ame
forward and spoke in the poet's name.

P. 128. _Skiadeion._ Sunshade. Parasol.

P. 129. _Theoria._ _Opora._ Characters in the Eirene or "Peace:" the
first personifying games, spectacles, sights; the second, plenty,
fruitful autumn, and so on.

P. 133. _Philokleon._ Lover of Kleon. (Cleon.) _Bdelukleon._ Reviler of
Kleon.

P. 135. _Logeion._ Front of the stage occupied by the actors.

P. 137. _Kukloboros-roaring._ Roaring like the torrent Cycloborus (in
Attica).

P. 140. _Konnos._ The play by Ameipsias which beat the "Clouds."
_Euthumenes._ One who refused the pay of the comic writers, while he
tripled that of those who attended at the Assembly. _Argurrhios._ As
before. _Kinesias._ As before.

P. 144. _Triballos._ A supposed _country_ and clownish god.

P. 172. _Propula._ (Propyla.) Gateway to the Acropolis.

P. 248. _Elaphebolion month._ The "Stag-striking" month.

P. 249. _Bakis prophecy._ Foolish prophecies attributed to one Bacis,
rife at that time; a collective name for all such.

P. 255. _Kommos._ General weeping--by the chorus and an actor.

"FIFINE AT THE FAIR."

"Fifine at the Fair" is a defence of inconstancy, or of the right of
experiment in love; and is addressed by a husband to his wife, whose
supposed and very natural comments the monologue reflects. The speaker's
implied name of Don Juan sufficiently tells us what we are meant to
think of his arguments; and they also convict themselves by landing him
in an act of immorality, which brings its own punishment. This character
is nevertheless a standing puzzle to Mr. Browning's readers, because
that which he condemns in it, and that which he does not, are not to be
distinguished from each other. It is impossible to see where Mr.
Browning ends and where Don Juan begins. The reasoning is scarcely ever
that of a heartless or profligate person, though it very often betrays
an unconsciously selfish one. It treats love as an education still more
than as a pleasure; and if it lowers the standard of love, or defends
too free an indulgence in it, it does so by asserting what is true for
imaginative persons, though not for the commonplace: that whatever stirs
even a sensuous admiration appeals also to the artistic, the moral, and
even the religious nature. Its obvious sophistries are mixed up with the
profoundest truths, and the speaker's tone has often the tenderness of
one who, with all his inconstancy, has loved deeply and long. We can
only solv