Some playwrights compose for the multitude and the common people (πρὸς τὸν ὄχλον καὶ τὸν δῆμον), and some for the few (τοῖς ὀλίγοις). To find one whose manner suited both factions is difficult. Aristophanes satisfies neither the many (τοῖς πολλοῖς) nor the intelligent (τοῖς ϕρονίμοις). His poetry is like a retired prostitute who pretends to be a married woman. Ordinary folk find its presumption (τὴν αὐθάδειαν) intolerable; those who pretend to taste (οἱ σεμνοί) are disgusted by the licentiousness and malice (τὸ ἀκόλαστον καὶ κακόηθες). But Menander, as well as having charm (χάριτες), never needs anything outside his own powers (αὐτάρκης). In the theatre, the lecture room (διατριβαί), the dinner party, his poetry provides reading, study, and entertainment for a wider public than that commanded by any other Greek masterpiece. He shows what the essence and nature of skill in the use of language (δεξιότης λόγου) really are, approaching every point with inescapable persuasiveness and having under control every resource of sound and meaning that Greek affords. What good reason has an educated man (ἄνδρα πεπαιδευμένον) for going to the theatre, except to see Menander?[…]