If Plautus himself greatly cared or expected his restless, uncultivated, fun-seeking audience to care, about the construction of his plays, one must criticize him and rank him on a very different basis than if his main, and often his sole, object was to amuse the groundlings. If he often took himself and his art with hardly more seriousness than does the writer of the vaudeville skit or musical comedy of to-day, if he often wished primarily to gain the immediate laugh, then much of Langen’s long list of the playwright’s dramatic delinquencies is somewhat beside its intended point. And in large measure this--to hold his audience by any means--does seem to have been his ambition: if the joke mars the part, down with the part; if the ludicrous scene interrupts the development of the plot, down with the plot. We have plenty of verbal evidence that the dramatist frequently chose to let his characters become caricatures; we have some verbal evidence that their “stage business” was sometimes made laughably extravagant; in many cases it is sufficiently obvious that he expected his actors to indulge in grotesqueries, well or ill timed, no matter, provided they brought guffaws. It is probable, therefore, that in many other cases, where the tone and “stage business” are not as obvious, where an actor’s high seriousness might elicit catcalls, and burlesque certainly would elicit chuckles, Plautus wished his players to avoid the catcalls. This is by no means the universal rule. In the writer of the _Captivi_, for instance, we are dealing with a dramatist whose aims are different and higher. Though Lessing’s encomium of the play is one to which not all of us can assent, and though even the _Captivi_ shows some technical flaws, it is a work which must be rated according to the standards we apply to a _Minna von Barnhelm_ rather than according to those applied to a _Pinafore_: here, certainly, we have comedy, not farce. But whatever standards be applied to his plays their outstanding characters, their amusing situations, their vigour and comicality of dialogue remain. Euclio and Pyrgopolynices, the straits of the brothers Menaechmus and the postponement of Argyrippus’s desires, the verbal encounter of Tranio and Grumio, of Trachalio and the fishermen-- characters, situations, and dialogues such as these should survive because of their own excellence, not because of modern imitations and parallels such as Harpagon and Parolles, the misadventures of the brothers Antipholus and Juliet’s difficulties with her nurse, the remarks of Petruchio to the tailor, of Touchstone to William.