[…] ὠς μὲν κοινῶς καὶ καθόλου εἰπεῖν πολλῷ προκρίνει τὸν Μένανδρον, ὡς δʼ ἐπὶ μέρους καὶ ταῦτα προστίθησι τὸ φορτικόν φησὶν ἐν λόγοις καὶ θυμελικὸν καὶ βάναυσον ὥς ἐστιν Ἀριστοφάνει, Μενάνδρῳ δʼ οὐδαμῶς. καὶ γὰρ ὁ μὲν ἀπαίδευτος καὶ ἰδιώτης, οἷς ἐκεῖνος λέγει, ἁλίσκεται ὁ δὲ πεπαιδευμένος δυσχερανεῖ· λέγω δὲ τὰ ἀντίθετα καὶ ὁμοιόπτωτα καὶ παρωνυμίας. τούτοις γὰρ ὁ μὲν μετὰ τοῦ προσήκοντος λόγου καὶ ὀλιγάκις χρῆται ἐπιμελείας αὐτὰ ἀξιῶν, ὁ δὲ καὶ πολλάκις καὶ οὐκ εὐκαίρως καὶ ψυχρῶς· ἐπαινεῖται γάρ φησὶν ʼ ὅτι τοὺς ταμίας ἐβάπτισεν, οὐχὶ ταμίας ἀλλὰ Λαμίας ὄντας· καὶ οὗτος ἤτοι καικίας ἢ συκοφαντίας πνεῖ καὶ γάστριζε καὶ τοῖς ἐντέροις καὶ τοῖς κόλοις καὶ ὑπὸ τοῦ γέλωτος εἰς Γέλαν ἀφίξομαι καὶ τί δῆτα σοι δράσω, κακόδαιμον, ἀμφορεὺς ἑξοστρακισθείς; καὶ ἄγρια γὰρ ἡμᾶς, ὦ γυναῖκες, δρᾷ κακά, / ἅτʼ ἐν ἀγρίοισι τοῖς λαχάνοις αὐτὸς τραφείς / καὶ ἀλλʼ ἦ τριχόβρωτες τὸν λόφον μου κατέφαγον καὶ φέρε δεῦρο γοργόνωτον ἀσπίδος κύκλον. / κἀμοὶ πλακοῦντος τυρόνωτον δὸς κύκλον / καὶ πολλὰ τοιαῦτα. ἔνεστι μὲν οὖν ἐν τῇ κατασκευῇ τῶν ὀνομάτων αὐτῷ τὸ τραγικὸν τὸ κωμικὸν τὸ σοβαρὸν τὸ πεζόν, ἀσάφεια κοινότης, ὄγκος καὶ δίαρμα, σπερμολογία καὶ φλυαρία ναυτιώδης. καὶ τοσαύτας διαφορὰς ἔχουσα καὶ ἀνομοιότητας ἡ λέξις οὐδὲ τὸ πρέπον ἑκάστῃ καὶ οἰκεῖον ἀποδίδωσιν οἷον λέγω βασιλεῖ τὸν ὄγκον ῥήτορι τὴν δεινότητα γυναικὶ τὸ ἁπλοῦν ἰδιώτῃ τὸ πεζὸν ἀγοραίῳ τὸ φορτικόν· ἀλλʼ ὥσπερ ἀπὸ κλήρου ἀπονέμει τοῖς προσώποις τὰ προστυχόντα τῶν ὀνομάτων, καὶ οὐκ ἂν διαγνοίης εἴθʼ υἱός ἐστιν εἴτε πατὴρ εἴτʼ, ἄγροικος εἴτε θεὸς εἴτε γραῦς εἴθʼ ἣρως ὁ διαλεγόμενος.
To speak in sum and in general, he prefers Menander by far; and as to particulars, he adds what here ensues. Aristophanes, he saith, is importune, theatric, and sordid in his expression; but Menander not so at all. For the rude and vulgar person is taken with the things the former speaketh; but the well-bred man will be quite out of humor with them. I mean, his opposed terms, his words of one cadence, and his derivatives. For the one makes use of these with due observance and but seldom, and bestows care upon them; but the other frequently, unseasonably, and frigidly. For he is much commended, said he, for ducking the chamberlains, they being indeed not chamberlains (ταμίαι) but bugbears (Λαμίαι). And again,—This rascal breathes out nothing but roguery and affidavitry; and Beat him well in his belly with the entrails and the guts; and, I shall laugh till I go to Laughington (Γέλαν); and, Thou poor sharded ostracized pot, what shall I do with thee? and, To you women surely he is a mad plague, for he grew up himself among these mad worts;—and, Look here, how the moths have eaten away my crest; and, Bring me hither the gorgon-backed circle of my shield; Give me the round-backed circle of a cheese-cake;—and much more of such like stuff. There is then in the structure of his words something tragic and something comic, something blustering and something prosaic, an obscurity, a vulgarness, a turgidness, and a strutting, with a nauseous prattling and fooling And as his style has so great varieties and dissonances in it, so neither doth he give to his persons what is fitting and proper to each,—as state (for instance) to a prince, force to an orator, innocence to a woman, meanness of language to a poor man, and sauciness to a tradesman,—but he deals out to every person, as it were by lot, such words as come next to his hand, and you would scarce discern whether he that is talking be a son, a father, a peasant, a God, an old woman, or a hero.
ἡ δὲ Μενάνδρου φράσις οὕτω συνέξεσται καὶ συμπέπνευκε κεκραμένη πρὸς ἑαυτήν, ὥστε διὰ πολλῶν ἀγομένη παθῶν καὶ ἠθῶν καὶ προσώποις ἐφαρμόττουσα παντοδαποῖς μία τε φαίνεσθαι καὶ τὴν ὁμοιότητα τηρεῖν ἐν τοῖς κοινοῖς καὶ συνήθεσι καὶ ὑπὸ τὴν χρείαν ὀνόμασιν· ἐὰν δέ τινος ἄρα ν τερατείας εἰς τὸ πρᾶγμα καὶ ψόφου δεήσῃ, καθάπερ αὐλοῦ πάντρητον ἀνασπάσας ταχὺ πάλιν καὶ πιθανῶς ἐπέβαλε καὶ κατέστησε τὴν φωνὴν εἰς τὸ οἰκεῖον. πολλῶν δὲ γεγονότων εὐδοκίμων τεχνιτῶν, οὔθʼ ὑπόδημα δημιουργὸς οὔτε προσωπεῖον σκευοποιὸς οὔτε τις ἱμάτιον ἅμα ταὐτὸν ἀνδρὶ καὶ γυναικὶ καὶ μειρακίῳ καὶ γέροντι καὶ οἰκότριβι πρέπον ἐποίησεν· ἀλλὰ Μένανδρος; οὕτως ἔμιξε τὴν λέξιν, ὥστε πάσῃ καὶ φύσει καὶ διαθέσει καὶ ἡλικίᾳ σύμμετρον εἶναι, καὶ ταῦτα νέος μὲν ἔτι τοῦ πράγματος ἁψάμενος, ἐν ἀκμῇ δὲ τοῦ ποιεῖν καὶ διδάσκειν τελευτήσας, ὅτε μάλιστα καὶ πλείστην ἐπίδοσιν, ὡς Ἀριστοτέλης φησί, λαμβάνει τὰ περὶ τὴν λέξιν τοῖς γράφουσιν. εἰ οὖν πρὸς τὰ πρῶτα τῶν Μενάνδρου δραμάτων τὰ μέσα καὶ τὰ τελευταῖα παραβάλοι τις, ἐξ αὐτῶν ἐπιγνώσεται, ὅσα ἔμελλεν, εἰ ἐπεβίω, καὶ τούτοις ἕτερα προσθήσειν.
But now Menander’s phrase is so well turned and contempered with itself, and so everywhere conspiring, that, while it traverses many passions and humors and is accommodated to all sorts of persons, it still shows the same, and even retains its semblance in trite, familiar, and every-day expressions. And if his master do now and then require something of rant and noise, he doth but (like a skilful flutist) set open all the holes of his pipe, and then presently stop them again with good decorum and restore the tune to its natural state. And though there be a great number of excellent artists of all professions, yet never did any shoemaker make the same sort of shoe, or tireman the same sort of visor, or tailor the same sort of garment, to fit a man, a woman, a child, an old man, and a slave. But Menander hath so addressed his style, as to proportion it to every sex, condition, and age; and this, though he took the business in hand when he was very young, and died in the vigor of his composition and action, when, as Aristotle tells us, authors receive most and greatest improvement in their styles. If a man shall then compare the middle and last with the first of Menander’s plays, he will by them easily conceive what others he would have added to them, had he had but longer life.
ὅτι τῶν διδασκόντων οἱ μὲν πρὸς τὸν ὄχλον καὶ τὸν δῆμον γράφουσιν οἱ δὲ τοῖς ὀλίγοις, τὸ δʼ ἐν ἀμφοῖν ἁρμόττον τοῖς γένεσιν οὐ ῥᾴδιον ὅτῳ τῶν πάντων ὑπῆρξεν εἰπεῖν. Ἀριστοφάνης μὲν οὖν οὔτε τοῖς πολλοῖς ἀρεστὸς οὔτε τοῖς φρονίμοις ἀνεκτός, ἀλλʼ ὥσπερ ἑταίρας τῆς ποιήσεως παρηκμακυίας, εἶτα μιμουμένης γαμετήν, οὔθʼ οἱ πολλοὶ τὴν αὐθάδειαν ὑπομένουσιν οἵ τε σεμνοὶ βδελύττονται τὸ ἀκόλαστον καὶ κακόηθες. ὁ δὲ Μένανδρος; μετὰ χαρίτων μάλιστα ἑαυτὸν αὐτάρκη παρέσχηκεν, ἐν θεάτροις ἐν διατριβαῖς ἐν συμποσίοις, ἀνάγνωσμα καὶ μάθημα καὶ ἀγώνισμα κοινότατον ὧν ἡ Ἑλλὰς ἐνήνοχε καλῶν παρέχων, τὴν ποίησιν, δεικνὺς ὅ τι δὴ καὶ ὁποῖον ἦν ἄρα δεξιότης λόγου, ἐπιὼν ἁπανταχόσε μδτὰ πειθοῦς ἀφύκτου καὶ χειρούμενος ἅπασαν ἀκοὴν καὶ διάνοιαν Ἑλληνικῆς φωνῆς· τίνος γὰρ ἄξιον ἀληθῶς εἰς θέατρον ἐλθεῖν ἄνδρα πεπαιδευμένον ἢ Μενάνδρου ἕνεκα; πότε θέατρα πίμπλαται ἀνδρῶν φιλολόγων, κωμικοῦ προσώπου δειχθέντος; ἐν δὲ συμποσίοις τίνι δικαιότερον ἡ τράπεζα παραχωρεῖ καὶ τόπον ὁ Διόνυσος δίδωσι; φιλοσόφοις καὶ φιλολόγοις, ὥσπερ ὅταν οἱ γραφεῖς ἐκπονηθῶσι τὰς ὄψεις, ἐπὶ τὰ ἀνθηρὰ καὶ ποώδη χρώματα τρέπουσιν, ἀνάπαυλα τῶν ἀκράτων καὶ συντόνων ἐκείνων Μένανδρός ἐστιν, οἷον εὐανθεῖ λειμῶνι καὶ σκιερῷ καὶ πνευμάτων μεστῷ δεχόμενος τὴν διάνοιαν.
He adds further, that of dramatic exhibitors, some address themselves to the crowd and populace, and others again to a few; but it is a hard matter to say which of them all knew what was befitting in both the kinds. But Aristophanes is neither grateful to the vulgar, nor tolerable to the wise; but it fares with his poesy as it doth with a courtesan who, when she finds she is now stricken and past her prime, counterfeits a sober matron, and then the vulgar cannot endure her affectation, and the better sort abominate her lewdness and wicked nature. But Menander hath with his charms shown himself every way sufficient for satisfaction, being the sole lecture, argument, and dispute at theatres, schools, and at tables; hereby rendering his poesy the most universal ornament that was ever produced by Greece, and showing what and how extraordinary his ability in language was, while he passes every way with an irresistible persuasion, and wins every man’s ear and understanding who has knowledge of the Greek tongue. And for what other reason in truth should a man of parts and erudition be at the pains to frequent the theatre, but for the sake of Menander only? And when are the play-houses better filled with men of letters, than when his comic mask is exhibited? And at private entertainments among friends, for whom doth the table more justly make room or Bacchus give place than for Menander? To philosophers also and hard students (as painters are wont, when they have tired out their eyes at their work, to divert them to certain florid and green colors) Menander is a repose from their auditors and intense thinkings, and entertains their minds with gay shady meadows refreshed with cool and gentle breezes.
ὅτι κωμῳδίας ὑποκριτὰς τοῦ χρόνου τούτου πολλοὺς καὶ ἀγαθοὺς τῆς πόλεως ἐνεγκούσης, […] αἱ Μενάνδρου κωμῳδίαι ἀφθόνων ἁλῶν καὶ ἱερῶν μετέχουσιν, ὥσπερ ἐξ ἐκείνης γεγονότων τῆς θαλάττης, ἐξ ὦν Ἀφροδίτη γέγονεν. οἱ δʼ Ἀριστοφάνους ἅλες πικροὶ καὶ τραχεῖς ὄντες ἑλκωτικὴν δριμύτητα καὶ δηκτικὴν ἔχουσι· καὶ οὐκ οἶδʼ ἐν οἷς ἔστιν ἡ θρυλουμένη δεξιότης ὑπʼ αὐτοῦ, ἐν λόγοις ἢ προσώποις ἀμέλει καὶ τὰ μεμιμημένα πρὸς τὸ χεῖρον μεμίμηται τὸ γὰρ πανοῦργον οὐ πολιτικὸν ἀλλὰ κακόηθες, καὶ τὸ ἄγροικον οὐκ ἀφελὲς ἀλλʼ ἠλίθιον, καὶ τὸ γελοῖον οὐ παιγνιῶδες ἀλλὰ καταγέλαστον, καὶ τὸ ἐρωτικὸν οὐχ ἱλαρὸν ἀλλʼ ἀκόλαστον. οὐδενὶ γὰρ ὁ ἄνθρωπος ἔοικε μετρίῳ τὴν ποίησιν γεγραφέναι, ἀλλὰ τὰ μὲν αἰσχρὰ καὶ ἀσελγῆ τοῖς ἀκολάστοις, τὰ βλάσφημα δὲ καὶ πικρὰ τοῖς βασκάνοις καὶ κακοήθεσιν.
He adds, moreover, that though this city breeds at this time very many and excellent representers of comedy, Menander’s plays participate of a plenteous and divine salt, as if they were made of the very sea out of which Venus herself sprang. But that of Aristophanes is harsh and coarse, and hath in it an angry and biting sharpness. And for my part I cannot tell where his so much boasted ability lies, whether in his style or persons. The parts he acts I am sure are quite over-acted and depraved. His knave (for instance) is not fine, but dirty; his peasant is not assured, but stupid; his droll is not jocose, but ridiculous; and his lover is not gay, but lewd. So that to me the man seems not to have written his poesy for any temperate person, but to have intended his smut and obscenity for the debauched and lewd, his invective and satire for the malicious and ill-humored.
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