Curr Psychol
unlikely outcome would support the view that psychiatric diagnosis betrays
little about the patient but much about the environment in which an observer
finds him. (p. 251)
Actually, it is rarely taken as given that Plautus’ psychiatrist is not incom-
petent. Although the view was decisively refuted in a 1972 dissertation, the
character is regularly demeaned as a charlatan or quack in most modern critical
literature on Menaechmi. Kathleen Rankin (
1972
) has amply documented,
however, that the psychiatrist’s questions reveal him as a model of solid
Hippocratic learning, and thus that “he appears rather to be a normal and
ethical practitioner caught, like everyone else in the play, in the tangle of
mistaken identity” (p. 185). To assume otherwise is fatal to a proper under-
standing of the play, but the mischaracterization of Plautus’ doctor can be
traced to a common if ill-advised comparison with the sham doctor in
Menander’s Perikeiromene and (it seems) from a single question the doctor
puts to Menaechmus in vv. 915–8, the interpretation of which goes on to color
our interpretation of all his other questions (see note 7 below).
Like Rosenhan’s ward psychiatrists, Plautus’ ward psychiatrist in effect must
diagnose and treat a schizophrenic malingerer who has dropped all pretenses of
abnormality. Can he distinguish “sanity on the ward”? Or is it rather the case, as
Rosenhan asks (
1973a
):
Do the salient characteristics that lead to diagnoses reside in the patients
themselves or in the environments and contexts in which observers find them?
(p. 251)
Let us see Plautus’ answer to Rosenhan’s question. Recall that when the
psychiatrist arrives on the scene, he already “knows” his patient is insane.
Menaechmus has, as it were, already been “admitted” to his care. Now it is
the doctor’s task to diagnose the illness. He begins his examination at verse
910 (910–32, with omissions):
(
MENAECHMUS
has been shouting in frustration. Due to some animated
gesture—
shaking his fist in anger, raising his arms to heaven in despair, or
simply stretching—
the sleeve of his cloak has slipped down his arm)
PSYCHIATRIST
Hello, Menaechmus. Oh—you’ve bared your arm. Why? Don’t
you realize how dangerous that is for your illness?
5
MENAECHMUS
(
violently) Get out of here!
FATHER-IN-LAW
(
aside to
PSYCHIATRIST
) Do you notice anything?
PSYCHIATRIST
I certainly do!
6
PSYCHIATRIST
(aside) This condition can’t be relieved with an acre of hellebore.
5
According to Stok (
1996
), bare arms were medically associated with insomnia in antiquity (p. 2294).
6
Some editors reassign the lines and understand:
PSYCHIATRIST
(pinching
MENAECHMUS’
arm) Do you feel anything?
MENAECHMUS
Of course I do!
Curr Psychol
(to
MENAECHMUS
, again) Do you drink white or dark wine (album an atrum
vinum potas)?
7
MENAECHMUS
(bewildered) Oh, go to hell!
PSYCHIATRIST
(
aside) By Hercules, he’s already manifesting the onset of
insanity!
MENAECHMUS
Why not ask whether the bread I normally eat is scarlet or
crimson, or even pink? Whether I normally eat birds with scales or fish
with feathers—?
FATHER-IN-LAW
Good grief! Do you hear the delirium he’s spouting? What
are you waiting for? Give him a dose of something before he goes
completely insane!
PSYCHIATRIST
(
to
FATHER-IN-LAW
) Now, now, one moment! I will question
him still further….
(to
MENAECHMUS
) Tell me this: do your eyes ever normally get glazed
(duri)?
MENAECHMUS
What? Do you think I’m a lobster, you nincompoop?
PSYCHIATRIST
(
unfazed) Tell me: do you ever notice your bowels rumbling?
MENAECHMUS
Not when I’ve eaten well, they don’t; when I’m hungry, they
rumble.
PSYCHIATRIST
(to
FATHER-IN-LAW
) Well, well! There’s no indication of insanity in
that reply.
(to
MENAECHMUS
) Do you sleep entirely through the night? Do you fall asleep
readily on retiring?
7
With this much-misunderstood question the doctor is probing two points derived from Hippocratic
medical inquiry of the times:
(1) Explicitly he is inquiring about a sudden change in drinking habits. As Rankin (
1972
) has noticed,
Hippocratic teaching held that a sudden change in dietary habits could produce malign effects on the
body (p. 187). At the end of chapter 10 of On Regimen in Acute Diseases Hippocrates states, “White
and dark wines (leukos te kai melas oinos) are both strong, but if a person makes an unaccustomed
(para to ethos) switch to one from the other, they will alter many things in his body.” The repetition in
Menaechmus’ reply of soleam (= Greek to ethos), “normally,” indicates that the doctor is inquiring
whether Menaechmus customarily drinks “white” (Greek leukos ~ album) or “dark” wine (Greek
melas ~
atrum) (
HVA part 3 Kühn 15.626–30 =
CMG 5.91 Helmreich). Had he gotten a chance to ask
it, the doctor’s next question would have been, “Have you been drinking the other kind today?”
(2) Implicitly the doctor is afraid Menaechmus has been drinking dark wine, since according to Ps.-
Aristotle (
Problemata 30.1, 954a [cf. 953b]) it produces the same symptoms as does black bile in
melancholic individuals.
These observations decisively refute an older suggestion that the doctor’s questions relate to the
regularity of Menaechmus’ bowel movements (as cited in Gratwick
1993
, ad loc.).
Incidentally, color is not really the sole issue. In his commentary on Hippocrates’ passage Galen
(AD 129- c.200/c.216) points out that color implies taste, clarity or consistency (
systasis), odor, and
strength. For him, “dark” (melas) wine is usually muddy (pachys). Indeed we might well translate the
two adjectives as “clear” and “muddy” respectively. This ambiguity explains why Menaechmus finds
the question so bizarre. Latin album and atrum do mean “clear” and “muddy,” but very rarely—only
one attestation apiece, and both very late (Apicius 1.6 and Palladius 11.14.9 respectively). Moreover,
“dark” wine in Latin is usually nigrum, not atrum (Fantham
2007
,
2011
). Baffled, Menaechmus
naturally takes the two words to mean literally “white” and “black”—like Crayola colors as it were.
(Since the wordplay on melas works better in Greek than in Latin, I assume it derives thence and not,
as so often elsewhere, from the wellspring of Plautus’ imagination.)