DOI Seite / Zitierlink:
https://doi.org/10.11588/diglit.5253#0640
STORY OF LAOCOON. 603
tion of the right arm, found the group to be composed of three different
pieces; and subsequently three other blocks were distinguished. Repetitions
of certain parts of the group exist, but are cither late Roman copies, or, in
some cases, directly traceable to the sixteenth century, when the Vatican
group was greatly admired, and parts of it copied.IlS4 There can, therefore,
be little doubt, that the Vatican Laocoon is the identical work mentioned by
Pliny, as being in Titus' palace; and that his statement, that it was in a single
block, is due to his love of the superlative, is confirmed by the fact that he
makes the same assertion with regard to the Farnese Bull.
The main outlines of the story of Laocoon are obtained by sifting and com-
paring the fragmentary statements of different poets.IlS5 Laocoon was the
priest of Apollo ; but, disregarding the commands of the god, requiring chas-
tity of his servant, became the father of two sons. Not at once did his pun-
ishment overtake him ; but long after, when his children were full grown, he
was visited by two dire serpents, the instruments of divine vengeance. Ac-
cording to the earliest version of the story by Arctinos, the father and younger
son at once fell victims to the venomous monsters, but the eldest son escaped.
Sophocles, however, in his later tragedy, made Laocoon escape ; but Virgil,
widely differing in his Roman version, causes all three to perish, and connects
the story with the fall of Troy. According to this Roman poet, Laocoon ear-
nestly protested against the introduction of the Trojan horse within the city-
walls ; and, hurling his spear at the wooden side, the daring act was answered
by the clang of arms from within. But, by the lies of a Greek spy, the Tro-
jans were led to believe that the horse was a shrine of Athena, and, hence,
that Laocoon was guilty of a sacrilegious act in attacking it. And now deadly
serpents, coming over the main, crushed in their coils the unfortunate patriot;
his terrible fate, and that of his sons, being looked upon by his countrymen as
a miracle worked by the offended goddess. According to this account of Vir-
gil,— which, however, was probably first suggested by the sight of the marble
group, — Laocoon was preparing to offer sacrifice, when the huge serpents, com-
ing from Tenedos, attacked and strangled his children, and then destroyed the
father coming to their rescue. In the celebrated marble group, Laocoon falls
upon the altar, but is not clad in priestly robes or wreathed with laurel, as in a
picture discovered in Pompeii (Fig. 244), where the bull for sacrifice leaps away,
the affrighted Trojans flee, and one son is dead and the other dying. As better
suits the sculptor's art, in the marble, Laocoon is nude, his drapery being laid
over the altar. To his left, is his elder son, still resisting, and concerned for
his father; to the right, is the younger son, sinking in death. But no inter-
change of look or feeling, except in the upward glance of the elder son, unites
the thought of the three, although they are externally knotted together in the
slimy coils of the reptiles. One of these binds the arm of the elder son,
passes across the father's back, and, doubtless, held his right arm, which
tion of the right arm, found the group to be composed of three different
pieces; and subsequently three other blocks were distinguished. Repetitions
of certain parts of the group exist, but are cither late Roman copies, or, in
some cases, directly traceable to the sixteenth century, when the Vatican
group was greatly admired, and parts of it copied.IlS4 There can, therefore,
be little doubt, that the Vatican Laocoon is the identical work mentioned by
Pliny, as being in Titus' palace; and that his statement, that it was in a single
block, is due to his love of the superlative, is confirmed by the fact that he
makes the same assertion with regard to the Farnese Bull.
The main outlines of the story of Laocoon are obtained by sifting and com-
paring the fragmentary statements of different poets.IlS5 Laocoon was the
priest of Apollo ; but, disregarding the commands of the god, requiring chas-
tity of his servant, became the father of two sons. Not at once did his pun-
ishment overtake him ; but long after, when his children were full grown, he
was visited by two dire serpents, the instruments of divine vengeance. Ac-
cording to the earliest version of the story by Arctinos, the father and younger
son at once fell victims to the venomous monsters, but the eldest son escaped.
Sophocles, however, in his later tragedy, made Laocoon escape ; but Virgil,
widely differing in his Roman version, causes all three to perish, and connects
the story with the fall of Troy. According to this Roman poet, Laocoon ear-
nestly protested against the introduction of the Trojan horse within the city-
walls ; and, hurling his spear at the wooden side, the daring act was answered
by the clang of arms from within. But, by the lies of a Greek spy, the Tro-
jans were led to believe that the horse was a shrine of Athena, and, hence,
that Laocoon was guilty of a sacrilegious act in attacking it. And now deadly
serpents, coming over the main, crushed in their coils the unfortunate patriot;
his terrible fate, and that of his sons, being looked upon by his countrymen as
a miracle worked by the offended goddess. According to this account of Vir-
gil,— which, however, was probably first suggested by the sight of the marble
group, — Laocoon was preparing to offer sacrifice, when the huge serpents, com-
ing from Tenedos, attacked and strangled his children, and then destroyed the
father coming to their rescue. In the celebrated marble group, Laocoon falls
upon the altar, but is not clad in priestly robes or wreathed with laurel, as in a
picture discovered in Pompeii (Fig. 244), where the bull for sacrifice leaps away,
the affrighted Trojans flee, and one son is dead and the other dying. As better
suits the sculptor's art, in the marble, Laocoon is nude, his drapery being laid
over the altar. To his left, is his elder son, still resisting, and concerned for
his father; to the right, is the younger son, sinking in death. But no inter-
change of look or feeling, except in the upward glance of the elder son, unites
the thought of the three, although they are externally knotted together in the
slimy coils of the reptiles. One of these binds the arm of the elder son,
passes across the father's back, and, doubtless, held his right arm, which