Get ebook downloads in full at ebookmeta.

com

Visual Arts Practice and Affect Place Materiality

and Embodied Knowing Ann Schilo Editor

https://ebookmeta.com/product/visual-arts-practice-and-
affect-place-materiality-and-embodied-knowing-ann-schilo-
editor/

OR CLICK BUTTON

DOWNLOAD NOW

Explore and download more ebook at https://ebookmeta.com

 Recommended digital products (PDF, EPUB, MOBI) that
you can download immediately if you are interested.

Embodied Differences: The Jew’s Body and Materiality in

Russian Literature and Culture Henrietta Mondry

https://ebookmeta.com/product/embodied-differences-the-jews-body-and-
materiality-in-russian-literature-and-culture-henrietta-mondry/

ebookmeta.com

Television and the Embodied Viewer Affect and Meaning in

the Digital Age 1st Edition Marsha F. Cassidy

https://ebookmeta.com/product/television-and-the-embodied-viewer-
affect-and-meaning-in-the-digital-age-1st-edition-marsha-f-cassidy/

ebookmeta.com

Ekphrastic encounters New Interdisciplinary Essays on

Literature and the Visual Arts David Kennedy (Editor)

https://ebookmeta.com/product/ekphrastic-encounters-new-
interdisciplinary-essays-on-literature-and-the-visual-arts-david-
kennedy-editor/
ebookmeta.com

Resource Peripheries in the Global Economy Networks Scales

and Places of Extraction 1st Edition Felipe Irarrázaval
Martín Arias Loyola
https://ebookmeta.com/product/resource-peripheries-in-the-global-
economy-networks-scales-and-places-of-extraction-1st-edition-felipe-
irarrazaval-martin-arias-loyola/
ebookmeta.com
The Routledge Handbook of Fiction and Belief 1st Edition
Alison James

https://ebookmeta.com/product/the-routledge-handbook-of-fiction-and-
belief-1st-edition-alison-james/

ebookmeta.com

Advances in Big Data Analytics 1st Edition Hamid R.

Arabnia

https://ebookmeta.com/product/advances-in-big-data-analytics-1st-
edition-hamid-r-arabnia/

ebookmeta.com

The Chauffeur s Obsession 1st Edition Bray Emma

https://ebookmeta.com/product/the-chauffeur-s-obsession-1st-edition-
bray-emma/

ebookmeta.com

Road to Kubernetes 1st Edition Justin Mitchel

https://ebookmeta.com/product/road-to-kubernetes-1st-edition-justin-
mitchel/

ebookmeta.com

Culture blind Shakespeare Multiculturalism and Diversity

1st Edition Maryam Beyad

https://ebookmeta.com/product/culture-blind-shakespeare-
multiculturalism-and-diversity-1st-edition-maryam-beyad/

ebookmeta.com
Human Interaction Emerging Technologies and Future Systems
V 1st Edition Manfred Baumgartner

https://ebookmeta.com/product/human-interaction-emerging-technologies-
and-future-systems-v-1st-edition-manfred-baumgartner/

ebookmeta.com
Visual Arts Practice and Affect
 Place, Memory, Affect
Series Editors: Neil Campbell, Professor of American Studies at the
University of Derby and Christine Berberich, School of Social,
Historical and Literary Studies at the University of Portsmouth.
The Place, Memory, Affect series seeks to extend and deepen debates around the
intersections of place, memory, and affect in innovative and challenging ways. The
series will forge an agenda for new approaches to the edgy relations of people and
place within the transnational global cultures of the twenty-first century and
beyond.

Walking Inside Out edited by Tina Richardson

The Last Isle: Contemporary Taiwan Film, Culture, and Trauma by Sheng-mei Ma
Divided Subjects, Invisible Borders: Re-Unified Germany after 1989 by Ben Gook
The Mother’s Day Protest and Other Fictocritical Essays by Stephen Muecke
Affective Critical Regionality by Neil Campbell
Visual Arts Practice and Affect edited by Ann Schilo
Haunted Landscapes edited by Ruth Heholt and Niamh Downing (forthcoming)
In the Ruins of the Cold War Bunker edited by Luke Bennett (forthcoming)
Visual Arts Practice and Affect
Place, Materiality and Embodied
Knowing

Edited by Ann Schilo

London • New York

Published by Rowman & Littlefield International Ltd
Unit A, Whitacre Mews, 26-34 Stannary Street, London SE11 4AB
www.rowmaninternational.com
Rowman & Littlefield International Ltd.is an affiliate of Rowman & Littlefield
4501 Forbes Boulevard, Suite 200, Lanham, Maryland 20706, USA
With additional offices in Boulder, New York, Toronto (Canada), and Plymouth (UK)
www.rowman.com
Selections and Editorial Matter © Anne Schilo 2016
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any
electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval
systems, without written permission from the publisher, except by a reviewer who
may quote passages in a review.
British Library Cataloguing in Publication Data
A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library
ISBN: HB 978-1-78348-736-3
PB 978-1-78348-737-0
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data Available
Names: Schilo, Ann, editor.
Title: Visual arts practice and affect : place, materiality and embodied knowing /
edited by Ann Schilo.
Description: Lanham, Maryland : Rowman & Littlefield International, 2016. |
Series: Place, memory, affect | Includes bibliographical references and index.
Identifiers: LCCN 2016033794 (print) | LCCN 2016033933 (ebook) | ISBN
9781783487363 (cloth : alk. paper) | ISBN 9781783487370 (pbk. : alk. paper) |
ISBN 9781783487387 (Electronic)
Subjects: LCSH: Art–Psychology. | Place (Philosophy) in art. | Meaning
(Philosophy) | Artists’ writings.
Classification: LCC N71 .V576 2016 (print) | LCC N71 (ebook) | DDC 701–dc23
LC record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/2016033794
The paper used in this publication meets the minimum requirements of
American National Standard for Information Sciences—Permanence of Paper for
Printed Library Materials, ANSI/NISO Z39.48-1992.
Printed in the United States of America
 For you
Never doubt
 Contents

List of Illustrations
Acknowledgements
Introduction
Ann Schilo
1 Residency: An Account of Otherworldly Dwelling and the Artefacts
of Place
Anna Nazzari
Sketching a Discursive Terrain: On Landscape
Ann Schilo
2 Lyrical Landscapes
Ann Schilo
Sketching a Discursive Terrain: On Critical Regionalism
Ann Schilo
3 Ruination and Recollection: Plumbing the Colonial Archive
Thea Costantino
Sketching a Discursive Terrain: From Spatial Temporalities to
Emplacement
Ann Schilo
4 Touchstone
Anna Sabadini
Sketching a Discursive Terrain: On Affective Dimensions
Ann Schilo
5 A Journey to the Other Side of the World on an Unknown Itinerary
Susanna Castleden
Conclusion: Artful Confessions
References
Index
About the Authors
 List of Illustrations

Figure 1.1 Anna Nazzari, Snowball’s Auction

House Sperm Whale’s Teeth, 2013
Figure 1.2 Anna Nazzari, The Séance, 2014
Figure 1.3 Anna Nazzari, The Burial Grounds,
2014
Figure 1.4 Anna Nazzari, The Phantom Leg,
2015
Figure 2.1 Jane Currie, Panorama of the Swan
River Colony (Detail), 1830–1832 45
Figure 3.1 Thea Costantino, Lacrymae
Imperiales I, II, III, 2013
Figure 3.2 Thea Costantino, The Valley (after
Bayliss) (Detail), 2015
Figure 3.3 Thea Costantino, Untitled
(Greenough), 1997
Figure 4.1 Anna Sabadini, Monster, 2015
Figure 4.2 Anna Sabadini, Animal, 2015
Figure 4.3 Anna Sabadini, Small Clear Bits of
Jagged Mountain, 2015
Figure 5.1 Susanna Castleden, Round-the-
world print (New York pavement)
(Detail), 2012–2013
Figure 5.2 Susanna Castleden, Round-the-
world print, hand luggage box,
2012–2013
Figure 5.3 Susanna Castleden, St Catherine’s
Fort, Bermuda, 2012
 Acknowledgements

While this work may be a modest contribution to the understanding

of the importance of visual arts as a way of knowing, it has made a
significant impact on our intellectual lives, both individually and
collectively, as artist scholars. It is a testament to the creative spirit,
love, generosity, and damn hard work of five women who squirreled
away time to think, write, and reflect, amidst their complex lives
while wearing multiple guises as lecturers, course coordinators,
programme managers, administrators, artists, family members,
carers, partners, lovers, and friends. Over the course of this
collaboration, we have grown with great and humble respect for
each other’s intelligence, goodwill, humour, tirelessness, and
support. This artful conversation could not have been achieved
without each other.
A ‘good idea at the time’ does not publish itself. We are grateful to
commissioning editor, Martina Sullivan, and series editors, Christine
Berberich and Neil Campbell, who have had faith in the project from
the beginning and have provided support and advice throughout.
Equally, we thank the anonymous reviewers for their insightful
comments that enabled us craft our conversations. Particularly, our
gratitude extends to our copy editor, Dean Chan, for his considerable
talent and eagle-eyed scrutiny of the draft manuscript. Julianne
Clifford gave very valuable assistance in the early stages of this
project as a research assistant.
 This work has been crafted over fragments of time in our academic
working lives, between occasional research days, semester breaks,
weekends, family holidays, and sleepless nights. We appreciate the
support of our colleagues in the School of Design and Art at Curtin
University who filled in some of the gaps in the working week that
allowed us writing time; thanks are also due to our students who
understood when we were a day or two late in returning feedback
on their draft essays.
Most of all, this book is the result of support from people in our
lives who have been there for us when we’ve lost the plot, when
we’ve needed a laugh, or someone else to cook the dinner, or look
after the dog, or have given us critical support and encouragement,
or told us we are on the wrong track, or even the right one! In a
work that is in part about embodiment, it is difficult to put flesh and
blood around all these kindnesses without writing a novel in its own
right. You have been there for us. This following public naming is but
a small recognition of our deepest thanks, love, and respect:
Paola Anselmi, Michelle Becker, Sue Briggs, Kate Campbell-Pope,
Gina Cinanni, Erin Coates, Vince Costantino, Christopher Crouch,
Brian Doherty, Moira Doropoulos, Lesley Duxbury, Barbie
Greenshields, Bevan Honey, Mia Honey, Stella Honey, Melannie
Nazzari, Rachel Robertson, Jane Richens, Elizabeth Riley, Adelina
Sabadini, Walter Schilo, Bruce Slatter, Justin Strange, Joan Wardrop,
Kerri Wilkes, Pauline Williams.
 Introduction
Ann Schilo

This is a conversation between you and I, between us. With this

initial sentence, we already encounter ideas – in the first instance,
about our subject positions: you, the reader of my imagination, and
I, the writer who in this book takes a number of guises, and whose
biographical details provide you with a tenuous legitimacy to my
authorial claims. And secondly, though perhaps, more crucially for
how these ideas unfold, the sentence begins with a proposition to
you to enter into a conversation. Of course, we can’t physically do
that as though we are sitting alongside each other on a train, or by a
fireside, or over a table in the kitchen; rather, it is a manner of
conversing through writing and reading. My address to you takes
inspiration from Rebecca Solnit (2003), who notes how conversation
plays a critical role in both the way she works with and alongside
artists, as well as in her approach to writing. And like her, we, the
authors of this book, are interested in the slippages, associations,
disjunctions, and reflections that occur in our encounters with art
and when we speak to one another. In both instances, whether it is
a look, a texture, a colourful phrase, a memory of another occasion,
an uncomfortable word, something affects the interplay of ideas and
interests. So, rather than demand that you pay attention to my
inquiry, as if directed by an officious autocrat, by following from
point to point in a linear logical order, which has been a well-used
formula for conventional scholarly writing, I approach this
Other documents randomly have
different content
 Cecrops, the first king of Athens, seems to have been the reputed
founder of marriage-ceremonies among the Greeks: the Athenians
accounted it so dishonourable to grow old in a single state, that their
laws peremptorily required, that all the αὐτοκράτορες, στρατηγοὶ,
πολέμαρχοι, and ταξίαρχοι, who were the principal military officers,
also the ἄρχοντες and ἱεροφύλακες, or chief priests, as well as the
archons and other chief magistrates, should be chosen from the
married men only.
Numerous ceremonies were always performed at Grecian
marriages, many of which were performed at the house of the bride,
and in procession from it: it is exceedingly well managed by Terence,
that Davus should discover Simo’s stratagem, by finding Chremes’
house “quite still and quiet,” because the house of a bride was
generally full of noisy company. The following extracts from a
learned writer on antiquities will afford some valuable information
respecting the Greek marriages.
“The Athenian virgins were presented to Diana before it was
lawful for them to marry. This ceremony, which was performed at
Brauron, an Athenian borough, was called ἀρκτεία. There was also
another custom for virgins, when they became marriageable, to
present certain baskets, full of little curiosities, to Diana, to obtain
permission to leave her train, and to change their state of life.
Indeed we find Diana concerned in the preparatory solemnities
before all marriages; for a married state being her aversion, it was
thought necessary for all who entered upon it, to ask her pardon for
dissenting from her. The ancient Athenians paid the same honour to
Heaven and Earth, which were believed to have a particular concern
in marriages, of which they were thought a proper emblem. (Procl.
in Timæ. Platon. Comment. 5.) The fates and graces being supposed
to join, and afterwards to preserve the tie of love, were partakers of
the same respect. (Pol. lib. III. cap. 3.) Before the marriage could be
solemnized, the other gods were consulted, and their assistance also
implored by prayers and sacrifices. When the victim was opened, the
gall was taken out and thrown behind the altar, as being the seat of
anger and revenge, and therefore the aversion of all the deities who
superintended the affairs of love. The married persons, with their
attendants, were richly adorned, according to their rank. The house,
in which the nuptials were celebrated, was also decorated with
garlands. (Hierocl. in Frag. περὶ γάμον; Stob. Serm. 186, Senec.
Thebaid. v. 507;) a pestle was tied upon the door, (Poll. lib. III. cap.
3. seg. 37;) and a maid carried a sieve, (Id. ibid.) the bride herself
bearing φρύγετον, φρύγετρον, or φρύγητρον, which was an earthen
vessel, in which barley was parched, (Poll. lib. I. cap. 12. seg. 246;
Hesych.) and which was intended to signify her obligation to attend
to the business of a family. The bride was usually conducted in a
chariot from her father’s to her husband’s house in the evening. She
was placed in the middle, her husband sitting on one side, and, on
the other, one of his most intimate friends, who was called πάροχος.
They were sometimes accompanied by bands of musicians and
dancers, (Hom. Il. σʹ. v. 491.) The song with which they were
entertained on the road was called ἁρμάτειον μέλος, from ἅρμα, the
coach in which they rode, and the axle-tree of which they burned as
soon as they arrived at the end of their journey; thereby signifying
that the bride was never to return to her father’s house. The day of
the bride’s leaving her father was celebrated in the manner of a
festival, which was distinct from the nuptial solemnity, which was
kept at the bride-groom’s house, and began at evening, the usual
time of the bride’s arrival.”—Robinson’s Archæologia Græca.

NOTE 118.

But can see no bridemaid.

Matronam nullam: Some commentators think that matrona and
pronuba have a similar meaning; but though it is clear that both
those words were used to describe females who attended the bride
at a Roman marriage, I am inclined to believe that they have each a
distinct signification. The Latin poets used matrona as a name for all
married women without distinction: thus, Horace evidently speaks of
wives in general, when he says,
 “Matronæ præter faciem nil cernere possis,
Cetera, ————demissa veste tegentis.”

The matron muffled in her modest stole,

Will scarce allow her features to be seen.

because married women only were allowed to wear the stola, a large
robe which covered the person from head to foot. Matrons were
distinguished as follows, matronas appellabant, quibus stolas
habendi jus erat: those only were called matrons, whose rank
entitled them to wear the stola, (Alex. ab. Alex. lib. 5. cap. 18.) as
women of inferior rank wore the instita. The pronubæ were always
chosen from those women who had been married only once; and it
appears that a bride had several pronubæ to attend her, but only
one matrona. Terence says nullam matronam, whereas the pronubæ
were spoken of as being four or five in number. I think it not unlikely
that the first in rank of the pronubæ was chosen to preside over the
rest of the bridemaids, and to attend immediately on the person of
the bride, whence she was called matrona pronubarum, the chief of
the bridemaids. Servius thinks that matrona was used to designate a
woman who had one child: and thus distinguished from the mater-
familias who had several. But Aulus Gellius is of opinion that all
married women were called matronæ, whether they had any
children or not. Thus Ovid, speaking of Hersilia, the wife of Romulus,
who had no offspring, calls her matrona.

“O et de Latiâ, O et de gente Sabinâ

Præcipuum matrona decus; dignissima tanti”—

And thou, O matron, ornament of Latium,

The chiefest glory of the Sabine race,
Most worthy consort of so great a hero——

Nonnius supports Gellius in this opinion.

 NOTE 119.

All was silent.

Nil tumulti. Terence here compares guests, called together in a
hurry, to soldiers raised on any sudden emergency of great
importance. As no marriage had been thought of till that day, if
Chremes had invited any guests, they could have had scarcely an
hour’s notice; Davus, therefore, aptly calls such a hasty assemblage
tumultus, which word was used to signify a very quick muster of
soldiers on any pressing occasion, when all that took arms were
called tumultuarii. (Vide Liv. I. 37, 35.) Numerous allusions of this
kind, which abound in the writings of Terence, cannot be happily
preserved in a translation.

NOTE 120.
Besides all this, as I was returning, I met Chremes’ servant, who was
carrying home some herbs, and as many little fishes for the old
man’s supper, as might have cost an obolus.
What a supper for a man of fortune! as we must suppose
Chremes to have been, since he could give Glycera and Philumena
each a dowry of ten talents. The Athenians were remarkable, even
to a proverb, for their extreme frugality. To tell a person that he lived
ἀττικηρῶς or like an Athenian, was to tell him in other words that he
lived penuriously. The food of the common people was very coarse;
being such as they could procure at a slight expense. Mάζα, a very
common food among them, was a mixture of meal, salt, water, and
oil: and another, called μυττωτὸν, was a composition of garlick,
eggs, and milk. Many of those who drank water, drank it warm; as
the water of the hot fountains, (of which there are many in Greece,)
was reckoned highly restorative. This simple diet, however, soon
gave place to greater delicacies, and, in Greece, as in all other
countries, refinement and luxury kept pace with each other. For the
value of an obolus, see the table of money in Note 208. An obolus
worth of food was, probably, as much as would furnish a coarse
meal for one person. Plutarch tells us, that the Athenian women
were forbidden, by law, to travel with more food than could be
purchased with an obolus: this harsh law must have been formed
with a view to prevent them from making any long stay abroad. Vide
Notes 71, 103.

NOTE 121.
If you do not use all your endeavours to gain the support of the old
man’s friends, you will be no nearer your wishes than ever.
Nisi vides, nisi senis amicos oras, ambis. The meaning of ambis in
this line is very equivocal; ambire means to solicit, and also to run
round. Some commentators give ambis the same sense with oras:
but that makes Davus’s speech incomplete. I have seen an attempt
to support this reading by making Pamphilus speak the word ambis,
with which he breaks in upon Davus. The learned reader will judge
what degree of attention ought to be paid to this reading; I have
adopted that which seemed to me to be most agreeable to the
sense. If frustra had been added, the line would have been more
intelligible. Ambit has much the same meaning in the following
passage,
“Locum, quo me Dea texerat inscius ambit.”—Ovid.

NOTE 122.

Glycera, moreover, is destitute and friendless.

Terence here alludes to the Athenian law, which compelled all
sojourners in Athens to choose a patron and protector: we must
suppose that Glycera had neglected that ceremony after Chrysis’
death. Davus insinuates that it would afford Simo a sufficient pretext
to drive her from the city. If a suit at law, called ἀποστασίου δίκη,
was instituted against a sojourner in the before-mentioned
circumstances: all the offender’s property was confiscated to public
use.
 NOTE 123.

To banish her from the city.

Banishment, among the Athenians, was of three kinds, 1. φυγὴ,
temporary exile, the length of which was fixed by the judges. 2.
Ὀστρακισμὸς, ten years’ banishment, during which the exile was
allowed to receive the proceeds of his estate. 3. ἀειφυγία, perpetual
banishment. The last kind was chiefly inflicted on murderers, the
second on men, who grew so extremely popular and powerful as to
endanger the security of a republican government. Mr. Cooke thinks,
with Dr. Bentley, that “the original of this passage should be read,
eam eiciat oppido,” instead of eam ejiciat oppido: he supports this
reading by the following quotation,
Tityre, pascentes a flumine reice capellas.—Virgil.
where the measure determines the spelling.
“In the three manuscript copies of Terence, in the possession of
Dr. Mead, two of them have eiciat; and what is worthy the reader’s
notice, that which has ejiciat is written in the manner of prose.”

NOTE 124.
Therefore, do not let the fear of his changing his mind prevent you
from following my advice.
——Nec tu ea causa minueris
Hæc quæ facis, ne is suam mutet sententiam.
It is impossible to ascertain, beyond a doubt, what Terence meant
to express by these lines, and the most ingenious critics have
differed entirely respecting their true signification. Some think this
sentence should be interpreted thus: Be careful not to discontinue
your visits to Glycera, lest Chremes should think you have broken off
your connexion with her, and change his mind in consequence, and
resolve to give you his daughter. In short, don’t quit your intrigue,
and reform, lest Chremes should hear of it, and give you Philumena:
among those who read the words in this sense, the most eminent
are Bernard, Echard, M. Baron, the authors of the old Paris edition of
1671, and of the old English edition with notes. At the head of those
who have adopted a contrary interpretation are Cooke, Colman, and
Madame Dacier, who translate the lines thus, Let not the fear of
Chremes’ changing his mind, and resolving to give you his daughter,
make you hesitate in doing this, i. e., in telling your father that you’ll
marry. I have adopted the latter translation, which seems more
pertinent to the subject on which Davus and Pamphilus were
conversing. The word hæc, moreover, usually refers to something
immediately present, as was the topic of Pamphilus consenting to
the marriage to deceive Simo. Terence, I think, if he had intended to
allude to the visits, letters, &c., to Glycera, would have used the
word isthæc. I conclude this note with the opinion of Madame Dacier
respecting this passage, which that learned lady translates as
follows:—
“Car que Chremès ne veuille pas vous donner sa fille, cela est
hors de doute. Gardez vous donc bien que la crainte qu’il ne change
de sentiment, et ne veuille que vous soyez bon gendre, ne vous
fasse changer quelque chose au conseil que je vous ai donné.
This passage is extremely difficult. I have been obliged to take a
little latitude to make it clear. I shall explain the words literally: Nec
tu ea causa minueris hæc quæ facis, ne is mutet suam sententiam.
This is the construction, nec tu minueris hæc quæ facis, ea causa ne
is mutet suam sententiam. Change not your intention to do what
you are going to do; that is to say, what I advise you to do: ea
causa; on this pretext; ne is mutet suam sententiam; that you fear
lest Chremes should change his mind: minuere, to diminish, is used
for to change, as in the Stepmother,
Sed non minuam meum consilium.
But I will not alter my resolution.”
Madame Dacier.
 NOTE 125.
As to the hopes you indulge, that no man will give his daughter to
you, on account of this imprudent connexion that you have
formed; I will soon convince you of their fallacy.
We must not suppose, that the sentiments of Pamphilus were
really such as Davus here insinuates: this would be representing him
as an unblushing profligate; who, because he was disinclined to
marriage, wished his character to be so very black, that no reputable
family in Athens would admit him as a son-in-law: for this is the
sense of what Davus says, though I have rather softened his
expression. Whoever attentively peruses what Simo says of his son,
(in Act I. Scene I.) must perceive how inconsistent such a wish must
be with the character of Pamphilus. Madame Dacier observes very
aptly on a similar expression of Sosia, “les valets prennent toujours
tout du mauvais côte, slaves always look on the dark side of every
thing. In respect to the before-mentioned passage, I am rather
inclined to the opinion of a late ingenious commentator, who speaks
of it as follows:
“Mr. Davus talks here as if he did not know what to say. In my
humble opinion, these four lines are no ornaments to the scene:
Nam quod tu speras, Propulsabo facile: uxorem his moribus
Dabit nemo: inopem inveniet potius, quam te corrumpi sinat:
Sed si te æquo animo ferre accipiet, negligentem feceris;
Aliam otiosus quæret: interea aliquid acciderit boni.
Here are poor sentiments in pure Latin, which is more than once
the case in our poet. The speech closes better with tibi jure irasci
non queat.”—Cooke.

NOTE 126.
Pamphilus. But we must take care that he knows nothing of the
child, for I have promised to bring it up.
Davus. Is it possible!
An allusion is here made to the exposure of children, for an
account of which, see Note 93.
Pamphilus, in this sentence, says pollicitus sum: there is very
great force in this expression, which cannot be gracefully expressed
in English. Pollicitatio, writes a learned commentator, magnarum
rerum est promissio, means the promise of something of great
consequence. It signifies also something promised over and over
again, after great persuasion and entreaty.

NOTE 127.

So as I saw the old man coming this way, I followed him.

Id propterea nunc hunc venientem sequor.
Dr. Bentley thinks that this line ought to be omitted as spurious,
because the word hunc refers to Pamphilus, who had not quitted the
stage at all, from the time of Charinus’ departure until that moment:
and, therefore, what Byrrhia says about following him thither must
be nonsense. This passage is made very clear by Madame Dacier,
who shews that Id propterea is the commencement of another
sentence, and makes hunc refer to Simo, instead of Pamphilus. The
lines ought to be read thus,
Byrrhia. Herus me, relictis rebus, jussit Pamphilum
Hodiè observare, ut quid ageret de nuptiis
Scirem. Id propterea nunc hunc venientem sequor.

NOTE 128.

Byrrhia. (aside.) Now, for my master’s sake, I dread to hear his

answer.
 Some commentators make this speech come from Davus; but it
certainly is more natural from Byrrhia: because, by the word dread,
he expresses a suspense about what the answer might be, which
Davus could not feel, because he and his master had previously
agreed upon it.

NOTE 129.

Byrrhia. (aside.) Ha! I am struck dumb; what did he say?

Hem! obmutui! quid dixit!
I think this reading seems more consistent than that which is
usually printed, where obmutuit comes from Davus: as Byrrhia might
well be supposed to express surprise at Pamphilus’s answer, which
was directly different from what Pamphilus and Charinus had
previously agreed on.
The dialogue of this scene is carried on too unconnectedly, as Mr.
Colman observes.
“Donatus remarks on this scene between Byrrhia, Simo,
Pamphilus, and Davus, that the dialogue is sustained by four
persons, who have little or no intercourse with each other: so that
the scene is not only in direct contradiction to the precept of Horace
excluding a fourth person, but is also otherwise vicious in its
construction. Scenes of this kind are, I think, much too frequent in
Terence, though, indeed, the form of the ancient theatre was more
adapted to the representation of them than the modern. The
multiplicity of speeches aside is also the chief error in his dialogue;
such speeches, though very common in dramatic writers, ancient
and modern, being always more or less unnatural. Myrtle’s
suspicions, grounded on the intelligence drawn from Bevil’s servant,
are more artfully imagined by the English poet, than those of
Charinus, created by employing his servant as a spy on the actions
of Pamphilus.”—Colman.
 NOTE 130.
Byrrhia. (aside.) From what I hear, I fancy my master has nothing to
do but to provide himself with another mistress as soon as
possible.
Herus, quantum audio, uxore excidit.
“This expression is extremely elegant; excidere uxore means to
lose all hope of obtaining the woman he courted, Excidere lite, to
lose a cause, is a similar phrase. This mode of expression is in
imitation of the Greeks, who used ἐκπιπτεῖν in the same sense.”—
Madame Dacier.
Terence, undoubtedly, was extremely happy in the choice of his
words; and his expressions are frequently so terse and nervous, that
they cannot be translated but by a circumlocution which very much
diminishes their grace: the following are words of that description
which occur in this play,
“Liberaliter, conflictatur, familiariter, invenustum, indigeas,
pollicitus, excidit, lactasses, ingeram, in proclive, produceres,
conglutinas, illicis, attentus.”

NOTE 131.
Byrrhia. Well, I’ll carry him an account of what has passed. I
suppose I shall receive an abundance of bad language in return
for my bad news.
Renunciabo, ut pro hoc malo mihi det malum.
There is a jest in the Latin, which it is impossible to preserve in a
translation: it turns on the word malum, which was used at Rome to
signify the punishment inflicted on a slave, who played his part badly
on the stage: as the inferior characters in a Roman play were
personated by slaves. Thus, Byrrhia means to say, I shall rehearse
my part so little to my master’s satisfaction, that I am sure to be
punished. The writings of Terence abound with allusions of different
kinds. It is not improbable that Terence acquired a taste for dramatic
writing, by frequenting the stage in his youth, before he obtained his
liberty: as slaves were employed in the theatres in considerable
numbers. It is remarkable that several very eminent Latin and Greek
writers were originally slaves; Terence, Cæcilius, Æsop, Diocles,
Rhianus, Epictetus, Tyrannion, and (as some say) Plautus, were all
elevated from a servile station. A celebrated writer remarks on this
subject as follows:—
“Of the politest and best writers of antiquity, several were slaves,
or the immediate descendants of slaves. But all the difficulties
occasioned by their low birth, mean fortune, want of friends, and
defective education, were surmounted by their love of letters, and
that generous spirit, which incites,
Ἀὲν ἀριστεύειν καὶ ὑπείροχον ἔμμεναι ἄλλων.
Still to be first, and rise above the rest.
Stimulos dedit æmula virtus:
Nec quemquam jam ferre potest Cæsarve priorem
Pompeiusve parem.—Lucan.
’Twas emulative virtue spurred them on;
Cæsar no longer a superior brooks,
And Pompey scorns an equal.”—Knox.
Byrrhia’s whole speech, from which the before-mentioned line
was taken, has been thus altered by the learned French writer
mentioned in Notes 72 and 112. Vide Note 133.
“Ego illam vidi virginem: formâ bonâ
Memini videre, quo æquior sum Pamphilo,
Si se illam uxorem quam illum habere maluit.
Renunciabo, ut pro hoc malo mihi det malum.”
The original lines are as follows,
“Ego illam vidi virginem: formâ bonâ
Memini videre; quo æquior sum Pamphilo,
Si se illam in somnis, quàm illum, amplecti maluit.
 Renunciabo, ut pro hoc malo mihi det malum.”

NOTE 132.

Davus. (aside.) He has missed his aim! I see this nettles him to the
quick.
M. Baron has lengthened this scene considerably: and makes a
trial of repartee between Simo and Davus: one passage in which I
think the ancient is surpassed by the modern, particularly deserves
to be recorded.
“Puis-je espérer qu’aujourd’hui sans contrainte
La vérité pourra, sans recevoir d’atteinte,
Une fois seulement de ta bouche sortir.”
Andrienne, A. II. S. VII.
Tell me, slave,
Is’t possible that truth can pass thy lips,
And be for once unsullied in its passage.

NOTE 133.

Davus. While circumstances allowed him, and while his youth, in

some measure, excused him, I confess he did.
This is the last passage in this play that has been altered by the
learned French writer, whom I have already cited several times. He
has varied the lines as follows,
“Dum licitum est illi, dumque ætas tulit,
Si vixit liberius, at cavit ne id sibi
Infamiæ esset, ut virum fortem decet.”
Altered from the following,
“Dum licitum est illi, dumque ætas tulit,
 Amavit: tum id clam. Cavit ne unquam infamiæ
Ea res sibi esset, ut virum fortem decet.”
I have now completed my extracts of the alterations made by this
very learned and judicious writer, of various passages in our author,
which might sound somewhat harsh to a delicate ear. I cannot but
think that these alterations are worthy of the attention of the editors
of Latin classics, who might adopt them with advantage in those
editions of Terence, which are intended to be introduced into
schools. It is impossible to be too cautious respecting those writings
which are placed in the hands of youth: that work, perhaps, has the
greatest merit, which can be submitted to their perusal most
unreservedly.
“Virtutem doctrina paret.”—Horace.
I shall conclude this subject with an extract from that inestimable
Tractate of Education, addressed by Milton to Mr. Samuel Hartlib:
after various instructions to those who superintend the studies of
youth, he observes, “Either now, or before this, they may have easily
learnt, at any odd hour, the Italian tongue; and soon after, but with
wariness and good antidote, it would be wholesome enough to let
them taste some choice comedies, Greek, Latin, or Italian. Those
tragedies, also, that treat of household matters, as Trachiniæ,
Alcestis, and the like.”

NOTE 134.

He was cautious as a gentleman should be.

Cavit——ut virum fortem decet.

The words virum fortem in this passage do not mean a brave
man, but a noble, well-bred, or honourable man. Latin authors
sometimes used fortis in that sense. Thus, Ovid, speaking of
Polyxena, says,
 “Rapta sinu matris, quam jam propè sola fovebat,
Fortis, et infelix, et plusquam fœmina, virgo
Ducitur ad tumulum; diroque fit hostia busto.”

The noble maid, her mother’s only hope,

Torn from her fostering arms by barbarous force,
Was led a victim to Achilles’ tomb:
Where, to appease the hero’s angry shade,
They offered up the life of her he loved.

The Romans used virtus also in a similar manner to signify virtue,

bravery, and nobleness. The Greek word καλὸς was of the same
signification with the Latin fortis: it meant sometimes a brave,
sometimes a virtuous man. Menander employs τα καλα in this sense,

“Ἐν μυρίοις τα καλα γιγνεται πονοι.”

Menander.
A man, ere he deserves the name of great,
Must overcome ten thousand difficulties.

NOTE 135.

Simo. Yet he appeared to me to be somewhat melancholy.

This is admirably contrived by our author. Pamphilus is a youth of
so open and ingenuous a disposition, that he cannot attempt to
practise the slightest deceit upon his father, without a visible
uneasiness and sadness in his demeanour. Terence conducts this
affair in a manner infinitely more natural than does Sir R. Steele;
who makes young Bevil counterfeit an eagerness to attend the lady
his father designs for him, that is rather inconsistent with strict
ingenuousness. But Terence has shewn wonderful art in his
portraiture of Pamphilus’s behaviour in this scene: he asks his father
no questions; he is silent and spiritless; and sedulously avoids
mentioning any thing connected with his marriage, or his intended
bride, and, as Mr. Colman ingeniously suggests, Pamphilus’s
dissimulation may find some palliations in the artful instigations of
Davus.

NOTE 136.

Ten drachms for the wedding supper.

Instead of referring the reader to the Table of Money in Note 208,
for the value of the drachma, I purpose to enter more at large, in
this place, into a subject that has so much occupied the attention of
the learned. The drachma, (δραχμὴ,) it is generally agreed, was
equal to three scruples, six oboli, (ὀβολὸς,) and eighteen siliqua,
(κέρατιον). Pliny, Valerius Maximus, and Strabo, believed the Attic
drachma and the Roman denarius to be equivalent. But, if we admit
of the correctness of this estimation, it affords us no certain
information, as authors can agree as little on the value of the
denarius, as on that of the drachma. Kennett computes the Roman
denarius at 7d. 2qrs.; Greaves, Arbuthnot, and Adams, at 7d. 3q.;
Tillemont at 11d., and, in the Philosophical Transactions, (Vol. LXI.,
Part II., Art. 48.) they estimate the denarius at 8d. 1½q.
Mr. Raper makes the Attic drachm worth 9d. 286⁄1000. Greaves
reckons it equal to 67 grains, which, supposing silver to be sold at
5s. per ounce, fixes the drachm at 8d. 1½qr. Dr. Arbuthnot
computes it 6d. 3qr. 1368⁄4704. Others fix the Attic talent at 187l. 10s.,
and the drachm at 7d. 2qrs., or the eighth part of an ounce of silver.
If we take the mean of these computations, we may suppose the
Attic drachm to have been equal to 8d.; the Eginean to 13d. 3 qrs.;
the insular to 16d.; and the drachm of Antioch, to 48d. The learned
Madame Dacier speaks of the Attic drachm thus: “la drachme Attique
valait à peu près cinq sols.” No person, I think I may venture to
assert, was ever more habitually correct than Madame D.
 NOTE 137.

Indeed, Sir, I think you are too frugal; it is not well timed.

Tu quoque perparce nimium. Non laudo.

Donatus thinks, that the force of quoque in this line is as follows:
He (Pamphilus) is much to blame for his childish petulance in taking
offence at so trifling a circumstance: and you (Simo) also are to
blame for having made so sparing a provision for your son’s wedding
supper. Terence has managed the whole circumstance very artfully:
Simo intending to deceive Pamphilus and Davus, had provided to the
amount of ten drachms, which was sixty times more than the
expense of Chremes’ supper, which cost but an obolus, (vide Note
120,) and accounts for what he said to Sosia, Act I. Scene I. (vide
Note 60.) But we are meant to suppose, that his frugality would not
allow him to support the deceit by purchasing a plentiful wedding
supper, which, among the Athenian citizens of rank, was a most
expensive entertainment. (Vide Herodot. B. 1. C. 133. Arrian, B. 7. C.
26.)

NOTE 138.

Davus. (aside.) I’ve ruffled him now.

Simo is supposed to overhear this speech of Davus. Vide Note
210.
The whole of the second act (as well as the first) has been
preserved in Baron’s Andrienne, without alteration.
In the Conscious Lovers, the second act varies considerably.
Instead of the scene between Davus and his master, Indiana and
Isabella are introduced, and afterwards Indiana and Bevil: but both
these scenes are entirely barren of incident. Bevil protects Indiana,
as Pamphilus protects Glycera; but the former is on the footing of a
protector only, and remains an undeclared lover until the fifth act.
 Terence has wrought up the second act of this play with the
utmost art and caution: a particular beauty in the pieces written by
this great poet appears in the judicious disposition of his incidents,
and in his so industriously concealing his catastrophe until the
proper time for its appearance. This is a circumstance of great
importance in dramatic writing, to which some authors pay too little
attention. An ingenious critic of the last age has pointed out a very
extraordinary instance of a total deficiency of art in this respect,
where both the plot and the catastrophe are completely revealed in
the very title. This piece is Venice Preserved, or the Plot Discovered,
which is, in other respects, a very fine production. How much such a
title as this must deaden the interest that an audience would
otherwise feel from their suspense! This is a point which admits of
no argument.
“Vestibulum ante ipsum, primoque in limine finis
Scribitur.”——

NOTE 139.

Lesbia.
The circumstance of a female officiating as a medical attendant is
of some importance. Caius Hyginus, a learned Spaniard, and the
freedman of Augustus Cæsar, mentions in his “Mythological Fables”
an ancient Athenian law, prohibiting women from the practice of
physic: this prohibition was productive of great inconvenience in
many cases, and afterwards repealed; when free women were
suffered to practise midwifery. To ascertain the date of this repeal,
would afford us some guide to fix on the times, when the scenes
described in this play were supposed to happen, and the manners of
which both Menander and Terence meant to portray.

NOTE 140.

Glycera.
 I have taken the liberty of following the example of Bernard,
Echard, and most of the French translators, in softening the word
Glycerium, which, to an English ear, sounds masculine enough for
the name of Cæsar or of Alexander. But, for a female’s name,
——“Why, it is harder, Sirs, than Gordon,
Colkitto, or Macdonnel, or Galasp?
Those rugged names to our like mouths grow sleek,
That would have made Quintilian stare and gasp.”
Milton.

NOTE 141.

Mysis.—For, girl or boy, he has given orders, that the child shall be
brought up.
Nam quod peperisset jussit tolli.
Vide Notes 93, 126. When circumstances would not allow the
father of an infant to take it up from the ground himself, if he
intended to preserve it, he commissioned some friend to perform the
ceremony for him. This is the meaning of jussit tolli in this passage.
Vide Pitis Dict., Art. Expositio, and Athenæ. B. 10.

NOTE 142.
Simo.—O Jupiter! what do I hear? it is all over if what she says be
truth!—is he so mad? a foreigner too!
I imagine that in this passage, Terence meant Simo to call Glycera
a foreigner merely, and not a woman of light character, which
peregrina sometimes means, (vide Note 82.) Madame Dacier
translates the words ex peregrina by “quoi d’une étrangère? c’est à
dire d’une courtisane, car comme je l’ai remarqué ailleurs, on
donnoit le nom d’étrangères à toutes les femmes debauchées: et je
crois qu’ils avoient pris cela des Orientaux; car on trouve étrangère
en ce sens là dans les livres du Vieux Testament.” But peregrina will
hardly bear this interpretation in this particular passage, because we
must suppose that Simo had not that opinion of Glycera’s character;
for he himself (Act I. Scene I.) says, that her appearance was “so
modest and so charming, that nothing could surpass it.” Simo,
however, had sufficient reason for exclamation; supposing that he
considered Glycera merely as a person who was not a native of
Athens. The Athenian laws were rigorously strict in prohibiting a
citizen from contracting a marriage with any woman who was not a
citizen: if such a marriage was contracted, and the parties
impeached and convicted, the husband was fined very heavily, in
proportion to his property; the wife sold for a slave; and any person
who was proved to have used any species of deceit to induce the
Athenian to form this forbidden connexion, was punished with the
worst kind of infamy, which included the loss of his liberty and of his
estate. The first of these punishments was called ζημία, the second
δουλεία, and the third ἀτιμία. If Simo, therefore, supposed that
Glycera was not a citizen, and believed Pamphilus to be her
husband, his apprehensions appear very natural.

NOTE 143.

Glycera.—O Juno, Lucina, help! save me, I beseech thee.

Though Juno was sometimes called Lucina, Diana is the goddess
here called Juno Lucina. Diana received the appellation of Juno, (as I
apprehend,) because she was considered by the ancients as
presiding over women in child-birth: and might, therefore, very
properly be termed Juno, the guardian genius of women; as Junones
was the usual name for those spirits who were supposed to be the
protectors of women, as the genii were thought to be the guardians
of men: (vide Note 106.) Catullus addressing Diana, calls her
expressly by the names Juno Lucina:

“Tu Lucina dolentibus

Juno dicta puerperis.”
 And thou, Juno Lucina called
By women who implore thy aid.

Cicero also confirms the assertion of Catullus, “Ut apud Græcos

Dianam eamque Luciferam, sic apud nostros Junonem Lucinam
invocant.” As the Greeks call upon Diana Lucifera, so we call upon
the same goddess by the names of Juno Lucina. Diana was almost
universally worshipped in Greece, where many magnificent temples
were erected in her honour: amongst which, was that of Ephesus,
reckoned one of the wonders of the world. Of this magnificent
structure, the ruins may now be seen near Ajasalouc in Natolia. The
temple was purposely burned by Eratorastus, who adopted this
mode of perpetuating his name. The Greek festivals celebrated in
honour of their imaginary deities were almost innumerable: and
those dedicated to Diana, shew the high estimation in which she was
held. A surprising number of festivals were celebrated in honour of
this goddess, in various parts of Greece. The following are the
names of the chief of those held in Athens,
Τεσσαρακοστὸν, Μουνυχία, Θαργήλια, Λιμνατίδια, Ἀρτεμίσια,
Βραυρώνια, Ἐλαφηβόλια. Vide Athen., Δειπνοσο, B. 14.

NOTE 144.

Why, Davus, your incidents are not well timed at all, man.
“Non sat commode
Divisa sunt temporibus tibi, Dave, hæc.”

Another allusion to the drama: Simo compares Davus’s supposed

plot to a comedy, and Davus the contriver of it he calls magister,
which was the title of the person who instructed the actors in their
parts, or perhaps the title of the author. Simo accuses Davus of
bringing forward his catastrophe too soon, and asks him whether the
actors in his piece (discipuli) had forgotten their parts.
 Ancient dramatic writers were very strict in adhering to their rules
of composition.
According to Vossius, the ancients divided a comedy into three
parts: 1. protasis, 2. epitasis, 3. catastrophe. The protasis occupied
Act I., and was devoted to the explanation of the argument. The
epitasis took up Act II. III. IV., contained the incidents, and wrought
up the mind to a degree of interest, taking care to leave it in doubt;
which brought on the catastrophe, which unravelled and cleared up
the whole; and is defined by Scaliger thus, “conversio negotii
exagitati in tranquillitatem non expectatam:” a sudden changing of
the hurry and bustle of action into unexpected tranquillity. The same
learned critic adds a fourth part to the before-mentioned three,
which he calls catastasis, and places immediately before the
catastrophe: he defines the catastasis as follows, “vigor ac status
fabulæ, in qua res miscetur in ea fortunæ tempestate, in quam
subducta est:” that liveliness and issue of the plot, in which the
various incidents are mixed up in such a commotion of fortune as to
be in a proper state to be brought down to the catastrophe.

NOTE 145.

What a laughing-stock would this rascal have made of me.

Quos mihi ludos redderet.

This is an allusion to the games which were exhibited among the
ancients with a view to entertain the people; and also to create in
them a spirit of emulation in glorious actions. Games, both in Greece
and Rome, constituted a part of religious worship; they were divided
into three classes, 1. what the Romans called ludi equestres, or
horse, and chariot-races; 2. ludi agonales, or combats of gladiators
and others, and also of beasts; 3. ludi scenici et musici, or dramatic
exhibitions of all kinds, music, dancing, &c. The chief games among
the Greeks were, 1. the Olympic, dedicated to Jupiter; 2. the
Pythian, to Apollo; 3. the Nemæan, to Hercules; 4. the Isthmian, to
Neptune; 5. the games celebrated at the observation of the
Eleusinian mysteries, in honour of Ceres and Proserpine: 6. the great
Panathenæa, dedicated to Minerva. Those who obtained the victory
in these games, were universally distinguished; and their success
reflected glory on their family, and even on the cities from whence
they came; part of the wall of which was thrown down to admit
them in triumph on their return. Those Athenians who were
conquerors in the Olympic games, were afterwards (at their own
option,) maintained at the public charge, and enjoyed various
extraordinary privileges. Among the Romans, the principal games
were, 1. the Ludi Romani, dedicated to Jupiter, Juno, and Minerva; 2.
the Sæculares, to the deities and the fates; 3. the Consuales, to
Neptunus Equestris; 4. the Capitolini, to Jupiter Capitolinus. The
Romans celebrated their games chiefly in the Circus Maximus;
which, as a place of entertainment, was magnificently extensive.
Pliny asserts that it would contain one quarter of a million of
spectators; and more modern authors have augmented that number
to 380,000.

NOTE 146.

Now, first, let her be bathed.

Nunc primum fac——ut lavet.

Though I have followed the common reading in this passage, as it
is not a point of any importance, I think it doubtful whether Terence
meant Lesbia to speak of the mother or the child, when she said the
words fac ut lavet, as the Greeks practised a remarkable ceremony
on new-born infants, in order to strengthen them. A mixture of
water, oil, and wine, was made in a vessel kept for the purpose,
which they called λουτρὸν and χύτλος, and, with this liquid, they
washed the children; as some think, they wished to try the strength
of the infant’s constitution, which, if weak, yielded to the powerful
fumes of the wine, and the children fell into fits. I imagine that this
was done, when it was the question if an infant should be exposed,
as puny, sickly children sometimes were. (Vide Note 93.)

NOTE 147.

Davus.—Truly, at this rate, I shall hardly dare open my mouth.

Sed, si quid narrare occæpi continuo dari
Tibi verba censes.
S. Falso.
D. Itaque hercle nil jam mutire audeo.
Dr. Bentley reads falso in Davus’s speech; and Cooke thinks it
should be altogether omitted. I have followed the old English edition
in supposing the word in question to be spoken ironically, which is
certainly consistent with the usual style of conversation between
Simo and Davus.

NOTE 148.
Now, finding that the marriage preparations are going forwards in
our house, she sends her maid to fetch a midwife.
This is a very subtle contrivance. Davus intends that the birth of
Pamphilus’s child shall be reported to Chremes to alarm him, (as we
see Act V. Scene I. page 82,) and, therefore, that Simo may not
suspect him, he persuades him that Glycera is contriving to spread
reports of Pamphilus’s engagements to her. M. Baron has entirely
omitted the incident of the birth of the child. He introduces Sosia
again to fill up the chasm. In a scene between Simo, Davus, and
Chremes, the latter is induced to renew his consent to the marriage,
by overhearing a conversation between Simo and Davus; in which,
as in the original, the slave invents a tale that Pamphilus and Glycera
are at variance.
Sir R. Steele varies the third act altogether; he makes it turn
wholly on the underplot, of which the chief personages are Lucinda,
and her two lovers Myrtle and Cimberton: the latter is a pedantic
coxcomb, and added to the original characters by the English poet.

NOTE 149.
And to provide a child at the same time, thinking that unless you
should see a child, the marriage would not be impeded.
——“Et puerum ut adferret simul;
Hoc nisi fit puerum ut tu videas, nil moventur nuptiæ.”
Moventur, in this passage, does not mean to move forward: but
signifies to move back with disturbance, to hinder, or to disorder,
and is used instead of perturbantur. Moveo is very unfrequently
though sometimes employed in this sense. I shall cite one passage
from Horace, where it has the same meaning as in the before-
mentioned line from Terence.

——“Censorque moveret
Appius, ingenuo si non essem patre natus.”

He to whom I owe my birth was free,

A freeborn citizen: had he not been so,
The censor Claudius Appius would have stopt,
And driven me back.

NOTE 150.

A. III. S. III. Simo. (alone) I am not exactly, &c.

Terence uses an expression in the beginning of this scene that
has been a source of discussion among the critics. It is in the
following line,
“Atque haud scio an quæ dixit sint vera omnia.”
 I have selected from a very long note on this passage, by an
eminent writer, the following extracts, which will afford, I trust, a
satisfactory elucidation of the line in question.
“Atque haud scio an quæ dixit sint vera omnia: this seems, at first
sight, to signify, I do not know if all that he has told me be truth;
but, in the elegance of the Latin expression, however, haud scio an,
means the same as fortasse (perhaps) as if he had said haud scio an
non. Thus, in the Brothers, A. IV. S. V. v. 33. Qui infelix haud scio an
illam misere non amat: which does not mean, I do not know
whether he loves her, but, on the contrary, I do not know that he
does not love her. Also, in Cicero’s Epistles, B. IX. L. 13., Istud
quidem magnum, atque haud scio an maximum; this is a great
thing, and perhaps the greatest of all, or, I do not know but it is the
greatest of all. And, also, in his Oration for Marcellus, when he said
that future ages would form a juster estimate of Cæsar’s character
than could be made by men of his own times; he says, Servis iis
etiam indicibus qui multis post sæculis de te judicabunt, et quidem
haud scio, an incorruptius quam nos. There are numberless
examples of this kind in the writings of Cicero, and I know that there
are some which make for the opposite side of the question, as in his
book on “Old Age,” speaking of a country life, he says, Atque haud
scia an ulla possit esse beatior vita. But, it is my opinion, that these
passages have been altered by some person who did not understand
that mode of expression, and that it ought to be, Atque haud scio an
nulla possit esse beatior vita.” The Author of the old Translation of
Terence. Printed 1671. Paris.
Terence frequently has this construction: the two following
sentences are of similar difficulty: they both occur in this play:
Id paves, ne ducas tu illam; tu autem, ut ducas.
Cave te esse tristem sentiat.

NOTE 151.
 A. III. S. IV. Simo, Chremes.

Simo.—Chremes, I am very glad to see you.

“Jubeo Chremetem (saluere)”: the last word is not spoken,
because the speaker is interrupted by Simo. It is necessary to
observe that jubeo does not always signify to command, but
sometimes means to wish, to desire, especially when the speaker’s
wish is afterwards verbally expressed; according to what Donatus
observes on this passage, “Columus animo, jubemus verbis.”—Old
Paris Edition.
Terence has portrayed Chremes as a very amiable character; he is
mild and patient, and the most benevolent sentiments issue from his
lips. It was necessary, as Donatus observes, to represent Chremes
with this temper, for, had he been violent and headstrong, he could
not have been supposed to seek Simo, and afterwards renew his
consent, which is a very important incident, upon which the
remainder of the epitasis entirely hinges. The Chremes of Sir R.
Steele (Sealand) has all the worth of Terence’s original, but is
deficient in that polish of manners which renders the Latin character
so graceful.

NOTE 152.

The quarrels of lovers is the renewal of their love.

Amantium iræ amoris integratio est.

In this sentence I have followed the Latin grammatical
construction; and I believe it is also allowable in English, in such a
case as this, to choose at pleasure either the antecedent or the
subsequent for the nominative case. Very few sentences from
profane writers have (I imagine) been more frequently repeated
than Amantium iræ amoris integratio est, an observation which is
undeniably just. This sentence has been repeatedly imitated.
 As by Seneca,
Plisth. “Redire pietas, unde summota est, solet.
Reparatque vires justus amissas amor.”
Thyestes, A. III. S. I.
Affection, though repell’d, will still return:
And faithful love, though for a moment curb’d,
Or driven away, will, with augmented strength,
Regain its empire.
And also by Ovid,
Quæ modò pugnarunt jungunt sua rostra columbæ,
Quarum blanditias verbaque murmur habet.
Ovid, Art. Am., B. 2. v. 465.

NOTE 153.
Simo.—Yet the most serious mischief, after all, can amount but to a
separation, which may the gods avert.
The Athenian laws permitted citizens to divorce their wives on
very trivial pretences; but compelled them, at the same time, to give
in a memorial to the archons, stating the grounds on which the
divorce was desired. A citizen might put away his wife, without any
particular disgrace being attached to either the husband or the wife;
and when the divorce was by mutual consent, the parties were at
liberty to contract elsewhere. He who divorced his wife, was
compelled to restore her dowry, though he was allowed to pay it by
instalments: sometimes it was paid as alimony, nine oboli each
month.
For a very flagrant offence, a wife, by the Athenian laws, might
divorce her husband: if the men divorced, they were said
ἀποπέμπειν, or ἀπολεύειν, to send away their wives: but if the
women divorced, they were said ἀπολείπειν, to quit their husbands.
(Vide Potter’s Arch. Græc., Vol. II. B. IV. C. 12.)
 Terence artfully makes Simo use the word discessio instead of
divortium, or discidium, or repudium: which means the worst kind of
divorce. Discessio, among the Romans, was nearly the same as a
separation among us: by separation, I mean what our lawyers call
divorce a mensa et thoro; which does not dissolve the marriage; and
which they place in opposition to divorce a vinculo matrimonii; which
is a total divorce. In the earlier ages of the Roman Republic, the wife
had no option of divorcing her husband: but it was afterwards
allowed, as we see in Martial.
“Mense novo Jani veterem, Proculeia, maritum
Deseris, atque jubes res sibi habere suas.
Quid, rogo, quid factum est? subiti quæ causa doloris?”
B. 10. Epigr. 39.

NOTE 154ᴬ.

Why is not the bride brought? it grows late.

An Athenian bride was conveyed to her bridegroom’s house in the
evening by torchlight, attended by her friends: vide Notes 116, 117,
118, 119. Various singular customs prevailed among the Athenians
at their marriages: when the bride entered her new habitation,
quantities of sweetmeats were poured over her person: she and her
husband also ate quinces, and the priests who officiated at
marriages (vide St. Basil, Hom. 7, Hexame.) first made a repast on
grasshoppers, (τέττιγες, cicadæ,) which were in high esteem among
the Athenians, who wore golden images of this insect in their hair,
and, on that account, were called τέττιγες. Grasshoppers were
thought to have originally sprung from the earth; and, for that
reason, were chosen as the symbol of the Athenians, who pretended
to the same origin.

NOTE 154ᴮ.
I have been fearful that you would prove perfidious, like the
common herd of slaves, and deceive me in this intrigue of
Pamphilus.
Ego dudum non nil veritus sum.
Donatus makes a remark on the style of this sentence, which
deserves attention, “gravis oratio ab hoc pronomine (ego)
plerumque inchoatur,” a speech which begins with the pronoun ego
is generally grave and serious: to which some commentator has
added the following remark respecting the before-mentioned
passage from Terence, “Est autem hoc principium orationis Simonis à
benevolentia per antithesin.” The remarks of Donatus and Nonnius
on the style of our author, are generally very acute and ingenious.
Scaliger, Muretus, and Trapp, may be added to the critics before
mentioned. The learned writer last named has composed a treatise
in Latin “De Dramate,” which contains many very valuable hints
relative to dramatic writing.

NOTE 155.

Simo.—Ha! what’s that you say?

There is a play upon words here, which I have endeavoured to
preserve in the English. The Latin is as follows. Davus. Occidi. Simo.
Hem! quid dixisti? Davus. Optume inquam factum. If the requisite
similarity of sound was preserved in this pun, it may be conjectured
that the Latin i was not pronounced very differently from the i of the
modern Italians. Vide Note 92.

NOTE 156.

Pam.—What trust can I put in such a rascal?

Oh! tibi ego ut credam furcifer?