάντες γεωργοὶ δεῦτε κἀμπελοσκάφοι ]ε ποιμήν τ’ εἴ τίς ἐστ[’ ἐ]γχώριος ]οι τε καὶ μ̣α[ριλ]ευτῶν ἔθνος                                      ] ἐναντιωτάτης	20

<A> Hey! What should I call this? Is it a whale? Or a hammerhead shark? Or …? Lord Poseidon, and Zeus ruler of the (deep), (10) … (you’re?) sending this up as a gift of the sea … (your?) net … of the sea and it’s covered in seaweed so that I (don’t recognize) … with living blood in it … of the island (?) … (15) … is … This business isn’t making progress! … I’ll start shouting and crying for help! … all you farmers and vine-diggers everywhere, come here! … and if there’s any shepherd in the place (20) … and you folk who (burn charcoal) … of the opposite-facing …²⁵

Despite uncertainties over speaker attribution, a number of typical satyric motifs can be detected. The non-polis setting is already evident in this seaside scene, which is common to many other satyr plays, e.g. Euripides’ Cyclops, set on the bleak and remote (from Athens) coastline of Sicily;²⁶ comparable, too, are the rural settings of Sophocles’ Trackers and Inachos, and the farmyard settings of Euripides’ Syleus (frr. 687–94), and Sositheus’ Daphnis or Lityerses (frr. 1a–3), set in Phrygia. Indeed, the agitated response of speaker A is in the same vein as that of Silenos early on in Euripides’ Cyclops when he spots Odysseus’ ship. Notably, the old satyr, whose agitation is evident to his sons, expresses sympathy for the new arrivals, who have no idea of the horrors that await them (Cyc. 84–93):

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Χο.… ἀτὰρ δὴ τίνα, πάτερ, σπουδὴν ἔχεις;
Σιλ.ὁρῶ πρὸς ἀκταῖς ναὸς Ἑλλάδος σκάφος	85
κώπης τ’ ἄνακτας σὺν στρατηλάτῃ τινὶ στείχοντας ἐς τόδ’ ἄντρον·

Χο.… ἀτὰρ δὴ τίνα, πάτερ, σπουδὴν ἔχεις;
Σιλ.ὁρῶ πρὸς ἀκταῖς ναὸς Ἑλλάδος σκάφος	85
κώπης τ’ ἄνακτας σὺν στρατηλάτῃ τινὶ στείχοντας ἐς τόδ’ ἄντρον·

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Χο.… ἀτὰρ δὴ τίνα, πάτερ, σπουδὴν ἔχεις;
Σιλ.ὁρῶ πρὸς ἀκταῖς ναὸς Ἑλλάδος σκάφος	85
κώπης τ’ ἄνακτας σὺν στρατηλάτῃ τινὶ στείχοντας ἐς τόδ’ ἄντρον·

Χο.… ἀτὰρ δὴ τίνα, πάτερ, σπουδὴν ἔχεις;
Σιλ.ὁρῶ πρὸς ἀκταῖς ναὸς Ἑλλάδος σκάφος	85
κώπης τ’ ἄνακτας σὺν στρατηλάτῃ τινὶ στείχοντας ἐς τόδ’ ἄντρον·

…

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ὦ ταλαίπωροι ξένοι·
τίνες ποτ’ εἰσίν; οὐκ ἴσασι δεσπότην	90
Πολύφημον οἷός ἐστιν ἄξενόν τε γῆν τήνδ’ ἐμβεβῶτες καὶ Κυκλωπίαν γνάθον τὴν ἀνδροβρῶτα δυστυχῶς ἀφιγμένοι.

ὦ ταλαίπωροι ξένοι·
τίνες ποτ’ εἰσίν; οὐκ ἴσασι δεσπότην	90
Πολύφημον οἷός ἐστιν ἄξενόν τε γῆν τήνδ’ ἐμβεβῶτες καὶ Κυκλωπίαν γνάθον τὴν ἀνδροβρῶτα δυστυχῶς ἀφιγμένοι.

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ὦ ταλαίπωροι ξένοι·
τίνες ποτ’ εἰσίν; οὐκ ἴσασι δεσπότην	90
Πολύφημον οἷός ἐστιν ἄξενόν τε γῆν τήνδ’ ἐμβεβῶτες καὶ Κυκλωπίαν γνάθον τὴν ἀνδροβρῶτα δυστυχῶς ἀφιγμένοι.

ὦ ταλαίπωροι ξένοι·
τίνες ποτ’ εἰσίν; οὐκ ἴσασι δεσπότην	90
Πολύφημον οἷός ἐστιν ἄξενόν τε γῆν τήνδ’ ἐμβεβῶτες καὶ Κυκλωπίαν γνάθον τὴν ἀνδροβρῶτα δυστυχῶς ἀφιγμένοι.

CHO: But what’s making you anxious, father?

SIL: I see a ship—a Greek ship—(85) and mighty oarsmen coming to this cave with someone who I suppose is their leader. … O unhappy strangers! Whoever are they? They have no idea what our master (90) Polyphemus is like, and that the land they have reached is hostile to strangers and that they have come, by an ill fate, right into the man-eating Cyclopean jaw.

In Euripides’ play Silenos’ sympathy turns out to be short-lived, as the old satyr sides with Polyphemos, falling out with his sons in the process (Cyc. 232–40, 250–52, 262–69, etc.). The excitable tone of speaker A in the Diktyoulkoi fragment certainly suits a character like Silenos, as does the fact that he seems to be in a somewhat subservient position when told to look out for any unusual sea-borne objects (fr. ∗∗46a.3–4).²⁷ These features of his characterization would suitably contrast with those of Dictys, who, as the figure who rescues Danae and Perseus, would be likely to be a more dignified stage presence. If, as seems probable, Silenos is the speaker (fr. ∗∗46a.8–21), it is possible that he, too, may have been initially well-intentioned before his predictable lechery took over when he first saw what or whom the chest contained.

In Diktyoulkoi the call for help to nearby rustic workers to haul in the chest (fr. ∗∗46a.18–20) parallels Apollo’s pronouncement in the prologue of Trackers (fr. 314. esp. 13–22, 39–44), when the god is seeking assistance in finding his stolen cattle. In Diktyoulkoi the chorus of satyrs are probably playing the role of the rustic workers who are addressed and would therefore most probably answer the call and rush in. Sophocles’ Trackers has the chorus act in similar fashion: they rush onstage in response to Apollo’s offer of a reward to anyone who helps him to find his stolen cattle; and in albeit fragmentary lines we catch something of their manic energy (64–78).²⁸ In Trackers (45–54) it is Silenos himself who has already come charging in ahead of his sons, having heard Apollo’s offer. In both Diktyoulkoi and Trackers another motif comes into play: the satyrs as manual workers and bumbling assistants, ill-suited to any task, consistent with their earliest known appearance in literature, Hesiod’s denunciation of them as ‘worthless and useless for work’ (fr. 10a.18 M-W). Euripides’ Cyclops has Silenos cleaning out the monster’s cave and depicts the chorus as disgruntled herdsmen (41–62); in Sophocles’ Inachos they were probably cowherds (cf. fr. ∗∗269c.8). Elsewhere in satyr plays the chorus are rustic or manual workers, such as wood gatherers (Soph. Herakles fr. 225) or smiths (Soph. Pandora/Hammerers frr. ∗∗482–86). In the Euripidean Syleus they will have been slaves on the ogre’s farm like Herakles; and in Sositheus’ Daphnis they were probably farm-labourers threatened by the overlord Lityerses, who functions much like the Euripidean Polyphemos (cf. Cyc. 203–19) or Syleus.²⁹

However, subsequent elements in our major fragment of Diktyoulkoi (fr. ∗∗47a.765–832) demonstrate a more malignant aspect to the satyrs’ onstage personae. This is not just evident in the extent of the fallout between Dictys and the satyrs, which results in Silenos’ outburst ὄλοιτο Δίκτυς (‘death to Dictys!’, 800); the satyrs’ transgressive nature is on display elsewhere, notably in Silenos’ words at 765–72:

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<ΣΙΛΗΝΟΣ> ]..[.].αν καὶ θεοὺς μαρτύρομαι	765
].παντὶ κηρύσσω στρατῷ ] †πανταπασι† ἀποφθάρῃς ].ουσα πρόξενόν θ’ ἅμ̣α ]..ου με καὶ προπράκτορα	769
].ε μαῖαν ὡς γερασμίαν ].. ἠπίοις προσφθέγμασιν ] traces ς ἐν χρόνῳ μενεῖ.

<ΣΙΛΗΝΟΣ> ]..[.].αν καὶ θεοὺς μαρτύρομαι	765
].παντὶ κηρύσσω στρατῷ ] †πανταπασι† ἀποφθάρῃς ].ουσα πρόξενόν θ’ ἅμ̣α ]..ου με καὶ προπράκτορα	769
].ε μαῖαν ὡς γερασμίαν ].. ἠπίοις προσφθέγμασιν ] traces ς ἐν χρόνῳ μενεῖ.

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<ΣΙΛΗΝΟΣ> ]..[.].αν καὶ θεοὺς μαρτύρομαι	765
].παντὶ κηρύσσω στρατῷ ] †πανταπασι† ἀποφθάρῃς ].ουσα πρόξενόν θ’ ἅμ̣α ]..ου με καὶ προπράκτορα	769
].ε μαῖαν ὡς γερασμίαν ].. ἠπίοις προσφθέγμασιν ] traces ς ἐν χρόνῳ μενεῖ.

<ΣΙΛΗΝΟΣ> ]..[.].αν καὶ θεοὺς μαρτύρομαι	765
].παντὶ κηρύσσω στρατῷ ] †πανταπασι† ἀποφθάρῃς ].ουσα πρόξενόν θ’ ἅμ̣α ]..ου με καὶ προπράκτορα	769
].ε μαῖαν ὡς γερασμίαν ].. ἠπίοις προσφθέγμασιν ] traces ς ἐν χρόνῳ μενεῖ.

<SILENOS?< … and I call upon the gods to witness … I proclaim to all people … (so that?) you (i.e. Danae or Perseus) (do not?) perish (from total starvation?) … me your sponsor … as well as your protector … like an elderly nurse … with gentle words of address … will remain over time.

Silenos presents himself as προπράκτορα (‘protector’) ³⁰ and avenger of any wrongs Danae and Perseus have suffered, just as elsewhere he fancies himself a great warrior when reminiscing about his alleged heroics in the gigantomachy as Dionysos’ right-hand man—a fantasy even he cannot bring himself to believe (Eur. Cyc. 5–8). The unctuous language used by Silenos here continues in his description of himself as a venerable, gently spoken old nurse, who, by implication, has only the wellbeing of the new arrivals at heart. The fact that the satyr has to announce that he is speaking with ‘gentle words of address’ (ἠπίοις προσφθέγμασιν) suggests that his message is not coming across and that his overtures are comically off-key. Euripides’ Cyclops again provides a noteworthy parallel to Silenos’ implausible attempt to persuade someone of his good intentions, all the while lying through his teeth. When defending himself against charges of selling Polyphemos’ food and equipment to Odysseus and his men, the satyr swears a false oath full of hyperbole and bathos (Eur. Cyc. 262–68). Just as the Aeschylean Silenos begins to make his claim on Danae by calling on the gods as his witnesses (θεοὺς μαρτύρομαι, 765), Euripides’ Silenos begins his oath by invoking figures from gods such as Poseidon to ‘the entire race of fishes’; fawning before his monstrous overlord, the old satyr addresses him in absurd diminutives as ὦ κάλλιστον, ὦ Κυκλώπιον, | ὦ δεσποτίσκε (‘O my most handsome little Cyclops, O my darling little master’, Eur. Cyc. 266–67).

That it is Silenos, as opposed to Dictys, who speaks lines 765–72 in Diktyoulkoi is confirmed in Danae’s alarmed response at 773–85:

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]… καὶ γενέθλιοι θεοί ]..ας τάσδε μοι πόνων τιθείς·	774
τ]οῖσδε κνωδάλοις με δώσετε ]…γοισι λυμανθήσομαι αἰχ]μάλωτος οὖσ’ οἴσω κακά. ].αιγουν ἀγχόνην ἄρ’ ἅψομαι ]ας τεμοῦσα κωλυτήριον	779
]ως μὴ ποντίσῃ τις αὖ πάλιν ]της ἢ πατήρ̣· δέδοικα γάρ. ]πεμπ’ ἀρωγόν, εἰ δοκεῖ, τινα. ]εῖχες αἰτίας τῆς μείζονος ]ν δὲ πᾶσαν ἐξέτεισ’ ἐγὼ	784
]ευς ἔλεξα. πάντ’ ἔχει[ς] λόγον.

]… καὶ γενέθλιοι θεοί ]..ας τάσδε μοι πόνων τιθείς·	774
τ]οῖσδε κνωδάλοις με δώσετε ]…γοισι λυμανθήσομαι αἰχ]μάλωτος οὖσ’ οἴσω κακά. ].αιγουν ἀγχόνην ἄρ’ ἅψομαι ]ας τεμοῦσα κωλυτήριον	779
]ως μὴ ποντίσῃ τις αὖ πάλιν ]της ἢ πατήρ̣· δέδοικα γάρ. ]πεμπ’ ἀρωγόν, εἰ δοκεῖ, τινα. ]εῖχες αἰτίας τῆς μείζονος ]ν δὲ πᾶσαν ἐξέτεισ’ ἐγὼ	784
]ευς ἔλεξα. πάντ’ ἔχει[ς] λόγον.

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]… καὶ γενέθλιοι θεοί ]..ας τάσδε μοι πόνων τιθείς·	774
τ]οῖσδε κνωδάλοις με δώσετε ]…γοισι λυμανθήσομαι αἰχ]μάλωτος οὖσ’ οἴσω κακά. ].αιγουν ἀγχόνην ἄρ’ ἅψομαι ]ας τεμοῦσα κωλυτήριον	779
]ως μὴ ποντίσῃ τις αὖ πάλιν ]της ἢ πατήρ̣· δέδοικα γάρ. ]πεμπ’ ἀρωγόν, εἰ δοκεῖ, τινα. ]εῖχες αἰτίας τῆς μείζονος ]ν δὲ πᾶσαν ἐξέτεισ’ ἐγὼ	784
]ευς ἔλεξα. πάντ’ ἔχει[ς] λόγον.

]… καὶ γενέθλιοι θεοί ]..ας τάσδε μοι πόνων τιθείς·	774
τ]οῖσδε κνωδάλοις με δώσετε ]…γοισι λυμανθήσομαι αἰχ]μάλωτος οὖσ’ οἴσω κακά. ].αιγουν ἀγχόνην ἄρ’ ἅψομαι ]ας τεμοῦσα κωλυτήριον	779
]ως μὴ ποντίσῃ τις αὖ πάλιν ]της ἢ πατήρ̣· δέδοικα γάρ. ]πεμπ’ ἀρωγόν, εἰ δοκεῖ, τινα. ]εῖχες αἰτίας τῆς μείζονος ]ν δὲ πᾶσαν ἐξέτεισ’ ἐγὼ	784
]ευς ἔλεξα. πάντ’ ἔχει[ς] λόγον.

<DANAE> … and gods of my ancestors … (putting?) these … of ordeals on me. (10) … and you will give me to these brutes … I shall be abused … as a prisoner I shall endure … evil. … I shall … in that case fasten up a noose … devising prevention …. (15) … (so that?) no … or my father may ever drown me again. For I’m afraid! … send someone to help, please, (Zeus)! … you had (a share in?) the greater responsibility … but I have paid the whole (penalty?) … (20) … I have spoken; you have my whole speech.

These words can hardly be a response to a speech by Dictys³¹ and the appearance of τ]οῖσδε κνωδάλοις (‘these brutes’) and general tone of Danae’s speech make it clear that she is reacting to the presence of the satyrs as well as Silenos in fear and desperation (δέδοικα γάρ, 781). The satyric chorus are similarly called ‘beasts’ (θῆρες) in Euripides’ Cyclops (624) by an exasperated Odysseus, by their own father in Trackers (147; cf. 151), and by an indignant Cyllene, nurse of the infant Hermes, who berates the satyrs for all the noise they are making (221–22). Later, Cyllene finds herself surrounded by masturbating satyrs (368), but is in no way threatened by such behaviour. Instead, she maintains her authoritative and somewhat school ma’am-ish persona and continues to castigate the satyrs for their goat-like, juvenile antics and for their accusations—which happen to be entirely correct, of course—that Hermes has stolen Apollo’s cattle (366–70):

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ἀ[λλ’] αἰὲν εἶ σὺ παῖς· νέος γὰρ ὢν ἀνὴρ π[ώγ]ωνι θάλλων ὡς τράγος κνηκῷ χλιδᾷς. παύου τὸ λεῖον φαλακρὸν ἡδονῇ πιτνάς· ο]ὐκ ἐκ θεῶν τὰ μ̣ῶρ̣α καὶ γέλοια χρὴ χ]ανόντα κλαίειν ὕστερ’, ὡς ἐγὼ γελῶ.

370

ἀ[λλ’] αἰὲν εἶ σὺ παῖς· νέος γὰρ ὢν ἀνὴρ π[ώγ]ωνι θάλλων ὡς τράγος κνηκῷ χλιδᾷς. παύου τὸ λεῖον φαλακρὸν ἡδονῇ πιτνάς· ο]ὐκ ἐκ θεῶν τὰ μ̣ῶρ̣α καὶ γέλοια χρὴ χ]ανόντα κλαίειν ὕστερ’, ὡς ἐγὼ γελῶ.

370

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ἀ[λλ’] αἰὲν εἶ σὺ παῖς· νέος γὰρ ὢν ἀνὴρ π[ώγ]ωνι θάλλων ὡς τράγος κνηκῷ χλιδᾷς. παύου τὸ λεῖον φαλακρὸν ἡδονῇ πιτνάς· ο]ὐκ ἐκ θεῶν τὰ μ̣ῶρ̣α καὶ γέλοια χρὴ χ]ανόντα κλαίειν ὕστερ’, ὡς ἐγὼ γελῶ.

370

ἀ[λλ’] αἰὲν εἶ σὺ παῖς· νέος γὰρ ὢν ἀνὴρ π[ώγ]ωνι θάλλων ὡς τράγος κνηκῷ χλιδᾷς. παύου τὸ λεῖον φαλακρὸν ἡδονῇ πιτνάς· ο]ὐκ ἐκ θεῶν τὰ μ̣ῶρ̣α καὶ γέλοια χρὴ χ]ανόντα κλαίειν ὕστερ’, ὡς ἐγὼ γελῶ.

370

You’ve always been a child, however: now you’re new to manhood you’re rampant like a goat with a flourishing yellow beard! Stop making that smooth knob longer in pleasure! It’s wrong to blurt out stupid and ridiculous things, and to suffer for them later at the gods’ hands, to make me laugh.

Since her first appearance she has intimidated them with her overbearing presence; in a grand periphrasis redolent of Homer (Il. 9.351, etc.) or Pindar (fr. 29.4) the satyrs address Cyllene as ‘Queen of this place, mighty Cyllene’ (τόπων ἄνασσα τῶν[δ]ε, Κυλλήνης σθένος, Tr. 258) and more than once they ask her not to become angry or attack them (243–47,³² 336–37). This moment of her being confronted by masturbating satyrs is, instead, a typical case of the incongruous humour of satyr play, which juxtaposes a (comically) dignified or pompous figure with the buffoonery of the chorus; in this Cyllene is much like Tragedy being compelled to dance among the satyrs in Horace’s allegory for the relation between satyr play and tragedy as genres (Ars Po. 231–33).

In Diktyoulkoi, by contrast, Danae sees herself as genuinely threatened; she calls herself a ‘prisoner’, literally ‘someone taken by the spear’ (αἰχ]μάλωτος), who will suffer the outrages (λυμανθήσομαι … οἴσω κακά) all too often meted out to female prisoners of war, a theme Aeschylus explores elsewhere in his tragedies. Danae’s intention to hang herself aligns her with the Danaids who in Aeschylus’ Suppliants make the same threat to avoid a forced marriage to their Egyptian cousins (Suppl. 788). Danae also shares much with other women in Aeschylean dramas who have suffered male sexual aggression. Notable among these is Io, another abandoned victim of Zeus’ lust (Prometheus Bound 561–886, esp. 577–81; cf. 736–40). Just as Danae is confronted by the prospect of rape by bestial figures, in Aeschylus’ Suppliants—another drama in which women resist an unwanted sexual union—we hear that Zeus took bestial form when raping Io (Suppl. 301).³³ In the Seven Against Thebes (109–15, 321–68) the chorus of terrified female citizens dwell on the sexual violence and slavery that befall women when their city falls.³⁴ The prospect of women suffering rape is a notable theme powerfully explored in Aeschylus’ tragedies and here Danae’s plight need not be considered trivial merely because it appears in a satyr play. We know, of course, that Danae will escape the ordeal she fears, just as we know that Odysseus in Cyclops will punish Polyphemos for his crimes and escape with (most of) his men. However, these outcomes do not negate the malignant intentions of the satyrs and Polyphemos in their respective dramas.

The seriousness of Danae’s speech is evident in its style as well as content. Lesky and Conrad detected a forensic tone at the end of Danae’s speech (πάντ’ ἔχει[ς] λόγον) (‘you have my full speech’) that parallels the herald’s words in Aeschylus’ Agamemnon (582) announcing the victory at Troy and the Mycenaean king’s imminent return.³⁵ Moreover, much in the tenor of her speech overall would make it well suited to a tragic rhêsis, just as the Euripidean Odysseus’ plea to Polyphemos to observe the laws of hospitality not only recalls Homer (Od. 9.266–71) but contains moments of tragic solemnity in referring to the sufferings of the Greeks at Troy (Cyc. 304–07):

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ἅλις δὲ Πριάμου γαῖ’ ἐχήρωσ’ Ἑλλάδα πολλῶν νεκρῶν πιοῦσα δοριπετῆ φόνον ἀλόχους τ’ ἀνάνδρους γραῦς τ’ ἄπαιδας ὤλεσεν πολιούς τε πατέρας.

305

ἅλις δὲ Πριάμου γαῖ’ ἐχήρωσ’ Ἑλλάδα πολλῶν νεκρῶν πιοῦσα δοριπετῆ φόνον ἀλόχους τ’ ἀνάνδρους γραῦς τ’ ἄπαιδας ὤλεσεν πολιούς τε πατέρας.

305

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ἅλις δὲ Πριάμου γαῖ’ ἐχήρωσ’ Ἑλλάδα πολλῶν νεκρῶν πιοῦσα δοριπετῆ φόνον ἀλόχους τ’ ἀνάνδρους γραῦς τ’ ἄπαιδας ὤλεσεν πολιούς τε πατέρας.

305

ἅλις δὲ Πριάμου γαῖ’ ἐχήρωσ’ Ἑλλάδα πολλῶν νεκρῶν πιοῦσα δοριπετῆ φόνον ἀλόχους τ’ ἀνάνδρους γραῦς τ’ ἄπαιδας ὤλεσεν πολιούς τε πατέρας.

305

The land of Priam has made Greece bereft enough as it is, having drunk many corpses’ blood that was shed by the spear, (305) and has destroyed wives left without their husbands and made old women and grey-haired fathers childless.

Odysseus speaks of the carnage and pain caused by the Trojan War, notably the sorrow of parents and loved ones bereft of sons and husbands—themes explored in tragedies by Aeschylus (Ag. 326–29, 430–57, etc.) and Euripides (Hec. 322–25, etc.); he even uses the same tragic imagery when speaking of the earth as drinking the blood of the slain, a motif that occurs in Aeschylus’ Seven Against Thebes (e.g., 48, 734–38). Like Danae’s appeal, Odysseus’ speech is dramatically effective when not dismissed as comically inept,³⁶ as its pathos increases the villainy of Polyphemos, who remains brutally unmoved by what he has heard. The chorus’ revulsion and horror at the monster’s cannibalism strongly underscore the malignance of his nature and assert the satyrs’ sympathy with Odysseus and his men (Cyc. 356–74).³⁷ So, too, in taking Danae’s speech at face value and noting the parallels with other female victims of sexual violence in tragedy, we can see that the intentions of Silenos and his sons in Diktyoulkoi emerge as all the more sinister and menacing.³⁸ These Aeschylean satyrs, then, are comparable with Euripides’ Polyphemos, even if they do not commit the same crimes as the monster does, which include not only cannibalism but also rape (Cyc. 582–89). As a corollary, the satyrs of Diktyoulkoi probably parallel in a general sense the persona of Polydectes—who also intended to subject the hero’s mother to a life of sexual servitude—especially if this satyr play was part of the same tetralogy that dealt with the same story.

Beyond tragedy, one of the most telling parallels to Danae’s perilous situation comes from Simonides (PMG 543). A comparison with Simonides’ albeit fragmentary account of Danae’s plight is instructive in highlighting the seriousness of her situation in Diktyoulkoi, since the Aeschylean Danae’s speech is more desperate and even defiant than that of her Simonidean counterpart. Simonides has the young mother speak to her sleeping child, who is thus oblivious of the dangers they face at sea, while she also addresses Zeus, meekly asking him to have a change of heart and rescue them (PMG 543.18–27):

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εἰ δέ τοι δεινὸν τό γε δεινὸν ἦν, καί κεν ἐμῶν ῥημάτων λεπτὸν ὑπεῖχες οὖας.	20
κέλομαι δ’, εὗδε βρέφος, εὑδέτω δὲ πόντος, εὑδέτω δ’ ἄμετρον κακόν· μεταβουλία δέ τις φανείη, Ζεῦ πάτερ, ἐκ σέο· ὅττι δὲ θαρσαλέον ἔπος εὔχομαι	25
ἢ νόσφι δίκας, σύγγνωθί μοι.

εἰ δέ τοι δεινὸν τό γε δεινὸν ἦν, καί κεν ἐμῶν ῥημάτων λεπτὸν ὑπεῖχες οὖας.	20
κέλομαι δ’, εὗδε βρέφος, εὑδέτω δὲ πόντος, εὑδέτω δ’ ἄμετρον κακόν· μεταβουλία δέ τις φανείη, Ζεῦ πάτερ, ἐκ σέο· ὅττι δὲ θαρσαλέον ἔπος εὔχομαι	25
ἢ νόσφι δίκας, σύγγνωθί μοι.

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εἰ δέ τοι δεινὸν τό γε δεινὸν ἦν, καί κεν ἐμῶν ῥημάτων λεπτὸν ὑπεῖχες οὖας.	20
κέλομαι δ’, εὗδε βρέφος, εὑδέτω δὲ πόντος, εὑδέτω δ’ ἄμετρον κακόν· μεταβουλία δέ τις φανείη, Ζεῦ πάτερ, ἐκ σέο· ὅττι δὲ θαρσαλέον ἔπος εὔχομαι	25
ἢ νόσφι δίκας, σύγγνωθί μοι.

εἰ δέ τοι δεινὸν τό γε δεινὸν ἦν, καί κεν ἐμῶν ῥημάτων λεπτὸν ὑπεῖχες οὖας.	20
κέλομαι δ’, εὗδε βρέφος, εὑδέτω δὲ πόντος, εὑδέτω δ’ ἄμετρον κακόν· μεταβουλία δέ τις φανείη, Ζεῦ πάτερ, ἐκ σέο· ὅττι δὲ θαρσαλέον ἔπος εὔχομαι	25
ἢ νόσφι δίκας, σύγγνωθί μοι.

If the danger were danger to you, why, you would turn your tiny ear to my words. Sleep, my baby, I tell you; and let the sea sleep, and let our vast trouble sleep. May some change of heart appear from you, Zeus father. If anything in my prayer is audacious or unjust, forgive me.

Some have briefly noted parallels between this lyric fragment and Danae’s words in Diktyoulkoi, but recently Kousoulini has seen the Simonidean poem as a ‘literary’ lullaby, which she discusses in the context of Silenos’ so-called ‘lullaby’ to Perseus (786–820) rather than comparing it to Danae’s speech.³⁹ In any case, Simonides emphasizes the girl’s isolation and vulnerability while she addresses her sleeping son and meekly offers up a prayer to Zeus, even asking for forgiveness if her request is audacious (θαρσαλέον) or unjust (νόσφι δίκας). As she is still literally at sea, Simonides’ Danae does not face the immediate prospect of rape, unlike her Aeschylean counterpart, and this highlights the difference in tone between the two depictions of her plight. The Simonidean Danae is less assertive in her pleas, as the subjunctives indicate: εὑδέτω δὲ πόντος, εὑδέτω δ’ ἄμετρον κακόν· (‘let the sea sleep, and let our vast trouble sleep’); similarly, an optative conveys a similar tone of longing and wishful thinking: μεταβουλία δέ τις φανείη | Ζεῦ πάτερ, ἐκ σέο (‘May there appear some change of heart appear from you, Zeus father’).

Yet in Diktyoulkoi there is not only a sense of desperation in Danae’s words, but also defiance, as she clearly knows whom to blame for her troubles. She appears to think that her ancestral gods will hand her over to the ‘brutes’ (γενέθλιοι θεοί | … τ]οῖσδε κνωδάλοις με δώσετε); in a bold imperative, modified only slightly by εἰ δοκεῖ, she calls out for (presumably) Zeus to send ‘any helper’ (πεμπ’ ἀρωγόν … τινα), the indefinite τινα emphasizing her desperation. Her defiance is evident as she holds even the supreme god to account, just as Io blames Zeus for her ongoing persecution from the gadfly after being raped (PV 577–81; cf. 736–40). Danae points out that she has had to pay the full penalty for the god’s actions (πᾶσαν ἐξέτεισ’ ἐγώ), even though he has greater responsibility for her plight: ]εῖχες αἰτίας τῆς μείζονος | ]-Hyperlink CharOverride-11>ν δὲ πᾶσαν ἐξέτεισ’ ἐγώ. Finally, unlike her Simonidean counterpart, who seems concerned that her request for help might offend, Aeschylus’ Danae remains resolute, as if resting her case in a forensic speech: ἔλεξα. πάντ’ ἔχει[ς] λόγον (‘I have spoken; you have my whole speech’). There is no direct challenge here to the authority and status of Zeus, as appears in Odysseus’ desperate plea for help (Eur. Cyc. 353–55), but Danae’s firm conclusion to her speech in Diktyoulkoi gives it a different tone from her words in Simonides’ treatment and emphasizes the seriousness of her plight. Her speech can be seen to raise ethical questions not only about the actions of Zeus, Polydectes, and her father Akrisios, but also the satyrs themselves.⁴⁰

When the rest of our text (786–832) is read in the context of Danae’s impassioned protest, the menacing presence of the satyrs emerges all the more forcefully, for Aeschylus now reiterates the role of Silenos as self-proclaimed protector of Danae and doting nurse to Perseus (cf. 765–72) and applies it to the chorus as well, thus incorporating—but also undermining—the satyrs’ normally benign role as caregivers in satyric drama.⁴¹ Silenos notices that the infant laughs when looking at the satyr’s bright-red φαλακρόν (788). While φαλακρόν can mean bald head (e.g., Eur. Cyc. 227) and satyrs themselves in art are frequently bald or balding, here ‘knob’, i.e., the tip of a penis, is meant, as is confirmed by what the old satyr says of Perseus: ποσθοφιλὴς ὁ νεοσσός (‘the youngster loves a little prick’).⁴² However, the mood changes somewhat with the satyr’s exclamation ὄλοιτο Δίκτυς (‘death to Dictys!’) if he (Silenos) does not rejoice in the young Perseus.⁴³ Evidently, the old satyr is having a difficult time convincing those around him of his supposedly benign intentions; and the reference to the satyr’s ‘catch’ here (τᾶσδέ … ἄγρας) reminds us again that his real interest lies in molesting Danae, whom he views as his prey.

Silenos continues in the ensuing strophe,⁴⁴ however ineptly, to play the role of the would-be caregiver to the boy (802–11):

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ὦ φίντων, ἴθι δε[ῦρο·	στρ.
between 802 and 804 πο]ππυσμός (stage-direction) θάρσει δή· τί κινύρῃ;	804
δεῦρ’ ἐς παῖδας ἴωμεν ωσ.[ ἵξῃ παιδοτρόφους ἐμά[ς, ὦ φίλος, χέρας εὐμενεῖς, τέρψῃ δ’ ἴκτισι κα[ὶ] νεβρο[ῖς ὑστρίχων τ’ ὀβρίχοισ[ι] κοιμάσῃ δὲ τρίτος ξὺν ματρὶ [καὶ π]ατρὶ τῷδε.	809

ὦ φίντων, ἴθι δε[ῦρο·	στρ.
between 802 and 804 πο]ππυσμός (stage-direction) θάρσει δή· τί κινύρῃ;	804
δεῦρ’ ἐς παῖδας ἴωμεν ωσ.[ ἵξῃ παιδοτρόφους ἐμά[ς, ὦ φίλος, χέρας εὐμενεῖς, τέρψῃ δ’ ἴκτισι κα[ὶ] νεβρο[ῖς ὑστρίχων τ’ ὀβρίχοισ[ι] κοιμάσῃ δὲ τρίτος ξὺν ματρὶ [καὶ π]ατρὶ τῷδε.	809

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ὦ φίντων, ἴθι δε[ῦρο·	στρ.
between 802 and 804 πο]ππυσμός (stage-direction) θάρσει δή· τί κινύρῃ;	804
δεῦρ’ ἐς παῖδας ἴωμεν ωσ.[ ἵξῃ παιδοτρόφους ἐμά[ς, ὦ φίλος, χέρας εὐμενεῖς, τέρψῃ δ’ ἴκτισι κα[ὶ] νεβρο[ῖς ὑστρίχων τ’ ὀβρίχοισ[ι] κοιμάσῃ δὲ τρίτος ξὺν ματρὶ [καὶ π]ατρὶ τῷδε.	809

ὦ φίντων, ἴθι δε[ῦρο·	στρ.
between 802 and 804 πο]ππυσμός (stage-direction) θάρσει δή· τί κινύρῃ;	804
δεῦρ’ ἐς παῖδας ἴωμεν ωσ.[ ἵξῃ παιδοτρόφους ἐμά[ς, ὦ φίλος, χέρας εὐμενεῖς, τέρψῃ δ’ ἴκτισι κα[ὶ] νεβρο[ῖς ὑστρίχων τ’ ὀβρίχοισ[ι] κοιμάσῃ δὲ τρίτος ξὺν ματρὶ [καὶ π]ατρὶ τῷδε.	809

O my little darling, come (here). (Silenos makes a clucking sound) Be brave! Why are you moaning? Let’s go over here to my boys, (so?) you can come (at once?) to my nurturing, kindly arms, my dear, and delight in martens and fawns and baby porcupines, and make three in a bed with your mother and father here.

This moment includes a rare stage direction: πο]ππυσμός (a ‘clucking sound’), designed presumably to amuse or distract the infant hero.⁴⁵ In this instance, the sound has backfired, or at least added to the distress of the child, since Silenos then tells him to be brave (θάρσει δή·)—colloquially we could even translate this as ‘Toughen up!’—and then asks Perseus why he is ‘moaning’ (τί κινύρῃ, 804). The old satyr repeats the incongruous notion of himself as a benign protector in referring to ‘my nurturing […] kindly arms’ (παιδοτρόφους ἐμά[ς, | χέρας εὐμενεῖς, 806–07; cf. 768–72). He now conjures up a bucolic picture in which the boy will ‘delight in’ baby animals such as fawns and porcupines and share a bed with his mother and Silenos, his new ‘father’, in a future vision of supposed domestic bliss (807–11).

The fantasizing continues in the antistrophe, which could be sung by the chorus or just as plausibly by Silenos, since we find the same imagery about Perseus’ mother and his ‘papa’ (πάππα[ς).⁴⁶ If Silenos sings, then interesting possibilities for satyric humor follow. The old satyr imagines himself as the boy’s ‘papa’, nourishing him and giving him ‘fun’ (τὰ γελ[οῖ]α); after this he hopes the boy will grow to be a hunter of fawns and wild beasts and provide feasts for his mother and other satyrs—now glossed as his ‘kinsmen’ (κ]ηδεστῶν), while Perseus becomes their ‘foster-brother’ (ξύ]ντροφος) (812–20). This is not only comically incongruous; it also playfully reworks grander, heroic themes, for here Silenos implicitly likens himself to the venerable tutor of heroes, Cheiron, called by Homer the most ‘civilized’ (δικαιότατος) of centaurs, who famously taught the young Achilles (Il. 11.831–32). Pindar emphasises (Nem. 3.43–53) that Achilles, during his time with Cheiron, was a renowned hunter, just as Silenos hopes Perseus will become. Sophocles’ satyric Lovers of Achilles (frr. 149–57) not only depicted Achilles as another figure, like Danae, who was ludicrously desired by the satyrs; it also evidently referred to his youthful prowess as a hunter, most likely under the tutelage of Cheiron.⁴⁷

Silenos’ inane fantasies here demonstrate that nothing in Danae’s speech has registered with him or with the other satyrs at all. This satyric capacity for cheerful self-delusion occurs elsewhere in Aeschylean satyr drama, such as his Sacred Delegates (a.k.a. Theoroi, fr. ∗∗78a 10–17, esp. 12; 19–21). The notoriously ugly satyrs admire crafted images of themselves as ‘a beautifully painted offering’ (καλλίγραπτον εὐχάν) and as having a ‘beautiful form’ (κ[α]λῆς μορφῆς). Yet, even in Sacred Delegates the satyrs’ self-delusion is tempered by a self-awareness of sorts; they seem to acknowledge their own ugliness by realizing that such objects would horrify their mother and turn away travellers—hence their decision to attach them to the temple of Poseidon as apotropaic images.⁴⁸ However, in Diktyoulkoi there is no concession to the awful prospect that he (or his sons) must present to Danae, as far as the satyrs are concerned. On the contrary, in the remainder of fr. ∗∗47a, which is in anapaests and therefore suited to a chorus (while also possibly being shared with Silenos),⁴⁹ the satyrs—father and sons—see themselves as perfectly ready to engage in the rites of Aphrodite with the hapless young woman (821–32):

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< – ?> ἄλλ’] εἷα, φίλοι, στείχωμεν ὅπως γά]μον ὁρμαίνωμεν, ἐπεὶ τέλεος καιρὸς ἄναυδος τάδ’ ἐπαινεῖ. καὶ τήνδ’ [ἐ]σορῶ νύμφην ἤδη

824

< – ?> ἄλλ’] εἷα, φίλοι, στείχωμεν ὅπως γά]μον ὁρμαίνωμεν, ἐπεὶ τέλεος καιρὸς ἄναυδος τάδ’ ἐπαινεῖ. καὶ τήνδ’ [ἐ]σορῶ νύμφην ἤδη

824

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< – ?> ἄλλ’] εἷα, φίλοι, στείχωμεν ὅπως γά]μον ὁρμαίνωμεν, ἐπεὶ τέλεος καιρὸς ἄναυδος τάδ’ ἐπαινεῖ. καὶ τήνδ’ [ἐ]σορῶ νύμφην ἤδη

824

< – ?> ἄλλ’] εἷα, φίλοι, στείχωμεν ὅπως γά]μον ὁρμαίνωμεν, ἐπεὶ τέλεος καιρὸς ἄναυδος τάδ’ ἐπαινεῖ. καὶ τήνδ’ [ἐ]σορῶ νύμφην ἤδη

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πάνυ βουλομένην τῆς ἡμετέρας φιλότητος ἅδην κορέσασθαι. < – ?> καὶ θαῦμ’ οὐδέν· πολὺς ἦν αὐτῇ χρόνος ὃν χήρα κατὰ ναῦν ὕφαλος τείρετο· νῦν δ’ οὖν ἐ]σορῶσ’ ἥβην τὴν ἡμετέραν …]ει γάνυται νυμφίον [ο]ἷον …]σιν λαμπραῖς τῆς Ἀ[φ]ροδίτης…

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πάνυ βουλομένην τῆς ἡμετέρας φιλότητος ἅδην κορέσασθαι. < – ?> καὶ θαῦμ’ οὐδέν· πολὺς ἦν αὐτῇ χρόνος ὃν χήρα κατὰ ναῦν ὕφαλος τείρετο· νῦν δ’ οὖν ἐ]σορῶσ’ ἥβην τὴν ἡμετέραν …]ει γάνυται νυμφίον [ο]ἷον …]σιν λαμπραῖς τῆς Ἀ[φ]ροδίτης…

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πάνυ βουλομένην τῆς ἡμετέρας φιλότητος ἅδην κορέσασθαι. < – ?> καὶ θαῦμ’ οὐδέν· πολὺς ἦν αὐτῇ χρόνος ὃν χήρα κατὰ ναῦν ὕφαλος τείρετο· νῦν δ’ οὖν ἐ]σορῶσ’ ἥβην τὴν ἡμετέραν …]ει γάνυται νυμφίον [ο]ἷον …]σιν λαμπραῖς τῆς Ἀ[φ]ροδίτης…

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πάνυ βουλομένην τῆς ἡμετέρας φιλότητος ἅδην κορέσασθαι. < – ?> καὶ θαῦμ’ οὐδέν· πολὺς ἦν αὐτῇ χρόνος ὃν χήρα κατὰ ναῦν ὕφαλος τείρετο· νῦν δ’ οὖν ἐ]σορῶσ’ ἥβην τὴν ἡμετέραν …]ει γάνυται νυμφίον [ο]ἷον …]σιν λαμπραῖς τῆς Ἀ[φ]ροδίτης…

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(But) come on now, my dears, let’s all move off so we get the marriage going, since the moment for the rite commands (it) without speaking, and I already see my bride here absolutely wanting her fill and more of my love.

And no wonder! She had a long time on the water in her ship without a man, fretting away; but now she’s looking at my manhood […] she’s happy with a groom such as […] in the brilliant (delights?) of Aphrodite…

Lechery is, of course, a standard feature of satyrs, most evident in their ithyphallic status in visual depictions and their onstage costumes.⁵⁰ Numerous satyr plays depict Silenos and the chorus anticipating, fantasizing or bragging about sexual exploits;⁵¹ and in some other dramas the satyrs probably desired figures on stage: apart from Sophocles’ Lovers of Achilles, in his Hammerers they probably lusted after Pandora, making their lechery part of the dramatic action, as it is in Diktyoulkoi.⁵² In some plays they may even have toyed with the idea of ‘marrying’ the figure whom they lust after, such as Helen in Sophocles’ satyric Marriage of Helen (frr. 181–84) and the comic Dionysalexandros by Cratinus. Marriage is what they desire in Diktyoulkoi, as they talk of moving off so they can ‘get the marriage rite going’ (στείχωμεν ὅπως | γά]μον ὁρμαίνωμεν, 821–22), a motif some have seen as a parody of the hieros gamos or ‘sacred marriage’ of figures such as Zeus and Hera.⁵³

The satyrs’ fantasies continue with the delusion that their desires are reciprocated, since they claim to see their bride as ‘absolutely wanting her fill and more of my love’ (βουλομένην τῆς ἡμετέρας | φιλότητος ἅδην κορέσασθαι, 824–26). Silenos—or the chorus speaking collectively—even imagines that Danae is ogling him—‘now she’s looking at my manhood’ (ἐ]σορῶσ’ ἥβην τὴν ἡμετέραν)—and joyfully anticipating the delights of Aphrodite with such a bride-groom (γάνυται νυμφίον [ο]ἷον | …]σιν λαμπραῖς τῆς Ἀ[φ]ροδίτης (830–32). If Silenos is the speaker here, the emphasis on his supposed youth (ἥβην) adds to the absurdity of his claim, as the actor would be wearing a padded costume to denote a paunch, and a mask with white hair and beard as signs of age.⁵⁴ The old satyr thus makes himself the victim of a sight gag that would work equally well if his sons were the speakers, since their notorious ugliness would undermine any claims they make to being desirable figures. This satyric self-delusion occurs in other Aeschylean satyr dramas (Prom. Fire-Kindler fr. 204b 4–5), in which the chorus imagine women are pursuing them! Sophocles, too, has Silenos ludicrously see himself as a stud who has left a series of erotic conquests in his wake, as he brags that he is the kind of father (Trackers 154–55) οὗ πόλλ’ ἐφ’ ἥβης μνήματ’ ἀνδρείας ὕπο | κ[ε]ῖται παρ’ οἴκοις νυμφικοῖς ἠσκημένα (‘who in his prime through his manhood left many memorials fashioned in nymphs’ dwellings!’).⁵⁵ The corollary of this absurd narcissism for the satyrs is that Danae is all the more eager for amorous activity due to her enforced abstinence from sex while adrift at sea. Like Helen, whom the satyrs elsewhere describe as a ‘traitor’ who delights in having numerous sexual partners (Eur. Cyc. 179–82), Danae, in the satyrs’ lecherous imagination, must simply be yearning for sex, at least with Silenos, if not the rest of them. While such fantasizing and lechery are the stock-in-trade of what one could call a satyric Weltanschauung, essentially these desires come to nothing, so to speak, on the satyric stage. Thus, on this level Diktyoulkoi may seem unremarkable. However, it is the context in which this trope of satyric lechery appears that makes it disturbing, since it undermines the satyrs’ frequent role as caregivers and emerges as their real motive in showing any interest in Perseus at all. In this last substantial fragment of Diktyoulkoi (786–832) the satyrs’ so-called fondness for the young Perseus is framed by their desire to rape his mother.

Conclusion

Our fragments of Diktyoulkoi suggest that the satyrs—Silenos and the chorus—were more central to the action of the play than they usually were in the genre. The lechery, prurience, and self-aggrandizement of the satyrs are entirely consistent with Silenos and the chorus elsewhere in satyr drama, but these features are taken further in Diktyoulkoi to the point at which one can plausibly talk of the sustained malice of the satyrs in the play. Silenos and the chorus can thus be read as fulfilling the role of the ogre of the piece, a role they do not seem to have played elsewhere, with the probable exception of Aeschylus’ Amymone. Silenos and his sons wish to force Danae into a marriage that is nothing short of a licence to rape, consistent with Polydectes’ wishes in the mythic tradition and, very probably, in tragedies by Aeschylus and Euripides. The pathos in the speech by Danae underscores the seriousness of her plight, making her comparable to other women in Aeschylean and other tragedies who have suffered or face the prospect of rape, such as the chorus of his Suppliants, Io in Prometheus Bound, or Cassandra in Agamemnon. For their passion and defiance, Danae’s words are also strikingly poignant when read in the context of the speech given to her by Simonides, which is milder in tone. Danae’s speech is crucial in emphasizing the darker elements of the play.

Further points of difference between Diktyoulkoi and other satyr plays are evident. If, in Euripides’ Cyclops, Sophocles’ Trackers, and other satyr plays, Silenos falls out with his sons, we see no sign of any such rift in Diktyoulkoi. Rather, the satyrs seem to enjoy a unanimity with their father that appears to be rare for the genre. This adds to their collective menace and heightens the vulnerability and isolation of Danae and Perseus. The chorus and their father act from the same lecherous motivations, especially in the injunction addressed to φίλοι (‘my dears’, 821); if coming from Silenos, this kind of address is far removed from his normal way of speaking to his sons. Indeed, the commonality of purpose between satyric father and sons in our major fragment is underscored by the fact that there is now broad (if not universal) scholarly consensus that the voice parts of lines 786–832, however they are distributed, are shared between Silenos and the chorus. Whatever the uncertainties that remain concerning line distribution, they do not undermine the overall reading proposed here, which has focused on the generally transgressive nature of the satyrs, embodied alike in Silenos and the chorus. Father and sons speak with one voice and even mutual support. It is difficult to see any ‘aura of light romanticism’ in our fragments of the play; nor need we consider that the malignant intentions of the satyrs would be universally celebrated and endorsed by the audience at its first performance. Even if we view Silenos’ words at lines 802–20 as a parody of something as seemingly innocuous as a ‘lullaby’, it is one that is decidedly off-key and comes from a monster who himself is far from ‘harmless’. The intent behind Silenos’ words and their distressing effect on the infant Perseus have more in common with Schubert’s Erlkönig than any bucolic song from the nursery.

While Aeschylus deploys many tropes of the genre, he gives us a singular satyr play by recasting these tropes so that Silenos and his sons are menacing figures, just as Homer has the suitors in the Odyssey pose a collective threat to Penelope and her son. The dramatist who, Athenaeus tells us, famously described his own tragedies as τεμάχη […] τῶν Ὁμήρου μεγάλων δείπνων (‘slices from the great banquets of Homer’, Athen. 8.347d) may have been speaking of his own ‘playful tragedies’ as well. In any event, the satyrs’ role in Diktyoulkoi overturns the buffoonish, even sometimes sympathetic figures they can be elsewhere within the genre as helpers, labourers, caretakers, rural inhabitants, and allies of the hero. Aeschylus, who Pausanias (2.13.6–7) and Diogenes Laertius (2.133) tell us enjoyed a reputation as the master of satyric drama, plays with the genre known in antiquity to play with tragedy and other poetic forms, for he incorporates into Diktyoulkoi a number of typical features of satyr drama to produce one that appears to have an atypical overall narrative trajectory. By the end of the play we can expect to return to the light; but before then we are confronted, it seems, by the unusual prospect of the satyrs as the source of the darkness.

Footnotes