UNIVERSITY OF CALGARY
Treacherous Ties: a Comparative Look at Betrayal in the Norse Myths of the Völsungs and
Euripides' House of Atreus Plays
by
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
© Dhanya Baird 2016
Abstract
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.
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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
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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
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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
1
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.
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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.
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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
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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).
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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
7
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.
8
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,
9
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 (2425). 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
10
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
11
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
12
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).
13
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.
14
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).
“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).
8
17
seen, for example, in Ion, when Ion asks, of Apollo, “παρθένους βίᾳ γαµῶν/ προδίδωσι;” (43738).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
20
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
18
“Feel pride in your scepter, then, when you have betrayed your brother!” (Euripides Iphigenia at Aulis 412).
“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 (SelfDelusion 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 (SelfDelusion 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
24
(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.
25
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 lifesaving 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).
“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).
24
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;
28
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.
29
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;
30
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
<Menelaus
The god is wise in keeping clear of blame. >
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
35
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
36
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
31
“It was not with a crown that your wife greeted you or with the garlands of victory” (Euripides Electra 163-64).
“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.
39
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 selfreproach. 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 (1157233). 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 157).
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,
45
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.
46
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).
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,
39
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].)
48
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
49
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,
50
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
51
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
54
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])
55
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
50
“There lies Regin plotting to himself,/ he wants to betray the boy, the one who trusts him” (Larrington Edda 163).
“Regin betrayed me, he’ll betray you, he’ll be the death of us both” (Larrington Edda 161).
58
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
59
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 inlaws 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
61
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
63
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).
64
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
65
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
66
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.
“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).
56
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
68
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
69
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).
70
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).
71
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
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“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).
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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
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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.
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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
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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).
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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,
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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
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“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).
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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).
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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
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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
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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.
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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).
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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;/
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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).
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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
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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.
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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 9495). 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
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“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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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
90
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,
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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
94
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 Selfpunishment 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).
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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
104
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.
105
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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).
121
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
122
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 105759).
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).
123
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.
124
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).
126
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).
127
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:
128
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,
129
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).
130
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).
131
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 80809).
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 122829).
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).
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Example d.
Χορός
οὕτω δὴ τὸν ἐν Ἰλίῳ
ναὸν καὶ θυόεντα βωµὸν 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).
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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).
156
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).
157
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).
158