I. INTRODUCTIONFootnote ¹

The Peleus of Euripides’ Andromache makes claims puzzlingly incongruous with his decrepit physical state. After first appearing onstage leaning on the arm of an attendant, he threatens to bloody Menelaus’ head with the sceptre that he uses to hold himself upright (589). Peleus’ assisted entrance and the stick that he carries emphasize his age and physical weakness, so it comes across as comical when he speaks as if he can match Menelaus in a physical contest. He then wins the verbal ἀγών against the Spartan king and again threatens violent retribution, this time against Menelaus’ attendant slaves, should they hinder him from untying Andromache's bonds. He finds he is too weak to free her alone, however, and requests assistance from her child (715–23). His physical weakness is thus highlighted a second time, now in a pathetic, almost pitiful light as he proves unable to achieve his desired outcomes with his own body. This contrast calls into question why Peleus boasts of his ability to enact violence. He immediately scolds Andromache for fearing that he is too old to protect her and her child in their flight from Phthia, claiming that he is upright and not old as Andromache thinks (761). This claim is obviously false, so we are left to wonder why Peleus denies the infirmity of his old age and what his relationship to it is.

Scholarship has been sparse in its treatment of old age in Greek poetry in general, and even more so in Euripides’ tragedies. Yet investigating the problem of old age may enrich understanding of the rather elusive concept of unity in plays such as the Andromache. This article offers a unified view of γέροντες in different Euripidean plays before applying this perspective to a closer analysis of Peleus’ portrayal, both to understand why Peleus ignores his age and to identify what this attitude reveals about the social world of the play. I discuss only old men rather than old women, because my primary focus is on constructing a framework to explain Peleus’ behaviour, and so I look at just the characters who most closely resemble him.

II. MENTIONS OF OLD AGE IN EURIPIDEAN DRAMA

Most characters in Euripides’ plays who discuss elderly men virtually all describe senescence as an unavoidable fact. For example, Andromache asks whether the bandits, seeing that her escort Peleus is old, will hesitate to attack them on the road (Andr. 754); and Hyllus’ servant questions whether it is prudent for Iolaus to join in battle against Eurystheus because the old man lacks the strength he once had (Heracl. 688). Falkner summarizes the vocabulary and stage direction used to characterize old age in Euripides’ works:

Falkner's description holds true in Peleus’ case, with this scene displaying both pathos and humour. His threat to beat Menelaus with a stick is funny because of its ridiculousness, but once the drama comes to actual conflict, and Peleus struggles futilely against the ropes around Andromache's arms, the scene becomes pathetic in tone. Where at first the dramatic framing presents the ludicrous incongruity between Peleus’ threats and his obvious incapacity, it now shows him trying in vain to loosen the bonds of Andromache, whom Euripides has to this point portrayed as the protagonist and proper recipient of the audience's pity (for example 495–500). The survival of mother and child from Menelaus’ murderous desire is the motivating objective of this scene, and Peleus’ inability to free them threatens the achievement of this objective; his failure thus infuses the moment with pathos, perhaps even a twinge of horror.

Euripides’ Athenian audience may still have found it funny to see Peleus flounder here, but this fact does not take away from the pathos created by the decrepit state of Andromache's would-be saviour. Drawing a convincing parallel to the Tiresias–Cadmus scene in the Bacchae, Seidensticker argues that the oft-discussed porter scene from Shakespeare's Macbeth has a ‘double impact’,Footnote ³ injecting the play with a levity that heightens the dramatic atmosphere rather than suspending it. The same is true on a smaller scale for this moment within a scene––if the audience laughs at this demonstration of Peleus’ frailty, the cruelty of this comic moment in a tense and high-stakes scene only accentuates its tragic import.

In the Bacchae, Tiresias and Cadmus cause laughter with their advanced years because their revelry is predicated on abandoning notions such as the propriety of age. The two old men seem to be aware of the comedy of the situation, as well as of the audience, and possibly even enjoy it: Tiresias denies that he fails to show the proper dignity to his own dotage (204–6), but his awareness that he is open to such criticism and Pentheus’ repetition of this judgement (251–2) suggest that the sight of wreathed and dancing old men did look ridiculous. Cadmus none the less delights in forgetting that he is old, and Tiresias agrees with this assessment (188–9). The scene may encourage the audience to direct at the two old men a cruel and mocking attitude, which Dillon ascribes to tragedy generally.Footnote ⁴ The mood later takes on an agonizing tone when Cadmus is forced to contemplate leaving his homeland as an old man (178–89, 1354–5). Falkner's analysis also accords with this method of reading moments that display the feebleness of old men. He describes Iolaus’ armed exit in the Heraclidae as ‘comical’, but he also says that ‘what the elderly can do in tragic abundance is suffer’.Footnote ⁵ The elderly may be comical in their infirmity, but the same object that inspires laughter and ridicule will have the double effect of making the tragedy more abundant.

Euripides’ old men also subvert and resist their old age, not just for humour and pathos but with narrative force. Neither outside parties nor the old men themselves shrink from describing wretchedness as the ‘irreducible essence of old age’,Footnote ⁶ but this is not a damning fact for them all. Amphitryon describes himself as ‘being nothing except a voice of the tongue’ and admits sadly to Heracles’ family that he would resist Lycus with force if he were young and able (229, 233–4) but, powerless to take on Lycus in a physical confrontation, he uses his wit to lure him into the palace where Heracles is lying in wait to kill him. He thus gains advantage over a physically dominant adversary and helps to dispense with him. In the Heraclidae, Iolaus bewails his frailty but insists on joining the fight against Eurystheus despite the odds that he will be of little help to his allies or even fall before landing a blow (684–91). He dons his armour as if he were a younger man, preventing the weakness of his body from condemning him to suffer as an old man. Cadmus and Tiresias also act incongruously with their senectitude and laugh at themselves and at the silliness of their revelry: Cadmus equates dancing with forgetting that he and Tiresias are old (ποῖ δεῖ χορεύειν, ποῖ καθιστάναι πόδα | καὶ κρᾶτα σεῖσαι πολιόν; … ἐπιλελήσμεθ᾿ ἡδέως | γέροντες ὄντες, Bacch. 184–5, 188–9). He then remarks that he acts like a child—that is, distinctly unlike a γέρων—in leading Tiresias by the arm (193). However, neither remarks that their celebration is normally stifled by their physical limitations. The old men of the Bacchae contrast with the other Euripidean γέροντες in that their old age is not an obstacle to struggle against or a condition to be denied but rather a necessary state that can be suspended temporarily when one is not socially constrained to being geriatric. They thus reveal that it is not the wretchedness of age that makes one wretched but the conditions of his surroundings, which force wretchedness upon him or allow him to put it off for a time.

Even with their resistance to old age, some of these men act in advisory capacities rather than entering the fray themselves. Amphitryon advises Megara to hold out hope against her death at Lycus’ hands (HF 88–106), and both Tiresias and Cadmus warn Pentheus to worship Dionysus whether he believes in him or not (Bacch. 312–13, 341–2). Iolaus is the odd one out because he does not counsel anyone, although not for lack of trying. He attempts numerous times to guide the actions of younger characters, but they refuse his counsel as impossible or ignoble, for example when he urges Demophon to sacrifice him to Eurystheus, but both Demophon and the chorus reject his plea (Heracl. 451–73). These rejections prevent him from taking on the role of advisor because the consultatory relationships that Euripidean old men strike up are often informal. Temmerman and Boas have developed the characterization framework of ‘group membership’, which is helpful for making this distinction. They define group membership characterization as a means of inferring ‘traits and dispositions … from a character's associations with certain macro-social, micro-social and educative intellectual groups (such associations may include those of ethnicity, gender, age, religious group, class, family, wealth, etc.)’––in other words, considering the ways in which a character engages with his social position and negotiates the different groups in which he is embedded.Footnote ⁷ Within this analytic framework, ‘advisor’ is a social position and not an isolated character trait. Iolaus’ situation is unlike that of the Trojan δημογέροντες seen in the Iliad (3.149–55), whose roles are formalized––they are called ‘leaders of the Trojans’ (Τρῴων ἡγήτορες, 3.153) and have a customary place at the gates of the city. Each δημογέρων belongs to an established social group that has a place of leadership in Trojan society, and his interactions with others in the city are influenced by the general awareness of his association with this group. In contrast, an informal consultatory relationship depends on the exhorted party's acceptance of the exhorter's counsel, without which the latter cannot occupy such a role. To take a prominent example, ‘mentor’ has become the word for a trusted advisor not because Mentor tells Telemachus what to do but because Telemachus heeds his advice.Footnote ⁸ Later on, Odysseus, disguised as an old man, tries to advise Irus not to push him out of the doorway while he is disguised as an old man. Irus responds with ire rather than obedience (Od. 18.14–31), rejecting Odysseus as an advisor and preventing him from assuming such a relationship even briefly. Iolaus’ situation most closely resembles this last case, since the only characters over whom he might have a claim to formal authority are the silent and helpless children of Heracles.

Iolaus is also the only old man who sallies into battle and displays any plot-relevant physical prowess (Cadmus and Tiresias seem to find rejuvenation in their dance together at the beginning of the Bacchae, but whether or not they dance well is unimportant to the plot), and it may be the failure of his attempt to give effective counsel that causes him to rejuvenate in battle, for he has no other means of advancing his mission to protect Heracles’ children. Amphitryon aids Heracles in slaying Lycus, but only through the deceit of luring him into the palace. He does not participate in the conflict directly, but merely facilitates it, effectively another form of counsel. It appears that Euripides constructs a dichotomy between the advisor and the warrior roles for the γέρων. He can either give good counsel or cast off his old age to participate successfully in conflicts directly, but not both.

It is possible that only some or even none of the lost works of Euripides fitted this pattern. The fragmentary Dictys may have featured the titular character both advising and fighting successfully (although Karamanou does not think so).Footnote ⁹ Their rediscovery would enable a refinement or perhaps even necessitate a reconstruction of my argument. However, speculation about works that we do not possess is unhelpful, and the model usefully describes the relationship of old age to the aged man in the relevant texts of what Euripidean works survive.Footnote ¹⁰ At any rate, I do not propose this model as an ironclad rule but as a broadly applicable model that can help understand Euripidean γέροντες through the lens of old age. An old man's departure from the model can be equally illuminating, as the example of Peleus shows below.

Peleus is unique among the γέροντες discussed here both because he breaks the counsel-action dichotomy to embody aspects of each side and because he alone denies the fact of his age outright. Menelaus taunts him by claiming first that a man finds great strength in his hands and second that Peleus is very old, and the coordination of these remarks suggests that Peleus has lost his physical strength. Peleus ignores the insult, implicitly dismissing it as ridiculous (675–8). When Andromache voices her concerns about his physical ability to protect them, Peleus insists that he is far more youthful than she thinks. Here he might admit that he is elderly, but περ appearing by itself with a participle, as is the case in Peleus’ πρέσβυς περ ὤν, need not be concessive (763).Footnote ¹¹ It seems more likely in context that the participle is conditional rather than concessive here—‘even if I am old’ or ‘however old I am’—since it would be strange for Peleus to admit his age having just denied it and not been pressed to speak differently. Even if the participle is concessive, this would be one of only two times that Peleus acknowledges his age until the report of Neoptolemus’ death, and in both cases he denies that his dotage holds him back (717–18). Despite boasting, however, Peleus fails to convince anyone of his vigour. When the chorus cheers him, it cites his long-past accomplishments as a warrior and Argonaut rather than praising his current strength in the manner that the messenger lauds Iolaus’ exploits on the battlefield (Andr. 790–3; Heracl. 859–66).

Peleus also betrays the lack of substance to his bravado when he engages Menelaus in a battle of words and not of weapons. Euripides could have had Peleus take on Menelaus offstage as he has Iolaus do in the Heraclidae and Orestes in the Andromache itself, but chooses instead to have Peleus wield his speech as a weapon. He complicates the trope of the aged advisor where Iolaus abandons it, combining its aspects with that of a robust warrior (perhaps the absent Neoptolemus?). He prevails against Menelaus by using his speech, strengthened by time in contrast to his weakened body, to fight the battle. He thus brings together characteristics of each side of Euripides’ dichotomy, creating a composite character who fights with his words. It should not surprise, then, that Peleus’ speech is densely rhetorical in his ἀγών against Menelaus, where his words stand in for physical violence. However, Peleus does not perfectly unify both roles: counselling an ἀγωνιστής and being one are incompatible, and so Peleus sheds his advisory role in order to enter the fray himself.

III. THE SOURCE OF THE OLD MAN'S POWER

Peleus’ pre-contest posturing fails to convince, but Menelaus does not resort to violence when arguing with the old man gets him nowhere. He is soundly defeated by Peleus in the verbal ἀγών, which Hermione later confirms to Orestes (917–18), yet he could still conceivably take Andromache and her son by force. Since Peleus agrees that the Spartan king, as father-in-law, shares the prerogative of managing Neoptolemus’ property in the latter's absence, it is hard to imagine who would be able to stop Menelaus from doing so as Heracles did with Lycus (HF 585). The reason he does not contest Peleus’ power further is therefore curious. Peleus himself says that his claim to authority stems from his superior courage, which would make many cowardly young men run away in fear (Andr. 764–5). Iolaus cites a similar rule of courage (Heracl. 687), but the context surrounding the men's statements suggests a different reason. Peleus proclaims that he has arrived at a critical time to renew his youthful strength when he first appears onstage to defend Andromache (Andr. 550–3), and Iolaus is motivated by a comparable desire to defend the children of Heracles, which he states in his opening monologue (Heracl. 26–30). It stands to reason that this desire is the origin of the will he finds to resist the old age that hampers him.

But what motivates Peleus to defend Andromache, and what allows him to regain his strength? The rhetoric of his speeches in and around the ἀγών provides clues. By accusing Menelaus of not fighting in the Trojan War and of letting others fight for him (697–8), Peleus suggests that he does not believe that Menelaus will have the courage to be violent now himself. In doing so he takes away Menelaus’ ability to intimidate with threats. Hypocritically, though, Peleus uses to his own advantage the same technique for which he accuses Menelaus of cowardice. Three of Peleus’ four threats of violence against Menelaus claim the violent capacities of others for himself: he threatens that Molossus will exact revenge on Menelaus for killing Andromache (624–35); he says that Neoptolemus will cast Menelaus and Hermione out of Phthia (706–12); and finally he tells Andromache after the ἀγών that he can guarantee her safety because he commands a large army (759–62), which he does only because Neoptolemus has vacated the crown to him. In the second and third of these instances Peleus claims the physical ability of other men for himself explicitly (he says ‘I will show you [δείξω]’ not to regard Paris as a greater threat than Peleus himself [706–7]), and in the first instance he does so implicitly by prefacing the speech with a threat to bloody Menelaus’ head personally (588). He clearly cannot make good on these threats because Neoptolemus is far away, Molossus is still a young child, and the Phthian army will take a long time to assemble, not to mention that it is not his by rights.

The obvious hypocrisy of this trick hints at an underlying motivation for Peleus’ desire to defend Andromache and why he threatens violence. It can be speculated that he takes on the role of the youthful hero despite his age because he fulfils the role of the manager of Neoptolemus’ οἶκος in his grandson's absence. In this capacity Peleus is right to chastise Menelaus for mismanaging Neoptolemus’ estate (586, 632–4) and to castigate the childless Hermione, whose barren womb damages the security of the Aeacid house (for example 711–12). Neoptolemus’ death later in the play reinforces this reading: immediately upon hearing of the news, Peleus loses the strength to stand on his own and drops all pretence of youthful vigour. Instead, he describes himself as being at the extremity of old age, with the implication that he cannot go on if his progeny do not survive (1081). This dramatic change finds parallels in Euripides’ other works: Cadmus loses his energy for carousing and comports himself with grief in his first onstage appearance after Pentheus is killed (Bacch. 1216–21). Amphitryon, for his part, makes his son's well-being his priority after Heracles’ murderous rampage, imploring the chorus to let Heracles forget his troubles in sleep (HF 1042–4). He stands by Heracles to the end but, unlike Cadmus and Neoptolemus, Heracles remains alive, symbolically keeping open the office of κύριος in which Amphitryon can retain his strength and authority by fulfilling it. Another parallel can be drawn here to the Andromache, since Peleus’ apparent rejuvenation in the play's final scene is accompanied by the news that Achilles has apotheosized and is living on Leuke, as well as Thetis’ proclamation that Peleus’ stock ‘need not be destroyed’ (1249–50). Equipped with this information, Peleus now has two paths by which he can assume the role of κύριος; in the case of Molossus especially, Peleus can stand in for a future κύριος who is presently too young to assert his own authority over the οἶκος.

The rhetoric of Peleus’ speech in this scene provides further insight into how his threats of violence succeed in defeating Menelaus. His lines before the ἀγών are dense with direct questions, which Sansone describes as characteristically rhetorical,Footnote ¹² even as the onstage action devolves into stichomythia between him and Menelaus. Peleus abandons rhetorical advances, however, and opts for threats of violence as he readies himself for the ἀγών against Menelaus, only to increase his rhetorical force in the contest. Curiously, Peleus also concludes each of his speeches against both Menelaus and Hermione with a threat. He thus bookends the entire contest with these threats of violence (Menelaus speaks second but delivers only one speech), marking it as an extended digression from the narrative of the play.

Boxing off the ἀγών from the rest of the narrative invites a figurative interpretation of Peleus and Menelaus’ verbal sparring. The abrupt change in register suggests that Peleus is metadramatically self-conscious––namely, that he understands he is a character in a play and is bound by the conventions of drama both as literary genre and performance art. Peleus’ jump between registers acknowledges the combative sense of the word ἀγών, calling to attention how the dramatic convention of a ‘contest’ is rendered on the stage. With the stylistic jump Peleus temporarily casts off the skilled rhetoric that he uses both against Menelaus and later to encourage Andromache. He instead assumes a less studied and eloquent means of communication, which one might rather expect from a youth with less life experience and more physical ability to achieve his ends by force. This implication emphasizes Peleus’ departure from the role of the old man as ancillary to the dramatic plot from the moment that he stands in Menelaus’ way, literally inserting himself into the hero's place.

Inside the ἀγών, however, Peleus resumes and intensifies his rhetorical advances. He continues to question Menelaus aggressively with anaphoric polyptoton of the second-person pronoun (that is, beginning consecutive lines with the same word in a different grammatical case), emphatically jabbing a verbal finger at the Spartan king to cast an accusatory spotlight on him (σὺ γὰρ … σοὶ ποῦ …, 590–1). These questions frame a rhetorical campaign of character assassination against Menelaus.Footnote ¹³ Peleus chooses not to disprove Menelaus’ claims to authority with evidence but rather to destroy his credibility with attacks ad hominem, including accusations of Menelaus’ inability to control his own household and his cowardly unwillingness to slay Helen upon finding her at Troy.

Peleus reveals later that he dissociates bravery from physical strength in his comment to Andromache that ‘an old man is greater than many young men if he is brave’ (πολλῶν νέων γὰρ καὶ γέρων εὔψυχος ὢν | κρείσσων, 764–5). This claim is self-consciously rhetorical: bravery gives the appearance of strength rather than the substance, which mirrors the criticism levelled by contemporary writers such as Aristophanes that skilled speaking deceives by making a weaker case appear the stronger despite lacking substance (for example Ar. Nub. 512–18). On a metadramatic level Peleus’ forceful rhetoric, where it stands as a proxy for onstage violence, suggests that he really has been rejuvenated by the need to defend his οἶκος strongly. This reading of the ἀγών places Peleus in an ambiguous state between old and young, which also adds credence to his rejuvenation at the end of the play. On a dramatic level the separation of bravery from strength allows courage to retain the persuasive promise of violent force on its own, turning the bravery to engage in a confrontation and to threaten force into a violent act itself.

Even so, this reading does not satisfy the question of why Menelaus capitulates to Peleus’ argument. In his speech, Menelaus defends himself against the claims that he has mismanaged his own house and is mismanaging Neoptolemus’ by arguing that a stable house is not properly managed if it does not consist of Greeks (663–7); in other words, ‘one who hates what is not just’ (μισῶν τὰ μὴ δίκαια, 667) must think it more prudent to have a poorly managed estate of Greek inheritance than a well-managed estate of barbarian inheritance, and Peleus has lost his wisdom if he disagrees with this assessment (645–54). This argument attempts to clear Helen of the charge of infidelity and Hermione of childlessness, or at least to depict them as preferable to allowing a foreign woman to bear the heirs to a Greek οἶκος. Most importantly, it tries to justify Menelaus’ campaign to reclaim Helen rather than to exact revenge upon her, casting Menelaus as within his rights to use force for the management of his house and by extension of any other house under his authority (585). That permission for violence would now translate into the murder of Andromache (309–16), and possibly even of Peleus.

But Peleus’ response robs Menelaus of this opportunity in his second speech by shaming him in a way that deprives the Spartan king of his physical power. Peleus strips Menelaus of any authority he has over any house by denying that the Spartan deserves credit for the Greek victory at Troy, saying instead that he and Agamemnon are magnified by the toils and hardships of others (μόχθοισιν ἄλλων καὶ πόνοις ἐπηρμένοι, 705) but not done the work themselves (οὐ τῶν πονούντων τοὔργον ἡγοῦνται τόδε, 695). Combined with the earlier accusation that Menelaus returned from Troy with his weapons in the same condition as when he left (616–17), Peleus has called Menelaus’ bluff. If Menelaus did not fight in Troy because he does not have physical power of his own and merely claimed the success of the Greek armies for himself, he will be unable to enforce his view of proper household management over that of Peleus. Following the identification of Menelaus’ weakness, Peleus asks if he had Andromache bound so securely because he feared her revenge upon him (ἢ μὴ ξίφος λαβοῦσ᾿ ἀμυνάθοιτό σε | ἔδεισας;, 721–2). This remark subordinates Menelaus’ limited strength to that of a woman, if he would have reason to fear being slaughtered by Andromache, and by extension even to the feebleness of a γέρων, since Peleus presents himself as physically superior and authoritative to women (for example 757). Also, because Menelaus himself claimed that a man's power lies in his physical strength, whereas a woman must rely on the men in her life to defend her interests, Peleus feminizes Menelaus here by taking away his claim to strength. Helen's spotty reputation aids Peleus in this effort, as the lack of chastity that Peleus ascribes to Spartan women and that is personified in Helen lays bare the subordination of Menelaus’ feeble strength to a woman's body. In contrast, Peleus successfully gives orders to both Andromache and Hermione, asserting himself above Menelaus even while a γέρων. With this circumstance from Peleus’ first speech in mind, the comedy of Peleus’ initial entrance is shifted onto Menelaus as the latter emerges as the weakest character, in contrast to his appearance.

IV. CHARACTERIZATION IN THE ANDROMACHE

The motivations of the γέροντες seem to hinge on familial relationships or other social obligations rather than on any divine impetus or individual desire. Falkner notices this trend specifically for Iolaus, but it holds true for the other old men discussed in this article, especially for Peleus. Applying this lens to Peleus in the broader social context of the Andromache finally clarifies why he postures as he does. He occupies the intersection between the two types of old men displayed in the other tragedies. Peleus is under threat by a foreign influence in the same way as Amphitryon and Iolaus are, but he is also a royal figure like Cadmus. Because of the combination of these two social roles, Peleus must fill the shoes of a much younger man as the κύριος in Neoptolemus’ absence. However, he is too old to resist Menelaus with brute force, so he must rely on his skill as a speaker and wield his courage and his words to defend his office against the usurping Spartan.

This view is reminiscent of the characterization framework proposed by Temmerman and Boas, discussed above. Their overall approach considers too many features of characterization simultaneously to be useful for a thematically focussed analysis such as the present one, but their ‘group membership’ category is helpful here as a starting point. As discussed, Peleus’ otherwise-confusing threats of physical violence are clarified in consideration of his contrasting motivations as a κύριος and as a cornered old man who eventually becomes a heartbroken grandfather bereft of progeny. This context makes his bravado in the ἀγών and his collapse upon the messenger's arrival understandable. Thematically speaking, these contending forces can be seen as competing group memberships, and the personal character of Peleus is formed by the negotiation between these social roles. Other persons in the play also negotiate Peleus’ various social roles. Andromache, for instance, approaches him as a suppliant appealing to his authority as the ruler of Phthia, but she could equally have presented herself to him as the mother of his great-grandson or the favoured concubine of Neoptolemus. It may indeed be for the sake of his male descendants’ personal interests that Peleus decides to defend Andromache and not solely for the stability of his grandson's οἶκος. He demonstrates this motivation when he defends Andromache not just because Menelaus taking her threatens his household (ἦ τὸν ἁμὸν οἶκον οἰκήσεις μολὼν | δεῦρ᾿;, 581–2) but because she is Neoptolemus’ personal property (οὑμὸς δέ γ᾿ αὐτὴν ἔλαβε παῖς παιδὸς γέρας, 584). He also seems to display this interest in his sudden rejuvenation upon learning from Thetis in the final scene that Neoptolemus’ son and his descendants will rule over Molossia (βασιλέα δ᾿ ἐκ τοῦδε χρὴ | ἄλλον δι᾿ ἄλλου διαπερᾶν Μολοσσίας | εὐδαιμονοῦντας, 1247–9) and that Achilles has achieved immortality in Leuke (1259–61).

Considering Peleus’ collapse upon the news of Neoptolemus’ death, his characterization can also be examined as a possible instance of ‘overliving’, a critical perspective introduced by Wilson.Footnote ¹⁴ Peleus appears to have lived past his καιρός, the point at which the coherent dramatic arc of his life was complete and he ought to have died. Unlike, say, Achilles, who chooses to meet a glorious and early end rather than escape to a long but ignominious life (Il. 9.410–15), Peleus survives into old age only to overlive owing to circumstances beyond his control and to see both his son and grandson killed. With Neoptolemus’ death, Peleus is robbed of the motivation to stand up to Menelaus, protect Andromache and defend the unity and integrity of his grandson's house. He has both outlived the usefulness of his role and failed to defend his house. Peleus now lives long enough to see that the lineage he sought to continue has effectively died out before him. This turn of events is reminiscent of Heracles’ predicament at the end of his eponymous play, where he sees his family dead in front of him. Like Heracles, Peleus is also led offstage by a newly arrived character to live elsewhere at the end of the play (compare Thetis and Theseus). Peleus’ lament additionally makes use of features common to tragic protagonists who overlive, such as the verbal repetition that signals existence without ‘change or growth or death’ (ὦ γάμος γάμος, 1186; cf. ὦ γάμοι γάμοι, Soph. OT 1403, which Wilson flags as an example of this convention; HF 1146–52 is also mirrored in Andr. 1173–80).Footnote ¹⁵

However, Peleus also transgresses the normal model of overliving advanced by Wilson. While he experiences and portrays the classical characteristics of overliving, he still has a purpose for which to live: his lineage continues through Molossus regardless of whether the boy will inherit the throne of Phthia.Footnote ¹⁶ Peleus can shift his aim to guarding his great-grandson in the same way that he probably adjusted to protecting his grandson upon the death of Achilles. For another thing, Peleus––unlike Oedipus in the Sophoclean plays or Heracles in the Hercules furens––is not obviously the tragic protagonist, being neither the title character nor responsible for the events that trigger his overliving. It is not his story. In fact, the whole motivation of his character is to support someone else's story, a story that unfolds offstage. This difference is reflected in the degree of redemption that Peleus experiences. Thetis promises a kingdom for Molossus, an immortal life for Peleus, and a resurrected Achilles (1243–53), while Heracles and Oedipus must live with all the consequences of their actions. On the other hand, the characteristic traits of overliving in Peleus’ narrative may imply that he is the tragic protagonist. Whether or not these characteristics amount to true overliving, they rely for their existence on the competing social roles that lay claim to Peleus; had Peleus not gone to great lengths to stand in as the κύριος for Neoptolemus, the fact that he outlives his grandson would not carry the dramatic force that enables the identification of tragic overliving.

Finally, the fact that this lens sharpens focus on Peleus’ characterization provides a thematic insight into the unity of the Andromache. While the tripartite plot is difficult to reconcile into a single storyline, as many scholars have pointed out,Footnote ¹⁷ it is a fruitful pursuit to approach the unity of the play as an exploration rather than an assertion of a theme, a method which has been suggested by Phillippo.Footnote ¹⁸ One possibly unifying theme appears consequent to viewing Peleus’ denial of his old age as indicative of the above framework for characterization in the play at large. The chorus’ acclamation of Peleus’ past accomplishments, fighting with the Lapiths against the Centaurs and sailing on the Argo (790–801), contrasts with Menelaus’ derision of his present old age and the multiple social roles he must fulfil (678). Whereas in the glorious past Peleus was both a warrior and a sailor, these are both subsets of the social role of the hero, who wins glory for the memory of posterity. In the present of the play, he is too old to be a hero and obliged in too many directions to fulfil only one social role. Looking only at Peleus, this suggests a decay of the world from the glorious past of Peleus’ youth into a world of fractured identities and competing social relations that prevent him from performing one to its greatest extent. This decay is also reflected in Menelaus, who appears more interested in micromanaging his son-in-law's domestic affairs than ruling his own household, in addition to abandoning the piety of treating a suppliant (Andromache) at the altar of a god as sacrosanct. The lack of respect for social conventions and abandonment or combination of traditional roles thus speaks to a decay more broadly of the heroic past into a messier present in which it is necessary for an old man to pretend he is more youthful than he is just to maintain the stability of his house.