against
him. He may not have been his equal, he was certainly his rival. Nay,
on not a few occasions--I am almost ashamed to mention it--he actually
defeated him. However this may be, you will certainly find his works
full of humour: the plots are full of wittily contrived intrigue, the
_denouements_ clear, the characters suited to the situations, the
words true to life, the jests never unworthy of true comedy, the
serious passages never quite on the level of tragedy. Seductions are
rare in his plays; if he introduces love affairs, it is as a
concession to human weakness. That does not, however, prevent the
presence in his plays of the faithless pander, the passionate lover,
the cunning slave, the coquetting mistress, the jealous wife whose
word is law, the indulgent mother, the crusty uncle, the friend in
need, the warlike soldier, aye and hungry parasites, skinflint
parents, and saucy drabs. One day, long after these excellences had
made him famous as a writer of comedy, he happened to give a
recitation of a portion of a play which he had just written. He had
reached the third act, and was beginning to arouse in his audience
those pleasurable emotions so dear to comedy, when a sudden shower
descended and forced him to put off the audience gathered to hear him
and the recitation which he had just begun. A similar event befell me,
you will remember, quite recently when I was addressing you. However,
Philemon, at the demand of various persons, promised to finish his
recitation the next day without further postponement. On the morrow,
therefore, a vast crowd assembled to hear him with the utmost
enthusiasm. Everybody who could do so took a seat facing the stage and
as near to it as he could get. Late arrivals made signs to their
friends to make room for them to sit: those who sat at the end of a
row complained of being thrust off their seat into the gangway; the
whole theatre was crammed with a vast audience. A hum of
conversation[49] arose. Those who had not been present the previous
day began to ask what had been recited; those who had been present
began to recall what they had heard, and finally when everybody had
made themselves acquainted with what had preceded, all began to look
forward to what was to come. Meanwhile the day wore on and Philemon
failed to come at the appointed time. Some blamed the poet for the
delay, more defended him. But when they had sat there for quite an
unreasonable length of time and still P