Chapter IV: Part 4

The first writer to make Comedy political—that is, the first writer to give to the “Old” Comedy of Athens that which is, by modern readers, generally regarded as its most essential characteristic—was Cratinus. He, abandoning in great part that endeavour to amuse which had been the primary object of his predecessors, deliberately made use of Comedy as a political party engine, or, as he would perhaps have preferred to call it, as a means of attacking those who did harm to the state.[208] The success of the new element thus imported seems to have been very great; but, at the same time, it must not be supposed that the work of Cratinus was all of this nature. In the first place, some of his plays were of a distinctly general character. Thus the _Odysses_ was a simple parody of the _Odyssey_ of Homer, and, as such, was the distinct forerunner of a class of piece very common in the Social Comedy of the fourth century.[209] The _Cleobulinae_, with its enigmas, is equally suggestive of another feature of the same period of art. In like manner, the _Panoptae_, with its attacks on the philosopher Hippo, the _Seriphii_, with its mythological allusions, and the _Horae_, with its apparent discussions of tragedy, all point to the direction in which lay the true development of the art of Comedy.[210]

But, popular as the indiscriminate mud-throwing of Cratinus undoubtedly was with a large section of that cultured Athenian audience which one is taught to admire, a certain reaction was, in course of time, almost inevitable; and such a reaction was actually furnished by the comedies of Crates. Crates is described as the first Attic comedian to develop Comedy on the lines of Epicharmus, and to introduce a plot with apparently fictitious or allegorical characters, instead of merely bringing public characters on the stage and making them ridiculous.[211]

From a very early period, therefore, Comedy at Athens falls into two classes, the personal, which is usually also political, and the general or social, though the line of demarcation is not, of course, a very rigid one, since writers of the latter class would seldom feel much hesitation in attacking anyone who had made himself particularly obnoxious to them, even if he were a political character, while those of the former were also frequently compelled, for equally personal reasons, to set a limit to their righteous indignation. Thus Pherecrates, the most important of the actual imitators of Crates,[212] is by no means averse to an occasional personality, while a writer of the very opposite school, Hermippus, was yet the author of the _Athenas Gonae_.[213] Plato and Aristophanes are, of course, equally striking instances of the same fact occurring at a later date.

From the preceding paragraphs, which might have been considerably extended, had it not lain somewhat outside the present subject to extend them, one fact at least will be abundantly clear. That system of treating subjects rather than persons as material for comedy which is sometimes spoken of as a distinctive feature of “Middle” Comedy (using that term in its chronological sense), had already been in vogue at Athens from the very earliest times; in fact, what are commonly called “Old” and “Middle” Comedy are, in spirit, intimately associated with one another, and the most important differences between them are in purely external matters, brought about by external causes.[214]

This fact will not be without its importance in considering our immediate subject. In the first place, it will cause us to find in the early Athenian comedy two distinct ways of regarding women, which, while contemporaneous, have very little else in common with one another. The comedy of the school of Cratinus,[215] being concerned with public characters and with them alone, naturally ignores women almost entirely.[216] The comedy of the school of Crates, on the other hand, is very similar in its treatment of women to the comedy of the beginning of the fourth century, except that, in so far as the position of women in Athenian society was a less important one in the middle of the fifth century than it was some seventy years later, the female element is not such a pronounced feature of these early works as it is of the later.

A detailed examination of the treatment of women in early comedy, as far as such is possible by means of the fragments, will serve to illustrate the foregoing somewhat general remarks.

III. EARLY COMEDY.

Cratinus, in that work at any rate which is truly characteristic of his genius, is entirely engrossed in public affairs, and in attacking the characters of public men. It is not, therefore, surprising to find that in his plays women are almost entirely ignored. The one notable exception is Aspasia, who is, it is true, alluded to more than once, and that in no very complimentary terms; but this is, of course, only what one would expect of an opponent of Pericles.[217] The poet’s views of married life are sufficiently illustrated by his _Pytine_. It is, however, to be observed that, in those of his plays which, from legislative causes, approximated more closely to the contemporary social comedy, the female element is more apparent, though even here it is never really prominent. Thus the _Cleobulinae_ appears to have introduced a chorus of women propounding enigmas, while both the _Nemesis_ and the _Seriphii_ contained at least allusions to erotic mythological incidents.[218]

The other early poets of the political school are still more barren of references to women; indeed the fragments of Teleclides, Hermippus, and Eupolis,[219] put together, do not furnish a single noticeable instance.

It is otherwise, as already remarked, with the school of Crates. The fragments of Crates himself do not indeed furnish much of interest in this connection, except, perhaps, the rather _risqué_ remarks in _Fr. Incert._ 3 and 4, but from Pherecrates there is more to be learnt. In the first place, three of his plays, the _Corianno_, _Thalatta_, and _Petale_, are named after Hetaerae, a common enough feature in later times, but rare at this early period; while the first two of these, at any rate, were evidently devoted to a study of the life of this class of person. Thus the _Corianno_ describes (_Fr._ 1, 2, 3, 4) the drinking propensities of its heroine;[220] while the _Thalatta_ gives one even further particulars, _Fr._ 7 describing the arrival at Thalatta’s house of her lover[221] (perhaps the Epilesmon, the “Absent-minded Man,” from whom the piece had its second title), and _Fr._ 2, 3, and 5 their supper together, while _Fr._ 4 shows clearly that a lover’s quarrel of some sort duly found its place in the piece.[222] Of the _Petale_ no important fragment remains. Whether the _Pannychis_ dealt with one of those incidents which are so common in New Comedy, it is impossible to say.

IV. ARISTOPHANES.

The remains of Pherecrates, therefore, notwithstanding their very meagre character, supply ample evidence that, at this period already, some of the most popular characters and scenes of early fourth-century comedy had found a place on the Athenian stage[223]; but a still more interesting field of study is furnished by those poets who belong to the period of transition which commences with the decline of the Athenian power, and more especially by those who began life as adherents of the personal and political school of Cratinus, and were afterwards compelled, by force of circumstances, to identify themselves with a different style of art. Foremost among these is, of course, the name of Aristophanes. The earlier plays of Aristophanes contain few allusions to women, and throughout his works it may be doubted whether he ever introduced a female character on the stage except with the ultimate intention of leading up to some form of indecency. At the same time, since the fact that his plays have been preserved affords a better opportunity of judging of his views than is to be had in the case of any other writer of the period, it will perhaps be well to examine some of his characteristics in greater detail.

The first and, perhaps, the most striking feature in the Aristophanic treatment of women—a feature which is very prominent indeed in certain plays—is the respect which the poet professes to feel for women’s judgment and powers of organisation. Thus, in the _Lysistrata_, the treaty between Athens and Sparta, which is admitted on all sides to be desirable, can only be brought about through the intervention of a woman. Similarly, in the _Ecclesiazusae_, when the government of the city has fallen into a deplorable state, it is reorganised by the women, and their scheme of reorganisation is, we are given to understand, a complete success, for the time being at any rate. Again, in the lost play of the _Scenas Catalambanusae_, there seems little doubt that the motive of the action was an appeal on the part of the poet from the male audience who had not appreciated him, to a female audience which he expected to find endowed with better taste.

All this is very pleasing as far as it goes. The question is:—How far is this respect professed for women, genuine? Enquiry would seem to show that very little of it, if any, is genuine at all. Of the _Scenas Catalambanusae_ it is impossible to speak with certainty,[224] but, as for the other two plays mentioned above, it is hard to believe that the women are introduced for any other purpose than that of leading up to the various scenes of indecency which afford the main interest of both pieces. The climax of the _Lysistrata_ is the pathetic speech of Cinesias (865 _seqq._), that of the _Ecclesiazusae_ the struggle between the γραῦς and the νεανίς (877 _seqq._), and neither of these scenes can be said to show much respect for female nature. As for the success of the women’s efforts in both these plays, it is perhaps sufficient to observe that in each case the poet’s main object was to point out the advantages of a particular course of action, not to suggest any novel method of procedure by means of which this course was to be adopted. The political object of both comedies is merely to attack the government of the day. No one who has ever read these plays would be likely to argue that they advocated the extension of the franchise to women, or indeed concerned themselves in any way with any subject of the kind. To put it shortly, the women are introduced for indecency’s sake, and their revolutions succeed simply because they are revolutions against the existing order of things, an order of which Aristophanes did not approve. It would be as reasonable to suppose that the _Aves_ was a serious piece of advice to the Athenians to consult with birds about the management of the State, as to assume that the _Ecclesiazusae_ meant to imply that the views of women were really worthy of consideration or adoption.

The incessant allusions in these plays, no less than in others, to the incontinence,[225] the drunkenness, and the various other faults with which it was usual at the time to tax women—allusions which frequently take the form of frank confessions on the part of the women themselves—are so numerous that there is no need to quote any of them.

Another rather striking feature is the way in which several of the plays of Aristophanes conclude with the wedding of one of the characters—a feature at first sight very suggestive of the comedy typical of a much later period. The best known instance of this is perhaps in the _Eirene_, but the same seems to have been the case in the _Polyidus_ (where the successful soothsayer is rewarded with the hand of the king’s daughter, Phaedra), and in the _Geras_, where the hero, having been miraculously restored to youth, repudiates his former wife, and marries one more suited to his recently acquired—or lost—years. It must, however, be observed that in none of these plays, as far as one can see, is the wedding of the hero by any means the logical result of the action of the piece; it is merely an incidental episode introduced, in the _Eirene_ at any rate, and very possibly also in the others, simply with the view of providing the chorus with an effective exit. In the _Polyidus_, moreover, it is clear that though Minos gives his daughter as a reward, he has his own opinion as to the value of the gift, an opinion which is hardly complimentary to Phaedra[226]; while in the _Geras_ there can be little reasonable doubt that the connubial arrangements were made the occasion for a plentiful supply of obscenities, _quae nunc desiderantur_, if one can use the words in such a connection.[227] One must be careful, therefore, not to exaggerate the importance of this feature in the Aristophanic treatment of women, though it cannot, of course, be denied that to introduce a wedding at all on the stage was a distinct advance on strict Athenian views with reference to such events.[228]

Aristophanes was above all things, by profession at least, a conservative and a _laudator temporis acti_; but, strangely enough, this characteristic of his is but little noticeable in his treatment of women. Nothing would have been more natural, one would have thought, than that he should, in the course of some of his highly-coloured pictures of primeval felicity before the days of Euripides and the philosophers, have dwelt upon the purity of ancient family life and the chastity of a previous generation of women, in contrast to that present depravity to which he makes such frequent allusion. But, true to his Athenian temperament, he never follows any such line, nor indeed does he ever take up high ground on this subject. Ready as he is to moralise seriously on other matters, even on matters so distinctly erotic as the relations of man to man,[229] his tone with regard to women is invariably flippant.

Women are, above all things, conservative:

μοιχοὺς ἔχουσιν ἔνδον ὥσπερ καὶ πρὸ τοῦ. (_Eccles._ 225.)

Euripides may have made rude remarks about women, but his suggestions are politeness itself compared with what might have been said.[230] Indeed, the main charge of the women against Euripides in the _Thesmophoriazusae_ is not that he has maligned them, but that he has opened the eyes of their husbands to what they actually do.[231] It is needless to multiply instances; the general tendency is plain. Woman in Aristophanes is invariably an object of ridicule. So incapable was he of treating her otherwise, that his one ideal woman, Eirene, for whom the knight-errant Trygaeus flies up to heaven on the dung-beetle, was a colossal failure, a κολοσσικὸν ἄγαλμα that was the general laughing-stock of his contemporaries.[232]

This being so, there is but little need to dwell on such “erotic” passages as do occur, here and there in his works, between men and women. Such scenes, of which the best instance is perhaps that in the _Ecclesiazusae_ (877 _seqq._), are never the main motive of the plot; they are merely more or less irrelevant incidents, developed or not according to the chances they afford for the introduction of amusing indecencies. In these scenes Aristophanes is often to be seen at his very best, but they cannot of course be drawn upon with the object of supplying evidence as to his real views of women, except in so far as they serve still further to emphasise what has already been said as to the poet’s disinclination to deal seriously with the subject of women at all. Indeed, his view of the proper relation between love and art is sufficiently illustrated by the famous argument in the _Ranae_ (1043 _seqq._) between Aeschylus and Euripides, where, after the former has stated with pride:

οὐδ’ οἶδ’ οὐδεὶς ἥντιν’ ἐρῶσαν πώποτ’ ἐποίησα γυναῖκα,

and the latter has defended his own erotic treatment on the ground that it is realistic:

πότερον δ’ οὐκ ὄντα λόγον τοῦτον περὶ τῆς Φαίδρας ξυνέθηκα;

the answer comes back:

μὰ Δί’, ἀλλ’ ὄντ’· ἀλλ’ ἀποκρύπτειν χρὴ τὸ πονηρὸν τόν γε ποιητήν.

The treatment of erotic subjects in a realistic manner is not the business of a true poet!

V. THE COCALUS.

With this before one, it would seem hardly necessary to say anything further about the erotic element in Aristophanes. There is, however, one play of his—the last, or last but one, that he wrote—which seems at first sight to differ so entirely in spirit from the rest, that it is well worthy of separate notice.

This play is the _Cocalus_, a work of which it is distinctly stated by ancient authorities that it anticipated one of the most characteristic features of romantic comedy—nay more, that it actually served as the model for Menander and Philemon. Thus, in the _Vita Aristophanis_, p. xxxviii., it is said: ἐγένετο δὲ καὶ αἴτιος ζήλου τοῖς νέοις κωμικοῖς, λέγω δὴ Φιλήμονι καὶ Μενάνδρῳ ... ἔγραψε Κώκαλον, ἐν ᾧ εἰσάγει φθορὰν καὶ ἀναγνωρισμὸν καὶ τἄλλα πάντα ἃ ἐζήλωσε Μένανδρος, and again, p. xxxv.: πρῶτος δὲ καὶ τῆς νέας κωμῳδίας τὸν τρόπον ἐπέδειξεν ἐν τῷ Κωκάλῳ, ἐξ οὗ τὴν ἀρχὴν λαβόμενοι Μένανδρός τε καὶ Φιλήμων ἐδραματούργησαν.

Of these statements, the one part, startling as it is, must presumably be accepted without question. In the face of such definite evidence, it would be rash to attempt to deny that one of the features of Aristophanes’ play was φθορὰ καὶ ἀναγνωρισμός—a feature which is, as is well known, not only one of the commonest in romantic comedy, but also peculiarly characteristic of the love-element as there treated. The sort of story of which we are speaking is sufficiently familiar to every reader of Terence. A man seduces a girl, either without knowing at all who she is, or else under the impression that she is a foreigner or a slave. Afterwards she is proved to be an Athenian citizen, and he, being still in love, marries her, with the double object of atoning for his fault and of continuing his amour on a legitimate basis.[233]

But here a question arises. Granted that Aristophanes anticipated one of the most characteristic situations of the romantic comedy, in how far, if at all, did he anticipate the romantic treatment of that situation, such as we subsequently find it? Aristophanes, as we have seen, has the first part of the romantic love-story in his _Cocalus_; is it probable that he also had the second? He has the seduction and the recognition; is it probable that he had also the _amende honorable_ prompted by feelings of respect and devotion? And, as a natural pendant to this, is it probable that the _Cocalus_ was really, as asserted, the model after which the later romantic comedy was formed?

It is not probable. No one who knows the works of Aristophanes, and considers the character of the Athenians of his day, would expect such a thing; and, apart from this inherent improbability, there are various reasons which seem to suggest that the second part of the anonymous grammarian’s statement was based upon a misconception. But, before discussing any of these points, it will be necessary to investigate, as far as possible, the exact nature of this play of Aristophanes, for which so much is claimed.

An examination of the actual remains of the _Cocalus_ will not afford very much information, for the fragments preserved are few and unimportant, while the mercurial nature of Aristophanes’ plots, as we know them from existing plays, makes it obviously hazardous to venture conjectures as to what they may or may not have included. Certain facts, however, seem sufficiently clear. For one thing, the play was based, at any rate originally and ostensibly, on the legendary history of Cocalus, Daedalus, and Minos. This history was, briefly, as follows:—

Daedalus, after his flight from Crete, took refuge with Cocalus, king of Sicily, and rose to high favour at his court. When Minos, having learnt his whereabouts, demanded his surrender, Cocalus at first seemed willing to comply, and invited Minos to his palace. The latter, suspecting nothing, accepted the invitation, and was at once murdered in his bath, either by Cocalus himself or by his daughters.[234]

That the latter version of the final incident was accepted by Aristophanes seems probable, but even so it is hard to see how the φθορὰ καὶ ἀναγνωρισμός can be brought into the story. It is, perhaps, justifiable to assume that the hero of the amour was Daedalus, and that the lady was subsequently recognised as a daughter of Cocalus; but how this all came about, it is well-nigh impossible to say. In some of the fragments we are apparently introduced to a regular Hetaera (_e.g._ 2, 10; and, perhaps, 6, 7); in another, however (_Fr._ 3), a woman seems vigorously repudiating some slur cast on her character. It cannot, of course, be proved that the plot[235] was not one of the regular New Comedy kind: The daughter of Cocalus, being stolen as a child, became the property of a _leno_, and was thus brought in contact with Daedalus, &c. But it seems to me much more probable that the structure of the story was somewhat of the following kind. The daughter of Cocalus is violated by Daedalus on the occasion of a nocturnal orgy, without being recognised by her lover. She, however, is aware of his identity, and consequently, when the time comes, murders Minos, an event which necessitates explanations (the ἀναγνωρισμός of the grammarian).[236] One thing there is to be said in favour of this scheme of reconstruction, though, of course, when the evidence is so slight, it is impossible to feel anything like confidence with regard to this or any other suggestion. If this view be adopted, Aristophanes may be assumed to have chosen his story with the object of satirising the _Pannychides_ and other similar orgies, which were always a favourite subject of attack with him, and which he had already abused in the _Horae_,[237] the _Lemniae_, and, perhaps, elsewhere.

But, be this as it may, one thing is plain. There is nothing, either in the story of the _Cocalus_ or in its treatment, as far as the fragments allow one to judge of this, which has any real sympathy with that later feeling which inspires the romantic comedy. For one thing, the erotic incident, such as it is, belongs entirely to that primitive class in which the action is all on the side of the woman. The daughter of Cocalus saving her lover is but a reflection of Medea or Ariadne. In the later romantic comedy, on the other hand, the action is regularly on the side of the man; for, as is well known, the attempts of the lover to outwit his father or the _leno_ supply pretty well the whole stock of the incidents of New Comedy. Again, there is no suggestion whatever, as far as one can judge, of any marriage by way of reparation, or, indeed, of any marriage at all;[238] and marriage, as we shall see very clearly later on, is the fundamental principle of Greek romance. Again, there is no suggestion—and this is still more important—that the love of Daedalus was described as more than a mere temporary emotion; and here is another point of difference between this play and the romantic New Comedy. In fact, if one comes to examine the story of the _Cocalus_ carefully, it becomes apparent that the essential features of Greek romance are entirely wanting. Indeed, the only real affinity of this play to the New Comedy seems to be that it anticipated, or possibly suggested, some of the rather cumbrous conventional machinery of the latter form of art.

A further fact, which well-nigh precludes the possibility of regarding the _Cocalus_ as the real model of New Comedy, is furnished by the dates. The date of the _Cocalus_ cannot be fixed later than the year 380 or thereabouts. The first play of Philemon, admittedly the most ancient poet who wrote romantic comedies, appeared in 330. Thus, even if it were granted that such romantic comedies were among the earliest of Philemon’s works, which was almost certainly not the case,[239] there would still be an interval of at least fifty years during which the “romantic” _Cocalus_ of Aristophanes did not find a single imitator. The works of Antiphanes, Eubulus, and, indeed, all the typical writers of “Middle” Comedy, do not contain so much as a suggestion of a romantic element, and yet, before the time of all of them, there was in existence a perfect romantic comedy, which only needed to be revived by Philemon to bring about a complete revolution of the canons of dramatic art. In fact, the introduction of the romantic element into comedy—that is, the birth of the modern drama—was due to a chance resuscitation by Philemon of an obscure piece that had been lying unnoticed for more than fifty years. _Credat Apella._

Moreover, if one comes to consider the matter, there were powerful causes at work in the minds of the early critics, which may very well have led them to assign an undue degree of importance to the _Cocalus_. Such causes would be mainly of two distinct kinds.

In the first place, there was the tendency, with which every student of ancient and mediaeval criticism is familiar, to exaggerate the merits of certain individuals, and to ascribe to certain admittedly great names an even more extended influence than they actually possessed.[240] It seemed only natural, therefore, to the ancient critic to expect that Aristophanes, being admittedly the greatest of the comedians, should not only have profoundly influenced his own immediate field of art, but should also have laid the foundations of every subsequent form of comedy. The grammarian, therefore, who found in the story of the _Cocalus_ a certain resemblance to stories with which he was familiar in the plays of the New Comedy, felt no hesitation in affirming that the _Cocalus_ was actually the model on which these plays of the New Comedy were based, just as Platonius (p. xxxiv.) speaks of the _Aeolosicon_ as ὁ τῆς μέσης κωμῳδίας τύπος.

In the second place, the story of the _Cocalus_ had actually been converted into a “New” Comedy play—the _Hypobolimaeus_ of Philemon[241]—and the existence of this neo-comic version of the story may very possibly have influenced the recollections of the original; for it is more than probable that the play of Philemon, while adopting the main features of the story as it appeared in Aristophanes, yet differed considerably in its general treatment of the erotic incidents. In other words, there is little reason to doubt that Philemon, actuated by the changed spirit of his time, developed the romantic capabilities of the story to the utmost, and gave a romantic interpretation to various situations, where nothing of the kind had been done or intended by Aristophanes. And hence the fact that a romantic version of the _Cocalus_ was familiar, served to spread the idea that the original _Cocalus_ was romantic also, and, as such, a forerunner of the romantic element in New Comedy, whereas, as a matter of fact, it was nothing of the kind, owing its romantic colouring entirely to the influence of the ideas disseminated by that New Comedy which it was erroneously supposed to inspire.

To sum up, then: There seems little reason to believe that the _Cocalus_ is really as important for the history of the romantic element as would at first sight appear. Apart from the strong _prima facie_ improbability of finding a romantic love-story in a play by Aristophanes, there is the further remarkable fact that the Aristophanic suggestion, if really given, found no one to take it up for more than fifty years. Again, while the legendary history of Cocalus and the fragments of the play, as far as such have been preserved, do not actually preclude the possibility that the erotic incident may have been treated in a romantic manner, they certainly furnish no evidence whatever in favour of such a view. There are, besides, various reasons which may have induced the ancient critics to see a greater resemblance between the _Cocalus_ and the plays of the New Comedy than was actually present. On the whole, therefore, it would appear that the similarity between this work of Aristophanes and the romantic comedies of Menander and his followers, is merely an accidental and superficial one, and that it is incorrect to say, as some have done, that the latter class of composition was derived from or inspired by the former.

VI. THE POETS OF THE TRANSITION.

To return after this somewhat lengthy digression to our examination of the poets of the transition.

Plato, even more than his model Aristophanes, was a follower of the political school of Cratinus, revelling in personal attacks of the most violent kind, and hence there seems little reason to doubt that such of his plays as bear the stamp of Middle Comedy belong to his later period, and were only produced, decidedly _invita Minerva_, when the free license of abuse had been artificially checked. Hence the allusions in his works to women or erotic subjects seem to have been unusually scarce. In the _Adonis_, mention is made of the rival lovers of the hero, Aphrodite and Dionysus; but there is nothing to indicate that this play contained anything of the nature of a serious exposition of the respective claims of male and female love. The _Zeus Cacumenus_ very probably introduced Zeus in his usual comic character of the adulterer, as did the _Nyx Macra_,[242] and the _Europe_ may very possibly have treated of a similar subject. More original, however, and interesting than these is the _Phaon_, which seems to have been one of the poet’s latest works, and which furnishes a good specimen of his manner of treating women. Phaon, having been presented by Aphrodite with the cosmetics which were to inspire universal passion, appears surrounded by a crowd of admiring women, who are, however, refused access to his presence, unless they perform certain propitiatory rites (_Fr._ 2), and otherwise prove themselves worthy of the honour. The means by which one lady eventually qualifies (_Fr._ 4) can only be guessed, but the language of _Fr._ 3 seems to suggest that the contest was somewhat after the manner of those described in _Anth. Pal._ v. 35 or Alciphron i. 39, 4 _seqq._[243] The interest of this piece lies in the fact that the plot is, despite its ribald handling, unequivocally a love-story, and, as such, perhaps distinct from any piece that we have hitherto had occasion to examine. That the love-story is, however, of the kind which belongs essentially to Middle Comedy, and has nothing whatever in common with those of the later romantic comedy, will become abundantly clear when we come to deal with the points of difference between these two schools of art.[244]

The information to be gained from the remains of the other poets of the transitional period is sadly scanty. The _Moechi_ of Ameipsias, a play which, to judge by the title, might have thrown much light on the present subject, is hopelessly lost. Of the _Sappho_ even the title is doubtful. The celebrated _Ichthys_ of Archippus seems to have contained punning allusions to the Hetaerae Sepia and Aphye, a sign of the growing inclination to discuss this class of persons on the stage. The latter lady, or a namesake of hers, is mentioned by Callias in his _Cyclopes_. Of the _Atalanta_ of the same writer, one line is preserved:

κέρδος αἰσχύνης ἄμεινον· ἕλκε μοιχὸν ἐς μυχόν,

which seems in some sort to suggest that episode in the life of the mythical Atalanta, daughter of Schoeneus, which led to her metamorphosis[245]; but, seeing that even the title _Atalanta_ is doubtful, this conjecture cannot be considered as very certain. Strattis appears to have introduced Lais on the stage in his _Macedones_ (_Fr._ 5), and in his parodies of the _Medea_, the _Phoenissae_, &c., the female characters of Euripides doubtless came in for their full share of ridicule, though no definite evidence to this effect has been preserved.

A little more information is to be gained from the works of those poets who belonged to the very end of the period of transition. Thus, the plays of Theopompus, which deal almost exclusively with Middle Comedy subjects, furnish several instances of that treatment of female characters with which one is familiar in the plays of the Middle Comedy proper. The _Aphrodisia_ introduces us to the Hetaerae celebrating their customary festival. _Fr._ 1 affords a specimen of the remarks passed on absent friends on such occasions,[246] while _Fr._ 2 gives further details of the festivities. The solitary but considerable fragment of the _Nemea_ (called after the Hetaera of that name) gives a lively description of a scene in which an intending lover is doing his best to gain the approval of the lady’s _lena_, a class which was, doubtless, as devoted then to the _curto vetus amphora collo_ as it was 400 years later.[247] In the _Capelides_ it is equally possible to get a glimpse of the action of the piece. A man dropping in at the bar of a house he has been in the habit of frequenting, and finding himself less effusively welcomed than he had had reason to hope (_Fr._ 3, 4), threatens to attack the proprietress and the rival of whom he is jealous (_Fr._ 5). Of the rest, the _Hedychares_ described a wedding ceremony (_Fr._ 3),[248] the _Callaeschrus_ contained an allusion to the expensiveness of certain Hetaerae, and general erotic allusions are not uncommon (_e.g._ _Odysseus_ 1, _Medus_ 2). The _Stratiotides_ seems to have had some points in common with the _Ecclesiazusae_ of Aristophanes. Alcaeus, who is one of the very latest in date of the writers usually ranked as belonging to the “Old” Comedy, deals in nearly all his plays with erotic subjects, mostly in the shape of mythological stories burlesqued. To this class belong the _Pasiphae_, the _Hierus Gamus_, the _Endymion_, the _Ganymedes_, and perhaps the _Callisto_, unless this be, like the _Palaestra_, named after an Hetaera. From this list of titles it may be seen that every style of love came in for treatment, but in no case are the fragments sufficiently numerous, for it to be possible even to hazard a guess as to what the nature of that treatment may have been. As to the plot of the _Adelphae Moecheuomenae_, we are equally in the dark, though the title seems to suggest the _Aeolosicon_ of Aristophanes and the _Canace_ of Euripides. Lastly, in the _Antea_ of Eunicus and the _Thalatta_ of Diodes, both named after Hetaerae, we have two further instances of a class of piece with which we have been steadily growing more familiar, the nearer we have approached the confines of the typical “Middle” Comedy.

VII. THE MIDDLE COMEDY.

The poets of the transition, of whom we have just been speaking, have introduced us, more or less, to most, if not all, of the features which belong to the Middle Comedy proper; at the same time, it may not be amiss, for clearness’ sake, to recapitulate briefly those features, in so far as they affect our immediate subject.

The points on which it is essential to concentrate the attention are three in number:—

(1) In Middle Comedy, the preponderance of politics as the main dramatic interest—a preponderance which, naturally, tended to exclude women from the stage—disappears, and, consequently, female characters step inevitably into a more prominent position.

(2) The restriction of the original license of Comedy, had led the comedians to devote their talents to parodying mythological subjects; the parodists of mythology would naturally find their readiest materials in the stories of the amours of the various gods, and hence erotic stories of a sort at once come to the fore.

(3) Middle Comedy being in great part, if not entirely, devoted to the realistic treatment of contemporary social life, the Hetaerae, who formed an important feature in that life, were necessarily brought into prominence.[249]

Of these three main features,[250] the first two will not require special illustration,[251] but the last is one on which it will be necessary to dwell for some time.

The Hetaera-plays[252] are one of the most characteristic features of the fourth century; indeed, it may almost be said that admiration for the Hetaera, and ridicule of the wife, were the two main social canons of the period. These plays seem to have been realistic representations of contemporary life, and their general character is sufficiently demonstrated by the well-known retort of Antiphanes to Alexander;[253] but while they all thus have, as it were, a certain family likeness, it would appear, beyond doubt, that they may be also divided into two distinct classes, viz., those that have a distinct erotic plot, and those that have none, the latter naturally belonging to an earlier period of development than the former.

Plays dealing with Hetaerae were not, as we have already seen, exclusively a feature of the fourth-century Comedy, though the majority of such plays does, of course, belong to this period. In the very beginnings of Comedy at Athens, we have at least three plays of this class from the pen of Pherecrates,[254] while, at a later period of the fifth century, other works of a similar character seem certainly to have appeared.

The general character of these plays, however, seems, in spite of the modernity of their subject, to have been essentially that prevailing during the early period to which they belong. Pherecrates and his imitators seem to have been merely concerned in drawing a picture—perhaps a somewhat burlesque one—of the general life of an Hetaera and her followers, and in dwelling upon the various comic incidents which might occur in her environment, without troubling to connect these incidents by means of any very definite story. In other words, the Hetaera-play of Pherecrates was still, in the main, that mixture of pantomime and variety-show with which one is familiar in Aristophanes, and with which one’s ideas of the early Athenian Comedy are usually associated. And that plays of this class continued to be produced with success till well into the fourth century, there seems no reason to doubt.

The typical Hetaera-play of the Middle Comedy, however, is of an entirely different character. In this there is a definite plot, of which the Hetaera is the heroine, while the action of the piece is supplied by the struggles _de nocte locanda_ of her various rival lovers. In fact, the Hetaera-play of Antiphanes or Alexis is a comedy in the modern sense of the word, while the Hetaera-play of an earlier period is still nothing but an extravaganza. The author of this great change is not known; perhaps it was Anaxandrides.

It is stated of Anaxandrides that he was the first to introduce ἔρωτας καὶ παρθένων φθοράς[255] into Comedy. This statement is, at first sight, rather difficult to understand, when one considers plays like the _Nemesis_ of Cratinus, or the _Cocalus_ of Aristophanes, not to speak of erotic episodes like the one which terminates the _Ecclesiazusae_ of the latter writer; and it must be apparent that the mere introduction on the stage of such subjects cannot be the merit claimed by Suidas for Anaxandrides. The most simple explanation of the apparent anomaly would therefore seem to be, that what Suidas means to imply, is that Anaxandrides was the first to make erotic subjects the main interest of his plot, and to introduce his principal characters as taking part in them; for this, as we have already seen, was not the case with the earlier plays which dealt with erotic matters.

Whether this great advance was really due to Anaxandrides cannot, unfortunately, be proved with anything like certainty, for such fragments of his works as have survived are remarkably reticent on this particular subject;[256] but there can be no doubt that it took place about his time, so that there is at least a strong probability, under the circumstances, that it was the result of his influence.

On the first and older class of Hetaera-play, it is useless to dwell further; a certain vague idea of their general nature is all that can be gained by the study of their fragments, and the external evidence as to their character is equally meagre, while the intentional want of coherence which marked their action makes it obviously absurd to endeavour in any way to reconstruct them. The character of the second and, for our purposes, more important class, will be best explained by a brief examination of one or two striking specimens, the remains of which are sufficiently important to render it possible to follow their story, at any rate for a certain distance.

Thus, in the _Campylion_ of Eubulus, we are introduced to two men, one of whom sighs with quite modern plaintiveness over the heavy burden of his love for a certain κοσμία ἑταίρα:

τίς ἦν ὁ γράψας πρῶτος ἀνθρώπων ἄρα
ἢ κηροπλαστήσας Ἔρωθ’ ὑπόπτερον;
ὡς οὐδὲν ᾔδει πλὴν χελιδόνας γράφειν,
ἀλλ’ ἦν ἄπειρος τῶν τρόπων τῶν τοῦ θεοῦ.
ἔστιν γὰρ οὔτε κοῦφος οὔτε ῥᾴδιος
ἀπαλλαγῆναι τῷ φέροντι τὴν νόσον,
βαρὺς δὲ κομιδῇ· πῶς ἂν οὖν ἔχοι πτερά
τοιοῦτο πρᾶγμα; λῆρος, εἰ καὶ φησί τις.

(_Fr._ 3 _ap._ Athen. xiii. 562C.)

Through the agency of the friend, who is evidently more of a man of the world, the lovers meet at a supper party, which was probably at least a _partie carrée_. Here the friend gives vent to various cynical remarks on women:—

ὦ γαῖα κεραμί, τίς σε Θηρικλῆς ποτὲ
ἔτευξε κοίλης λαγόνος εὐρύνας βάθος;
ἦ που κατειδὼς τὴν γυναικείαν φύσιν
ὡς οὐχὶ μικροῖς ἥδεται ποτηρίοις.

(_Fr._ 2 _ap._ Athen. xi. 471 E.)

and, evidently a little sceptical as to the inviolable κοσμιότης of the lady, makes various efforts to induce her to commit herself, either by eating or drinking to excess[257] (_Fr._ 1, 5), or by displaying her talents in a questionable “song and dance.” (_Fr._ 6.) His efforts seem, however, to be unsuccessful, and at the end of the evening the hero is as hopelessly in love as ever:—

ὡς δ’ ἐδείπνει κοσμίως, he exclaims,
οὐκ ὥσπερ ἄλλαι, τῶν πράσων ποιούμεναι
τολύπας, ἔσαττον τὰς γνάθους καὶ τῶν κρεῶν
ἀπέβρυκον αἰσχρῶς, ἀλλ’ ἑκάστου μικρὸν ἂν
ἀπεγέυεθ’ ὥσπερ παρθένος Μιλησία.

(_Fr._ 4 _ap._ Athen. xiii. 571 F.)

The _dénouement_ of this interesting little story we do not know; let us hope it was a satisfactory one.

In the _Agonis_ of Alexis again, we find a girl remonstrating with her mother, who wishes her to accept a rich but dissolute lover in preference to the νεανίσκος of her choice.

ὦ μῆτερ, ἱκετεύω σε, μὴ ’πίσειέ μοι
τὸν Μισγόλαν· οὐ γὰρ κιθαρῳδός εἰμ’ ἐγώ.

The mother, however, insists, in spite of the young man’s professions of (imaginary?) wealth (_Fr._ 2), in carrying off her daughter to the rich lover’s house, where, however, the hero also manages to turn up and make some cutting remarks on the family portraits (_Fr._ 3).[258] He then succeeds in making the mother drunk (_Fr._ 4), and so, we are led to believe—for the end is again veiled in obscurity—is enabled to elude her vigilance.[259]

Further evidence as to the character of this style of art may be obtained by studying several of the plays of Plautus, such as the _Truculentus_, the _Mercator_, or the _Mostellaria_, which seem to have been adapted directly from Greek works of this class, without being in any way influenced by the later romantic ideas.

But while the incidents which occur in the individual plays are naturally of an endless variety, certain broad features are recognisable throughout this literature.

Firstly, not only is love for an Hetaera enthusiastically praised, but it is specially described as the one love in life worth loving. The advantage of the Hetaera over the wife is such a stock subject, that it will be unnecessary to do more than mention one or two of the most striking passages in which the feeling finds expression, such as that cited in Athenaeus, xiii. 559 A, from the _Athamas_ of Amphis:

εἶτ’ οὐ γυναικός ἐστιν εὐνοϊκώτερον
γαμετῆς ἑταίρα; πολύ γε καὶ μάλ’ εἰκότως.
ἡ μὲν νόμῳ γὰρ καταφρονοῦσ’ ἔνδον μένει,
ἡ δ’ οἶδεν ὅτι ἢ τοῖς τρόποις ὠνητέος
ἄνθρωπός ἐστιν ἢ πρὸς ἄλλον ἀπιτέον.

or that quoted in the same place from the _Corinthiastes_ of Philetaerus:

ὡς τακερόν, ὦ Ζεῦ, καὶ μαλακὸν τὸ βλέμμ’ ἔχει.
οὐκ ἐτὸς ἑταίρας ἱερόν ἐστι πανταχοῦ,
ἀλλ’ οὐχὶ γαμετῆς οὐδαμοῦ τῆς Ἑλλάδος.

But this is not all. The advantages of Hetaera-love over adultery are expounded after a fashion that cannot fail to be startling to anyone who has not formed a clear conception of what “love” meant in the Athens of Demosthenes. A striking instance of this occurs in the _Nannion_ of Eubulus,[260] and the same idea is still further developed in the _Pentathlus_ of Xenarchus.

As for that “love of a man for a maid,” which is, so to speak, the very essence of the love-element in later Greek literature, it is simply ignored in Middle Comedy. A girl that one is going to marry has all the disadvantages of a wife, but for one thing. While the wife _in esse_ is, as a later writer feelingly expresses it, “an immortal necessary evil,” and, therefore, cannot be altogether escaped from, there is no need to meet troubles halfway by drawing attention to the wife _in posse_. Let us eat and drink, for to-morrow we marry; and while we do so, let us have no Alexandrian skeleton at the feast to remind us of the fatal hour. And so, if the question be asked, “What did the Middle Comedy writers think of such love?” the answer is, “They did not think of it at all.”[261]

And this will serve to introduce us to a further question, in the answer to which lies the key to the whole of this part of our subject. What is actually meant by the “love” which we hear so often expressed for these Hetaerae? The answer may be simple and brief: _ornari res ipsa vetat, contenta doceri_: the love of the Middle Comedy is animal passion, pure and simple; the Hetaera caters for the appetites of the time in exactly the same way, even if in a different sphere, as the cook and the fishmonger, of whom we also hear so much, both to praise and blame, in this literature.[262] Of love in the modern sense of the word, of love as distinct from lust, there is nowhere any suggestion in the writers of the Middle Comedy. This fact is so patent to anyone who is familiar with the plays of this period, that one may, perhaps, be spared the trouble of its illustration. If anyone is inclined to doubt it, let him open the third volume of Meineke’s _Comic Fragments_ at random, and read; he will soon be satisfied.

When this is the case, it is not surprising that we find “Platonic” love held up to consistent ridicule during the time of the Middle Comedy. A sufficiently striking example of this method is the passage quoted in Athenaeus, xiii. 563 C, from the _Dithyrambus_ of Amphis:

τί φῄς; σὺ ταυτὶ προσδοκᾷς πείθειν ἐμέ,
ὡς ἔστ’ ἐραστὴς ὅστις, ὡραῖον φιλῶν,
τρόπων ἐραστής ἐστι, τὴν ὄψιν παρείς;
ἄφρων γ’ ἀληθῶς. κ.τ.λ.

[_Fr._ 2.]

But the clearest proof of all is that furnished by the fact that Plato himself, and Sappho, whose style of love was, as we have already had occasion to observe,[263] recognised as similar in spirit to that advocated by the philosopher, are, perhaps, the two favourite butts for the wit of the Middle Comedy. That the _Plato_ of Aristophon, like the _Hedychares_ of Theopompus, of which we have already spoken, and the _Sapphos_ of Antiphanes, Amphis, Ephippus, and Timocles, were, at least some of them, in part devoted to this subject, it seems only reasonable to believe, while sporadic allusions to the matter are, of course, sufficiently common. The one possible exception to this general rule appears in the _Helene_ of Alexis, where a character is introduced upholding the Platonic view of love; but it would be bold, in the face of so much evidence on the other side, to assert that this isolated statement in any way indicates the general tone of the comedy in question. It is far more likely that the champion of these views (perhaps Theseus[264]) was made to see the error of his ways and repent his lost opportunities before the play was out.

And akin in spirit to the above is the tendency, so common that it hardly needs special illustration, to throw ridicule on the married state and on family life in general.[265] When the man, who is called the originator of the erotic element in Middle Comedy, can write words like these:

ὅστις γαμεῖν βουλεύετ’, οὐ βουλεύεται
ὀρθῶς, διότι βουλεύεται χοὔτω γαμεῖ,

(Anaxandrides, _Incert._ 1.)

and mean them, there can be little doubt as to the tendency of that erotic element which he was the first to introduce. In fact, not only is marriage a favourite subject of ridicule, but it is one on which the writers of this period make some of their happiest remarks. There are few things in Antiphanes as good as the passage in the _Philopator_, where one man, meeting another, enquires after a friend, and hears that he has got married.

τί σὺ λέγεις; he exclaims in horror. ἀληθινῶς
γεγάμηκεν, ὃν ἐγὼ ζῶντα περιπατοῦντά τε
κατέλιπον;

Alexis is seldom as amusing as when he proclaims (_Incert._ 34) marriage worse than disfranchisement.

εἶτ’ οὐχὶ κρεῖττόν ἐστι τῷ γ’ ἔχοντι νοῦν
ἄτιμον εἶναι μᾶλλον ἢ γυναῖκ’ ἔχειν;
πολλῷ γε· τοὺς μὲν γοῦν ἀτίμους οὐκ ἐᾷ
ἀρχὴν λαχόντας ὁ νόμος ἄρχειν τῶν πέλας·
ἐπὰν δὲ γήμῃς, οὐδὲ σαυτοῦ κύριον
ἔξεστιν εἶναι.

Such, then, is the erotic element of the Middle Comedy—the praise of sensuality and the ridicule of all that is ennobling or virtuous. Alexis tells us all when he says:

τὰς ἡδονὰς δεῖ συλλέγειν τὸν σώφρονα.
τρεῖς δ’ εἰσὶν αἵ γε τὴν δύναμιν κεκτημέναι
τὴν ὡς ἀληθῶς συντελοῦσαν τῷ βίῳ,
τὸ πιεῖν, τὸ φαγεῖν, τὸ τῆς Ἀφροδίτης τυγχάνειν.
τὰ δ’ ἄλλα προσθήκας ἅπαντα χρὴ καλεῖν.

(_Incert._ 31.)

_Processit Vesper Olympo._ It was time the Macedonian barbarians swept all this away and made place for cleaner things.[266]

VIII. THE NEW COMEDY.

The feeling on passing from the Middle to the New Comedy is like the fresh air on coming out of the bar of a public-house. The Middle Comedy is the last decaying branch of the old literature; the romantic New Comedy is one of the earliest and most vigorous offshoots of that new literature which sprang from the genius of Antimachus, and has continued to the present day. In the Middle Comedy, we are still face to face with the women of typical Athens, with the women of Aristophanes, at best with the women of Euripides,—and with the way in which typical Athens treated these women; in the New Comedy this is changed, and woman—the woman that can be loved as wife and mother—steps into her true place as object of, and partner in, the intensest and the purest passions of which humanity is capable.

It will be remembered that the Middle Comedy treatment, of women and love for women, had four main characteristics.

(1) The glorification of the Hetaera and of love for the Hetaera.

(2) The purely sensual nature of the love thus extolled.

(3) The ridicule of all love that was not sensual.

(4) The ridicule of family-life.

The New Comedy flatly contradicts every one of these principles. The love of which it treats is love for a _virgin_,[267] and the consummation of this love is _marriage_. Such love is by no means purely sensual; indeed, at times it is almost of a “Platonic” character. And lastly, not only is the sanctity of marriage strictly insisted upon, and the advantages of marriage as a system strongly maintained, but the family relations, anyhow among the younger generation, are often of a very pleasant character.

In fact, while the action of the Middle Comedy is concerned with a love, the consummation of which is a temporary sensual gratification, the action of the New Comedy is supplied by the efforts of its heroes and their adherents, to secure that the love which occupies so much of their thoughts may be made at once legitimate and permanent. It was New Comedy that first introduced on the stage the love of a life, as opposed to the love of an hour. If anyone were to ask what was the chief merit of Menander, the answer would be that he was the first to show the Athenians that “love for ever,” with which every poetaster and novel-reader has now been familiar for so many centuries.

But the differences between the treatment of women in the new literature, and that to which they were exposed in the literature we have just been studying, will be most readily made clear if we proceed at once to the detailed examination of the former.

The first and most prominent feature of the New Comedy treatment of the love of men for women is its insistance on marriage—that is to say, on a definite guarantee of permanence and constancy—as the one proper consummation of such love. In fact, as we have already had occasion to observe in another place, the idealisation of marriage is the basis of Greek romance.[268]