actually sitting in the semicircle of the auditorium facing the copy at
that time being presented on the stage. "What a passion of excitement!
What transports of enthusiasm and angry protest! What bursts of
uncontrollable merriment! What thunders of applause! How the Comic Poet
must have felt himself a King, indeed, in presence of these popular
storms which, like the god of the sea, he could arouse and allay at his
good will and pleasure!"[2]

To return for a moment to the coarseness of language so often pointed to
as a blot in Aristophanes. "The great comedian has been censured and
apologized for on this ground, over and over again. His personal
exculpation must always rest upon the fact, that the wildest licence in
which he indulged was not only recognized as permissible, but actually
enjoined as part of the ceremonial at these festivals of Bacchus; that it
was not only in accordance with public taste, but was consecrated as a
part of the national religion.... But the coarseness of Aristophanes is
not corrupting. There is nothing immoral in his plots, nothing really
dangerous in his broadest humour. Compared with some of our old English
dramatists, he is morality itself. And when we remember the plots of some
French and English plays which now attract fashionable audiences, and the
character of some modern French and English novels not unfrequently found
(at any rate in England) upon drawing-room tables, the least that can be
said is, that we had better not cast stones at Aristophanes."[3]
Moreover, it should be borne in mind that Athenian custom did not
sanction the presence of women--at least women of reputable character--at
these performances.

The particular plays, though none are free from it, which most abound in
this ribald fun--for fun it always is, never mere pruriency for its own
sake, Aristophanes has a deal of the old 'esprit gaulois' about him--are