II. Evidences of Loose Composition Which Prove a Disregard of Technique and Hence Indicate that Entertainment Was the Sole Aim
A. Solo speeches and passages.
1. Asides and soliloquies.
As it is often important for the audience to know the thoughts of stage characters, the aside and the soliloquy in all species of dramatic composition have always been recognized as the only feasible conventional mode of conveying them. According to the strictest canons of dramatic art, the ideally constructed play should be entirely free from this weakness. Mr. Gillette is credited with having written in "Secret Service" the first aside-less play. But this is abnormal and rather an affectation of technical skill. The aside is an accepted convention. But in the plays of Plautus we
have a profuse riot of solo speeches and passages that transcends the conventional and becomes a gross weakness of composition, pointing plainly to a poverty of technique and hence further strengthening the conception of entertainment as the author's sole purpose. And often too, as we shall point out, this very form can be used for amusement. To attempt a complete collection of these passages would mean a citation of hundreds of lines, comprising a formidable percentage of all the verses.
And furthermore, the Plautine character is not so tame and spiritless as merely to think aloud. He has a fondness for actual conversation with himself that shows a noble regard for the value of his own society. This is attested by many passages, such as Amph. 381: Etiam muttis?; Aul. 52: At ut scelesta sola secum murmurat; Aul. 190: Quid tu solus tecum loquere?; Bac. 773: Quis loquitur prope?; Cap. 133: Quis hic loquitur?[134]
One character standing aside and commenting on the main action is a familiar situation and often productive of good fun. An excellent example is Most. 166 ff., where Philematium is performing her conventionally out-door toilet with the aid of her duenna Scapha. Philolaches stands on the other side of the stage and interjects remarks:
"PHILEM. Look at me please, Scapha dear; is this gown becoming? I want to please Philolaches, the apple of my eye....
SC. Why deck yourself out, when your charm lies in your charming manners? It isn't gowns that lovers love, but what bellies out the gowns.
PHILO. (Aside.) God bless me, but Scapha's clever; the hussy has horse-sense....
PHILEM. (Pettishly.) Well, then?
SC. What is it?
PHILEM. Look me over anyhow and see how this becomes me.
SC. The grace of your figure makes everything you wear becoming.
PHILO. (Aside.) Now for that speech, Scapha, I'll give you some present before the day is out--and so on for a whole long scene.
The quips are amusing in an evident burlesque spirit. Such a scene was easily done on the broad Roman stage, whether it was a heritage from the use of the orchestra in Greek comedy, as LeGrand thinks,[135] or not. In similar vein, clever by-play on the part of the cunning Palaestrio would make a capital scene out of Mil. 1037 ff.[136] A perfectly unnatural but utterly amusing scene of the same type is Amph. 153-262, where Mercury apostrophizes his fists, and the quaking Sosia (cross-stage) is frightened to a jelly at the prospect of his early demise. In Cap. 966, Ilegio, staid gentleman that he is, introduces an exceeding "rough" remark in the middle of a serious scene. The aside of Pseudolus in Ps. 636 f. could be rendered as a good-natured burlesque as follows:
"HARPAX. What's your name?
PS. (Hopping forward and addressing audience with hand over mouth.) The pander has a slave named Surus. I'll say I'm he. (Hopping back and addressing Harpax.) I'm Surus." Many other scenes were doubtless rendered by one character's thus stepping aside and confiding his ideas to the spectators, as for example Aul. 194 ff. and Trin. 895 ff. Often our characters blurt out their inmost thoughts to the public, as in Cas. 937 ff., with eavesdroppers conveniently placed, else what would become of the plot?
The soliloquy is constantly used to keep the audience acquainted with the advance of the plot[137], or to paint in narrative intervening events that connect the loose joints of the action. This is of course wholly inartistic, but may often find its true office in keeping a noisy, turbulent and uneducated audience aware of "what is going on." In many cases the soliloquy is in the nature of a reflection on the action and seems to bear all the ear-marks of a heritage from the original function of the tragic chorus[138]. It devolved upon the actor by sprightly mimicry to relieve, in these scenes, the tedium that appeals to the reader. So in Cap. 909 ff. the canticum of the puer becomes more than a mere stopgap, if he acts out vividly the violence of Ergasilus; and in Bac. 1067 ff. the soliloquy would acquire humor, if confidentially directed at the audience. In As. 127 ff., as Argyrippus berates the lena within, it must be delivered with an abundance of pantomime.
2. Lengthy monodies, monologues and episodical specialties.
Frequently the soliloquy takes the form of a long solo passage directed at the audience, while the action halts for a whole scene to allow the actor to regale his public with the poet's views on the sins of society, economic topics of the day, or topics of the by-gone days in Athens, and the like. The resemblance to the interpolated song and dance of musical comedy is most striking. The comparison is the more apt, as about two-thirds of the illustrative scenes referred to in the next paragraph are in canticum. It is a pity that the comic chorus had disappeared, or the picture were complete. That it is often on the actor's initial appearance that he sings his song or speaks his piece, strengthens the resemblance. But this is a natural growth under the influence of two publics, the Greek and the Roman, notably fond of declamation and oratory. LeGrand believes this a characteristic directly derived from a narrative form of Middle Comedy embodied in certain extant fragments.[139]
The slave class is the topic of many of these monodies: either the virtues of the loyal slave are extolled[140], or the knavery of the cunning slave[141]. The parasite is "featured" too, when Ergasilus bewails the decline of his profession[142], or Peniculus and Gelasimus indulge in haunting threnody on their perpetual lack of food[143]. Bankers, lawyers and panders come in for their share of satire[144]. Our favorite topic today, the frills and furbelows of woman's dress and its reform, held the boards of ancient Athens and Rome[145]. In Mil. 637 ff, Periplecomenus descants on the joys of the old bon vivant and the expense of a wife. The delights or pains of love[146], the ruminations of old age[147], marriage reform[148] and divorce[149], the views of meretrices and their victims on the arts of their profession[150], the habits of cooks[151], the pride of valor and heroic deeds[152] are fruitful subjects. In Cur. 462 ff. the choragus interpolates a recital composed of topical allusions to the manners of different neighborhoods of Rome. We have two descriptions of dreams[153], and a clever bit which paints a likeness between a man and a house[154]. In foreign vein is the lament of Palaestra in Rud. 185 ff., which sounds like an echo from tragedy. The appearance of the Fishermen's Chorus (Rud. 290 ff.) is wholly adventitious and seems designed to intensify the atmosphere of the seacoast, if indeed it has any purpose at all. In this category also belong the revels of the drunken Pseudolus with his song and dance[155], and the final scene of the St.[156], where, the action of the slender plot over, the comedy slaves royster and dance with the harlot. When Ballio drives his herd before him, as he berates them merrily to the tune of a whip, we have an energetic and effective scene[157].
3. Direct address of the audience.
It is a well-established principle that the most intimate cognizance of the spectator's existence is a characteristic of the lowest types of dramatic production (v. Part I, § 1, fin.). The use of soliloquy, aside and monologue all indicate the effort of the lines to put the player on terms of intimacy with his public. But even this is transcended by the frequent recurrence in jocular vein of deliberate, conscious and direct address of the audience, when they are called by name. In Truc. 482 Stratophanes says: Ne expectetis, spectatores, meas pugnas dum praedicem.... In Poen Truc. 597 we are told: Aurumst profecto hic, spectatores, sed comicum; i. e., "stage-money." During a halt in the action of the Ps. (573) we are graciously informed: Tibicen vos interibi hic delectaverit. Mercury's comments (Amph. 449-550 passim), probably with copious buffoonery, on the leave-taking of Jove and Alemena contain the remark (507): Observatote, quam blande mulieri palpabitur. At the close of the Men. (1157 ff.) Messenio announces an auction and invites the spectators to attend.
When Euclio discovers the loss of his hoard, he rushes forth in wild lament. In his extremity he turns to the audience (Aul. 715 ff.):
"EUC. I beg, I beseech, I implore you, help me and show me the man that stole it. (Picking out one of the spectators, probably a tough looking "bruiser", and stretching out his hand to him.) What do you say? I know I can trust you. I can tell by your face you're honest. (To the whole audience, in response to the laughter sure to ensue.) What's the matter? What are you laughing at?" etc.
Moilère has imitated this scene very closely in L'Avare (IV. 7), with a super-Plautine profusion of verbiage.
In Mil. 200 ff. Periplecomenus obligingly acts as guide and personal conductor to the manoeuvers of Palaestrio's mind, while it is in the throes of evolving a stratagem. Palaestrio of course indulges in vivid, pointed pantomime:
"PER. I'll step aside here awhile. (To audience, pointing to Palaestrio.) Look yonder, please, how he stands with serried brow in anxious contemplation. His fingers smite his breast; I trow, he fain would summon forth his heart. Presto, change! His left hand he rests upon his left thigh. With the fingers of his right he reckons out his scheme. Ha! He whacks his right thigh!" etc.
It is very amusing too, when Jupiter in Amph. 861 ff. strolls in and speaks his little piece to the pit:
"JUP. I am the renowned Amphitruo, whose slave is Sosia; you know, the fellow that turns into Mercury at will. I dwell in my sky-parlor and become Jupiter the while, ad libitum."[158]
Even in olden times Euanthius censured this practice (de Com. III. 6)[159]: <Terentius> nihil ad populum facit actorem velut extra comoediam loqui, quod vitium Plauti frequentissimum.
Naturally we shall hardly consider under this head the speech of the whole grex, or the "Nunc plaudite" of an actor that closes a number of the plays. It is no more than the bowing or curtain-calls of today[160], unless it was an emphatic announcement to the audience that the play was over.
B. Inconsistencies and carelessness of composition.
We have referred above to the voluminous mass of inconsistencies, contradictions and psychological improbabilities collected by Langen in his Plautinische Studien. He really succeeds in finding the crux of the situation in recognizing that these features are inherent in Plautus' style and are frequently employed solely for comic effect, though he is often overcome by a natural Teutonic stolidity. He aptly points out that Plautus in his selection of originals has in the main chosen plots with more vigorous action than Terence. We shall have occasion to quote him at intervals, but desire to develop this topic quite independently.
1. Pointless badinage and padded scenes.
Strong evidence of loose construction and lack of a technical dramatic ideal is contained in the large number of scenes padded out with pointless badinage, often tiresome, often wholly episodical in nature, as the monodies, and putting for a time a complete check on the plot. The most striking of these is Aul. 631 ff., when Euclio, suspecting Strobilus of the theft of his gold, pounces upon him and belabors him:
"STR. (Howling and dancing and making violent efforts to free himself.) What the plague has got hold of you? What have you to do with me, you dotard? Why pick on me? Why are you grabbing me? Don't beat me! (Succeeds in breaking loose.)
EUC. (Shaking stick at him.) You first-class jailbird, do you dare ask me again? You're not a thief, but three thieves rolled into one!
STR. (Whining and nursing bruises) What did I steal from you?
EUC. (Still threatening.) Give it back here, I say?
STR. (Trembling and edging off.) What is it you want me to give back?
EUC. (Watching him narrowly.) You ask?
STR. I tell you, I didn't take a thing from you.
EUC. (Impatiently.) All right, but hand over what you did take! (Pause.) Well, well!
STR. Well, what?
EUC. You can't get away with it.
STR. (Bolder.) Look here, what do you want?...
EUC. (Angrier and angrier.) Hand it over, I say! Stop quibbling! I'm not trifling now!
STR. Now what shall I hand over? Speak out! Why don't you give the thing a name? I swear I never touched or handled anything of yours.
EUC. Put out your hands.
STR. There you are! I've done so. See them?
EUC. (Scrutinizing his hands closely.) All right. Now put out the third too.
STR. (Aside, growing angry.) The foul fiends of madness have possessed this doddering idiot. (Majestically.) Confess you wrong me?
EUC. (Dancing in frenzy.) To the utmost, since I don't have you strung up! And that's what'll happen too, if you don't confess.
STR. (Shouting.) Confess what?
EUC. What did you steal from here? (Pointing to his house.)
STR. Strike me if I stole anything of yours, (Aside to audience) and if I don't wish I'd made off with it.
EUC. Come now, shake out your cloak.
STR. (Doing so.) As you please.
EUC. (Stooping to see if anything falls out.) Haven't got it under your shirt? (Pounces upon him and ransacks clothing.)
STR. (Resignedly.) Search me, if you like;" and so on with "Give it back," What is it? "Put out your right hand," etc., etc.
Molière again imitated almost slavishly (L'Avare, V. 3). Longwinded as the thing is, it is clear that the liveliness of the action not only relieves it, but could make it immensely amusing. At least it is superior to the average vaudeville skit of the present day. It must not be forgotten too that, as Plautus was in close touch with his players, he could have done much of the stage-directing himself and might even have worked up some parts to fit the peculiar talents of certain actors, as is regularly done in the modern "tailormade drama."
There are numbers of scenes of the sort quoted above, where the apparent monotony and verbal padding could be converted into coin for laughter by the clever comedian. Amph. 551-632 could be worked up poco a poco crescendo e animato; in Poen. 504 ff., Agorastocles and the Advocati bandy extensive rhetoric; in Trin. 276 ff., the action is suspended while Philto proves himself Polonius' ancestor in his long-winded sermonizing to Lysiteles and his insistent laudatio temporis acti; in St. 326 ff., as Pinacium, the servus currens, finally succeeds in "arriving" out of breath (he has been running since 274), bursting with the vast importance of his news, he postpones the delivery of his tidings till 371 while he indulges in irrelevant badinage. This is pure buffoonery. And we can instance scene upon scene where the self-evident padding can either furnish an excuse for agile histrionism, or become merely tiresome in its iteration[161]. The danger of the latter was even recognized by our poet, when, at the end of much word-fencing, Acanthio asks Charinus if his desire to talk quietly is prompted by fear of waking "the sleeping spectators" (Mer. 160). This was probably no exaggeration.
When the padding takes the form of mutual "spoofing," the scene assumes an uncanny likeness to the usual lines of a modern "high-class vaudeville duo." Note Leonida and Libanus, the merry slaves of the As. in 297 ff., Toxilus and Sagaristio in the Per., Milphio and Syncerastus in the Poen. (esp. 851 ff.), Pseudolus and Simia in Ps. 905 ff., Trachalio and Gripus in Rud. 938 ff., Stichus and Sagarinus in the final scene of the St., and in Ps. 1167 ff. Harpax is unmercifully "chaffed" by Simo and Ballio. Or, in view of the surrounding drama, we might better compare these roysterers to the "team" of low comedians often grafted on a musical comedy, where their antics effectually prevent the tenuous plot from becoming vulgarly prominent.
2. Inconsistencies of character and situation.
The Plautine character is never a consistent human character. He is rather a personified trait, a broad caricature on magnified foibles of some type of mankind. There is never any character development, no chastening. We leave our friends as we found them. They may exhibit the outward manifestation of grief, joy, love, anger, but their marionette nature cannot be affected thereby. That we should find inconsistencies in character portrayal under these circumstances, is not only to be expected, but is a mathematical certainty. The poet cares not; they must only dance, dance, dance!
Persistent moralizers, such as Megaronides in the Trin., who serve but as a foil from whom the revelry "sticks fiery off," descend themselves at moments to bandying the merriest quips (Scene I.). In Ep. 382 ff., the moralizing of Periphanes is counterfeit coinage. Gilded youths such as Calidorus of the Ps. begin by asking (290 f.): "Could I by any chance trip up father, who is such a wide-awake old boy?", and end by rolling their eyes upward with: "And besides, if I could, filial piety prevents." The Menaechmi twins are eminently respectable, but they cheerfully purloin mantles, bracelets and purses. Hanno of the Poen. should according to specifications be a staid pater familias, but Plautus imputes to him a layer of the Punica fides that he knew his public would take delight in "booing." And the old gentleman enters into a plot (1090) to chaff elaborately his newly-found long-lost daughters, whom he has spent a lifetime in seeking, before disclosing his identity to them (1211 ff.). Saturio's daughter in the Per. is at one time the very model of maidenly modesty and wisdom (336 ff.), at others an accomplished intriguante and demi-mondaine (549 ff., esp. 607 ff.). When the plot of the Ep. is getting hopelessly tangled, of a sudden it is magically resolved as by a deus ex machina and everybody decides to "shake and make up."
Slaves ever fearful of the mills or quarries are yet prone to the most abominable "freshness" towards their masters. The irrepressible Pseudolus in reading a letter from Calidorus' mistress says (27 ff.):
"What letters! Humph! I'm afraid the Sibyl is the only person capable of interpreting these.
"CAL. Oh why do you speak so rudely of those lovely letters written on a lovely tablet with a lovely hand?
"PS. Well, would you mind telling me if hens have hands? For these look to me very like hen-scratches.
"CAL. You insulting beast! Read, or return the tablet!
"PS. Oh, I'll read all right, all right. Just focus your mind on this.
"CAL. (Pointing vacantly to his head.) Mind? It's not here.
"PS. What! Go get one quick then![162]."
In order that the machinations of these cunning slaves may mature, it is usually necessary to portray their victims as the veriest fools. Witness the cock-and-bull story by which Stasimus, in Trin. 515 ff., convinces Philto that his master's land is an undesirable real estate prospect. Dordalus in Per. (esp. 493 ff.) exhibits a certain amount of caution in face of Toxilus' "confidence game," but that he should be victimized at all stamps him as a caricature.
LeGrand is certainly right in pronouncing the cunning slave a pure convention, adapted from the Greek and so unsuitable to Roman society that even Plautus found it necessary to apologize for their unrestrained gambols, on the ground that 'that was the way they did in Athens!'[163]
Certain of the characters are caricatures par excellence, embodiments of a single attribute. Leaena of the Cur. is the perpetually thirsty lena: "Wine, wine, wine!"[164] Cleaerata of the As. is a plain caricature, but is exceptionally cleverly drawn as the lena with the mordant tongue. Phronesium's thirst in the Truc., is gold, gold, gold! The danista of the Most. finds the whole expression of his nature in the cry of "Faenus!"[165] Assuredly, he is the progenitor of the modern low-comedy Jew: "I vant my inderesd!" Calidorus of the Ps. and Phaedromus of the Cur. are but bleeding hearts dressed up in clothes. The milites gloriosi are all cartoons;[166] and the perpetually moralizing pedagogue Lydus of the Bac. becomes funny, instead of egregiously tedious, if acted as a broad burlesque.
The panders[167] are all manifest caricatures, too, especially the famous Ballio of the Ps., whom even Lorenz properly describes as "der Einbegriff aller Schlechtigkeit," though he deprecates the part as "eine etwas zu grell and zu breit angefuhrte Schilderung."[168] "Ego scelestus," says Ballio himself.[169] He calmly and unctuously pleads guilty to every charge of "liar, thief, perjurer," etc., and can never be induced to lend an ear until the cabalistic charm "Lucrum!" is pronounced (264).
The famous miser Euclio has given rise to an inordinate amount of unnecessary comment. Lamarre[170] is at great pains to defend Plautus from "le reproche d'avoir introduit dans la peinture de son principal personnage <Euclio> des traits outres et hors de nature." Indeed, he possesses few traits in accord with normal human nature. But curiously enough, as we learn from the argumenta (in view of the loss of the genuine end of the Aul.), Euclio at the denouement professes himself amply content to bid an everlasting farewell to his stolen hoard, and bestows his health and blessing on "the happy pair." This apparent conversion, with absolutely nothing dramatic to furnish an introduction or pretext for it, has caused Langen to depart from his usual judicious scholarship. After much hair-splitting he solemnly pronounces it "psychologically possible."[171] LeGrand points out[172] that his change of heart is not a conversion, but merely a professed reconciliation to the loss. But there is no need for all this pother. The simple truth is that Plautus was through with his humorous complication and was ready to top it off with a happy ending. It is the forerunner of modern musical comedy, where the grouchy millionaire papa is propitiated at the last moment (perhaps by the pleadings of the handsome widow), and similarly consents to his daughter's marriage with the handsome, if impecunious, ensign.
3. Looseness of dramatic construction.
Lorenz with commendable insight has pointed out[173] that Τύχη, the goddess of Chance, is the motive power of the Plautine plot, as distinguished from the μοῖρα of tragedy. A student of Plautus readily recognizes this point. The entire development of the Rud. and Poen. exemplifies it in the highest degree. Hanno in the Poen., in particular, meets first of all, in the strange city of Calydon, the very man he is looking for! When Pseudolus is racking his wits for a stratagem, Harpax obligingly drops in with all the requisites. The ass-dealer in the As. is so ridiculously fortuitous that it savors of childlike naiveté.
Characters are perpetually entering just when wanted. We hear "Optume advenis" and "Eccum ipsum video" so frequently that they become as meaningless as "How d'ye do!"[174]; though, as shown above[175], even this very weakness could at moments be made the pretext for a mild laugh.
For a complete catalogue of the formidable mass of inconsistencies and contradictions that throng the plays, the reader is referred to the Plautinische Studien of Langen, as aforesaid. It will be of passing interest to recall one or two. In Cas. 530 Lysidamus goes to the "forum" and returns 32 verses later complaining that he has wasted the whole day standing "advocate" for a kinsman. But this difficulty is resolved, if we accept the theory of Prof. Kent (TAPA. XXXVII), that the change of acts which occurs in between, is a conventional excuse for any lapse of time, in Roman comedy as well as in Greek tragedy. But it is extremely doubtful that Prof. Kent succeeds in establishing the truth of this view in the case of Roman comedy. We see no convincing reason for departing from the accepted theory, as expressed by Duff (A Literary History of Rome, pp. 196-7): "In Plautus' time a play proceeded continuously from the lowering of the curtain at the beginning to its rise at the end, save for short breaks filled generally by simple music from the tibicen (Ps. 573). The division into scenes is ancient and regularly indicated in manuscripts of Plautus and Terence."
Langen seems surprised[176] when Menaechmus Sosicles, on beholding his twin for the first time (Men. 1062), though he was the object of a six years' search, wades through some twenty lines of amazed argument before Messenio (with marvelous cunning!) hits on the true explanation. It is of course conceived in a burlesque spirit. What would become of the comic action if Menaechmus II simply walked up to Menaechmus I and remarked: "Hello, brother, don't you remember me?"
That the seven months of Most. 470 miraculously change into six months in 954 is the sort of mistake possible to any writer. In the Amph. 1053 ff., Alcmena is in labor apparently a few minutes after consorting with Jupiter; but the change of acts may account for the lapse of time, here as in Cas. 530 ff.
But after the exhaustive work of Langen, we need linger no longer in this well-ploughed field. We repeat, the evidence all points irresistibly to the conclusion that Plautus is wholly careless of his dramatic machinery so long as it moves. The laugh's the thing!
The St. is an apt illustration of the probable workings of Plautus' mind. The virtue of the Penelope-like Pamphila and Panegyris proves too great a strain and unproductive of merriment. The topic gradually vanishes as the drolleries of the parasite Gelasimus usurp the boards. He in turn gives way to the hilarious buffoonery of the two slaves. The result is a succession of loose-jointed scenes[177]. The Aul. too is fragmentary and episodical. The Trin. is insufferably long-winded, with insufficient comic accompaniment. The Cis. is a wretched piece of vacuous inanity[178].
4. Roman admixture and topical allusions.
Plautus' frequent forgetfulness of his Greek environment and the interjection of Roman references--what De Quincey calls "anatopism"--is another item of careless composition too well known to need more than passing mention. The repeated appearance of the Velabrum,[179] or Capitolium,[180] or circus,[181] or senatus, or dictator,[182] or centuriata comitio,[183] or plebiscitum,[184] and a host of others in the Greek investiture, becomes after a while a matter of course to us. We see however no need to quarrel with forum; it was Plautus' natural translation for ἀγορά. But it all adds inevitably and relentlessly to our argument--Plautus was heedless of the petty demands of technique and realism. His attention was too much occupied in devising means of amusement.
The occasional topical allusions belong in the same category as above; for example, the allusion to the Punic war (Cis. 202),[185] the lex Platoria (Ps. 303, Rud. 1381-2), Naevius' imprisonment (Mil. 211-2), Attalus of Pergamum (Per. 339, Poen. 664), Antiochus the Great (Poen. 693-4). Again we have a modern parallel: the topics of the day are a favorite resort of the lower types of present-day stage production.
5. Jokes on the dramatic machinery.
But the most extreme stage of intimate jocularity is reached when the last sorry pretense of drama is discarded and the dramatic machinery itself becomes the subject of jest. So in the Cas. 1006 the cast is warned: Hanc ex longa longiorem ne faciamus fabulam. In Per. 159-60 Saturio wants to know where to get his daughter's projected disguise:
"SAT. πόθεν ornamenta?
TOX. Abs chorago sumito. Dare debet: praebenda aediles locaverunt." (Cf. Trin. 858.)
Even the Ps., heralded as dramatically one of the best of the plays, yields the following: Horum caussa haec agitur spectatorum fabula (720); hanc fabulam dum transigam (562) and following speech; verba quae in comoediis solent lenoni dici (1081-2); quam in aliis comoediis fit (1240); quin vocas spectatores simul? (1332). In St. 715 ff., the action of the play is interrupted while the boisterous slaves give the musician a drink. From the Poen. comes a gem that will bear quoting at length (550 ff.):
Omnia istaec scimus iam nos, si hi spectatores sciant.
Horunc hic nunc causa haec agitur spectatorum fabula:
Hos te satius est docere ut, quando agas, quid agas sciant.
Nos tu ne curassis: scimus rem omnem, quippe omnes simul.
Didicimus tecum una, ut respondere possimus tibi.[186]
This is the final degeneration into the realm of pure foolery. It is a patent declaration: "This is only a play; laugh and we are content." Once more we venture to point a parallel on the modern stage, in the vaudeville comedian who interlards his dancing with comments such as: "I hate to do this, but it's the only way I can earn a living."
6. Use of stock plots and characters.
We must touch finally, but very lightly, on the commonplaces of stock plots and characters. The whole array of puppets is familiar to us all: the cunning slave, the fond or licentious papa, the spendthrift son and their inevitable confrères appear in play after play with relentless regularity. The close correspondence of many plots is also too familiar to need discussion.[187] The glimmering of originality in the plot of the Cap. called for special advertisement.[188] In the light of the foregoing evidence, the pertinence of these facts for us, we reiterate, is that Plautus merely adopted the New Comedy form as his comic medium, and, while leaving his originals in the main untouched, took what liberties he desired with them, with the single-minded purpose of making his public laugh.[189]