1
THE HORTATIVE AORIST
Word Count (including footnotes): 5977
The final section on the aorist indicative in Goodwin’s Moods and Tenses identifies
the following usage: ‘In questions with τί οὐ [‘why not’], expressing surprise that
something is not already done, and implying an exhortation to do it’.1 Other scholars
identify urgency or impatience in these questions. Albert Rijksbaron writes:
‘Questions with the 1st or 2nd person of the aorist indicative, introduced by τί οὖν οὐ
or τί οὐ, often serve, especially in Plato and Xenophon, as urgent requests [original
emphasis] … The aorist indicative is more emphatic than the present: the speaker
observes that a state of affairs which he apparently wants to occur has, in fact, not
occurred, and he asks his interlocutor why it has not’.2 Kühner-Gerth explain it as
follows: ‘Der Redende wünscht in seiner Ungeduld gewissermassen die begehrte
Handlung als eine schon geschehene zu sehen’. They contrast allegedly less urgent
examples in present (‘der Ton der Frage ist alsdann ruhiger’).3 These scholars stress
1
W.W. Goodwin, Syntax of the Moods and Tenses of the Greek Verb (corrected
impression; London, 1912), §62; cf. H.W. Smyth, Greek Grammar (Cambridge,
Mass., 1920), §1936.
2
A. Rijksbaron, The Syntax and Semantics of the Verb in Classical Greek
(Amsterdam, 20023), 31.
3
R. Kühner and B. Gerth, Ausführliche Grammatik der griechischen Sprache ii
(Hanover and Leipzig, 1898–19043), 1.165–6. Cf. P.T. Stevens, ‘Colloquial
expressions in Euripides’, CQ 31 (1937), 182-91, at 184–5 (‘in impatient questions,
2
the pastness of the aorist tense in communicating urgency and impatience: ‘Why have
you not …?’. This remains the dominant view, regularly repeated in commentaries.
A minority of scholars deny that these aorists refer to past time, and compare
them to ‘instantaneous’ uses like ἥσθην or ἀπέπτυσα. E.S. Thompson found ‘the
same momentary or exclamatory force’, and remarks it ‘was not felt as a past tense’,
since we find it with primary sequence at Pl. Prt. 317d and Prm. 136c.4 Thompson
suggests that the present is more a question, while the aorist is more a command,
contrasting English ‘Why do you not tell him?’ (question) and ‘Why not tell him?’
(command). He is certainly correct that these aorists have directive force, but so do
many similar questions in the present (e.g. Xen. Mem. 3.1.10; Ar. Eq. 1207–8, and
several other presents discussed in more detail below). Arjan Nijk, in a recent
discussion (from which the term ‘hortative aorist’ is adopted here), takes a rather
different view of the aspectual distinction between present and aorist. 5 He rightly
criticizes the traditional view that the pastness of the aorist communicates impatience
or urgency, observing that many of these questions are not particularly urgent, and
that any hint of impatience would import an element of impoliteness which would
clearly be at odds with the context (e.g. Pl. Prt. 317d; Xen. Cyr. 2.1.4). ‘These
problems disappear if we take the aorist in these questions as a present tense. The
difference between the present and the aorist is then purely aspectual; the aspectual
equivalent to an imperative or an exhortation’); he does not discuss this usage in
Colloquial Expressions in Euripides (Hermes Einzelschriften 38; Wiesbaden, 1976),
so presumably decided that it was not colloquial after all.
4
E.S. Thompson (ed.), The Meno of Plato (London, 1901), 189–90 (note on 92d).
5
A. Nijk, ‘How to control the present: a unified account of the nonpast uses of the
aorist indicative’, JHS 136 (2016), 92–112.
3
variation in hortative questions is fully parallel to that in the hortatory subjunctive (for
example καλῶμεν versus καλέσωμεν)’.6 Nijk’s explanation is theoretically plausible
in linguistic terms, but is only illustrated by two contrasting pairs of passages, neither
of which supports it. A number of counterexamples are also overlooked.
The present discussion will adopt a more inductive approach, beginning with a
detailed examination of a reasonably wide range of hortative aorists, and then
contrasting them with some examples of the present tense in similar constructions.
(1) Socrates goes to see Protagoras in the house of Callias, in order to
introduce Hippocrates, a young admirer, to him. Protagoras explains that he would
prefer to talk to him in public rather than privately, and Socrates continues the story
as follows (Pl. Prt. 317d): καὶ ἐγώ—ὑπώπτευσα γὰρ βούλεσθαι αὐτὸν τῷ τε
Προδίκῳ καὶ τῷ Ἱππίᾳ ἐνδείξασθαι καὶ καλλωπίσασθαι ὅτι ἐρασταὶ αὐτοῦ ἀφιγμένοι
εἶμεν—τί οὖν, ἔφην ἐγώ, οὐ καὶ Πρόδικον καὶ Ἱππίαν ἐκαλέσαμεν καὶ τοὺς μετ᾽
αὐτῶν, ἵνα ἐπακούσωσιν ἡμῶν; (‘And I—for I suspected that he wanted to put on a
performance in front of Prodicus and Hippias, and show off that we had come as his
admirers— “Why then”, I said, “do we not invite Prodicus and Hippias and those
with them to listen to us?”’). Socrates has no reason to be impatient, as Protagoras has
only just agreed to talk to Hippocrates in public, and there has therefore been no
reason until now to consider inviting Hippias and Prodicus to join the audience.
Socrates stresses his own tact, although his auditor and the reader may note some
irony at Protagoras’ expense.
6
Nijk (n. 5), 103. Cf. N. Denyer (ed.), Plato: Protagoras (Cambridge, 2008), 67 (note
on 310a2): ‘the aorist of the indicative … has the same import as the aorist of an
imperative’.
4
(2) The young Socrates responds to Parmenides setting him a difficult task (Pl.
Prm. 136c): ἀμήχανόν γ᾽, ἔφη, λέγεις, ὦ Παρμενίδη, πραγματείαν, καὶ οὐ σφόδρα
μανθάνω. ἀλλά μοι τί οὐ διῆλθες αὐτὸς ὑποθέμενός τι, ἵνα μᾶλλον καταμάθω; (‘It
is a very difficult inquiry that you describe, Parmenides, and I do not entirely
understand it. Why don’t you put forward a hypothesis and go through it
yourself, so that I might understand better?’). When Parmenides refuses the task
because of his age, Socrates turns to Zeno ἀλλὰ σὐ, ... Ζήνων, τί οὐ διῆλθες ἡμῖν;
(‘Why don’t you go through it for us, Zeno?’). The company then prevails on
Parmenides to give a demonstration. Socrates is represented as an earnest young man
who is eager to learn from these great thinkers, and the tone cannot be other than
respectful.
(3) The Stranger suggests taking the discussion slowly, after Theaetetus has
been unable to answer the previous question (Pl. Soph. 251e): ΞΕ. τί οὖν οὐ καθ᾽ ἓν
ἀποκρινόμενος ἐφ᾽ ἑκάστου τὰ συμβαίνοντα ἐσκέψω; (‘Then why don’t you
answer the questions one at a time, and examine the consequences in each case?’).
Theaetetus responds positively to this patient and sympathetic proposal. Hortative
aorists are used in four other passages by Socrates when suggesting a new line of
philosophical discussion, and taken as a group it is difficult to see them all as urgent
or impatient. (4) Socrates to Alcibiades (Pl. Alc. 1 114b): πότερον δὲ ταὐτά ἐστι
δίκαιά τε καὶ συμφέροντ᾽ ἢ ἕτερα, τί οὐκ ἀπέδειξας; (‘Why don’t you prove
whether the just and the expedient are the same or different?’). Socrates is willing to
drop an argument which fails to interest Alcibiades, and indulgently tries him with
another one. The tone is cajoling rather than impatient. (5) Socrates begins a typical
investigation (Xen. Mem. 4.6.14): τί οὖν οὐκ ἐκεῖνο πρῶτον ἐπεσκεψάμεθα, τί ἐστιν
ἔργον ἀγαθοῦ πολίτου; (‘Why then don’t we examine first, what is the function of a
5
good citizen?’). Xenophon is illustrating Socrates’ dialectical method, and the stress is
on his patient and effective method of persuasion. (6) Socrates challenges Callicles,
who has said that some politicians make the citizens better (Pl. Grg. 503b): εἴ τινα
ἔχεις τῶν ῥητόρων τοιοῦτον εἰπεῖν, τί οὐχὶ καὶ ἐμοὶ αὐτὸν ἔφρασας τίς ἐστιν; (‘If
you are able to name one of these politicians, why don’t you tell me who he is?’).
This example could certainly be interpreted as impatient, but it is equally possible that
Socrates’ tone is one of ironic politeness. (7) Socrates to Callicles again (Pl. Grg.
509e): τί οὐκ αὐτό γέ μοι τοῦτο ἀπεκρίνω ... ; (‘Why don’t you answer me this
…?’). There is a notable contrast between Socrates’ politeness and Callicles’
abruptness and impatience.
(8) Socrates suggests to Critias that they examine Charmides’ soul (Pl. Chrm.
154e): τί οὖν ... οὐκ ἀπεδύσαμεν αὐτοῦ αὐτὸ τοῦτο καὶ ἐθεασάμεθα πρότερον τοῦ
εἴδους; (‘Why don’t we strip this part of him and examine it before his body?’).
This is clearly a proposal which requires a degree of tact when addressed to the
guardian of a beautiful boy, and nothing could be less appropriate than for Socrates to
give the slightest hint of impatience. Critias seems well-disposed, and Socrates
follows up with yet another hortative aorist: ἀλλὰ τί οὐκ ἐπέδειξάς μοι τὸν νεανίαν
καλέσας δεῦρο; (‘Why don’t you call the boy over and show him to me?’). Socrates
is at pains to emphasize that there is nothing improper (αἰσχρός) about him talking to
Charmides so long as Critias is present.7
(9) Hiero replies to Simonides’ request to compare the lives of the tyrant and
the private citizen (Xen. Hier. 1.3): τί οὖν ... οὐχὶ καὶ σύ, ἐπεὶ νῦν γε ἔτι ἰδιώτης εἶ,
ὑπέμνησάς με τὰ ἐν τῷ ἰδιωτικῷ βίῷ; (‘Why then don’t you remind me of what
7
Cf. J. Davidson, The Greeks and Greek Love (London, 2007), 85.
6
happens in private life, since you are still a private citizen?’).8 Simonides proceeds to
do so. The conversation is very polite, with much mutual respect. Several of these
examples are invitations of the kind ‘Why don’t you do it yourself then?’. This is the
case with 2, which is undoubtedly very respectful. Compare also the following two
passages: (10) Protarchus suggests to Socrates that he answer his own easy questions
(Pl. Phlb. 54b): τί οὖν οὐκ αὐτὸς ἀπεκρίνω σαυτῷ, ὦ Σώκρατες; (‘Why then don’t
you reply to yourself, Socrates?). (11) Anytus replies to Socrates’ question who
should educate Meno (Pl. Meno 92d): τί δὲ αὐτῷ οὐ σὺ ἔφρασας; (‘Why don’t you
tell him yourself?’). The dialogue is fairly polite at this early stage, and Anytus is well
brought up (90b).
(12) Cyrus makes a request to Cyaxares, who has told him that he is certain
that the enemy are approaching (Xen. Cyr. 2.1.4): τί οὖν ... οὐ καὶ τὴν δύναμιν
ἔλεξάς μοι, εἰ οἶσθα, πόση τις ἡ προσιοῦσα, καὶ πάλιν τὴν ἡμετέραν, ὅπως εἰδότες
ἀμφοτέρας πρὸς ταῦτα βουλευώμεθα ὅπως ἂν ἄριστα ἀγωνιζοίμεθα; (‘Why then
don’t you tell me, if you know, how great is the force which is approaching, and also
ours, so that knowing both we may plan in response to this how best we may fight?’).
Nijk reasonably observes: ‘It is unlikely that the young Persian Cyrus would strike an
impatient tone with the Median Cyaxares, the supreme commander of the collected
armed forces’.9 He thinks that the aorist ‘signals that Cyrus would like a complete
8
For the force of καί, see J.D. Denniston, The Greek Particles (Oxford, 19542), 320,
comparing Pl. Phlb. 25b (σὺ καὶ ἐμοὶ φράσεις, ‘You shall tell me’, instead of vice
versa), Resp. 573d; Xen. An. 7.7.10.
9
Nijk (n. 5), 102.
7
account of the armed forces’.10 He contrasts Xen. Cyr. 4.1.11, where an anonymous
soldier makes a suggestion to Cyrus, who has just explained their superiority over the
enemy who have run away during the night: τί οὖν οὐ διώκομεν ὡς τάχιστα,
καταδήλων γε οὕτω τῶν ἀγαθῶν ὄντων; (‘Why then do we not pursue them as
quickly as possible, since the advantages are thus so obvious?’). Nijk argues that the
present is used ‘because the desired chase is naturally presented as unbounded; it is
unclear how long it will take and whether the enemy will be caught’.11 This seems
rather an unlikely nuance for the soldier to import into an urgent suggestion. Why
would anyone making such a proposal want to imply that it is unlikely to have any
useful effect? Cyrus rejects the idea, and the soldiers then make an alternative
proposal: τί οὖν ... οὐκ ἐλθὼν Κυαξάρῃ λέγεις ταῦτα; (‘Why then … do you not go
and tell Cyaxares this?’). There is nothing ‘unbounded’ about the present λέγεις, and
it does indeed seem identical from the point of view of aspect to the request of Cyrus
to Cyaxares with the aorist quoted above (12). Conversely, there are examples of the
aorist in these expressions which really do seem unbounded (e.g. 17).
(13) Socrates has just told an unnamed friend that he has been talking to
Protagoras (Pl. Prt. 310a): ΕΤ. τί οὖν οὐ διηγήσω ἡμῖν τὴν συνουσίαν, εἰ μή σέ τι
κωλύει, καθεζόμενος ἐνταυθί, ἐξαναστήσας τὸν παῖδα τουτονί; ΣΩ. πάνυ μὲν οὖν·
καὶ χάριν γε εἴσομαι, ἐὰν ἀκούητε. ΕΤ. καὶ μὴν καὶ ἡμεῖς σοί, ἐὰν λέγῃς. ΣΩ. διπλῆ
ἂν εἴη ἡ χάρις. (FRIEND: Why then don’t you describe the meeting to us, if there is
nothing to prevent you, moving the slave out of the way and sitting down here?
10
Nijk (n. 5), 103.
11
Nijk (n. 5), 103. Nijk’s other alleged contrast, between the aorist at Pl. Prt. 317d (1)
and the present at Ar. Lys. 1103–4, is open to a similar objection.
8
SOCRATES: I certainly will; and I shall be grateful to you if you listen. FRIEND:
And we to you, if you speak. SOCRATES: The gratitude then would be double’).
This passage, like the next two to be discussed (14, 15), dramatizes the polite
negotiations involved in someone agreeing to give a lengthy verbal performance.
Such a dialogue potentially threatens the negative face of both parties, as neither
wants to impose on the other.
(14) Apollodorus is on his way from Phaleron to the city when he is asked by
Glaucon to tell the story of Agathon’s party (Pl. Symp. 173b): τί οὖν ... οὐ διηγήσω
μοι; πάντως δὲ ἡ ὁδὸς ἡ εἰς ἄστυ ἐπιτηδεία πορευομένοις καὶ λέγειν καὶ ἀκούειν.
(‘Why then don’t you describe it to me? The road to the city is very convenient for
travellers both to speak and to listen’). Dover follows the traditional explanation of
the aorist as impatient, translating ‘Well, go on, tell me’,12 but the context does not
suggest impatience. The point is rather that the walk from Phaleron to the city (three
or four miles) allows suitable leisure for the story.
(15) Menexenus asks Socrates about Aspasia’s funeral speech (Pl. Menex.
236c): ΜΕΝ. ἦ καὶ μνημονεύσαις ἂν ἃ ἔλεγεν ἡ Ασπασία; ΣΩ. εἰ μὴ ἀδικῶ γε·
ἐμάνθάνον γέ τοι παρ᾽ αὐτῆς, καὶ ὀλίγου πληγὰς ἔλαβον ὅτ᾽ ἐπελανθανόμην. ΜΕΝ.
τί οὖν οὐ διῆλθες; (MENEXENUS: Would you remember what Aspasia said?
SOCRATES: If I am not very much mistaken; for I learned it from her, and was
nearly beaten because I kept forgetting. MENEXENUS: Why then don’t you recite
it?). Menexenus treats the older man with considerable respect, and it is only when
Socrates expresses mock reluctance that Menexenus presses him somewhat harder.
12
K.J. Dover (ed.), Plato: Symposium (Cambridge, 1980), 78.
9
(16) Socrates responds to the objection of Simmias (Pl. Phd. 86d): εἰ οὖν τις
ὑμῶν εὐπορώτερος ἑμοῦ, τί οὐκ ἀπεκρίνατο; (‘If any of you is more resourceful
than I am, why doesn’t he answer?’). Burnet writes: ‘the aorist in such questions
expresses impatience’,13 but Socrates is so far from impatient that he postpones his
reply to Simmias and encourages Cebes to make his objection first. He politely gives
the others the opportunity to respond, but the introductory conditional does not
encourage them to do so.
(17) The courtesan Theodote is impressed by Socrates’ advice about snaring
lovers (Xen. Mem. 3.11.15): τί οὖν οὐ σύ μοι ... ἐγένου συνθηρατὴς τῶν φίλων;
(‘Why then do you not become my helper in hunting for friends?’). Each tries to
entice the other.14
The passages discussed so far are all from Plato or Xenophon, and mostly
involve Socrates as either speaker or addressee. This may suggest that the hortative
aorist was a feature of his idiolect, or more broadly of the urbane conversation
represented in the dialogues of these two authors. There are also some examples in
other authors.
(18) Mardonius challenges the Spartans before the battle of Plataea (Hdt.
9.48.4): τί δὴ οὐ πρὸ μὲν τῶν Ἑλλήνων ὑμεῖς, ἐπείτε δεδόξωσθε εἶναι ἄριστοι, πρὸ
δὲ τῶν βαρβάρων ἡμεῖς, ἴσοι πρὸς ἴσους ἀριθμὸν ἐμαχεσάμεθα; (‘Why don’t we
fight with equal numbers on both sides, you on behalf of the Greeks since you have
the reputation of being the bravest, and we Persians on behalf of the barbarians’).
13
J. Burnet (ed.), Plato: Phaedo (Oxford, 1911), 86.
14
On the dialogue in general, see J. Davidson, Courtesans and Fishcakes (London,
1997), 120–9.
10
Flower and Marincola, in their note on the passage, cite Smyth’s view that the aorist
is used ‘to express surprise that something has not been done’, and is thus ‘equivalent
to a command’,15 and this has some plausibility here since immediately before the
quoted passage Mardonius said that he expected that the Spartans would already have
challenged the Persians. On the other hand, Mardonius is no longer complaining
about the Spartans’ prevarication, and is now issuing a highly complimentary formal
challenge.
(19) Hyllus challenges Eurystheus to single combat in order to spare the
Athenians having to fight the Argive army (Eur. Heracl. 805): Ὦ στρατήγ᾽ ὅς Ἀργόθεν
| ἥκεις, τί τήνδε γαῖαν οὐκ εἰάσαμεν ... ; (‘General, who have come from Argos, why
do we not allow this land …?’). A lacuna follows (Kovacs in his Loeb edition
suggests ‘ … and Mycenae be once more at peace?’), but the construction seems
clear, as well as the formal tone. The similarity of context to 18 is striking.
(20) Lysistrata to Lampito (Ar. Lys. 181–2): τί δῆτα ταῦτ᾽ οὐχ ὡς τάχιστα,
Λαμπιτοῖ, | ξυνωμόσαμεν, ὅπως ἂν ἀρρήκτως ἔχῃ; (‘Why then don’t we swear an
oath on this as quickly as possible, Lampito, so that our treaty is unbreakable?’).16
Lysistrata has answered two objections from Lampito about the feasibility of a truce,
so now is the right moment to proceed with it. Henderson suggests that this is
‘virtually an imperative’, 17 but that seems quite the wrong tone. The request is indeed
urgent, but the urgency is not communicated by the aorist: ὡς τάχιστα (‘as quickly as
15
M.A. Flower and J. Marincola (eds.), Herodotus: Histories Book IX (Cambridge,
2002), 196, quoting Smyth (n. 1), §1936.
16
On the ‘logical connective force’ of δῆτα in questions, see Denniston (n. 8), 269.
17
J. Henderson (ed.), Aristophanes: Lysistrata (Oxford, 1987), 90.
11
possible’) is used with the present at Xen. Cyr. 4.1.11 (quoted under 12 above).
‘There is now no further reason to delay’ is not the same as ‘This is overdue’. This is
a formal proposal to a representative of another city, comparable to 18 and 19.
(21) Cinesias pleads with Myrrhine (Ar. Lys. 906): φιλεῖς; τί οὖν οὐ
κατεκλίνης, ὦ Μυρρίον; (‘You love me? Then why don’t you lie down, my little
Myrrhine?’). Cinesias may be impatient, but the tone of this line is ingratiating, as is
shown by the diminutive Μυρρίον. Cf. 4, 17, 22 for the hortative aorist in ingratiating
contexts. Cinesias tries different forms of the verb κατακλίνω: compare κατακλίνηθι
(‘lie down!’, 904) and σὺ δ᾽ οὐ κατακλινεῖ; (‘will you not lie down?’, 910).
(22) Xanthias to Bdelycleon, when there seems to be a moment’s respite from
Philocleon’s attempts to escape (Ar. Vesp. 213): τί οὐκ ἀπεκοιμήθημεν ὅσον ὅσον
στίλην; (‘Why don’t we go to sleep for just a tiny little while?’). MacDowell thinks
the aorist has the sense ‘It’s high time that …’,18 but that would not be an appropriate
way for a slave to address his master. Xanthias employs the common negative
politeness gambit of minimizing the imposition.19
18
D.M. MacDowell (ed.), Aristophanes: Wasps (Oxford, 1971), 160; similarly Z.P.
Biles and S.D. Olson (eds), Aristophanes: Wasps (Oxford, 2015), 154.
19
See P. Brown and S.C. Levinson, Politeness: Some Universals in Language Usage
(Cambridge, 19872), 176–8. The concept of ‘negative politeness’ is useful for
analysing the conversational strategies in these passages, although we might be
inclined to describe 21 and 22 as ingratiating rather than polite. It is an issue in
politeness theory that Brown and Levinson’s treatment of politeness as a universal
human phenomenon does not always capture what is actually regarded as polite in
12
(23) Dicaeopolis taunts Lamachus (Ar. Ach. 591–2): εἰ δ᾽ ἰσχυρὸς εἶ, | τί μ᾽
οὐκ ἀπεψώλησας; εὔοπλος γὰρ εἶ (‘But if you are strong, why don’t you peel me?
For you are well equipped’). There is a humorous contrast in this passage (572–92)
between Dicaeopolis’ mock respect and the increasingly offensive content of what he
says.
(24) A woman addresses Kerdon the cobbler (Herodas 7.77–8): τί τονθορύζεις
κοὐκ ἐλευθέρῃ γλάσσῃ | τὸν τῖμον ὅστις ἐστὶν ἐξεδίφησας; (‘Why don’t you stop
mumbling, and search out the price and tell me clearly?’). Kerdon has been
prevaricating about the price of his wares, but the woman’s assumption is that he
really wants to name it, as indeed he does in the next line. The woman uses two very
obscure words, and the overall effect may be somewhat pretentious.
(25) An isolated line from Aristophanes (Ar. fr. 482 K-A): τί οὐκ ἐκέλευσας
παραφέρειν τὰ ποτήρια; (‘Why don’t you order the drinking cups to be set out?’).
There is not enough context to gauge the tone.
The remaining three examples are often quoted to illustrate the hortative
aorist, but seem significantly different from the passages discussed so far. It is
possible that these striking passages from well-known works influenced the
interpretation of the hortative aorist elsewhere.
(26) Creon cries out in despair (Soph. Ant. 1308–9): τί μ᾽ οὐκ ἀνταίαν |
ἔπαισέν τις ἀμφιθήκτῳ ξίφει; Jebb treats this as a request: ‘Is there none to strike me
to the heart with two-edged sword?’. 20 Moorhouse adopts the traditional view: ‘a
particular societies: see (e.g.) R.J. Watts, Politeness (Cambridge, 2003), 4. Nativespeaker intuitions are in any case unavailable for ancient Greek.
20
R.C. Jebb (ed.), Sophocles: Antigone (Cambridge, 19003), 231.
13
question showing impatience or surprise’, translating ‘why does no one (immediately)
strike me …?’. 21 This impassioned lyric outburst has little in common with the
hortative aorists discussed so far, although 16 provides a parallel for the third person
singular.
(27) Io cries out in despair (Aesch. PV 747–8): τί δῆτ᾽ ἐμοὶ ζῆν κέρδος, ἀλλ᾽
οὐκ ἐν τάχει | ἔρριψ᾽ ἐμαυτὴν τῆσδ᾽ ἀπὸ στύφλου πέτρας ...; (‘What use is life for
me? Why don’t I immediately throw myself from this rugged rock?’). Another lyric
outburst. 28 is the only parallel for first person singular.
(28) The Corinthian messenger addresses Oedipus, who has just said that he
left Corinth through fear of the oracle (Soph. OT 1002–3): τί δῆτ᾽ ἐγὼ οὐχὶ τοὐδε τοῦ
φόβου σ᾽, ἄναξ, | ἐπείπερ εὔνους ἦλθον, ἐξελυσάμην; (‘Why then have I not freed
you from this fear, lord, since I came with good will?’). Moorhouse translates: ‘why
don’t I (at once) deliver you from fear?’,22 but he does not begin to do so for another
fourteen lines which hardly suggests any sense of urgency.
These hortative aorists, apart from the problematic 26–8, are often in explicitly
polite contexts, or otherwise in contexts which can plausibly be interpreted as polite
or related to polite modes of expression. On the other hand, all these passages involve
a threat to the negative face of the addressee. This is not because of any impatience
implied by the aorist, but rather by the other element of these expressions, the
question τί οὐ (‘why not?’) or τί οὖν οὐ (‘then why not?’). Any directive threatens the
negative face of the addressee, and the face threat is exacerbated when there is an
21
A.C. Moorhouse, The Syntax of Sophocles (Mnemosyne Suppl. 75; Leiden, 1982),
196.
22
Moorhouse (n. 21), 196.
14
explicit statement (by means of a connective particle such as οὖν) or implication that
a particular course of action is required by the situation. It should be stressed that this
does not imply that the action in question is overdue.
In five passages (2, 9, 10, 11, 17), the directive is in the form ‘Why don’t you
do it yourself?’, which offers the double face threat of refusing a request and implying
that there is an onus on the addressee to perform the requested action. Three further
examples (13, 14, 15) are requests to someone to tell or story or make a speech. The
speaker needs to steer a path between seeming uninterested and implying something
like ‘Go ahead and tell me, since you obviously want to’. Something of the same sort
seems to be present in 8, where Socrates needs to put on record Critias’ willingness
for him to examine Charmides’ soul without saying anything so crass as ‘since you
obviously want to show him off …’ (also 23, 24). In some other cases (1, 12, 18, 19,
20, 22), the point is that the situation in general requires the addressee to behave in a
particular way. For example, in 12 Cyrus says that now they know that the enemy are
coming it is the precise moment to discuss how to fight them; this is different from
suggesting that such discussion is overdue. Several of the examples in philosophical
dialogue (3, 4, 5, 6, 7) initiate a new line of discussion on the basis that the addressee
has made insufficient progress with the previous one.
There are many polite ways of making a request, but the social challenge in
these cases is to mitigate the negative face threat of pointing out to someone that the
desired course of action is required by the situation. One way is to use an inclusive
first person plural (1, 5, 8, 18, 19, 20, 22). This is a common politeness gambit,23 and
23
See M. Lloyd, ‘Sophocles in the light of face-threat politeness theory’, in I.J.F. de
Jong and A. Rijksbaron (eds), Sophocles and the Greek Language (Mnemosyne
Suppl. 269; Leiden, 2006), 225–239, at 227 n. 4.
15
genuinely co-operative activity is in any case being proposed in these passages. τί οὐ;
with first person plural present can be adequately polite (e.g. Ar. Lys. 1103–4; Pl. Prt.
310e; X. Mem. 3.1.10). On the other hand, τί οὐ or τί οὖν οὐ with the second person
present is clearly face threatening. Lysistrata remonstrates with the Athenians and
Spartans (Ar. Lys. 1161): τί δ᾽ οὐ διηλλάγητε; φέρε, τί τοὐμποδών; (‘Why don’t you
come to an agreement? Come, what is stopping you?); she has announced her
intention as λοιδορῆσαι βούλομαι (‘I want to abuse you’, 1128). The chorus of
Acharnians reluctantly agrees to Dicaeopolis’ proposal to defend himself (Ar. Ach.
358–9): τί οὖν οὐ λέγεις ... ὅ τι ποτ᾽, ὦ σχέτλιε, τὸ μέγα τοῦτ᾽ ἔχεις; (‘Why then,
wretch, don’t you say … whatever this great thing is that you have got?’). The
Sausage Seller addresses Demos (Ar. Eq. 1207–8): τί οὐ διακρίνεις, Δῆμ᾽, ὁπότερός
ἐστι νῷν | ἀνὴρ ἀμείνων περὶ σὲ καὶ τὴν γαστέρα; (‘Why don’t you decide, Demos,
which of us is the better man for you and your stomach?’). Callicles does not want to
answer Socrates (Pl. Grg. 504c): τί δὲ οὐκ αὐτὸς λέγεις, ὦ Σώκρατες; (‘Why don’t
you say yourself, Socrates?’, clearly less polite than 2 and other similar passages with
the aorist discussed above. Socrates’ repeated τί οὐκ ἀποκρίνῃ; (‘Why do you not
answer?’) to Polus (Pl. Grg. 468c, 468d) is face-threatening. Ctesippus says to
Socrates (Pl. Lysis 211d ): τί οὖν ... οὐκ ἐρωτᾷς; (‘Why then don’t you ask him?’).
Ctesippus has just butted rather unceremoniously into the conversation, and the
dialogue as a whole is rather lacking in social graces.
It seems, then, that questions introduced by τί οὐ; or τί οὖν οὐ; tend to threaten
the negative face of the addressee, and this face threat can be mitigated by use of the
inclusive first person plural. This is obviously not possible in cases where the second
person is unavoidable, which include most of the ones discussed here. Second person
present seems always to be impolite. On the other hand, τί οὐ; or τί οὖν οὐ; with
16
hortative aorists generally occur in polite contexts. The only conclusion to be drawn
from this is that the aorist itself serves to mitigate the face threat. This is the opposite
of the traditional interpretation of the hortative aorist, which is that the aorist itself
expresses urgency or impatience. The explanation suggested here is that it is the τί οὐ;
question which is face threatening and the aorist which is polite.
A polite use of the aorist of this kind would be comparable to the ‘attitudinal
past’ in English, used to make verbs expressing volition or mental state more tentative
or polite.24 Brown and Levinson explain how this is polite: ‘As the tense is switched
from present into past, the speaker moves as if into the future, so he distances himself
from the here and now’, quoting as an example ‘I was wondering whether you could
do me a little favour’. They note a similar strategy in Tamil.25 The second person can
be used in a similar way, as one might say ‘Did you want to see me?’ to a nervouslooking student loitering outside one’s office. In Greek, the future (e.g. βουλήσομαι,
αἰτήσομαι) can used for polite requests (for example, Soph. OC 1289; Eur. Alc. 164,
24
See R. Quirk et al., A Comprehensive Grammar of the English Language (London
and New York, 1985), 4.16; 4.37: ‘such forms enable us to avoid the impoliteness
which might well result from expressing one’s attitude too directly’. Cf. S. Chalker
and E. Weiner, The Oxford Dictionary of English Grammar (Oxford, 1994), s.v.
‘social distancing’;
25
Brown and Levinson (n. 19), 204–5; cf. 118–19. Cf. F. Coulmas, ‘Linguistic
etiquette in Japanese society’, in R.J. Watts, S. Ide, K. Ehlich (eds), Politeness in
Language: Studies in its History, Theory and Practice (Berlin and New York, 1992),
299–323. Coulmas (323 n. 12) notes the use of past-tense forms of the verb as a
politeness marker in a northern dialect of Japanese, quoting Mr Tanaka answering the
telephone: ‘Moshi moshi, Tanaka deshita’ (literally, ‘Hello, this was Tanaka’).
17
Med. 259, Heracl. 475).26 The imperfect ἐβουλόμην (without ἄν) is sometimes used
to distance the speaker from an unfulfilled present wish.27 There are of course many
other ways of making suggestions more indirect and thus more polite, but the
distancing effect of the aorist is particularly useful in these hortative cases. It was
argued above that they are not impatient, and in many cases at least it is clear that the
action proposed is in no sense overdue. On the other hand, the τί οὐ; or τί οὖν οὐ;
introduction implies that it is appropriate for the action to be performed at exactly this
moment. This immediacy would be diluted by a more normal form of polite request,
e.g. optative with ἄν.
A parallel for the use of the Greek aorist for polite distancing is supplied by
the ‘tragic’ aorist.28 It might be better to call this the ‘performative’ aorist, which
distinguishes the relevant cases from ‘instantaneous’ uses of the aorist. An example is
Odysseus’s greeting to Silenus (Eur. Cyc. 101): χαίρειν προσεῖπα πρῶτα τὸν
γεραίτατον (‘My greetings to the eldest first’), where the use of the third person is an
additional polite feature which reinforces the effect of comical solemnity. Nijk objects
that treating the aorist as a past here ‘would be confrontational rather than polite: as if
the speaker says “I (have) greet(ed) you whether you like it or not”’.29 This seems
rather arbitrary, and ignores the abundant comparative evidence for the attitudinal
past. Nijk’s own interpretation treats the aorist as a present tense, and the difference
from the present as purely aspectual. Unfortunately, he only offers a single pair of
26
Cf. Kühner-Gerth (n. 3), 1.172–3; Smyth (n. 1), §1913.
27
Cf. Kühner-Gerth (n. 3), 1.205–6; Goodwin (n. 1), § 425; Smyth (n. 1), §1782.
28
For this interpretation, see M. Lloyd, ‘The tragic aorist’, CQ 49 (1999), 23–45.
29
Nijk (n. 5), 98.
18
examples to illustrate his theory, and overlooks the many examples of present tense
performatives.
In a somewhat similar vein, C.L.A. Bary argues that performatives are present
perfectives, for which there is no satisfactory Greek tense since the present indicative
is not perfective and the (perfective) aorist indicative is not present.30 Both present
and aorist are thus, according to her, suboptimal for performatives. The problem is
that her theory implies that present and aorist would be used indifferently throughout
Greek literature for performatives, but in fact the present is overwhelmingly the most
common tense for performatives at all periods and in all genres, including fifthcentury tragedy. There is no evidence that the present was felt as insufficiently
perfective for the purpose. Furthermore, the performative aorist is only used in a
limited stylistic and chronological context, and Bary does nothing to explain why its
usage should be confined in this way. Nor does she explain why the performative
aorist is used in some cases rather than others by those authors who do use it (e.g.
fifth-century tragedians). To take just three verbs, there are no examples in Plato and
Xenophon of the performative aorist of ὄμνυμι (‘I swear’), δέχομαι (‘I accept’), or
ἐπαινῶ (‘I approve’), although there are numerous opportunities in their works for
swearing, accepting, and thanking.
Nijk and Bary offer elegant theoretical constructions, which are internally
consistent and make sense in terms of the principles of the Greek tense system.
Unfortunately, they are contradicted by the evidence. It was argued above that they do
not explain enough, in that there are many examples of actual usage which seem to
contradict them. On the other hand, they also explain too much, particularly in their
discussion of the performative aorist. They integrate it into a general account of the
30
C.L.A. Bary, ‘The ancient Greek tragic aorist revisited’, Glotta 88 (2012), 31–53.
19
Greek aorist so successfully that one would expect it to be much more widespread
than it actually is.
In both the performative and the hortative aorist, the distancing effect of the
aorist makes an utterance more polite, in a manner comparable to the attitudinal past
in other languages. It is notable, however, that these two phenomena tend to appear in
different genres. The performative aorist is mostly confined to fifth-century tragedy,
together with some paratragic examples in Aristophanes. The hortative aorist is most
common in Plato and Xenophon, although there are again a few examples in
Aristophanes. Stephen Colvin objects to the view that the performative aorist is
distinctive of fifth-century tragedy: ‘A problem with the account is that it offers no
explanation of where (which social or literary variety of Greek) the feature
originated’.31 It would indeed be an advantage to be able to offer such an explanation,
but it remains highly likely that many features of conversational Greek are
irretrievably lost, with the result that we are left with fragments of usage in the little
literary dialogue that survives without evidence for the natural conversation which
31
S. Colvin, ‘The instantaneous aorist: the syntax of the agora and the syntax of
Parnassus’, in F. Cortés Gabaudan and J.V. Méndez Dosuna (eds), Dic Mihi, Musa,
Virum (Salamanca, 2010), 113–21, at 116. Colvin’s other objections have no validity
if the discussion is confined specifically to the performative aorist. Even with his
inclusive definition of the ‘instantaneous’ aorist, it is notable that he can cite no
examples in Plato or Xenophon. He suggests that Platonic dialogue ‘lacks the
interactive and reactive features of dramatic dialogue, and the linguistic markers of
(realistic) turn-taking’ (118), but such passages as the beginning of Lysis, to take one
example from many, are likely to be closer to natural dialogue than is the verse of
fifth-century tragedy.
20
might have provided a context. It is striking that Aristophanes, with his acute ear for
dialogue, has both performative and hortative aorists. The performative aorist is used
much more by Euripides than by any other author, and we have seen that the hortative
aorist is associated especially with Socrates. It is possible that these rare usages, while
not invented by them, gained some currency because of the influence of these
prominent individuals.
University College Dublin
MICHAEL LLOYD
[email protected]