Written by Gilbert Edwards

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The Roman dramatist Titus Maccius Plautus (c.254 – 184 BCE) provides the modern world with the earliest finished works of Latin literature. His comedies were centred around the late fourth Century Greek ‘New Comedy’ mould (a fictional narrative with stock characters rather than an inclusion of the divine or socio-political overtones of the time which characterised the ‘Old Comedy’ genre which came before). Much is unknown about the dramatist’s life, but he was held in high esteem by contemporaries and successors – Publius Terence Afer (or Terence as we know him) was a famous Plautian successor – for his style and wit. His plays belong to the fabula palliatae style, where the plays themselves are characterised by a Greek influence, in attire and locality (and some of Plautus’ plays were translated from Greek).  

His comedy, Mostellaria (The Ghost), is fast-paced and bursting with sharp wit. Its plot is simple but effective: Theopropides has been away for months leaving his son Philolaches at home, who has resorted to drunken revelry and plunged his father into debt by paying for the freedom of a slave-girl whom he is infatuated with. Theopropides returns unexpectedly, but Philolaches’ slave, Tranio, deftly invents a story that the house has been deserted for weeks because of a ghost. For the rest of the play, Tranio attempts to conceal from Theopropides the whereabouts of his son and what he has been up to until he finally discovers the truth.  

Plautus’ comedy is interesting for various reasons. Firstly, it is a play of retorts. Quips between characters occur throughout the comedy, starting with Grumio and Tranio and create a fast-paced, crisp narrative whilst providing humorous ripostes, such as Grumio’s retort to Tranio: “Gallows-meat, that’s what you are…”.  

Secondly, the domestic power dynamic between master and slave is reversed, with Tranio portrayed as audacious, confident, and wily. In contrast, Theopropides is presented as somewhat dithering and impressionable to Tranio’s elaborate schemes. The fact that Tranio is not an archetypal slave (subjected, polite and obedient) only adds a dry humour to the corpus as he makes ironic statements about his relationship with his master; the best of these is when Tranio points out a supposed painting on the wall to Theopropides of “a crow standing between two vultures and plucking at them alternately”, creating dramatic irony as the “crow” is obviously him (but this is not obvious to Theopropides). Tranio’s commanding nature is boundless as he orders his ‘master’ Theopropides, “Don’t interrupt, please. Just listen”, to his searching questions, and cunningly deals with both Theopropides and the moneylender (who wants the debt Philolaches owes) with some quick thinking.  

Meanwhile, his philosophising (possibly to the audience), “we’re all alike, aren’t we? Master or servant, there’s not a pin to choose between us for honesty – or dishonesty”, is not only humorous but also arguably reveals a sad truth (at least to a twenty-first Century audience) about the general disregard for slaves in Rome as fellow human beings. Tranio’s insight perhaps dampens some of the humour that might have been caused in a contemporary setting. The comedic divide between a Plautian and modern audience is something E.F. Watling admits in his introduction, as he explains some Latin quips are beyond translatable comprehension, and thus the translator has a certain licence for “gratuitous invention”. 

Thirdly, the relationship between Philematium and Scapha (literally meaning, ‘a light boat’) –her maidservant – is reminiscent of daughter and mother respectively. Indeed, Scapha attempts to direct Philematium (there is possibly some pun here on Scapha’s name) away from ruining her natural beauty with excessive makeup but also not to devote herself to “that young man alone”. Scapha, presumably old from Philolaches’ description of her as an “old hag”, represents experience with her replies steeped in cold realism, such as “when love grows older, it grows colder” which contrast Philematium’s naivety. This seems to mirror the relationship between Tranio and Theopropides and his son in terms of the domestic dynamic, as Scapha is right about the faults of Philolaches.  

Exaggerated and slapstick, the humour of Mostellaria might remind one of more recent permutations of similar humour in the era of silent films, such as Charlie Chaplin or Laurel and Hardy. Nevertheless, it still produces the desired affect: it makes you laugh. Although perhaps an unsubtle and simple humour, Mostellaria certainly delivers. Having Philolaches make surprised remarks at the side, while eavesdropping on Scapha and Philematium’s conversation, provides a crosscutting technique between the two parts of the scene, as the audience hears the topic of conversation (the character and suitability of Philolaches for Philematium) and the subject’s (Philolaches’) reaction.  

Ultimately, Mostellaria is both a humorous read but also presents an interesting dynamic between slave and master or mistress. A light play, Plautus’ comedy is definitely worth a read, if not for the power dynamics as much as the comic retorts which occur throughout and still make one laugh in the twenty-first Century – if perhaps less than a contemporary Roman audience might. 

Featured image credit: “Tragedy and Comedy” by Tim Green aka atoach is licensed under CC BY 2.0.