The art history of the world makes it clear to us that when the art of a country turns to over-elaboration of detail and mechanical dexterity, when there is a general tendency toward vividness of impression rather than poignancy and vitality of expression, then we have the invariable sign of that decadence which inevitably drifts into revolution of one kind or another.  Lasus (500 B.C.), who, as previously mentioned, was a great flute and lyre player as well as poet, betrays this tendency, which reached its culmination under the Romans.  Lasus was more of a virtuoso than a poet; he introduced into Greece a new and florid style of lyre and harp playing; and it was he who, disliking the guttural Dorian pronunciation of the letter S, wrote many of his choric poems without using this letter once in them.  Pindar, his pupil, followed in his footsteps.  In many of his odes we find intricate metrical devices; for instance, the first line of most of the odes is so arranged metrically that the same order of accents is maintained whether the line be read backward or forward, the short and long syllables falling into exactly the same places in either case.  The line “Hercules, the patron deity of Thebes,” may be taken as an example, [(- ’ ’ ’ — )’( — ’ ’ ’ -)].  Such devices occur all through his poems.  We find in them also that magnificence of diction which is the forerunner of “virtuosity”; for he speaks of his song as “a temple with pillars of gold, gold that glitters like blazing fire in the night time.”

In the hands of Aristophanes (450-380 B.C.), the technique of poetry continued to advance.  In “The Frogs,” “The Wasps,” and “The Birds” are to be found marvels of skill in onomatopoetic[07] verse.  His comedies called for many more actors than the tragedies had required, and the chorus was increased from fifteen to twenty-four.  Purple skins were spread across the stage, and the parabasis (or topical song) and satire vied with the noble lines of Aeschylus and Sophocles for favour with the public.

Meanwhile, as might have been expected, instrumental music became more and more independent, and musicians, especially the flute players, prospered; for we read in Suidas that they were much more proficient and sought after than the lyre and kithara players.  When they played, they stood in a conspicuous place in the centre of the audience.  Dressed in long, feminine, saffron-coloured robes, with veiled faces, and straps round their cheeks to support the muscles of the mouth, they exhibited the most startling feats of technical skill.  Even women became flute players, although this was considered disgraceful.  The Athenians even went so far that they built a temple to the flute player Lamia, and worshipped her as Venus.  The prices paid to these flute players surpassed even those given to virtuosi in modern times, sometimes amounting to more than one thousand dollars a day, and the luxury in which they lived became proverbial.