I. Introduction
The choral odes of Greek tragedy are characteristically arranged in paired stanzas: a strophe followed by an antistrophe that repeats the same sequence of long and short syllables with only minor variations. This repetition of metre provides a strong basis for inferring that responding stanzas were sung to the same rhythms.Footnote 1 In modern musical traditions, the repetition of rhythmic strophes generally (if not universally) coincides with repetition of melody, perhaps in part because the responsion of complex rhythmic patterns would be difficult to perceive if the melody undermined rather than reinforced them.Footnote 2 Dionysius of Halicarnassus (Comp. 19.16–24) explicitly affirms that this was the case for tragic music, specifying that the antistrophe repeats the same melody (μέλος) as the strophe. His testimony has generally been cited by scholars of metre without discussion or argument.Footnote 3 More recently, however, several studies have questioned this consensus, following Cornelis Jord Ruijgh’s proposal that responding stanzas did not originally repeat the same melody, but were instead melodized continuously based on their pitch accents.Footnote 4 As I shall discuss below, the arguments against melodic repetition mainly depend on textual emendations made to produce this meaning, necessitating a reassessment of the sources.
This study aims to address all ancient testimony touching directly or indirectly on the question of melodic repetition in antistrophic song.Footnote 5 After a brief consideration of how strophic poetry is defined in the context of metrics (section II), I address in turn the three bodies of evidence with a bearing on this question: disparate comments in the Aristotelian corpus (section III), Dionysius of Halicarnassus’ On Literary Composition 19 (section IV) and Athenaeus’ description of the so-called Alphabet Tragedy of Callias (section V). I close with a brief consideration of the evidence provided by pitch accents in antistrophic lyric (section VI) and several general conclusions on how the repetition of melody might be relevant in the interpretation of tragic lyric texts.
II. Hephaestion and Aristides
The ancient handbooks on metre and music do not comment directly on melody’s role in strophic responsion, but neither do they rule it out. In his work On Poems, Hephaestion defines responsion in very general terms (3.2 = 64.22–23 Consbruch): ‘Compositions in responsion (κατὰ σχέσιν) are those which the poet writes in submission to reprisal (ἀνταπόδοσις, lit. “giving out in exchange”) and recurrence (ἀνακύκλησις, lit. “circling back”).’Footnote 6 According to Johannes M. van Ophuijsen, the terms ‘reprisal’ and ‘recurrence’ could refer to the historical distinction between the binary stanza pairs of antistrophic song (which entail a sense of reprisal or exchange) and the multiple recurrences of a single stanza within monostrophic song.Footnote 7 Alternatively, given that Hephaestion presents these qualities as a pair (καί) rather than as alternatives, we might see ‘reprisal and recurrence’ as referencing the combination of audible and visual markers associated with antistrophic performance: the ‘reprisal’ of metre/song and the ‘circling back’ (ἀνακύκλησις) of the direction of dance.Footnote 8 In either case, however, Hephaestion’s description is concerned with the larger formal structure of responsion and does not clarify what role (if any) melody played in communicating that structure in performance.
A similarly general description of strophic responsion concludes book 1 of Aristides’ treatise On Music (1.29):
Of these [polymetric compositions], some are in free verse (ἀπολϵλυμένα), others in responsion (κατὰ σχέσιν). ‘Free verse’ is like the parabases of the comic poets, ‘in responsion’ is like the antistrophic compositions (τὰ ἀντιστρέφοντα). Of these, in turn, some are bipartite, others tripartite, like those which have the epode in addition. Some are similar in their order, others reversed. ‘Similar’ is like when the first part of the antistrophe responds to the first part of the strophe (τὸ πρῶτον τῆς ἀντιστρόφου τῷ τῆς στροφῆς ἀποδοθῇ), the second to the second and similarly for the rest; ‘reversed’ is like when the first responds to the last, the second to the penultimate and the rest according to the same principle.
Aristides’ references to responsion between sequential sections of the strophe and antistrophe are again general enough to include both metre and melody. This final passage comes immediately after a section discussing metre, but it is worth noting that book 1 began with sections on harmonics and rhythmics. While the three sections are never explicitly integrated, the book’s closing comments on responsion could potentially look back to all three of the preceding sections, if responsion applied to rhythm and melody, as well as metre.Footnote 9
Neither Aristides nor Hephaestion explicitly mentions melody’s role in strophic responsion, but some clue might be found in Hephaestion’s description of the comic parabasis, where he distinguishes between sung and spoken forms of responsion (On Poems 8.2 = 73.5–10 Consbruch):
And next there are the parts written in correspondence (κατὰ σχέσιν): the song (μέλος) plus the epirrhēma, which for the most part was made up of sixteen lines; and then the antistrophe to the song (τὸ τῷ μέλϵι ἀντίστροφον) plus the so-called antepirrhēma, which was made up of the same number of cola (τῶν ἴσων κώλων) as the epirrhēma.
Hephaestion defines the antepirrhēma as a metrical response to the epirrhēma, but identifies the antistrophe’s responsion specifically in terms of song (τὸ τῷ μέλϵι ἀντίστροφον).Footnote 10 What that entails in terms of performance is not specified, but the context could suggest that it is something more than mere metrical responsion.
III. Aristotelian sources: Problems 19.15 and Rhetoric 3.9
The earliest unambiguous evidence for the repetition of melody in antistrophic song appears in book 19 of the Aristotelian Problems, which discusses questions related to harmonics.Footnote 11 In Problems 19.15, the author addresses the question of why nomoi were through-composed, while choral songs were composed in antistrophic pairs (διὰ τί οἱ μὲν νόμοι οὐκ ἐν ἀντιστρόφοις ἐποιοῦντο, αἱ δὲ ἄλλαι ᾠδαὶ αἱ χορικαί, 918b13–14).Footnote 12 The answer is exceptionally detailed and attributes the difference to practical considerations regarding performance: the degree of mimesis required and the skill of the performers. In explaining how mimesis and musical skill influence a song’s structure, the author indirectly makes clear that antistrophic responsion applied to melody as well as rhythm.
First, the author observes that nomoi were performed by a single professional competitor, who was capable of longer and more ‘multi-formed’ (πολυϵιδής) song, and who could therefore achieve a higher degree of mimesis in performance ([Pr.] 918b14–16). This heightened mimesis was facilitated specifically by the lack of melodic repetition (918b16–18):
Just like the words, the melodies (τὰ μέλη) too served the mimesis by always becoming different (ἀϵὶ ἕτϵρα γινόμϵνα). For it is more necessary for the melody (τῷ μέλϵι) to imitate than it is for the wording.
According to Problems, the distinctive quality that allows solo songs to be more mimetic than antistrophic pairs is the use of a melody that is constantly changing (τὰ μέλη … ἀϵὶ ἕτϵρα γινόμϵνα). Such a distinction is only relevant if antistrophic song did not likewise feature a constantly changing melody and instead required that τὰ μέλη be repeated.
Choral songs, by contrast, are said to have required a more conservative approach to melody ([Pr.] 918b21–29):
It was difficult for many to sing in a professional way, and the result was that they sang modal melodies (ἐναρμόνια μέλη), since to modulate many modulations is easier for the single performer than for the many, and for the professional than for those maintaining their character. On account of this, they made the melodies for them [i.e. the choruses] more straightforward. And the antistrophic pair is a straightforward thing, since there is proportion (ἀριθμός), and it shares a unit of measure (ἑνὶ μϵτρϵῖται).
The simplicity of choral song is described in terms of two accommodations. First, the songs were composed using modal melodies (ἐναρμόνια μέλη).Footnote 13 Second, they were structured in antistrophic pairs. We should note here that antistrophic pairs are presented specifically as a means to simplify the melodies (ἁπλούστϵρα … τὰ μέλη), rather than the rhythms. The section closes by listing the two qualities that make an antistrophic pair simple: there is ἀριθμός (‘number’, ‘proportion’, ‘set quantity’) and ‘it is measured by a single unit’ (ἑνὶ μϵτρϵῖται).
The translation above is based on the manuscript text, which is emphatic in its focus on melody, but an emended version of the final section of this passage has recently been taken as evidence that antistrophic responsion was purely metrical and did not extend to melody.Footnote 14 As transmitted, the final line of the passage reads: ἀριθμὸς γάρ ἐστι καὶ ἑνὶ μϵτρϵῖται. However, in Musici Scriptores Graeci, Carl Jan prints an emendation that has since become widely adopted: ϵἷς ῥυθμὸς γάρ ἐστι καὶ ἑνὶ μϵτρϵῖται.Footnote 15 The hypothetical corruption of ϵἷς ῥυθμὸς (‘one rhythm’) to the MSS ἀριθμὸς is textually plausible, if we infer that ϵἷς ῥυθμὸς was written with numerical alpha (ᾱ ῥυθμὸς) and that the homophony of υ and ι in post-Classical pronunciation facilitated further corruption.Footnote 16 Presumably working from this emended text, Armand D’Angour offers a translation that further emphasizes rhythm (‘antistrophes are simple: they have one dance-rhythm and one metre’), from which he argues that ‘It seems significant that the author here should mention the identity in strophic responsion of dance-rhythm and metre, but not of melody.’Footnote 17 The textual history makes this argument untenable, since the text has been altered precisely to produce the expected emphasis on metrical responsion. By contrast, the language of the unemended text is broad enough to encompass melodic as well as rhythmic repetition, as can be seen in comparable usages of its key terms, ἀριθμὸς and ἑνὶ μϵτρϵῖται.
The word ἀριθμός carries a wide breadth of meanings, but in the context of poetry, it is associated specifically with strophic responsion. According to Hephaestion’s On Poems (3.5 = 65.12–15 Consbruch), poetry composed in responsion (κατὰ σχέσιν) can be differentiated from non-responding poetry by the presence of an ἀριθμός that is ‘delimited’ (ὡρισμένος) or ‘prescribed’ (τϵταγμένος).Footnote 18 Hephaestion does not use this terminology for stichic poetry, suggesting that it indicates more than a fixed metre or rhythm, and while he sometimes uses it for discussing the ‘number’ of cola within a stanza, he does so only when describing the balanced symmetry of responding stanzas.Footnote 19 Aristotle likewise uses ἀριθμός as a term for balanced symmetry in Rhetoric 3.9 (discussed in detail below), and while his use of the term is somewhat more expansive, these passages provide an extremely apt parallel for that of Problems 19.15, without any need for emendation: antistrophic composition is simpler because there is a balanced symmetry between responding stanzas. While this sense of symmetry could refer only to metrical responsion, the language is broad enough to encompass melodic repetition as well, especially in the context of a passage concerned primarily with melodic variation.
The same is true for the subsequent statement that an antistrophic pair ‘is measured by a single unit’ (ἑνὶ μϵτρϵῖται). Rather than a reference specifically to metre (‘there is one metre’), the phrase turns out to be a frequent Aristotelian idiom, possibly originating in discussions of mathematical proportionality.Footnote 20 For example, in Eudemian Ethics (1243b), Aristotle repeatedly uses this construction in discussing interpersonal relationships that are not directly reciprocal. The inability to apply a single standard (μϵτρῆσαι ἑνί) becomes difficult whenever two people seek to arrange a quid pro quo relationship (λογίζονται τί ἀντὶ τίνος). This includes students and teachers, who will inevitably get into disagreements because ‘knowledge and money do not share a unit of measure’ (ἐπιστήμη γὰρ καὶ χρήματα οὐχ ἑνὶ μϵτρϵῖται). As an idiom, the phrase describes things that are directly comparable and interchangeable, without carrying any association with rhythm or metre.Footnote 21
Accordingly, in Problems 19.15 ἑνὶ μϵτρϵῖται can be understood as describing the consistent parallelism between two stanzas, without any specific reference to metre. Taken as a whole, then, the passage’s closing sentence asserts that antistrophic pairs are characterized by balanced proportion (ἀριθμός ἐστι) and a sense of direct exchange (ἑνὶ μϵτρϵῖται). Used in a context that emphasizes the role of melody in defining antistrophic responsion, we can infer that this sense of balanced exchange was created, at least in part, by the careful repetition of melody.
This understanding of Problems 19.15 is corroborated indirectly by a combination of two later sections. In Problems 19.30, the author claims that certain melodic modes (the Hypodorian and Hypophrygian) do not allow for antistrophes and are therefore appropriate only for actor song. Section 19.48 addresses the exceptional nature of these two modes, explaining that they ‘have melody the least’ (μέλος ἥκιστα ἔχουσιν).Footnote 22 By attesting that less melodic modes would impede the use of antistrophic song structure, these passages indirectly affirm the role that melody played in communicating responsion to an audience.
The description of antistrophic form found in Problems 19.15 is also paralleled in Aristotle’s more secure works. In Rhetoric 3.9, Aristotle explains the contrast between the ‘continuous’ and ‘periodic’ styles through a musical analogy (3.9.1):
The style must be either continuous (ϵἰρομένη) and unified by connecting particles, just as the preludes (ἀναβολαί) in dithyrambs are, or else periodic (κατϵστραμμένη), similar to the antistrophic songs (αἱ ἀντίστροφοι) of the ancient poets.
Because Aristotle assumes that his audience would already be familiar with dithyrambic preludes and antistrophic songs, he does not describe their musical structures directly. Instead, he proceeds to describe the structural features of the two rhetorical styles, which presumably resemble the musical forms with which he has identified them. While his comments do not address the role of melody in particular, they reinforce the presentation given in Problems 19.15 and provide broader insight into how antistrophic performance might frame the interpretation of tragic lyrics for an Athenian audience.
In Rhetoric 3.9.2, Aristotle defines the continuous style (λέξις ϵἰρομένη)Footnote 23 as speech where the end cannot be anticipated from the structure, an arrangement that is ‘unpleasant on account of its boundlessness’ (ἀηδὲς διὰ τὸ ἄπϵιρον). This emphasis on length and variability recalls the contrast between strophic and astrophic song in Problems 19.15, as does Aristotle’s subsequent definition of the periodic style (λέξις κατϵστραμμένη)Footnote 24 at Rh. 3.9.3:
A periodic utterance is one that is in periods. By ‘period’, I mean an utterance that has a beginning and ending in itself, and a size that can easily be perceived at once. Such an utterance is pleasant and easy to learn. It is pleasant because it has a nature opposite to what is boundless and because the listener constantly perceives that he has got something and accomplished something for himself. To never anticipate or accomplish anything is unpleasant. And it is easy to learn because it is easy to remember. It has this quality because an utterance arranged in periods has proportion (ἀριθμός), which of all things is easiest to remember. For this reason, too, everyone remembers verse (τὰ μέτρα) more than prose. For it has a proportion by which it is measured out (ἀριθμὸν γὰρ ἔχϵι ᾧ μϵτρϵῖται).
Just as in Problems 19.15, Aristotle uses the term ἀριθμός to describe the proportionate balance that characterizes antistrophic pairs and, in this case, rhetorical periods. Here, too, he characterizes a balanced structure as easier to learn, comparing this outcome to the effect of writing in verse (τὰ μέτρα). While Aristotle mentions metre, it is important to note that ἀριθμός here is not associated with metrical rhythm: it is a quality found in both antistrophic pairs and periodic speech (in prose), but absent from dithyrambic preludes (in metre) and the continuous style. The passage makes clear, as Robert Fowler argues in detail, that ἀριθμός is a term for ‘the general principle of proportion and balance’.Footnote 25
Aristotle expands his choral metaphor in Rhetoric 3.9.6, where he indirectly sheds light on the choreographic design of antistrophic stanzas. In describing the proper proportioning of rhetorical speech he compares the listener to someone moving as part of a group:
It is necessary that cola and periods be neither curtailed nor long. A short one often makes the listener stumble: when he’s still hurrying towards what’s next, towards a set measure whose boundary (ὅρος) is established in itself, if he is then pulled back by the speaker stopping, a sort of stumble is bound to occur, due to the collision. But the long ones cause him to get left behind, like people who make their turn further than the turning post (τέρμα). For these men likewise leave behind the people pacing back and forth with them (τοὺς συμπϵριπατοῦντας).
Aristotle asks us to imagine the listener as someone following the speaker as they walk along a circuit with a determined boundary (ὅρος). If the speaker stops before the turning post, the listener bumps into him; if the speaker continues on beyond the expected turning point (τέρμα), he leaves the listener behind. The imagery echoes a passage of the Protagoras (314e3–315b8), in which Plato describes the sophist walking back and forth across a courtyard as he lectures to a group that paces with him, gracefully parting and reforming with each change of direction. Plato compares the group’s coordinated alternations to a chorus (Prt. 315b2), indirectly affirming the choreographic model attested more directly in later authors: that the strophe and antistrophe were danced in alternating directions, giving antistrophic dance a balanced pattern of reversal.Footnote 26 This connection between alternating motion and antistrophic dance is even more accessible in the context of Rhetoric 3.9, where antistrophic song is explicitly introduced as a frame of reference. In this sense, Aristotle extends the Platonic metaphor to make a new point: just as a speaker’s physical motion might resemble a chorus’ alternating dance, his language, too, should have the proportioned balance (ἀριθμός) of choral song.
The rhetorical value of this structural arrangement is made clear in the following section (Rh. 3.9.7), where Aristotle introduces the concept of antithesis.Footnote 27 He illustrates this technique with a long list of examples featuring balanced two-part constructions (μέν/δέ, καί/καί, ἤ/ἤ, etc.), and concludes by commenting on their pleasurable quality (3.9.8):
Such a style is pleasant because the things placed in opposition (ἐναντία) are very recognizable (γνώριμα) and more recognizable for being side by side (παράλληλα), and also because it seems like a syllogism, for a refutation is the bringing together of things set in opposition (τῶν ἀντικϵιμένων).
This description complements Aristotle’s earlier comments on the pleasure of language presented in balanced periods. On the one hand, formal parallelism allows the listener to form an expectation based on the first clause for how the second clause will end, and thus to feel a sense of satisfaction and accomplishment when that expectation is met. At the same time, balanced oppositions spur the listener to compare or contrast ideas presented in corresponding positions, and to feel an intellectual pleasure in recognizing those correspondences.Footnote 28 In comparing this periodic style to antistrophic song, Aristotle indirectly suggests that his audience would be used to experiencing these same pleasures during a tragic ode, in which each antistrophic pair would similarly combine parallelism and reversal in its formal structure.
Overall, then, the indirect description of antistrophic performance in Rhetoric 3.9 affirms the more explicit discussion in Problems 19, reinforcing the emphasis on balanced parallelism. The phrase Problems 19.15 uses to describe this quality, ἀριθμὸς γάρ ἐστι καὶ ἑνὶ μϵτρϵῖται, is general enough that it could refer to the larger sense of balance and parallelism found in both choral song and rhetorical periods. The aesthetic effect might be the same in both, allowing the audience to anticipate the conclusion and feel pleasure in recognizing the correspondence of elements. As Problems 19.15 makes clear, this formal effect was created specifically by the repeated melody (μέλος), in contrast to astrophic actor songs, where the lack of melodic repetition (τὰ μέλη … ἀϵὶ ἕτϵρα γινόμϵνα, 918b16–18) allowed for greater musical mimesis.
IV. Dionysius of Halicarnassus, On Literary Composition 19
The performative conventions hinted at in the earlier Aristotelian sources are stated explicitly by Dionysius of Halicarnassus. In discussing the use of variation (μϵταβολή) as a part of literary style, Dionysius describes the restrictions that antistrophic structure places on melodic variation (19.15–23):Footnote 29
τοῖς δὲ τὰ μέλη γράφουσιν τὸ μὲν τῶν στροφῶν τϵ καὶ ἀντιστρόφων οὐχ οἷόν τϵ ἀλλάξαι μέλος, ἀλλ’ ἐάν τ’ ἐναρμονίους ἐάν τϵ χρωματικὰς ἐάν τϵ διατόνους ὑποθῶνται μϵλῳδίας, ἐν πάσαις δϵῖ ταῖς στροφαῖς καὶ ἀντιστρόφοις τὰς αὐτὰς ἀγωγὰς φυλάττϵιν· οὐδέ γϵ τοὺς πϵριέχοντας ὅλας τὰς στροφὰς ῥυθμοὺς καὶ τὰς ἀντιστρόφους, ἀλλὰ δϵῖ καὶ τούτους τοὺς αὐτοὺς διαμένϵιν· πϵρὶ δὲ τὰς καλουμένας ἐπῳδοὺς ἀμφότϵρα κινϵῖν ταῦτα ἔξϵστι τό τϵ μέλος καὶ τὸν ῥυθμόν.
For those who write songs (τὰ μέλη) it is not possible, on the one hand, to alter the song (μέλος) common to both the strophes and antistrophes, but whether the melodies (μϵλῳδίαι) they undertake are enharmonic, chromatic or diatonic, in all the strophes and antistrophes they must preserve the same directions (ἀγωγαί). Nor, on the other hand, [is it possible to alter] the rhythms encompassing the strophes and antistrophes as a whole, but rather it is necessary that these, too, remain the same. Concerning the so-called epodes, it is possible to move both of these, both the song (μέλος) and the rhythm.
Dionysius is very clear that in responding strophes and antistrophes, the composer must not change the ‘song’ (οὐχ οἷόν τϵ ἀλλάξαι μέλος). Our understanding of antistrophic responsion therefore depends on the precise meaning of μέλος here. The prevalent interpretation, reflected in Stephen Usher’s Loeb translation, is that ‘writers of lyric cannot vary the melodies of strophe and antistrophe,’ that strophic responsion entails melodic repetition. An alternative interpretation has been proposed by Ruijgh, who suggests that μέλος here must refer only to the modal scale, rather than an actual melody.Footnote 30 Dionysius himself mentions tuning systems (enharmonic, chromatic and diatonic) in the explanation that follows, but he also specifies that responding stanzas must preserve the same ‘directions’ (ἀγωγαί). To firmly establish what Dionysius’ testimony means for melodic responsion, we must first determine how he uses these two key terms: μέλος and ἀγωγαί.
Across On Literary Composition, Dionysius occasionally uses the term μέλος to refer to ‘song’ in general, and this is especially true in passages where he distinguishes between fully sung melodies and the carefully polished sound-patterning he recommends for rhetorical speech.Footnote 31 A more specific meaning is established in chapter 11, when he introduces the four core elements of pleasing speech: melody (μέλος), rhythm, variation and appropriateness. In discussing μέλος, Dionysius contrasts the natural intonation of spoken language with the stylized pitch patterns of sung music (Comp. 11.88–110). He illustrates this point with a detailed discussion of the opening melody of Euripides’ Orestes: moving syllable by syllable through several lines, he describes each melodic contour (where the pitch rises, falls or stays the same) without any interest in the scale system or the size of intervals used. Here, as throughout the rest of his discussion of μέλος, it is clear that he understands the term as indicating a specific sequence of pitch contours.
A possible counter-example to this usage might be found in On the Style of Demosthenes, in another passage discussing intonation melodies. According to Dionysius, Demosthenes studied ‘the melodies of words’ (τὰ μέλη τῶν ὀνομάτων, 48.33–34) and was puzzled to find that the same words did not always have the same effect, due to ‘differences in the melodies’ (τῶν μϵλῶν διαφοράς, 48.43–44). In the discussion that follows, Dionysius compares the adjustment of how words are pronounced to the tuning of musical scale systems, writing that intonation can subtly change the words’ effect, ‘just as chromaticism (χρῶμα) relates to mode (ἁρμονία) in musical compositions’ (Dem. 48.45–46).Footnote 32 This comparison makes clear that scalar tunings have a role in melody but does not suggest an equivalence between ἁρμονία and μέλος. Instead, Dionysius appears to understand melody (μέλος) as depending on two factors: the melodic contours (which in speech are determined by the accentual intonation of the words), and the scale system within which these contours are rendered (which the orator can shape in performance). In this sense, a scale system is one part of what defines a melody, but the melody itself is more narrowly defined by its specific sequence of pitches.
This two-part definition of μέλος fits neatly into Dionysius’ description of antistrophic responsion.Footnote 33 After asserting that one ‘cannot change the melody’ (οὐχ οἷόν τϵ ἀλλάξαι μέλος, Comp. 19.16), he specifies that this restriction applies to both the scale system and the ‘directions’ (ἀγωγαί). In particular, he writes that in responding stanzas poets must ‘preserve the same directions’ (τὰς αὐτὰς ἀγωγὰς φυλάττϵιν).
The noun ἀγωγή has a range of meanings nearly as broad as the verb from which it is derived (ἄγω): it can refer to physical guidance, the upbringing of children or styles of oration and musical performance.Footnote 34 Uniting these varied meanings is a basic sense of ‘direction’ or ‘guidance’ in setting a course of action.Footnote 35 As a technical term in music theory, ἀγωγή can have two meanings, depending on its context. In discussions of rhythm, it denotes how the performer chooses to render the quantities of the notes: that is to say, the tempo of a musical performance. This is explicitly defined in several fragments of Aristoxenus, as well as in Aristides Quintilianus’ treatise On Music, and it may also be implied in several earlier sources.Footnote 36 It is important to note, however, that the use of ἀγωγή in discussions of rhythmics is presented as a secondary meaning, which Aristides feels the need to distinguish as ‘rhythmic direction’ (ἀγωγὴ ῥυθμική, 1.19.1).
The primary meaning of ἀγωγή in the context of music theory is related to harmonics. Both Aristoxenus and Aristides explicitly define ἀγωγή as melodic movement through consecutive notes, in contrast to intervallic movement.Footnote 37 Aristides introduces the term immediately following his description of the enharmonic, chromatic and diatonic genera (16.19–22):
We melodize each of these genera in both ‘direction’ (ἀγωγή) and ‘braiding’ (πλοκή). ‘Direction’ is when we compose the melody (μϵλῳδία) through the notes in order, while ‘braiding’ is when [we compose the melody] through notes reached by overstepping.
In this context, ἀγωγή is used for a style of melodic movement within the notes of a given scale, particularly the use of adjacent notes in sequence.Footnote 38 Aristides makes clear that these melodic styles are not part of the scale system (which should be established beforehand) but part of the process of composing a specific melody (ὅτϵ … ποιούμϵθα τὴν μϵλῳδίαν, 16.20).Footnote 39
Later, in chapter 29, Aristides discusses the process of melodic composition in greater detail, breaking it into three steps: choosing the range (i.e. musical register), fitting together the scale and composing the specific melody (τῆς μϵλωδίας ἀπϵργασία, 29.18), which he labels with the term ‘usage’ (χρῆσις). As a part of ‘usage’, he identifies three forms of melodic motion, of which ἀγωγή (‘direction’) is the first. Within this category he identifies three subcategories of ἀγωγαί: ascending, descending and a combination of the two. While the plural form ἀγωγαί never actually appears in this passage, one might infer that it would describe a sequence of such ‘directions’ – that is, the rises, falls and turning points of a fully constructed melody.
This technical sense of ἀγωγή, found in both Aristoxenus and Aristides, seems exceptionally well-suited to the context of Dionysius’ description of antistrophic responsion. Dionysius uses the word in the context of harmonics rather than his later discussion of rhythmics, and he specifically echoes the theorists in introducing ἀγωγή as a compositional step that follows the choice of scale system, writing that ‘whether [composers] undertake enharmonic, chromatic or diatonic melodies, they must preserve the same “directions” (ἀγωγαί) in all the strophes and antistrophes.’ Admittedly, this usage of the term ἀγωγή is not directly parallel to that of Aristides, who uses it specifically for stepwise melodic movement, which he distinguishes from melodic repetition and intervallic movement. It is worth noting, however, that Aristides does not offer an alternative term for ‘melodic movements’ in general. Given that ἀγωγή has a broad inherent meaning (from ἄγω) and that stepwise motion appears to have been the most common form of melodic movement in practice, it would appear a convenient term to fill that gap.Footnote 40
Dionysius himself appears to use ἀγωγή in this broader sense elsewhere, when he observes that Demosthenes ‘composes remarkable rises and falls of pitch, sometimes making the direction (ἀγωγή) more dignified, other times more lovely’ (Dem. 44.4–6). Here, ἀγωγή explicitly describes rises and falls of pitch, without any reference to the contrast between stepwise and intervallic motion.Footnote 41 Moreover, because Dionysius is discussing an author he knows only through writing, his description of pitch variations must refer to the patterning of pitch accents in the words themselves, rather than the pitch intervals with which Demosthenes originally chose to pronounce them.
Returning once more to Dionysius’ definition of antistrophic repetition, we see that the wording he chooses is consistently compatible with the long-standing interpretation of the passage as evidence for precise melodic repetition between strophes and antistrophes. To his knowledge, at least, responding stanzas repeat the same melody (μέλος), which is realized both in the choice of scale system and in the specific sequence of melodic rises and falls (ἀγωγαί).
V. Athenaeus and the Alphabet Tragedy of Callias
The main evidence cited in opposition to Dionysius’ testimony comes from another late source. The humorously titled Alphabet Tragedy of Callias appears to have been a late fifth-century Old Comedy with paratragic elements, though the date, authorship and even title are debated.Footnote 42 The play survives only via Athenaeus’ Learned Banqueters, where it is twice mentioned briefly (7.276a, 448b) and later described at length (10.453–54). Within this third passage, Athenaeus describes a choral song with a distinctive musical structure and closes with the puzzling claim that Euripides imitated this song in his Medea and that ‘on account of this, as it seems, the others all admitted the antistrophes from this source into their tragedies’ (διόπϵρ οἱ λοιποὶ τὰς ἀντιστρόφους ἀπὸ τούτου παρϵδέχοντο πάντϵς, ὡς ἔοικϵν, ϵἰς τὰς τραγῳδίας, 10.453e).
Ruijgh influentially took this claim as evidence that Euripides’ Medea was the first tragedy to use the same music in responding stanzas and that earlier strophic song did not feature melodic repetition.Footnote 43 Because Ruijgh was working under the once widely adopted hypothesis that Athenaeus’ text was shortened by a breviator who left out small words, he ‘restores’ small words throughout his reading, in order to give the text what he views as its proper sense.Footnote 44 Thus, he understands Athenaeus’ patently absurd claim that Medea was the first tragedy to introduce ‘antistrophes’ in general (τὰς ἀντιστρόφους, 10.453e) to be a shortening of ‘this kind of antistrophe’ (τὰς τοιαύτας ἀντιστρόφους), referring to the specific musical structure that Euripides is said to have borrowed from the Alphabet Tragedy ode.Footnote 45
In Athenaeus’ description of this ode (10.453d–e), he repeatedly comments on the use of metre and melody together, suggesting that this was a distinctive element. He introduces the song by saying that the chorus consisted of women divided into pairs, singing lyrics that appear to build syllables out of letters: βῆτα ἄλφα βα, βῆτα ϵἶ βϵ, βῆτα ἦτα βη, etc., with each responding stanza using a different initial consonant.Footnote 46 In describing the first strophe, he says that the song was ‘metrical and at the same time melodificated’ (ἔμμϵτρος ἅμα καὶ μϵμϵλοπϵποιημένος, 10.453d). This pairing is echoed at the transition to the second stanza, which Athenaeus refers to as ‘an antistrophe of the metre and of the song’ (ἐν ἀντιστρόφῳ τοῦ μέλους καὶ τοῦ μέτρου, 10.453d). After describing two stanzas, Athenaeus sums up the rest of the ode thus: ‘and likewise, on each of the remaining syllables, all the women have both the same metre and the same melody in the antistrophes’ (καὶ ἐπὶ τῶν λοιπῶν συλλαβῶν ὁμοίως ἑκάστων τό τϵ μέτρον καὶ τὸ μέλος ἐν ἀντιστρόφοις ἔχουσι πᾶσαι ταὐτόν, 10.453e).Footnote 47 Here again, there is a ‘curiously superfluous’ emphasis on the pairing of metre and melody.Footnote 48
There is clearly something distinctive about the use of metre and melody in the Alphabet Tragedy ode, and Ruijgh proposes that this is the introduction of melodic repetition. To facilitate this interpretation, he proposes several textual restorations in the final sentence (10.453e): he takes ‘both the metre and the melody’ (τό τϵ μέτρον καὶ τὸ μέλος) as the breviator’s shortening of ‘not only the metre, but also the melody’ (οὐ μόνον τό μέτρον ἀλλὰ καὶ τὸ μέλος), and he emends ‘all the women … in the antistrophes’ (ἐν ἀντιστρόφοις … πᾶσαι) to ‘all the antistrophes’ (αἱ ἀντίστροφοι … πᾶσαι).Footnote 49 It is these changes that produce his proposed understanding of the key passage: ‘all the antistrophes have not only the same metre, but also the same melody.’Footnote 50
It must be emphasized that the breviator theory which provided a basis for Ruijgh’s speculative adjustments of Athenaeus’ text has been universally rejected in more recent scholarship.Footnote 51 Without Ruijgh’s interventions, the emphasis is not on the addition of melodic responsion, but on the performance of responding sections by the same women, who are earlier described as being arranged in pairs (ἐκ τῶν σύνδυο, 10.453d). While the musical design of Callias’ song is beyond the scope of the present study, the unemended text suggests that the ode is better understood to have been distinctive for its combination of sung lyrics and metrical recitation, performed in responding positions by the same paired choreuts. Thus Athenaeus describes even the initial strophe as ‘metrical and at the same time melodificated’ and later refers to an ‘antistrophe of both the song and the metre’ (ἀντιστρόφῳ τοῦ μέλους καὶ τοῦ μέτρου, 10.453d), a phrase that parallels ancient descriptions of comic parabases, in which sung and chanted sections alternate within a single stanza.Footnote 52 In this case, we might infer that Medea was well known for its use of a similarly mixed performative style.Footnote 53
Overall, Athenaeus’ unemended language gives no indication that either Alphabet Tragedy or Medea was remarkable for the introduction of melodic repetition in metrically responding stanzas, and such an innovation would appear very unlikely in the context of what is known of Euripidean music. Ancient authors often comment on Euripides’ tendency towards greater musical variety: he is said to loosen the formal restrictions followed by the earlier tragedians, and this is borne out in the lyric sections of his surviving plays, which feature an increasing variety of metres and a decreasing use of antistrophic responsion.Footnote 54 The introduction of a new restriction, which requires the melody to repeat rather than vary freely, is hardly what one would expect of Euripides, such that there is no need to emend Athenaeus’ testimony to conform with this idea.
In fact, the scholarship arguing that melodic repetition was a Euripidean innovation has generally used Athenaeus as evidence not for melodic repetition itself, but for its supposed ‘corollary’: that while earlier tragedians based their melodies on the rise and fall of the pitch accents, Euripides chose to free his melody from the restriction of following the pitch accents. Such a proposition is more plausible as a potential Euripidean innovation, but it does not provide a logical motive for introducing melodic repetition: if Euripides wanted to disregard accents, he could easily do so without also introducing a new restriction on melodic variation. The connection between these two phenomena, while not strictly logical, has its basis in a history of scholarship linking the question of melodic responsion to that of pitch accents’ role in Classical melodies, as discussed in the next section. This connection is not, however, mentioned by Athenaeus, and it should not frame our interpretation of the testimony he provides.
VI. Pitch accents and melodic responsion
In the songs with musical notation that have survived from antiquity, composers often coordinate the accentual intonation of the lyrics with the rises and falls of their melody.Footnote 55 Comments in Plato suggest that such a practice was characteristic of old-fashioned songs (Resp. 3.398d, 399e–400a), and in Aristophanes’ Frogs the character Aeschylus mocks Euripides for lyrics that distort pronunciation, suggesting that this was not a traditional approach.Footnote 56 Nevertheless, it was long assumed that accent could not have played a role in the strophic songs of the Archaic and Classical periods, since the pitch accents of responding stanzas do not consistently fall in responding metrical positions.Footnote 57 This assumption has also generally been accepted by scholars arguing in favour of accent-based melodies, who therefore assert that earlier strophic songs would have been through-composed without melodic repetition.Footnote 58
This is, however, a false choice. As I have argued elsewhere, the principles for coordinating accent and melody are flexible enough that we would not expect to find perfectly responding accents even in songs where the same melody was precisely repeated with multiple sets of accent-coordinated lyrics.Footnote 59 Rather than consistently imitating spoken intonation, ancient composers merely avoid contradiction between words and melody, such that flat melodic contours (i.e. repeated notes) can be set with different intonational contours in different stanzas.Footnote 60 In the ancient melodies that survive, flat melodic contours are frequent: 22 per cent of notes are followed by a repetition of the same note.Footnote 61 If tragic melodies featured a similar rate of repeated notes, then responding stanzas could disagree in the direction of their intonation 22 per cent of the time. In a digital study of accentual responsion in the lyrics of Aeschylus, I found that just 20 per cent of metrical positions conflict in their intonational contour, making it perfectly possible that Aeschylus’ songs could both respect accent and precisely repeat the same melody in responding stanzas.Footnote 62
There are, moreover, many passages of tragic lyric where the accents do trace the same melody in the strophe and the antistrophe, and these provide further positive evidence for the repetition of melody. In the Choephori kommos, for example, the accentuation in the actors’ final stanza pair (Cho. 456–60) allows for matching melodic movements in 90 per cent of metrical positions, including a responding circumflex accent.Footnote 63 Likewise, in Sophocles’ Trachiniae, the chorus’ climactic lament for Heracles and Deianeira traces the same melody in both strophe and antistrophe for all syllables but one (96%), and Heracles’ subsequent monody is also extremely parallel in its accentual contours (92%).Footnote 64 Such stanza pairs offer strong evidence for the use of melodic repetition, but accentual divergences in other responding lyrics do not necessarily provide evidence of melodic variation, since they may simply indicate repeated notes in the original melody. The rate of accentual correspondence increases across early tragedy, and I have therefore proposed that differences in accentual parallelism might be understood as indicating a contrast between an older, more monotonous style of song and a newer, more lively approach to melody.Footnote 65 We might therefore view stanza pairs with closely parallel accent patterns (such as those discussed above) as distinguished by a melody in constant motion, in contrast to more monotonous passages, which allow for divergent accent patterns in the lyrics.
The melodic data preserved in pitch accents generally support Dionysius’ claim for precise melodic repetition, but they also provide some evidence for minor melodic variations in tragic antistrophes. Most significantly, Aeschylus’ antistrophes have 27 per cent more circumflex accents, on average, than their corresponding strophes.Footnote 66 In the musical documents, circumflex accents are typically embellished with a two-note falling figure, presumably reflecting their natural pronunciation.Footnote 67 The disproportionate presence of circumflex accents in antistrophes, which are metrically and stylistically identical to the preceding strophes, strongly suggests that ornamental melodic flourishes were used to add new interest when the melody was repeated a second time.Footnote 68 This effect is especially prominent in the first stasimon of Sophocles’ Trachiniae (497–516), in which a series of anapaestic metra consistently repeats one accent pattern in the strophe and then changes to a new pattern in the antistrophe, dense in circumflex accents.Footnote 69 Thus, while the overall accentual data provide strong evidence that melodic repetition was the norm in tragic antistrophes, they also leave room for small ornamentations and the occasional variation.
VII. Conclusion
While often indirect or ambiguous, the surviving testimonia are universally consistent with the hypothesis that tragic song repeated the same melody in paired strophes and antistrophes. Dionysius’ description of paired stanzas as having the same melody (μέλος) expressed in the same melodic movements (ἀγωγαί) provides a clear basis for this view, which is further substantiated by the claim in the Aristotelian Problems 19 that antistrophic song constrains the melody’s ability to vary freely. It is important to acknowledge that artists in any medium will inevitably deviate from the ‘rules’ of general practice, and we should assume the same was true for melodic repetition. At the same time, the testimonia and the accentual data both suggest that melodic repetition was the standard, and that melodic variations were either extremely small (like ornamental circumflexes) or rare enough for audiences to perceive them as exceptional. In this sense, the strictness of melodic repetition might be compared to that of metrical responsion, where the overall repetition is clear despite occasional substitutions.
We might also hypothesize that rhythmic variations in antistrophes were originally more common than they are in the texts that have been transmitted. The practice of emending texts to enforce metrical responsion began at least as early as the third century BCE, was systematically applied in the Byzantine recensions of Triclinius and remains a core principle in textual editing to this day.Footnote 70 It is hardly surprising that texts produced by such a process rarely deviate from theorists’ understandings of metrical responsion, and if accentual contours had likewise been taken into account, we might expect our texts to respond much more consistently in their intonational melodies. In the case of both metre and melody, however, the surviving evidence offered by ancient testimony and the texts themselves suggests that the melodic patterns were repeated consistently enough to be perceived as the same, even if composers occasionally deviated from this ‘rule’.Footnote 71
Such deviations might be especially important in the context of monostrophic and triadic compositions. My argument here has purposefully focused on the antistrophic pairs (αἱ ἀντίστροφοι) of tragedy, because these are what the testimony discusses and there is little reason to suppose that other genres would follow an identical compositional practice, given their structural and contextual differences.Footnote 72 Because monostrophic and triadic songs feature a much higher degree of metrical repetition, there would be more room (and perhaps more artistic impetus) to introduce musical variations, especially as the pattern was repeated more times.Footnote 73 The same is not true for tragic odes, in which each musical unit is sung only twice, giving the audience just one chance to recognize the structural connection between the lyric stanzas. Given the complexity of the metrical design in most tragic odes, melody would have played an important role in making responsion perceptible during a live performance.
The recognition of musical correspondence is central to how music makes meaning. A melodic motif exists only through repetition, which allows it to develop thematic associations and then later reactivate them, thereby drawing connections and contrasts between different sections of a larger musical work. In the case of tragedy, one can identify metrical motifs that recur across a work, as William Scott does for the Oresteia,Footnote 74 and a similar approach might be applied to the smaller-scale repetition of music within strophe-antistrophe pairs. Helene Foley documents meaningful signs of ‘strophic bonding’ in Aeschylus’ Persians, noting that mimetic dancing may have made echoes between strophes and antistrophes especially perceptible to the original audience.Footnote 75 The repetition of the same melodic phrases in responding positions would presumably play a role as well, particularly in passages where responding accent patterns trace an especially dynamic melody.Footnote 76 From this perspective, establishing the repetition of melody between paired stanzas is not merely a historical question: it provides a strong basis for interpreting tragic lyrics within their original musical context, even in the absence of specific annotated melodies.