The plot of the _Adelphi_ may thus be perhaps considered as double; but the interest which Æschinus takes in Ctesipho’s amour, combines their loves so naturally, that they can hardly be considered as distinct or separate; and the details by which the plot is carried on, are managed with such infinite skill, that the intrigue of at least four acts of the _Adelphi_ is more artfully conducted than that of any other piece of Terence. At the commencement of the play, Micio summons his servant Storax, whom he had sent to find out Æschinus; but as the servant does not appear, Micio concludes that the youth had not yet returned from the place where he had supped on the preceding evening, and is in consequence overwhelmed with all the tender anxiety of a father concerning an absent son. This alarm gives us some insight into the character of the young man, and explains the interest Micio takes in his welfare, without shewing too plainly the art and design of the author. His uneasiness, by naturally leading him to reflect on the situation of the family, and the doubtful part he had himself acted, brings in less awkwardly than usual one of those long soliloquies, in which the domestic affairs of the speaker are explained by him for the sake of the audience. Demea is then introduced, having just learned, on his arrival in the city, that Æschinus had carried off the music girl. His character and predominant feelings are finely marked in the account which he gives of this outrage, dwelling on every minute particular, and exaggerating the offences of Æschinus. This passage, too, acquires additional zest and relish, on a second perusal of the play, when it is known that the son so much commended is chiefly in fault. The grief of the mother of the girl, who was betrothed to Æschinus, and the honest indignation of her faithful old servant Geta, are highly interesting. The interview of Micio with his adopted son, after he had discovered the circumstances of this connection, is eminently beautiful. His delicate reproof for the young man’s want of confidence, in not communicating to him the state of his heart—the touches of good humour, mildness, and affection, which may be traced in every line of Micio’s part of the dialogue, as well as the natural bursts of passion, and ingenuous shame, in Æschinus, are perhaps more characteristic of the tender and elegant genius of Terence, than any other scene in his dramas. But the triumph of comic art, is the gradation of Demea’s anger and distresses—his perfect conviction of the sobriety of his son, who, he is persuaded by Syrus, had shewn the utmost indignation at the conduct of Æschinus, and had gone to the country in disgust, when in fact he was at that moment seated at a feast—then his perplexity on not finding him at the farm, and his learning that Æschinus, having violated a free citizen, was about to be married to her, though she had no portion. Even his meeting Syrus