With the subtle ingenuity of masculine selfishness the Greek dramatist doubles the force of all his fine talk about the “virtuous acts” of wives by representing the women themselves as uttering these maxims and admitting that their function is self-denial—­that woman is altogether an inferior and contemptible being.  “How strange it is,” exclaims Andromache,

“that, though some god has devised cures for mortals against the venom of reptiles, no man ever yet hath discovered aught to cure a woman’s venom, which is far worse than viper’s sting or scorching flame; so terrible a curse are we to mankind.”

Hermione declares: 

“Oh! never, never—­this truth will I repeat—­should men of sense, who have wives, allow women-folks to visit them in their homes, for they teach them mischief; one, to gain some private end, helps to corrupt their honor; another having made a slip herself, wants a companion in misfortune, while many are wantons; and hence it is men’s houses are tainted.  Wherefore keep strict guard upon the portals of your houses with bolts and bars.”

Bolts and bars were what the gallant Greek men kept their wives under, hence this custom too is here slyly justified out of a woman’s mouth.  And thus it goes on throughout the pages of Euripides.  Iphigenia, in one of the two plays devoted to her, declares:  “Not that I shrink from death, if die I must,—­when I have saved thee; no, indeed! for a man’s loss from his family is felt, while a woman’s is of little moment.”  In the other she declares that one man is worth a myriad of Women—­[Greek:  heis g’ anaer kreisson gunaikon murion]—­wherefore, as soon as she realizes the situation at Aulis, she expresses her willingness to be immolated on the altar in order that the war against Troy may no longer be delayed by adverse minds.  She had, however, come for a very different purpose, having been, with her queen mother, inveigled from home under the pretext that Achilles was to make her his wife.  Achilles, however, knew as little of the plot as she did, and he is much surprised when the queen refers to his impending marriage.  A modern poet would have seen here a splendid, seemingly inevitable, opportunity for a story of romantic love.  He would have made Achilles fall in love at sight of Iphigenia and resolve to save her life, if need be at the cost of his own.  What use does Euripides make of this opportunity?  In his play Achilles does not see the girl till toward the close of the tragedy.  He promises her unhappy mother that “never shall thy daughter, after being once called my bride, die by her father’s hand;” But his reason for this is not love for a girl or a chivalrous attitude toward women in distress, but offended vanity.  “It is not to secure a bride that I have spoken thus,” he exclaims; “there be maids unnumbered, eager to have my love—­no! but King Agamemnon has put an insult on me; he should have asked my leave to use my name as a means to catch the child.”  In that case he “would never have refused” to further his fellow-soldiers’ common interest by allowing the maiden to be sacrificed.