Nausistrata. A wicked and terrible thing, by the immortal gods! Phormio (overhearing CHREMES). Do? There's nothing left to do. Phormio. Was there ever anything more disgrace ful? Nausistrata. I address you, Demipho, for it makes me sick to talk to that creature. Was this the reason of his travelling so often to Lemnos and staying there so long? Was this the cause of the fall in prices which brought down our income? Demipho. Nausistrata, I admit that he deserves blame in this matter, but it is n't an unpardonable offence. Phormio (aside). He's pleading for the dead. Demipho. It was n't, you must understand, because he was tired of you, or because he disliked you, that he did this. It all happened about fifteen years ago. He had been drinking when he met the woman. This girl was born, but he never had anything to do with the mother afterwards. She's dead and gone now; the only difficulty is removed. So, I beg you, be patient in this, as you have been in all other matters. Nausistrata. I patient? I am indeed sorely anxious that this should be his last offence, but how can I hope for that? Am I to suppose that he will grow steadier as he grows older? Why, he was old when he did it; so much for years bringing steadiness! Are my looks and age likely to be more attractive to him now than they were then, Demipho? What grounds do you give me for expecting or hoping that he won't do it again? Phormio. Now's the time for all who would attend the funeral of Chremes! That's the way I'll give it to him. Such is the fate of those who attack Phormio, so let any one who likes come on, and I'll lay him as low as this man here. But I'm willing that he should be pardoned; he 's had punishment enough to satisfy me. His wife has something to din into his ears as long as he lives. Nausistrata. Well, I've deserved this, I suppose. What's the good of my telling you now in detail, Demipho, what a good wife I've been to him? Demipho. I know it all as well as you do. Nausistrata. Then do you think that I deserved such treatment? Demipho. Not in the least. But seeing that what's done can't be undone by reproaches, forgive him. He begs your pardon, acknowledges his sin, and makes a clean breast of it. What more do you want? Phormio (aside). Before she forgives him, I must look out for myself and for Phaedria. Look here, Nausistrata, before you give any rash answer, listen to me. Nausistrata. What have you to say? Phormio. I got thirty minae out of him by a trick ; I've given them to your son, who has bought his mistress with them from a slave-trader. Chremes. Eh, what 's that you say? Nausistrata. Pray, do you think it such a heinous crime that your son, who is a young man, should have a mistress, while you have two wives? Have you no shame? Will you have the face to blame him? An swer me. Demipho. He'll do as you wish. Nausistrata. No, to tell you my feeling in the matter, I don't mean to pardon him or to make any promise, or even to give an answer, until I've seen my son; I leave it all to him to decide; I'll do what he bids me. Phormio. You 're a sensible woman, Nausistrata. Nausistrata (to CHREMES). Are you satisfied with that? Chremes. Yes. (Aside.) I'm coming off finely,much better than I expected. Nausistrata. Tell me your name. Phormio. Phormio, a friend of your family, and especially of your son Phaedria. Nausistrata. Well, Phormio, I assure you, after this I'll do whatever I can for you, both in word and deed. Phormio. You're very kind. Nausistrata. Not at all, you deserve it. Phormio. Would you like, Nausistrata, to do something to-day that would please me, and at the same time vex your husband's sight? Nausistrata. I certainly should. Nausistrata. Indeed I do. Demipho. Let's go inside, then. Nausistrata. Yes, but where's Phaedria, our judge? Phormio. I'll have him here presently. [Exeunt PHORMIO towards the forum, the others into CHREMES' house. Cantor 1 (to the audience). Farewell, and give us your applause. 1 The cantor, whose principal function was to sing the lyrical parts of the play, always spoke the last words. LUCRETIUS BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH ST. JEROME in his Chronicle places the birth of Lucretius in the year 94, adding that after having become insane by drinking a love philtre he wrote some books in the lucid intervals of his madness; that he committed suicide in his forty-fourth year, and that Cicero revised his work. From other sources it seems probable that 97 and not 94 was the year of the poet's birth. The remaining statements of St. Jerome's notice are likewise open to grave question. The story of the love philtre may be dismissed without discussion; and there is no confirmation of the assertions concerning his madness and suicide. The Cicero mentioned is probably the famous orator, but even this is uncertain. His poem On the Nature of Things consists of six books, and is an exposition of the doctrines of the Epicurean philosophy. The first two books are devoted to the atomic theory in its more general aspects. Starting from the two fundamental principles that nothing is produced from nothing and that nothing returns to nothing, he explains the existence of the universe, of all forms of life, of all natural phenomena, as due to the chance combination of an infinite number of atoms moving in an infinite void. The atoms have existed from all eternity, and are indestructible. They are of extreme minuteness, indivisible, and imperceptible by any of the senses. Having an inherent power of deflection they swerve from the straight line as they fall, and, colliding, combine in forms of manifold variety. The third book deals with the constitution of the soul, which is, like everything else, material, consisting of small round atoms of unusual fineness. It cannot exist apart from the body. In the fourth book we have a treatment of sense perceptions; in the fifth, of the formation of the world, the origin of life, and the development of man; in the sixth, of such natural phenomena as thunder, lightning, and earthquakes. The poem concludes with an account of the plague at Athens. It was not, however, so much the theory of Epicurus that attracted Lucretius as its practical application. In his view of life there were two principal causes of unhappiness : belief in the interference of the gods in the affairs of the world, and fear of death. He welcomed the Epicurean philosophy, because, as he believed, it proved that both were groundless. Epicurus did, it is true, believe in the existence of gods, but the atomic theory excluded them from all part in the creation and management of the world. They lived in perfect tranquillity somewhere in the vast spaces between the worlds, and paid no attention to terrestrial things. There was accordingly no reason why men should dread them. In the same way, the soul having been proved to be subject to immediate disintegration on separating from the body, death should have no more ter rors. The most conspicuous feature of the book is the poet's splendid enthusiasm. His theme does not at first sight seem to be an inspiring one, but the atomic theory came to him as a revelation, and the realization of what it meant for him and for all who would believe filled him with a sort of frenzy. He had what the Greeks called pavía, possession, something stronger than inspiration as ordinarily used, and this, carrying him without a sign of weariness through long and intricate disquisitions on details of the theory, manifests itself every now and then with increased intensity in some arraignment of religion so-called, or some fine piece of descriptive writing, or a glorification of Epicurus. All his |