This play is of particular interest, as the major portion of what survives (11. 1–87 of the Oxford Classical Text) was the first sizeable fragment of Menander’s work to be discovered and published.1 Three more tiny pieces of papyrus confirm or slightly extend our text, and there are also some short quotations from ancient authors. But the Geneva papyrus remains our major source of information. It starts in the middle of a monologue by a young man (who sounds like a Moschion), and reveals what is in many respects a standard situation of New Comedy. He has got his neighbour Myrrhine’s daughter pregnant, the baby is due, he has not been able to arrange the marriage, and he is now faced with a different marriage arranged for him by his father. The dialogue which follows reinforces this information, and produces a further complication in the offer by Kleainetos (the farmer of the title) to marry the girl.
All this clearly comes early in the action of the play. There is an indication of an act division soon after the end of the dialogue: it is probably, though not certainly, the end of Act One. The confusion must have been resolved, and the desired marriage duly arranged, but we can only guess how this was done. Perhaps Kleainetos turned out to be Myrrhine’s long-lost husband, and so the father of the girl? There is contrast in the play between relative riches (the Young Man and Kleainetos) and respectable poverty (Myrrhine and Gorgias – the same names and situation as, but very different characters from, those in Old Cantankerous), and some general moral reflections are drawn from that. But we need more information to produce any certainty about plot development. Meantime, the interest of the fragment is in its presentation of another variation on a theme and on character names.
A YOUNG MAN, possibly called MOSCHION
MYRRHINE, his neighbour, perhaps a widow
PHILINNA, an old woman, perhaps a nurse
| DAOS | |
servants to the Young Man’s father |
| SYROS |
GORGIAS, Myrrhine’s son
KLEAINETOS, a farmer
The Young man’s FATHER probably also appeared.
SCENE: a street, possibly in Athens. There are two houses, Myrrhine’s on the left, and that of the Young Man’s father on the right.
The Young Man is speaking. The beginning of his speech is lost.
YOUNG MAN:… I went to her mother,2 did all the right things, without any qualms at all. I was no villain, and no one thought I was. But with the boy3 still out at the farm, a blow fell which has finished me. I was off in corinth on private business, and I come back in the evening to find a different marriage being organized for me– garlands being put on the gods, my father making the proper offerings inside.4 My father himself is giving away the bride – she’s [10] my half-sister, daughter of his present wife.5 How to struggle out of this disastrous coil I have no idea. But the position’s this: I’ve slipped6 out of the house without a word, and abandoned the wedding – I couldn’t do that to my darling. That would be unforgivable.
I’ve every intention of knocking at their door, but I’ve been hesitating for ages. I don’t know if her brother’s home from the farm now. I must be very careful. Well, I’ll take myself off and [20] work out a way to dodge that wedding. [He goes off, left, as MYRRHINE and PHILINNA enter, right.]
MYHRHINE: You’re sympathetic, philinna. That’s why I’m talking to you, and telling you all my problems. Well, that’s where we are now.
PHILINNA: Heavens, my dear, as I listen to your story I can hardly stop myself from going to the door and calling out this deceiver and telling him what I think of him.
MYRRHINE: Please don’t, philinna. Let it be.
PHILINNA: Let it be? You can’t mean it. Damn him, he’s a villain. And is this scum to contract a marriage, after he’s ruined our [30] girl?
[Enter DAOS and SYROS, left, carrying branches of green leaves.]
MYRRHINE: Here’s Daos, their servant, back from the farm with all these branches he’s been cutting.7 Let’s move over here a bit.
PHILINNA: Why should we worry about him? That’ll be the day! [They move aside.]
DAOS: I don’t think anyone farms a piece of land with a better idea of its religious obligations. It produces myrtle, lovely ivy, such flowers! But plant anything else, and it gives a due and proper return, no surplus, just the average. Still – Syros, take all this stuff inside, it’s all for the wedding. [As SYROS does so, DAOS sees [40] MYRRHINE.] Morning, Myrrhine.
MYRRHINE: Good morning to you.
DAOS: I didn’t see you, madam. How are you? I want to give you a taste of good news or rather, God willing, of good fortune to come. I want to be the first to tell you. Well now, Kleainetos – where your youngster’s working – when he was hoeing in his vineyard the other day, he gashed his leg. Right job he made of it, too.
MYRRHINE: Oh, dear.
DAOS: Not to worry. Just listen to the rest of the story. Two days later, the old chap’s groin was all swollen from the wound, and he [50] was feverish, in a real bad way.
PHILINNA: Well, for heaven’s sake! Is this the ‘good news’ you’ve come to tell us?
MYRRHINE: Don’t interrupt, Philinna.
DAOS: So he needed someone to look after him. The servants – and he has no one else – are all foreigners, and they consigned him to the devil. But your son, treating him like his own father, did what was necessary. He put ointment on his leg, rubbed him down, washed him, brought him food and cheered him up. The farmer [60] looked to be in a pretty bad way, but your son’s treatment got him on his feet again.
PHILINNA: The dear boy!
DAOS: Oh, yes, well done that man. As Kleainetos recovered at home and was able to relax, away from his mattock and his troubles – for the old chap has a pretty hard life – he asked about the boy’s position (though perhaps he had some idea of it already). Anyhow, the boy confided in him, and told him about his sister, [70] and how you weren’t well off.8 The old man sympathized, as people do, and thought he must on all counts repay his debt for your son’s attention. He’s old and lonely, and he showed sense, for he plans to marry your daughter. That’s the sum and substance of the whole story. They’ll be here any minute, and he’ll take her off to the farm. You can all stop your struggle with poverty – which is a stubborn, cantankerous beast, especially in the city. One should either be rich, I think, or live where there’s no one to witness one’s misfortune. Country solitude’s the answer to this [80] problem. Well, that was the good news I wanted to bring you. Goodbye.
MYRRHINE [faintly]: Goodbye. [DAOS goes into the house.]
PHILINNA: What’s wrong, my dear? Why are you walking about wringing your hands?
MYRRHINE: Oh, Philinna, I don’t know what to do.
PHILINNA: What about?
MYRRHINE: Her baby’s due, my dear, any minute now!
Only scraps remain of the rest of the scene (nine more lines). It is fairly clear that Myrrhine and Philinna go into Myrrhine’s house, and that there is a Choral Interlude. The remains of the next act are even more scrappy, but indicate a conversation between Gorgias and Philinna, and the cries that signify the birth of a baby within. Apart from the following fragments, which cannot confidently be assigned to any particular part of the play, that is all we have.
(?)KLEAINETOS: It’s easy to treat a poor man with contempt, Gorgias, even if his cause is absolutely just. For he’s thought to be speaking with one motive only – gain. Anyone with a shabby coat is promptly dubbed ‘twister’ – even if he’s the injured party.
(?)KLEAINETOS or DAOS: The man, whoever he is, who’s done damage to your poverty, is heading for trouble. Because what he’s damaged is something that could one day be his own. Even if he’s very rich, high-living is not soundly based. Fortune’s stream can dry up very quickly.
(?)KLEAINETOS: The best man, Gorgias, is the one who can best bear injury without losing his control. This quick temper and excessive bitterness is simply a general indication of a poor spirit.
?)ANOTHER YOUNG MAN: Are you out of your mind? It’s ridiculous! You’ve fallen in love with a respectable girl, and you don’t speak for her. And for no good reason you ignore a marriage that’s being arranged for you.
(?)KLEAINETOS: I’m a countryman, I’m not claiming otherwise, and I’ve absolutely no experience of city life. But the years have brought me a little extra wisdom.
Two more fragments exist, and a statement in Quintilian (11, 3, 91) which implies that in this play a young man quoted a woman’s words, and did so in a quavering, effeminate voice. The rest is (so far) silence.