The only sketch of literary history in the corpus. Marcus lays out four stages: tragedy → old comedy → middle → new. Nowhere else does he write the history of a genre. And he does not write it for its own sake: each stage is tested by a single question — what does it remind us of.

Tragedy as ὑπομνηστική. The first word said of it is παρήχθησαν ὑπομνηστικαὶ τῶν συμβαινόντων: "they were brought on as reminders of what befalls." Theatre is named not an art but a mnemonic. What it reminds us of is twofold: DOGMAταῦτα οὕτως πέφυκε γίνεσθαι ("it is the nature of these things to happen so") and the practical inference.

The move the passage rests on. οἷς ἐπὶ τῆς σκηνῆς ψυχαγωγεῖσθε, τούτοις μὴ ἄχθεσθε ἐπὶ τῆς μείζονος σκηνῆς — "by what you are enthralled on the stage, do not be weighed down on the larger stage." Ψυχαγωγέω is literally "to lead the soul away"; and it is precisely that captivation that becomes the argument: the same event gives pleasure seen in a theatre and torment lived through — so the event is not what does it. Note too the change of number: Marcus suddenly addresses a plural "you" (ψυχαγωγεῖσθε, ἄχθεσθε, ὁρᾶτε) — a rarity in notes written to himself.

Even those who cry out bear it. καὶ οἱ κεκραγότες· ʽἰὼ Κιθαιρών.ʼ — "and those who cry 'O Cithaeron!'" He takes the extreme case, the cry of Oedipus — and says of it not "they suffer" but φέρουσιν αὐτά, "they carry it." The argument does not deny the pain; it points to a fact: bearing it turned out to be possible.

Three verses, and what is done with them. The quotations are chosen as EXERCISEπρόχειρα: DOGMA"ἔχει λόγον καὶ τοῦτο" — "there is a reason in this too" (acceptance); "τοῖς πράγμασιν οὐχὶ θυμοῦσθαι" — not to rage at things; EXERCISE"βίον θερίζειν ὥστε κάρπιμον στάχυν" — life is reaped like a ripe ear. Marcus had already copied out all three in Book VII — but separately and in full; here they are drawn into one series and cut back to the first line. The loss is visible: 7.38 still has "for they care nothing for you," 7.40 "and one to be, another not." Book VII worked as a store of excerpts; Book XI spends them.

Comedy: a defence of coarseness. The old comedy receives three characterisations: παιδαγωγικὴ παρρησία ("schoolmasterly freedom of speech"), usefulness toward ἀτυφία — "unconceitedness," literally "smokelessness" — and the means: αὐτὴ ἡ εὐθυρρημοσύνη, plain speaking itself. Marcus justifies the coarseness of the Aristophanic stage by its effect: conceit is punctured not by argument but by blunt words. And then PERSONDiogenes: the Cynic took over exactly this from comedy (παρελάμβανε).

The reproach to the new comedy, and a question in place of a verdict. Of the middle and the new comedy Marcus passes no judgement but issues an assignment: ἐπίστησον — "fix your attention on this." A diagnosis is given all the same: ἐπὶ τὴν ἐκ μιμήσεως φιλοτεχνίαν ὑπερρύη — "it slid away into a love of craft for the sake of imitation." The fault is not immorality but technique become an end in itself. And the close is a question, not a conclusion: πρὸς τίνα ποτὲ TERMσκοπὸν ἀπέβλεψεν; — "at what mark was it ever looking?" The same test applied to another man's act at 10.37 is applied here to a whole genre. The governing discipline is assent, the sustaining one desire.