He survives only in one brief passage of doubtful authen-
ticity, which however strikes a note most characteristic of his guild
in every age.
ticity, which however strikes a note most characteristic of his guild
in every age.
Warner - World's Best Literature - v19 - Oli to Phi
""
But save for one small coin, with which we had meant to buy
pease and beans, we were penniless. So not to lose our hold,
nor run the risk of letting slip the better bargain, we came down
in the price of the cloak As soon as we had unfolded our mer-
chandise, the woman, who with covered head had been stand-
ing at the peasant's side, grasped the garment with both hands,
screaming at the top of her voice that she had caught her thieves.
In response, for the sake of doing something, though we were
horribly frightened, we seized the torn and dirty mantle, and with
equal energy announced that it was our property. But our case
was weaker than theirs by far, and the crowd, which ran up at the
noise, enjoyed a hearty laugh at our expense; seeing that the oth-
ers were claiming a splendid garment, and we one that was dirty
and covered with patches. When they had had their laugh out,
Ascyltos said, "You see a man loves his own best: let them give
us back our mantle and take their cloak. " This bargain suited
both the peasant and the woman; but up came two sheriffs — two
night-hawks, rather-and wanted to appropriate the cloak. They
demanded that both garments should be deposited with them,
saying the judge would decide on the merits of the case the fol-
lowing day. And they said moreover that the real question was,
against which party a charge of theft could be brought. They
had all but settled on confiscating the goods; and a man in the
crowd, bald, with pimply forehead, who had something to do with
the courts, took hold of the cloak and declared that he would
produce it the following day. It was clear that their real object.
was to get hold of the cloak and share it among themselves,
feeling sure that we would not dare to present ourselves in court.
True enough too, and so the case was speedily settled; for the
angry peasant, disgusted at our making such a fuss about a mass
of patches, threw the mantle in Ascyltos's face and ordered him
to hand over the cloak, the only ground of dispute. Our treas-
ure once more in our hands, we hurried away to the tavern, and
## p. 11392 (#616) ##########################################
11392
PETRONIUS ARBITER
behind closed doors had a good laugh at the sharpness of the
peasant and the crowd, who had combined by their cleverness to
get us back our money.
Translated for A Library of the World's Best Literature by L. P. D.
TRIMALCHIO'S REMINISCENCES
TRI
RIMALCHIO now turned his beaming countenance in our direc-
tion. "If you don't like the wine," said he, "I will change
it. Your drink must suit you. Praise be to the gods.
don't buy it, for all that pleases your palate comes from a certain
country-place of mine, which I have not yet visited. They say
it lies between Terracina and Taranto. My present purpose is to
add Sicily to my other estates, so that if I should want to go to
Africa, I might keep to my own property on the journey. But
tell me, Agamemnon, what was the subject of your discussion
to-day? for though I am no lawyer, still I have acquired all
the principles of a polite education; and to prove that I keep up
my studies, learn that I have three libraries, one Greek and two
Latin. So give me the peroration of your address. "
When Agamemnon had begun, "Two men, one rich and one
poor, were enemies — » "What is poor? » demands Trimalchio.
"Neat point! " exclaims Agamemnon, and went on to give some
sort of a learned dissertation. Presently Trimalchio interrupted
him. "If the subject in hand," says he, "be fact, there is no
room for argument; if not fact, then it is nothing at all. "
As we received these and such-like statements with the warm-
est expressions of approval, he proceeded: "Pray, my dear Aga-
memnon, do you remember by any chance the twelve labors of
Hercules, or anything about the story of Ulysses,-as for exam-
ple, how the Cyclops dislocated his thumb with a paint-brush? I
used to read Homer when I was a boy, and at Cumæ I saw
with my own eyes the Sibyl hung up in a glass bottle; and when
the boys said to her, 'What do you want, Sibyl? ' she used to
answer, 'I want to die. '
Translated for 'A Library of the World's Best Literature' by L. P. D.
## p. 11393 (#617) ##########################################
PETRONIUS ARBITER
11393
LAUDATOR TEMPORIS ACTI
HEN said Ganymede: -"You're talking in the air, and nobody
gives a thought to the famine which threatens us. By Her-
cules! I haven't been able to get a crumb of bread to-day.
And why not? The long drought. Why, I've been on short
rations for a year now! The ædiles-curse 'em! -are in league
with the bakers. 'One good turn deserves another,' is their
motto; and so the poor toil on, and the jaws that crush them
make one long holiday. Oh, if we only had some of those
valiant defenders, such as I found here when first I came from
Asia. That was living. This sort of thing had been going
on in the interior of Sicily: there had been a drought as though
Jupiter were in a rage with the Sicilians. But I remember Safi.
nius; when I was a boy he lived by the old arch. What a keen
tongue the man had! Wherever he went, he caused a flare-up!
But he was an upright man, on whom you could depend.
who stood by his friends—with whom you could play morra in
the dark. But when he spoke in the Senate! How he dealt
his adversaries one after another a knock-down blow: he didn't
talk in the air, either, but went straight to the point. When he
was pleading at the bar his voice would peal out like a trum-
pet; but he never got hot or had to clear his throat. He had
a certain something of us Asiatics about him, you see. And
how kindly he was! always returned your bow! never forgot a
name! Just like one of us! By the same token, when he was
ædile, living was dirt-cheap. Two men couldn't get to the end
of a penny loaf; while those you get for the same price nowa-
days are about as a bull's eye. These are bad times; this colony
is growing backwards like a calf's tail. And why not? We have a
good-for-nothing ædile, who would rather gain a penny than save
one of our lives. He lives high, and makes more in one day
than all another man's fortune. I know what brought him in at
thousand nummi in gold; but if we were any good, we should
make him laugh out of the other side of his mouth. But we are
all alike, brave as lions at home, timid as a fox abroad. As
for me, I've eaten my wardrobe, and if the scarcity continues
I shall sell my little cottage. For what will become of us if
neither god nor man has compassion on this colony? I wish I
may starve if I don't believe it all comes from the gods! For
XIX-713
## p. 11394 (#618) ##########################################
11394
PETRONIUS ARBITER
nobody believes in heaven any longer; nobody keeps the fasts;
nobody cares a straw for Jove: but all shut their eye to every-
thing but their possessions. In olden times the women used to
go barefoot to the Capitol, their hair loose and their thoughts
pure, and implore Jupiter the god of Rain; and immediately the
water would come down in bucketfuls, and all laughed with joy.
Never a bit of it now! The feet of the women are shod, and
the feet of the gods are slow; it's because we don't keep up our
religious ceremonies that the fields lie waste. "
"Come now," said Echion, the rag-man, "be a little more
complimentary! 'Here we go up, and here we go down! ' as
the peasant said when he lost his spotted pig. What to-day is
not, will be to-morrow. Such is life. By Hercules! our country
would be all right, if it had any men in it. It's passing through
a crisis just now. And that's not the whole of it. We ought to
take things as we find them: the zenith is always overhead. If
you were in another land, you would say that here the pigs
walked round all ready roasted. And we are to have a fine treat
in three days' time on the feast-day; none of your professional
gladiators, but a lot of freedmen. Our friend Titus has a warm
heart and a clever head. He's got something or other up his
sleeve. I ought to know, for I'm a great friend of his. He's no
sparer of flesh: he will give them good swords and no quarter;
the spectators will have a solid heap of dead in their midst: and
he can afford it. His father left him a million and a half. Sup-
pose he spends twenty thousand: his fortune won't feel it, and
his name will live forever. "
Translated for A Library of the World's Best Literature by L. P. D.
>
THE MASTER OF THE FEAST
IN THE best of humors, Trimalchio began:-"My friends, even
slaves are men, and suck the same milk as ourselves, though
ill-luck keeps them down in the world. And by my life!
they shall soon drink of the water of freedom. In short, I have
set them all free in my will. I have given, besides, a farm to
Philagyras, and the woman who lives with him, and to Carrio a
whole block of buildings free of taxes, and a bed with bedding.
Fortunata I make my residuary legatee, and I recommend her to
the care of all my friends; and I make these facts known that
## p. 11395 (#619) ##########################################
PETRONIUS ARBITER
11395
my slaves may love me as well now as though I were already.
dead. "
All began to express their gratitude to their indulgent master.
He took it with perfect seriousness; and ordered a copy of his
will to be brought, which he repeated from the first word to the
last, amid the groans of his household. Then, turning towards
Habinnas, "Promise, my dearest friend," said he, "that you will
build my monument according to my directions. Let there be a
little dog at the feet of my statue, and deck it with garlands and
perfumes, and paint about it all the incidents of my life; so by
your kindness, though dead, I shall still live. Moreover, I want
my lot to have a hundred feet frontage, and be two hundred feet
deep. I want you to plant all kinds of apple-trees about my
ashes, and plenty of grape-vines. For it is wrong to beautify the
homes of the living only, and neglect those abodes where we are
sure to make a longer stay. And so I beg you, above all things,
to set up a notice: This monument does not pass to the heir. '
Moreover, I will provide in my will against any insult being
offered my remains: I will put one of my freedmen in charge
of my sepulchre, whose business shall be to see that no nuisance
is committed there. I beg you put ships on my monument, going
under full sail, and my likeness, clad in robes of state, and sitting
on the tribune's seat, with fine gold rings on my fingers, and
scattering a bagful of money among the crowd;-you recollect
when I gave a public entertainment and two denarii apiece to the
guests all round. And pray have a dining-room, and all the folks
enjoying themselves! At my right hand you must put a statue
of my beloved Fortunata holding a dove, and leading a small
dog by a leash; and have my Cicaro represented, and some big
jars tightly sealed, so the wine cannot possibly run out; and
see that they carve a broken urn with a boy weeping over it.
Finally you must put a timepiece in the centre, so that whoever
looks up to learn the hour will have no choice but to read my
name. "
At this point Trimalchio began to weep; Fortunata and Habin-
nas also burst out sobbing, and all the slaves followed suit, till
the dining-room resounded with lamentations, as though they
were all at a funeral. I also was preparing to burst into tears,
when Trimalchio checked me by the remark, "Well then, since
we know that we must die, why not live while we may? "
Translated for 'A Library of the World's Best Literature' by L. P. D.
## p. 11396 (#620) ##########################################
11396
PETRONIUS ARBITER
ON DREAMS
THE
HE dreams that tease us with their phantoms eerie
Come not from holy shrine nor heavenly space,
But from within. Sleep stays the limbs a-weary,
The truant spirit goes its wanton ways.
Deeds of the day, deeds of the dark. The warrior
Sees hosts in flight and hapless towns on fire;
The monarch slain confronts his fell destroyer,
Amid a weltering waste of blood-stained mire
The Forum's all-triumphant pleader trembles
Before the law, or frets within the bar;
The miser his unearthed gold assembles,
And baying hounds the huntsman call afar;
The sinking seaman grasps the vessel keeling,
The courtesan indites a billet-doux,
The debauchee counts out his coin unwilling,
The very dogs in dreams their hare pursue.
Translated for 'A Library of the World's Best Literature by H. W. P.
EPITAPH ON A FAVORITE HUNTING-DOG
(ATTRIBUTED TO PETRONIUS ARBITER)
N^
ATIVE of Gaul was I, and the name they gave me was Cockle,
After a white sea-shell. I was beautiful too,
Ay, and brave! I would scour the darkest depths of the forest,
Or upon desolate hill startle the quarry hirsute.
Never was need at all of ugly chains to withhold me,
Never an insolent lash wounded my snowy skin;
Softly I used to lie in the lap of my lord or my lady,
Or on the high state bed, when I came panting home.
Even my bark, men said, awoke no terror insensate:
Only a poor dumb beast, yet with a speech of my own!
Nevertheless the doom ordained from my birthday o'ertook me,
Wherefore I sleep in earth under this tiny stone.
Translated for 'A Library of the World's Best Literature by H. W. P.
## p. 11397 (#621) ##########################################
11397
PHILEMON
(361-263 B. C. )
MENANDER
(342-291 B. C. )
AND THE LOST ATTIC COMEDY
BY WILLIAM CRANSTON LAWTON
RAGMENTARY and tantalizing as is the flotsam and jetsam
drifted to us from the wreck of Greek civilization, we can
yet say, of the literary masterpieces at least, that we have
almost always a fair selection from the best in each kind. The bit-
terest loss is in lyric poetry. Probably most lovers of the old life
would be tempted to give up even Pindar's cold and resounding
splendor to recover the love songs of Sappho.
In the case of comedy, there can be no doubt that Aristopha-
nes was the one exuberantly original genius, whose lonely height has
been reached since then only twice at most: by Molière, and by the
myriad-sided creator of Jack Falstaff, Caliban, and Bottom the weaver.
If Attic comedy could have but one representative surviving in the
modern world, there was no one to contest the right of Aristophanes.
And yet his very originality, his elemental creativeness, mocks the
patient student who attempts to cite from him historical data, traits
of manners, or even usages of the theatre! Nothing in his comic
world walks our earth, or breathes our heavier air. We may as
well appeal for mere facts to the adventurous Alice.
In a memorable passage at the close of Plato's 'Symposium,' after
all the other banqueters are asleep, Socrates forces Aristophanes and
the tragic poet Agathon-much against the will of both-to concede
that their two arts are one, and that he who is a master artist in
comedy can create tragedy no less. Though this seems to us like
a marvelous foreshadowing of Shakespeare, it probably was in fact
suggested to Plato by a process which he must have seen already
far advanced; namely, the rapid approximation of the two dramatic
forms to each other, until they were practically fused in the realistic
melodrama, the comedy of manners. This creation is chiefly asso-
ciated by the Athenians themselves with the long happy career of
Philemon, though later ages preferred his younger and briefer-lived
rival Menander.
## p. 11398 (#622) ##########################################
11398
PHILEMON, MENANDER, ETC.
These authors of comedy were right, however, in regarding as their
chief master Euripides, who brought the dramatist's art down from
its pedestal. He made his characters essentially human, realistic, even
contemporary, in all save names and costumes. With his fussy nurses
and quibbling slaves the comedy of manners begins. These later
men, to be sure,-deprived of the dramatic chorus and expensive
equipment generally, discarding the tragic cothurnus, set to face an
audience utterly weary, or incredulous, of divine and heroic myths. -
did hold the mirror up, far more frankly than Euripides dared, to the
rather artificial and ignoble social conditions about them. Euripides,
moreover, even in an age of religious doubt and political despair.
retained a generous portion of Eschylus's noble aspiration, united
with a creative fancy almost Aristophanic. Little indeed of either
could survive the final fall of Athenian freedom.
Menander and Philemon catered to the diversion of
a refined,
quick-witted, degenerate folk, with very limited political power, and
of petty social aims; perhaps best comparable, superficially, to Lon-
don under the second Charles, but quite without the latent forces
which lay dormant beneath England's ignominy. Doubtless even
the courtly life of London had always more virtue and strength than
Congreve and Vanbrugh concede. Athens, even a century after Cha-
ronea, can hardly have been so contemptible a microcosm as the
comedies depict.
These comedies are known to us chiefly through the rough and
rollicking adaptations of Plautus- the more polished, and perhaps
truer, versions of Terence. We agree heartily with Professor Lodge,
that both these Latin playwrights set before us Greek, not Roman,
life. The "gags" and local hits, in which comedy must always
indulge, make no essential exception. They are almost inevitable,
indeed, whether the mimic scene claims to represent Plato's ideal
republic or Pluto's shadowy realm.
I offer here a handful of original translations, from the copious
fragments still surviving. They will at least give a glimpse of the
infinitely greater wealth lying deep beneath "the tide whose waves
are years. " The sources from which we must draw, however, are
most unsatisfying. Athenæus in his 'Banqueters' assures us he had
read eight hundred plays of the Middle Comedy,' or transition period
alone (about 400-336 B. C. ). He cites from them hundreds of times,-
but almost solely to verify the existence of a rare tidbit or a dainty
sauce! This indicates, of course,- as J. A. Symonds reminds us,-
not that poets and people were livelong epicures, but that such a
mass of realistic drama contained abundant material to illustrate any
and every side of Athenian life. The sober Stobæus and his scrap-
book, again, would give us the impression that brief moral sermons,
--
## p. 11399 (#623) ##########################################
PHILEMON, MENANDER, ETC.
11399
3
with an occasional thrust at the professional philosophers, were the
chief staple of the comic dialogue; but this is of course no less mis-
leading. Yet these two are our chief authorities! We again advise
the English reader to peruse first the 'Trinummus' and the 'Andria,'
at least. There he can mark for himself both sorts of passages,—
wise saws and curious sauces,- and can see also that both together
are but part of the seasoning in the general dish that was set before
the greedy Demos!
It will be noticed that the earlier fragments represent (or rather,
grievously misrepresent) contemporaries of Aristophanes, often placed
above him by the judges and by the fickle Athenians generally. It
is hard to believe their judgment well founded. Still, a single com-
edy of Eupolis, recovered from that unexhausted Egyptian storehouse,
may come, any day, to prove that much of what we have thought
was unique Aristophanic invention was but traditional commonplace
on the high table-land of Attic imagination.
SUSARION
Susarion, the father of Attic comedy, is assigned to the sixth cen-
tury B. C.
He survives only in one brief passage of doubtful authen-
ticity, which however strikes a note most characteristic of his guild
in every age.
H
WOMEN
EAR, oh ye people! This Susarion saith,
Son of Philinus out of Megara:-
We cannot without evil have a home:
For both to wed, and not to wed, are ill!
The next half-dozen passages are from fifth-century poets.
TELECLIDES
THE AGE OF Gold
IN THE first place, Peace was as plentiful then as water is now for
washing,
And the Earth no terror nor illness produced, but whatever men
craved in abundance.
For every stream ran full with wine, and the loaves with the biscuits
contended
Which first should enter the mouths of the folk, beseeching that men
would devour them,
## p. 11400 (#624) ##########################################
11400
PHILEMON, MENANDER, ETC.
If they were desirous of dainties white; and the fishes came to the
houses,
And broiling themselves they served themselves on platters upon the
tables;
At the side of the couches ran rivers of soup, with hot sliced meat
in the current;
The quails ready broiled and laid upon toast straight into mers
mouths came flying. -
In those days men were exceedingly portly, a
terrible people d
giants.
CRATINUS
Of Cratinus we hear something from his successful rival, Aris
tophanes. A single couplet may serve to recall his notorious weak-
ness.
INE is a swift-footed steed for the minstrel, giver of pleasure:
WIN
But nothing fine a water-drinker brings to lig ren
bat
aft
HERMIPPUS
A
The following passage from Hermippus, beginning with
verse, is really important for the light it throws on Attic im
owerful
bold political allusion or two will remind us how free and p
a critic Comedy then was.
Homeric
ports. A
IMPORTS OF ATHENS
TEL
ELL me, ye Muses, now, who hold your Olympian dwellings,
Whence Dionysus comes, as he sails over wine-colored waters
What are the goods men bring in black ships hither to harb
Out of Cyrene the cauliflower comes, and hides of the oxen;
Out of Italia ribs of beef and grain in abundance;
Syracuse sends us cheese, and pork she furnishes also.
As to the Corcyræans, we pray that Poseidon destroy them
Utterly, vessels and all, for the treacherous heart that is in them! -
Rhodes provides us raisins, and figs that invite unto slumber.
Slaves from Phrygia come, but out of Arcadia, allies!
Carthage, finally, sends to us carpets, and cushions resplendent.
From the same play we have a loving disquisition on choice
wines, ending quite like our modern toast, "Champagne for our real
friends, and real pain for our sham friends! "
## p. 11401 (#625) ##########################################
PHILEMON, MENANDER, ETC.
11401
THE BEST WINES
Ο
OVE
VER the Thasian wine there hovers the odor of apples;
This I account by far most perfect, above all others,-
Saving only the faultless and painless liquor of Chios.
Yet there is also a certain wine, men Saprian name it:
Whensoever from off its jar the cover is taken,
Then there arises the odor of hyacinth, violets, roses;
Glorious fragrance, filling the high-roofed palace entirely:-
That is a nectar indeed; ambrosia and nectar together!
This is the wine for my friends;-Peparethian proffer my foe-
men!
F
EUPOLIS
Our single citation from Eupolis again illustrates the freedom with
which the poets assailed each other, especially in the 'Parabasis,'
or interlude where they spoke in their own proper character. This
passage is supposed to be aimed at Aristophanes, as a poet not born
in Athens. Eupolis's quotation from his rival was probably accompa-
nied by a gesture, pointing out Aristophanes in the audience.
HONOR TO HOME TALENT
-
IRST I ask in my defense:
How have you been taught to think the foreign poets mas-
ters all?
But if any native-born, and noway less than they in wit,
Undertake the poet's craft, and hope to win himself a prize,
"He is mad and frenzied in his mind! " so run thy words!
Hearken unto me, my people. Change your feeling. Grudge it not
If a youth, one of yourselves, shall take delight in poesy.
EULOGY ON SOPHOCLES
F
ORTUNATE Sophocles! His life was long,-
An artist still, and happy, to the last.
Many the noble tragedies he wrought
Blessed his end. No sorrow he endured.
PHRYNICHUS
Phrynichus, the comic poet, is best known to us for his tender
tribute to Sophocles! It will be remembered that even Aristophanes,
in the 'Frogs,' dares not ridicule for a moment the lamented and
popular tragic poet.
## p. 11402 (#626) ##########################################
11402
PHILEMON, MENANDER, ETC.
T
ALEXIS
The whole period of Middle Comedy is more than
the amazingly long life of Alexis, from 393 to 287 B. C.
life as a brief passing show is characteristic of the decadence, and is
repeated far more impressively by Menander.
VANITY FAIR
HIS is a mere excursion we enjoy,
We who are living, who are but released
As for some festival - from death and gloom.
For our diversion we to light are sent,-
This light of life; and whoso laughs and drinks
And loves the most, in the brief time we here
May tarry, and at the banquet wins him so
The prize,-he best contented hies him home!
covered by
His view of
The next four authors cited also belong to the fourth century.
AMPHIS
LIFE AND DEATH
H
DR
RINK, and play! for life is mortal; brief the time on earth we
spend:
But eternal death will be, when once that life shall find an end!
-
ANAXANDRIDES
HEALTH, BEAUTY, WEALTH
HOE'ER he was that made the drinking-song,
W
Who put health first, as though it were the best,
So far, was right;—but second he set beauty,
And riches third! There he, you see, was daft;
For after health is wealth the chiefest thing,—
A handsome starveling is a wretched beast!
ANTIPHANES
THE COMIC POET'S GRIEVANCES
APPY in every way the lot
Of tragic poets! First, because the tale
Is perfectly to the spectators known,
Ere aught is said. The poet only need
## p. 11403 (#627) ##########################################
PHILEMON, MENANDER, ETC.
11403
Remind them: for if I say "Edipus,"
Why, all the rest they know.
Besides, when they have nothing more to say,
Then like a finger their machine they raise,
And that suffices for their audience.
Nothing of this have we, but everything
We must invent: new names, each circumstance,
Present conditions, the catastrophe,
The episodes. If one be overlooked,
Chremes and Pheidon hiss us from the stage.
TIMOCLES
OFFICE OF TRAGEDY
M
AN is a creature doomed to weary toil,
And many sorrows life itself contains.
As consolation to our anxious thoughts
Is this devised. The soul forgets her woes,
Led to oblivion by an alien grief.
With pleasure, and made wiser, she departs.
The tragic poets, then, consider well,
How much they help us.
For each who sees a trouble, heavier far
Than he has suffered, fall on other men,
Lamenteth less his own calamity.
PHILEMON
From Philemon's ninety-eight years and ninety-seven plays sur-
prisingly little remains. The prologue of the Trinummus,' however,
says expressly:-
"PHILEMON wrote it: Plautus rendered it
In barbarous speech. "
The Plautine 'Mercator,' also, is a translation from the Greek poet.
His gentle nature and rather commonplace yet polished style may be
indicated by the five passages here chosen.
PEACE IS HAPPINESS
T IS a question of philosophers,
I'
So have I heard, whereon much time is spent,-
One
What is the real Good. None find it.
Says Virtue; and another Prudence. I,
## p. 11404 (#628) ##########################################
11404
PHILEMON, MENANDER, ETC.
Who in the country dwell, and dig the earth,
Have found it: it is Peace! O dearest Zeus,
How loving is the goddess, and how kind!
Marriages, festivals, kin, children, friends,
Food, wine, health, riches, happiness, she gives.
And if of all these things we are deprived,
Dead is the life of men while yet they live!
TEARS
F LAMENTATION were the cure of grief,
I
And he were freed from sorrow who laments,
Then would we proffer gold to purchase tears!
But now, our destiny doth pay no heed
Thereto, my lord, but ever goes its way,
The same, if thou give way to grief or no.
What boots it? Nothing! Yet our sorrow brings
The tear, as fitly as the tree her fruit!
TYRANNY OF CUSTOM
H, TREBLY blessed, trebly happy are
The beasts, who have no thought of things like
these!
For never one of them is criticized,
Nor have they any artificial woes.
Unlivable the life we men must live:
The slaves of custom, subject unto law,
Bound to posterity and ancestry,—
So have we no escape from misery.
O"
DIVERSITY OF CHARACTER
HY, pray, did he who made us, as 'tis told,
And all the beasts besides,- Prometheus,— give
To other animals one nature each ?
WHY
For full of courage are the lions all,
And every hare, again, is timorous.
One fox is not of crafty spirit, one
Straightforward; but if you shall bring together
Three times ten thousand foxes, you will find
One character is common to them all.
But we, so many as our bodies are,
No less diverse our natures you will find.
## p. 11405 (#629) ##########################################
PHILEMON, MENANDER, ETC.
11405
MENANDER
In his interesting chapter on the lost comedies, Mr. Symonds ex-
pressly renounces the attempt to translate from Menander, whom he
gives an extremely lofty place as the "Sophocles of comedy. " This
is perhaps an allusion to Matthew Arnold's famous characterization of
the tragic poet,
"Who saw life steadily, and saw it whole. »
Menander, as was almost inevitable in his age, saw life as a rather
trifling and swift-passing show, hardly worth any violent expression
of delight or grief. It was an age of outlived enthusiasm and lost
ideals. Even in this fading twilight, Athens was still the fairest and
richest of cities, a true university of books, statues, and temples: but
her heroic men were only a memory.
All Terence's comedies, save the Phormio,' are based on lost plays
of Menander. Of direct Roman allusion they contain hardly anything.
The one plot is, to be sure, in several cases, skillfully framed from
two Greek dramas; but the adapter's own contribution need have
been little more than a graceful Latin style. Professor Lindsay seems
to claim much more originality for the Roman author; and the prob-
lem cannot be definitely solved, save by the recovery of Menander's
own scrolls.
In his comparatively brief life Menander surpassed his chief rival
in fruitfulness, leaving a hundred comedies. His popularity also must
have come quickly after death. Though he gained only eight prizes,
the fragments from his plays are by far the most copious of all,
amounting to two thousand four hundred verses. Tantalizing as these
bits are, they fully justify the exclamation of a famous Alexandrian
scholar: "O Menander, and Life, which of you has imitated the
other? " Goethe, also, counted the tolerant, philosophic Greek poet
among his chief teachers.
DESERT A BEGGAR BORN
F SOME divinity should say to me,-
I'
www
"Crato, when you have died, you shall again
Be born; and shall be what you please,- dog, sheep,
Or goat, man, horse,- but live again you must:
That is your destiny. Choose what you will:"
"Anything rather," I methinks would say,
"Make me, but man! Unjustly happiness
And sorrow fall to him, and him alone.
The horse that's excellent has better care
Than does another; if a dog prove good,
He is more prized than is the baser hound.
## p. 11406 (#630) ##########################################
11406
PHILEMON, MENANDER, ETC.
The valiant cock hath better sustenance,
The ignoble is in terror of the brave.
But man, if he be good, yea, excellent
And noble,- that avails not, nowadays.
The flatterer fares the best of all, and next
The sycophant; while third the rogue is found.
Rather an ass I'd spend my life, than see
Men worse than I in higher honor set! "
MONOTONY
THA
HAT man I count most happy, Parmeno,
Who, after he has viewed the splendors here,
Departeth quickly, whither he hath come.
This common sun, I mean, stars, waters, clouds,
And fire, these shall he see if he abide
A century, or if his years be few;
Nor aught more glorious shall he see than they.
O
_______
THE CLAIMS OF LONG DESCENT
UR family! 'Twill be the death of me!
Pray, if you love me, mother, harp no more
Upon our family! 'Tis they to whom
Nature accords no other excellence
Who trust to monuments, or high descent,
And count how many ancestors were theirs!
Nor have they more than all men:
Who doth live
That had not grandsires? Else how came he here?
And if he cannot name them, 'tis some change
Of home, or lack of friends, accounts for this;
And wherein is he worse than those who boast?
He who is fitted for heroic deeds,
Mother, although he be an African,
Or savage Scythian,- he is noble born.
Was Anacharsis not a Scythian?
THE POOR RELATION GOES A-VISITING
I
HAD supposed that rich men, Phanias,
Who pay no interest, did not thus lament
The whole night through, nor tossing to and fro
Cry "Woe is me"; but sweetly took their rest,
While only beggars had such miseries.
## p. 11407 (#631) ##########################################
PHILEMON, MENANDER, ETC.
11407
But now I see you, who are called of men
The fortunate, behaving like ourselves.
Is Worry, then, to life so close akin?
She clings to luxury; the illustrious man
She leaves not; - with the poor she waxes old!
Ο
THE MISERY OF TYRANNY
H, UTTERLY accurst!
How pitiful the life they waste, their guards
Always about them, pent in citadels,
And ever ready to suspect that each
Who comes hath in his hand a dagger hid:
How bitter are the penalties they pay!
KNOWLEDGE
F
OR many reasons 'tis unwisely said
To know thyself: more profitable it is
To know thy neighbors!
APHORISMS
TH
HE boldest man, if conscious of his guilt,
Is by that conscience made most cowardly.
THE heavy stone that from the hand is hurled
We cannot check, nor word that leaves the tongue.
THE envious man is foeman to himself;
In self-wrought worriment fast-bound he stands.
HE WHO Condemns before he fairly hears,
Himself is guilty-for credulity.
IF ALL to each would lend a helpful hand,
Good fortune would be lacking then for none.
GRIEVOUS indeed has been our error, when
We are ashamed to tell the deed we do.
THRICE wretched, who by his economies
Hath hoarded hatred doubling all his wealth.
I NEVER envied much the wealthy man,
Who nothing can enjoy of what he keeps.
'Tis not the quantity we drink that marks
The drunkard, but our own capacity!
## p. 11408 (#632) ##########################################
11408
PHILEMON, MENANDER, ETC.
THERE is no remedy for wrath, it seems,-
Unless it be a friend's unflinching word.
WHO would command, and is not soldier-bred,
Leads forth but sacrifices to the foe.
The total mass of these comic fragments (chiefly from the Mid-
dle and New Comedy) is extremely large. They are most accessible
in two volumes of the Didot series, Fragmenta Comicorum' and
'Aristophanes, etc. ' The latter volume includes most of Menander
and Philemon. There is added a Latin translation, with helpful
These estrays have not been translated into English,- and as
a whole perhaps hardly deserve to be; but a most vivid picture of
the Attic fourth century could be reconstructed from them, and num-
berless exquisite bits of pure poetry still glimmer in the dust.
notes.
Altogether, there is hardly another terra incognita so rich as this,
lying so close outside the beaten track of classical scholarship. F. A
Paley, toward the end of his laborious life, made a rather flippant
little volume of rhymed versions from the 'Fragmenta Comicorum. '
Symonds, in the chapter mentioned above, has some good versions.
Of Menander many of the finest sustained passages were rendered
by Francis Fawkes, in the free Johnsonian fashion of the last century.
But the field lies fallow.
The term "comedy" is, as we have tried to illustrate in the cita-
tions, rather too narrow. Plautus's 'Rudens,' a romantic tale of ship-
wreck, may well remind us of Shakespeare's 'Tempest' or 'Winter's
Tale'; his 'Captives' is in its essential plot a story of heroic sacri
fice for friendship's sake, like the 'Merchant of Venice. ' The Greek
originals of such plays may have formed a transitional class of roman-
tic dramas, not precisely tragic, and by no means essentially comic.
This was doubtless especially true of the "Middle" period, when
Athens had not forgotten her more heroic past, nor renounced her
freedom forever. Agathon's 'Flower,' again, may have been rather
a melodramatic opera than a drama. In general, our traditional types
are entirely too few and too rigid to include the numberless master-
pieces of the Attic imagination.
Wizziam
Cranston Lawions
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But save for one small coin, with which we had meant to buy
pease and beans, we were penniless. So not to lose our hold,
nor run the risk of letting slip the better bargain, we came down
in the price of the cloak As soon as we had unfolded our mer-
chandise, the woman, who with covered head had been stand-
ing at the peasant's side, grasped the garment with both hands,
screaming at the top of her voice that she had caught her thieves.
In response, for the sake of doing something, though we were
horribly frightened, we seized the torn and dirty mantle, and with
equal energy announced that it was our property. But our case
was weaker than theirs by far, and the crowd, which ran up at the
noise, enjoyed a hearty laugh at our expense; seeing that the oth-
ers were claiming a splendid garment, and we one that was dirty
and covered with patches. When they had had their laugh out,
Ascyltos said, "You see a man loves his own best: let them give
us back our mantle and take their cloak. " This bargain suited
both the peasant and the woman; but up came two sheriffs — two
night-hawks, rather-and wanted to appropriate the cloak. They
demanded that both garments should be deposited with them,
saying the judge would decide on the merits of the case the fol-
lowing day. And they said moreover that the real question was,
against which party a charge of theft could be brought. They
had all but settled on confiscating the goods; and a man in the
crowd, bald, with pimply forehead, who had something to do with
the courts, took hold of the cloak and declared that he would
produce it the following day. It was clear that their real object.
was to get hold of the cloak and share it among themselves,
feeling sure that we would not dare to present ourselves in court.
True enough too, and so the case was speedily settled; for the
angry peasant, disgusted at our making such a fuss about a mass
of patches, threw the mantle in Ascyltos's face and ordered him
to hand over the cloak, the only ground of dispute. Our treas-
ure once more in our hands, we hurried away to the tavern, and
## p. 11392 (#616) ##########################################
11392
PETRONIUS ARBITER
behind closed doors had a good laugh at the sharpness of the
peasant and the crowd, who had combined by their cleverness to
get us back our money.
Translated for A Library of the World's Best Literature by L. P. D.
TRIMALCHIO'S REMINISCENCES
TRI
RIMALCHIO now turned his beaming countenance in our direc-
tion. "If you don't like the wine," said he, "I will change
it. Your drink must suit you. Praise be to the gods.
don't buy it, for all that pleases your palate comes from a certain
country-place of mine, which I have not yet visited. They say
it lies between Terracina and Taranto. My present purpose is to
add Sicily to my other estates, so that if I should want to go to
Africa, I might keep to my own property on the journey. But
tell me, Agamemnon, what was the subject of your discussion
to-day? for though I am no lawyer, still I have acquired all
the principles of a polite education; and to prove that I keep up
my studies, learn that I have three libraries, one Greek and two
Latin. So give me the peroration of your address. "
When Agamemnon had begun, "Two men, one rich and one
poor, were enemies — » "What is poor? » demands Trimalchio.
"Neat point! " exclaims Agamemnon, and went on to give some
sort of a learned dissertation. Presently Trimalchio interrupted
him. "If the subject in hand," says he, "be fact, there is no
room for argument; if not fact, then it is nothing at all. "
As we received these and such-like statements with the warm-
est expressions of approval, he proceeded: "Pray, my dear Aga-
memnon, do you remember by any chance the twelve labors of
Hercules, or anything about the story of Ulysses,-as for exam-
ple, how the Cyclops dislocated his thumb with a paint-brush? I
used to read Homer when I was a boy, and at Cumæ I saw
with my own eyes the Sibyl hung up in a glass bottle; and when
the boys said to her, 'What do you want, Sibyl? ' she used to
answer, 'I want to die. '
Translated for 'A Library of the World's Best Literature' by L. P. D.
## p. 11393 (#617) ##########################################
PETRONIUS ARBITER
11393
LAUDATOR TEMPORIS ACTI
HEN said Ganymede: -"You're talking in the air, and nobody
gives a thought to the famine which threatens us. By Her-
cules! I haven't been able to get a crumb of bread to-day.
And why not? The long drought. Why, I've been on short
rations for a year now! The ædiles-curse 'em! -are in league
with the bakers. 'One good turn deserves another,' is their
motto; and so the poor toil on, and the jaws that crush them
make one long holiday. Oh, if we only had some of those
valiant defenders, such as I found here when first I came from
Asia. That was living. This sort of thing had been going
on in the interior of Sicily: there had been a drought as though
Jupiter were in a rage with the Sicilians. But I remember Safi.
nius; when I was a boy he lived by the old arch. What a keen
tongue the man had! Wherever he went, he caused a flare-up!
But he was an upright man, on whom you could depend.
who stood by his friends—with whom you could play morra in
the dark. But when he spoke in the Senate! How he dealt
his adversaries one after another a knock-down blow: he didn't
talk in the air, either, but went straight to the point. When he
was pleading at the bar his voice would peal out like a trum-
pet; but he never got hot or had to clear his throat. He had
a certain something of us Asiatics about him, you see. And
how kindly he was! always returned your bow! never forgot a
name! Just like one of us! By the same token, when he was
ædile, living was dirt-cheap. Two men couldn't get to the end
of a penny loaf; while those you get for the same price nowa-
days are about as a bull's eye. These are bad times; this colony
is growing backwards like a calf's tail. And why not? We have a
good-for-nothing ædile, who would rather gain a penny than save
one of our lives. He lives high, and makes more in one day
than all another man's fortune. I know what brought him in at
thousand nummi in gold; but if we were any good, we should
make him laugh out of the other side of his mouth. But we are
all alike, brave as lions at home, timid as a fox abroad. As
for me, I've eaten my wardrobe, and if the scarcity continues
I shall sell my little cottage. For what will become of us if
neither god nor man has compassion on this colony? I wish I
may starve if I don't believe it all comes from the gods! For
XIX-713
## p. 11394 (#618) ##########################################
11394
PETRONIUS ARBITER
nobody believes in heaven any longer; nobody keeps the fasts;
nobody cares a straw for Jove: but all shut their eye to every-
thing but their possessions. In olden times the women used to
go barefoot to the Capitol, their hair loose and their thoughts
pure, and implore Jupiter the god of Rain; and immediately the
water would come down in bucketfuls, and all laughed with joy.
Never a bit of it now! The feet of the women are shod, and
the feet of the gods are slow; it's because we don't keep up our
religious ceremonies that the fields lie waste. "
"Come now," said Echion, the rag-man, "be a little more
complimentary! 'Here we go up, and here we go down! ' as
the peasant said when he lost his spotted pig. What to-day is
not, will be to-morrow. Such is life. By Hercules! our country
would be all right, if it had any men in it. It's passing through
a crisis just now. And that's not the whole of it. We ought to
take things as we find them: the zenith is always overhead. If
you were in another land, you would say that here the pigs
walked round all ready roasted. And we are to have a fine treat
in three days' time on the feast-day; none of your professional
gladiators, but a lot of freedmen. Our friend Titus has a warm
heart and a clever head. He's got something or other up his
sleeve. I ought to know, for I'm a great friend of his. He's no
sparer of flesh: he will give them good swords and no quarter;
the spectators will have a solid heap of dead in their midst: and
he can afford it. His father left him a million and a half. Sup-
pose he spends twenty thousand: his fortune won't feel it, and
his name will live forever. "
Translated for A Library of the World's Best Literature by L. P. D.
>
THE MASTER OF THE FEAST
IN THE best of humors, Trimalchio began:-"My friends, even
slaves are men, and suck the same milk as ourselves, though
ill-luck keeps them down in the world. And by my life!
they shall soon drink of the water of freedom. In short, I have
set them all free in my will. I have given, besides, a farm to
Philagyras, and the woman who lives with him, and to Carrio a
whole block of buildings free of taxes, and a bed with bedding.
Fortunata I make my residuary legatee, and I recommend her to
the care of all my friends; and I make these facts known that
## p. 11395 (#619) ##########################################
PETRONIUS ARBITER
11395
my slaves may love me as well now as though I were already.
dead. "
All began to express their gratitude to their indulgent master.
He took it with perfect seriousness; and ordered a copy of his
will to be brought, which he repeated from the first word to the
last, amid the groans of his household. Then, turning towards
Habinnas, "Promise, my dearest friend," said he, "that you will
build my monument according to my directions. Let there be a
little dog at the feet of my statue, and deck it with garlands and
perfumes, and paint about it all the incidents of my life; so by
your kindness, though dead, I shall still live. Moreover, I want
my lot to have a hundred feet frontage, and be two hundred feet
deep. I want you to plant all kinds of apple-trees about my
ashes, and plenty of grape-vines. For it is wrong to beautify the
homes of the living only, and neglect those abodes where we are
sure to make a longer stay. And so I beg you, above all things,
to set up a notice: This monument does not pass to the heir. '
Moreover, I will provide in my will against any insult being
offered my remains: I will put one of my freedmen in charge
of my sepulchre, whose business shall be to see that no nuisance
is committed there. I beg you put ships on my monument, going
under full sail, and my likeness, clad in robes of state, and sitting
on the tribune's seat, with fine gold rings on my fingers, and
scattering a bagful of money among the crowd;-you recollect
when I gave a public entertainment and two denarii apiece to the
guests all round. And pray have a dining-room, and all the folks
enjoying themselves! At my right hand you must put a statue
of my beloved Fortunata holding a dove, and leading a small
dog by a leash; and have my Cicaro represented, and some big
jars tightly sealed, so the wine cannot possibly run out; and
see that they carve a broken urn with a boy weeping over it.
Finally you must put a timepiece in the centre, so that whoever
looks up to learn the hour will have no choice but to read my
name. "
At this point Trimalchio began to weep; Fortunata and Habin-
nas also burst out sobbing, and all the slaves followed suit, till
the dining-room resounded with lamentations, as though they
were all at a funeral. I also was preparing to burst into tears,
when Trimalchio checked me by the remark, "Well then, since
we know that we must die, why not live while we may? "
Translated for 'A Library of the World's Best Literature' by L. P. D.
## p. 11396 (#620) ##########################################
11396
PETRONIUS ARBITER
ON DREAMS
THE
HE dreams that tease us with their phantoms eerie
Come not from holy shrine nor heavenly space,
But from within. Sleep stays the limbs a-weary,
The truant spirit goes its wanton ways.
Deeds of the day, deeds of the dark. The warrior
Sees hosts in flight and hapless towns on fire;
The monarch slain confronts his fell destroyer,
Amid a weltering waste of blood-stained mire
The Forum's all-triumphant pleader trembles
Before the law, or frets within the bar;
The miser his unearthed gold assembles,
And baying hounds the huntsman call afar;
The sinking seaman grasps the vessel keeling,
The courtesan indites a billet-doux,
The debauchee counts out his coin unwilling,
The very dogs in dreams their hare pursue.
Translated for 'A Library of the World's Best Literature by H. W. P.
EPITAPH ON A FAVORITE HUNTING-DOG
(ATTRIBUTED TO PETRONIUS ARBITER)
N^
ATIVE of Gaul was I, and the name they gave me was Cockle,
After a white sea-shell. I was beautiful too,
Ay, and brave! I would scour the darkest depths of the forest,
Or upon desolate hill startle the quarry hirsute.
Never was need at all of ugly chains to withhold me,
Never an insolent lash wounded my snowy skin;
Softly I used to lie in the lap of my lord or my lady,
Or on the high state bed, when I came panting home.
Even my bark, men said, awoke no terror insensate:
Only a poor dumb beast, yet with a speech of my own!
Nevertheless the doom ordained from my birthday o'ertook me,
Wherefore I sleep in earth under this tiny stone.
Translated for 'A Library of the World's Best Literature by H. W. P.
## p. 11397 (#621) ##########################################
11397
PHILEMON
(361-263 B. C. )
MENANDER
(342-291 B. C. )
AND THE LOST ATTIC COMEDY
BY WILLIAM CRANSTON LAWTON
RAGMENTARY and tantalizing as is the flotsam and jetsam
drifted to us from the wreck of Greek civilization, we can
yet say, of the literary masterpieces at least, that we have
almost always a fair selection from the best in each kind. The bit-
terest loss is in lyric poetry. Probably most lovers of the old life
would be tempted to give up even Pindar's cold and resounding
splendor to recover the love songs of Sappho.
In the case of comedy, there can be no doubt that Aristopha-
nes was the one exuberantly original genius, whose lonely height has
been reached since then only twice at most: by Molière, and by the
myriad-sided creator of Jack Falstaff, Caliban, and Bottom the weaver.
If Attic comedy could have but one representative surviving in the
modern world, there was no one to contest the right of Aristophanes.
And yet his very originality, his elemental creativeness, mocks the
patient student who attempts to cite from him historical data, traits
of manners, or even usages of the theatre! Nothing in his comic
world walks our earth, or breathes our heavier air. We may as
well appeal for mere facts to the adventurous Alice.
In a memorable passage at the close of Plato's 'Symposium,' after
all the other banqueters are asleep, Socrates forces Aristophanes and
the tragic poet Agathon-much against the will of both-to concede
that their two arts are one, and that he who is a master artist in
comedy can create tragedy no less. Though this seems to us like
a marvelous foreshadowing of Shakespeare, it probably was in fact
suggested to Plato by a process which he must have seen already
far advanced; namely, the rapid approximation of the two dramatic
forms to each other, until they were practically fused in the realistic
melodrama, the comedy of manners. This creation is chiefly asso-
ciated by the Athenians themselves with the long happy career of
Philemon, though later ages preferred his younger and briefer-lived
rival Menander.
## p. 11398 (#622) ##########################################
11398
PHILEMON, MENANDER, ETC.
These authors of comedy were right, however, in regarding as their
chief master Euripides, who brought the dramatist's art down from
its pedestal. He made his characters essentially human, realistic, even
contemporary, in all save names and costumes. With his fussy nurses
and quibbling slaves the comedy of manners begins. These later
men, to be sure,-deprived of the dramatic chorus and expensive
equipment generally, discarding the tragic cothurnus, set to face an
audience utterly weary, or incredulous, of divine and heroic myths. -
did hold the mirror up, far more frankly than Euripides dared, to the
rather artificial and ignoble social conditions about them. Euripides,
moreover, even in an age of religious doubt and political despair.
retained a generous portion of Eschylus's noble aspiration, united
with a creative fancy almost Aristophanic. Little indeed of either
could survive the final fall of Athenian freedom.
Menander and Philemon catered to the diversion of
a refined,
quick-witted, degenerate folk, with very limited political power, and
of petty social aims; perhaps best comparable, superficially, to Lon-
don under the second Charles, but quite without the latent forces
which lay dormant beneath England's ignominy. Doubtless even
the courtly life of London had always more virtue and strength than
Congreve and Vanbrugh concede. Athens, even a century after Cha-
ronea, can hardly have been so contemptible a microcosm as the
comedies depict.
These comedies are known to us chiefly through the rough and
rollicking adaptations of Plautus- the more polished, and perhaps
truer, versions of Terence. We agree heartily with Professor Lodge,
that both these Latin playwrights set before us Greek, not Roman,
life. The "gags" and local hits, in which comedy must always
indulge, make no essential exception. They are almost inevitable,
indeed, whether the mimic scene claims to represent Plato's ideal
republic or Pluto's shadowy realm.
I offer here a handful of original translations, from the copious
fragments still surviving. They will at least give a glimpse of the
infinitely greater wealth lying deep beneath "the tide whose waves
are years. " The sources from which we must draw, however, are
most unsatisfying. Athenæus in his 'Banqueters' assures us he had
read eight hundred plays of the Middle Comedy,' or transition period
alone (about 400-336 B. C. ). He cites from them hundreds of times,-
but almost solely to verify the existence of a rare tidbit or a dainty
sauce! This indicates, of course,- as J. A. Symonds reminds us,-
not that poets and people were livelong epicures, but that such a
mass of realistic drama contained abundant material to illustrate any
and every side of Athenian life. The sober Stobæus and his scrap-
book, again, would give us the impression that brief moral sermons,
--
## p. 11399 (#623) ##########################################
PHILEMON, MENANDER, ETC.
11399
3
with an occasional thrust at the professional philosophers, were the
chief staple of the comic dialogue; but this is of course no less mis-
leading. Yet these two are our chief authorities! We again advise
the English reader to peruse first the 'Trinummus' and the 'Andria,'
at least. There he can mark for himself both sorts of passages,—
wise saws and curious sauces,- and can see also that both together
are but part of the seasoning in the general dish that was set before
the greedy Demos!
It will be noticed that the earlier fragments represent (or rather,
grievously misrepresent) contemporaries of Aristophanes, often placed
above him by the judges and by the fickle Athenians generally. It
is hard to believe their judgment well founded. Still, a single com-
edy of Eupolis, recovered from that unexhausted Egyptian storehouse,
may come, any day, to prove that much of what we have thought
was unique Aristophanic invention was but traditional commonplace
on the high table-land of Attic imagination.
SUSARION
Susarion, the father of Attic comedy, is assigned to the sixth cen-
tury B. C.
He survives only in one brief passage of doubtful authen-
ticity, which however strikes a note most characteristic of his guild
in every age.
H
WOMEN
EAR, oh ye people! This Susarion saith,
Son of Philinus out of Megara:-
We cannot without evil have a home:
For both to wed, and not to wed, are ill!
The next half-dozen passages are from fifth-century poets.
TELECLIDES
THE AGE OF Gold
IN THE first place, Peace was as plentiful then as water is now for
washing,
And the Earth no terror nor illness produced, but whatever men
craved in abundance.
For every stream ran full with wine, and the loaves with the biscuits
contended
Which first should enter the mouths of the folk, beseeching that men
would devour them,
## p. 11400 (#624) ##########################################
11400
PHILEMON, MENANDER, ETC.
If they were desirous of dainties white; and the fishes came to the
houses,
And broiling themselves they served themselves on platters upon the
tables;
At the side of the couches ran rivers of soup, with hot sliced meat
in the current;
The quails ready broiled and laid upon toast straight into mers
mouths came flying. -
In those days men were exceedingly portly, a
terrible people d
giants.
CRATINUS
Of Cratinus we hear something from his successful rival, Aris
tophanes. A single couplet may serve to recall his notorious weak-
ness.
INE is a swift-footed steed for the minstrel, giver of pleasure:
WIN
But nothing fine a water-drinker brings to lig ren
bat
aft
HERMIPPUS
A
The following passage from Hermippus, beginning with
verse, is really important for the light it throws on Attic im
owerful
bold political allusion or two will remind us how free and p
a critic Comedy then was.
Homeric
ports. A
IMPORTS OF ATHENS
TEL
ELL me, ye Muses, now, who hold your Olympian dwellings,
Whence Dionysus comes, as he sails over wine-colored waters
What are the goods men bring in black ships hither to harb
Out of Cyrene the cauliflower comes, and hides of the oxen;
Out of Italia ribs of beef and grain in abundance;
Syracuse sends us cheese, and pork she furnishes also.
As to the Corcyræans, we pray that Poseidon destroy them
Utterly, vessels and all, for the treacherous heart that is in them! -
Rhodes provides us raisins, and figs that invite unto slumber.
Slaves from Phrygia come, but out of Arcadia, allies!
Carthage, finally, sends to us carpets, and cushions resplendent.
From the same play we have a loving disquisition on choice
wines, ending quite like our modern toast, "Champagne for our real
friends, and real pain for our sham friends! "
## p. 11401 (#625) ##########################################
PHILEMON, MENANDER, ETC.
11401
THE BEST WINES
Ο
OVE
VER the Thasian wine there hovers the odor of apples;
This I account by far most perfect, above all others,-
Saving only the faultless and painless liquor of Chios.
Yet there is also a certain wine, men Saprian name it:
Whensoever from off its jar the cover is taken,
Then there arises the odor of hyacinth, violets, roses;
Glorious fragrance, filling the high-roofed palace entirely:-
That is a nectar indeed; ambrosia and nectar together!
This is the wine for my friends;-Peparethian proffer my foe-
men!
F
EUPOLIS
Our single citation from Eupolis again illustrates the freedom with
which the poets assailed each other, especially in the 'Parabasis,'
or interlude where they spoke in their own proper character. This
passage is supposed to be aimed at Aristophanes, as a poet not born
in Athens. Eupolis's quotation from his rival was probably accompa-
nied by a gesture, pointing out Aristophanes in the audience.
HONOR TO HOME TALENT
-
IRST I ask in my defense:
How have you been taught to think the foreign poets mas-
ters all?
But if any native-born, and noway less than they in wit,
Undertake the poet's craft, and hope to win himself a prize,
"He is mad and frenzied in his mind! " so run thy words!
Hearken unto me, my people. Change your feeling. Grudge it not
If a youth, one of yourselves, shall take delight in poesy.
EULOGY ON SOPHOCLES
F
ORTUNATE Sophocles! His life was long,-
An artist still, and happy, to the last.
Many the noble tragedies he wrought
Blessed his end. No sorrow he endured.
PHRYNICHUS
Phrynichus, the comic poet, is best known to us for his tender
tribute to Sophocles! It will be remembered that even Aristophanes,
in the 'Frogs,' dares not ridicule for a moment the lamented and
popular tragic poet.
## p. 11402 (#626) ##########################################
11402
PHILEMON, MENANDER, ETC.
T
ALEXIS
The whole period of Middle Comedy is more than
the amazingly long life of Alexis, from 393 to 287 B. C.
life as a brief passing show is characteristic of the decadence, and is
repeated far more impressively by Menander.
VANITY FAIR
HIS is a mere excursion we enjoy,
We who are living, who are but released
As for some festival - from death and gloom.
For our diversion we to light are sent,-
This light of life; and whoso laughs and drinks
And loves the most, in the brief time we here
May tarry, and at the banquet wins him so
The prize,-he best contented hies him home!
covered by
His view of
The next four authors cited also belong to the fourth century.
AMPHIS
LIFE AND DEATH
H
DR
RINK, and play! for life is mortal; brief the time on earth we
spend:
But eternal death will be, when once that life shall find an end!
-
ANAXANDRIDES
HEALTH, BEAUTY, WEALTH
HOE'ER he was that made the drinking-song,
W
Who put health first, as though it were the best,
So far, was right;—but second he set beauty,
And riches third! There he, you see, was daft;
For after health is wealth the chiefest thing,—
A handsome starveling is a wretched beast!
ANTIPHANES
THE COMIC POET'S GRIEVANCES
APPY in every way the lot
Of tragic poets! First, because the tale
Is perfectly to the spectators known,
Ere aught is said. The poet only need
## p. 11403 (#627) ##########################################
PHILEMON, MENANDER, ETC.
11403
Remind them: for if I say "Edipus,"
Why, all the rest they know.
Besides, when they have nothing more to say,
Then like a finger their machine they raise,
And that suffices for their audience.
Nothing of this have we, but everything
We must invent: new names, each circumstance,
Present conditions, the catastrophe,
The episodes. If one be overlooked,
Chremes and Pheidon hiss us from the stage.
TIMOCLES
OFFICE OF TRAGEDY
M
AN is a creature doomed to weary toil,
And many sorrows life itself contains.
As consolation to our anxious thoughts
Is this devised. The soul forgets her woes,
Led to oblivion by an alien grief.
With pleasure, and made wiser, she departs.
The tragic poets, then, consider well,
How much they help us.
For each who sees a trouble, heavier far
Than he has suffered, fall on other men,
Lamenteth less his own calamity.
PHILEMON
From Philemon's ninety-eight years and ninety-seven plays sur-
prisingly little remains. The prologue of the Trinummus,' however,
says expressly:-
"PHILEMON wrote it: Plautus rendered it
In barbarous speech. "
The Plautine 'Mercator,' also, is a translation from the Greek poet.
His gentle nature and rather commonplace yet polished style may be
indicated by the five passages here chosen.
PEACE IS HAPPINESS
T IS a question of philosophers,
I'
So have I heard, whereon much time is spent,-
One
What is the real Good. None find it.
Says Virtue; and another Prudence. I,
## p. 11404 (#628) ##########################################
11404
PHILEMON, MENANDER, ETC.
Who in the country dwell, and dig the earth,
Have found it: it is Peace! O dearest Zeus,
How loving is the goddess, and how kind!
Marriages, festivals, kin, children, friends,
Food, wine, health, riches, happiness, she gives.
And if of all these things we are deprived,
Dead is the life of men while yet they live!
TEARS
F LAMENTATION were the cure of grief,
I
And he were freed from sorrow who laments,
Then would we proffer gold to purchase tears!
But now, our destiny doth pay no heed
Thereto, my lord, but ever goes its way,
The same, if thou give way to grief or no.
What boots it? Nothing! Yet our sorrow brings
The tear, as fitly as the tree her fruit!
TYRANNY OF CUSTOM
H, TREBLY blessed, trebly happy are
The beasts, who have no thought of things like
these!
For never one of them is criticized,
Nor have they any artificial woes.
Unlivable the life we men must live:
The slaves of custom, subject unto law,
Bound to posterity and ancestry,—
So have we no escape from misery.
O"
DIVERSITY OF CHARACTER
HY, pray, did he who made us, as 'tis told,
And all the beasts besides,- Prometheus,— give
To other animals one nature each ?
WHY
For full of courage are the lions all,
And every hare, again, is timorous.
One fox is not of crafty spirit, one
Straightforward; but if you shall bring together
Three times ten thousand foxes, you will find
One character is common to them all.
But we, so many as our bodies are,
No less diverse our natures you will find.
## p. 11405 (#629) ##########################################
PHILEMON, MENANDER, ETC.
11405
MENANDER
In his interesting chapter on the lost comedies, Mr. Symonds ex-
pressly renounces the attempt to translate from Menander, whom he
gives an extremely lofty place as the "Sophocles of comedy. " This
is perhaps an allusion to Matthew Arnold's famous characterization of
the tragic poet,
"Who saw life steadily, and saw it whole. »
Menander, as was almost inevitable in his age, saw life as a rather
trifling and swift-passing show, hardly worth any violent expression
of delight or grief. It was an age of outlived enthusiasm and lost
ideals. Even in this fading twilight, Athens was still the fairest and
richest of cities, a true university of books, statues, and temples: but
her heroic men were only a memory.
All Terence's comedies, save the Phormio,' are based on lost plays
of Menander. Of direct Roman allusion they contain hardly anything.
The one plot is, to be sure, in several cases, skillfully framed from
two Greek dramas; but the adapter's own contribution need have
been little more than a graceful Latin style. Professor Lindsay seems
to claim much more originality for the Roman author; and the prob-
lem cannot be definitely solved, save by the recovery of Menander's
own scrolls.
In his comparatively brief life Menander surpassed his chief rival
in fruitfulness, leaving a hundred comedies. His popularity also must
have come quickly after death. Though he gained only eight prizes,
the fragments from his plays are by far the most copious of all,
amounting to two thousand four hundred verses. Tantalizing as these
bits are, they fully justify the exclamation of a famous Alexandrian
scholar: "O Menander, and Life, which of you has imitated the
other? " Goethe, also, counted the tolerant, philosophic Greek poet
among his chief teachers.
DESERT A BEGGAR BORN
F SOME divinity should say to me,-
I'
www
"Crato, when you have died, you shall again
Be born; and shall be what you please,- dog, sheep,
Or goat, man, horse,- but live again you must:
That is your destiny. Choose what you will:"
"Anything rather," I methinks would say,
"Make me, but man! Unjustly happiness
And sorrow fall to him, and him alone.
The horse that's excellent has better care
Than does another; if a dog prove good,
He is more prized than is the baser hound.
## p. 11406 (#630) ##########################################
11406
PHILEMON, MENANDER, ETC.
The valiant cock hath better sustenance,
The ignoble is in terror of the brave.
But man, if he be good, yea, excellent
And noble,- that avails not, nowadays.
The flatterer fares the best of all, and next
The sycophant; while third the rogue is found.
Rather an ass I'd spend my life, than see
Men worse than I in higher honor set! "
MONOTONY
THA
HAT man I count most happy, Parmeno,
Who, after he has viewed the splendors here,
Departeth quickly, whither he hath come.
This common sun, I mean, stars, waters, clouds,
And fire, these shall he see if he abide
A century, or if his years be few;
Nor aught more glorious shall he see than they.
O
_______
THE CLAIMS OF LONG DESCENT
UR family! 'Twill be the death of me!
Pray, if you love me, mother, harp no more
Upon our family! 'Tis they to whom
Nature accords no other excellence
Who trust to monuments, or high descent,
And count how many ancestors were theirs!
Nor have they more than all men:
Who doth live
That had not grandsires? Else how came he here?
And if he cannot name them, 'tis some change
Of home, or lack of friends, accounts for this;
And wherein is he worse than those who boast?
He who is fitted for heroic deeds,
Mother, although he be an African,
Or savage Scythian,- he is noble born.
Was Anacharsis not a Scythian?
THE POOR RELATION GOES A-VISITING
I
HAD supposed that rich men, Phanias,
Who pay no interest, did not thus lament
The whole night through, nor tossing to and fro
Cry "Woe is me"; but sweetly took their rest,
While only beggars had such miseries.
## p. 11407 (#631) ##########################################
PHILEMON, MENANDER, ETC.
11407
But now I see you, who are called of men
The fortunate, behaving like ourselves.
Is Worry, then, to life so close akin?
She clings to luxury; the illustrious man
She leaves not; - with the poor she waxes old!
Ο
THE MISERY OF TYRANNY
H, UTTERLY accurst!
How pitiful the life they waste, their guards
Always about them, pent in citadels,
And ever ready to suspect that each
Who comes hath in his hand a dagger hid:
How bitter are the penalties they pay!
KNOWLEDGE
F
OR many reasons 'tis unwisely said
To know thyself: more profitable it is
To know thy neighbors!
APHORISMS
TH
HE boldest man, if conscious of his guilt,
Is by that conscience made most cowardly.
THE heavy stone that from the hand is hurled
We cannot check, nor word that leaves the tongue.
THE envious man is foeman to himself;
In self-wrought worriment fast-bound he stands.
HE WHO Condemns before he fairly hears,
Himself is guilty-for credulity.
IF ALL to each would lend a helpful hand,
Good fortune would be lacking then for none.
GRIEVOUS indeed has been our error, when
We are ashamed to tell the deed we do.
THRICE wretched, who by his economies
Hath hoarded hatred doubling all his wealth.
I NEVER envied much the wealthy man,
Who nothing can enjoy of what he keeps.
'Tis not the quantity we drink that marks
The drunkard, but our own capacity!
## p. 11408 (#632) ##########################################
11408
PHILEMON, MENANDER, ETC.
THERE is no remedy for wrath, it seems,-
Unless it be a friend's unflinching word.
WHO would command, and is not soldier-bred,
Leads forth but sacrifices to the foe.
The total mass of these comic fragments (chiefly from the Mid-
dle and New Comedy) is extremely large. They are most accessible
in two volumes of the Didot series, Fragmenta Comicorum' and
'Aristophanes, etc. ' The latter volume includes most of Menander
and Philemon. There is added a Latin translation, with helpful
These estrays have not been translated into English,- and as
a whole perhaps hardly deserve to be; but a most vivid picture of
the Attic fourth century could be reconstructed from them, and num-
berless exquisite bits of pure poetry still glimmer in the dust.
notes.
Altogether, there is hardly another terra incognita so rich as this,
lying so close outside the beaten track of classical scholarship. F. A
Paley, toward the end of his laborious life, made a rather flippant
little volume of rhymed versions from the 'Fragmenta Comicorum. '
Symonds, in the chapter mentioned above, has some good versions.
Of Menander many of the finest sustained passages were rendered
by Francis Fawkes, in the free Johnsonian fashion of the last century.
But the field lies fallow.
The term "comedy" is, as we have tried to illustrate in the cita-
tions, rather too narrow. Plautus's 'Rudens,' a romantic tale of ship-
wreck, may well remind us of Shakespeare's 'Tempest' or 'Winter's
Tale'; his 'Captives' is in its essential plot a story of heroic sacri
fice for friendship's sake, like the 'Merchant of Venice. ' The Greek
originals of such plays may have formed a transitional class of roman-
tic dramas, not precisely tragic, and by no means essentially comic.
This was doubtless especially true of the "Middle" period, when
Athens had not forgotten her more heroic past, nor renounced her
freedom forever. Agathon's 'Flower,' again, may have been rather
a melodramatic opera than a drama. In general, our traditional types
are entirely too few and too rigid to include the numberless master-
pieces of the Attic imagination.
Wizziam
Cranston Lawions
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