A Comparative Look at Betrayal in the Norse Myths of the Völsungs and Euripides' House of Atreus Plays

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2016 Treacherous Ties: a Comparative Look at Betrayal in the Norse Myths of the Völsungs and Euripides' House of Atreus Plays

Baird, Dhanya

Baird, D. (2016). Treacherous Ties: a Comparative Look at Betrayal in the Norse Myths of the Völsungs and Euripides' House of Atreus Plays (Unpublished master's thesis). University of Calgary, Calgary, AB. doi:10.11575/PRISM/28521 http://hdl.handle.net/11023/3287 master thesis

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Treacherous Ties: a Comparative Look at Betrayal in the Norse Myths of the Völsungs and

Euripides' House of Atreus Plays

Dhanya Baird

A THESIS

SUBMITTED TO THE FACULTY OF GRADUATE STUDIES

IN PARTIAL FULFILMENT OF THE REQUIREMENTS FOR THE

DEGREE OF MASTER OF ARTS

GRADUATE PROGRAM IN GREEK AND ROMAN STUDIES

CALGARY, ALBERTA

SEPTEMBER, 2016

The Norse myths featuring the Völsung family and the Greek plays of Euripides are multigenerational mythic arcs containing many acts of betrayals. Yet there are key differences in the way betrayal features in each of the sets of stories studied. Through these differences, it is possible to determine the level of import given to specific family relationships in each of the mythic cycles’ two cultures. Some important differences occur in the way women are perceived in each culture and the level of importance given to close kin versus the society at large.

In both mythic cycles, however, betrayal is subject to public scrutiny. The opinion of the cultural group is what decides on the consequences enacted on the betrayer for an act of betrayal.

The concept of betrayal, despite being a conservative force, is revealed to be a social mechanism that can over time enact change on the values held by a cultural group.

ii Acknowledgements

I would like to thank my supervisor, Dr. Bertolin, for her continued assistance throughout my degree. In addition, I would like to thank Dr. Toohey for his guidance and advice throughout the writing of this thesis, Dr. McGillivray for very kindly agreeing to work with me on Old

Norse, and the members of my defence committee.

As well, I greatly appreciate the continued support of the Greek and Roman Studies department during the course of my studies and the continued patience of my family and friends during the writing process.

iii Table of Contents

Abstract ...... ii Acknowledgements ...... iii Table of Contents ...... iv

CHAPTER ONE: INTRODUCTION ...... 1 1.1 Introduction ...... 1 1.2 Towards a Definition of Betrayal ...... 4 1.2.1 The Structure of Betrayal ...... 4 1.2.2 The Betrayal Act ...... 5 1.2.3 The Betrayal Situation ...... 8

CHAPTER TWO: BETRAYAL IN EURIPIDES ...... 15 2.1 The Language of Betrayal ...... 15 2.2 Revelation of Character ...... 20 2.3 Public and Private Influences on a Definition of Betrayal ...... 23 2.4 The Audience of Betrayal ...... 25 2.5 Betrayal as Performance ...... 36 2.6 Gender and Betrayal ...... 38 2.7 The Effect of the Foreign on Betrayal ...... 42 2.8 Conclusion ...... 46

CHAPTER THREE: BETRAYAL IN THE TALES OF THE VÖLSUNGS ...... 47 3.1 The Language of Betrayal ...... 47 3.1.1 Introduction to the Tales of the Völsungs ...... 47 3.1.2 Three Words for Betrayal ...... 52 3.2 Betrayal of Expectations ...... 55 3.3 Gender and Betrayal ...... 63 3.3.1 Warnings of Betrayal ...... 63 3.3.2 Betrayal Accusations ...... 67 3.4 Betrayal and Fate ...... 71 3.5 Conclusion ...... 74

CHAPTER FOUR: COMPARATIVE ANALYSIS ...... 76 4.1 Introduction ...... 76 4.2 Betrayal Antecedents ...... 76 4.2.1 Introduction ...... 76 4.2.2 Betrayal Antecedents in Women ...... 76 4.2.3 Betrayal Antecedents in Men ...... 83 4.2.4 Conclusion ...... 87 4.3 The Betrayal Act ...... 88 4.4 Consequences of Betrayal ...... 92 4.4.1 Introduction ...... 92 4.4.2 Punishment for Men in the Tales of the Völsungs ...... 94 4.4.3 Punishment for Women in the Tales of the Völsungs ...... 95 4.4.4 Punishment for Men in the Plays of Euripides ...... 97

iv 4.4.5 Punishment for Women in the Plays of Euripides ...... 97 4.4.6 Conclusion ...... 99

CHAPTER FIVE: CONCLUSION ...... 101

WORKS CITED ...... 107

APPENDIX A: GREEK WORDS FOR BETRAYAL ...... 121 A.1 Alcestis ...... 121 A.2 Andromache ...... 123 A.3 Cyclops ...... 125 A.4 Electra ...... 125 A.5 Helen ...... 126 A.6 Heracleidae ...... 128 A.7 Heracles ...... 130 A.8 Hippolytus ...... 131 A.9 Ion ...... 132 A.10 Iphigenia at Aulis ...... 134 A.11 Iphigenia in Tauris ...... 135 A.12 Medea ...... 136 A.13 Orestes ...... 140 A.14 Phoenissae ...... 143 A.15 Suppliants ...... 145 A.16 The Trojan Women ...... 146

APPENDIX B: NORSE WORDS FOR BETRAYAL ...... 148 B.1 Poetic Edda ...... 148 B.1.1 Helgakviða Hundingsbana ǫnnor (The Second lay of Helgi Hundingsbani)148 B.1.2 Grípisspá (Gripir’s Prophecy) ...... 148 B.1.3 Fáfnismál (The Lay of Fafnir) ...... 150 B.1.4 Sigrdrífomál (The Lay of Sigrdrifa) ...... 150 B.1.5 Brot af Sigurðarqviðo (Fragment of a Poem about Sigurd) ...... 151 B.1.6 Sigurðarqviða in Scamma (Short Poem about Sigurd) ...... 151 B.1.7 Helreið Brynhildar (Brynhild’s Ride to Hell) ...... 152 B.1.8 Oddrúnargrátr (Oddrun’s Lament) ...... 152 B.1.9 Atlaqviða in Grœnlenzca (The Lay of Atli) ...... 152 B.1.10 Atlamál in Grœnlenzco (The Greenlandic Poem of Atli) ...... 152 B.2 Völsunga Saga ...... 153

Chapter One: Introduction

1.1 Introduction

What is betrayal? For a concept found in so many differing cultures, with different words in so many languages, is one definition possible? Specifically, can a study of the definition of betrayal – and the areas in which this definition differs – tell us anything about mythological literature and the specific cultures in which the texts were created?

Acts of betrayal are pervasive in mythological texts. Due to the central role family played in many ancient societies, stories revolving around bonds within a family frequently involve acts of betrayal. In many mythological families, acts of betrayal are spread throughout many generations, with brothers killing brothers and wives destroying husbands. Two such multigenerational mythological arcs involve the Greek House of Atreus – featuring such famous members as Menelaus and Agamemnon – and the Norse descendants of Völsung – of which the most famous is the hero Sigurd. It is betrayal within these two mythological families, decimated from generation to generation by internal strife to the near destruction of both bloodlines, that is the concern of this work – primarily through discussion of betrayals between those family members related by blood, with those who marry into the family discussed more briefly, wherever their stories help make sense of the decisions and situations of genetically linked family members.

For the House of Atreus, I will focus on texts by the playwright Euripides, as he has one of the largest extant bodies of work detailing the lives of the descendants of Atreus – of his extant plays Andromache, Hecuba, Electra, Trojan Women, Iphigenia in Tauris, Helen, Orestes, and Iphigenia at Aulis, all feature such descendants in prominent roles. Due to my primary focus on family members related by blood, Electra, Iphigenia in Tauris, Orestes, and Iphigenia at

Aulis (the four plays named after the descendants of Atreus) are of particular interest here. These four plays were not all written during the same period, but rather span much of Euripides’ career.1 This means that, when considering betrayal in Euripides, his ideas had a great deal of time to evolve.

For the family of Völsung I will utilize the Poetic Edda, a collection of Old Norse poems found in a manuscript called the Codex Regius. There was no one single author of the collection, and various of the poems were composed at different dates. The Codex Regius in the form currently existing was likely compiled at around 1270 (although some theories have it being created as much as a century later (Anderson 25)), but several of the poems seem to predate this

(Clark 6-7). In the Codex Regius, 17 of the poems deal with the Völsung line. Two of these poems – Helgakviða Hundingsbana in fyrri (The First Lay of Helgi Hundingsbani), and

Helgakviða Hundingsbana ǫnnor (The Second lay of Helgi Hundingsbani), – are about Sigurd’s older half-brother Helgi, and contain few of the characters from the later poems. The remainder of the 17 poems – Grípisspá (Gripir’s Prophecy), Reginsmál (The Lay of Regin), Fáfnismál (The

Lay of Fafnir), Sigrdrífomál (The Lay of Sigrdrifa), Brot af Sigurðarqviðo (Fragment of a Poem about Sigurd), Guðrúnarqviða in Fyrsta (The First Lay of Gudrun), Sigurðarqviða in Scamma

(Short Poem about Sigurd), Helreið Brynhildar (Brynhild’s Ride to Hell), Guðrúnarqviða ǫnnor

(The Second Lay of Gudrun), Guðrúnarqviða (The Third Lay of Gudrun), Oddrúnargrátr

(Oddrun’s Lament), Atlaqviða in Grœnlenzca (The Lay of Atli), Atlamál in Grœnlenzco (The

Greenlandic Poem of Atli), Guðrúnarhvǫt (The Whetting of Gudrun), and Hamðismál (The Lay of Hamdir) – follow the exploits of Sigurd the Dragonslayer, his descendants, and his wife

1 The dates for most of his works are hotly disputed. It seems likely that Electra was produced sometime between 422-413 B.C. (Cropp 31), although some argue specifically for 413 B.C. (Denniston xxxiii). Iphigenia in Tauris was 2

Gudrun’s family. As these poems contain some of the oldest surviving Völsung stories, they are the logical place to begin. However, this set of texts is somewhat problematic for a comprehensive look at the Völsung line, as an entire quire of the Codex Regius is missing

(Anderson 23). Therefore, it is useful to supplement a study of the heroic poems of the Poetic

Edda with the prose Völsunga Saga2, which fills in some of the gaps left from missing parts of the Codex Regius. The Saga was likely written in the later part of the thirteenth century, and it seems extremely likely from a study of the language that the writer of the text was familiar with the poems contained in the Codex Regius, possibly in some earlier form (25). However, the author appears to have been familiar with more sources than have survived the centuries, as any gaps found in the Codex Regius texts are here filled. Using the texts together, it is possible to gain some concept of the ideas the myths of the Völsungs present about betrayal.

My investigation studies cultural history, which means I am focused on determining how the individual societies studied differ in their definition of betrayal and what this can determine about the culture. From these cultural definitions, I attempt a definition of what betrayal may mean at a broader cultural level – whether there are societal pressures that remain the same between certain Indo-European cultures. Ultimately, this will lead to a definition of betrayal as a source of social and individual change. This definition can then perhaps be extrapolated to apply beyond the context of the Greek and Nordic cultures studied here.

2 For the Völsunga Saga, I am using the version of the text found in Sophus Bugge’s 1865 work Det Norske Oldskriftselskabs, Volume 8. Page and line numbers correspond to this version of the text. There are no line numbers provided in Byock’s translation, so only page numbers are used for this version. 3

1.2 Towards a Definition of Betrayal

1.2.1 The Structure of Betrayal

What is betrayal? In order to understand the basic concepts underlying this phenomenon, it is helpful to turn to language used in the study of a somewhat different phenomenon – jealousy. In the most recent classical treatment of the subject, Sanders notes that jealousy involves a triangular relationship. The three sides of this triangle are the person feeling jealousy, a rival who triggers the jealousy, and the person or object whom the jealous person guards jealously (28). Toohey, whose work is not focused on the classical period, agrees with this assessment, describing jealousy as a “triadic” emotion (18). Like jealousy, betrayal is triadic. It involves at least two sentient participants – one doing the betraying, and one being betrayed; the third side of the triangle can be either a person or an object – the person or object the betrayer values over the betrayed. In addition to the terms used to describe the triadic situation, there are two other key terms needed to discuss betrayal. I will use the terms (1) ‘betrayer’ and (2)

‘betrayed’, respectively, to describe the first two participants in the triadic act of betrayal.

(Although ‘traitor’ is a term generally used to define someone who betrays, it is too closely associated with the idea of country, and betrayal thereof, to make it useful in this discussion, which is focused on all types of betrayals.) The third triadic participant I will call the (3) object of conflict. Further, I will employ the term (4) ‘betrayal act’ to describe the actual moment of betrayal, while (5) ‘betrayal situation’ describes the entire set of circumstances surrounding a betrayal act, from the decision process leading up to the betrayal act to the repercussions of the betrayal act. These last two terms – the betrayal act and the betrayal situation – deserve more definition, as they describe extremely specific situations.

1.2.2 The Betrayal Act

While there is a great deal written on the topic of betrayal, the majority of these writings are from a sociological perspective, rather than a perspective of literary analysis. The majority of texts focus on studying betrayal and its effects on modern romantic partnerships (for example, see Wiederman and LaMar, Haden and Hojjat, Lishner et al., Shackelford and Buss, Leeker and

Carlozzi, Shackelford et al. “Emotional”, Shackelford et al. “Forgiveness”, Treger and Sprecher) and business relationships (for example, see Aimone and Houser, Houser and Wooders, Krantz,

Elangovan and Shapiro, Grégoire and Fisher). The few sources that do focus on literary analysis

(see Turnatari) deal with mythology only in passing, and are primarily concerned with more recent literary sources than those discussed here. However, all of these sources are quite useful in establishing a rough working definition of betrayal as it is identified in our academic world today. This definition can then be compared and contrasted with definitions gleaned from Greek and Norse texts.

Whisman and Wagers define the betrayal act as a “violation… of expectations” (1384) committed by an individual (the betrayer) or group of individuals that causes pain to the betrayed

(Haden and Hojjat 102). Although violation is a charged word, it is useful in the context of studying how the idea of the betrayal act is perceived by a society. Such betrayal acts are “more widespread in transitional phases and times of instability or social change” (Turnaturi 104). In more stable times, there are fewer pressures forcing individuals to make difficult decisions about where their loyalties lie, allowing even relationships with some flaws to survive intact. A

violation must be committed by someone trusted by the betrayed3, as otherwise the action, even if it causes considerable harm, is usually not considered a betrayal act (Rachman 304). Jones et al. believe that this is because while those who are not close to an individual can violate “some global rule of public behaviour” (235), only those who are trusted can violate rules reflecting an

“understanding unique to the relationship bond” (235). For example, a murder is a serious crime, which is a violation of public rules against such forms of harm. However, the murdered individual is not betrayed unless there was a personal bond with the killer. Such would be the case, for example, if the murdered individual were the child of the murderer. It is societally expected that an individual will feel more pain when the more intimate type of rule that governs a personal relationship is violated than when a rule governing public behaviour is, as the violation is thought to negatively affect the betrayed’s own sense of identity. Turnatari expresses the rather passionate belief that such a violation causes those betrayed to erase an image of themselves as “part of a shared experience” (Turnatari 29), thus forcing them into a redefinition of who they are, now that they have lost a group identity. For example, if Person A (Anne) and

Person B (Bob) are in a relationship, they may have a group of friends who are friends of both, activities that one or the other enjoys that they do together, and a set of compromises on certain behaviours that they have arranged to make the relationship work more smoothly. If Anne then cheats on Bob, Bob may be left uncertain of which friends will remain his if he makes the betrayal public, whether he enjoys any of the activities he used to now that he must do them alone, and whether he still wishes to respect the compromises he has agreed to in his relationship

3 I here use the definition of trust adopted by Hong and Bohnet, in whose work trust is defined as the willingness of individuals to be vulnerable with others based on the expectation that the others’ intentions and behaviours will be in their favour (198). 6

now that Anne has broken other rules of the relationship. Every aspect of Bob’s life may be altered by the betrayal.

Åkerström notes that human beings “tend to demand a permanency from each other – that is, we should not change our views” (69). She observes that such a permanence can be demanded even about tiny things, such as when tiny preferences change over time. This is because when change occurs in a relationship, it can be difficult for the other person or people in the relationship to know their new role in the relationship. According to this theory, even something small, like a differing opinion on cooked broccoli than that held three years prior, can be reacted to as a tiny betrayal act, because it forces those others in the relationship to change a portion of themselves and their accustomed behaviour without consenting to such a change. Something the betrayed thought was permanent has been destroyed (Turnaturi 20). The betrayer’s fault is “to be moving forward alone rather than in synchrony with the other” (21). A betrayal act is often considered to be the choosing of one facet of identity over a second facet of identity, and thus the abandonment of the people involved with that second facet of identity (40). For example, if Anne had a special pet name for Bob that was based on his hatred for cooked broccoli, then if he suddenly decided he enjoyed cooked broccoli, certain elements of their relationship that were important to Anne would suddenly change without her consent. Due to the previously detailed cultural definition of betrayal in modern society, Anne may deem this a betrayal act.

The sociologist Georg Simmel discusses the idea of boundary lines between individuals.

These boundary lines are inviolable, meaning that the only information about an individual that can pass them is the information that the individual chooses to make known. However, this lack of information causes problems when two or more people become grouped together, as identifying oneself as part of a group requires some trust of the members of the group, and it is

difficult to trust a person about whom only “arbitrary and incoherent fragments” can be discovered (Social 54). So when two sets of boundary lines meet it is necessary for one individual to construct certain sections of the other’s character and nature from “conclusions, interpretations and interpolations” (54), as this is the only way to obtain enough information to really feel as though one knows and can trust the other. Simmel stresses that this construction is not really who the other is, and that it is impossible to ever truly know the other. The ability of human beings to form such conclusions about another person is aided by the human tendency to categorize. Anyone an individual meets tends to be placed into preexisting categories in the individual’s mind – whether it be a category of “good”, “young”, “teacher”, etc. (Individuality

10). Each other person that an individual meets is placed into a set of categorical boxes that allow the individual to feel confident in the individual’s knowledge of and, potentially, trust in the other person. This means that society is bound together by a multitude of boundaries barely touching other the boundaries of other people, and is held together by assumptions.

The betrayal act is what occurs when one person forcibly rips away this illusion of knowing the other by doing something that a person’s understanding of the other does not allow.

Thus, according to this theory, while Bob’s new decision to love cooked broccoli may seem small, it can be extremely important to Anne as it rips away her illusion that she knows Bob at all

(Turnaturi 20).

1.2.3 The Betrayal Situation

An examination of the societal relevance of betrayal cannot focus only on the betrayal act itself. This is because studying only the betrayal act ignores the factors leading up to the act and the societal reaction following the act.

A betrayal act is often recognized as a choice, in which the betrayer has chosen not to favour the betrayed in a moment of conflicting loyalties. As Baxter et al. argue, loyalty only makes sense when in competition with disloyalty. An action is only loyal if there’s the option to side with someone else. Similarly, each loyal act is being disloyal to someone else, as it is choosing that person above a different bond. By altering the tiny elements of a relationship, the individual doing such altering is changing, and not necessarily changing in a direction in which the other person in the relationship can follow. Small changes can be symbolic of a larger lack of understanding of the other person in the relationship (660).

Elangovan and Shapiro claim that intentional acts of betrayal are the outcome of an intensive decision making process which weighs the pros and cons of each action for the individual making the choice. In the opinion of Elangovan and Shapiro, betrayal is not usually an impulse decision (552). Rather, it is an act that is only committed if there is little enough expectation of penalty to the betrayer to make it worthwhile (553). This means that not only is betrayal a choosing of one loyalty over another, but the choice of a more advantageous loyalty over a less advantageous. It is through this element of choice – the choice to rupture one bond over another – that betrayal acts reveal the weakest of a person’s bonds, and thus, potentially, the weakest types of bond that exist in a society. This moment of choice is a key factor leading up to a betrayal act, as it is the moment in which the betrayal act is decided, after which point it is harder and harder for the betrayer to turn back, as the preparation for the betrayal act is already set in motion.

For all of these reasons, a betrayal act has a huge effect on the person betrayed. Betrayed individuals studied by sociologists have repeatedly reported experiencing low self-esteem, extreme distress, an inability to think about anything else but the betrayal (Rachman 306,

Aimone and Houser 574), and in extreme cases even PTSD-like symptoms (Rachman 310).

There is a sense of wasted or non-existing time for the betrayed. Suddenly the entire time spent with the betrayer seems to have been a lie, changing not just the future with the betrayer, but also changing the betrayed’s sense of the past. Since the past with the betrayer now feels like a lie, the betrayed feels as though this time is lost. It is no longer time of which the betrayed is able to form an accurate mental image, as there were aspects of it about which the betrayed did not know – the aspects which eventually could lead to a completely unexpected betrayal (Turnaturi

22-23). For example, after Bob learns of Anne’s adultery, he may spend much of his time wondering which of the moments between him and Anne had been real. Perhaps she was actually thinking of her lover when they were dancing together. Perhaps this explained her sudden dislike of their shared Netflix subscription. She has withheld information from him before, so he is unable to trust her descriptions of her time with her lover, and that she was only with him once.

Even if she was, who knows how many other such affairs she has had, or has thought about having. This is in contrast to the attitude of the betrayer, who often considers the act of betrayal to be but a moment, and is therefore unable to understand how hard the betrayal is to forgive (24-

25). Anne may feel that it was one single night that she spent with her lover. She knows she has no emotional attachment to the other man, and therefore is unable to understand why Bob cannot forgive her. Emotion is a key part of the cultural understanding of betrayal.

Due to the harm that betrayal does to the betrayed, the betrayed is more likely to want revenge than if wounded by someone who was not trusted (Grégoire et al. 30). This occurs in an attempt to “restore fairness”, bringing a new equality to the relationship through the betrayed’s reparation or retribution (Grégoire and Fisher 248). Often, betrayed individuals respond by acts of aggression – either verbal or physical – towards the betrayer. The level of aggressive response

is often dependent on the depth of the relationship betrayed, with closer relationships inspiring a greater reaction (Haden and Hojjat 112). This powerful reaction to betrayal is not limited to the people involved directly in a betrayal act. People are more likely to assign a greater level of punishment to crimes featuring betrayal than crimes without this betrayal aspect (Aimone and

Houser 575). This makes sense. If acts of betrayal were socially acceptable, there would be less reason for people not to engage in them, which would be destructive to society, as it would mean that people were allowed to break societally established guidelines of behaviour. It is in everyone’s best interests to punish betrayal acts harshly.

Perceived intent seemingly plays an important role in the culturally mandated perception of and response to betrayal. Betrayed individuals are much more likely to forgive their betrayers if they discover that the betrayer did not intend to betray (Hong and Bohnet 200). Betrayals stemming from any other cause than deliberate action, be it accident, misunderstanding, or lack of information for the betrayer to make an informed choice, make betrayed individuals look more favourably on their betrayers. In order to fully be considered a betrayal by a betrayed, the betrayal needs to be an intentional act (Grégoire and Fisher 250, Rachman 304, Finkel et al.

957). Say that Anne only kissed another man. If the man kissed her and Anne reciprocated, rather than initiating the kiss, Bob may be less affected, as Anne did not go into the situation intending to betray him. It is important to note that this depends not on the actual truth of what events did or did not occur, and what the betrayer did or did not do, but on what the betrayed believes or imagines occurred (Rachman 305). This applies as well to the societal group observing an act of betrayal, who allow the betrayer an opportunity to be perceived as innocent of betrayal. Even if the betrayer intended betrayal, if he or she is able to persuade the betrayed and the court of public opinion that this betrayal was unintentional, the act can come to be

considered not one of betrayal. According to these sources (Grégoire and Fisher 250, Rachman

304, Finkel et al. 957), intent is societally deemed an essential part of betrayal in Western cultures, and seemingly, the level of intent dictates the level of response the betrayed is encouraged to express.

Obviously the importance of the court of public opinion creates some difference in the way different people in different situations are able to respond to betrayal. Those who are more advantaged are capable of telling their story to a broader audience, and often have the weight of their reputations behind them. Good reputation makes moral failings harder to believe of a person, and makes a person more likely to be trusted than someone with a lesser reputation

(Houser and Wooders 367). Social rank is particularly important, as a higher ranked individual often has powerful friends able to identify the person as not a betrayer (Åkerström 111). This aspect of betrayal becomes particularly important when we stop dealing with the level of everyday betrayals, such as Anne’s betrayal of Bob, and instead focus on the sorts of betrayals that can affect the larger societal grouping, such as the events that occur in either of the mythic arcs I will be studying. It is at this level that betrayal’s devastating effects and social significance can be most clearly seen, due to the large scale of the events involved and the wide fallout from such events.

Åkerström notes that sometimes betrayal can be seen as noble. She breaks betrayers up into categories – including those who betray but are never accused of such a betrayal. Even if people have committed an act of betrayal, if a powerful enough group supports them, they can be deemed heroes fighting for a just cause (44). Whichever group ends up in the most powerful social position at the end of a conflict is able to determine which terminology is used for those in the weaker position. Seemingly, it is usually the victors who are able to determine the course of

history, and to a large degree, it is the victors who are able to disseminate legends. Legends and myths are created by the victors, and the texts reflect the image of betrayal that they wish to be seen.

Those deemed more important by a society are more able to reach and affect their audience, gaining a powerful support group and making sure that society deems them heroes and fighters for a noble cause who are unable to deviate from the hard choice they were forced to make, rather than traitors (Åkerström 44). However, there is another side to possessing this level of societal importance. Those who are more important are often believed to have a greater degree of agency than others in a society, which means that when caught engaging in betrayal and unable to manipulate the situation according to their own desires, those higher in the social hierarchy of a culture are more likely to be fully blamed for their acts of betrayal. Åkerström notes that those considered to have little or no agency, like children or, for a large period of human history, women, are less likely to be held responsible and blamed for their acts of betrayal

(12).

This makes it sound quite a bit as though all acts of betrayal are malicious acts. However,

Baxter et al. argue that betrayal is not in fact a moral failing but rather the consequence of living in a social situation where we consistently have competing demands on our time and loyalty.

Whenever two such demands come into conflict, either conflict internal to the relationship or external to it, a choice is required (657). Therefore, while betrayal is typically a highly thought out act, it is often merely a weighing of the options and a decision between two or more competing loyalties. They determine that “A betrayal or transgression is, by definition, a loyalty dilemma that has already been decided” (660).

The results of such loyalty dilemmas have the power to decide the fate of nations, as well as the fate of each individual household – to topple the highest powers or to decide the fate of a single child. It is this ability to change social order and to affect both the micro and macrocosmic sections of a society that makes betrayal such a powerful topic of discussion, and which will be the focus of this work.

Chapter Two: Betrayal in Euripides

2.1 The Language of Betrayal

The etymology of the word used by Euripides to describe betrayal acts is important in understanding betrayal in Euripides. The ancient Greek language has several words it can use to describe betrayal, some of which involve some form of the verb προδίδωµι – a word made by adding the prefix ‘πρό’ (meaning ‘before’, either spatially or temporally) (Greek-English

Lexicon) to the verb ‘δίδωµι’ (meaning ‘to give’) (Greek-English Lexicon).4 Thus the literal translation of the verb would be ‘to give before’. From this verb are obtained such compounds as

καταπροδίδωµι and συµπροδίδωµι, all of which can be defined as having something to do with betrayal acts of varying severities. Euripides, though, uses only προδίδωµι itself when describing betrayal acts.5

In Euripides’ works, the word προδίδωµι reflects its literal meaning of ‘to give before’.

Previously, I have established that betrayal is triadic. In this triadic situation, people are forced to choose between loyalties. The person not chosen in this competition of loyalties becomes the betrayed. Yet the betrayer is always giving loyalty to someone or something else. Unfortunately for the betrayed, this bestowal of loyalty to another involves the abandonment of loyalty to the betrayed. It is for this reason that King Admetus, in the play Alcestis, is able to use the word

προδίδωµι to describe the behaviour of his wife Alcestis, upon discovering that she has agreed to die in his place. She is acting with extreme loyalty, seemingly doing everything for her husband, so it seems intuitively odd for him to accuse her in such a way. Yet Admetus uses this term

4 Other words for betrayal do exist outside of προδίδωµι and its compounds. Some examples include ἐκµηνύω, παραβάλλω, προΐηµι, and πωλέω. Of the various words for betrayal containing some form of δίδωµι, παραδίδωµι is particularly notable, as it is a word used in the New Testament to describe the betrayal of Jesus (Ehrman 16). 5 He employs other words to discuss factors important to a betrayal act, such as πιστός (faithful) and ἀπολιµπάνω (to abandon), but only προδίδωµι to refer to the betrayal act itself. 15

repeatedly with his wife, on one occasion saying, “ἔπαιρε σαυτήν, ὦ τάλαινα, µὴ προδῷς”

(250).6 However, far from hampering a study of betrayal, this usage of the term, seemingly incongruent with the idea of betrayal, in fact reveals a vital fact about the ancient Greek definition of betrayal. The word προδίδωµι does not mean both ‘to betray’ and ‘to abandon’.

Rather, the two ideas are largely synonymous in Euripides’ works. In order to give loyalty to someone, the betrayer must take away loyalty from someone else – an abandonment. In the case of Alcestis, she is torn between two conflicting loyalties to the same man. By not dying in his place, she is betraying him, as she could have helped him. But by giving her loyalty to him, she is abandoning him physically – which he perceives as a betrayal as well. The idea of betrayal usually has a spatial, active component – a betrayer is mentioned as engaging in some form of action that constitutes the betrayal. When someone chooses to betray another, there is a motion that accompanies that decision, and this motion, in Euripides, is the betrayal. This makes sense, as giving is an action. Different forms of movement can be betrayals – movement away from a person towards said person’s rival, movement into the bed of a person not your spouse, even the movement of words from a human’s mouth – but there will always be this sense of movement accompanying the idea of betrayal. Betrayal is movement – the act of giving loyalty to someone or something and taking it away from someone else.

The plays of Euripides are replete with examples that support this idea. In Hippolytus,

Phaedra wants to kill herself because she has developed a fevered love for her young stepson.

Her nurse, attempting to persuade her not to die, declares, “εἰ θανῇ, προδοῦσα σοὺς/ παῖδας”

6 “Rouse yourself up, poor woman, do not abandon me” (Euripides Alcestis 250). 16

(305-06).7 Phaedra’s betrayal would be her giving of herself to the land of the dead, while taking her loyalty from her young children, who would then lack a defender against the claims of any future offspring Theseus might bear with other women. Similarly, in Iphigenia at Aulis,

Menelaus declares, “σκήπτρῳ νυν αὔχει, σὸν κασίγνητον προδούς./ ἐγὼ δ᾽ ἐπ᾽ ἄλλας εἶµι

µηχανάς τινας/ φίλους τ᾽ ἐπ᾽ ἄλλους” (412-14).8 He has just discovered that his brother has decided not to sacrifice his daughter in order to help Menelaus bring his wife Helen home from

Troy, despite Agamemnon’s earlier assurance that he would do so. Menelaus considers

Agamemnon’s act of going back on his word a betrayal. However, his language emphasizes movement as he describes Agamemnon’s betrayal act. Rather than staying with his brother,

Agamemnon is described as physically moving away from his brother towards an object he seems to value more – his sceptre. Menelaus’ outburst indicates that he believes his brother has given his own power and prestige (symbolized by his sceptre) his loyalty, while taking his loyalty away from Menelaus. In retaliation, Menelaus threatens a similar type of movement, away from his brother and towards other allies who will help him when Agamemnon will not.

Agamemnon’s act of betrayal is conceptualized as an act of movement, a physical abandonment of his brother in order to give his loyalty to other priorities in a different location.

Προδίδωµι can be given more specificity through pairing with a more explicit word describing motion. In this way, from the original meaning of ‘giving before’, which entails a certain sort of movement, προδίδωµι can simply have the meaning of ‘betraying movement’, and is given the force and direction of the movement through the surrounding context. This can be

7 “if you die you have betrayed your sons” (Euripides Hippolytus 305-06). 8 “Feel pride in your scepter, then, when you have betrayed your brother! I shall turn to other means and to other friends” (Euripides Iphigenia at Aulis 412-14). 17

seen, for example, in Ion, when Ion asks, of Apollo, “παρθένους βίᾳ γαµῶν/ προδίδωσι;” (437-

38).9 Ion wonders if Apollo betrays virgin women by force. In this case, the type of movement within προδίδωµι would not be explicit without the clarifying βίᾳ10, which explains the sort of movement the audience should read into προδίδωµι – forced betrayal, or rape.

In a similar manner, in Andromache, when Menelaus’ daughter Hermione fears her father will not assist her in destroying Andromache and ensuring Hermione’s husband is faithful to her, her nurse reassures her by saying, “πατὴρ δέ σ᾽ οὐχ ὧδ᾽ ὡς σὺ δειµαίνεις, τέκνον,/ προδοὺς

ἐάσει δωµάτων τῶνδ᾽ ἐκπεσεῖν” (874-75).11 The betrayal would be her father’s absence, and through this absence, the tacit approval given to Neoptolemus to discard Hermione and allow

Andromache to become the central female figure of the household. The movement of the potential betrayal in this case is Menelaus staying distant from his daughter, thus allowing her to be thrown from her husband’s household. These implications, which are part of the betrayal, are not clear in just the word προδίδωµι, so further description is necessary through “οὐχ […] ἐάσει

[…] ἐκπεσεῖν.”12 The nurse is certain Menelaus will give his loyalty to his daughter and support her against her husband.

In the previous examples, the grammatical object of προδίδωµι has been a human, or at least sentient, being. However, at times an inanimate physical object is used as the grammatical object of the betrayal.13 For example, in Phoenissae, Menoeceus declares, “τοὐµὸν δ᾽ οὐχὶ

9 “Does he betray virgins by forced rape?” (Euripides Ion 437-38). In this one instance I use Potter’s translation rather than Euripides rather than Kovacs’s, as it better enhances the aspect of the original text I am attempting to discuss. 10 “by force” 11 “Your father will not, as you fear, abandon you and allow you to be banished from this house” (Euripides Andromache 874-75). 12 “not […] allow you to be banished.” 13 See appendix A for all instances of προδίδωµι in Euripides. 18

συγγνώµην ἔχει, προδότην γενέσθαι πατρίδος ἥ µ᾽ ἐγείνατο” (995-96).14 The fatherland is conceptualized as the betrayed. Usually when προδίδωµι is used in such a way, it is actually an example of metonymy, with the object representing a group of people. In this way, the betrayal of the country is a betrayal of one’s countrymen, the betrayal of a bed is the betrayal of a spouse, and the betrayal of a religious object is actually the betrayal of either the gods or the group of people using the object for some purpose. However, the object is used rather than the betrayed human because this is the object through which the betrayal becomes physically realized, by the movement of the betrayer either from or towards this object. A clear illumination of this can be found in Medea, when Medea asks Jason, “νῦν ποῖ τράπωµαι; πότερα πρὸς πατρὸς δόµους,/ οὓς

σοὶ προδοῦσα καὶ πάτραν ἀφικόµην;” (503-04).15 There are two ideas of motion present in this passage – Medea’s initial motion away from her family home and her country, and her hypothetical return to this former place, which she betrayed. Yet she betrayed it through the initial abandonment, where she was willing to go as far as killing her family in order to make her escape. Places do not perceive abandonment, but people do. In this situation, what Medea is actually saying is that she betrayed the members of her family through her abandonment of them, symbolized by her leaving the family home and her former country.

Similarly, in Suppliants, the chorus enquires, “προδώσεις ταῦτα κἀκβαλεῖς χθονὸς/

γραῦς οὐ τυχούσας οὐδὲν ὧν αὐτὰς ἐχρῆν;” (265-66).16 That which the king is in danger of betraying symbolically stands in for the group of women. By betraying it, the king betrays the

14 “but there would be no pardon for me if I betrayed the country that begot me” (Euripides Phoenician Women 995-96). 15 “where am I now to turn? To my father's house, which like my country I betrayed for your sake when I came here?” (Euripides Medea 503-04) 16 “Will you abandon this tie and expel from the land old women who have received nothing of what is owed them?” (Euripides Suppliant Women 265-66). 19

women. Similarly, banishment simply describes the type of motion this betrayal would entail.

The banishment would be the betrayal, a removal of the suppliants, making them fend for themselves against those who pursue them.

This spatial, mobile aspect of betrayal is a valuable tool in understanding the significance of betrayal acts to an ancient Greek audience. Betrayal is often thought to create a mental and emotional distance between the betrayer and the betrayed. In Euripides, it seems a physical distance accompanies this internal distance.

2.2 Revelation of Character

One important function that the language of betrayal can perform is providing assistance in the determination of what sort of people characters in a work are intended to be. For example, in Iphigenia at Aulis, the language of betrayal helps to establish Agamemnon’s character as that of a selfish and weak man.

The play opens with the collected armies of Greece at an impasse at Aulis. They are waiting to sail for Troy, but the winds will not blow and they are trapped there. As the play proceeds, the ostensible reason for this wait is revealed. The goddess Artemis is angry and refuses to be appeased by anything less than the sacrifice of a human girl – Iphigenia, daughter of the leader of the combined forces. As the play opens, Agamemnon has already given his consent to this sacrifice and summoned his daughter to her death, but has reconsidered this acceptance and now seeks to prevent the girl from arriving (80-123). However, Agamemnon’s brother Menelaus, for whose sake the expedition has been arranged, finds out about his brother’s change of heart and approaches Agamemnon, full of rage (303-414). This is the first instance in which προδίδωµι is used in the play, as Menelaus cries out the previously quoted line “σκήπτρῳ

νυν αὔχει, σὸν κασίγνητον προδούς” (412).17 Tellingly, this is Menelaus’s final argument to his brother in his attempt to change Agamemnon’s mind on the matter of the sacrifice. Right after, a messenger arrives telling Agamemnon that his wife and child – Clytemnestra and Iphigenia – have arrived, and Agamemnon, after a long and tortured speech, accepts that his child is forfeit

(414-468). Although Agamemnon is persuaded by the messenger as much as by his brother, I believe that it is key that the accusation of betrayal is the final, and therefore likely supposed to be the strongest, argument Menelaus has with which to persuade his brother. This may show the power the mere idea of being thought a betrayer can have in shaping an individual’s actions. The scene also depicts an Agamemnon weak enough that he will not fight against the thought that he is a betrayer, as characters in other of Euripides’ plays, discussed later, do. Yet in deciding not to betray his brother’s interests rather than not to betray his child, Agamemnon is prioritizing his brother (and the Greek army in support of his brother), and the bond of loyalty that exists between these men, over his young daughter.

After the arrival of Clytemnestra and Iphigenia, who believe Iphigenia has been summoned to marry Achilles, Agamemnon attempts to behave normally, concealing his true intentions (590-741). However, Clytemnestra’s old servant, who is privy to Agamemnon’s true reasons for summoning his daughter, remains loyal to Clytemnestra and reveals Agamemnon’s real plan (858-95). Clytemnestra confronts her husband, who exclaims, “ἀπωλόµεσθα.

προδέδοται τὰ κρυπτά µου” (1140).18 Even after he has been caught, he does not acknowledge his betrayal of his family, rather lamenting the betrayal of his secret. The passage is notable as it is one of very few instances in all of Euripides’ plays where a thing rather than a sentient being is

17 “Feel pride in your scepter, then, when you have betrayed your brother!” (Euripides Iphigenia at Aulis 412). 18 “I am lost! My secret has been betrayed!” (Euripides Iphigenia at Aulis 1140). 21

cast as the grammatical subject of a betrayal act. This further shows Agamemnon’s weak indecisiveness. He uses the passive form of the verb and speaks of the betrayal of his secret rather than of himself in order to avoid any focus on himself, as he is unable to accept responsibility for the actions for which he is culpable. Rather than stating that he himself has betrayed, or been betrayed, now that he has been caught, Agamemnon speaks of his secret being betrayed, removing himself entirely from the situation. Yet that his action was viewed as a betrayal is evident from Iphigenia’s reaction upon discovering her father means to kill her. She is heartbroken, and tells her mother, “ὁ δὲ τεκών µε τὰν τάλαιναν,/ ὦ µᾶτερ ὦ µᾶτερ,/ οἴχεται

προδοὺς ἔρηµον” (1312-14).19

A negative view of Agamemnon’s character in this play is not uncommon. Siegal describes Euripides’ Agamemnon as a man ruled by an almost paranoid, hysterical fear of

Odysseus and the Greek army, which causes him to lie to himself about the necessity of sacrificing his daughter, in an attempt to save himself (Agamemnon 264-45), while McDonald believes that Agamemnon treats his daughter as a “bourgeois commodity” and sells her for his own benefit (71). Schenker believes that Agamemnon is a “man beset by uncertainties”, whose inconsistent and ever changing perspectives on the world around him are merely one example of the character inconsistencies that riddle the play – inconsistencies deliberately used by Euripides to reflect the uncertain and ever changing nature of the real world (649). Burgess chooses to avoid the question of inconsistency, looking instead at Agamemnon through the idea of conviction – as a man for whom the sacrifice of his daughter would be the most advantageous course, as this sacrifice would allow him to sail to Troy and gain honor there. She feels that this

19 “The father who begot me, O mother, O mother, has gone off and abandoned me to misery!” (305). 22

causes Agamemnon to come to believe in the validity and honor of this option, despite its objective lack of merit (51).20 The use of προδίδωµι agrees with the assessment of Agamemnon’s character as self-serving, emphasizing Agamemnon’s unwillingness to take responsibility for his choices and his distancing of himself from his acts of betrayal.

2.3 Public and Private Influences on a Definition of Betrayal

Public opinion plays an extremely important role in interpreting a culture’s values to determine what qualifies as an act of betrayal. The last section of Iphigenia at Aulis provides a valuable key to understanding this aspect of betrayal as it exists in Euripides, and this key lies in the importance of the army at the climax of the play (1115-509). This climax, in which

Iphigenia, who was previously devastated by the betrayal of her father and clung to life as fiercely as she could, decides to willingly be sacrificed, has been of great confusion to critics going all the way back to Aristotle. He claims inconsistency in characters is one of the most important pitfalls to avoid in tragedy, and Iphigenia is his prime example of a character who does not manage to avoid this blunder (Poetics 1454a).

Sorum solves this problem by claiming that the mythic tradition is in constant conflict with personal choice in Iphigenia at Aulis, and that Iphigenia’s final choice is a reflection of the mythic tradition’s power to make personal choices meaningless (540), while Burgess thinks that

Iphigenia adopts the lies her father has told her about the importance of her sacrifice in order to make the sacrifice, which is inevitable, bearable (55). McDonald suggests that Iphigenia eventually agrees with her father’s stated perspective of her sacrifice due to her love for him and

20 Not all scholars view Agamemnon’s character quite so negatively. Goodkin views Agamemnon as a victim of the drama of which he is a part (85). Sorum sees characters in Euripides as constantly fighting against their mythic destinies, and inevitably failing. She views Agamemnon’s final choice to kill his daughter, and his indecision before this, as reflective of this dilemma (538-39). Notably, not even these studies more favorable to Agamemnon see his actions as positive, but focus instead on larger structural issues in the text. 23

her dutiful obedience, and that thus her death is noble, if not for the reasons Agamemnon provides (76). However, I believe Siegal notices an important aspect in Iphigenia’s change of mind when he observes that the army appears just before Iphigenia agrees to the sacrifice (Self-

Delusion 311). Throughout the play, the army has been mentioned with some dread.

Agamemnon fears the will of the army, saying that they are forcing him to sacrifice Iphigenia, and if he refuses they would kill her anyway and then destroy the rest of his family (Iphigenia at

Aulis 528-535). Siegal believes that this fear is justified, and that the play suggests that no matter what Agamemnon does, Iphigenia will be dragged away by the army and sacrificed (Self-

Delusion 310). Despite Agamemnon’s power, the collective is more powerful still. And it is important to the theme of betrayal that the crowd supports the journey to Troy above all else. It is what they have gathered for and they intend to perform the journey no matter what. Ultimately, individual desires are subsumed by the will of the crowd, leading to Iphigenia accepting her role as a sacrifice and forgiving her father’s betrayal, preventing any blame from falling on him.

Siegal thinks Iphigenia believes that this is the only option where she can die with at least a little dignity, rather than ripped from her family by the army (Self-Delusion 311). The power of the group in establishing what counts as a betrayal act and what does not, based on the values of the group, is a common feature in betrayal situations discussed in the next section.

Previously I mentioned that there are three entities necessary to an act of betrayal – a betrayer, a betrayed, and an object of conflict. These three entities are all required in a betrayal act, and all that is required for a betrayal act. However, betrayal acts occur frequently within society, and the other members of the society who are not directly involved in a betrayal act can still be affected by such a betrayal. While the group is not involved in the betrayal act, it is involved in the betrayal situation, as the group often establishes the punishments for betrayal acts

(for example, through the society’s judicial system). Group approval is vital if a betrayer wishes to be deemed innocent of betrayal and the lack of this approval means a person can be charged with whatever legal penalties the culture has for betrayers (Åkerström 52-54). This is of particular importance in the plays of Euripides due to the importance of the group in the society of the time. As demonstrated in Iphigenia at Aulis, the group has the power to either provide validation for a betrayed, thus allowing the betrayed to seek retribution, or to decide that no betrayal took place, and thus to punish the betrayed if he or she attempts to correct a private wrong.

Therefore, according to this logic, Iphigenia has only two real choices. She can continue, through the support of her champion, Achilles (1353-59), with her betrayal claim, despite the lack of support it is given by the group around her (1338-1353), knowing that her claim will never be accepted and she will never be avenged, or she can accept what the group seems to be telling her – that her father’s betrayal was no betrayal at all (1255-1275).

When the public opinion on a betrayal act is in disagreement with an individual’s opinion on the act, individuals possess the choice of conforming to society’s definition of betrayal and giving up a betrayal claim or of continuing with the betrayal claim and potentially coming into conflict with the group.

2.4 The Audience of Betrayal

Due to the influence of the group in determining what counts as a betrayal act, avoiding an accusation of betrayal is important in maintaining reputation. This can help explain how accusations of betrayal can be used to influence a person’s behaviour, as in the case of Menelaus persuading his brother to kill Iphigenia through accusations that Agamemnon is a betrayer.

The Orestes in particular demonstrates this particular function of betrayal acts. Orestes begins the play in madness, while his sister Electra laments his condition (1-45). Due to his murder of his mother, the Furies are haunting him (or he believes them to be). If that were not enough, the assembly is about to decide on the siblings’ punishment, and it seems likely that banishment or death will be their fate (46-51). The only hope remaining for the two is that

Menelaus, who is newly arrived in the city, will side with them and take their part before the assembly (52-70). However, this hope does not come to fruition. When Menelaus arrives, he makes it very clear that he does not intend to help. Orestes rails against Menelaus, claiming he is a betrayer, as he is unwilling to assist his kin, the children of his own brother. He cries, “οἴµοι,

προδέδοµαι, κοὐκέτ᾽ εἰσὶν ἐλπίδες,/ ὅποι τραπόµενος θάνατον Ἀργείων φύγω:/ οὗτος γὰρ ἦν µοι

καταφυγὴ σωτηρίας” (722-24).21 Menelaus’ major flaw is the fact that he has betrayed Orestes, abandoning his nephew to his death. As Orestes feels more and more trapped, his language grows ever more vengeful about this perceived betrayal. He declares:

ἐγὼ δὲ πάντως ἐκπνέων ψυχὴν ἐµὴν

δράσας τι χρῄζω τοὺς ἐµοὺς ἐχθροὺς θανεῖν,

ἵν᾽ ἀνταναλώσω µὲν οἵ µε προύδοσαν,

στένωσι δ᾽ οἵπερ κἄµ᾽ ἔθηκαν ἄθλιον (1163-66).22

Unlike his earlier behaviour, where he levels accusations at Menelaus but does nothing else, now

Orestes chooses to try and physically harm those whom he feels betrayed him. Boulter declares that throughout the play, Orestes is slowly changed from prey to predator, and that Orestes’

21 “Oh, I have been abandoned! I have no hope, no place I can turn to escape an Argive death! He was my life- saving refuge!” (Euripides Orestes 722-24). 22 “Now since I am in any case going to breathe out my life, I want to do something to my enemies before I die so that I can repay with destruction those who have betrayed me and so that those who have made me miserable may smart for it” (1163-66). 26

“obsession with revenge [has] brought about complete moral collapse” (105-06). Orestes has been condemned to death already, and has nothing left to lose if he tries to destroy Menelaus for his perceived betrayal.

Seemingly to contrast themselves to those they feel have betrayed them, Orestes and

Electra, along with Orestes’ friend Pylades, use dramatic claims of their own undying loyalties.

Orestes reaffirms his loyalty to his dead father by declaring aloud that it was for his sake that

Orestes killed his mother. Electra, who assisted in the murder of Clytemnestra, chimes in, saying,

“οὐδ᾽ ἐγὼ προύδωκά σε” (1239).23 Pylades offers similar confirmation of his loyalties when

Orestes tells him he should save himself rather than dying with the siblings. Pylades declares,

“µήθ᾽ αἷµά µου/ δέξαιτο κάρπιµον πέδον,/ µὴ λαµπρὸς αἰθήρ, εἴ σ᾽ ἐγὼ προδούς ποτε/

ἐλευθερώσας τοὐµὸν ἀπολίποιµι σέ” (1086-88).24 These loyalty claims primarily occur after

Orestes and Electra have begun to lose hope and have become desperate. This supports an idea put forward by Hartigan that Orestes shows the bonds of friendship being perverted by the desperate situation in which the friends find themselves (“Euripidean Madness” 130). Parry argues that the friends “are driven to utter dependence” on each other and this is their downfall, as this divorces friendship from greater human concerns and makes it incapable of facilitating redemption (340). Desperation drives them to cling closely to one another, as they believe everyone else they know has betrayed them.

Such accusations and loyalty claims provide the most obvious betrayal text in the play.

However, during the section where Orestes first requests Menelaus’ help, there is a very

23 “I did not abandon you either” (1239). 24 “May the fruitful earth not receive my blood, nor the bright upper air my spirit if I ever betray you and free myself by abandoning you!” (1086-88). 27

interesting interplay between the characters that reveals quite a bit about betrayal in Euripides. In

Orestes’ conversation with Menelaus, there seem at first to be two conflicting opinions of betrayal (although the word προδίδωµι is not used in their conversation). The two engage in the following conversation:

Μενέλαος

οὐ δεινὰ πάσχειν δεινὰ τοὺς εἰργασµένους.

Ὀρέστης

ἀλλ᾽ ἔστιν ἡµῖν ἀναφορὰ τῆς συµφορᾶς.

Μενέλαος

µὴ θάνατον εἴπῃς: τοῦτο µὲν γὰρ οὐ σοφόν.

Ὀρέστης

Φοῖβος, κελεύσας µητρὸς ἐκπρᾶξαι φόνον.

Μενέλαος

ἀµαθέστερός γ᾽ ὢν τοῦ καλοῦ καὶ τῆς δίκης.

Ὀρέστης

δουλεύοµεν θεοῖς, ὅ τι ποτ᾽ εἰσὶν οἱ θεοί.

Μενέλαος

κᾆτ᾽ οὐκ ἀµύνει Λοξίας τοῖς σοῖς κακοῖς;

Ὀρέστης

µέλλει: τὸ θεῖον δ᾽ ἐστὶ τοιοῦτον φύσει.

Μενέλαος

πόσον χρόνον δὲ µητρὸς οἴχονται πνοαί;

Ὀρέστης

ἕκτον τόδ᾽ ἦµαρ: ἔτι πυρὰ θερµὴ τάφου.

Μενέλαος

ὡς ταχὺ µετῆλθόν σ᾽ αἷµα µητέρος θεαί.

Ὀρέστης

οὐ σοφός, ἀληθὴς δ᾽ ἐς φίλους ἔφυν φίλος.

Μενέλαος

πατρὸς δὲ δή τι σ᾽ ὠφελεῖ τιµωρία;

Ὀρέστης

οὔπω: τὸ µέλλον δ᾽ ἴσον ἀπραξίᾳ λέγω.

Μενέλαος

τὰ πρὸς πόλιν δὲ πῶς ἔχεις δράσας τάδε;

Ὀρέστης

µισούµεθ᾽ οὕτως ὥστε µὴ προσεννέπειν.

Μενέλαος

οὐδ᾽ ἥγνισαι σὸν αἷµα κατὰ νόµον χεροῖν;

Ὀρέστης

ἐκκλῄοµαι γὰρ δωµάτων ὅποι µόλω.

Μενέλαος

τίνες πολιτῶν ἐξαµιλλῶνταί σε γῆς;

Ὀρέστης

Οἴαξ, τὸ Τροίας µῖσος ἀναφέρων πατρί.

Μενέλαος

συνῆκα: Παλαµήδους σε τιµωρεῖ φόνου.

Ὀρέστης

οὗ γ᾽ οὐ µετῆν µοι: διὰ τριῶν δ᾽ ἀπόλλυµαι.

Μενέλαος

τίς δ᾽ ἄλλος; ἦ που τῶν ἀπ᾽ Αἰγίσθου φίλων;

Ὀρέστης

οὗτοί µ᾽ ὑβρίζουσ᾽, ὧν πόλις τὰ νῦν κλύει.

Μενέλαος

Ἀγαµέµνονος δὲ σκῆπτρ᾽ ἐᾷ σ᾽ ἔχειν πόλις;

Ὀρέστης

πῶς, οἵτινες ζῆν οὐκ ἐῶσ᾽ ἡµᾶς ἔτι;

Μενέλαος

τί δρῶντες ὅ τι καὶ σαφὲς ἔχεις εἰπεῖν ἐµοί;

Ὀρέστης

ψῆφος καθ᾽ ἡµῶν οἴσεται τῇδ᾽ ἡµέρᾳ.

Μενέλαος

φεύγειν πόλιν τήνδ᾽; ἢ θανεῖν ἢ µὴ θανεῖν;

Ὀρέστης

θανεῖν ὑπ᾽ ἀστῶν λευσίµῳ πετρώµατι.

Μενέλαος

κᾆτ᾽ οὐχὶ φεύγεις γῆς ὑπερβαλὼν ὅρους;

Ὀρέστης

κύκλῳ γὰρ εἱλισσόµεθα παγχάλκοις ὅπλοις.

Μενέλαος

ἰδίᾳ πρὸς ἐχθρῶν ἢ πρὸς Ἀργείας χερός;

Ὀρέστης

πάντων πρὸς ἀστῶν, ὡς θάνω: βραχὺς λόγος.

Μενέλαος

ὦ µέλεος, ἥκεις συµφορᾶς ἐς τοὔσχατον.

Ὀρέστης

ἐς σὲ ἐλπὶς ἡµὴ καταφυγὰς ἔχει κακῶν.

ἀλλ᾽ ἀθλίως πράσσουσιν εὐτυχὴς µολὼν

µετάδος φίλοισι σοῖσι σῆς εὐπραξίας,

καὶ µὴ µόνος τὸ χρηστὸν ἀπολαβὼν ἔχε,

ἀλλ᾽ ἀντιλάζου καὶ πόνων ἐν τῷ µέρει,

χάριτας πατρῴας ἐκτίνων ἐς οὕς σε δεῖ.

ὄνοµα γάρ, ἔργον δ᾽ οὐκ ἔχουσιν οἱ φίλοι

οἱ µὴ 'πὶ ταῖσι συµφοραῖς ὄντες φίλοι (413-455).25

25 Orestes No one who is unfaithful to his friends is truly wise. Menelaus But really, has your avenging of your father helped you at all? Orestes Not yet: in my eyes delay is the same thing as inaction. Menelaus But the city, how do you stand with it since committing this deed? Orestes 31

Menelaus is of the opinion that it is the citizens who establish what is and is not an act of betrayal. He states that the god is wise in avoiding blame for Orestes’ matricide (423). , He repeatedly emphasizes that a person should do things that advance his own standing in the eyes of the people, asking how Orestes is faring with the city (427), what the city is planning on doing to Orestes (439), and whether it is the city’s army that is preventing Orestes from escaping Argos

I am so detested that no one speaks to me. Menelaus But have you not been cleansed of the blood on your hands in the customary way? Orestes No: wherever I go they shut me from their houses. Menelaus But which of the citizens are behind this? Orestes It’s Oeax: he blames my father for the hateful occurrences at Troy. Menelaus I catch your drift: he is punishing you for the murder of Palamedes. Orestes Which I had nothing to do with. Three things are causing my death. Menelaus Who else attacks you? Perhaps some of Aegisthus’ party? Orestes Yes, they treat me outrageously. And the city now does their bidding. Menelaus Does the city allow you to hold Agamemnon’s scepter? Orestes Scepter? They will not allow me even to live! Menelaus But what are they doing? Can you tell me anything definite? Orestes A vote will be taken against me today. [Menelaus Banishment from the city? To be put to death or spared? Orestes To be put to death by stoning at the hands of the citizens.] Menelaus Then why aren’t you fleeing across the border? Orestes I am surrounded by panoplies of bronze. Menelaus By the private forces of your enemies or an army of Argos? Orestes In a word: by all the citizens, to bring about my death. Menelaus Poor man, you have reached the limit of misfortune (413-55). 32

(445). Stature is everything for Menelaus. This is why the majority of Menelaus’ lines are enquiring not about Orestes himself, but about the reaction of the group. Menelaus determines that Orestes is most unfortunate when he discovers that Orestes is penned in not merely by his enemies’ armies, but by all the citizens (445-47), despite the fact that the armies of Orestes’ enemies would likely be just as effective at keeping him from escape. If the city – the group – judges Orestes as guilty of betraying his mother, Menelaus believes that to be the ultimate sign

Orestes truly is guilty.

This seems to conflict with the values held by Orestes – of loyalty to the gods and his family above the collective will of the people. He cries, “οὐ σοφός, ἀληθὴς δ᾽ ἐς φίλους ἔφυν

φίλος” (424).26 The implication is that it is better to follow a personal judgement of loyalty and not betray friends and family than to obey a public opinion of what loyalty should be.

However, under the words Orestes is saying lurks the same need for the people to judge his actions towards his mother not a betrayal act, but rather a loyal act performed for his murdered father – else he would not be seeking allies for his upcoming trial so desperately. The group – that spectator of betrayal acts and judge in betrayal situations – is able to decide the outcome for Orestes just as much here as they did in Iphigenia at Aulis. The difference in this case is that this audience has less of a stake in the matter. Whereas in Iphigenia at Aulis the army desired to get to Troy, and judging Agamemnon not a betrayer facilitated that, in this case the majority of the citizens do not have any personal motivations either to judge Orestes a betrayer or free him. Individual members of the group, such as Oeax and Aegisthus’ friends may, but overall the group may be ready to be persuaded in either direction. Certainly Orestes’ enemies

26 “No one who is unfaithful to his friends is truly wise” (424). 33

have persuaded the crowd, but Orestes believes Menelaus may be able to persuade it in the opposite direction, requesting that Menelaus save him from his fate (380-84).

In a case like this, the definition of betrayal becomes a matter of negotiation. The definition can be altered by the will of the crowd. This is indicated in Medea, where Jason is told by the chorus “εὖ µὲν τούσδ᾽ ἐκόσµησας λόγους:/ ὅµως δ᾽ ἔµοιγε, κεἰ παρὰ γνώµην ἐρῶ,/ δοκεῖς

προδοὺς σὴν ἄλοχον οὐ δίκαια δρᾶν” (576-78).27 Despite how carefully he presents his arguments, the chorus, one representation of the opinion of the group, still finds him guilty of betrayal. It is usually the external group that will make the final judgement as to whether an act is a betrayal, even if individuals have their own beliefs about the matter. Due to this element, an accusation of betrayal can be weaponized – used to shame a person publically. It is a “ὄνειδος”28 to be accused of betrayal.

The weaponized use of betrayal enters into many of Euripides’ plays. It is the motivation behind Menelaus’ use of προδίδωµι in his previously mentioned argument against his brother.

By accusing Agamemnon of being a betrayer, he is able to influence his brother’s behaviour.

Similarly, Orestes earlier mentioned accusations of Menelaus are designed to change Menelaus’ behaviour and make him help his nephew.

The appearance of Apollo at the end of Orestes adds to this notion of betrayal as a tool used in power negotiations. Apollo, as a god, is more powerful than mortals. Therefore, he is the only one, after the group has decided to punish Orestes, who can overturn the decision of the

27 “Jason, you have marshalled your arguments very skilfully, but I think, even though it may be imprudent to say so, that in abandoning your wife you are not doing right” (Euripides Medea 576-78). 28 “reproach” This is what the chorus leader in Euripides’ Heracleidae calls the accusation of betrayal. “ὦ πρέσβυ, µή νυν τῶνδ᾽ ἐπαιτιῶ πόλιν:/ τάχ᾽ ἂν γὰρ ἡµῖν ψευδὲς ἀλλ᾽ ὅµως κακὸν/ γένοιτ᾽ ὄνειδος ὡς ξένους προυδώκαµεν (461-63). (“Old sir, do not lay this charge against the city. For though it may be false, it is still a painful reproach, that we have betrayed strangers” (Euripides Heracleidae 461-63). 34

collective. Through his assertion that Orestes was acting on his instructions, he is able to free

Orestes from his death sentence (1625-65). This scene has been examined by numerous critics with vastly different ideas as to the importance of the section. Smith believes that the scene shows Euripides’ unwillingness to give the gods motives that are understandable by mortals

(307). The god made Orestes kill his mother, a clear violation of codes of behaviour thought to come from the gods, but it is never clear why. Hartigan agrees with this interpretation of

Euripidean gods (“Euripidean Madness” 131-32). Gibert feels as though the “image of a sacrificing god” is a symbol of the moral confusion that fills the play (187), while

Papadimitropoulus sees Apollo’s lack of interference until the end as a divine test of Orestes’ willingness to do anything to survive and maintain his power (506). In all of these interpretations, one factor is not disputed; the gods are proven to be more powerful than the entire collective. While the definition of betrayal among mortals is the decision of the collective that observes the potential betrayal act, the gods need no such audience to decide on meaning for them. They are powerful enough to act independently of such constraints.

To understand completely the context behind the weaponization of words such as

προδίδωµι, it is useful to look at the idea that ancient Greeks lived in an honour culture. In an honour culture, honour was not an inherent trait, but was a personal attribute that was externally bestowed, and could be given or taken away. In a disagreement between two individuals, the group would come down on one side or the other and the person in whose favour the group decided would gain honour, at the expense of the other individual, who lost honour in the encounter (Cairns 26, Del Ama 442, Crook 609-10)). Betrayal can be used as a tool in an honour conflict. The accusation that a person has betrayed opens the accused up to judgement from the group – judgement in which the accused individual can lose honour, improving the position of

the accuser. In order to strengthen the claim that a person has been betrayed, that person needs to adequately perform the role of the betrayed, so that the audience is likely to believe the story.

Objective truth, or even a personal belief that a betrayal has occurred, does not necessarily enter into the matter.

2.5 Betrayal as Performance

If the judgement of an audience often affects the identification of what a betrayal is, then reactions to betrayal can perhaps best be described as performative – as those betrayed are attempting to sway public opinion. Mulligan explains that such performances are especially important in oral cultures for facilitating changes in the social order (89). This is perfectly exemplified by Electra’s performance in the role of betrayed at the beginning of Electra. As the play opens, Electra, the young daughter of Agamemnon, and her husband (a farmer) explain her fate. Her mother has forsaken her and married her off to a commoner. Her father was murdered and his killers dwell in his hall and rule in his stead, while his rightful children have been cast out – Orestes into exile to avoid being killed, Electra herself into a disgraceful marriage (Electra

1-81). Electra laments her fate, describing the wretched state she is in, and refusing to go dancing at the festival of Hera (112-212).

Many scholars have questioned Electra’s character in this portion of the text, with some calling Electra’s isolation from society self-imposed and self-indulgent (Kovacs “Castor” 307,

O’Brien “Orestes” 29). Gallagher believes that Electra is extremely strong in oratory, “out of touch with reality, but, at the same time, as possessing a skill by which she can impose her erroneous perceptions upon others” (405). In Gallagher’s perspective, Electra’s isolation is a tool used to twist people to accept her “erroneous perceptions.” Arnott suggests, with a slightly less negative perspective of Electra’s character, that Electra is simply naïve, and that her isolation is a

reflection of the inaccurate way she sees the world (182). In this sort of view, Electra’s stubborn belief in a heroic world is in marked contrast to the rest of the play, which Morwood calls a deliberate “assault on the idealistic beauty of the heroic age” (368).

However, Zeitlin disagrees with this perspective, noting that in the time period in which the play was written, Electra’s isolation would be taken as an “outward token of her inner isolation” (Zeitlin 648), with her refusal to participate in civic festivals a symbol of her feelings of otherness from the community. Rosivach adds to this idea by pointing out that when Electra refuses to dance in the festival of Hera, she is refusing to dance in a ceremony where, as the king’s daughter, she should be leading the dancers. Her new status is not worthy of the rank that is her birthright, even if she can still get by (191-92). Lloyd goes even further by noting that, whether Electra’s behaviour makes sense to modern audiences or not, it was culturally expected.

He explains that such lamentation was essential to “demonstrate that a crime was actually taking place” (3) and that without such a public display of victimhood, offences were unlikely to be punished in a court of law. This supports a viewpoint that betrayal could be performative.

Although Electra never uses the word προδίδωµι, the idea she communicates is the same as in previously mentioned betrayal acts – a sense of abandonment. Electra declares, “µήτηρ ἐµή,

ἐξέβαλέ µ᾽ οἴκων” (60-61).29 She has been betrayed and abandoned by her mother, and she acts the part. This is essential in order to try and sway public opinion in her direction, so that she can punish her betrayer and not be penalized for it. While this does not work out exactly as Electra may hope, it is an understandable motivation.

29 “My mother […] has cast me out of my house” (Euripides Electra 60-61). 37

2.6 Gender and Betrayal

Throughout the play, Electra’s primary focus is on her mother. Despite Aegisthus being the one to actually kill Agamemnon, Clytemnestra was the one with the personal connection to

Electra, and thus the person on whom she is fixated. Aegisthus’ actions are ones that Electra hates, but they do not evoke as powerful a response as those of her mother – the person to whom

Electra is societally expected to be closer. Electra cries, “οὐ µίτραισι γυνή σε/ δέξατ᾽ οὐδ᾽ ἐπὶ

στεφάνοις” (Electra 163-64).30 Instead, Clytemnestra greeted her husband with swords. Electra mentions Aegisthus briefly at this point, but the main focus is on the atrocity Clytemnestra has wrought. Earlier in the play, Electra declares of her mother, “τεκοῦσα δ᾽ ἄλλους παῖδας Αἰγίσθῳ

πάρα/ πάρεργ᾽ Ὀρέστην κἀµὲ ποιεῖται δόµων (62-63).31 Again, this is something that both

Aegisthus and Clytemnestra have done, but the majority of the blame is placed on Clytemnestra.

In contrast, Clytemnestra is a woman whose husband sacrificed her daughter and then brought home another woman whom he preferred to his wife, threatening her place in the household (1011-50). Agamemnon betrayed her twice over. While Iphigenia’s death was a betrayal of the entire family, it is the absence of Agamemnon that Electra has come to believe has caused all of her problems, and thus she stays loyal to him because he was in conflict with her mother, whom Electra despises for her betrayal.

Yet in valuing her father above her mother, Electra repeats the actions of her mother, leading to the death of a relative. Zeitlin talks about the similarity between mother and daughter, arguing that “Electra’s loathing of her mother is based partially on the fact that she is her mother’s daughter” (666). The same flaws tear both characters apart. Despite her hatred of her

30 “It was not with a crown that your wife greeted you or with the garlands of victory” (Euripides Electra 163-64). 31 “Begetting other children by Aegisthus, she treats Orestes and me as the house’s illegitimate offspring” (62-63). 38

mother, Electra does not immediately act against her mother herself. She acts out her betrayal, keeping it in the public imagination until her brother Orestes returns from exile, and then prompts him into action. This leads to Euripides’ version of the recognition scene, where Electra finally recognizes Orestes, due to a distinctive scar on his face (Electra 503-50). Many commentators believe that this recognition scene is a parody of other versions of the recognition scene found in the works of earlier tragedians (for example Davies 392). Goff speculates that the scar used to recognize Orestes is supposed to call to mind the scar of Odysseus, drawing a comparison between Orestes and Odysseus that is extremely unfavourable to Orestes, due to

Orestes’ unheroic portrayal (262). However, even those with such a negative assessment of

Orestes acknowledge that Electra does not act until Orestes arrives. Winnington-Ingram discusses a likely reason for this gendered approach to action when he notes that, in the god’s speech at the end of the Electra, Electra is “regarded only as something to be given to Pylades”

(52).

This gendered approach to action affects betrayal situations, and is reflected in the language used to describe betrayal in Euripides’ works. Mossman looks at the gendered use of language in drama, explaining that women in tragedy quite often use language differently than men, talking about different subjects and using different arguments to discuss these subjects

(376). Chong-Gossard explores one example of women’s language in the form of song, explaining that song gives women an odd sort of power when they have none, allowing them some control by resisting how some people think they should behave, through self-expression in song (209). Such a gendered use of language is also present in the use of the word προδίδωµι in

Euripides’ plays – specifically in the differing occasions upon which this word is used by each gender.

Men tend to use the idea that someone is a betrayer to discredit someone with whom they are in disagreement. Such usage exists, for example, in Orestes, where Orestes shouts, “φεύγεις

ἀποστραφείς µε, τὰ δ᾽ Ἀγαµέµνονος/ φροῦδ᾽; ἄφιλος ἦσθ᾽ ἄρ᾽, ὦ πάτερ, πράσσων κακῶς./ οἴµοι,

προδέδοµαι” (720-22)32 after Menelaus as Menelaus walks away from him. Betrayal is only one of the negative charges levelled against Menelaus, used to strengthen Orestes’ claims. If they are not using betrayal in this way, men tend to deplore distant individuals who have betrayed them, as when Orestes continues to curse Menelaus throughout the rest of the Orestes (see, for example, 1165), or to use a desire not to be viewed as a betrayer as a prime reason for seeing their friends through hard times, as when Pylades tells Orestes that he will never betray his sister in Iphigenia in Tauris (717).

In contrast, women usually use the word προδίδωµι as a form of entreaty or self- reproach. Examples of this are numerous (Helen 54, Andromache 389). Women, like men, use a desire not to be betrayers to spur them to perform noble actions. For example, in Alcestis,

Alcestis is determined to sacrifice herself to save her husband, as if someone agrees to die in his place, he will live. His parents have already refused to die in his place, and Alcestis sets their betrayal in opposition to her own loyalty, which will bring her a noble death (290-92). On occasions when προδίδωµι is used as a form of reproach towards someone else, the majority of the time females target other females with their accusations, often when the women they are accusing are not present. In general, the only time when they direct this term at men is when the men are not actually present, typically when the women are in the presence of male members of their family who strongly agree with what they are saying (for example, Orestes 1057). The one

32 “are you turning away from me and running? Have Agamemnon’s favors to you vanished? So you really are friendless, father, in your misfortune! Oh, I have been abandoned!” (Euripides Orestes 720-22). 40

exception to this is Medea, with her frequent open accusations that Jason has betrayed her. Yet given that this is the only example of a woman behaving in such a manner, it can safely be inferred that this is a deliberate use of προδίδωµι to elucidate Medea’s character more clearly as unusual (as previously discussed), rather than typical behaviour (for example, Medea 489, 778).

Mossman notes that such a difference in language usage in mixed groups as opposed to single sex groups is typical of women’s speech, with women speaking much more freely in front of other women (378).

In Electra, which involves many confrontations between women, there is only one usage of προδίδωµι, despite all of the instances of betrayal that occur in the play. Clytemnestra employs the noun προδότις to describe her sister Helen. Speaking of Helen, Menelaus, and

Agamemnon, she tells Electra, “νῦν δ᾽ οὕνεχ᾽ Ἑλένη µάργος ἦν ὅ τ᾽ αὖ λαβὼν/ ἄλοχον κολάζειν

προδότιν οὐκ ἠπίστατο,/ τούτων ἕκατι παῖδ᾽ ἐµὴν διώλεσεν” (1027-29).33 Despite the fact that her husband was the one to kill her child, when it comes to direct accusations, she blames Helen for leading her husband to this action, as she was a betrayer.

As Mossman makes clear, it is important to keep in mind that these plays are written by a man, for men, and thus it is hard to infer anything about actual female behaviour from the language use within. However, it can be used to obtain information about male perceptions of women (375). Although there are other instances, both in this play and in others about women, where a woman clearly suffers a betrayal, the use of language is important because words are powerful in influencing human behaviour, and in all but the most exceptional cases women do

33 “But as it is, he killed her only because Helen was a whore and the man who married her did not know how to chastise the wife who betrayed him” (Euripides Electra 1027-29). 41

not use words directly identifying their betrayals, even as they struggle with the emotional ramifications of a betrayal act.

2.7 The Effect of the Foreign on Betrayal

While the previously discussed aspects of Euripidean betrayal are important, they are all focused primarily on betrayal acts occurring among Greeks. In contrast, Iphigenia in Tauris takes the discussion outside of Greek territories.

As the play opens, Iphigenia, miraculously saved by Artemis from being sacrificed at

Aulis, discusses her situation (1-66). Having been placed by the goddess in the land of the

Taurians, it is now Iphigenia’s duty to assist in the sacrifice to Artemis of unsuspecting Greek travelers to the area (34-41). In Iphigenia’s speech, it becomes obvious that Iphigenia has been welcomed by the Taurians. She has been given a retinue of Greek women by Thoas, king of the

Taurians, and is trusted to perform her sacrificial duties as a priestess of Artemis. And, at the beginning of the play, Iphigenia is learning to accept her fate. She has had what she believes to be a prophetic dream detailing her brother’s death. Thus she determines that she will have no more sympathy for those she sacrifices, declaring, “νῦν δ᾽ ἐξ ὀνείρων οἷσιν ἠγριώµεθα,/ δοκοῦσ᾽

Ὀρέστην µηκέθ᾽ ἥλιον βλέπειν,/ δύσνουν µε λήψεσθ᾽, οἵτινές ποθ᾽ ἥκετε” (348-50).34 This changes when her brother Orestes lands on the Taurian shore. At first, he does not know who she is – in fact, all of the Greeks believe that she died when she was sacrificed – and she does not recognize the brother whom she last saw as a baby (229-35). However, as soon as they determine, through a series of fortunate occurrences, that they are brother and sister, Iphigenia instantly betrays the trust of the people she now lives amongst to save her brother (467-1019).

34 “But now because of the dreams that have made me savage [thinking that Orestes no longer looks upon the sun], you who have arrived here will find me unkind” (Euripides Iphigenia among the Taurians 348-50). 42

Orestes declares that he will do his best to return himself and his sister to their homeland, to which Iphigenia responds, “πῶς οὖν γένοιτ᾽ ἂν ὥστε µήθ᾽ ἡµᾶς θανεῖν,/ λαβεῖν θ᾽ ἃ

βουλόµεσθα; τῇδε γὰρ νοσεῖ/ νόστος πρὸς οἴκους: ἡ δὲ βούλησις πάρα” (1017-19).35 Thinking up a clever ruse, Iphigenia informs the king that the cult statue from the temple of Artemis has been polluted by one of the sacrificial victims, and that she must purify both it and them (1157-

233). She uses the opportunity this creates to escape on a waiting boat with her brother. King

Thoas is alerted to Iphigenia’s flight by a messenger, who brings word that, rather than purifying the cult statue, Iphigenia has left with it on the Greek ship (1312-419). The messenger declares that Iphigenia “φόνον τὸν Αὐλίδι/ ἀµνηµόνευτον θεᾷ προδοῦσ᾽ ἁλίσκεται” (1418-19).36 It makes sense that the Taurians would view Iphigenia’s actions as a betrayal. Kyriakou observes that when Artemis placed Iphigenia down in Tauris, she was “in a way entrusting her to Thoas’ stewardship” (Commentary 431). With Iphigenia seemingly arriving by the will of the goddess, there is no reason for the Taurians to distrust the girl.

What they cannot know is that the abduction of the cult statue and betrayal of the sacrifice is preordained by the gods, and is thus not a betrayal at all. After all, as previously established, the gods are able to set their own definitions of what counts as a betrayal, and mortals are expected to follow them. However, this event does differ from a majority of instances in Euripides, and deserves further consideration. While Euripides’ extant works contain many instances of people slighting the gods, in most cases these slights are punished. For example, when Pentheus denies Dionysus, the god causes his mother to rip him apart limb from

35 “How then can we get what we want and avoid being killed? That is where the trouble lies for our journey home: we do not lack the will” (1017-19). 36 Iphigenia “stands convicted as betrayer of her unremembered sacrifice to the goddess in Aulis” (1418-19). 43

limb (Bacchae 215-262, 1200-90). When Hippolytus rejects Aphrodite in favour of Artemis,

Aphrodite causes his stepmother to lust after him, leading to both of their deaths (Hippolytus 1-

57).

Betrayal of the gods seemingly involves a violation of religious principles. For example, in Suppliants, the chorus asks, “τί δρᾷς; προδώσεις ταῦτα κἀκβαλεῖς χθονὸς/ γραῦς οὐ τυχούσας

οὐδὲν ὧν αὐτὰς ἐχρῆν;” (Suppliant Women 265-66).37 By expelling the suppliants, Theseus, the king being addressed, would in effect be betraying both the suppliants themselves and the gods, who expect human beings to behave in a certain way towards suppliants. In most cases, people attempt to avoid this sort of betrayal. For example, when Orestes is planning to kill Aegisthus, he encounters Aegisthus performing a sacrifice to the gods. Aegisthus attempts to purify Orestes, but Orestes refuses, explaining that he had already been purified elsewhere (Electra 774-96). If

Orestes had accepted, it would establish him as a guest of Aegisthus, and thus any act he performed against his host would be a betrayal of the guest/host relationship, which is protected by the god Zeus (Heffernan 17). By refusing Aegisthus’ hospitality, he sets himself as outside of the society involved in the ritual and is thus able to murder Aegisthus without bringing down the anger of the gods (830-58). Clearly betraying the expectations of the gods is considered one of the most significant forms of betrayal, as people nearly always attempt to avoid it.

The earlier example of Hippolytus shows that the gods do not always agree on what the correct course of action is in any given situation. It is not enough to have one god who favours you if the rest do not approve of your actions. Thus, it is unusual that not only do the gods not count the disruption of Artemis’ cult as a slight against them, but Artemis herself never appears

37 “Will you abandon this tie and expel from the land old women who have received nothing of what is owed to them?” (Euripides Suppliant Women 265-66). 44

in the play. It is through Athena that Thoas is informed that Iphigenia’s actions are god-driven

(Iphigenia in Tauris 1435-1474). Wolff speculates that this may have some connection to the fact that the Taurians are foreigners. The theft of the cult statue and its subsequent removal to

Attica would thus signify a symbolic “progression from barbaric to Greek” (315). Certain elements of the text, such as Pylades and Orestes seemingly spotting human heads decorating the

Taurian temple, establish the Taurians as barbaric at a relatively early section of the text

(O’Brien “Pelopid” 106-07).

The foreign status of the Taurians, then, seems to remove any punishment for betrayal from Iphigenia and Orestes. This would also explain the limited uses of betrayal language in the play. The conversation between the messenger and the king is the only time any of the Taurians is given voice to express feelings of betrayal, and the feelings of the Taurians are quickly discredited by a goddess – specifically, the goddess patron of the city where the play would be performed (Sommerstein 4-8) – effectively establishing Greek (and Athenian) supremacy.

The focus on tensions between Greeks and non-Greeks would also explain the remainder of uses of προδίδωµι in the text. The word is used only three other times, all three between

Orestes and Pylades (Iphigenia in Tauris 676-82, 706-07, 716-18). At the beginning of the play,

Orestes is still suffering the divine consequences of his matricide. He entreats his friend not to betray his sister and leave her alone, while Pylades repeatedly declares that nothing could induce him to do such a thing, and that he will continue to be loyal even after Orestes’ death. This is interesting in that all of the remaining mentions of betrayal in the play are rejections of betrayal acts between the few Greek characters. Compared with the lamentations of the foreign king, whose cries are quickly silenced by divine intervention, Orestes’ fears are allowed expression,

and repeatedly soothed. This certainly sets up a contrast between the way betrayal acts play out between Greeks and the way they play out between Greeks and foreigners.

2.8 Conclusion

A number of tensions, then, have been identified as playing a role in betrayal situations.

An individual’s position as man or god, man or woman, and Greek or foreigner can all affect how an act of betrayal is perceived. Gods do not have to justify their actions, which makes their position, obviously, the most powerful in the hierarchy of betrayals. However, mortals need to deal with the court of public opinion, which alone (in the mortal sphere) has the power to judge an act a true betrayal act, regardless of the private beliefs of the individuals actually involved in the act. Being an upper class Greek male gives a person the best chance of swaying public opinion, except when confronted with an upper class Greek male of equal or superior status, in which case either one can influence the audience depending on the narrative they are able to construct and the supporters they are able to obtain.

Those who have too many of the traits lower down on the hierarchy – female, foreign, and lower class – are less likely to be believed when they bring betrayal accusations, or even to be able to obtain an audience willing to listen to them.

Chapter Three: Betrayal in the Tales of the Völsungs

3.1 The Language of Betrayal

3.1.1 Introduction to the Tales of the Völsungs

Unlike the plays of Euripides, the sources that detail the lives of the Völsungs use more than one word to describe betrayals. There are three main verbs used to describe acts of betrayal

– svíkja, ráða, and véla, as well as two main nouns – svik and vél.38 Of these words, ráda is the least commonly used to describe betrayal acts. Before examining any possible differences in the definition of betrayal that these words provide, it is useful to note the complexities that come along with this sort of study.

Firstly, I am using a variety of texts that discuss the Sigurd myth. It is unknown who the authors of any of these texts are (Hollander Recent Work 108, Anderson 23). For the poems found collected in the Codex Regius, it is thus impossible to state definitively whether any of the works are written by the same author. Although each of the three words listed above seems to have a slightly different connotation in the discussion of a betrayal act, it is obvious that certain texts favour one word over another.39 For example, Grípisspá nearly always uses either véla or vél when describing betrayal acts40, while Fáfnismál tends to favour ráða, using it to describe the majority of betrayal incidents detailed in the poem.41 Therefore, if one poem uses one word and

38 tæla is used once in Fáfnismál 33 to refer to a betrayal act (see appendix B). 39 This may suggest different authors for texts that favour different words for betrayal, but again there is no definitive proof. 40 For example: “mun bióða þér biarthaddað man, dóttur sína, dregr hon vél at gram" (Grípisspá 33) (“she’ll offer you the bright-haired girl, her daughter, she’ll play a trick on the prince” [Larrington Edda 147].) 41 1) "Reginn mic réð, hann þic ráða mun, hann mun ocr verða báðom at bana” (Fáfnismál 22) (“Regin betrayed me, he’ll betray you, he’ll be the death of us both” [Larrington Edda 161].) 2) “þar er Reginn liggr, er hann ráðinn hefr, 47

another a different word, it may not be because the author is attempting to get across any particular connotation that that word supplies, but simply because the words are essentially synonymous and the author has a preference.

This problem is compounded by the fact that there is no clear consensus on when the poems were first written or composed (Hollander Recent Work 102, Anderson 25, Clark 6).

Thus, it is certainly possible that certain words for betrayal were more commonly used during different time periods, but were replaced by different ways of expressing the same idea.

Similarly, it is impossible to tell what particular geographical variants on betrayal terminology make their way into the poems, as there is no consensus on the exact geographical location from which each poem comes. This is particularly true as scholars posit foreign influences on creating the version of the Sigurd myth found in the Norse sources, with different sections of the text added due to different influences at different periods in time. The story that remains with us is complex.

The main story, as it comes down to us, is as follows: The Völsung line is called that because an ancestor of the family was named Völsung. This ancestor king has several sons and a daughter, Signy. He marries his daughter to a king named Siggeir, who betrays his new in-laws and slaughters the majority of the family. The only male left alive is Signy’s brother Sigmund.

Signy has no wish to see her last family member destroyed, and in fact wants revenge on her husband. She sends her children by Siggeir to her brother to aid him in his fight, but the children are not strong enough to help him, so Sigmund kills them. Determined to create a child strong

kannat hann við slíco at siá" (Fáfnismál 37) (“there Regin is lying and plotting against him; he doesn’t know how to guard against such a thing” [Larrington Edda 163].)

enough to destroy her husband, Signy has sexual intercourse with her brother Sigmund

(unbeknownst to him) and gives birth to a son – Sinfjotli. With the aid of this son, Sigmund is able to kill Siggeir, although Sinfjotli murders Signy’s remaining children by Siggeir along the way. Signy chooses to die with her husband in a gigantic fire that destroys his halls rather than live after betraying her husband in such a way. The next character the tale focuses on is Helgi,

Sigmund’s son by his wife Borghild. Helgi marries a woman named Sigrun, but in order to wed her he must kill her family, as they do not approve of the match. Only one of her brothers is left alive, because he swears an oath not to make further problems for the Völsungs. Eventually, he breaks his oath and kills Helgi. Helgi goes to Valhalla, but because Sigrun is so saddened by his death, Helgi returns to her for one night together, which they spend by his burial mound. Helgi’s half brother Sinfjotli is poisoned by Sigmund’s wife Borghild, who hates the young hero for murdering her brother in the course of his adventures. After this action, Borghild is driven out by

Sigmund and dies. The story then moves on to Sigmund’s next marriage, to a maiden named

Hjordis. Sigmund actually gets along quite well with Hjordis’ father, but unfortunately he had a rival for Hjordis’ hand. The other suitor, Lyngvi, invades with an army and kills Sigmund.

However, Hjordis escapes by hiding in the forest, and she is pregnant. In order to protect her son, the last of the Völsungs, Hjordis remarries. Her son, when he is born, is named Sigurd. The boy is raised by Hjordis’ new husband and his family until he is old enough to avenge the Völsung line. This leads into the next section of the text, and perhaps the one for which Sigurd is most famous – the dragon-slaying. Sigurd’s foster father is Regin, a dwarf with an unusual backstory.

When he was younger, Regin’s father gained an enormous fortune. In order to gain this treasure,

Regin’s brother Fafnir murdered their father and then turned himself into a dragon to guard his hoard. Regin desires Sigurd to kill the dragon in order that Regin can claim the portion of the

treasure he believes belongs to him. Sigurd completes this deed, but as he dies, Fafnir warns the hero that Regin plans to betray him. Sigurd continues to follow Regin’s plans, cooking the dragon’s heart so that Regin may eat it. However, Sigurd chances to put his finger, covered in the dragon’s blood, in his mouth, and from this gains the power to communicate with wildlife. The birds in the trees around him warn him again of Regin’s treachery, and Sigurd kills Regin. After this the storyline becomes a little unclear, with different poems providing sections that slightly contradict one another. However, the main ideas presented in the rest of the story are that Sigurd saves a warrior maiden, usually called Brynhild, from her ensorcelled sleep, and makes promises to marry her. Then he leaves the maiden in order to engage in further adventures, swearing to return. Before he can make good on these promises, Sigurd is given a potion that causes him to forget Brynhild. Grimhild, the woman who gives Sigurd the potion, is the wife of the powerful

King Gjuki, and believes Sigurd would make a wonderful son-in-law. By making him forget

Brynhild, she is able to arrange Sigurd’s marriage to her own daughter, Gudrun. Gudrun’s brother, Gunnar, eventually decides to make a marriage of his own – to Brynhild. However, there is peril awaiting any who desire the maiden. She is shielded by a circle of fire and will only marry the man who can ride through it. Gunnar is unable to penetrate the flame, but Sigurd can.

Taking Gunnar’s form, he rides through the flame, and Brynhild is promptly married to Gunnar.

Yet trouble arises for everyone when Gudrun reveals to Brynhild that it was Sigurd who truly passed her test. Furious and betrayed, Brynhild persuades Gunnar to murder Sigurd. After this comes to pass, she burns herself alive on Sigurd’s funeral pyre. In one poem, Gunnar then falls in love with Brynhild’s sister, Oddrun. Unable to persuade her brother, Atli, to allow them to wed,

Gunnar begins an affair with the woman. Eventually, though, they are discovered together, angering Atli greatly. Gudrun, now husbandless, is wed to Atli. However, she never loves him,

and when he plots to invite her brothers to his hall and then murder them, she warns her family.

They do not listen to her warning and are slaughtered. Oddrun is left desolate. Gudrun gets her vengeance on her husband, killing him with the help of one remaining nephew. Husbandless once again, Gudrun is married to yet another king, and has several sons by him. Eventually

Svanhild, Gudrun’s daughter by Sigurd, is married to a wealthy king. However, when the king believes Svanhild is having an affair with his son, he kills them both. Gudrun is furious, and persuades her sons to avenge their half sister’s death. They attempt to, but murder one of their number along the way, believing him unessential to their mission. Due to his absence, they are all slaughtered, but not before avenging their sister.

It would certainly make sense that certain sections of the text were added at different times as different cultures came into contact, as there are numerous parts to the tale – all somewhat tangentially related. However, studies cannot agree on which foreign sources inspired the texts and in what order different sections of the text were added. For example, Schofield believes that there is a Celtic influence in certain sections of myth dealing with Sigurd’s father

Sigmund and his sister Signy, believing that certain elements of their sexual union are similar to the Celtic Sovereignty myth, where a hideous woman is made beautiful through intercourse with the rightful ruler, thus giving him legitimacy (276-78). Larsen thinks that the oldest core of the

Sigurd story is the tale of Sigurd waking a maiden (Brynhild) and then being led to forget his oaths to her (72), while Goebel believes that Brynhild is a later addition to an older Sigurd myth where Sigurd died tragically at the hands of greedy relatives who desired his treasure (lxiv).

Petrie maintains that the story of Brynhild was originally a Hun folk tale (161), while Taranu holds that the original Sigurd myth was about the dispute between two women (the Brynhild and

Gudrun figures) that leads to the tragic death of a young man (32). Clearly there is a great deal of ambiguity if the tales of the Völsungs are approached in this way.

Due to all of these factors, it is difficult to determine exactly the significance of each word for betrayal. However, despite everything just stated, there do seem to be some slight differences in the way each word describes betrayal acts – differences that can be used to further a study of betrayal. These seeming differences are often slight, but still important.

3.1.2 Three Words for Betrayal

Of the words used to describe betrayal acts, ráða differs most from the others in meaning.

In the first place, it does not only mean ‘to betray’. In fact, betrayal is not even the key use of the word. Its primary meaning is ‘to advise’ or ‘to council’. It is related to the German word ‘raten’ and the English word ‘read’ (Icelandic-English Dictionary). Compared to the great number of uses of ráða in this capacity in the studied texts, the number of times ráða is used to mean ‘to betray’ is actually quite small. Its usage as a verb meaning ‘to betray’ contains elements of its primary meaning. Ráða is always used to describe betrayal acts that are well thought out and carefully premeditated. For example, in Atlamál in Grœnlenzco, the word ‘sannráðnir’ is used to describe King Atli’s betrayal against his in-laws, who are the brothers of his wife Gudrun (1).42

The first two stanzas of the poem stress the amount of plotting and ill council that it took to come to this plan, focusing on the amount of premeditation needed to make the decision (1-2). Adding an element not present in the primary meaning of ráða (‘to advise’), the word also usually describes betrayal acts that result in murder. In the previous example, for instance, Atli’s plan

42 œxto einmæli, yggt var þeim síðan ok iþ sama sonom Giúca, er vóro sannráðnir (Atlamál in Grœnlenzco 1). (They talked privately together, terror came of it afterward, for them and for the sons of Giuki, who were utterly betrayed [Larrington Edda 217].) 52

involves inviting Gudrun’s brothers to him with false promises of hospitality and gift giving and then murdering them all once they are in his hall. They are not expected to survive his betrayal act. Conversely, betrayals where there is no death involved, such as when Brynhild is fooled into marrying Gunnar, but is not killed, do not use raða as the verb to describe the act.43 Raða is the least used of the three commonly used words for betrayal in the studied texts.

Both svíkja and véla, and the associated nouns vél and svik, (all of which are frequently used in descriptions of betrayals) can be used to describe either nonfatal or fatal betrayal acts.

However, the concept of betrayal present in these words is very different than that found in the earlier Greek texts. Rather than betrayal describing a type of abandonment or specific direction of movement, both svíkja and véla seem to describe a situation where the act of betrayal is the hiding of some form of knowledge from an individual who urgently needs the information to make an important decision. For instance, in the previously given example of Brynhild44, which uses the verb véla, Brynhild is furious about the information she has discovered. Were there no secrecy surrounding her marriage, she would never have married her husband Gunnar, as he was not the one who actually passed the tests to win her hand – that was Sigurd. Similarly, in an example using svik, when the powerful leader Gripir is telling Sigurd his future, he declares, “Þú verðr, siclingr, fyr svicom annars,/ mundo Grímhildar gialda ráða” (Grípisspá 33).45 This is referring to the instance when Grimhild gives Sigurd that potion that erases his memory, thus permitting him to marry Gudrun, due to his lack of memory of his previous oaths to Brynhild.

43 In this particular example, the verb used is véla: “þar varð ec þess vís, er ec vildigac, at þau vélto mic í verfangi” (Helreið Brynhildar 13). (“then I discovered what I wish I’d never known, that they’d betrayed me in my taking a husband” [Larrington Edda 194].) 44 see footnote 43 45 “Prince, victim of another’s treachery you’ll be, Grimhild’s councils will prevail” (Larrington Edda 147). 53

Once again, it is the fact information is concealed, forcibly and against the wishes of the affected individual, that constitutes the betrayal. There is an aspect of veiling in many of the uses of svíkja and véla, an aspect where the hiding of information seems to be the key factor that makes the act an act of betrayal.

Svíkja and svik both nearly always mean betrayal. Orel believes it to be derived from the reconstructed Proto-Germanic word *swīk(w)anan. The Old English word swícan (to wander), the Old Saxon swíkan (to desert), and the Old High German word swíhhan (to turn away) are derived from this same word (397), suggesting that svíkja’s form of betrayal involves some form of desertion – the desertion of the betrayed by the betrayer. Orel thinks that svik comes from the reconstructed Proto-Germanic word *swikan, which he believes to be derived from the previously mentioned word *swīk(w)anan. Thus this noun, too, refers to some sort of desertion.

The only instance in the texts where these words are not used entirely to mean betrayal is in

Helgakviða Hundingsbana ǫnnor. The titular character, Helgi, has died, and his faithful wife

Sigrun mourns him deeply. One day, Sigrun’s maid, passing by Helgi’s burial mound, sees a great many men on horseback, amongst them Helgi – back from Valhalla to speak to his wife one final time. The maid asks Helgi whether the horses and men she sees before her are really there or whether it is a deception (svik) (40). Even in this case, what she is worried about is true information being hidden from her and an illusion providing her with fake knowledge, while real knowledge remains elusive. She believes her eyes have betrayed her.

In contrast, véla and vél can be used to describe acts that, while unsavoury, are not necessarily betrayals. These words are related to the Early Runic word welA (deceitful) and the

Finnish loan word vihlata (delude) (Kortlandt 302), which makes it logical that they can also have the more general meaning of artifice or trickery (Icelandic-English Dictionary). In order to

trick someone, the perpetrator and recipient of the act of trickery do not require the same perceived level of trust between them as they do for it to count as a betrayal act. Thus, while acts described using véla can be betrayals, the word can also describe a certain aspect of the vileness of betrayal – the trickery that causes betrayed individuals to feel pain. Véla is often used to describe borderline betrayal acts, where there is some sort of trust or contract between two individuals that is broken but not quite a close enough bond to be the strongest of betrayal acts.

For example, when Grimhild betrays Sigurd by persuading him to woo Brynhild for Gunnar46,

Grimhild and Sigurd are not the greatest of friends, and have sworn no blood oaths, as Sigurd has with Gunnar. Yet there is an element of betrayal there, just not as strong an act of betrayal as it would be were Sigurd and Grimhild closer. Although this is generally how véla is used, it can be hard to determine in certain instances whether such a meaning is intended or whether it is simply being used synonymously with svíkja.

3.2 Betrayal of Expectations

The use of words, such as véla, to describe betrayals that occur between people who are not as closely bound makes sense when put in context of the types of betrayal found in Norse myth. One of the most interesting things about betrayals found in Norse texts is that not all of them correspond to either the criteria enumerated in modern analyses of betrayal acts or the previous acts of betrayal discussed in the chapter on Euripides. Modern scholarship on betrayal in our society focuses on betrayal acts as depending on the perceptions of the betrayed and betrayer in the situation. To recapitulate, intentional betrayals are treated more harshly than

46 "Þic mun Grímhildr gorva véla, mun hon Brynhildar biðia fýsa Gunnari til handa” (Grípisspá 35) (“Grimhild will thoroughly deceive you, she’ll urge you to woo Brynhild for Gunnar” [Larrington Edda 147])

unintentional betrayals. A betrayal can be simply summarized as a violation of expectations, wherein one person has expectations of an individual and the second individual breaks those expectations. The focus is on the two individuals. While the Greek texts focus quite a bit on the concept of public disapproval being valuable in order to have a betrayal act publically regarded as a betrayal, the central focus is still on the expressed emotions and the reactions of the betrayed and betrayer, with the group weighing in only to decide the validity of a betrayal claim. The

Völsung myths contain a portrayal of betrayal quite different than this, in that neither of the people involved in a betrayal situation needs to express a feeling of being betrayed in order for it to count as a betrayal. There can be no trust between the two people involved and it is still called a betrayal act. This is because, rather than Norse myths focusing on the violated personal expectations of the two people most closely involved in the situation, they focus on the violated expectations of the cultural group.47 There are many betrayal acts where no level of expressed personal intimacy exists between two individuals and where the betrayed does not care about the betrayal on a personal level. The majority of such betrayals of public expectations occur between people in distant kinship roles, where cultural expectations provide a set of rules but the individuals involved never develop the bond society demands. Three key examples of this form of betrayal are Regin and Sigurd, Siggeir and Sigmund, and Gudrun’s brothers and Atli.

The prose section at the beginning of Reginsmál informs us that Regin is, in fact,

Sigurd’s foster father, but in the case of Sigurd and Regin, it is clear from the very beginning of their relationship that Sigurd does not respect Regin. This aspect of their relationship holds true for the majority of representations of the two in Norse mythology. In Reginsmál, before Sigurd

47 This is not to say that there are not numerous examples where betrayals occur in situations where high emotional expectations and complete trust existed between two people. 56

has avenged his father’s death, Regin hounds Sigurd to kill Fafnir. Sigurd rebukes him, saying that he would be laughed at if he preferred gaining treasure from the dragon to avenging his family (15). He is disdainful of Regin’s suggestion. From the beginning, their conceptions of what is important do not align.

Meanwhile, Regin is clearly only training Sigurd because he wants the boy to kill Regin’s brother, the dragon Fafnir. Although the prose in Reginsmál explains that Regin loves Sigurd deeply, this is never supported by his actions or words. He consistently praises Sigurd’s strength, but always in the pursuit of persuading Sigurd to kill Fafnir (13-15). The relationship continues in this way for most of the storyline. Regin persuades Sigurd to kill Fafnir, but when the hero actually performs the deed, Regin hides himself away, causing Sigurd to declare, “Fiarri þú gect, meðan ec á Fafni rauþc/ minn inn hvassa hiǫr;/ afli míno atta ec við funa!/ eiscǫld ec vil etinn láta/ eptir þenna dreyra drycc” (Fáfnismál 28).48 The two still cannot share an idea of what is right and what is wrong, as Regin desires to gain treasure without possessing the willingness to fight for it, while Sigurd is a hero searching for adventures. After Fafnir’s death, Regin goes so far as to claim that part of the credit for the victory should go to him, as Sigurd would not have been able to kill Fafnir without the sword Regin made for him (27). This is despite the fact that

Regin hid for the entire confrontation between Fafnir and Sigurd.

From this initial perspective, later descriptions of their relationship seem to present some discrepancies. While Sigurd is roasting the dragon’s heart, he accidentally touches it and sticks his finger in his mouth, tasting some of the blood. This grants him the ability to hear the speech of animals. Instantly, he overhears some birds speaking about him. One says “Þar liggr Reginn,

48 “You went far off while in Fafnir I was reddening/ my sharp sword;/ my strength I needed against the dragon’s might,/ while you lurked in the heather” (Larrington Edda 162). 57

ræðr um við sic,/ vill tæla mǫg, þann er trúir hánom” (33).49 This description does not seem to match the way Sigurd has behaved towards Regin. Regin has never given him any reason to trust him, and Sigurd has always appeared to hold him in contempt. There is no indication that the bond between them was such that the breaking of it could be called a betrayal by any of the cultural criteria discussed so far. Sigurd never seems to expect anything positive from Regin. Yet betrayal is consistently what Regin’s foretold action is called. For example, Fafnir similarly mentions “"Reginn mic réð, hann þic ráða mun,/ hann mun ocr verða báðom at bana” (22).50 He, too, feels that Regin’s actions constitute a betrayal.

The terminology starts to makes sense when considered in the light of Norse societal expectations. The foster family relationship was a system of “tributary milk kinship” that allowed powerful families to strengthen ties to less powerful families dependent on them by having their children raised in these client households (Parkes 592). Their children formed strong bonds with the members of the other family, increasing loyalty. Such relationships were legally enforced – Icelandic law permitted foster kin as equal a right to vengeance for a murdered individual as for blood relations (603). In a culture where murdering a close family member was considered a form of madness, because no sane person would do such a thing, this is an incredibly strong tie (Høyerstein 326). It is clear that this system of fostering would be of great value in stabilizing and increasing relationships in a society where there was no central judiciary system powerful enough to effectively enforce laws. Gíslason comments that “[f]or the first three hundred years of its history, Iceland relied on an unusually high degree of self-regulation of

49 “There lies Regin plotting to himself,/ he wants to betray the boy, the one who trusts him” (Larrington Edda 163). 50 “Regin betrayed me, he’ll betray you, he’ll be the death of us both” (Larrington Edda 161).

disputes, because the medieval Icelandic legal structure made the parties themselves administer and enforce their claims” (14-15). In such a society, having a strong network of supporters connected to a core family group would assist the group in supporting legal claims. Fostering allowed such connections to be built up from childhood, with children of two families spending a great deal of time together and ideally developing a strong sense of loyalty to one another. The societal expectations by which this system was driven are violated by Regin’s intended action of killing Sigurd, causing this action to be perceived as a betrayal. Loyalty does not seem to be necessarily attached to a societal expectation of emotional closeness, and thus betrayal is not tied to a societally witnessed breaking of that closeness.

The other two examples both focus on the tensions that could arise upon a woman’s marriage. Rosenthal explains that such a marriage was often supposed either to ease tensions between families or build new relationships between families that did not know each other particularly well (135-36). In these marriages, women were perceived as “peace pledges” and would ideally act in a somewhat ambassadorial fashion in their husband’s family – positioning themselves between their husband and their natal family members and promoting peaceful relations between the two (Jamison 24). Such marriages were thought of as good ways to end blood feuds, as family members had legal obligations to their kin by marriage. This meant that if either family originally involved in a blood feud returned to feuding after marriage with a member of the other family, it would be in violation of clearly laid out societal codes of conduct.

This would ideally discourage such behaviour. Both affines and consanguines were included in laws governing the actions relatives needed to take for vengeance in case they were wronged and

governing which family members were given wergild51 if an individual was killed (Barlau 192).

Rather than continuing blood feuds, these laws seem designed to join newly married families as allies against an externalized enemy. These were the societal expectations for such a marriage.

As the examples of Siggeir’s marriage to Signy and Gudrun’s marriage to Atli show, such marriages did not always work and frequently ended in betrayal acts.

King Siggeir’s family is not closely entwined with the Völsungs until he comes asking for Signy’s hand in marriage. In order to make an alliance, Signy’s father, King Volsung, agrees to the deal (Völsunga Saga 87-89). However, Siggeir proves treacherous and tricks his new in- laws into a trap. He invites them to a feast, and when they arrive by ship, he meets them at the shore with a large army (Völsunga Saga 89-92). Of Signy’s male relatives, only her brother

Sigmund (who will eventually father Sigurd) is left alive. When describing Siggeir’s behaviour,

Signy cries, “ok ætlar at svíkja yðr” (Völsunga Saga 90.16).52 Siggeir is a betrayer of his wife’s entire family. Similarly to Sigurd and Regin, there is never described to be any particular fondness between Siggeir and Signy’s male relatives. In fact, these parties have not gotten along well ever since Signy and Siggeir’s marriage feast, when Odin entered in disguise holding a sword. He thrust the sword into the trunk of a great tree growing in the middle of King

Volsung’s hall and said that whoever could draw it from the trunk would own it and never have a better sword (Völsunga Saga 87-89). Sigmund proves the man able to draw the sword, at which point he refuses to give it to his new brother in-law. While this makes sense according to the rules Odin laid down, Davidson notes that Siggeir may well have been right to be insulted.

51 Money paid to an individual by a family who had injured the individual, or to an individual’s family if the injured party was killed. 52 “And he plans to betray you” (Byock Saga 40). 60

Siggeir was likely so angry because the sword is often a symbol of marriage and the continuation of the family line, and thus this sword is a symbol of how Siggeir’s marriage to Signy will go and of their potential offspring, both of which are symbolically denied to him by Sigmund when

Sigmund refuses him the sword (5). Russell adds that the tree can also be seen as connected to marriage and fertility (226), and Sigmund’s drawing of the sword can be seen as a symbolic representation of the fact that Sigmund will be the one to eventually impregnate his sister with a great hero (227), similarly denying Siggeir the very things the alliance between their families is supposed to guarantee. Rosenthal notes that such disputes between two newly united families pose a problem for the idea that women’s marriages can prevent conflict. If factors do not perfectly align, it is possible that such a marriage will simply bring into contact two groups that beforehand had never had reason to interact and make rivals of them, as now they are aware of each other to a greater degree and can develop grudges about the actions of the other family

(136). This is the case in Siggeir and Signy’s union. Beforehand, their families were not closely linked and thus were not in conflict. After the wedding, though, Siggeir has reasons to resent his new family and thus reasons to want revenge. Since the wedding, then, there are no personal ties connecting Siggeir to Signy’s relations; there is only the legally determined family tie. Yet the breaking of this tie is enough to gain the act the title of betrayal, due to the fact that the group does not expect an expressed emotional closeness to come along with loyalty.

Similar is the case of Gudrun’s family and Atli, except that there is rather more history between the two families. By the time Gudrun marries Atli, her brothers have already caused the death of Atli’s sister Brynhild. Such a marriage was not uncommon, as marriages were often contracted in order to end blood feuds. Rather than have family members continue killing members of the other family, both families would agree to end the feud by uniting through

marriage. This was a way to end their hostilities without either side feeling their honour was injured (Rosenthal 135). However, the fact that there was animosity between the families in the past does make it seem a little odd, given previous definitions of betrayal, when they react to

Atli’s actions as a betrayal act. There is never any expression of personal loyalty – an

“understanding unique to the relationship bond” rather than the “global rule of public behaviour”

(Jones et al. 235) – between the two families, which is expected in our society for a later act to be considered a betrayal. Atli invites his brothers in-law to a feast but plans to kill them when they arrive. When they enter Atli’s hall, Gudrun declares “Ráðinn ertu nú, Gunnarr, hvat muntu, rícr, vinna/ við Húna harmbrǫgðom? hǫll gac þú ór snemma!” (Atlaqviða in Grœnlenzca 15).53 Atli is seen as a man willing to break the societally enforced bond between himself and his kinsmen. He is betraying the publically expected terms of his relationship with his marital connection, even if neither group has any fondness for the other.

It is likely this perception that a betrayal act is an act that undercuts group expectations, rather than an act requiring recognition of an emotional closeness between betrayed and betrayer, is caused by the type of group mentality present in Norse society. Gaskins suggests that individuality is not an idea that is very important in Norse culture at the time, as “[t]rust in oneself is good as far as it goes, but it is no substitute for trust in one's chosen allies.” Byock explains that the Icelandic hero is different from other epic heroes, since Iceland never had the sort of conflicts that either unite a group as a nation against the foreign other or divide it into warring clan divisions (Feud 2-3). Rather, the family group was of vital importance, providing a limited group on which individuals could depend (87). The individual is unable to thrive as a

53 “Betrayed you are now, Gunnar; what, mighty lord, will help you against the evil tricks of the Huns? Quickly, leave the hall!” (Larrington Edda 212). 62

single unit. In contrast, when all actions are performed to benefit the family group, everyone has a better chance of survival. Thus, when the family unit’s expectations are violated by extended family, it seems from the examples in the tales of the Völsungs that such a violation counts as an act of betrayal. This can best be understood through the conception that the betrayed in this instance is not the individual but the entirety of the individual’s family, and the betrayer is not only the individual who committed the betrayal act but as many of the betrayer’s family as wish to stand by their kinsman’s action. This is usually a sort of betrayal that takes place between kinsmen not actually related by blood. The places where two separate families seek to join together – through fostering or through marriage – expose weaknesses in both families that are often exploited through betrayal acts.

3.3 Gender and Betrayal

3.3.1 Warnings of Betrayal

Many instances of betrayal between families have to do with women and marriage. Most uses of all three words for betrayal are not used to accuse people directly of betrayal acts, but rather as prophetic sayings – a finding that is in stark opposition to the way the term is used in the plays of Euripides. Even in those instances where betrayal words are not used to foretell the future, quite often the words are not used as accusation. In many cases, they are used as warning.

This is a use that is particularly common for women, who are frequently in a position where they become aware of impending danger to the men in their lives. In their position as a link between two families (Jamison 14), they are uniquely situated to hear information both from their marital family and their natal kin. In mythic literature, this information frequently involves plots to betray. Thus several of the times in which words for betrayal are used by women are in

warnings. These warnings can be to either their natal or their marital families, depending on where their loyalties lie.

One excellent example of this is Gudrun’s warning to her brothers when her husband Atli decides to lure them to his court with promises of treasure, in order to kill them (Atlaqviða in

Grœnlenzca 1-16). She hears him plotting with his most trusted men and sends her brothers a message in runes, warning them not to trust Atli. The message, though, is altered by Atli’s messenger before it can reach her family (Atlamál in Grœnlenzco 4). After her brothers arrive at

Atli’s hall, Gudrun tries once again to warn them, exclaiming, as quoted earlier, that “Ráðinn ertu nú, Gunnarr, hvat muntu, rícr, vinna/ við Húna harmbrǫgðom? hǫll gac þú ór snemma!”

(Atlaqviða in Grœnlenzca 15).54 Through her marital tie, Gudrun has learned vital information that directly affects her natal family. Were she not in Atli’s hall, she would never have noticed his plotting. Once she has noticed, though, she has a choice. She can either warn her natal family or favour her marital connection and do nothing to prevent Atli’s plans. There is never any hesitation in her decision. She tries repeatedly to warn her family. When she warns her brothers in the hall, she is even warning them directly in front of her husband. Her loyalties are not a secret.

Signy is involved in a similar situation. When Siggeir invites her family to the disastrous feast at which they are killed, she attempts to warn her family (Völsunga Saga 90-92). It is not told exactly how Signy learns this information, but the close proximity she had to her husband in his hall would likely have provided her with many opportunities to discover his plans. When her

54 “Betrayed you are now, Gunnar; what, mighty lord, will help you against the evil tricks of the Huns? Quickly, leave the hall!” (Larrington Edda 212).

family members arrive, she has the freedom to go alone to meet them by their ships, at which point she provides the warning. Like Gudrun, she chooses to be loyal to her natal family rather than accept the plotting of her husband.

The warning role of women extends even beyond situations where it is reasonable by normal human standards that a woman would know the information she does. Frequently in

Norse myth, foretelling is a gift possessed by women. Morris describes the female magic user as frequently appearing as a “seeress and as the interpreter of fate” (23). She is able to read the future and determine the path fate has determined a person will walk. Jochens explains that the magic of foretelling possessed by prophetesses was known as seiðr. Such a prophetess was known as a vǫlva. The practice of seiðr was originally supposed to have come from the gods, although a few mythological mortal women also practiced it. Apparently seiðr was well known by the goddess Freyja, who presumably taught it to Odin (72). It was considered “unmanly” for a man to perform such acts (72-73). A man engaged in such activities was considered a pervert, perhaps in part because men practicing seiðr frequently cross-dressed as one part of the activity

(Frankki 429). In one poem in the Poetic Edda where the god Loki is insulting all of the gods, he accuses Odin of practicing seiðr (Locasenna 24). But despite Odin’s apparent familiarity with the practice, even he at times consulted female seeresses. The entirety of the Vǫlospá in the Poetic

Edda revolves around this concept, with Odin asking about the future of the gods.

Due to their frequently possessed powers of foretelling, mythological women are uniquely situated to warn of betrayals. One woman who uses such special abilities to warn her husband of the dangers he will face is Kostbera, the wife of Gudrun’s brother Hogni. After

Gunnar and his entourage, including Hogni, have agreed to visit Atli’s hall, Kostbera has a set of strange dreams. She dreams that fires would rage through the buildings where she lives and burn

Hogni’s bedclothes, that a bear would come and smash her home, and that an eagle would come and sprinkle the family with blood. Interpreting these dreams as prophetic, she determines that they mean the runic message sent by Gudrun originally must have been a warning, and that only their downfall awaits the men at Atli’s hall (Atlamál in Grœnlenzco 6-20).

Connected to the role of magical warnings by women, many other utterances of betrayal words are spoken as warnings through supernatural encounters. Such are the warnings that Fafnir and the birds give Sigurd when Regin is planning to betray him. Dragons and talking birds are not common real world occurrences, and they are able to use their supernatural powers to warn the hero of impending danger.

Men (excluding magical males such as Fafnir) never use words for betrayal to warn, and in fact usually ignore the warning given by the women in their lives. Signy’s father, for example, declares that, despite the danger offered by Siggeir, he will not flee, as that would prove him a coward. He would rather die (Völsunga Saga 90-92). Hogni, meanwhile, discounts his wife’s warnings, suggesting a different meaning for her dreams. He believes that the bedclothes burning simply means that the bedclothes have no value and will eventually be burned up, that the bear is a symbol of a blizzard from the east, and that the eagle is a symbol they will soon sacrifice oxen

(15-20).

This introduces a clear difference in male and female behaviour in relationship to betrayals. Women are the ones who warn, often by means of their powers of foretelling, while men are the ones who ignore these warnings and proceed into potentially dangerous situations.

Likely this stems from that fact that the Norse lived in a culture where honour was extremely important. In this culture, similar to the environment described earlier of the Greeks, honour was considered a commodity that could be lost or won (Andersson 40). Encountering danger and

emerging victorious could win a man honour while at the same time causing his opponent to lose honour. In such a culture, dangerous situations were needed to prove a man worthy of praise. By the standards of such a society, men who were willing to brave danger even after knowing the danger existed were braver than those who accidentally encountered danger – as such men were willingly going into a situation where their deaths were possible, perhaps even likely. In this way, as Clark notes, “the greater the sacrifices a vengeance requires the more heroic it is” (2).

3.3.2 Betrayal Accusations

Interestingly, in contrast to the way such words are used in Euripides, Norse men and women are about equally likely to use words for betrayal as an accusation to dishonour others.55

For example, Brynhild accuses Sigurd of betrayal, saying, “Hví sætir þinni dirfð, er þú ferr mik at hitta; mér var engi verri í þessum svikum” (Völsunga Saga 152.14-15)56 while Atli accuses

Gudrun’s brothers of crimes against him, declaring, “firðan mic frœndom, fé opt svikinn,/ sendoð systr Helio, slícs ec mest kennomc” (Atlamál in Grœnlenzco 56).57 They have betrayed him by keeping property he believes should be his from him, and he wishes to destroy them for this and their other crimes.

There are a few connected reasons that would explain this gender equality in accusations.

Firstly, women had somewhat more freedom in the Norse society than Greek women possessed.

They were, for instance, allowed to inherit the entire family fortune if they had no brothers

(Schulman), and received an inheritance from their parents even if they did have brothers (Barlau

193). They were included in legal codes specifying which individuals were expected to engage in

55 For more examples, see appendices. 56 “How arrogant you are to come to see me! No one has behaved worse toward me in this treachery” (Byock Saga 86). 57 “[Y]ou’ve deprived me of kinsmen, swindled me of property, you sent my sister off to hell, that is what matters most to me” (Larrington Edda 225). 67

blood feuds and claim wergild for family members (192). Clover speculates that for certain women, gender may not even have been an issue. She suggests that the Norse did not view gender as binary. Rather, there was only the male gender, which was defined by a set of social markers, not physical sex; everyone who did not fit the set of markers for male would fall into a general category of non-masculine (379). Thus, women could potentially be categorized as masculine through adopting the proper social markers, such as masculine dress (370). In this theory, it is powerlessness that is judged as lesser, and a woman who proved she was powerful

(although many factors prevented women from doing so) was regarded as equal to a man who had done the same (379). Self suggests something similar, arguing that Valkyries may have been thought of as a third gender that possessed attributes of the masculine and the feminine (144), and only became women when they were married and lost their masculine characteristics (147).

In any case, there appears to have been some fluidity in gender roles, which allowed for somewhat more positively viewed expressions of agency from women. Speaking of women in the Sagas, von Sweringen declares that courage was as equally expected of women as of men, and that a heroine went to her death with a “brave smile” (512).

However, even if some women did manage to escape the limitations imposed upon them by the Norse culture due to their gender, the majority of women were not considered equal to men. For example, women were not officially allowed to participate in politics, and thus could not officially affect the laws that governed their lives (Van Deusen 53). Although they had somewhat more liberties than their Greek counterparts, this just gave them a different set of challenges that they needed to face and a few more tools that they could employ to affect their situation. Straus observes that one of the few weapons women had access to was their words

(268). Through speech and lamentation, women could affect the way their audience perceived

the truth (272). While there were clear exceptions, the majority of Norse women were unable to directly defend themselves. Quite often, this means that women in texts defend themselves through words. This leads to the Norse concept of the whetter (or inciter) – a woman who can use words to prompt the men around her into action on her behalf. Friðriksdóttir declares that

“the female inciter uses words that function as speech acts to empower herself to participate in the male sphere” (25). Since women are for the most part unable to physically protect their own interests, they use the male honour code to their advantage. If a man is insulted in certain ways

(such as through accusations of cowardice), he is forced to prove the accusations false through action. Thus, through goading the males around her with specific accusations, a whetting woman can manipulate a situation into a form she would like. In this way, a woman can gain some measure of power and protect herself from hostile forces by acquiring a male champion who will perform actions she wishes to be performed on her behalf. There is some debate as to the historical basis that inspires the whetter character. While some believe the whetter figure is based on the actual roles women were expected to take in society, others consider her to be a physical manifestation of older heroic values, encouraging male figures to engage in behaviour that is no longer fully sanctioned at the time a text was written (Friðriksdóttir 20, Jochens 203). Whether historically factual or not, in the texts, such whetting is an effective tool for a woman to use.

Bryan adds another layer of complexity onto the situation, suggesting that in Norse texts, direct aggression (such as declaring someone is a betrayer) is considered a form of weakness. The stronger party in an argument tends to use indirect aggression, while the weaker party tends to turn to increasing directness in an attempt to overpower the other participant (349). Therefore, the fact women tend to level accusations of betrayal at people more frequently in these texts may actually present the women as the weaker parties in the situations, forced to directly state what

they think rather than forcing their opponents to look for their meaning in a maze of indirectness.

Thus, whetting may be a sign of weakness, as a woman is forced to make use of direct language to influence those around her.

Whetting women frequently use a male’s obligation to observe societally sanctioned kinship ties to motivate the man to action. Although they do not always use words specifically describing the lack of action in such a situation as a betrayal, it has been previously established that not observing such ties would constitute a betrayal. One example of this occurs in Gudrun’s final marriage, after her daughter by Sigurd, Svanhild, has been married and her new marital family has murdered her. Gudrun goads her remaining sons to action by appealing to their role as brothers, reminding them that the murdered girl was their sister and declaring that they will be cowards if they do nothing (Guðrúnarhvǫt 1-3). Brynhild uses the opposite tactic when she addresses Gunnar after discovering the deception she was inadvertently a part of when she married him. She goads him to kill Sigurd, saying, “Ek vil eigi lifa […] þvíat Sigurðr hefir mik vélt, ok eigi síðr þik, þá er þú lézt hann fara í mína sæng” (Völsunga Saga 154.27-155.2).58

Rather than using the fear of breaking a relationship and being declared a betrayer, as Gudrun does, to motivate Gunnar, Brynhild declares that Gunnar himself has been betrayed. Betrayal is an important accusation that can be made against a man in order to prompt other men into the sort of action a woman desires. In this case, Brynhild also wisely uses an accusation close enough to the truth that Gunnar cannot automatically discount her words. By claiming Sigurd engaged in a sexual betrayal, she strikes close to Gunnar’s fears and insecurities. The fact that he

58 “I do not want to live […] because Sigurd has betrayed me, and he betrayed you no less, when you let him come into my bed” (Byock Saga 88).

needed Sigurd to claim Brynhild as his wife is already a weakness in a society that does not respect such weaknesses, and so Brynhild’s claim that Sigurd betrayed Gunnar by having sexual intercourse with her in the course of obeying Gunnar’s commands is not just a comment intended to insult Gunnar and make him question Sigurd. It is the presentation of a chance for Gunnar to reclaim his lost honour by killing Sigurd. There is more at stake for Gunnar than is at first evident. In this way, betrayal exposes the differences in power between men and women in

Norse society.

3.4 Betrayal and Fate

Committing betrayal acts is in clear contrast to the knowing openness found in the tales of the Völsungs. There is an obsession in these texts with obtaining knowledge of events. This manifests itself in the previously mentioned abundance of prophecies and foretelling. Frequently, characters are presented with knowledge of their futures. In the Codex Regius, there are several poems that are entirely about people being told what to expect in their futures. In Völuspá, Odin is given information – starting with information about the beginning of the world and ending with the end of the world – by a seeress, while the entirety of Grípisspá revolves around Sigurd listening to the prophecies of a wise leader named Gripir, who can foresee Sigurd’s future.

Similarly, when Sigurd rescues the Valkyrie Sigrdrifa (often conflated with Brynhild), she gives him advice, ending her advice with the information (seemingly a foretelling) that she does not believe that he will live long (Sigrdrífomál 37). McMahon observes that such a power of foretelling seems to run in Brynhild’s family (482). Just before her death, Brynhild predicts the future of Gunnar’s family, describing how Atli will betray them by killing them (Sigurðarqviða in Scamma 59). McMahon determines that her sister Oddrun has some healing ability (480).

Prophetic speeches are often rife with instances of betrayal. In Gripir’s exposition of the future alone, he uses the word véla six times and svíkja once.59 This makes for a situation in which it is common for a hero not just to know that there is potential danger in his future but the exact outline of that future. He knows the exact way in which he will die and all the betrayals that will lead up to that moment. In fact, the majority of words for betrayal in the tales of the

Völsungs are instances found in prophetic speeches, rather than as accusations as is the case in the plays of Euripides.

Yet, this knowledge of betrayal acts never changes anything. No one attempts to avoid their foretold futures. When Gripir informs Sigurd of his future, he does not question the fact he will die or ask if there is anything he can do to avoid his death. Instead, he is distressed by the fact

Gripir declares he will engage in faithless actions (Grípisspá 32). He is not worried about death but about whether his life will be full of honourable actions. In rare situations, people use the fact

59 1)“Þú verðr, siclingr, fyr svicom annars, mundo Grímhildar gialda ráða” (Grípisspá 33) (“Prince, victim of another’s treachery you’ll be, Grimhild’s councils will prevail” [Larrington Edda 147].) 2) “mun bióða þér biarthaddað man, dóttur sína, dregr hon vél at gram" (Grípisspá 33). (“she’ll offer you the bright-haired girl, her daughter, she’ll play a trick on the prince” [Larrington Edda 147].) 3) "Þik mun Grímhildr gorva véla, mun hon Brynhildar biðia fýsa Gunnari til handa” (Grípisspá 35) (“Grimhild will thoroughly deceive you, she’ll urge you to woo Brynhild for Gunnar” [Larrington Edda 147].) 4) “vilda ec eigi vélom beita iǫfra brúði, er ec œzta veitc" (Grípisspá 40). (“I should not wish to entrap with cunning the noble bride whom I know to be the best” [Larrington Edda 148].) 5) “enn Brynhildr þicciz, brúðr, vargefin, snót fiðr vélar sér at hefndom" (Grípisspá 45). (“and Brynhild the bride will think herself disparaged, the lady will find means to get her revenge” [Larrington Edda 149].) 6) "Hvat mun at bótom brúðr sú taca, er vélar vér vífi gerðom?” (Grípisspá 46) (“What compensation will that bride accept when we’ve woven for her such deceit?” [Larrington Edda 149].) 7) “viðr þú góðri grand aldregi, þó ér víf konungs vélom beittoð" (Grípisspá 49) (“Never will you harm the good lady, though the king’s wife plots treachery against you” [Larrington Edda 149].) 72

other individuals were aware of future betrayals as a reason why the other individuals are even more guilty of betrayal. For example, after Gudrun informs Brynhild that Sigurd was the man who actually won Brynhild’s hand and should have been her husband, Brynhild exclaims, "Ekki höfum vér launmæli haft, ok þó höfum vit eiða svarit, ok vissu þér þat, at þér véltuð mik, ok þess skal hefna" (Völsunga Saga 148.18-20).60 In the Völsunga Saga, in fact, Brynhild herself informs

Gudrun that Sigurd has sworn vows to her before Gudrun marries him. In this version of the story, Brynhild also informs Gudrun that in the future Gudrun will betray Brynhild (Völsunga

Saga 138-41). Despite Gudrun’s knowledge of Brynhild’s conversations with Sigurd, she marries him anyway, even though she is aware of his previous vows to Brynhild. Brynhild’s belief that in the future Gudrun will betray her has come true. Gudrun deliberately makes herself a betrayer, as it is her knowledge of the future, as well as her knowledge of Sigurd’s previous engagement, that makes her guilty of betrayal. If she had not known about Sigurd’s engagement to another, she would be guiltless in the matter.

Part of the lack of reaction to warnings of imminent betrayals is, as previously mentioned, due to the Norse perception of honour, under which more dangerous situations (such as being aware of deception and continuing with a previous plan) provide more valuable opportunities to gain honour (Andersson 40). However, in order to understand fully this perception of betrayal, it is necessary to examine the Norse perception of fate, which provides another angle from which to observe the Norse concept of betrayal.

Gildersleeve observes that in the poems of the Edda, Brynhild seems to believe that no one involved was entirely guilty in the act of betraying her, as they were guided by fate and had

60 “Our talk was not secret and yet we had sworn oaths. You knew that you were betraying me. And that betrayal I shall avenge” (Byock Saga 83). 73

no choice (16). Hollander thinks that Brynhild presents “an utterly pessimistic view of life”

(Notes 167), and that Brynhild in her ride to Hel seems to be extremely bitter (166), but according to the perception of fate held by the Norse, she is likely right that fate guided her betrayers. In the Norse belief system, the future could not change. A person was born to a certain fate (Morris 25), woven at the person’s birth by the Norns, three women who represent the Past,

Present, and Future. This fate was unalterable. In fact, the name of the Norn who represents the

Future was Skuld, a word which “connotes obligation more strongly than choice” (Jochens 40).

The events destined for this future by necessity must occur. Even the gods are not powerful enough to change their fates. Despite Odin’s power, he still needs to ask a seeress for the exact outline of things to come (Völuspá). At the end of the world, the gods will all go to their deaths.

Odin will fight the giant wolf Fenris and will fall (Völuspá 53). Thor will slay the World Serpent, but in doing so will be slain (Völuspá 55-56). The world will end. These events, too, are unavoidable. Fate is a power even greater than the gods, a power which controls all of them.

All of these factors mean that when heroes hear of their fates, they have no concern for trying to change the future, because they believe it is impossible. The best that they can hope for is that they perform glorious deeds before they perish. For the heroes, it is better to die nobly than live ignobly (Gilbert 8). Such a death was not necessarily a punishment for heroes, for if they died nobly enough, after their deaths Odin would take them to Valhalla (Schjødt 149-50).

3.5 Conclusion

Among human influences, gender and levels of kinship ties (which determines the distance from a core family group) are the most important factors in determining who will betray and who will talk about betrayal. Yet one of the most important aspects of betrayal is that in the tales of Sigurd and his family, it will happen no matter what human or divine influences are

brought to bear on it – fate is the key determination of what will happen to a person, and fate frequently uses betrayal as a tool to bring about a person’s fall from fortune.

Chapter Four: Comparative Analysis

4.1 Introduction

While the basic definition of betrayal proposed by Whisman and Wagers – a “violation… of expectations” – applies in both the myths of the Völsungs and those featuring the House of

Atreus, the type of expectations violated, and the consequences of these violations, change depending on culture. It is easiest to examine the similarities and differences between the two mythological arcs by splitting a betrayal situation into three sections: the antecedents of the betrayal act, the betrayal act itself, and the consequences of the betrayal act.

4.2 Betrayal Antecedents

4.2.1 Introduction

The arguments by Baxter et al., and Elangovan and Shapiro, that people do not commit betrayals as impulse decisions, but rather weigh the benefits to themselves before acting out a betrayal, hold true in both the plays of Euripides and the stories of the Völsungs. The figures in both sets of works show patterns in the choices leading up to their betrayal acts that can be used to examine what the weakest bonds were (in the estimation of the respective texts) in the societies in which the texts were produced and transcribed. As my chosen examples are multigenerational stories, many of these patterns in betrayals revolve around the construction of the family unit in the Greek and Norse societies. Due to the severely gendered nature of family roles in both mythological arcs, it is easiest to discuss the antecedents of betrayal for each gender separately.

4.2.2 Betrayal Antecedents in Women

Both sets of texts show a preponderance of preference for natal bonds by women. If a woman is put in a position where she is forced to choose between the family she is related to by

blood and people outside of this natal family, she will usually choose her natal family. Some key examples of this are Iphigenia, in both Iphigenia at Aulis and Iphigenia in Tauris, and Sigurd’s aunt Signy.

In Euripides’ Iphigenia in Tauris, Iphigenia, whisked away by Artemis to Tauris, seems to have made an excellent impression on the Taurians. She is beloved by the people and trusted by the king to help carry out essential ritual human sacrifices (35-41). King Thoas exclaims, “ὡς

εἰκότως σε πᾶσα θαυµάζει πόλις” (1214).61 Yet when Iphigenia meets her brother Orestes, who has chanced upon the location and is to be sacrificed, she has no hesitation in betraying the

Taurians, saving her brother and running away with him back to Greece (769-1006).

In a similar choice of natal bonds over other bonds, the Norse Signy chooses to betray her husband to assist her brother. In order to help Sigmund kill her husband, to avenge past wrongs,

Signy even goes so far as to encourage her brother to kill her children after they learn too much of Sigmund’s plans, as she does not trust the children not to alert their father to the danger he is in. Jamison suggests that the position of a woman in her husband’s household in Norse society could be similar to that of an ambassador (24). A woman was expected to balance her love for her natal family with her new respect for her husband and his family. However, when a woman chose one family or the other, due to her vital role as the connector between the two families she could cause severe damage to the relations between the two households. If her marriage did not improve relations between natal and marital kin and she chose her natal family (as frequently happened), murdering the children born from her relations with her husband was a way to clearly sever the bonds between the families (Rosenthal 139-41). The next generation was supposed to

61 “It is not surprising that the whole city admires you” (Euripides Iphigenia among the Taurians 1214). 77

be the generation possessing the strongest bonds of loyalty to both families, as they were genetically related to both. By killing these children, a mother was making clear that there was no chance of any ties existing between the families in the future.

This preference for natal kin ties well into Elangovan and Shapiro’s theory of betrayal as the choice of whichever loyalty benefits a person most in a particular situation. Natal kin were often the ones who could offer more to women than other bonds they might have. In the heavily militaristic worlds of the ancient Greeks and the Norse, members of a woman’s natal family were often the ones willing to and capable of providing her with protection (Larrington “Sibling

Drama” 171-72, Rosenthal 139, Ingalls 250, Hunter 293).

For example, in Euripides’ Iphigenia at Aulis, Clytemnestra describes how Agamemnon originally forced her into marriage with him, after killing her previous husband. It is her two brothers, Castor and Pollux, who rescue her from him, although her father eventually accepts

Agamemnon’s supplication and decides to allow Agamemnon to keep her as a wife (1148-54). A

Norse example of this natal protection occurs in the story of Brynhild. After the potion prevents

Sigurd from remembering her and he marries Gudrun, Brynhild wishes Gunnar to kill Sigurd for his betrayal. When Gunnar is unwilling to do so, Brynhild uses her natal family to persuade him, saying that she can return to her former home, leaving her husband and taking the wealth he gained when he married her, and promises that she will do so if Gunnar does not obey her

(Sigurðarqviða in Scamma). Brynhild declares:

Mun ec aptr fara, þars ec áðan varc,

með nábornom niðiom mínom;

þar mun ec sitia oc sofa lífi,

nema þú Sigurð svelta látir

oc iǫfurr ǫðrom œðri verðir (Sigurðarqviða in Scamma 11).62

She is capable of turning to her natal kin and knows they will shelter her if her husband is unwilling.

However, although the basic pattern for women’s acts of betrayal remains the same across both sets of texts, differences occur in how the texts perceive this preference for natal bonds. The plays of Euripides identify this as a threat to the social order when it threatens a woman’s bond with her husband, while the Norse texts treat it as the way a woman should behave – putting her brothers above her husband. A Greek woman is encouraged to support her natal family before marriage, but after marriage such familial bonds are shown as suspect. An example of this is the previously given story of Clytemnestra. Although her brothers rescue her from Agamemnon, her father recognizes the marital bond as being legitimate and is unwilling to interfere with it (Euripides Iphigenia at Aulis 1148-54). Similarly, the intrusion of Menelaus into his daughter Hermione’s marriage to Neoptolemus, in an attempt to keep her husband from leaving her for another woman (Andromache) is seen as overstepping his bounds. When

Menelaus attempts to have Andromache killed in Neoptolemus’ household, Peleus,

Neoptolemus’ grandfather and the acting head of the household while his grandson is elsewhere, asks Menelaus, “πῶς; ἦ τὸν ἀµὸν οἶκον οἰκήσεις µολὼν/ δεῦρ᾽; οὐχ ἅλις σοι τῶν κατὰ Σπάρτην

62 “I shall go back to where I was before, among my close relatives, my near-born kin; there I shall sit and sleep away my life, unless you manage to kill Sigurd and become superior to other lords” (Larrington Edda 183). 79

κρατεῖν;” (581-82).63 Despite his intention being to safeguard his daughter, Menelaus’ actions are inappropriate in the context of his society. One interesting exception to the lack of encouragement of natal kin to interfere with a woman’s marital family in the plays of Euripides is that of Helen. At the end of Euripides’ Orestes, Helen is saved from death by Apollo. It is lucky for Helen that her kin are gods and that she is therefore exempt from most rules laid down for mortals. Despite her betrayal, Apollo explains that he acts on Zeus’s orders, saying, “Ζηνὸς

γὰρ οὖσαν ζῆν νιν ἄφθιτον χρεών,/ Κάστορί τε Πολυδεύκει τ᾽ ἐν αἰθέρος πτυχαῖς/ σύνθακος

ἔσται, ναυτίλοις σωτήριος” (1635-37).64 Helen’s natal kinsmen are not discouraged from helping

Helen, but they are also gods.

In contrast to the majority of examples from Euripides, when Sigurd’s wife Gudrun, remarried after Sigurd’s death, betrays Atli, the text supports her. She betrays her husband by taking up a sword against him alongside her brothers after her husband attempts to kill them, and the text claims, “Þjǫrco þar gorðo, þeiri var við brugðit,/ þat brá of alt annat, er unno born Giúca”

(Atlamál in Grœnlenzco 52)65 and praises Gudrun’s courage (50-51).

It is only when choosing natal family members is no longer a viable choice that women turn to other people – typically outsiders – sometimes leading to the betrayal of their husbands.

Due to the discouragement of involvement by natal kin in a Greek woman’s life after she is married, women in the plays of Euripides tend to find themselves in situations where their husband treats them badly and there is no legitimate form of protection that they can claim. In

63 “What? Will you come here and run my household? Is it not enough to lord it over Sparta?” (Euripides Andromache 581-82). 64 “For she is Zeus’s daughter and so must live an imperishable life, and with Castor and Polydeuces in heaven’s recesses she will be enthroned as a savior to seafarers” (Euripides Orestes 1635-37). 65 “A battle came about there that was famous far and wide; that surpassed all others, what the children of Giuki achieved” (Larrington Edda 225). 80

such circumstances, they tend to turn to enemies of their husband as the best refuge, betraying their husband for a new bond with his enemy. Perhaps the most famous example of this in the plays I am examining is Agamemnon’s wife Clytemnestra. Upon her husband’s return from

Troy, Clytemnestra feels as though her position in Agamemnon’s household is in danger, due to

Agamemnon’s interest in the slave girl Cassandra (1030-38). At least partially to protect herself,

Clytemnestra, who has seen Agamemnon betray his own daughter by giving her in sacrifice and knows what he is capable of towards his female family members, chooses to betray Agamemnon before he can betray her; she starts an affair with Aegisthus, a distant relative and rival of

Agamemnon. She and her new lover kill Agamemnon, ensuring Clytemnestra’s continued place of prominence in the household (1011-50). As there is further involvement of the natal family in the life of a married woman in Norse mythology, there are not many examples of marital betrayal in the tales of Sigurd that do not involve a woman choosing natal kin above her husband.

In myth, then, the choices in betrayal acts enacted by women suggest that Greek women were supposed to be more under the control of their marital kin than Norse women, who seem expected to retain stronger ties to their natal kin upon marriage. The plays of Euripides always point towards a clear tension between a woman’s natal and marital bonds. Dodson-Robinson maintains that “When a woman married, she passed from her paternal οἶκος (household) to that of the groom” (10). He explains that a woman in this position is disconnected from her parents’ household. Hunter contrasts this, explaining that when a Greek woman was widowed, she returned to her natal kin and that she could maintain strong ties with her natal kin (298). Lyons suggests that women were expected to be possessions of their husband’s family but were never entirely counted as fully switching their loyalties from their natal family (127). The studied texts

suggest that this last perspective may encompass the feelings Athenians had. Women were expected to be loyal to their marital family first, but the truth was that they often remained strongly tied to their natal family – a fact which the plays suggest was not encouraged in

Athenian society.

In contrast, Karras, speaking of the Norse texts, suggests that having women “choose their brothers over their sons […] is an indication that the Icelanders imagined a past in which a woman's ties to her natal family remained paramount.” She raises the interesting point that one reason Norse women may have more freedom in texts than their Greek counterparts is because there are still many instances of uxorilocal marriages in the texts. An uxorilocal marriage is one in which the husband comes to live with his wife’s natal family, rather than the other way. This means that the woman’s male natal relatives are more readily available to support their sister against her husband, providing her with more power than she would have in a virilocal arrangement, where she goes to live with her husband’s natal kin.

There are a few conclusions that could be drawn from this information. This pattern of betrayal may support the viewpoint of Knight, who argues that human kinship was originally matrilineal (81-82). By this he means a society where women remained in the power of their natal family, particularly that of their brothers, rather than undergoing a marriage ceremony and passing into the control of a marital family. Certainly the pattern of expected betrayal in such a society matches the pattern of betrayal in both sets of texts studied here. One would expect a woman in a matrilineal society to betray her natal kin last, as they would be her main source of protection. Thus, the pattern of betrayal found in both sets of texts may indicate an underlying pattern of betrayal surviving from some ancestor culture that was matrilineal. Rosenthal, too, notes that many of the forms of independence women had in Norse texts may be remnants of a

matrilineal society. He believes that this would also explain why children were expected to remain neutral in conflicts between their mothers’ natal families and their fathers’ families – a sign that they are not fully a part of their fathers’ families at the expense of their mothers’ (140).

In addition, Parkes explains the theory that many Greek myths demonstrate strong uterine filiation, where a man’s heir is his sister’s son (594-95). This is a common factor in matrilineal societies, where the women remain in the power of their male natal family members and any children these women have are also considered members of the natal family, while children of male family members belong to the natal family of the women who bore the children (Knight

66).

This pattern of betrayal may also support Larrington, who argues that for those with siblings, the sibling bond is one of the first formed in a human’s lifetime. The sibling is “the first person to whom the child relates as a social being” (171) and thus “profound feelings of loyalty often exist between brother and sister which the marriage of the sister does nothing to alter”

(172).

4.2.3 Betrayal Antecedents in Men

There is an even greater difference as to whom men in each set of texts choose to betray in a loyalty conflict. In the plays of Euripides, age and gender have a greater effect than type of relatedness on whom men will choose in a conflict of loyalties. They will usually choose an older male relative, whether natal or marital, over female relatives or younger male relatives, even if these relatives are more closely related. There is also a constant tension between the choices an individual would like to make in a situation and the demands placed upon them by the collective. Some examples of men who betray in this manner include Agamemnon, Orestes, and

Menelaus.

After Artemis demands the sacrifice of Agamemnon’s daughter, he has to choose between his loyalty to his brother and his loyalty to his child (Iphigenia at Aulis 80-114). In this case, both of Agamemnon’s options involve the betrayal of a trust placed on him by a blood relative. However, he chooses to sacrifice his daughter and honour his promise to his brother, who is both older and male. Yet in this case, Agamemnon’s reasoning is interesting. He cries, “οἳ

τὰς ἐν Ἄργει παρθένους κτενοῦσί µου/ ὑµᾶς τε κἀµέ, θέσφατ᾽ εἰ λύσω θεᾶς” (1267-68).66 The collective has a vested interest in this decision, and their vested interest goes against the best interests of the female and decides in the interests of the male majority.

Orestes chooses to honour his loyalty to his dead father (his male relative) above that to his living mother (his female relative) when he kills Clytemnestra (1139-1176). By acting in this manner, he prioritizes the male side of his family over the female. However, in a move that proves to be his undoing, he does not take into account the desires of his older living male relative – Clytemnestra’s father – who then possesses the power to make life difficult for

Orestes. In contrast, Menelaus chooses to give his loyalty to Tyndareus instead of Orestes, despite the fact that Orestes is a blood relative (his brother’s son) and Tyndareus is a marital relative (380-728). In both cases, older male relatives are favoured over women and younger male relatives – even if the younger males are more closely related.

Such betrayal choices use the values of the society, such as the lack of political power possessed by women and the importance of the collective, to choose the bonds least important in a person’s life, in order to benefit the betrayer. In this case, although his plays are ostensibly set in mythic times, Euripides is writing for an Athenian audience in the 5th century BC. The

66 “The Greeks will kill my girls in Argos and the two of you and me if I make void the goddess’ oracle” (Euripides Iphigenia at Aulis 1267-68). 84

Athenian society of the time was, vitally, a democracy, and had a centralized justice system that dealt with disturbances to civil order (Bergh 291, Balot 56, 80). In such a society, the will of the people, the decision of the collective, understandably played a large role in determining the actions of the individual. Balot notes “the Athenians publicly constructed a particular image of themselves as oriented toward the welfare of the community above all else” (57). No matter how accurate this actually was for particular individuals, this was the expectation. These collective decisions were made in the Assembly. This system made favouring older male relatives logical for Euripides’ audience, as male citizens were the only ones who participated in politics (Bergh

293). Older males would have built up a larger network to assist them in influencing the public opinion that was crucial for any major decisions. Hunter alludes to this in her discussion of the place of widows in Athens, mentioning that a widow whose only family was a young son was particularly vulnerable, as “[t]he youth of her son meant he would have little power and almost no influence in a society where networks counted” (299). In contrast, favouring females did not make sense, as they had little decision making power. Women had no formal political power

(Bergh 293).

In contrast, in the tales of Sigurd, men tend to betray kin related through marriage before they will betray natal family, male or female. Often such choices involve favouring relatives related through sibling bonds. They betray frequently to acquire goods. Some examples that demonstrate these elements include situations involving Högni and Atli.

Atli decides to destroy the brothers of his wife Gudrun. When asked why he would behave in such a way, he declares that “firðan mic frœndom, fé opt svikinn;/

sendoð systr Helio, slícs ec mest kennomc” (Atlamál in Grœnlenzco 56).67 His sister’s death is his prime motivation. He would rather betray his new in-laws than betray the sister they let die.

Similarly, Högni chooses to assist his brother Gunnar in plotting Sigurd’s death, even though Sigurd is Gudrun’s husband, and thus their relative. This is a particularly striking example of conflicting loyalties, as Högni has severe doubts about the wisdom of his brother’s actions. He questions Gunnar, saying, “"Samir eigi ocr slíct at vinna,/ sverði rofna svarna eiða,/ eiða svarna, unnar trygðir” (Sigurðarqviða in Scamma 17).68 However, despite the fact that

Gunnar fails to allay Högni’s concerns, once Högni has realized just how determined Gunnar is to go through with his plan to kill Sigurd, Högni chooses to act alongside his brother, actively aligning himself with Gunnar, rather than engaging in any of the other options, such as warning

Sigurd, that he possesses. He makes a clear choice between natal and marital connections, and natal connections are given precedence (16-22).

As well, several of these Norse betrayals are motivated by greed. As mentioned, Atli declares that he has been swindled of property, while Gunnar desires Brynhild to remain with him partially because of her fortune. One of the ways in which Gunnar persuades his brother

Guthorm to kill Sigurd is by offering him wealth (Sigurðarqviða in Scamma 20). This is similar to the way people behave in the plays of Euripides, but expressed in a very different manner. In both mythic cycles, power, which is partially determined by wealth, drives betrayal acts. It is clear that such a character as Menelaus is just as interested in wealth as Gunnar or Atli.

Kyriakou suggests that one advantage Menelaus would gain from Orestes’ death is that he would

67 “[Y]ou’ve deprived me of kinsmen, swindled me of property,/ you sent my sister off to hell, that is what matters most to me” (Larrington Edda 225). 68 “It is not fitting for us to do this,/ cutting asunder with a sword/ the oaths we’ve sworn, the pledges made” (Larrington Edda 184). 86

then become leader of Argos in place of his nephew (“Menelaus” 300-01). He simply needs to take others’ wealth in a different way than Gunnar or Atli.

There are many factors that likely make betraying extended family the preferable choice in the story of the Völsungs. As previously noted, Gíslason explains that there was no strong central judiciary system in the time when these stories were first created (14-15). Although such a system slowly developed, it was not strong. Thus, people relied on family to defend them from outside threats. Blood feuds were common and societally sanctioned. Byock observes that

Iceland organized “its judicial apparatus […] to assist and expedite the resolution of the feud”

(Feud 27). Rather than attempting to eradicate the blood feud, it was merely expected to follow certain societal regulations. This led to a situation where a person’s closest family ties were valued above all else (as they were the primary assistants in such feuds), and extended family could just as easily be proven to be enemies. As women could hold significant power through their roles as peace pledges (Jamison 24), and most often favoured their natal kin, it makes sense that men would attempt to protect their female family members related by blood as well as their male kin, as these women could be useful to them. In contrast, in-laws were dangerous, as they would typically have a stronger loyalty to their own blood relatives.

4.2.4 Conclusion

In both the plays of Euripides and the tales of Sigurd, people choose to betray the individuals who can be of least help to them. For women, this usually involves choosing loyalty to their natal family over all others, as their natal family is usually the entity most willing to protect these women. However, in Euripides’ plays, sometimes this option is unavailable due to a greater lack of involvement of natal kin in a married woman’s life. In this case, if her marriage becomes untenable, she often chooses to betray her husband with his enemy. For men, this

involves vastly different choices depending in which mythic cycle the men appear. In Euripides, men choose their older male relatives (either natal or marital) above younger or female family members, while in the myths of Sigurd, men often choose goods over people, and tend to favour natal kin, male or female, above family related through marriage.

4.3 The Betrayal Act

The actual betrayal act takes up quite a small portion of the betrayal situation. Both the deliberations leading up to a betrayal and the consequences after the betrayal act can be far lengthier procedures. However, it is quite important to speak of how exactly people go about betraying, as after the moment of the betrayal act a return to the status quo is impossible. So, when people have finally decided to betray, and chosen for which of their compatriots their bonds and affections are slightest, what sorts of acts do people commit that constitute betrayal?

Although there are several similarities, the answer to this question is significantly different in the plays of Euripides and the tales of the Völsungs.

The two most common types of betrayal acts in both mythic cycles are sexual betrayals and hostile betrayals. Sexual betrayals are those that involve two people involved in a sexual relationship, one of whom engages in sexual activities with a third person without the consent or knowledge of the other original party. An example of this would be Clytemnestra’s initial adulterous relationship with Aegisthus, which took place without her husband’s knowledge.

Hostile betrayals are those where the action or inaction of one person leads to physical harm to another. One example is Atli’s betrayal of Gudrun’s brothers when he invites them to a feast but truly plans on killing them. Although both sorts of betrayal feature to some degree in both mythic arcs, each arc tends more heavily towards one or the other of these two betrayal types.

Euripides’ plays involve a great deal of focus on sexual betrayals. This is the most frequently cited type of betrayal in his extant works, to the extent that even other forms of betrayal are described as being rooted in an earlier sexual betrayal. For example, when

Clytemnestra is describing her anger at Agamemnon for killing Iphigenia, she blames the actions on Helen’s original betrayal of running to Troy with Paris (1024-29) stating, “νῦν δ᾽ οὕνεχ᾽

Ἑλένη µάργος ἦν ὅ τ᾽ αὖ λαβὼν/ ἄλοχον κολάζειν προδότιν οὐκ ἠπίστατο,/ τούτων ἕκατι παῖδ᾽

ἐµὴν διώλεσεν” (1027-29).69 This is not an infrequent occurrence. In contrast, the tales of the

Völsungs rarely focus on sexual betrayal, tending more towards hostile betrayals, with even sexual betrayals often occurring for the purpose of hostile betrayals. For example, when Signy sleeps with her brother in order to father a child, betraying her husband sexually through her infidelity, the cause of her action is not sexual, but hostile. She wishes to further her plans of vengeance by creating a child born of two Völsungs who will thus be more sympathetic to her brother’s quest for revenge than her previous children fathered by her enemy (Völsunga Saga 94-

95). While sexuality appears to be at the root of betrayal situations in Euripides, violence is at the root of betrayals in the tales of the Völsungs.

It is likely that this difference in betrayal focus between the cultures is the predictable result of the aforementioned marital and natal family tensions and political climate in each culture. It has been discussed that women in Greece in the time of Euripides seem expected to have stronger ties with their marital kin than their natal kin. Despite factors that allowed this expectation occasionally to be undercut in actuality, society expected a wife’s loyalty to her husband. An important part of this loyalty was sexual loyalty. Lyons observes that there was a

69 “But as it is, he killed her only because Helen was a whore and the man who married her did not know how to chastise the wife who betrayed him” (Euripides Electra 1027-29). 89

great deal of anxiety in Greek marriages because in order to succeed they required women to be passive objects of exchange, who did not express their agency and continue to exchange themselves with other men after marriage (95). Lyons continues, suggesting that “In a society that reckons descent through the male line, it is of the utmost importance that heirs be the legitimate sons of their mother’s husband. By taking a lover, a woman risks interfering with succession, potentially transferring her husband’s goods to the descendant of another lineage”

(103). Women are never really thought to leave the family of their natal kin, but are also viewed as possessions by their husbands. They are possessions that can never fully be possessed, and are thus dangerous – eternal outsiders necessary for the survival of the family (127). Hostile betrayals are of less importance due to the centralized judicial system that can regulate occurrences of violence.

In contrast, due to a strong connection between a woman and her natal family being societally sanctioned and expected in Norse culture, sexual betrayals are of less importance, as they do not interfere with this primary relationship. No matter who the father of a woman’s child is, it does not affect inheritance patterns for the woman’s brothers, who are expected to be the woman’s primary male contact. Norse women are not thought of as quite as dangerous as women in Greece because they are never expected to assimilate to their husbands’ families and be their possessions. It is always very clear that they still belong to their natal family and owe that family their loyalty. This makes their behaviour more predictable and less threatening than that of Greek women. This is clear in the language of the texts. Women are always viewed from the perspective that they are sisters and daughters. What would be more dangerous in a society of this kind would be the dissolution of the in-law relationship – a dissolution often caused by

hostile betrayal – as this could lead to a blood feud that would drain the resources of both families.

Even when the type of betrayal act engaged in is the same, each culture has a completely different conception of betrayal that transforms a similar action into an act holding quite different meanings. This can occur with both sexual and hostile betrayals. As previously determined, betrayal in Euripides is generally synonymous with movement – in general movement that involves some form of abandonment. In contrast, in the Norse tales of Sigurd and his family, betrayal is frequently defined as withholding essential information. These definitions inform the way betrayal acts are perceived in each society. For example, when Brynhild learns that Sigurd was supposed to have been her husband but he married another woman instead of her, it is not the sexual nature of Sigurd’s relationship with Gudrun that upsets her, but the fact that knowledge of their past was concealed from Brynhild (Helreið Brynhildar 13). Similarly, acts of hostile betrayal are also described in terms that condemn their secrecy – the knowledge they withhold. For example, when Gudrun’s brothers welcome representatives from Atli come to invite them to the feast where he intends to kill them, the text describes that “Ǫlværir urðo oc elda kyndo,/ hugðo vætr véla, er þeir vóro komnir” (Atlamál in Grœnlenzco 5).70 It is the lack of knowledge on which the text dwells. It is the lack of knowledge through deceit that will lead

Gudrun’s family to tragedy.

Conversely, when Clytemnestra describes her husband’s relationship with Cassandra, which she feels to be a betrayal, she says, “ἀλλ᾽ ἦλθ᾽ ἔχων µοι µαινάδ᾽ ἔνθεον κόρην/ λέκτροις

τ᾽ ἐπεισέφρηκε, καὶ νύµφα δύο/ ἐν τοῖσιν αὐτοῖς δώµασιν κατείχοµεν” (Euripides Electra 1032-

70 “They were most welcoming, stoked up the fires, they perceived no treachery in those who had come” (Larrington Edda 218). 91

34).71 There is no concealment in Agamemnon’s relationship. Clytemnestra is acutely aware of it. Rather, it is the sense of abandonment that Clytemnestra feels that motivates her later betrayals. Similarly, when Menelaus betrays Orestes and refuses to speak for him before the assembly, it is the abandonment that Orestes focuses on, crying, “ὦ κάκιστε τιµωρεῖν φίλοις,/

φεύγεις ἀποστραφείς µε, τὰ δ᾽ Ἀγαµέµνονος/ φροῦδ᾽;”72 (Orestes 718-21).

Whatever the type of betrayal performed, the completion of a betrayal act leads to a period of uncertainty. The previous situation has been irreversibly altered, and the participants in the act find themselves in a slowly shaping new world where what was once thought to be true – the loyalty of the betrayer – has been proven false. This uncertainty and twisting of the expected creates a liminal space within which rules are unclear. The only way to set the world right is through a renewed determination by society as to what the society values. Such betrayals are instances where change could occur. By clearing a betrayer of guilt, a society could alter its own definition of betrayal in these instances. However, by punishing the betrayer, the old order is restored and everything set aright.

4.4 Consequences of Betrayal

4.4.1 Introduction

The fallout from a betrayal act presents one of the most significant ways in which the concept of betrayal differs in the tales of Völsung and his descendants and those of the House of

Atreus. To summarize what I have previously detailed, studies on betrayal in modern Western cultures indicate that betrayal has a huge effect on those betrayed, and betrayal can cause pain to

71 But he came home with the god-possessed seer girl and installed her in his bed and meant to keep two women at the same time in the same house” (Euripides Electra 1032-34). 72 “[A]re you turning away from me and running? Have Agamemnon’s favors to you vanished?” (Euripides Orestes 718-21). 92

those betrayed, pain including but not limited to low self-esteem, emotional distress, obsession with the betrayal act, and PTSD-like symptoms (Rachman 306, 310; Aimone and Houser 574).

Since the betrayed is in pain, the betrayed tends to want to hurt the betrayer, in an attempt to restore a sense of equality to the relationship (Grégoire et al. 30, Grégoire and Fisher 248).

The level of the betrayal act and the former closeness of the relationship often determine the level of aggressive response (Haden and Hojjat 112). Particularly close relationships that are betrayed demand that a greater level of pain be inflicted upon the betrayer. Not only the betrayed, but also other members of society punish betrayals more harshly than other crimes

(Aimone and Houser 575). Betrayal cannot be allowed to go unchecked, as it would set a dangerous precedent and possibly encourage more such acts, which would be ultimately destructive to a society.

In both the plays of Euripides and the Völsung poems of the Poetic Edda, these consequences of betrayal remain true. When an act is accepted as a betrayal, it is usually harshly punished – frequently with death. Yet while people are likely to assign a greater level of punishment to crimes featuring betrayal than those without, the way in which this punishment is assigned, and the type of punishment assigned, can differ greatly.

Analyzing individuals in our modern society, Hong and Bohnet write that betrayed individuals are more likely to forgive unintentional betrayals (Hong and Bohnet 200). In cases where there is no intent to betray, there is less of a desire to punish, and the level of punishment goes down. This tells us some very important things about betrayal in our society. A person’s guilt in a betrayal act is actually determined by two elements: whether they intended to betray

(intent) and whether they actually committed the act (responsibility). Punishment is linked to intent, as level of punishment fluctuates depending on level of intent. The more intent there is,

the more punishment there is, despite the responsibility remaining the same – a person either did or did not commit a betrayal act. This forms a gradient of punishments attached to a gradient of differing levels of intent, with responsibility as a constant. All people, male or female, supposedly have the same gradient applied to their actions. Neither mythological arc I am studying reflects this system, although the division of guilt in a betrayal act into two parts – intent and responsibility – remains. In both arcs, the consequences for a betrayal act differ depending on the gender of the betrayer.

4.4.2 Punishment for Men in the Tales of the Völsungs

In the stories featuring the Völsungs, as in our society, punishment, for a man, is attached to both intent (defined in the context of the Norse texts as a lack of knowledge, as if a person does not have the right information, that person cannot form intent to commit an act) and responsibility. However, there are two types of punishment. For responsibility, which, as in our society, is a constant (someone either committed an act of betrayal or not), the punishment is usually death. Intent commands a different form of punishment – societal blame. Those who commit their betrayals without intent – usually through ignorance of what their actions entail – are not blamed for their acts of betrayal. Those who intend to betray are blamed. Heroes such as

Sigurd the dragon slayer are often ignorant of their betrayals, and therefore society continues to honour them after their deaths. For example, Brynhild is initially enraged at Sigurd when she discovers she has been tricked into marrying Gunnar. While Brynhild is initially enraged, eventually she realizes what has occurred. Sigurd is not blamed for this action. In fact, Brynhild is so devastated by Sigurd’s death that she burns herself up alongside his dead body

(Sigurðarqviða in Scamma 65-71). However, Sigurd broke his promises and therefore he is murdered by his brother-in-law (a betrayal in itself), as he is responsible, if not deserving of

blame. In contrast, men who commit acts of betrayal with intent and forethought are punished for both intent and responsibility, and are generally the villains of the piece. One example of this is the dwarf Regin, who, despite the fact that he is Sigurd’s foster father (Larsen 73), intends to kill

Sigurd after making the young hero kill his brother Fafnir for him (Fáfnismál 1-22). Unlike

Sigurd, Regin is not acclaimed. He is described as a coward who hides in the heather (Fáfnismál

28) while Sigurd kills the dragon, rather than assisting the boy. He is described as “bölvasmiðr”

(Fáfnismál 33)73 for his desire to kill Sigurd. His betrayal has led to the destruction of his reputation. He is also responsible for deciding to kill Sigurd, and for this, Sigurd kills him.

4.4.3 Punishment for Women in the Tales of the Völsungs

Women are treated differently in the Norse texts. They are usually the holders of knowledge (see Friðriksdóttir 25-44, Morris 23, Jochens 114), who have an intent to betray, and are therefore blamed for their betrayal acts. Quite often they are the ones who have the knowledge the male heroes lack and need in order to avoid betrayal situations, and therefore women can also often be blamed for the heroes’ betrayal acts. One example of this is Sigurd’s aunt, Signy, who chooses to side with her brother (Sigurd’s father Sigmund) against Siggeir, her husband, who murdered her father. In order to produce a hero strong and capable enough to destroy her husband, she changes her shape to that of a different woman and sleeps with her brother – a violation both of her marital bond and of Sigmund’s bond as Siggeir’s brother-in-law

(Völsunga Saga 90-100). He cannot be blamed for this act, as he does not know the woman he slept with was his married sister, but she can – for her betrayal of her oaths to her husband, in her attempt to create a hero who can destroy Siggeir. Rather than acting as a mediator in her role as

73 “smith of evil” (Larrington Edda 163). 95

peace pledge, as it was hoped women would do, Signy plays an active role in attempting to destroy her husband and his family (Jamison 27).

Similar is the situation where Brynhild finally discovers the truth about her marriage to

Gunnar – that Sigurd should have been her husband. She blames Gudrun, who imparted this knowledge. However, it is not Gudrun’s action of marrying Sigurd that Brynhild counts as a betrayal. Rather, she suggests that Gudrun is a betrayer for knowing that Sigurd was supposed to be Brynhild’s husband and acting on that information anyway (Völsunga Saga 147-49). It is the knowledge that makes Gudrun culpable – the knowledge she possessed and the intent that she displayed in marrying Sigurd despite that knowledge.

However, while women are more easily blamed than men for intent, they usually do not receive punishment from society for their responsibility. In order for women to retain societal approval, due to the intent behind their actions, their only way to redeem themselves is to punish themselves for their actions. As established previously, after causing Sigurd’s death, Brynhild orders her own funeral pyre and burns herself to death alongside Siegfried’s body. Similarly,

Signy, after helping her brother destroy her husband, chooses not to leave her husband’s hall with her brother after they set it alight, but rather perishes with her husband’s body, saying,

“Hefi ek ok svá mikit til unnit, at fram kæmist hefndin, at mér er með engum kosti líft. Skal ek nú deyja með Siggeiri konungi lostig, er ek átta hann nauðig” (Völsunga Saga 99.25-29).74 Self- punishment for their responsibility is the only way the narrative can resolve the situation, and have the women, despite the blame they have been assigned, continue to win public praise.

74 “I have worked so hard to bring about vengeance that I am by no means fit to live. Willingly I shall now die with King Siggeir, although I married him reluctantly” (Byock Saga 47). 96

4.4.4 Punishment for Men in the Plays of Euripides

In the plays of Euripides, as in the Norse texts, punishment for a betrayal act is determined by both responsibility and intent. However, in the Greek texts, the idea of intent is based not on a lack of knowledge but on a lack of ability to choose anything other than betrayal.

For example, Orestes has very little choice but to kill his mother to avenge his father’s murder, as the god Apollo requires the action (Orestes 1625-72). As in our society, intent and responsibility are tied together into guilt, and this guilt (responsibility plus intent) needs to be proven, for both men and women, before punishment is assigned. Unlike in our society, this punishment is frequently death. For example, after Orestes murders his mother, he is forced to defend his actions in the court of public opinion. He claims that he had no choice, as his mother murdered his father, telling the assembly that if women are allowed to kill their husbands, all of the men there are in danger (931-42). By making both this argument and the argument that his actions were the god’s will, he attempts to avoid punishment. Unable to convince the assembly sufficiently, he is sentenced to death for his betrayal of the bonds of family. Only the appearance of the god Apollo himself at the end of the play, and his statement that “τὰ πρὸς πόλιν δὲ τῷδ᾽

ἐγὼ θήσω καλῶς,/ ὅς νιν φονεῦσαι µητέρ᾽ ἐξηνάγκασα” (1664-65)75 is considered by the collective to be sufficient proof of a lack of intent in Orestes’ betrayal, at which point his punishment is lessened.

4.4.5 Punishment for Women in the Plays of Euripides

While women are judged in Euripides by the same standard as the men, where intent and responsibility are joined and severity of punishment depends on the level of intent present in a

75 “This man’s relations with the city I shall set to rights, since it was I who compelled him to kill his mother” (Euripides Orestes 1664-65). 97

betrayal act, women are hampered by other factors. Åkerström argues that social rank is particularly important in betrayal acts, due to powerful people having powerful friends able to identify the person as not a betrayer (111). Those who are more advantaged are capable of telling their story to a broader audience, and often have the weight of their reputations behind them.

Women in the plays of Euripides are seldom able to speak in their own defence against betrayal charges, and usually only to their male family members when they do. For example, we only ever hear of Clytemnestra defending her actions to her daughter (as opposed to Orestes’ ability to address the assembly) (Electra 998-1138). Men are also able to accuse others of betrayal, leading to public blame for the accused. Women rarely do this in Euripides’ plays. In fact, the only woman to directly accuse a man of betrayal in any of Euripides’ plays is Medea (accusing Jason of leaving her for another woman) (Medea 606). The only other instance that even approaches this is Hecuba in the play Trojan Women pleading with Menelaus not to betray his allies by taking Helen back (1044-45). However, this is a supplication, not a statement blaming him for his actions. In contrast, men accuse other men of betrayal frequently – one example being

Orestes, when he accuses Menelaus of betraying him after Menelaus refuses to help him when he is in danger from the assembly after killing his mother (Orestes 717-28). This means that women are much more often found guilty of intent in their betrayal acts in Euripides’ plays76, as the ability to bring accusations of betrayal against others was very important in self-defence. Quite often the form of response to an accusation of betrayal was to accuse someone else of having actually been the betrayer, leaving the accused as merely a victim of circumstance, unable to choose otherwise.

76 Compare, for example, the negative opinion of Clytemnestra and Helen, compared with Orestes, who is given justification for his actions by the gods. 98

4.4.6 Conclusion

In both the Norse and Greek texts, blame is seen by the characters as the worst portion of punishment for betrayal. This is the punishment for betrayal that all characters attempt to avoid – which makes sense in cultures that valued honour to the extent both the Norse and the Greeks did. Being given the blame for a betrayal act decreased a person’s honour.

However, Euripides adds another layer to the idea of betrayal in his plays. So far I have discussed betrayal as the characters respond to it. Yet, as these plays were performed, there is also the intended perception of betrayal acts by the audience that must be considered.77 Many critics have argued that the majority of characters in the plays considered in my research are not supposed to be sympathetic. For just a few examples, McDonald sees Euripides’ plays as presenting a “vision of chaos” (72), Gallagher describes Euripides’ Electra as “out of touch with reality” (405), able to destroy her brother along with herself, and O’Brien declares that “None of

Euripides’ antagonists … is quite equal to his or her role in the legend” (“Orestes” 19). If this negative perception of the characters is accurate, perhaps audience members are not intended to believe the text when it does not blame certain figures, but rather attribute blame themselves.

One example where the audience may be supposed to blame even as the character escapes public blame is the previously cited case of Agamemnon in Iphigenia at Aulis. Agamemnon accepts that he must sacrifice his daughter. Publically, he does the correct thing in sacrificing his daughter. He receives no blame except from his wife, who is unable to sway public opinion

(1615-19). However, as previously established, the language of betrayal that he uses weakens his character and makes him unsympathetic. Agamemnon does not take responsibility for his actions

77 And, of course, it is important to remember that we are yet another layer of audience. 99

(1140). Throughout the entire play, critics notice that Agamemnon is irresolute (see for example

Schenker 649, Siegal Agamemnon 264-45), and note that Euripides’ plays may show that there is nothing under the heroic ideal of warfare except an awful death (Morwood 364). That the play allows Agamemnon to benefit from his actions may be more of a critique of the society where such an action could occur than a true presentation of betrayal in Greek society.

The main differences between the fall-out from betrayal events in the Poetic Edda and

Euripides’ plays are the definition of intent, with the Norse identifying it as knowledge of betrayal while Euripides presents the idea that betrayal without the ability to choose otherwise lacks intent, and the relationship in each set of texts between intent and responsibility. In the

Norse texts, responsibility is separate from intent, with each aspect of guilt having its own punishment, while in the plays of Euripides intent and responsibility are linked, and guilt is assigned after people have the chance to defend their actions. Adding another layer of complication to the plays of Euripides is the aspect of performance, which encourages the audience to blame certain characters even while the people in the play do not.

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Chapter Five: Conclusion

Although there are a number of similarities in how the plays of Euripides and the tales of the Völsungs conceptualize betrayal, there are a number of cultural differences that emerge when the topic is explored closely. The basic structure of a betrayal act involves a betrayer undermining the expectations of a betrayed. However, while this works as a structural definition of betrayal, it does not describe or define the cultural significance of the act. As betrayal is a social phenomenon, instances of its occurrence reveal a great deal about social factors important at the time of the betrayal act. Since betrayal involves the breaking of a social tie, betrayals reveal a great deal about the most vulnerable relationships in a society, as these are the relationships most readily destroyed by betrayals. Patterns found in the relationships in a culture can help to establish how the culture structured its relationships. In the case of these specific mythic arcs, the study of betrayal clearly demonstrates quite a different underlying notion of the family group. While the Norse stories depict the family group as central to all decisions and incorporate both men and women into this family group, the Greek plays of Euripides show a situation where the family group has been weakened by the development of a stronger central state. In this way, both sets of stories focus on the importance of a collective against all other groups, but the conception of this collective differs considerably. The Greek plays are complicated by smaller collectives – family groups – in the plays also having some importance, and competing against the interests of the larger group (the state). Thus, for example, Gudrun continues to support her family even after they bring about the death of her husband, Sigurd, while Agamemnon is put under pressure to betray his daughter and sacrifice her to match the desires of the larger societal group. However, it is impossible for groups as small as certain of the groups in the Norse and Greek texts to continue to thrive without occasional recourse to

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people on the outside. For example, a small group does not have a sustainable population – it will eventually either die out or be forced to resort to incest to maintain its numbers. It is impossible for such a group to continue without at times adding to its membership –whether these are full members or only partial members of the group. It is in the spaces where people from different groups meet, and where the boundaries of the collective are somewhat porous, that betrayal acts are most common. As an example, mates for the people inside a group often need to be obtained from outside the group (as Clytemnestra, Helen, Signy, and Gudrun are). While it is possible for a man to enter the household of his wife’s natal kin, as Sigurd does, more often this involves the transfer of a woman into another household, in an attempt to hold the two households together. However, this new binding of the two groups is a weak point where betrayal can flourish.

From this starting point, it is possible to develop a hierarchy of relationships in each culture studied. Those relationships closer to the bottom of this hierarchy are more likely to be betrayed, as betraying weaker bonds can be more advantageous to those betraying. For example, the plays of Euripides have foreigners near the bottom of their hierarchy of relationships, as seen, for example, in the lack of repercussions Iphigenia receives for betraying the Taurians. Women are also low on this hierarchy, while older male relatives are quite highly placed. For example,

Iphigenia is sacrificed by her father for the good of his brother and the male army, while

Menelaus chooses to betray his nephew Orestes in order to gain the favour of his father-in-law.

In the Norse tales of Sigurd, relationships with in-laws are particularly weak. This is aptly demonstrated by Sigurd’s death at the hands of his wife’s natal family.

The key point leading into a wider definition of betrayal is the idea that betrayal is a potential existing in places of societal weakness. The actual betrayal act is a survival mechanism

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for individuals, whereby individuals in a society can navigate the complexities of their cultural situations and make choices demonstrating their agency – however limited this may be. Betrayal is a self-serving process that can help ensure an individual has the best chance of survival and prosperity possible in a given situation. At the same time, betrayal acts allow individuals to develop a stronger sense of their individual or group identity through the rejection of people and cultural concepts of morality that do not benefit them. By choosing his wife’s natal family over his brother’s child, an act that is societally accepted, Menelaus benefits himself by strengthening his ties to his powerful mortal father-in-law78, while simultaneously his act publically declares what is important to him. Meanwhile, a character such as Regin rejects the bonds his society claims should be most important to him, betraying both his foster child and his brother for material profit. Again, this is a declaration of who he is as an individual and what is most important to him. In general in the mythic cycles examined, characters choose to reinforce their identities in a way that coincides with the values of their societies, with their choices of which loyalties to betray coinciding with those their cultures expect to be weaker ties. For example,

Gudrun’s decision to betray her husband Atli for the sake of her brothers coincides with the ideas about which relationships should be most important expressed in the law codes of her society.

However, it is certainly possible for individuals to choose to align themselves against the suggested hierarchy of relationships in their culture if they perceive such a choice would best benefit themselves. Such a case would be Clytemnestra’s murder of her husband.

Yet even as betrayal acts help to create and reinforce the identity that a person wishes to present to society, betrayal is an act that allows societal change, creating a liminal space wherein

78 Technically Helen is the daughter of Zeus, but Tyndareus takes on the role of father-in-law for all practical mortal purposes. 103

changes can be made to what a society perceives as the right and the wrong choice in a given situation. The societal collective can express its opinion of right and wrong through choice either to punish a betrayal act or to identify it as not a betrayal. In this way, the consequences of betrayal acts can also determine the publically sanctioned identity of the entire culture. For example, by choosing to punish Orestes for his murder of his mother, the assembly is choosing to consider the familial bond of a mother and son as important. This bond was already perceived as important, but this instance of the betrayal act destroying this bond allows the societal group to decide if this importance will continue to exist or whether, by judging Orestes’ actions not a betrayal, they will change the level of importance they place on this bond. Because the idea of betrayal exists, societies are able to choose what they consider important by meting out the consequences (or lack of consequences) for such betrayal acts. Although cultures usually favour the same values and relationships that they have in the past (as is the case in the example of

Orestes, where the societal group chooses to punish him for his murder of his mother), over time many instances of such betrayal may allow cultures to slowly change. By slowly changing the way they react to certain betrayal acts (and by prioritizing certain relationships), cultures can change their definition of betrayal to whatever is most helpful for their survival at the time. This allows the culture a greater chance of survival, as it can adapt to changing circumstances. The idea of betrayal is a valuable tool in this process.

While the conditions present in these two societies do not closely resemble those present in our own society, the study of betrayal in the context of mythic cycles can still reveal many things about betrayal in our modern societies. The idea of betrayal as a force of social change continues to be relevant in today’s societies. Although the factors that make a certain definition of betrayal useful for us are different than those found in the time these mythic cycles were

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written, such factors still exist. Factors in our modern world such as increased globalization, as just one example, could conceivably affect the definition of betrayal in our culture by introducing the value systems and relationship hierarchies of other societies, certain aspects of which may be absorbed into our own culture. The selection of sources discussed in the first chapter suggests that betrayal is still hugely prevalent in both marital and business relationships.

Modern factors will have changed the way these betrayals occur, though. For example, in both of the mythic cycles studied, gender roles are hugely important. Women in the plays of Euripides do not accuse men of betrayal to the same extent as men do. Clytemnestra, for example, attempts to blame Agamemnon’s actions on Helen’s betrayal of Menelaus. Meanwhile, Norse women frequently must persuade men to act on their behalf, as when Brynhild persuades her husband to kill Sigurd. However, due to changed, and ever changing, attitudes towards gender, at least in

Western societies, such a gendered view of betrayal language may not be quite so relevant anymore, or may have changed. As well, due to populations that increasingly do not live near extended family because work opportunities take them elsewhere, the conception of the family and of what bonds are culturally expected to be closest may be drastically different. By assessing which mythological betrayal acts are understandable to us and which seem alien, we can determine our culture’s hierarchy of betrayal acts, and through this approach an understanding of what relationships our culture chooses to perceive as valuable and what relationships it chooses to discard.

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Appendix A: Greek Words for Betrayal

A.1 Alcestis

Example a.

Θεράπαινα

οὐ γὰρ ἐχθαίρω σ᾽: ἀπώλεσας δέ µε

µόνον: προδοῦναι γάρ σ᾽ ὀκνοῦσα καὶ πόσιν

θνῄσκω (179-81).

Serving woman (quoting Alcestis)

I do not hate you, although it is you alone that cause my death: it is because I shrank from abandoning you and my husband that I now die (Euripides Alcestis 179-81).

Example b.

Θεράπαινα

κλαίει γ᾽ ἄκοιτιν ἐν χεροῖν φίλην ἔχων,

καὶ µὴ προδοῦναι λίσσεται, τἀµήχανα

ζητῶν: φθίνει γὰρ καὶ µαραίνεται νόσῳ (201-03).

Serving woman

Yes, he weeps, holding his beloved wife in his arms, and he begs her not to abandon him, asking for the impossible. For she is waning and wasting with her malady (Euripides Alcestis 201-03).

Example c.

Ἄδµητος

ἔπαιρε σαυτήν, ὦ τάλαινα, µὴ προδῷς:

λίσσου δὲ τοὺς κρατοῦντας οἰκτῖραι θεούς (250-51).

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Admetus

Rouse yourself up, poor woman, do not abandon me. Pray for pity to the gods who have you in their grasp (Euripides Alcestis 250-51).

Example d.

Ἄδµητος

µὴ πρός σε θεῶν τλῇς µε προδοῦναι,

µὴ πρὸς παίδων οὓς ὀρφανιεῖς,

ἀλλ᾽ ἄνα, τόλµα (275-77).

Admetus

I beg you by the gods, by the children you will orphan, do not have the hardness to desert me.

Up, endure! (Euripides Alcestis 275-77).

Example e.

Ἄλκηστις

καίτοι σ᾽ ὁ φύσας χἠ τεκοῦσα προύδοσαν,

καλῶς µὲν αὐτοῖς †κατθανεῖν ἧκον† βίου,

καλῶς δὲ σῶσαι παῖδα κεὐκλεῶς θανεῖν (290-92).

Alcestis

Yet your father and mother abandoned you, though it well befitted them to be surfeited with life and well befitted them to save their son and die a noble death (Euripides Alcestis 290-92).

Example f.

Ἄδµητος

οὐ µὴν ἐρεῖς γέ µ᾽ ὡς ἀτιµάζοντα σὸν

γῆρας θανεῖν προύδωκας, ὅστις αἰδόφρων

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πρὸς σ᾽ ἦ µάλιστα: κἀντὶ τῶνδέ µοι χάριν

τοιάνδε καὶ σὺ χἠ τεκοῦσ᾽ ἠλλαξάτην (658-61).

Admetus

Surely you cannot say that you abandoned me to death because I dishonored you in your old age, for I have always shown you every respect (Euripides Alcestis 658-61).

Example g.

Ἄδµητος

διπλῆν φοβοῦµαι µέµψιν, ἔκ τε δηµοτῶν,

µή τίς µ᾽ ἐλέγξῃ τὴν ἐµὴν εὐεργέτιν

προδόντ᾽ ἐν ἄλλης δεµνίοις πίτνειν νέας (1057-59)

Admetus

I fear a double reproach: from my people, lest someone should cast in my teeth that betraying the memory of her who saved me I fall into the bed of another woman (Euripides Alcestis 1057-

59).

Example h.

Ἄδµητος

θάνοιµ᾽ ἐκείνην καίπερ οὐκ οὖσαν προδούς (1096).

Admetus

May I die if ever I betray her, even though she is gone! (Euripides Alcestis 1096).

A.2 Andromache

Example a.

Ἀνδροµάχη

ὅµως δ᾽ ἐµαυτὴν οὐ προδοῦσ᾽ ἁλώσοµαι (191).

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Andromache

Nonetheless I shall not be guilty of betraying my cause (Euripides Andromache 191).

Example b.

Ἀνδροµάχη

ὦ µεγάλα πράσσων αἰτίας µικρᾶς πέρι,

πιθοῦ: τί καίνεις µ᾽; ἀντὶ τοῦ; ποίαν πόλιν

προύδωκα; τίνα σῶν ἔκτανον παίδων ἐγώ; (387-89).

Andromache

Mover of mountains because of trifles, do as I ask! Why do you kill me? For what reason? What city have I betrayed? Which of your children have I killed? (Euripides Andromache 387-89).

Example c.

Πηλεύς

ἀλλ᾽, ὡς ἐσεῖδες µαστόν, ἐκβαλὼν ξίφος

φίληµ᾽ ἐδέξω, προδότιν αἰκάλλων κύνα,

ἥσσων πεφυκὼς Κύπριδος, ὦ κάκιστε σύ (629-31).

Peleus

[B]ut when you saw her breasts, you threw away your sword and kissed the traitorous bitch and fawned on her, proving no match, coward that you are, for Aphrodite’s power.

Example d.

Τροφός

πατὴρ δέ σ᾽ οὐχ ὧδ᾽ ὡς σὺ δειµαίνεις, τέκνον,

προδοὺς ἐάσει δωµάτων τῶνδ᾽ ἐκπεσεῖν.

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Nurse

Your father will not, as you fear, abandon you and allow you to be banished from this house.

A.3 Cyclops

Example a.

Χορός

ἅπαντες αὐτὴν διεκροτήσατ᾽ ἐν µέρει,

ἐπεί γε πολλοῖς ἥδεται γαµουµένη,

τὴν προδότιν; (180-82).

Chorus-Leader

[D]idn't you all then take turns banging her, since she takes pleasure in having more than one mate? The traitoress! (Euripides Cyclops 180-82).

A.4 Electra

Example a.

Κλυταιµήστρα

νῦν δ᾽ οὕνεχ᾽ Ἑλένη µάργος ἦν ὅ τ᾽ αὖ λαβὼν

ἄλοχον κολάζειν προδότιν οὐκ ἠπίστατο,

τούτων ἕκατι παῖδ᾽ ἐµὴν διώλεσεν (1027-29).

Clytemnestra

But as it is, he killed her only because Helen was a whore and the man who married her did not know how to chastise the wife who betrayed him (Euripides Electra 1027-29).

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A.5 Helen

Example a.

Ἑλένη

ἡ δὲ πάντα τλᾶσ᾽ ἐγὼ

κατάρατός εἰµι καὶ δοκῶ προδοῦσ᾽ ἐµὸν

πόσιν συνάψαι πόλεµον Ἕλλησιν µέγαν (53-55).

Helen

And I, who have suffered everything, am cursed by men, and all think that I have abandoned my husband and brought a great war upon the Greeks (Euripides Helen 53-55).

Example b.

Μενελέως

προδότις ἂν εἴης: τὴν βίαν σκήψασ᾽ ἔχεις (834).

Menelaus

That would be betrayal. Mentioning force is only an excuse (Euripides Helen 834).

Example c.

Ἑλένη

σῷσον δέ, λίσσοµαί σε: συγγόνῳ δὲ σῷ

τὴν εὐσέβειαν µὴ προδῷς τὴν σήν ποτε (900-01).

Helen

Save him, I beg you! Do not sacrifice your own godliness for your brother’s sake (Euripides

Helen 900-01).

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Example d.

Ἑλένη

ἣ κλῄζοµαι καθ᾽ Ἑλλάδ᾽ ὡς προδοῦσ᾽ ἐµὸν

πόσιν Φρυγῶν ᾤκησα πολυχρύσους δόµους (927-28).

Helen

It is reported throughout Hellas that I abandoned my husband and went to live in the Phrygians’ gilded halls (Euripides Helen 927-28).

Example e.

Θεοκλύµενος

νῦν δὲ τὴν προδοῦσαν ἡµᾶς τεισόµεσθα σύγγονον (1624).

Theoclymenus

But as things are, I will punish the sister who has betrayed me (Euripides Helen 1624).

Example f.

Θεοκλύµενος

ἥ µε προύδωκεν — (1633).

Theoclymenus

… who has played traitor to me… (Euripides Helen 1633).

Example g.

Θεράπων

καλήν γε προδοσίαν, δίκαια δρᾶν (1633).

Second Servant

And a noble piece of treachery it was, a righteous act (Euripides Helen 1633).

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A.6 Heracleidae

Example a.

Ἰόλαος

ἐγὼ δὲ σὺν φεύγουσι συµφεύγω τέκνοις

καὶ σὺν κακῶς πράσσουσι συµπράσσω κακῶς,

ὀκνῶν προδοῦναι (26-28).

Iolaus

With these children who are exiled I too am in exile, and I join my own wretchedness to theirs. I shrink from abandoning them (Euripides Children of Heracles 26-28).

Example b.

Δηµοφῶν

εἰ γὰρ παρήσω τόνδε συλᾶσθαι βίᾳ

ξένου πρὸς ἀνδρὸς βωµόν, οὐκ ἐλευθέραν

οἰκεῖν δοκήσω γαῖαν, Ἀργείων δ᾽ ὄκνῳ

ἱκέτας προδοῦναι: καὶ τάδ᾽ ἀγχόνης πέλας (243-46).

Demophon

For if I am to allow this altar to be forcibly plundered by a foreignher, it will be thought that it is no sovereign land I govern but that I have betrayed suppliants for fear of the Argives (Euripides

Children of Heracles 243-46).

Example c.

Χορός

ὦ πρέσβυ, µή νυν τῶνδ᾽ ἐπαιτιῶ πόλιν:

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τάχ᾽ ἂν γὰρ ἡµῖν ψευδὲς ἀλλ᾽ ὅµως κακὸν

γένοιτ᾽ ὄνειδος ὡς ξένους προυδώκαµεν (461-63).

Chorus Leader

Old sir, do not lay this charge against the city. For though it may be false, it would still be a shameful reproach, that we betrayed strangers (Euripides Children of Heracles 461-63).

Example d.

Παρθένος

ἀλλ᾽ οὐδὲ µέντοι, τῶνδε µὲν τεθνηκότων,

αὐτὴ δὲ σωθεῖσ᾽, ἐλπίδ᾽ εὖ πράξειν ἔχω

(πολλοὶ γὰρ ἤδη τῇδε προύδοσαν φίλους) (520-22).

Maiden

But not even if these boys perished and I lived on would I have the hope of happiness (and many ere now have betrayed friends in this hope) (Euripides Children of Heracles 520-22).

Example e.

Ἰόλαος

οἵδ᾽ οὐ προδώσουσίν σε, µὴ τρέσῃς, ξένοι (715).

Iolaus

Fear not: our hosts here will not give you up (Euripides Children of Heracles 715).

Example f.

Ἐυρυσθεύς

καὶ σοὶ µὲν εὔνους καὶ πόλει σωτήριος

µέτοικος αἰεὶ κείσοµαι κατὰ χθονός,

τοῖς τῶνδε δ᾽ ἐκγόνοισι πολεµιώτατος,

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ὅταν µόλωσι δεῦρο σὺν πολλῇ χερὶ

χάριν προδόντες τήνδε (1032-36).

Eurystheus

I shall lie for all time beneath the earth, a foreign visitor who is kindly to you and a protector of the city, but most hostile to the descendants of Heracles' children when they come here with a great army, betraying the kindness you showed them (Euripides Children of Heracles 1032-36).

Example g.

Ἐυρυσθεύς

Ἥραν νοµίζων θεσφάτων κρείσσω πολὺ

κοὐκ ἂν προδοῦναί µ᾽ (1039-40).

Eurystheus

It was because I thought that Hera was far greater than any oracles and would not abandon me

(Euripides Children of Heracles 1039-40).

A.7 Heracles

Example a.

Ἀµφιτρύων

ἀρετῇ σε νικῶ θνητὸς ὢν θεὸν µέγαν:

παῖδας γὰρ οὐ προύδωκα τοὺς Ἡρακλέους (342-43).

Amphitryon

In goodness I, though mortal, surpass you, a mighty god. I have not abandoned the children of

Heracles (Euripides Heracles 342-43).

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Example b.

Χορός

κἀγώ γε σὺν σοί, µὴ προδοὺς τὰς συµφοράς (1110).

Chorus Leader

Yes, and I will go with you so as not to abandon you in misfortune (Euripides Heracles 1110).

A.8 Hippolytus

Example a.

Τροφός

ἀλλ᾽ ἴσθι µέντοι — πρὸς τάδ᾽ αὐθαδεστέρα

γίγνου θαλάσσης — εἰ θανῇ, προδοῦσα σοὺς

παῖδας (304-306).

Nurse

But you may be sure of this – and then go on being more stubborn than the sea – that if you die you have betrayed your sons (Euripides Hippolytus 304-06).

Example b.

Φαίδρα

καὶ µὴν σαφῶς γε τὴν κακῶν προµνήστριαν,

τὴν δεσπότου προδοῦσαν ἐξαυδᾷ λέχος (589-90).

Phaedra

It's clear enough. He calls her pander for the wicked, one who has betrayed her master's marriage-bed! (Euripides Hippolytus 589-90).

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Example c/d.

Χορός

ὤµοι ἐγὼ κακῶν: προδέδοσαι, φίλα.

τί σοι µήσοµαι;

τὰ κρυπτὰ γὰρ πέφηνε, διὰ δ᾽ ὄλλυσαι,

αἰαῖ, ἒ ἔ, πρόδοτος ἐκ φίλων (591-95).

Chorus

Oh, disaster! You are betrayed, my friend! What can I do for you? What was hidden is now revealed and you are ruined – oh! ah! – betrayed by one close to you! (Euripides Hippolytus

591-95).

Example e.

Θησεύς

µή νυν προδῷς µε, τέκνον, ἀλλὰ καρτέρει (1456).

Theseus

Do not desert me, son, but struggle on! (Euripides Hippolytus 1456).

A.9 Ion

Example a.

Ἴων

νουθετητέος δέ µοι

Φοῖβος, τί πάσχει: παρθένους βίᾳ γαµῶν

προδίδωσι; (437-38).

132

Ion

But I must give Apollo some advice; what is he about? Does he betray virgins by forced rape?

(Euripides Ion 437-38).

Example b.

Ἴων

κᾆτ᾽ ἢ προδοὺς σύ µ᾽ ἐς δάµαρτα σὴν βλέπῃς

ἢ τἀµὰ τιµῶν δῶµα συγχέας ἔχῃς; (614-15).

Ion

Then either you must have regard for your wife and abandon me or honor me and bring confusion upon your house (Euripides Ion 614-15).

Example c.

Πρεσβύτης

δέσποινα, προδεδόµεσθα — σὺν γάρ σοι νοσῶ —

τοῦ σοῦ πρὸς ἀνδρός (808-09).

Tutor

Mistress, we have been betrayed by your husband! (I share in your grief.) (Euripides Ion 808-

09).

Example d.

Κρέουσα

οὐ πόσις ἡµῶν προδότης γέγονεν; (864).

Creusa

Has not my husband betrayed me? (Euripides Ion 864).

133

Example e.

Κρέουσα

οὓς ἀποδείξω

λέκτρων προδότας ἀχαρίστους (879-80).

Creusa

I shall reveal that they are ungrateful betrayers of my bed! (Euripides Ion 879-80).

A.10 Iphigenia at Aulis

Example a.

Μενέλαος

σκήπτρῳ νυν αὔχει, σὸν κασίγνητον προδούς.

ἐγὼ δ᾽ ἐπ᾽ ἄλλας εἶµι µηχανάς τινας

φίλους τ᾽ ἐπ᾽ ἄλλους (412-14).

Menelaus

Feel pride in your sceptre, then, when you have betrayed your brother! I shall turn to other means and to other friends (Euripides Iphigenia at Aulis 412-14).

Example b.

Ἀγαµέµνων

ἀπωλόµεσθα. προδέδοται τὰ κρυπτά µου (1140).

Agamemnon

I am lost! My secret has been betrayed! (Euripides Iphigenia at Aulis 1140).

134

Example c.

Ἰφιγένεια

ὁ δὲ τεκών µε τὰν τάλαιναν,

ὦ µᾶτερ ὦ µᾶτερ,

οἴχεται προδοὺς ἔρηµον (1312-14).

Iphigenia

The father who begot me, O mother, O mother, has gone off and abandoned me to misery!

(Euripides Iphigenia at Aulis 1312-14).

A.11 Iphigenia in Tauris

Example a.

Πυλάδης

δόξω δὲ τοῖς πολλοῖσι — πολλοὶ γὰρ κακοί —

προδοὺς σεσῷσθαί σ᾽ αὐτὸς εἰς οἴκους µόνος (678-89).

Pylades

The many will think (evil as they are) that I came home safely by myself because I abandoned you (Euripides Iphigenia among the Taurians 678-89).

Example b.

Ὀρέστης

καὶ µὴ προδῷς µου τὴν κασιγνήτην ποτέ,

ἔρηµα κήδη καὶ δόµους ὁρῶν πατρός (706-07).

Orestes

And never desert my sister: my father’s house, yours by marriage, is destitute (Euripides

Iphigenia among the Taurians 706-07).

135

Example c.

Πυλάδης

ἔσται τάφος σοι, καὶ κασιγνήτης λέχος

οὐκ ἂν προδοίην, ὦ τάλας, ἐπεί σ᾽ ἐγὼ

θανόντα µᾶλλον ἢ βλέπονθ᾽ ἕξω φίλον (716-18).

Pylades

You shall have a burial, and I shall never desert the bed of your sister, poor man: I shall hold you a dearer friend in death than in life (Euripides Iphigenia among the Taurians 716-18).

Example d.

Ἄγγελος

ἣ φόνον τὸν Αὐλίδι

ἀµνηµόνευτον θεᾷ προδοῦσ᾽ ἁλίσκεται (1418-19).

Messenger

She has forgotten her sacrifice in Aulis and now stands convicted of betraying the goddess

(Euripides Iphigenia among the Taurians 1418-19).

A.12 Medea

Example a.

Τροφός

προδοὺς γὰρ αὑτοῦ τέκνα δεσπότιν τ᾽ ἐµὴν

γάµοις Ἰάσων βασιλικοῖς εὐνάζεται,

γήµας Κρέοντος παῖδ᾽, ὃς αἰσυµνᾷ χθονός (17-19).

136

Nurse

For Jason, abandoning his own children and my mistress, is bedding down in a royal match, having married the daughter of Creon, ruler of this land (Euripides Medea 17-19).

Example b.

Τροφός

οὓς προδοῦσ᾽ ἀφίκετο

µετ᾽ ἀνδρὸς ὅς σφε νῦν ἀτιµάσας ἔχει (32-33).

Nurse

All these she abandoned when she came here with a man who has now cast her aside (Euripides

Medea 32-33).

Example c.

Χορός

ἰαχὰν ἄιον πολύστονον

γόων, λιγυρὰ δ᾽ ἄχεα µογερὰ

βοᾷ τὸν ἐν λέχει προδόταν κακόνυµφον (205-07).

Chorus

I have heard her cry full of groans, how she utters shrill charges against the husband who betrayed her bed (Euripides Medea 205-07).

Example d.

Μήδεια

αὐτὴ δὲ πατέρα καὶ δόµους προδοῦσ᾽ ἐµοὺς

τὴν Πηλιῶτιν εἰς Ἰωλκὸν ἱκόµην

σὺν σοί, πρόθυµος µᾶλλον ἢ σοφωτέρα (483-85).

137

Medea

Of my own accord I abandoned my father and my home and came with you to Iolcus under

Pelion, showing more love than sense (Euripides Medea 483-85).

Example e.

Μήδεια

καὶ ταῦθ᾽ ὑφ᾽ ἡµῶν, ὦ κάκιστ᾽ ἀνδρῶν, παθὼν

προύδωκας ἡµᾶς, καινὰ δ᾽ ἐκτήσω λέχη,

παίδων γεγώτων (488-90).

Medea

And after such benefits from me, o basest of men, you have betrayed me and have taken a new marriage, though we had children (Euripides Medea 488-90).

Example f.

Μήδεια

νῦν ποῖ τράπωµαι; πότερα πρὸς πατρὸς δόµους,

οὓς σοὶ προδοῦσα καὶ πάτραν ἀφικόµην; (502-03).

Medea

—where am I now to turn? To my father's house, which like my country I betrayed for your sake when I came here? (Euripides Medea 502-03).

Example g.

Χορός

Ἰᾶσον, εὖ µὲν τούσδ᾽ ἐκόσµησας λόγους:

ὅµως δ᾽ ἔµοιγε, κεἰ παρὰ γνώµην ἐρῶ,

δοκεῖς προδοὺς σὴν ἄλοχον οὐ δίκαια δρᾶν (576-78).

138

Chorus-Leader

Jason, you have marshalled your arguments very skilfully, but I think, even though it may be imprudent to say so, that in abandoning your wife you are not doing right (Euripides Medea

576-78).

Example h.

Μήδεια

τί δρῶσα; µῶν γαµοῦσα καὶ προδοῦσά σε; (606).

Medea

How? By taking another wife and abandoning you? (Euripides Medea 606).

Example i.

Μήδεια

µολόντι δ᾽ αὐτῷ µαλθακοὺς λέξω λόγους,

ὡς καὶ δοκεῖ µοι ταὐτὰ καὶ καλῶς γαµεῖ

γάµους τυράννων οὓς προδοὺς ἡµᾶς ἔχει,

καὶ ξύµφορ᾽ εἶναι καὶ καλῶς ἐγνωσµένα (776-79).

Medea

When he arrives, I shall speak soothing words to him, saying that I hold the same opinion as he, that the royal marriage he has made by abandoning me is well made, that these are beneficial and good decisions (Euripides Medea 776-79).

Example j.

Ἰάσων

κακὸν µέγα,

πατρός τε καὶ γῆς προδότιν ἥ σ᾽ ἐθρέψατο (1331-32)

139

Jason

A great curse you were even then, betrayer of father and of the land that nourished you

(Euripides Medea 1331-32).

A.13 Orestes

Example a.

Ὀρέστης

ἥτις µεθ᾽ ὅπλων ἄνδρ᾽ ἀπόντ᾽ ἐκ δωµάτων

πάσης ὑπὲρ γῆς Ἑλλάδος στρατηλάτην

προύδωκε κοὐκ ἔσῳσ᾽ ἀκήρατον λέχος (573-75).

Orestes

Her husband was away from home under arms, leading all of Greece. She betrayed him and did not keep the chastity of her bed (Euripides Orestes 573-75).

Example b.

Ὀρέστης

οἴµοι, προδέδοµαι, κοὐκέτ᾽ εἰσὶν ἐλπίδες,

ὅποι τραπόµενος θάνατον Ἀργείων φύγω:

οὗτος γὰρ ἦν µοι καταφυγὴ σωτηρίας (722-24).

Orestes

Oh, I have been abandoned! I have no hope, no place I can turn to escape an Argive death! He was my life-saving refuge (Euripides Orestes 722-24).

140

Example c.

Ὀρέστης

νῦν µὲν γὰρ ἡ προδοῦσα λέκτρ᾽ ἐµοῦ πατρὸς

τέθνηκεν (939-40).

Orestes

For at present she who betrayed my father’s bed lies dead (Euripides Orestes 939-40).

Example d.

Ἠλέκτρα

οὐδ᾽ εἶφ᾽ ὑπὲρ σοῦ, µὴ θανεῖν σπουδὴν ἔχων,

Μενέλαος ὁ κακός, ὁ προδότης τοὐµοῦ πατρός; (1056-57)

Electra

Did he not even speak on your behalf to prevent your death, Menelaus the base, the betrayer of my father? (Euripides Orestes 1056-57).

Example e.

Πυλάδης

µήθ᾽ αἷµά µου δέξαιτο κάρπιµον πέδον,

µὴ λαµπρὸς αἰθήρ, εἴ σ᾽ ἐγὼ προδούς ποτε

ἐλευθερώσας τοὐµὸν ἀπολίποιµι σέ (1086-88).

Pylades

May the fruitful earth not receive my blood, nor the bright upper air my spirit if I ever betray you and free myself by abandoning you! (Euripides Orestes 1086-88)

141

Example f.

Ὀρέστης

ἐγὼ δὲ πάντως ἐκπνέων ψυχὴν ἐµὴν

δράσας τι χρῄζω τοὺς ἐµοὺς ἐχθροὺς θανεῖν,

ἵν᾽ ἀνταναλώσω µὲν οἵ µε προύδοσαν (1163-65).

Orestes

Now since I am in any case going to breathe out my life, I want to do something to my enemies before I die so that I can repay with destruction those who have betrayed me (Euripides Orestes

1163-65).

Example g.

Ὀρέστης

προδέδοµαι δ᾽ ὑπὸ κασιγνήτου σέθεν,

δίκαια πράξας (1228-29).

Orestes

[A]nd I have been abandoned by your brother though I acted justly (Euripides Orestes 1228-

29).

Example h.

Ἠλέκτρα

οὐδ᾽ ἐγὼ προύδωκά σε (1237).

Electra

I did not abandon you either (Euripides Orestes 1237).

142

Example i.

Φρύξ

κακός σ᾽ ἀποκτείνει πόσις,

κασιγνήτου προδοὺς

ἐν Ἄργει θανεῖν γόνον (1463-65).

Phrygian

Your slayer is your cowardly husband, who abandoned his brother’s son to death in Argos

(Euripides Orestes 1463-65).

Example j.

Ὀρέστης

ὁ πατρὸς ἀµύντωρ, ὃν σὺ προύδωκας θανεῖν (1588).

Orestes

Yes, I the father avenger, whom you abandoned to his death! (Euripides Orestes 1588)

A.14 Phoenissae

Example a.

Μενοικεύς

καὶ συγγνωστὰ µὲν

γέροντι, τοὐµὸν δ᾽ οὐχὶ συγγνώµην ἔχει,

προδότην γενέσθαι πατρίδος ἥ µ᾽ ἐγείνατο (994-96).

Menoeceus

To be sure, in an old man this is pardonable, but there would be no pardon for me if I betrayed the country that begot me (Euripides Phoenician Women 994-96).

143

Example b.

Μενοικεύς

ἐγὼ δέ, πατέρα καὶ κασίγνητον προδοὺς

πόλιν τ᾽ ἐµαυτοῦ, δειλὸς ὣς ἔξω χθονὸς

ἄπειµ᾽: ὅπου δ᾽ ἂν ζῶ, κακὸς φανήσοµαι (1003-05).

Menoeceus

And on the other, shall I betray father, brother, and my own city, leave the country like a coward, and be shown up as base wherever I live? (Euripides Phoenician Women 1003-05).

Example c.

Ἄγγελος

ὦ γηροβοσκὼ µητρός, ὦ γάµους ἐµοὺς

προδόντ᾽ ἀδελφὼ φιλτάτω (1436-37).

Second Messenger

“Sons, support of your mother’s old age!” and “Dear brothers, who have not seen to my marriage” (Euripides Phoenician Women 1436-37).

Example d.

Οἰδίπους

οὐ µὴν ἑλίξας γ᾽ ἀµφὶ σὸν χεῖρας γόνυ

κακὸς φανοῦµαι: τὸ γὰρ ἐµόν ποτ᾽ εὐγενὲς

οὐκ ἂν προδοίην, οὐδέ περ πράσσων κακῶς (1622-24).

144

Oedipus

Yet I will not entwine my arms about your knees and show myself to be base. I shall never betray the noble blood that once was mine, even though I fare so ill (Euripides Phoenician

Women 1622-24).

A.15 Suppliants

Example a.

Χορός79

τί δρᾷς; προδώσεις ταῦτα κἀκβαλεῖς χθονὸς

γραῦς οὐ τυχούσας οὐδὲν ὧν αὐτὰς ἐχρῆν; (265-66).

Adratus

What are you doing? Will you abandon this tie and expel from the land old women who have received nothing of what is owed them? (Euripides Suppliant Women 265-66).

Example b.

Εὐάδνη

σὲ τὸν θανόντ᾽ οὔποτ᾽ ἐµᾷ

προδοῦσα ψυχᾷ κατὰ γᾶς (1023-24).

Evadne

Never, where my life is concerned, shall I abandon you lying dead beneath the earth! (Euripides Suppliant Women 1023-24).

79 There is some debate about this set of lines. The Greek text used has them as said by the chorus, while Kovacs’s translation has them said by Adratus. 145

A.16 The Trojan Women

Example a.

Ἑλένη

τί δὴ φρονοῦσά γ᾽ ἐκ δόµων ἅµ᾽ ἑσπόµην

ξένῳ, προδοῦσα πατρίδα καὶ δόµους ἐµούς; (946-47).

Helen

What was I thinking of that I left the house in company with a stranger, abandoning my country and my home? (Euripides Trojan Women 946-47).

Example b.

Ἑκάβη

νόµον δὲ τόνδε ταῖς ἄλλαισι θὲς

γυναιξί, θνῄσκειν ἥτις ἂν προδῷ πόσιν (1031-32).

Hecuba

Establish this law for the rest of women: death to her who betrays her husband! (Euripides

Trojan Women 1031-32).

Example c.

Ἑκάβη

µηδ᾽ οὓς ἀπέκτειν᾽ ἥδε συµµάχους προδῷς:

ἐγὼ πρὸ κείνων καὶ τέκνων σε λίσσοµαι (1044-45).

Hecuba

Do not betray the allies of yours this woman has killed! I beg you for their sake and for that of my sons! (Euripides Trojan Women 1044-45).

146

Example d.

Χορός

οὕτω δὴ τὸν ἐν Ἰλίῳ

ναὸν καὶ θυόεντα βω-

µὸν προύδωκας Ἀχαιοῖς (1060-62).

Chorus

Did you, O Zeus, so lightly betray your temple in Ilium and its incense-laden altar to the Greeks

(Euripides Trojan Women 1060-62).

147

Appendix B: Norse Words for Betrayal

B.1 Poetic Edda80

B.1.1 Helgakviða Hundingsbana ǫnnor (The Second lay of Helgi Hundingsbani)

Example a.

"Hvárt ero þat svic ein, er ec siá þicciomz, eða ragna rǫk, ríða men dauðir?” (40).

“Is this some kind of delusion, that I think I can see dead men riding, or is it Ragnarok?”

(Larrington Edda 139).

Example b.

"Era þat svic ein, er þú siá þicciz, né aldar rof” (41).

“It is not a delusion that you think you see, nor the end of mankind” (Larrington Edda 139).

B.1.2 Grípisspá (Gripir’s Prophecy)

Example a.

“Þú verðr, siclingr, fyr svicom annars, mundo Grímhildar gialda ráða” (33).

“Prince, victim of another’s treachery you’ll be, Grimhild’s councils will prevail” (Larrington

Edda 147).

Example b.

“mun bióða þér biarthaddað man, dóttur sína, dregr hon vél at gram" (33).

80 véla and ráða do not always reference a betrayal act in these examples, but such examples were included to demonstrate the additional meanings these two words can have. 148

“she’ll offer you the bright-haired girl, her daughter, she’ll play a trick on the prince”

(Larrington Edda 147).

Example c.

"Þic mun Grímhildr gorva véla, mun hon Brynhildar biðia fýsa

Gunnari til handa” (35).

“Grimhild will thoroughly deceive you, she’ll urge you to woo Brynhild for Gunnar” (Larrington

Edda 147).

Example d.

“vilda ec eigi vélom beita iǫfra brúði, er ec œzta veitc" (40).

“I should not wish to entrap with cunning the noble bride whom I know to be the best”

(Larrington Edda 148).

Example e.

“enn Brynhildr þicciz, brúðr, vargefin, snót fiðr vélar sér at hefndom" (45).

“and Brynhild the bride will think herself disparaged, the lady will find means to get her revenge” (Larrington Edda 149).

Example f.

"Hvat mun at bótom brúðr sú taca, er vélar vér vífi gerðom?” (46).

“What compensation will that bride accept when we’ve woven for her such deceit?” (Larrington

Edda 149).

149

Example g.

“viðr þú góðri grand aldregi,

þó ér víf konungs vélom beittoð" (49).

“Never will you harm the good lady, though the king’s wife plots treachery against you”

(Larrington Edda 149).

B.1.3 Fáfnismál (The Lay of Fafnir)

Example a.

"Reginn mic réð, hann þic ráða mun, hann mun ocr verða báðom at bana” (22).

“Regin betrayed me, he’ll betray you, he’ll be the death of us both” (Larrington Edda 161).

Example b.

"Þar liggr Reginn, ræðr um við sic, vill tæla mǫg, þann er trúir hánom” (33).

“There lies Regin plotting to himself, he wants to betray the boy, the one who trusts him”

(Larrington Edda 163).

Example c.

“þar er Reginn liggr, er hann ráðinn hefr, kannat hann við slíco at siá" (37).

“there Regin is lying and plotting against him; he doesn’t know how to guard against such a thing” (Larrington Edda 163).

B.1.4 Sigrdrífomál (The Lay of Sigrdrifa)

Example a.

150

“Ǫlrúnar scaltu kunna, ef þú vill annars qvæn vélit þic í trygð, ef þú trúir” (7).

“Ale-runes must you know if you do not want another’s wife to beguile your trust, if you believe her” (Larrington Edda 161).

B.1.5 Brot af Sigurðarqviðo (Fragment of a Poem about Sigurd)

Example a.

“þa vélti hann mic, er hann vera scyldi allra eiða einn fulltrúi” (2).

“thus he deceived me when he should have been completely trustworthy in every oath”

(Larrington Edda 174).

Example b.

Enn þat segia allir einnig, at þeir svico hann í trygð oc vógo at hánom liggianda oc óbúnom (“Frá dauða Sigurðar” 7-8).

But they all say that they treacherously betrayed him and attacked him when he was lying down and unarmed (Larrington Edda 176).

B.1.6 Sigurðarqviða in Scamma (Short Poem about Sigurd)

Example a.

“Villdu ocr fylki til fiár véla?” (16).

“Will you, for our sake, betray the prince for money?” (Larrington Edda 184).

Example b.

“Margs á ec minnaz, hvé við mic fóro,

þá er mic sára svicna hǫfðut” (57).

151

“Much I remember: how they acted against me, those who betrayed me, caused me pain”

(Larrington Edda 189).

B.1.7 Helreið Brynhildar (Brynhild’s Ride to Hell)

Example a.

“þar varð ec þess vís, er ec vildigac, at þau vélto mic í verfangi” (13).

“then I discovered what I wish I’d never known, that they’d betrayed me in my taking a husband” (Larrington Edda 194).

B.1.8 Oddrúnargrátr (Oddrun’s Lament)

Example a. vara langt af því, heldr válítið, unz þær vélar vissi allar (18).

It was not long thereafter, rather it was pitifully soon, that she knew all of their strategems

(Larrington Edda 207).

B.1.9 Atlaqviða in Grœnlenzca (The Lay of Atli)

Example a.

"Ráðinn ertu nú, Gunnarr, hvat muntu, rícr, vinna við Húna harmbrǫgðom? hǫll gac þú ór snemma!” (15).

“Betrayed you are now, Gunnar; what, mighty lord, will help you against the evil tricks of the

Huns? Quickly, leave the hall!” (Larrington Edda 212).

B.1.10 Atlamál in Grœnlenzco (The Greenlandic Poem of Atli)

Example a.

152

œxto einmæli, yggt var þeim síðan ok iþ sama sonom Giúca, er vóro sannráðnir (1).

They talked privately together, terror came of it afterward, for them and for the sons of Giuki, who were utterly betrayed (Larrington Edda 217).

Example b.

Ǫlværir urðo oc elda kyndo, hugðo vætr véla, er þeir vóro komnir (5).

They were most welcoming, stoked up the fires, they perceived no treachery in those who had come (Larrington Edda 218).

Example c.

“firðan mic frœndom, fé opt svikinn, sendoð systr Helio, slícs ec mest kennomc” (56).

“you’ve deprived me of kinsmen, swindled me of property, you sent my sister off to hell, that is what matters most to me” (Larrington Edda 225).

Example d.

"Vaðit hefir þú at vígi, þótt værið scaplict; illt er vin véla, þannz þér vel trúir” (92).

“You have waded deep into killing, though it was not right; it is wrong to betray a friend who trusted you well” (Larrington Edda 231).

B.2 Völsunga Saga

Example a.

Skaði grunar sögn Siga ok getr, at vera munu svik hans, ok mun Sigi hafa drepit hann (84.8-10)

153

Skadi doubted Sigi’s story. He guessed that there was likely to be deception on Sigi’s part and that Sigi had killed the thrall (Byock Saga 35).

Example b.

En þann sama aptan kom Signý, dóttir Völsungs konungs, ok kallar feðr sinn á einmæli ok brœðr sína, segir nú ætlan sína ok Siggeirs konungs, at hann hefir dregit saman úvígjan her, "ok ætlar at svíkja yðr” (90.12-16).

That same evening Signy, the daughter of King Volsung, came and called her father and brothers together for a private talk. She told them of King Siggeir’s plans: that Siggeir had gathered an unbeatable army, “and he plans to betray you” (Byock Saga 40).

Example c.

“þvíat eigi missi þér svika af honum, ef eigi taki þér þetta bragð, sem ek beiði yðr” (90.19-20).

“But do not put yourselves in this trap, for you will not escape his treachery if you do not do as

I advise” (Byock Saga 40).

Example d.

Nú grunar konungr, at vera munu svik við hann (97.30-31).

The king suspected treachery (Byock Saga 45).

Example e.

Önnur segir: "Þar liggr Reginn ok vill véla þann, sem honum trúir" (123.15-16).

Another said, “There lies Regin, who wants to betray the one who trusts him” (Byock Saga 66).

Example f.

Ölrúnar skaltu kunna, ef þú vilt, annars kvæn vélit þik í trygð, ef þú trúir (127.17-19).

154

Ale runes shall you know

If you desire no other’s wife

To deceive you in troth, if you trust (Byock Saga 68).

Example g.

Brynhildr svarar: "Ekki höfum vér launmæli haft, ok þó höfum vit eiða svarit, ok vissu þér þat, at

þér véltuð mik, ok þess skal hefna" (148.18-20).

Brynhild replied: “Our talk was not secret and yet we had sworn oaths. You knew that you were betraying me. And that betrayal I shall avenge” (Byock Saga 83).

Example h.

Brynhildr svarar: "Njóti þér svá Sigurðar, sem þér hafið mik eigi svikit, ok er yðart samveldi

úmakligt, ok gangi yðr svá, sem ek hygg" (149.13-15).

Brynhild replied: “Enjoy Sigurd as if you had not betrayed me. You are undeserving to live together. May things proceed for you as I foresee” (Byock Saga 84).

Example i.

Hún mælti: "Hví sætir þin dirfð, er þú ferr mik at hitta; mér var engi verri í þessum svikum"

(152.14-15).

She said: “How arrogant you are to come to see me! No one has behaved worse toward me in this treachery” (Byock Saga 86).

Example j.

Brynhildr svarar: "Eigi standa þín orð af litlu fári, síðan þér svikuð mik frá öllu yndi, ok ekki hirði ek um lífit" (153.12-14).

Brynhild answered: “Your words do not come from little distress, since you cheated me of all delight; I care not about my life” (Byock Saga 87).

155

Example k.

Sigurðr svarar: "Annat er sannara: ek unna þér betr en mér, þótt ek yrða fyrir þeim svikum, ok má því nú ekki bregða” (153.18-20).

“Something else is closer to the truth,” replied Sigurd. “I love you more than myself, although I was the object of the deceit that cannot now be changed” (Byock Saga 87).

Example l.

Brynhildr svarar: "Ekki er slíkt at mæla, ok eigi mun ek eiga tvá konunga í einni höll, ok fyrr skal ek líf láta en ek svíkja Gunnar konung" (154.1-3).

Brynhild answered: “Such things are not to be said. I will not have two kings in one hall. And sooner would I die before I would deceive King Gunnar” (Byock Saga 88).

Example m.

"Ek vil eigi lifa," sagði Brynhildr, "þvíat Sigurðr hefir mik vélt, ok eigi síðr þik, þá er þú lézt hann fara í mína sæng” (154.27-155.2).

“I do not want to live,” said Brynhild, “because Sigurd has betrayed me, and he betrayed you no less, when you let him come into my bed” (Byock Saga 88).

Example n.

"Fyrir mik er komit vandmæli mikit;" segir, at hann vill drepa Sigurð, kvað hann hafa vélt sik í trygð: "ráðum vit þá gullinu ok öllu ríkinu" (155.18-21).

He said that he wanted to kill Sigurd, that Sigurd had betrayed his trust: “We will then also control the gold and have all the power” (Byock Saga 89).

Example o.

Högni segir: "Þat ráð lízt mér illa sett, ok þótt framm komi, þá munu vér gjöld fyrir taka at svíkja slíkan mann" (156.17-19).

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Hogni said: “That seems poor advice to me. And even if the deed is done, we will pay for betraying such a man” (Byock Saga 89).

Example p.

Sigurðr vissi eigi ván þessarra vélræða (157.6-7).

Sigurd did not expect such deceit (Byock Saga 90).

Example q.

Sigurðr vissi sik ok eigi véla verðan frá þeim (157.8-9).

Sigurd also did not perceive that he was deserving of betrayal from them (Byock Saga 90).

Example r.

Atli mun þik svíkja ok í ormgarð setja, ok síðan mun Atli drepinn ok synir hans: Guðrún mun þá drepa (161.7-9).

Atli will betray you and put you in a snake pit, and then Atli and his sons will be killed; Gudrun will slay them (Byock Saga 92).

Example s.

Drottningin veit nú þeira einmæli, ok grunar, at vera muni vélar við brœðr hennar (168.4-6).

The queen, aware of the king’s private meeting with his councillors, suspected there would be treachery towards her brothers (Byock Saga 96).

Example t. at Glaumvör kona Gunnars segir drauma sína marga, þá er henni þóttu líkligir til svika, en

Gunnarr réð alla því á móti (171.9-11).

Glaumvor, Gunnar’s wife, spoke of her many dreams which seemed to her to portend betrayal, but Gunnar gave them all a different meaning (Byock Saga 99).

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Example u.

"Fyrir löngu hafða ek þat mér í hug," [segir Atli], "at ná yðru lífi, en ráða gullinu ok launa yðr

þat níðingsverk, er þér svikuð yðarn inn bezta mág, ok skal ek hans hefna" (173.20-23).

“For a long time,” replied Atli, “I have intended to take your lives, to control the gold, and to repay you for your villainy when you betrayed your finest brother-in-law. And I shall avenge him” (Byock Saga 100).

Example v.

“Þér hafið nú drepit marga mína frændr, en svikit mik frá ríkinu ok fénu, ráðit systur mína, ok

þat harmar mik mest” (175.3-5).

“Now you have killed many of my relatives, cheated me of treasure and kingdom, and contrived my sister’s death, which grieves me the most” (Byock Saga 101).

Example w.

Bikki mælti: "Þat samir, herra! at vita, hvat títt er um, þótt vant sé upp at bera, en þat er um vélar

þær, er sonr þinn hefir fengit fulla ást Svanhildar, ok er hún hans frilla, ok lát slíkt eigi óhegnt"

(183.24-184.1).

Bikki said: “It behooves you, my lord, to know what has happened, although it is difficult to relate. Yet it has to do with deceits against you. Your son has received Svanhild’s full love, and she is his mistress. Do not let such a wrong go unpunished” (Byock Saga 107).

Example x.

En Guðrún gekk til skemmu harmi aukin ok mælti: "Þrimr mönnum var ek gift, fyrst Sigurði

Fáfnisbana, ok var hann svikinn” (8-11).

Gudrun went to her chamber, her sorrow yet heavier, and said: “I have been married to three men. First I wedded Sigurd the slayer of Fafnir and he was betrayed” (Byock Saga 108).

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