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]