verses, as lines from the play of _Harpace_, by Q. Trabea, in the first
edition of his Commentary on Varro’s Dialogues _De Re Rustica_, in order
to illustrate some obscure expression of his author—“Quis enim,” says he,
“tam aversus a Musis, tamque humanitatis expers, qui horum publicatione
offendatur.” Muretus, not content with this malicious trick, afterwards
sent him some other verses, to which he affixed the name of Attius,
expressing, but more diffusely, the same idea. Scaliger, in his next
edition of Varro, published them, along with the former lines, as
fragments from the _Œnomaus_, a tragedy by Attius, and a plagiarism from
Trabea—observing, at the end of his note, “Fortasse de hoc nimis.” Muretus
said nothing for two years; but, at the end of that period, he published a
volume of his own Latin poems, and, along with them, under the title
_Afficta Trabeæ_, both sets of verses which he had thus palmed on Scaliger
for undoubted remnants of antiquity. The whole history of the imposture
was fully disclosed in a note: Both poems, it was acknowledged, were
versions of a fragment, attributed by some to Menander, and by others to
Philemon, beginning,—Ει τα δακρυα ἡμιν, κ.τ.λ. They have been also
translated into Latin by Naugerius(298).
The progress of time, the ravages of war, and the intervention of a period
of barbarism, which have deprived us of so many dramatic works of the
Romans, have fortunately spared six plays of
TERENCE,
which are perhaps the most valuable remains that have descended to us
among the works of antiquity. This celebrated dramatist, the delight and
ornament of the Roman stage, was born at Carthage, about the 560th year of
Rome. In what manner he came or was brought thither is uncertain. He was,
in early youth, the freedman of one Terentius Lucanus in that city, whose
name has been perpetuated only by the glory of his slave. After he had
obtained his freedom, he became the friend of Lælius, and of the younger
Scipio Africanus(299). His _Andria_ was not acted till the year 587—two
years, according to the Eusebian Chronicle, after the death of Cæcilius;
which unfortunately throws some doubt on the agreeable anecdote recorded
by Donatus, of his introduction, in a wretched garb, into the house of
Cæcilius, in order to read his comedy to that poet, by whom, as a mean
person, he was seated on a low stool, till he astonished him with the
matchless grace and elegance of the _Andria_, when he was placed on the
couch, and invited to partake the supper of the veteran dramatist. Several
writers have conjectured, it might be to another than to Cæcilius that
Terence read his comedy(300); or, as the _Andria_ is not indisputably his
first comedy, that it might be one of the others which he read to
Cæcilius(301). Supposing the Eusebian Chronicle to be accurate in the date
which it fixes for the death of Cæcilius, it is just possible, that
Terence may have written and read to him his _Andria_ two years previous
to its representation. After he had given six comedies to the stage,
Terence left Rome for Greece, whence he never returned. The manner of his
death, however, is altogether uncertain. According to one report, he
perished at sea, while on his voyage from Greece to Italy, bringing with
him an hundred and eight comedies, which he had translated from Menander:
according to other accounts, he died in Arcadia for grief at the loss of
those comedies, which he had sent before him by sea to Rome. In whatever
way it was occasioned, his death happened when he was at the early age of
thirty-four, and in the year 594 from the building of the city.
_Andria_,—acted in 587, is the first in point of time, and is usually
accounted the first in merit, of the productions of Terence. Like most of
his other comedies, it has a double plot. It is compounded of the
_Andrian_ and _Perinthian_ of Menander; but it does not appear, that
Terence took his principal plot from one of those Greek plays, and the
under-plot from the other. He employed both to form his chief fable; and
added the characters, on which the under plot is founded, from his own
invention, or from some third play now unknown to us.
At the commencement of the play, Simo, the father of Pamphilus, informs
Sosia of his son’s love for Glycerium. In consequence of a report of this
attachment spreading abroad, Chremes refuses his daughter, who had
previously been promised to Pamphilus in marriage: Simo, however, still
pretends to make preparations for the nuptials, in order more accurately
to ascertain the state of his son’s affections. Charinus, the lover of
Chremes’ daughter, is in despair at the prospect of this union; but he is
comforted by the assurances of Pamphilus, that he would do every thing in
his power to retard it. By this time, Davus, the slave of Pamphilus,
discovers, that it is not intended his master’s marriage should in reality
proceed; and, perceiving it is a pretext, he advises Pamphilus to declare
that he is ready to obey his father’s commands. Glycerium, meanwhile,
gives birth to a child; but Simo believes, that her reported delivery was
a stratagem of Davus, to deter Chremes from acceding to his daughter’s
marriage with Pamphilus. Simo, however, at length prevails on him to give
his consent. Pamphilus is thus placed in a most perplexing dilemma with
all parties. His mistress, Glycerium, and her attendants, believe him to
be false; while Charinus thinks that he had deceived him; and, as he had
given his consent to the marriage, he can form no excuse to his father or
Chremes for not concluding it. Hence his rage against Davus, and new
stratagems on the part of the slave to prevent the nuptials. He contrives
that Chremes should overhear a conversation between him and Mysis,
Glycerium’s attendant, concerning the child which her mistress bore to
Pamphilus, and Chremes in consequence instantly breaks off from his
engagement. In this situation, Crito arrives to claim heirship to Chrysis,
the reputed sister of Glycerium. He discloses, that Glycerium having been
shipwrecked in infancy, had been preserved by his kinsman, the father of
Chrysis; and, from his detail, it is discovered, that she is the daughter
of Chremes. There is thus no farther obstacle to her marriage with
Pamphilus; and the other daughter of Chremes is of course united to
Charinus.
The long narrative with which the _Andria_, like several other plays of
Terence, commences, and which is a component part of the drama itself, is
beautiful in point of style, and does not fail to excite our interest
concerning the characters. We perceive the compassion and even admiration
of Simo for Glycerium, and we feel that, if convinced of her respectable
birth and character, he would have preferred her to all others, even to
the daughter of Chremes. Glycerium, indeed, does not appear on the stage;
but her actual appearance could scarcely have added to the interest which
her hapless situation inspires. Simo is the model of an excellent father.
He is not so easily duped by his slaves as most of the old men in Plautus;
and his temper does not degenerate, like that of many other characters in
the plays of Terence, either into excessive harshness, or criminal
indulgence. His observations are strikingly just, and are the natural
language of age and experience. Chremes, the other old man, does not
divide our interest with Simo; yet we see just enough of his good
disposition, to make us sympathize with his happiness in the discovery of
a daughter. Pamphilus is rendered interesting by his tenderness for
Glycerium, and respect for his father. Davus supports the character of a
shrewd, cunning, penetrating slave; he is wholly devoted to the interests
of Pamphilus, but is often comically deterred from executing his
stratagems by dread of the lash of his old master. The part of Crito, too,
is happily imagined: His apprehension lest he be suspected of seeking an
inheritance to which he has no just title, and his awkward feelings on
coming to claim the wealth of a kinswoman of suspicious character, are
artfully unfolded. Even the gossip and absurd flattery of the midwife,
Lesbia, is excellent. The poet has also shewn considerable address in
portraying the character of Chrysis, who was supposed to be the sister of
Glycerium, but had died previous to the commencement of the action. In the
first scene, he represents her as having for a long while virtuously
struggled with adverse fortune, and having finally been precipitated into
vice rather by pressure of poverty than depravity of will; and afterwards,
in the pathetic account which Pamphilus gives of his last conference with
her, we insensibly receive a pleasing impression of her character, and
forget her errors for the sake of her amiable qualities. All this was
necessary, in order to prevent our forming a disadvantageous idea of
Glycerium, who had resided with Chrysis, but was afterwards to become the
wife of Pamphilus, and to be acknowledged as the daughter of Chremes.
This play has been imitated in the _Andrienne_ of Baron, the celebrated
French actor. The Latin names are preserved in the _dramatis personæ_, and
the first, second, and fifth acts, have been nearly translated from
Terence. In the fourth, however, instead of the marriage being interrupted
by Davus’s stratagem, Glycerium, hearing a report of the falsehood of her
lover, rushes on the stage, throws herself at the feet of Chremes, and
prevails on him to break off the intended match between his daughter and
Pamphilus. But, though the incidents are nearly the same, the dialogue is
ill written, and is very remote from the graceful ease and simplicity of
Terence.
Steele’s _Conscious Lovers_ is the best imitation of the _Andria_. The
English play, it will be remembered, commences in a similar manner with
the Latin comedy, by Sir John Bevil relating to an old servant, that he
had discovered the love of his son for Indiana, an unknown and stranger
girl, by his behaviour at a masquerade. The report of this attachment
nearly breaks off an intended marriage between young Bevil and Lucinda,
Sealand’s daughter. Young Bevil relieves the mind of Myrtle, the lover of
Lucinda, by assuring him that he is utterly averse to the match. Still,
however, he pretends to his father, that he is ready to comply with his
wishes; and, meanwhile, writes to Lucinda, requesting that she would
refuse the offer of his hand. Myrtle, hearing of this correspondence
having taken place, without knowing its import, is so fired with jealousy
that he sends Bevil a challenge. Sealand, being still pressed by Sir John
to bestow his daughter in marriage, waits on Indiana, in order to discover
the precise nature of her relations with Bevil. She details to him her
story; and, on his alluding to the probability of the projected nuptials
being soon concluded, she tears off, in a transport of passion, a
bracelet, by which Sealand discovers, that she is a daughter whom he had
lost, and who, while proceeding to join him in the East Indies, had been
carried into a French harbour, where she first met with young Bevil.
An English translator of Terence remarks, “That Steele has unfolded his
plot with more art than his predecessor, but is greatly his inferior in
delineation of character. Simo is the most finished character in the Latin
piece, but Sir John Bevil, who corresponds to him, is quite insignificant.
Young Bevil is the most laboured character in the _Conscious Lovers_, but
he is inferior to Pamphilus. His deceit is better managed by Terence than
Steele. Bevil’s supposed consent to marry is followed by no consequence;
and his honest dissimulation, as he calls it, is less reconcilable to the
philosophic turn of his character, than to the natural sensibility of
Pamphilus. Besides, the conduct of the latter is palliated, by being
driven to it by the artful instigations of Davus, who executes the lower
part of the stratagems, whereas Bevil is left entirely to his own
resources.” Bevil, indeed, in spite of his refinement and formality, his
admiration of the moral writers, and, “the charming vision of Mirza
consulted in a morning,” is a good deal of a _Plato-Scapin_. Indiana, who
corresponds to Glycerium, is introduced with more effect than the ladies
in the French plays imitated from Terence. Her tearing off her ornaments,
however, in a fit of despair, at the conclusion, is too violent. It is
inconsistent with the rest of her character; and we feel that she would
not have done so, had not the author found that the bracelet was necessary
for her recognition as the daughter of Sealand. The under plot is perhaps
better managed in the English than in the Latin play. Myrtle sustains a
part more essential to the principal fable than Charinus; and his
character is better discriminated from that of Bevil than those of the two
lovers in the _Andria_. The part of Cimberton, the other lover of Lucinda,
favoured by Mrs Sealand, is of Steele’s own contrivance; and of course,
also, the stratagem devised by Bevil, in which Myrtle and Tom pretend to
be lawyers, and Myrtle afterwards personates Sir Geoffry Cimberton, the
uncle of his rival.
The _Andria_ has also suggested those scenes of Moore’s _Foundling_, which
relate to the love of young Belmont, and the recognition of Fidelia as the
daughter of Sir Charles Raymond.
_Eunuchus_.—Though, in modern times, the _Andria_ has been the most
admired play of Terence, in Rome the _Eunuchus_ was by much the most
popular of all his performances, and he received for it 8000 sesterces,
the greatest reward which poet had ever yet obtained(302). In the
_Andria_, indeed, there is much grace and delicacy, and some tenderness;
but the _Eunuchus_ is so full of vivacity and fire, as almost to redeem
its author from the well-known censure of Cæsar, that there was no _vis
comica_ in his dramas.
The chief part of the _Eunuchus_ is taken from a play of the same title by
Menander; but the characters of the parasite and captain have been
transferred into it from another play of Menander, called _Kolax_. There
was an old play, too, by Nævius, founded on the _Kolax_; but Terence, in
his prologue, denies having been indebted to this performance.
The scenes of the _Eunuchus_ are so arranged, that the main plot is
introduced by that which is secondary, and which at first has the
appearance of being the principal one. Phædria is brought on the stage
venting his indignation at being excluded from the house of the courtezan
Thais, for the sake of Thraso, who is the sole braggart captain exhibited
in the plays of our author. Thais, however, succeeds in persuading Phædria
that she would admit Thraso only for two days, in order to obtain from him
the gift of a damsel who had originally belonged to the mother of Thais,
but after her death had been sold to the captain. Phædria, vying in gifts
with Thraso, presents his mistress with an Ethiopian eunuch. The younger
brother of Phædria, who is called Chærea, having accidentally seen the
maid presented to Thais by Thraso, falls in love with her, and, by a
stratagem of his father’s slave Parmeno, he is introduced as the eunuch to
the house of Thais, where he does not in all respects consistently support
the character he had assumed. After Chærea had gone off, his adventure was
discovered; and Pythias, the waiting maid of Thais, in revenge for
Parmeno’s fraud, tells him that Chærea, having been detected, was about to
be made precisely what he had pretended to be. Parmeno, believing this
report, informs the father of Chærea, who instantly rushes into the house
of Thais, (to which, by this time, his son had ventured to return,) and
being there relieved from his sudden apprehension, he consents the more
readily to the marriage of Chærea with the girl whom he had deluded, and
who is now discovered to be an Athenian citizen, and the sister of
Chremes. In this paroxysm of good humour, he also agrees that Phædria
should retain Thais as his mistress. Thraso and his parasite, Gnatho,
having been foiled in an attack on the house of Thais, enter into terms,
and, at the persuasion of Gnatho, Thraso is admitted into the society of
Phædria, and is allowed to share with him the favours of Thais.
There are thus, strictly speaking, three plots in the _Eunu__chus_, but
they are blended with inimitable art. The quarrel and reconciliation of
Thais and Phædria promote the marriage of Chærea with Pamphila, the girl
presented by Thraso to Thais. This gift again produces the dispute between
Phædria and Thais, and gives room for the imposture of Chærea. It is
unfortunate that the regard in which the ancient dramatists held the unity
of place, interposed between the spectators and the representation of what
would have been highly comical—the father discovering his son in the
eunuch’s habit in the house of Thais, the account of which has been thrown
into narrative. At the conclusion Thraso is permitted, with consent of
Phædria, to share the good graces of Thais; but, as has been remarked by
La Harpe(303) and Colman(304), and as indeed must be felt by every one who
reads the play, this termination is scarcely consistent with the manners
of gentlemen, and it implies the utmost meanness in Phædria to admit him
into his society, or to allow him a share in the favours of his mistress,
merely that he may defray part of the expense of her establishment.
The drama, however, is full of vivacity and intrigue. Through the whole
piece the author amuses us with his pleasantries, and in no scene
discovers that his fund of entertainment is exhausted. Most of the
characters, too, are happily sketched. Under Thais, Menander is supposed
to have given a representation of his own mistress Glycerium. On the
general nature of the parts of the parasite and braggart captain,
something has been said while treating of the dramas of Plautus; but
Terence has greatly refined and improved on these favourite characters of
his predecessor. Gnatho is master of a much more delicate and artful mode
of adulation than former flatterers, and supports his consequence with his
patron, at the same time that he laughs at him and lives on him. He
boasts, in the second scene of the second act, that he is the founder of a
new class of parasites, who ingratiated themselves with men of fortune and
shallow understandings, solely by humouring their fancies and admiring
what they said, instead of earning a livelihood by submitting to blows,
the ridicule of the company, and all manner of indignities, like the
antiquated race of parasites whom Plautus describes as beaten, kicked, and
abused at pleasure:—
“Et hîc quidem, hercle, nisi qui colaphos perpeti
Potis parasitus, frangique aulas in caput,
Vel ire extra portam trigeminam ad saccum libet.”
The new parasite, of whom Gnatho may be considered as the representative,
had been delineated in the characters of Theophrastus, and has more
resemblance to Shakspeare’s Osrick, or to the class of parasites described
by Juvenal as infesting the families of the Great in the latter ages of
Rome(305). Thraso, the braggart captain, in the _Eunuchus_, is ridiculous
enough to supply the audience with mirth, without indulging in the
extravagant bluster of Pyrgopolinices. A scene in the fourth act gives the
most lively representation of the conceit and ridiculous vanity of this
soldier, who, calling together a few slaves, pretends to marshal and draw
them up as if they formed a numerous army, and assumes all the airs of a
general. This part is so contrived, that nothing could have more happily
tended to make him appear ridiculous though he says nothing extravagant,
or beyond what might naturally be expected from the mouth of a coxcomb.
One new feature in Thraso’s character is his fondness for repeating his
jests, and passion for being admired as a wit no less than a warrior.
There is, perhaps, nowhere to be found a truer picture of the fond and
froward passion of love, than that which is given us in the character of
Phædria. Horace and Persius, when they purposely set themselves to expose
and exaggerate its follies, could imagine nothing beyond it. The former,
indeed, in the third satire of his second book, where he has given a
picture of the irresolution of lovers, has copied part of the dialogue
introduced near the commencement of the _Eunuchus_.
The love, however, both of Phædria and Chærea is more that of temperament
than sentiment: Of consequence, the _Eunuchus_ is inferior to the _Andria_
in delicacy and tenderness; but there are not wanting passages which excel
in these higher qualities. Addison has remarked(306), that Phædria’s
request to his mistress, on leaving her for a few days, is inimitably
beautiful and natural—
“Egone quid velim?
Cum Milite isto præsens, absens ut sies;
Dies noctesque me ames: me desideres:
Me somnies: me expectes: de me cogites:
Me speres: me te oblectes: mecum tota sis:
Meus fac sis postremo animus, quando ego sum tuus.”
This demand was rather exorbitant, and Thais had some reason to reply—_Me
miseram!_
There is an Italian imitation of the _Eunuchus_ in _La Talanta_, a comedy
by Aretine, in which the courtezan who gives the name to the play
corresponds with Thais, and her lover Orfinio to Phædria,—the
characteristic dispositions of both the originals being closely followed
in the copy. A youth, from his disguise supposed to be a girl, is
presented to La Talanta by Tinca, the Thraso of the piece, who, being
exasperated at the treatment he had received from the courtezan,
meditates, like Thraso, a military attack on her dwelling-house; and,
though easily repulsed, he is permitted at the conclusion, in respect of
his wealth and bounty, to continue to share with Orfinio the favours of La
Talanta.
There is more _lubricity_ in the _Eunuchus_ of Terence, than in any of his
other performances; and hence, perhaps, it has been selected by Fontaine
as the most suitable drama for his imitation. His _Eunuque_, as he very
justly remarks in his advertisement prefixed, “n’est qu’une mediocre copie
d’un excellent original.” Fontaine, instead of adapting the incidents to
Parisian manners, like Moliere and Regnard, in their delightful imitations
of Plautus, has retained the ancient names, and scene of action. The
earlier part is a mere translation from the Latin, except that the
character of Thais is softened down from a courtezan to a coquette. The
next deviation from the original is the omission of the recital by Chærea,
of the success of his audacious enterprize—instead of which, Fontaine has
introduced his Chærea professing honourable and respectful love to
Pamphile. In the unravelling of the dramatic plot, the French author has
departed widely from Terence. There is nothing of the alarm concerning
Chærea given by Thais’ maid to Parmeno, and by him communicated to the
father: The old man merely solicits Parmeno to prevail on his sons to
marry:—
“Il se veut desormais tenir clos et couvert,
Caresser, les pieds chauds, quelque Bru qui lui plaise,
Conter son jeune temps, et banqueter a son aise.”
This wish is doubly accomplished, by the discovery that Pamphile is of
reputable birth, and by Phædria’s reconciliation with Thais. While making
such changes on the conclusion, and accommodating it in some measure to
the feelings of the age, I am surprised that the French author retained
that part of the compact with Thraso, by which he is to remain in the
society of Phædria merely to be fleeced and ridiculed.