3.1.
mvp-aristotle-comment-6
3.7
THESE, AS WE SAID AT FIRST, ARE THE THREE DIFFERENCES OF IMITATION.
ARISTOTLE, having given examples of the different circumstances by which the varieties of imitations were diftinguished, proceeds now to shew that imitations, differing from each other in one of these circumstances, may be alike in another. It is remarkable that he gives no instance of this partial resemblance arifing from the means of imitation being the fame; which is the more to be regretted as fuch an inftance must have thrown more light on what is faid of the epopee in the first chapter, and shewn more particularly in what respect Homer's poems resembled the Mimes of Sophron and Xenarchus, the Dialogues of Socrates, and the Hippocentaur of Chæremon. CHAP.
4.1.
mvp-aristotle-comment-7
4.2
THOSE THINGS WHICH WE VIEW WITH PAIN IN THEMSELVES, WE LIKE TO SEE REPRESENTED AS ACCURATELY AS POSSIBLE; SUCH AS THE FIGURES OF THE MOST SAVAGE WILD BEASTS, AND OF DEAD BODIES.
I CANNOT agree here with Mr. Twining in the reason he gives for prefering with Vittorio ἀτιμοθάτων, to ἀγριοζάτων,–' the sense of the passage • itself:-which (he says) seems to require instances of mean and dif- • gusting rather than of terrible objects;' since a dead body with which it is joined certainly comes under the last circumstance, and was a usual exhibition in ancient tragedy. For we should recollect that Aristotle, though he draws the allufion from painting, must still be supposed to keep his eye on the subject he is treating of, poetic, and more especially, tragic imitation; which could never be confidered in any light as an amusement, if the terrible scenes which it produces did not come under the cafe of the illustration here brought from painting, pleasing as an imitation though disagreeable in reality; disagreeable, not from producing mean and difgusting objects, but from awakening too strongly the pafsions by affecting and terrible ones. The author of the Essay on the Sublime and Beautiful, justly observes, when danger or pain press too nearly they are incapable of giving any delight, and are simply terrible, but at certain distances, and
POETIC OF ARISTOTLE. ' and with certain modifications, they are delightful, as we every day experience [A]. It must, however, be confessed, that the following remark of the fame judicious critic, is strongly in favor of Mr. Twining and Vittorio. When the object represented in painting or poetry is such as we should • have no defire of seeing in reality, then I may be sure that its power * in poetry or painting is owing to the power of imitation, and to no 'cause operating in the thing itself. So it is with most of the pieces ' which the painters call still life. In these a cottage or a dunghill, the • meanest and most ordinary furniture of the kitchen are capable of giving us pleasure. But when the object of the painting or poem is • such as we should run to see if real, let it affect us with what odd fort ' of sense it will, we may rely upon it that the power of the poem or ، ، picture is more owing to the nature of the thing itself than to the mere effect of the imitation, or to a confideration of the skill of the imitator, however excellent [B].' In the letters of Mr. Jackson of Exeter, we find an observation something fimilar as to painting. ' A deep road, a puddle of water, a bank ' covered with docks and briars, and an old tree or two, are all the cir- ، * cumstances in many a fine landscape. As clowns and half-ftarved cattle are the figures a landscape-painter chuses for his pictures; fo rough-looking fellows, wrapped up in sheets and blankets, are chofen by the history painter to express the greatest personages, and in the ، [A] Part i, sect. vii. See also part iv. sect. vii. [B] Part i. sect. xvi. P ' most
• most dignified actions of their lives [c].' Nearly the same observa- ' tion is made by M. Marmontel [D]. From this circumstance in painting, however, I have often heard a false conclufion drawn; and because the various tints of autumnal decay afford a better subject to a painter than the luxuriant charms of summer, it is not uncommon to hear that season preferred as being really more beautiful. The poet knows better; for one poetical description of autumn, there are a thousand of spring (E). As well might a real [c] Letter VI. [D] See Encyclopedie, Art. Interêt. fituation [E] 'To the appearance of spring, the imagination joins that of the seasons which are to • follow; to the tender buds that are perceived by the eye, the imagination adds, flowers, • fruit, shades, and sometimes the mysteries they may conceal. It brings into one point of ⚫ view the scenes that are to fucceed, and sees things less as they are than as it wishes them to be. On the contrary, in autumn we can only contemplate the scene before us. If we › wish to anticipate the spring, our course is stopped by winter, and our frozen imagination • expires among snows, and fogs.' EMILIUS, Vol. I. 1. 1. • Yet in these presages rude, • 'Midst her pensive solitude, • Fancy with prophetic glance • Sees the teeming months advance; • The field, the forest, green, and gay, • The dappled flope, the tedded hay, • Sees the reddening orchard blow, • The harvest wave, the vintage flow: • Sees June unfold his gloffy robe • Of thousand hues o'er all the globe; • Sees Ceres grasp her crown of corn, And plenty load her ample horn.' WARTON. In
POETIC OF ARISTOTLE. situation of distress be preferred to tranquility, because it excites the feeling more in imitation. In regard to imitation as effected by the fine arts in general, I perfectly agree with Metaftafio, that to render an imitation pleasing, (especially of a terrible object, or of an object that does not of itself interest us,) it is necessary that the means of imitation should be apparent [F]. This appears in painting from the [G] greater excellence allowed to a good picture, compared with those representations of letters, newspapers and deal boards, which sometimes really deceive the eye; and in fculpture, from the great fuperiority of a fine statue, to a piece of colored wax work. Even in personal mimicry, it seems that the resemblance In painting we confine ourselves to the individual scene; in poetry we go more to cause and effect. For as Mr. Gilpin observes, the business of the poet is only to excite ideas, ⚫ that of the painter to represent them. The pencil fixes the scene in the happy moment; and ' the fading tints of autumn become perennial; but the idea excited by the poet connects the falling leaf and the disagreeable impression of decay with it, and anticipates the dreary scenes ' of winter.' [F] That which is called an imitation has always something in it that is not in the original. If the prototype and transcript be exactly alike; if there be nothing in the one which is not ' in the other, we may call the latter a representation, a copy, a draught, or a picture of the * former, but not an imitation. BEATTIE ON POETRY AND MUSIC, Part i. chap. v. p. 94. [G] Deception, which is so often recommended by writers on the theory of painting, ⚫ instead of advancing the art, is, in reality, carrying it back to its infant state. The first essays of painting were certainly nothing but mere imitations of individual objects, and • when this amounted to a deception the artist had accomplished his purpose.' NOTE BY SIR JOSHUA REYNOLDS ON MR. MASON'S TRANSLATION OF FRESNOΥ. P2 may
may be too striking, as in the story of the person who was hissed for not imitating the squeaking of a pig, so naturally as his competitor, though it proved to be the animal itself, which he had concealed under his coat. The fame circumstance will be found in theatrical imitation [H]. An actor who has really a defect, will never represent such a defect well on the stage. In Hill's Actor [1] there is a very just observation on this. • There are some characters in which a representation of old age is necessary, but even in these it is better that it should be a pre- • tended than a real age we fee. The stage is the scene of reprefenta- ، ، tion, not realities. Mr. Foote pleases more in Fondlewife than an old man possibly could: and the reason is evident: we wish to fee the representation of a ridiculous, not of a pitiable old fellow. We expect to be entertained with the follies of age, not disgusted with its in- • firmities. The poet can feparate these perfectly in the character that ' he draws; and when a person of real judgment is to represent it, he ، also can feparate all that is contemptible, from what is the object [к] [H] This does not apply to excellence, as human nature is always inadequate to our idea of poetical perfection. [1] Chap. x. page 166. [K] See Ariftotle's idea of comedy, at the beginning of chapter v.. In the Dictionnaire d'Anecdotes, Art. ACTEUR, the following story is told, on what founda tion I know not. The authority quoted is a book entitled l'Anné. Litteraire. ' An actor, • after having for thirty years played with success, in several parts, had the misfortune to lame • himself, and ever afterwards limped. In spite of this misfortune, as his paffion was for tragedy, ⚫ he concluded that from this accident he was the fittest person in the world to play Richard the Third, whom Shakespear, the author of the tragedy, had represented as lame. Our actor • flattered himself with the most brilliant success. He presented himself to the audience with • the greatest confidence. But when he came to repeat these words, " the dogs bark at me « as I halt by them," there was a general laugh, and he was obliged to quit the stage.' of
POETRY OF ARISTOTLE. ' of compaffion, and shew it singly.' I remember an instance of a French gentleman, who spoke English with the accent of his country, performing the Frenchman in Lethe, on a private theatre, with very indifferent effect. Irish and Scotch characters, it is true, are often well represented by persons of those countries, but such actors are all able to speak good English in other parts, and know how far to carry the imitation. I conceive a Scotchman, or an Irishman, whose conversation was always strongly marked by their respective dialects, would succeed no better than the French gentleman I have mentioned. To apply this to the illustration of Aristotle. Certainly the picture of a dead body will in general give no disgust, or excite no painful horror, however well executed: but a dead body might be so formed in wax-work, as absolutely for a moment to deceive the eye, and then, even if the deception were declared before its exhibition, I doubt if the spectator would receive any other pleasure than what might arise from the accuracy of the workmanship. But even in a picture, if circumstances in themselves really disgusting are added, horror will rather be excited than pleasure, as in the (L) print of a robber entering a vault to plunder it, and some engravings from Holben's celebrated picture of Death's Dance, which I have seen. The fame thing is incident also to poetry, as in a little poem on the death of a lady, which begins, ' In yonder grave my Helen lies.' The effect produced on the mind, by the different degrees of exactness in picturesque imitation, may perhaps be illustrated by the common [L] See Beattie on Poetry and Music, Part i. chap. vi. page 124, note. looking-
looking-glass, the plano-convex mirror on a black foil, and the camera obfcura. The looking-glass is the exact representation, or rather reflection of nature, without any apparent alteration in the objects, (for the reverfing them is not observed ;) and a landscape seen in it, however fine, only gives the fame pleasure as when seen through a window, except from the frame, which, if the glass is not too large, both from its artificial boundary, and confining the eye to a part of the view, will give the landscape something more of a picturesque character, than when the objects are seen without it. (M) The plano-convex mirror pleases more, as having more the appearance of an imitation produced by art, and objects in themselves infignificant and mean, acquire a beauty from this, and afford delight. But the camera-obfcura gives by far the greatest pleasure, as having every property of a picture, except that it possesses the superior advantage of expreffing motion, as well as color and figure. And I am inclined to imagine, that even an affecting or terrific object seen in it, would in some measure partake of that alleviation which Aristotle ascribes to artificial imitation. As painting imitates entirely by natural means, (I mean as opposed to symbols) it is able to imitate the most exactly of any art except colored statuary; but as its means of imitation are always apparent, the imitation can never be too exact to please, except in objects that are in themselves loathsome and disgusting. The fame may be faid of statues in stone or [M] I have not the least doubt of this being the cause why we fee fome scenes in the planoconvex mirror with greater pleasure than in nature. I am surprised it did not occur to Mr. Gilpin, who is sensible of the effect, but is at a loss to account for it. REMARKS ON FOREST SCENERY, Vol. II. p. 224. If he had shewn it to the first countryman he met, in all probability he would have solved the doubt at once, by telling him it looked like a picture. metal, ง
III POETIC OF ARISTOTLE. metal, where the material, the mean of imitation is, I think, yet more apparent; but in coloured statuary, or wax-work, where the imitation may for a short time be concealed, that pleasure is not produced, which is the proper refult of imitative art, and objects of pity and terror may be so accurately represented as to be really painful. The collection of figures in wax-work coloured, dressed, and fitting down at card tables, exhibited some years ago by Mrs. Wright, on first entrance gave exactly the idea of a well dressed assembly, and the impression remained after the illusion ceased. Nothing of this fort is produced by painting or statuary, and yet how different and superior to this surprise is the pleasure we receive from a portrait of Sir Joshua Reynolds, or a statue of Banks. As to music I am very ill qualified to treat it scientifically, therefore I hope the musical reader will forgive me if my language is deficient in technical accuracy, provided I make myself understood. But I conceive where it is an imitative art, it imitates sometimes by natural means, and sometimes by compact. Its natural means are the imitation of certain sounds, as the noise of a battle, the finging of birds, the ringing or tolling of bells. Its imitation by compact consists in expreffing forrow by flow movements, anger by quick; high and low, by high and low notes: most of these imitations are rather fanciful than real [N]. The chief energy of music, (to those I mean who, in the words of Shakespear, really have it in their fouls, and with the want of which, many who possess it so as to be tremblingly alive to its effects are upbraided, [N] See Beattie on Poetry and Music, Part 1. Chap. vi. Sect. 1, paffim. because
because they take no delight in the dexterity of a performer's execution of difficult passages ;) I say to those who really feel the energy of mufic, it chiefly arises from the power it possesses of raifing, heightening, or foftening the passions. Nevertheless the influence it derives from the combination of ideas is often mistaken both for imitation and sympathy [o]. Mr. Twining, who I believe is a very good musician, observes that the • best instrumental music,' (and I prefume vocal music where the words are not heard, or not understood, comes under the fame predicament 'expref- ، fively performed,) leaves the hearer to the free operation of his emotions on his fancy, and as it were to the free choice of fuch ideas as are to him ' most adapted to re-act upon and heighten the emotion which occafions ' them.' [P]. That is, in other words, that the effect of musical expreffion depends much on the temper of our own minds, at the time. Now that temper must be greatly influenced by any ideas that a particular strain may raise in us from circumstances that have formerly attended our hearing it [Q]. Will the grenadier march have the fame effect on a warrior [o] 'Such is the secret union when we feel A fong, a flower, a name at once restore • Those long-connected scenes where first they mov'd 'The attention.' AKENSIDE. [P] Differtation on music as an imitative art, page 49. For an application of this to the different kinds of verfification, as confidered particularly congenial with different kinds of poetry, see note Iv. chap. xxiv. [Q] 'There is in fouls a sympathy with sounds; And as the mind is pitch'd, the ear is pleased • With melting sounds or martial, brifk or grave. ، Some
POETIC OF ARISTOTLE. warrior whom it has led on to battle, and a man who was never at a review? But this is not peculiar to musical sounds. A nightingale fings very differently to the perfon who has only heard it in a cage in London, and the lover who has listened to its voice in the woods in the company of his mistress, or fighed to it in her abfence. The cry of a pack of fox hounds in a hollow cover, in which the sportsman hears the finest music, is the mere barking of dogs to the sober citizen. Neither is this fympathy confined to sound, it is equally active in the objects of the other senses. Roufseau says [R], 'I do not know whether to congratulate or pity the man of wisdom, but insensibility, whose bosom was never agi- • tated by the odour of the flowers that adorned the bosom of his • mistress.' From this association of ideas, however, music derives a power very much resembling imitation, and which has a very strong effect on the < Some chord in unison with what we hear ' Is touch'd within us, and the heart replies, • How foft the music of the evening bells < Falling at intervals upon the ear * In cadence sweet! Now dying all away, • Now pealing loud again, and louder still * Clear and fonorous as the gale comes on. * With easy force it opens all the cells Where memory flept; wherever I have heard • A kindred melody, the scene recurs, ' And with it all its pleasures.' COWPER. This kind of recollection resembles imitation in making pleasing objects afford additional pleasure, and in throwing some pleasure over melancholy objects, which last also will be equally destroyed in both if the sensation is too strong. [R] Emilius, Vol. 1. Part 1. paffions.
passions. The RANS DES VACHES, mentioned by Rousseau in his Dictionary of Mufic, though without any thing striking in the composition, has such a powerful influence over the Swiss, and impresses them with so violent a defire to return to their own country, that it is forbidden to be played in the Swiss regiments in the French service, on pain of death. There is also another circumftance relating to music, which makes it in some instances more than imitation. Certain musical instruments are from custom constantly attendant on certain actions, as the organ on religion, and the drum and fife on war and its preparations; therefore when these instruments are heard, our ideas are not raised by association only, but as far as the sense of hearing is concerned an actual deception takes place. If my other senses do not undeceive me when I hear a drum and fife play a march, I conclude soldiers are marching by; and if I hear a choir and an organ, I imagine myself in or near a place of religious worship. The absurd attempt to make the found an echo to the sense,' by mentioning the names of musical inftruments in language, and then accompanying that language with the found of the instruments that are named, is very justly censured by Mr. Jackson of Exeter [s]. There is a ridiculous instance of a musical pun of this kind in a fong of that agreeable compofer, Dibden, in the Padlock, where, while Don Diego is finging Horns! horns! I defy you,' he is accompanied by Frenchhorns. The effect of music when combined with poetry, is also principally eccafioned by association. The notion that the words of a fong and its [s] Preface to his Opera Iv. tune
POETIC OF ARISTOTLE. tune are particularly adapted to each other, often arises from constantly hearing them together. I will not dispute that some movements are more suited to one kind of poetry than another, or deny that an elegy and a drinking song require a different kind of music to accompany them; but undoubtedly the words of a song often stamp a character on the tune which of itself it would never have acquired. Since the popular fong of Hosier's Ghost was written, how many fea songs have been put to the same tune? Would not a person be induced to think from this, that it was particularly adapted to maritime ideas? Yet it was originally composed for a fong on a very different subject, which began 'Welcome, ' welcome, brother debtor.' I am far, however, from meaning to assert that music has not strong powers of exciting our feelings, independent of the subject or the words it accompanies, or any kind of association whatever, and that there is no real difference between a jig and a dirge. A particular instance, something applicable to this, occurs to me. Dr. Armstrong, in his SKETCHES, asks • Who was it that threw out those dreadful wild expressions of • distraction and melancholy in LADY CULROSS'S DREAM, an old composition now I am afraid loft, perhaps because it was almost too • terrible for the ear?' A modern collector of old ballads has however found the WORDS, and tells us he can perceive nothing terrible in them. The natural means of imitation poffefsed by poetry are few and weak, and are solely confined to the versification. Most of the verses quoted as proofs of its power in this respect, make more impression on the imagination than the ear. I am astonished how Mr. Harris [T] could give [T] Discourse on Music, Poetry and Painting, page 73. poetry
poetry the preference to music in its ability to imitate found. I should very much doubt, should the strongest instance of verfification conveying the fenfe by the found, be repeated to a person of however good an ear, who was unacquainted with the language, if he would discover the imitation: but should the music of those two airs of Handel, which begin Hush, ye pretty warbling choir,' and 'Let the merry bells ring ' round,' be played to a person of the most irreligious ears, and the imitation would be instantly obvious. But the powers of imitation by means of compact, which are poffefsed by poetry, are infinite; they are applicable to actions and pafiions, which they can follow through all their various forms and modifications; they can comprehend every being in nature or in art, animate or inanimate; and their nobler objects and extensive field of imitation more than compensate for any inferiority in the particular means [u]. But there is one species of poetical imitation, nearer to nature, and in every respect superior to those effected by any other art; I mean the modern drama well acted. In comedy, and the private life tragedy in profe, the representation is exact, it ceafes to be imitation, it is the thing itself, and therefore, to judge by my own feelings, (I can have no other criterion to judge those of others,) such representations of scenes of terror and deep distress are dreadful, they press too nearly on the mind, the deception is for the time compleat, the horror [v] of the scene is not foftened by the apparent means of imitation so as to be pleasing. I rife from feeing fuch tragedies as George Barnwell, the Fatal Curiosity and [u] See Gerard on Taste, Part 1.. Sect. IV. [v] Encyclopedie, Art. Illusion, by Marmontel. See Note v, Chap. vI.. the
POETIC OF ARISTOTLE. the Gamester, with nearly the same sensation as if I had been actually present at scenes of the fame kind in real life. In the higher tragedy, the blank verse, the [w] exalted perfonages, and the inadequacy of the theatrical [x] apparatus to the objects represented, fufficiently discover the means of imitation, and the most tragical catastrophe will not be always so affecting as to displease. I say not always, because there are, in my opinion, some cafes where the distress may be too forcibly worked up even in the higher tragedy, but this will be examined more at large when we come to confider Aristotle's idea of the proper effect of tragedy, and the most perfect construction of tragic fable [v]. It is however obvious that our theatrical language and apparatus is infinitely more natural than that of the Grecian stage. And perhaps it may admit a doubt, whether even Aristotle, if he had feen a Garrick in Lear, or a Siddons in Isabella, would have given the preference to the unhappy catastrophe, or afferted that a tragedy attained its end by reading as well as in representation [z]. W In [w] It is true, the Bishop of Worcester fays, 'Whatever be the unhappy incidents in the • story of private men, it is CERTAIN they must take faster hold of the imagination, and of < course impress the heart more forcibly when related of the higher characters in life.' Dis- SERTATION ON THE PROVINCES OF THE DRAMA, page 168; and this is corroborated by the quotation of the two concluding lines of the Hippolytus of Euripedes. I have the utmost deference for the opinion of fo elegant a critic and fo pathetic a poet, but the direct contrary is to me so CERTAIN from my own feelings and experience, that I cannot acquiefce in it. 'Amicus Plato, amicus Socrates, fed magis amica veritas.' [x] See note III. on Chap. XI, and note 1. on Chap. xxvI. (Y) See Note VII. Ch. XIII. [z] Chap. xxvI. The means of imitation are as much or more liable to err from being too defective, or too apparent, than from the oppofite quality; and this I take to have been the cafe with
[A] In comedy where the effect is chearful, the complete delufion rather encreases the pleasure; and even in the serious comedy the present anxiety is alleviated by the certainty of a happy catastrophe.
4.2.
mvp-aristotle-comment-8
4.9
MARGITES.
FROM the account given of this fictitious personage by Suidas, and Eustathius, he must have been an absolute ideot, and therefore an improper object of ridicule even in the grossest and lowest kind of farce. But the fragments of the poem itself, which are quoted by Aristotle, Eth. L. vI. ch. viii. and by Plato, Alcibiad. 11. especially the last, give the outline of a character that would not be unfit for modern comedy. [B] • Nor skill to dig or plow, the gods impart; • Unwife in all, he fail'd in every art.'- • Much had he learn'd but all had learn'd amiss.' The character of Mrs. Baynard, in Smollet's novel Humphrey Clinker, is fomething like the hint in the last line, 'She could read, and write, and with the ancient Greek tragedy. In the passage here referred to, it is probable that Ariftotle means to compare the tragedy when read, with the epopee, and not with the fame tragedy acted. [A] Encyclopedie, Art. Illufion. [Β] Τόνδ᾽ ἔτ᾿ ἀρ σκαπλῆρα θεοὶ θέσαν ἔτ᾿ ἀροθῆρα Ουτ᾿ ἄλλως τι σοφόν, πάσης δ᾽ ἡμάρτανε τέχνης- Πολλ᾽ ἠπίςαλο ἔργα κακῶς δὲ ἠπίςαλο πάνια. fing,
POETIC OF ARISTOTLE. 。 ، fing, and play on the harpsichord, and smatter French, and take a hand ' at whift, or ombre, but even these accomplishments she knew by halves, ' and excelled in nothing.* It must be remarked, that though Aristotle says the Margites was in iambics, all the fragments we have are hexameters. But Hephæstion and M. Victorinus, quoted by Mr. Winstanley in a note, both observe that the iambics were mixed with hexameters.
4.3.
mvp-aristotle-comment-9
4.10
AS HOMER THEREFORE WAS THE GREATEST POET ON SERIOUS SUBJECTS, STANDING ALONE IN POINT OF EXCELLENCE, NOT ONLY FROM THE GENERAL MERIT OF HIS IMITATIONS, BUT FROM THE DRAMATIC FORM HE GAVE THEM, SO HE ALSO FIRST TAUGHT THE PROPER SYSTEM OF COMEDY.
SO Lord Shaftesbury, 'He (Homer) paints so as to need no infcription over his figures, to tell what they are or what he intends by them; a few words let fall on any flight occafion from any of the parties he introduces, are fufficient to denote their manners and distinct character. From a finger or a toe he can represent to our thoughts, the frame and • fashion of a whole body. He wants no other help of art to personate ⚫ his heroes, and make them living. There was no more left for tragedy to do after him than to erect a stage, and draw his dialogues and characters into scenes, turning in the fame manner upon one principal • action, or event, with that regard to place, and time, which was suit- • able to a real spectacle. Even comedy itself was adjudged to this great ' master,
master, it being derived from those parodies or mock humours of which ' he had given the specimen (c) in a concealed fort of raillery, inter- ' mixed with the fublime.' ADVICE TO AN AUTHOR, Part 1. Sect. 111.
4.4.
mvp-aristotle-comment-10
4.18
OF ALL VERSE THE IAMBIC IS MOST CALCULATED FOR DISCOURSE.
THIS account of iambic verse, and its distinction from hexameter, is applicable to our rhymed and blank verse. All attempts to introduce rhyme into the drama, though aided by the melodious and flowing verfification of Dryden, have failed. For to use the expreffion of Ariftotle, nature herself had pointed out the proper measure. Dryden carried his predilection for rhyme so far as to make a tragedy in rhyme of Paradife Loft. Perhaps the best specimen we have of dramatic rhyme is in the dialogue of Henry and Emma. Prior is less scrupulous about confining his sense to the couplet than Pope, or even Dryden. Whether blank or rhymed verse is the best adapted to the epopee, will be enquired elsewhere [D]. But there is a difference between epic and dramatic blank verse, the latter afsuming a greater freedom of cadence, and the frequent use of one or two redundant syllables at the end of the line, of [c] Not only in his Margites, but even in his Iliad and Odyssey.' Euftathius observes, that Thersites in the Iliad, and Elpenor in the Odyssey, are kind of sketches of the character which he drew more at large in the Margites. [D] See Note Iv. Chap. xxiv. which
POETIC OF ARISTOTLE. which the opening of the Fair Penitent is a good example. In this, as in every other province of the drama, Shakespear is unrivalled. Mr. Mason, in his Memoirs of the Life and Writings of Whitehead, (fee page 59, et seq.) has given a good criticism on the excellence of dramatic language; and in his poems of Elfrida and Caractacus, a compleat model for imitation. R CHAP.
5.1.
mvp-aristotle-comment-11
5.1
RIDICULE IS PRODUCED BY ERRORS UNATTENDED BY DAN- GEROUS AND FATAL CONSEQUENCES; THUS DEFORMITY OF BODY IS RIDICULOUS, PROVIDED IT IS NOT OCCASIONED BY PAIN.
MISTAKES even in language, as blunders, and provincial and foreign dialects, are among the errors of this species, and are frequently used as a fource of the ridiculous in modern farce, and even comedy; ، So though I cannot agree with Lord Kaimes, as to the cause of this. ' quick-fighted' (he says) ' is pride in blemishes, and so willing to be ، ، gratified, that it takes up with the very flighteft improprieties; such as a blunder by a foreigner in speaking our language, especially if the blun- • der can bear a sense that reflects on the speaker.' ELEMENTS OF CRITICISM, Vol. 1. Ch. XII. As for deformity of body being an object of ridicule, it must be observed that Aristotle is here speaking of the old, or middle comedy, equivalent with our farce. Such as many of Foote's pieces were, who, like Ariftophanes, brought personal characters on the stage and marked them for public ridicule, not only by their habitual manners, but by bodily deformities, infirmities, and misfortunes; violating, without remorse, the latter part of the precept of the Stagirite. This liberty, or rather licentiousness of imitation, is justly reprobated by Churchill.
• Mimics draw humour out of nature's fault, • With perfonal defects their mirth adorn, • And hang misfortunes out to public fcorn.' This humane qualification, as to the objects of personal ridicule, is strictly observed by Shakespear. A very ingenious critic observes, • He has given him (Falstaff) every infirmity of body that is not likely to • awaken our compaffion, and which is most proper to render both his • better qualities and his vices ridiculous.' ESSAY ON THE DRAMA- TIC CHARACTER OF FALSTAFF, Page 149 [A]. The rule of not sporting with serious misfortunes should be equally observed in comic narration. Indeed it is pointed out by nature; for he must have a heart little sensible of the feelings of humanity, who can find any thing ludicrous in the real distresses and fufferings of others, with whatever ridiculous circumstances they may be related. It is wonderful, that a people who boast so much of their refinement as the French, and whose delicacy cannot bear the exhibition of spectacles of suffering on the tragic scene for the purpose of exciting pity and terror, should approve the narration of such facts, when introduced to occafion mirth. And yet not only Scarron and Rabelais, the last of whom has defcribed very minutely, a monk kicked to death by a vicious horse, as a laughable accident; but even the works of Le Sage, abound with instances of this kind. Savage as we have often been called by our politer neighbours, our comic writers are seldom guilty of this impropriety. We have, however, one flagrant instance of it in the works of an author of [A] See alfo Beattie on Laughter and Ludicrous Composition, Ch. iii. p. 431. R2 undoubted
undoubted comic excellence. I mean Arbuthnot's Journal of the fix days preceding the death of the Bishop of Salisbury.
5.2.
mvp-aristotle-comment-12
5.6
AMONG THE ATHENIANS, CRATES WAS THE FIRST WHO FORSOOK PERSONAL SATIRE, AND INTRODUCED A GENERAL SUBJECT OR FABLE.
FROM this passage it is obvious that every kind of comedy, in the time of Aristotle, was not like those of Ariftophanes, generally founded on personal ridicule; (B) and not only from this but from his obfervation in the eleventh chapter, that comic poets first form the fable, and - then add names correfpondent with the manners of the characters; and still more particularly from his assertion, that a double catastrophe, like the Odyssey, where virtue is rewarded and vice punished, is better calculated for [c] comedy than tragedy. From these remarks, and especially the laft, one would be induced to think, that comedy had affumed a higher character in the days of Aristotle than is usually ascribed to the old and middle comedy. The same idea has occurred to M. Leffing, who makes the following observation on it. • The Stagirite had feen the origin of • the new comedy, and he mentions it expreffly in his treatise on ethics, • addressed to Nicomachus, where he speaks of what is decent and what indecent in humourous converfation, "which (he says) may be illuf- " lustrated by the example of the old, and new comedy, of which the [B] Though many of the comedies of Ariftophanes are not entirely perfonal; as the Plutus, the Lyfiftrata, and the Ecclefiazuze. Yet they can hardly be faid to have a general fable. [c] See Note VIII. on Chap. XII. " humour
" humour of one confifts in gross expressions, but that of the other arifes " rather from ambiguous language [D]." It might indeed be objected, ⚫ that the middle comedy is here defigned under the name of the new comedy [E]; for before the new comedy arose the middle comedy ⚫ would neceffarily have that appellation. It might farther be added, ⚫ that Aristotle died in the fame olympiad in which Menander produced ' his first piece, and even in the year before. (Eufebius in Chronico ad • Olymp. C. XIV. 4.) But we are wrong in dating the new comedy ' from Menander only; he was the first poet of that age of comedy as ' to poetical excellence, but not as to time. Philemon, who belonged ' to it, wrote some time before, and the tranfition from the middle to the new comedy, was so imperceptible, that it is impoffible Ariftotle could * have wanted models.' DRAMATURGIE, VOL. II, PAGE 173 NOTE. Mr. Cumberland in his account of the Greek comic theatre, for which the republic of letters is much indebted to him, obferves of Philemon, * that he was fome, years elder than Menander, and no unworthy rival of 'that poet.' (Observer, No. 138.) From the fragments of the middle comedy, frequently quoted in the fame work, it appears, that fo far from being devoted to indecency and buffoonry, that species of the drama abounded in passages inculcating the noblest precepts of morality. But the deduction of Mr. Cumberland from this (F), that Aristotle has not given a just character of comedy as it stood in his time, by saying it is ، [D] Ἰδοι δ᾽ ἂν τις κὰι ἐκ τῶν κωμωδιῶν τῶν παλαιών και τῶν καινῶν. Τοῖς μὲν γὰρ ἐν γελοῖον ἡ ἀισχρολογία, τοις δὲ μᾶλλον ἡ ὑπόνοια. ΕTHIC. L. IV. CAP. XIV. [E] The name appears of little consequence as the difference is so strongly marked in the quotation. [F] OBSERVER, No. 72. • a picture
، a picture of human nature worse and more deformed than the original, feems to arife from a mistake as to the idea intended to be conveyed by the word WORSE, confidered in a poetical light. As Aristotle does not require the persons of tragedy to be better in a moral view, but only in the sense explained in note 1. on chap. 11. so the characters in comedy, on which its poetical diftinction depends, are not, according to the obfervation at the beginning of this chapter, to be worse than those of the prefent time, as to depravity in general, but only to be more uniformly charged with those qualities calculated to excite laughter than is usually, or indeed ever met with in real life. That Achilles never faid an abfurd thing, or Thersites never acted wifely, or feriously, is out of common probability; but the poet who introduces these persons, or characters refembling them, on the tragic, or comic scene, would fruftrate his own purpose if he shewed an instance of ridiculous absurdity in Achilles, or serious reafoning in Thersites; and in this sense, one is drawn better, and the other worse than human nature in general (G). I believe this rule is observed by every tolerable dramatic poet, without any notion of acting according to the precepts of the Stagirite. But though this is the general diftinction of the two provinces of the drama, it does not follow but there may be some characters in comedy not deftitute of tragic dignity, as there were evidently parts of the Greek tragedy which had not only a comic but even a burlesque cast. Shakespear has not only blended tragédy and comedy in the fame piece, but he often introduces a stroke of humour in a grave, though never I believe in a pathetic scene; and a trait of dignity in a ridiculous scene. But he always preserves the propriety of character. In the field at Shrewsbury, when Worcester and Vernon come to the king's camp just before the battle, he introduces a ridiculous farcafm on Worcester's excusing his rebellion as involuntary, but he puts [G] See Note 1, Chap. xv. it
it in the mouth of Falstaff [H]. And in the tavern at Eastcheap the Prince of Wales recollects the impropriety of his conduct, at so critical a period, and [1] blames himself with great spirit and dignity; but no such reflection is uttered by any other of the party. Yet though Shakespear has avoided this confufion of character, it would be the abfurdest partiality to deny, that the mixing the ferious and the comic, in one piece, tends to destroy the efficacy of both, and is therefore a fault. That the neceffity of committing this fault was imposed on him by the taste of the public, is apparent, from the practice of all the cotemporary writers, and if he has contrived to do it with less impropriety than others, it furely is no small degree of merit. However faulty the practice of the age of Shakespear may have been in this respect, it was referved for the next, though proud of their encreasing refinement, to produce that monster of the drama, the regular tragi-comedy; where two distinct fables, the one distressful, the other ridiculous, were carried on together; not only violating the unity of action, but making so abfurd a mixture of forrow and mirth, that as Addison observes, a poet might as well think of weaving the adventures [H] Rebellion lay in his way and he found it.' Ist Part HEN. IV. Act v. Sc. r. See Note VII, Ch. xi. [1] By heaven, Poins, I feel me much to blame, • So idly to profane the precious time, • When tempeft of commotion like the North, Borne with black vapour, doth begin to melt And drop upon our bare unarmed heads. • Give me my sword and cloak.'.
Ild Part HEN. IV. Act II. SC. IV. of
of Æneas and [K] Hudibras into one poem. This comic under-plot, was not confined to the plays of Dryden which end happily, as the Spanish Friar, Love Triumphant, and Marriage Alamode; but it also mixed with the deep pathos of the Fatal Marriage, Venice Preferved, and Oroonoko. The error of Shakespear is like that of Homer, in introducing Thersites in a serious poem, but the tragi-comedy resembles the Iliad and Margites, mixed together. The following observation of Lord Kaims, in his Sketches of the Hiftory [L] of man, having fome relation to this subject, I shall cite it with a short remark. Nothing is more evident than the fuperiority of Terence • above Plautus in the art of writing; and confidering that Terence is a • later writer, nothing would appear more natural, if they did not copy • the fame originals. It may be owing to genius that Terence excelled • in purity of language, and propriety of dialogue; but how account for • his fuperiority over Plautus in the construction and conduct of a play? • It will not certainly be thought that Plautus would imitate the worst ، • constructed plays, leaving the best to those who should come after ⚫ him. This difficulty has not occurred to any of the commentators, fo ' far as I can recollect. Had the works of Menander and his cotemporaries been preserved, they probably would have explained the mystery; ' which for want of that light will probably remain a mystery for ever." I own I can perceive no mystery at all in this. It did not depend on the taste of Plautus, or Terence, but on the taste of the Roman people when they wrote. Plautus compofed for the public at large, who were best [K] Imoinda and the Widow Lackit, Jaffier and Antonio, are more discordant characters, both in manners and action, than Æneas and Hudibras.. [L] Book 1. Sketch v. Sect. 2. pleased کو
pleased with the broader humour of the earlier Greek comedy. Terence wrote at a later period and under the patronage of Scipio, and the [M] mild Lælius, whose more refined taste preferred the infipid elegance of Menander. Shakespear was guilty of the fame error in judgement, if it was one. It appears from the account of those claffic writers which were tranflated in his time, that the Menæchmi of Plautus, and the Andrian of Terence, were both before him, and we know which he chose for a model. As for the superiority of Terence over Plautus in any refpect except beauty of language, it remains to be proved, and perhaps is no more capable of proof, than the superior excellence of the modern fentimental comedy to those less regular dramas, Twelfth Night and As You Like It. Were the plays of the two Roman comic poets to be clothed in an English dress, and performed before an English audience, near the close of the eighteenth century, by no means surely an age or a country of barbarifm, I have little doubt of the judgement being in favor of the elder poet. To return more particularly to the difficulty suggested by Lord Kaims. It must be remembered that the poems of Homer were equally open to Ennius and Lucretius, as to Virgil; and yet the last is the first Roman poet who imitated, I had almost said translated, the works of the father of poetry. Of the comedies of Menander we can only judge through the medium of Terence, whose dramas, to me, have neither humour nor intereft, nor indeed any other merit than their style, which,' (to use words applied, perhaps with rather too much severity to Virgil, by a very ingenious though eccentric writer) ' is pure and exquisite, and is the pickle that has preserved his mummy from corruption [N].' [M] Mitis fapientia Lælî." [N] HERON'S LETTERS OF LITERATURE. HOR. S NOTE
5.3.
mvp-aristotle-comment-13
5.8
TRAGEDY ENDEAVOURS AS MUCH AS POSSIBLE TO CONFINE ITSELF TO ONE REVOLUTION OF THE SUN, OR ONLY TO EXCEED IT A LITTLE.
FROM this plain direction, the critics of the French school, and especially Dacier, have deduced that the action should not exceed the exact time of reprefentation, and have found out that one [o] period or revolution of the fun comprises twelve hours, which would be, at least, four times that length. That people urged by superstition, or worfe motives, should wish to give the most absurd and contradictory sense to plain and obvious passages in writings of sacred authority, to support their own systems, when we consider the force of enthusiafm and ambition, is more to be lamented than wondered at. But such a strange perverfion of common sense, to justify a dramatic prejudice, is at once an object of furprize and ridicule. If the practice of the Greek tragedy had been always in strict conformity with this rule of the French critics, there would have been some shadow of reason for their trying to accommodate. this precept of Aristotle to the custom of the ancient stage; but on the contrary, the [P] Greek tragedians often afsume a greater latitude than [ο] Μίαν περίοδον ἠλίς.. See note II, chap. vii. for some further observations on Ariftotle's definition of the unity of time.. [P] For examples of the violation of the unities of time and place, (Ariftotle says nothing of the laft) by the Greek dramatic poets, the curious reader is referred to METASTASIO'S ES- TRATTO DELLA POETICA D'ARISTOTLE. See also ELEMENTS OF CRITICISM, Chap. xxiii.. paffim. the
POETIC OF ARISTOTLE. ! the rule laid down by Aristotle, or even the nature of the thing itself will justify.
The words of Dacier, on the supposed invariable adherence of the ancients to this strict unity of time, are these. They have made it fo • indispensible a law, that to avoid violating it they have fometimes done violence to the incidents.' Which Mr. Twining observes is in fact saying, that they have so scrupulously adhered to the rule, that ' sometimes, for the fake of observing it, they have been obliged to • break it.' But they have done much more, there is a unity of time marked by nature, the breach of which destroys the probability of every fictitious tale whatever, either narrative or dramatic. I may conceive days, and months, and years, to have passed during an interval in a representation, which I know to be a representation, and not a reality; but every shadow of probability vanishes, and we are instantly disgusted, either, when without any interruption of the action during a dialogue of fix minutes, fix hours are supposed to have elapsed, or, (which is nearly the fame thing,) when the space of time occupied by the drama is exactly defined, and then incidents are crouded into it which could not poflibly have happened in that space [Q]. [Q] This absurdity is well described by M. Lessing. < Do not you admire the conduct of • the piece? it is in general fo complicated that it would be a miracle if so many things had • happened in so short a time. The ruin or preservation of an empire, the marriage of a prin- * cess, the deftruction of a prince, all this is executed in the twinkling of an eye. The affair ⚫ is opened in the first act, it is connected and strengthened in the second, every measure is ▲ taken, every obstacle removed, and the conspirators arranged in the third, then follows a re- ⚫ volt, a fight, perhaps a pitched battle, and this you call conduct, intereft, fire, and probability.' DRAMATURGIE, Vol. i. p. 139. S2 In
In the ancient drama, where the action was never interrupted, and the stage continually occupied by the chorus, I must think that probability is really in fome measure violated when the supposed time of action is at all extended beyond the actual time of representation. Of this the suppliants of Euripides afford us a striking instance. Theseus marches from Athens to Thebes, gains a complete victory, and a messenger returns to give an account of the battle, during a short lyric dialogue between his mother Æthra and the Chorus. I appeal to any unprejudiced judge if the conduct of Shakespear, who most likely would have transported us to Thebes, and made us spectators of the battle, has any thing so really contrary to probability as this, or if any thing can be more unreasonable than the rules of those critics, who, because Aristotle allowed the period of twenty-four hours, or a little longer, to a drama without intervals, would, on that very authority, confine a drama with intervals to three hours [s]. [s] Le Pere Brumoy, though a staunch advocate for the doctrine of the French school as to the rigid observance of the unity of time, has this mitigating sentence, ' As the resemblance be-- • tween the drama and nature cannot be always so exact as not to admit fome difference in favor of the beauties of art, even art, to avail itself of these beauties, may deceive the spectator, ⚫ and reprefent an action whose duration comprehends eight or ten hours, although the drama • employs only two or three.' Now though the Pere Brumoy mentions particular periods of time in which the dramatic fable, on certain great occafions, may exceed the dramatic representation, as we cannot suppose he mentions eight or ten hours in contradistinction to nine and eleven, his meaning must be, that this rule may be broken when the observation of it ceases to be necessary, and that truth and general probability are the only proper judges of this law, fince, as Horace allows, • Utor permiffo, caudæque pilos ut equinæ • Paulatim vello, et demo unum, demo etiam unum. But
POETIC OF ARISTOTLE. But though the modern drama, from the breaks in the representation, by the division of acts and change of scene, has not its duration marked out by the nature of its composition, yet if the period of time is defined by any circumstance whatever, and events are supposed to happen in that period, which it is either physically or morally impoffible could have happened, the error is against truth and nature, and not only against the arbitrary or the reasonable laws of the drama; and, it must be confefsed, we sometimes find our own inimitable dramatic Bard erring in this respect. The tragedy of King Lear will furnish an inftance of this kind of error. In the second act, Lear comes in, with all his train, to Regan at Glocester's castle, having been recently affronted by Goneril. From the circumstance of the storm continuing, it is obvious that the interval between the second and third act, does not comprehend a period of time, much exceeding that which really passes, and the eyes of Glocefter are put out on the fame night, just as he had relieved the old king on the heath; yet in this time we hear, there is part of a power already footed ، ، to revenge the injuries the king now bears;' and Cornwall says, 'the army of France is now landed.' This rule of natural unity is equally essential to the drama, the epopee, the fable, and the tale; it has nothing to do with the most striking flights of improbability. If a writer puts his hero on a magic courser that can Put a girdle round about the earth • In forty minutes,' it is no offence against this rule; but it would be a great one to make an army march from London to Edinburgh in one night. I have fomewhere met with an observation, that the time of the representation and the fable, in the tragedy of Cato, might have been made exactly
exactly equal, and the strictest rule of dramatic unity observed, had not Addison chofen, wantonly, to violate it by opening the play with a description of the morning; and making Juba say of Cæfar's army, in the last act, • The setting fun Plays on their shining arms and burnish'd helmets.' Addison certainly was not obliged to mark the time in this manner; but whether he had or not, it must have been impoffible to conceive the business of the play could have been transacted in a shorter time, than between sun-rife and fun-set, in the longest day, at Utica. Of the unity of place, it has already been observed, Aristotle says nothing. However, it is strongly connected with the unity of time, and depends on it: 'I mean the natural unities; not that artificial rule of never altering the supposed spot of representation [T), because the Greek theatre never changed its scenes, which is about as reasonable as it would be not to wear shirts because the ancients had no linen. During the continuance of the action, or when the exact time is otherwise defined, no greater change of place can be supposed, than what might probably happen in fuch a period [u]. But it may possibly be asked, though the Muse of Shakespear has ventured to pass the bounds of time and space,' and therefore a change of scene is neceffary for the reprefentation of his dramas; yet as no [T] See note r, chap. xvii. [U] For a further illustration of this, see the application of the unities to the epopee, note 11, chap. xxiv. See also Philological Enquiries, page 218. modern
POETIC OF ARISTOTLE. modern poet ventures to extend his length of time beyond the period prescribed by Ariftotle, why may not the strict unity of place be observed on the English stage, as well as on the French stage? Perhaps it might be a fufficient anfwer to this, to say, the [v] taste of the English demands this change of scenes, but I will not rest my defence of the practice of our stage on this, or on the fuperiority of the theatrical decoration from a variety of well painted [w] scenes, but from the fuperior probability of the play, and the removal of one great and unfurmountable, or, at least, as yet unfurmounted difficulty attending the strict observance of the unity of place, the bringing in and sending out the characters with propriety. And I chuse to do this, in the words of a writer, who cannot be influenced by national prejudices, in favour of either the French or English theatre [x]. • To confefs the truth, the English, [v] Of the taste of the English in this refpect, the following anecdote is a ftriking proof. • In the play of Phædra and Hippolytus, the author has observed the unity of place so well, ⚫ that all the scenes are exhibited in one spot, in an outer court of the palace. Mr. Garrick • faw this; he had a good scene prepared, and it stood the whole time of the play. The ma- ، nager was right; critics will say, the author was right, but the audience were disgufted." HILL'S Actor, page 255. However much the manager might think himself in the right, he found it prudent, on a subsequent occafion, to change his conduct. Mr. Whitehead, in his SCHOOL FOR LOVERS, observed the strict unity of place, and the whole action passes in a garden; but Mr. Garrick introduced a change of fcene in the representation, and he concludes his prologue to the comedy, after some humorous obfervations on the taste of the audience and the perfeverance of the poet, with these lines: • Still he persists-and let him-ENTRE NOUS • I know your tastes, and will indulge them too. • Change you shall have; so set your hearts at ease; WRITE AS HE will, we'll ACT it as you please.. [w] See note v, chap. vi. [x] Schlegel, a German dramatic poet, cited by M. Lessing in his Dramaturgie, vol. i. p. 215. who
• who do not pride themselves in observing the unity of place, obferve • it for the most part better than the French, who boast so much of • their strict adherence to the rules of Aristotle. It little imports, that • the decoration of the scene does not change, but it is of confequence ⚫ that the reason should be obvious why the perfons who enter should • find themselves exactly in that given spot, instead of remaining where they were. When a character behaves as the inhabitant and master • of an apartment, where, just before, another has been affuming the • fame appearance of authority, and talking with the greatest confiden- • tial freedom to his friend, without its being brought about by any ، probable means; in short, when the characters come into the room, or the garden, merely to appear on the stage, the author of the tragedy would do better, instead of writing, "the scene is in the chamber " of Climene," to say, "the scene is in the theatre." Or, to ، speak serioufly, it certainly would be more reasonable, if the author, according to the English custom, had changed the scene from one • house to another, and conducted the spectator to the hero, instead of obliging the hero to appear in a place where he has nothing at all to • do, for the purpose of amufing the spectator.' The false reasoning of the French critics, and their followers in this country, has arifen from the mistaken notion that dramatic imitation ever was, or ever could be a real deception. We are affected by the general probability of the incidents arranged by the poet, in such a manner as to render the impression of those he intends should work on the paffions, most forcible, by foftening, or fuppreffing, every circumstance which might at all interfere with the passions he wishes to excite; and this, when accompanied by the recitation and action of a good player, must have the strongest effect on the spectator; but as to real deception,
POETIC OF ARISTOTLE. deception, in the most empassioned scene of Lear, acted by Garrick, it never for an instant existed. The means of imitation were always apparent, or, to speak in the language of a late commentator, • It is false ' that any representation is mistaken for reality; that any dramatic fable, ⚫ in its materiality, was ever credible, or, for a fingle moment, was ever ' credited [B].' [B] Dr. Johnson's preface to Shakespear. T CHAP.
6.1.
mvp-aristotle-comment-14
6.1
TRAGEDY IS AN IMITATION, IN ORNAMENTED LANGUAGE, OF AN ACTION IMPORTANT AND COMPLETE, AND POSSESSING A CERTAIN DEGREE OF MAGNITUDE, HAVING ITS FORMS DIS- TINCT IN THEIR RESPECTIVE PARTS, AND BY THE REPRE- SENTATION OF PERSONS ACTING, AND NOT BY NARRATION, EFFECTING THROUGH THE MEANS OF PITY AND TERROR, THE PURGATION OF SUCH PASSIONS.
VARIOUS and contradictory have been the explanations given by different commentators of this celebrated definition of tragedy; and yet the grand object it proposes to have in view, the purgation of the paffions by the means of pity and terror, and how those means operate to attain that end, or whether, in fact, they have any fuch operation at all, has received little elucidation from their combined enquiries. To entertain any hope of success where so many persons of the highest literary reputation have failed, would be a great degree of presumption. I shall therefore only state, with all the diffidence due where so little is certainty, and fo much conjecture, what appears to me, from all that can be collected on the fubject, the real notion of Aristotle as to the means and the effect of purging the paffions; and enquire how far that notion is founded in nature and confirmed by experience; allowing for the lapfe of time, and the consequent alteration of manners and opinions. Any
POETIC OF ARISTOTLE. Any obscurity in an author, especially if it relates to his particular judgment on any general subject [A], will be most likely to receive light from comparifon with his other works, of which our critic has left us an ample store. Indeed, these have been so long, and so univerfally, the objects of scholaftic disquisition, that one should have imagined every correfpondent, and every discordant passage, would have long fince been collated and examined. But as M. Leffing (who strongly [в] recommends this method of illustration,) observes, their pursuits were very different from the investigation of elegant literature. Those writings of the Stagirite which, at the present time, are the principal subjects of enquiry, and especially the Poetic, had little to engage the attention of men devoted to the study of logic and metaphyfics: and, perhaps, there are few of those whose turn of mind induces them to make the treatise before us the particular object of their attention, who would have the patience and perfeverance, to go through the various and voluminous works of Aristotle, which treat of matters so foreign to their taste. There is one treatife, however, on a congenial fubject, (the Rhetoric) which throws light on the imperfect and mutilated state of the Poetic in a hundred instances. But the present subject of our enquiry receives most elucidation from a work where we should less expect to find it. The philofopher [c], in his treatise on government, speaking of the power of music to foften and alleviate the passions, says; • Whatever paffions have a strong effect [A] In regard to verbal obfcurity, this will often be fallacious. Ariftotle has frequently employed the same word in different senses, even in this short sketch. SEE NOTE III. ch. 1. [B] DRAMATURGIE, Vol II. p. 11. [C] POLITIC, 1. vii. chap. vii. T2 ، on
، on any minds, will have some effect on all, and they will only differ in degree. Such passions, for example, as pity and terror, to which we may add enthusiasm, an affection of the mind with which fome men are violently possessed. Now we fee this last, when those sacred • melodies which accompany the celebration of the mystic rights are ،
، performed, is foothed and quieted, as if it were by medicine or purgation; and the fame thing will happen to those who are liable to the impreffions of pity or terror, or whose passions in general are eafily excited, and others indeed as far as they may be under the influence of • fuch paffions. They will all feel a kind of purgation, or unburthening of the mind, accompanied by fome degree of pleasure.' Ariftotle is treating here only of the purgation of the passions, as effected by mufic, and [D] which he professes to explain in a flight and superficial manner, with a promise to be more explicit in his writings on poetry: if this promise has ever been fulfilled, it is generally supposed it must have been in some of those parts of his criticism on poetry which are loft. But [E] M. Leffing is of opinion, that it is compleatly fulfilled in the Poetic, as we now have it. If this is the cafe, I have [D] Τὶ δὲ λέγομεν τὴν κάθαρσιν, νῦν μὲν ΑΠΛΩΣ, πάλιν δ᾽ ἐν τοις περὶ ΠΟΙΗΤΙΚΗΣ ἐροῦμεν ΣΑΦΕΣΤΕΡΟΝ. [E] 'Aristotle, at the conclufion of his Treatise on Government, where he speaks of the < purgation of the passions by mufic, promises to treat of this purgation with more perfpicuity in his Poetic. "But (Corneille says,) fince we fee nothing at all of this matter there, most of the " interpreters think that we have it not complete." Nothing at all? For my part I think that I find, even in what remains of the Poetic, every thing that he could confider, as ne- ⚫ ceffary to say on the fubject to any one who was not ignorant of the principles of his philo- ' fophy.' DRAMATURGIE, Vol. II. p. 28. only
POETIC OF ARISTOTLE. only to lament my own ill fortune in not finding it; or my stupidity in not comprehending it. The above quotation, from the Treatise on Government, however, if it does not itself receive much illustration from this, or any other part of the Poetic now extant, seems to throw fome light on the paffage under confideration, and affords some clue for the discovery of what Aristotle means by purging the passions. His example of the enthusiast having his mind relieved by sounds congenial, though in a milder degree, with his own more violent feelings, leads us to fuppofe, that he conceives the exceffive, habitual effects of pity and terror, and other paffions of the fame kind [F], may also be alleviated by exciting them in a more moderate degree, through the apparently fictitious means of dramatic imitation. Mr. Harris [G], perhaps, carries the efficacy of tragic imitation a little too far, when he supposes it capable of blunting the feelings, by frequent representation of scenes of terror and distress, in the way the realities act on military men, physicians, and furgeons. Yet, however, much allowance must be made for the difference of manners, and habits. The drama might have had an effect on the people of Athens, who made an attendance on the theatre almost the business of their lives, [F] Ariftotle confines this effect to pity and terror, and affections of the fame kind (among which he includes enthusiasm,) in express words, using τῶν τοιέτων, in both places. Such paffions as love and anger, are enflamed instead of foftened by the fame means. [G] Difcourse on Music, Poetry, and Painting, chap. v. note c. which
which we can have no idea of. We know (says M. Leffing [H]) to • what a degree the Greeks and Romans carried their passion for public ، spectacles, and the first more especially for tragedy; and, on the contrary, how indifferent and cold our people are in regard to the theatre. • Whence arifes this difference, if not from the Greeks finding them- ، selves affected with such strong and extraordinary [1] feelings, during • the representation, that they waited with transport the moment of their return? On the contrary, the impressions we receive at the • theatre are so trivial, and so weak, that we scarcely esteem them worth ⚫ the time and expence it costs to procure them. We almost all, and • almost always go, either from curiosity, or because it is the fashion, or • for want of fomething else to do, or for the fake of company, or to • fee and be seen; very few go with other views, and those but feldom.' [H] Though M. Lessing speaks of the Germans, it is full as applicable to the people of this country. Indeed, he himself adds, 'I say WE, OUR PEOPLE, OUR THEATRE, but I do not ' mean to be understood as speaking only of the Germans. For we freely acknowledge that as yet we have no theatre.. [1] This must have arisen from the sensibility of the people, rather than the superior effect of the drama. The fatire of M. Leffing is directed against the infipidity of the French tragedy; for he puts the Greek and English stage together, and classes Shakespear with Euripides and Sophocles: and yet it is impossible for any people to be less interested in the amufements of the theatre than we are. The truth feems to be, that the conftant attendance of the Athenian people on the theatre, arose from the splendor of the exhibition, and its being at the public charge; and that the fuperior effect of the representation on their minds, was the confequence, not the cause, of their strong attachment to tragic imitation. The Romans were, as M. Leffing allows, equally attached to spectacles, though of another kind; and yet they have never been particularly characterized for strong and extraordinary feelings; nor were their favourite exhibitions calculated to excite them.
POETIC OF ARISTOTLE. ! i It remains now to enquire how far our paffions are really blunted or softened, by being excited in a fainter degree, through the fictions of tragedy. Or whether, on the contrary, they are not, at least sometimes, rather heightened and enflamed by them. Indeed, this was a point at issue in the time of Aristotle, and had, before him, been decided contrary to his opinion, by Plato, who banished poets from his republic on this account. His expreffion on this head I shall give in the words of M. Twining's tranflation, together with his observation on it [k]. "The habit of indulging our paffions, in the concerns of others, will, " of neceffity, bring on the same habitual indulgence in those which " relate to ourselves: for he who has nourished and strengthened to "excess, the passion of pity for example, by habitual sympathy with "the misfortunes of others, will not find it easy to restrain the same "kind of feelings in his own." • To this objection there cannot be a more direct and pointed answer than Aristotle's affertion, as usually • understood, that the habit of indulging the emotions of pity or terror, in the fictitious representations of tragedy, tends, on the contrary, to moderate and refine those passions when they occur in real life.' TWINING'S NOTES ON ARISTOTLE, note 45, p. 240. That this doctrine of Aristotle is intended as an anfwer to the objection of Plato, is confirmed, if any confirmation were necessary, by its being first started in his own treatise on a republic. It may feem great arrogance even to attempt to decide, when such doctors as Plato and Ariftotle disagree. But as they are both defending [κ] ᾿Απολαύειν ἀνάγκη ἀπὸ τῶν ἀλλοτρίων ἐις τὰ ὀικῖια· Θρέψαντα γὰρ ἐν ἐκείνοις ἰσχυρὸν τὸ ἐλεεινὸν, ὀυ ρἅδιον ἐν τοις άντε πάθεσι κατέχειν. Plato de Rep. 1. x. Ed. Seran. 1602. p. 756. В. a favorite
a favorite hypothefis, they may possibly each be partly right, and partly wrong. Much must depend on the different feelings of individuals, as well as of nations, these depending on habits of mind and body, profeffion, or education, and those on the form of government, and degree of civilization, and refinement. The foldier will be affected differently from the mechanic, the polished from the rude, the indolent from the active. And the inhabitant of London, or Paris, will certainly have different sensations of pity and terror, from the inhabitant of the desarts of Arabia, or the woods of America. When the objects of pity or terror, whether real or imaginary, press so strongly on our fenfations as to exclude any fentiment of pleasure, they will, in my opinion, have rather a tendency to increase than diminish the natural force of those paffions, and this will often depend on the firmness of the mind, or the ductility of the imagination. But when the excitement of these passions is accompanied by any degree [L] of pleasure, however flight, the mind will acquire gradual strength to bear stronger representations by habitual exercise, till at length, as pofsibly was the cafe with the people of Athens, the sensations might attain such a state as to require encreasing force of terror and distress, to awaken the sensibility so as to cause that agitation, which is the fource [L] Hume, in one of his effays, observes, that the pleasure of being out of danger, and near it, (which he exemplifies by standing on the edge of a precipice, so as to be perfectly safe) is a species of terror so modified as to be perfectly pleasing. Now to a seaman, or a mountaineer, this would convey no idea at all of terror; and I know a person who would feel a greater dread from it, than if exposed to the most imminent danger in any other form whatever, and which, confequently, could not be attended with the flightest semblance. of pleasure. of
POETIC OF ARISTOTLE. of the delight we receive from tragic imitation. And in this situation the mind may be something deadened to the fame impreffions, though occafioned by circumstances in real life. As we can only judge of the opinion of Aristotle, and how far it is really founded on nature, by our own sensations, or our observation of the sensations of others, we are much at a loss where to look for these means of decifion. Dramatic representation, we have already observed, neither occupies the time or attention enough to have any great, or permanent energy, on our paffions; and the perusal of tragedies, or other compofitions of a congenial cast, is confidered in general as the amusement of an idle hour, ready to be thrown aside in a moment on the arrival of the newspaper, or the summons to the card table. The only persons of the present day, who at all devote their attention with ardor and perfeverance to the reading compositions of fictitious distress, (and I believe their number, especially among the higher ranks, decreases every day,) are those usually called romantic young women, who dedicate much of their time to the study of the numerous tales, with which the press continually furnishes our circulating libraries. It is not my business here to enquire how this kind of application may influence their opinions, and conduct in life; but it certainly seems likely to throw some light on the influence a ferious attention to scenes of imitated paffion, may have on the force of real paffion. And here we must confefs, the first appearance is against the doctrine of the critic; the general effect of novel-reading on the gentler sex is too obvious to be doubted; it excites and enflames the paffion which is the principal subject of the tale, and the fufceptibility of the female votary of the circulating library, is proverbial. But we must, in the first place, recollect, that the passion of U love
love is very different in itself from terror and pity, though it may be the cause of circumftances replete with both [(M); and it is the tendency to this paffion, and not to those of pity and terror, which is encreased by this kind of reading. Befides, it is not perhaps so much the paffion itself that is enflamed, as the wish to feel it is created by this study. A defire of resembling the fictitious heroine of a novel, has often induced a young mind to enquire for those sensations, which, without fuch a search, might have continued for some time dormant in the bosom. So far, therefore, is love from being blunted by imitative fiction, that such fiction is often an efficient cause of its being first excited. But, in the next place, is it so clear that the paffion, of pity at least, (the terrible is seldom admitted in a novel,) is not purged and blunted in these very fufceptible minds? The reasoning of Aristotle seems to be this: the mind that has been awakened and agitated by the calamities of Edipus, Orestes, or Merope; that fees high rank and exalted character so far from exempting their possessors from pain and distress, only add accumulated weight to their sufferings, will be apt, from conftant attention to fuch scenes, to feel less from the contemplation of fimilar incidents in real life, which are seldom attended with those complicated and unallayed distresses which attend the fiction of the poet, whose business it is to select every circumstance proper to excite the paffions of pity and terror in the highest degree, and omit every event that might at all tend to alleviate or divert them. That such are the characters Ariftotle points out as proper for tragedy, appears from the thirteenth chapter.. [M] The advantage modern tragedy draws from love, confidered in this light, will be examined in another place. See Note IV. chap. хил. And
POETIC OF ARISTOTLE. And Beni, in consequence of this, renders τῶν τοιέτων παθημάτων, ' the paffions of fuch perfons, i. e. σπουδαίων, as implied in σπουδαίας,' paraphrafing it thus. As it was the object of comedy to expose and cor- • rect the foibles of private perfons, so it was that of tragedy to inftance ⚫ those in persons of higher rank, and who were invested with authority.'
My opinion of the idea of Aristotle receives the strongest corroboration from the fragment of Timocles, an Athenian comic poet, quoted by Mr. Cumberland, in the Obferver, No. 106. Yet hear me fpeak. Man is, of living beings, By nature most unhappy. Life to him Then for your woes Brings many a bitter pang. • This confolation feek. He finds oblivion • Of his own griefs, whose fufceptible heart • Is gently drawn to feel another's suff'rings, • And finds instruction mingled with delight. ، ، Turn to the tragic muse, and meet relief In every scene. If " steep'd in poverty Up to the lips; there Telephus shall shew A monarch poorer, and confole your want. Say, Are you mad? Behold Alcmæon's frenzy. • Are your eyes dim? Lo the Phineidæ blind! Is your fon dead? The loss of Niobe • Shall lighten yours. Or, are you old and wretched ? • Learn from Oëneus. If unnumber'd ills • Worse than all these should press you, he who turns U2 His
• His thoughts on other's miseries, will know • With patience more refign'd, to bear his own [N].' On the fame principle with this mode of reasoning, (and I fee no cause to question the justness of it) may not the young woman, who is for ever weeping over the distresses of a Clarissa, or a Sydney Biddulph, and tracing the affecting scenes, and wonderful revolutions, to be found in the adventures of a Cecilia, or an Emmeline, have her feelings something deadened to the less interesting distresses of ordinary life; or, to use the words of Ariftotle, with some paraphrafe, may not the paffion of pity be purged of fome of its more violent effects in reality, from being frequently excited for amusement by fictitious tales [o] of woe. Much [N] I ought, perhaps, to apologize to the reader for substituting a version of my own, for the elegant tranflation of Mr. Cumberland. But my purpose required a closer copy of the original; especially in the 4th, 5th, 6th, and 7th lines, which correspond so exactly with the opinion of Ariftotle. Παραψυχὰς ἐν φρόντιδων ἀνεῦρατον Τάυτας, ὁ γὰρ νοῦς τῶν ἰδίων λήθην λαβών Πρὸς ἄλλοτριῳ τε ψυχαγωγηθείς πάθει ΜΕΘ' ΗΔΟΝΗΣ ἀπῆλθε, παιδευθεὶς ἅμα. [o] May I be allowed to quote a former attempt of my own, to support this opinion? • Awake to each fictitious feeling grown, And moved by ills to real life unknown; The mind, with scenes of fabled woe possess'd, • Will shut to homely grief the senseless breaft, • And turn from want and pain the offended ear, • To pour for feign'd distress the barren tear." PROGRESS OF REFINEMENT. Perhaps the effect of comic imitation may, in some measure, illustrate this subject. Does not the representation of ridiculous characters and incidents, heightened beyond what we ever find in reality, blunt in some degree the force of ridicule on characters in life, which are never so truly laughable as the fictitious ones: for as Longinus observes, laughter is a paffion, though a pleasing one. Κὰι γὰρ ὁ γελὼς πάθος ἐν ἡδονῆ. Long. sect. xxxviii. See also Note XIV. on chap. xxv. has
POETIC OF ARISTOTLE. has been faid of the tear of sensibility, and I own I should have little opinion of the head or heart of any person, and especially of a woman, that could laugh over Clariffa, or fit with dry eyes, while Mrs. Siddons was acting Isabella or Belvidera. But these tears are the means, and not the end; or, to pursue the medical metaphor of Aristotle, they are the operation of the medicine, and not its final effect; neither are these feelings always a test of real humanity. Rousseau observes somewhere, that the tears which we shed for fictitious forrow, are admirably ' adapted to make us proud of all the virtues we do not possess.' Some very humane and benevolent men are fond of being present at executions; and others will feel for distress on the stage, without having, in reality, any humanity at all. Plutarch, in his Life of Pelopidas, and in his treatise on the Fortune of Alexander, relates an anecdote of Alexander, king of Phærea, one of the most cruel tyrants of antiquity, who, on being moved to tears by the representation of a tragedy of Euripides, left the theatre with confufion, ashamed to discover, that he who was insensible to the fufferings of his people, should be so strongly affected by the distresses of [P] Hecuba and Andromache. [P] These are the characters Plutarch mentions in the Life of Pelopidas, where he names the Troades as the tragedy: but in the treatise on the Fortune of Alexander, he names Hecuba and Polyxena, which last character is not in the Troades, but in the tragedy of Hecuba. Mr. Upton, in his note on this line in Hamlet, ' What's Hecuba to him, or he to Hecuba,' observes, that it is plain Shakespear alludes to this anecdote, which, confidering how much Shakespear appears to be converfant with Plutarch, (all of whose works were translated in his time) seems highly probable. Though there is a confiderable difference in the application, as the emotion of a performer is mentioned by Shakespear, and Alexander was a spectator. If Hamlet himself had been moved by the recital, it would have been more germane to the allufion. Before
Before I conclude this part of my fubject, I will hazard a quotation from a very intelligent financier and statefman, (M. Pinto) on the effect of the universal prevalence of cards on modern manners, as I conceive it is by no means foreign to our present enquiry. It is part of a letter, printed at the end of his treatise on Circulation and Credit. • The magic of cards forms a common focus of almost all the passions in miniature. They all find there, if I may use the expreffion, their proper food. It is true that every thing there is microscopic, and more illufive than common illufions are; a confused idea of happiness ' and mifery is found there. The sphere of the paffions is reduced, concentred, and drawn into a narrower circle; all the paffions in a manner entangle themselves, evaporate and spend themselves at a diftance from their fource and their proper object; restlessness, leifure, idleness, avarice and ambition, devour in common an unsubstantial food, which enervates their force and their activity.' The ESSAY ON THE END OF TRAGEDY, ACCORDING TO ARIS- TOTLE, by profeffor Moore, of Glasgow, which is mentioned by Mr. Twining, is an ingenious, but unfuccefsful attempt to reconcile this passage with his own hypothefis, that the end of tragedy is the awakening the mind, to a sense of the evils attending errors of conduct in human life, and to cause, by the pity and terror they occafion, an exemption or removal of fuch calamities from themselves. I once had the book, but as it was at a time when I had no particular interest in its contents, it made but a flight impreffion on my mind, and having lost it, I have never been able to procure a fecond copy. His chief argument, I remember, rests on παθημάτα, being generally used not for passions, but actual misfortunes; and he cites various inftances from Ariftotle and other writers. But
POETIC OF ARISTOTLE. But though there can be no reasonable doubt, I think, of the meaning of Aristotle, yet it by no means follows, but that the hypothesis of Dr. Moore, though not that of Aristotle, may be still more congenial with modern tragedy, whose end I cannot conceive to be the purging of the paffions of pity and fear. But this will be much more fully treated of, when we come to speak of Aristotle's opinion of the proper tragic catastrophe.
6.2.
mvp-aristotle-comment-15
6.3
SOME PARTS ATTAIN THEIR END BY VERSE ALONE, AND OTHERS HAVE THE ASSISTANCE OF MUSIC.
IT seems impoffible for any thing to be more clearly expressed than this; for Ariftotle, contrary to his general custom, has been particularly careful in defining the precise meaning of the two words he uses, μέτρον and μέλος ; and he also expressly says, they are employed separately. Yet notwithstanding this, many critics are decidedly of opinion, that the Greek tragedies were fung throughout, and the distinction between the dialogue and the choral odes, was exactly the fame with that between the recitative and the airs in the Italian opera; and, in support of this opinion, they draw many arguments from the accounts given by ancient writers on the manner of performing the Greek tragedy. Being not very well acquainted with the technical language of the music of my own country, I cannot be supposed to be a critic in that of Greece. Under this disadvantage, it is with diffidence I attempt to reconcile this positive declaration of Ariftotle, with those passages in other writers, which appear to contradict it, and which the reader will find in Metaftafio's ESTRATTO DELLA POETICA. The
The ancient theatres (2) were of such a vast extent, besides being open at the top, that it was impoffible for the human voice to fill them in its natural pitch; in consequence of which, it was absolutely necessary to employ artificial means to encrease its force, and the dramatic [R] mask was invented, which, in some measure, acted as a speaking trumpet: but as this must destroy all natural modulation of the voice, it was found necessary to supply this defect by an [s] artificial notation of found, and to render this more distinct and loud, it was very probably attended by fome flight inftrumental accompaniment, but folely for the purpose of encreasing and regulating the found of the voice, and not to produce any musical effect; and this was equally applicable to the [T] quick repartee of the dialogue, as to the longer monologue. It must be observed, that Ariftotle does not fimply say, that tragedy EM- PLOYS music and verse separately, but that it ATTAINS ITS END by [Q] See Note VII. chap. XIII. [R] The mask had fomething very fingular. The immenfe aperture of the mouth was ' so contrived as to augment the found of the voice; it was in effect a real speaking trumpet, (porte voix) necessary to fill the wide extent of the place, as well as the brazen vases which ▲ were placed in the intervals of the theatre.' BRUMOY. [s] For a curious obfervation of Dr. Francklin on this practice of the ancients, fee note I. [T] ' If, as Ariftotle seems plainly to say, fome part of the Greek tragedy was spoken like ⚫ our tragic declamation, without any musical accompaniment, it was, most probably, that part of the dialogue which is in every tragedy easily diftinguished from the rest, by its being ' carried on in a fort of quick repartee of verse to verse.' TWINING, note 46, page 245- Whether the monologues, or long speeches, the μακραὶ ῥήσεις, as Plato calls them, were ' performed in the fame way as the rest of the dialogue, or, as has been imagined, were ' diftinguished by being more measured, or musical, is a point not easily cleared up.' IBID. page 247. them
POETIC OF ARISTOTLE. them separately, in their respective parts; using the word περαίνεσθαι, which he has just before applied to the accomplishment of its final purpose, the refinement of the paffions. Therefore, in those parts, where verse only is used, though tragedy might be compelled, from fome incidental cause, to employ accompaniment, he does not confider it as effential to the performance and effect, as he does in those parts where the end of tragedy is attained by music [u]. What Metaftafio says on this subject, is well worth our attention. He is very fanguine in the notion, that the whole composition of the ancient tragedy was musical, following the opinion of his countryman Castelvetro, which he quotes. His reasoning on this subject is founded on the idea, that all recitation must adopt some kind of tune different from the common cadence of speech. A voice,' he says, to be • heard by a number of people to whom it is addressed, must be fo exceffively altered from its natural system, that it must necessarily be regulated differently, according to the different orders of its new proportions, (that is, I suppose, according to the extent it is necessary, from the fize of the place, or the number of the auditors, to give it,) * otherwise it will form a wild, dissonant, and ridiculous scream; this new regulation must be music, and this music is so necessary to whoever speaks in public, that if it is not supplied by art, nature herself suggests it. There is no orator that does not fing; no cryer, no public vender of any merchandize, that is not conftrained, for the purpose ' of making himself heard, either to adopt, or form, according to his own caprice, some kind of tune. Even those actors who pretend to [υ] Διὰ μέλος. X recite C
recite verfe without music, are obliged to invent one which they call • declamation: music, indeed, but very imperfect, since it is only regu- • lated by the uncertain judgement of the reciter's ear. This natural ، proof, which is as clear as it is true, joined to an infinite number of others which confirm it, discovers the error of those critics who have pofitively decided, that no part of the ancient drama was sung except the chorus.' ESTRATTO DELLA POETICA, page 52. Now after all, this only proves, or rather corroborates the truth of my conjecture, that, as when the voice is carried to an extent beyond its natural pitch, it will necessarily adopt some unnatural tone; so it is highly probable that recitation in the ancient theatres, whose size required an extraordinary extent of voice, and its consequence, an unnatural tone, might have that tone regulated by some instrumental accompaniment, which though so perfectly distinct from those parts, such as the choral odes, where mufic was employed, in the fullest sense of the word, as completely to justify the opposition in which they are placed to each other by Aristotle, might yet occafion those passages in the ancient writers, that are quoted. by Metaftafio in support of his hypothefis [x]. [x] The strongest argument of Metastasio is drawn from a passage of Ariftotle himself, Problem, Sect. xix. 49. where he describes the different kinds of music adapted to the actors, and the chorus. All the others are drawn from Roman writers, except one from Lucian de Saltatione, which is evidently intended to shew the absurdity of the musical accompaniment, in his time, which was, most probably, different from that of the Athenian stage in the time of Ariftotle; for while the blames this unnatural accompaniment, he expressly says, that the AN- CIENT POETS regulated the other decorations of the theatre as well as the mere words, a proof that the practice was changed; and Metastasio himself allows he is complaining of the effeminate music of the actors of his own time; therefore it not only invalidates the evidence of the Roman writers, but tends to overturn the general system of Metastafio, as to the merit of the musical drama.. The
POETIC OF ARISTOTLE. The real motive of Metastasio's attachment to this hypothesis, it is sufficiently obvious, arose from his partiality to the opera, in which he was a most excellent writer, and which he wishes to shew was a lineal, and legitimate offspring, of the Greek tragedy, as most probably it was. The Roman theatre having turned the neceffary means of modulating the voice, in so large and open a room, into a real musical accompaniment, which the Italian theatre retained as an ornament after it ceased to be abfolutely requifite. But the fize of the modern theatre (v) is by no means such as to require any unnatural elevation of the voice. And as to the necessity of every person speaking in a tone, who addresses a public assembly, it certainly is not founded on fact. A member of parliament, who was to address the house of commons, or even his constituents, in any thing like a tone, or tune, would not be heard a moment. Indeed the substitution of modulated, for empassioned accent, or, in other words, the laying any emphafis of any kind, but what the sense, or rather the expreffion of the sense requires, is a certain unerring proof that the speaker is delivering what he has before committed to memory. I have heard many good preachers; but I never heard one who did not, in the course of a fermon, lay the [z] emphasis often on places contrary to the sense. I have heard (Y) I mean the theatres of this country, used for the representation of the regular drama. The theatres of Italy, especially those at Naples, Turin, and Milan, may require modulated recitation to fill them with propriety. [z] By emphasis here, I mean the distinction of words in a fentence, and not of fyllables in a word, which, I think, both Dr. Beattie and Mr. Nares have erroneoufly confounded with accent. For a further attempt to illustrate this subject, the reader is referred to note II. chap. xx. as
as many bad speakers in parliament; but I never heard one who was speaking on the subject in debate without premeditation, that ever placed the emphafis contrary to the sense he meant to convey; and in common conversation the emphasis was never yet laid improperly. As to the tone used by the venders of merchandize, we allow a kind of fong to the cryers of oysters and mackrel; but an auctioneer, who attempted to adopt one, would certainly be laughed at. And fince the days of Garrick [A], all unnatural declamation has been entirely banished from our theatres. The probability and excellence of the musical drama is also defended by Metastasio on another principle, with which, as a general rule, I perfectly agree, viz. That an imitator, who does not undertake to pro- • duce the exact truth, but only to give as great a likeness as possible to the • material that he employs, has perfectly fulfilled his promise, and attain- ' ed his end, when he has given it every thing of which his materials are 'capable-and that it is from ignorance of this nature of imitation, that' arises the contemptuous judgement of those, who treat the musical • drama as improbable, and absurd, because the actors die with a fong in ' their mouth; as if from its first origin, language measured and modu- •lated, was not the appropriated and indispensible material of every kind • of poetical imitation.' ESTRATTO DELLA POETICA, page 87, 88. [A] However much the public may be obliged to Mr. Garrick for this and other improvements of dramatic representation, we must lament his alteration of Drury-lane Theatre, which, from being the best calculated of any I was ever in to convey found, since the deepening of the front boxes, and first gallery, is so faulty in that respect, as almost to want the afsistance of the ancient mask. This defect is now radically removed by the pulling down the old theatre and I hope it will not exist in the magnificent one which is erecting on its fite. Now
POETIC OF ARISTOTLE. Now though, as I have already faid, I perfectly allow the truth of this as a general principle; yet the last part of the quotation, taken in its strictest sense, is not true; neither does it follow, because in imitations made by the fine arts the material should appear, that every material is proper for every kind of imitation, or that some materials may not be fo inadequate, or so oppofite to the imitation of the object intended, as to be entirely incapable of producing any interest. For though difficulty overcome may, in some cafes, inhance the merit of imitation, as 'fculp- • ture in marble is more valuable than in wax, on account of the greater • difficulty of the execution (B);' yet no difficulty furmounted can ever compenfate for any radical inadequacy in the material to effect its proposed end. A statue of Glycon will excite the admiration of cultivated taste, even when well copied by the easiest process; but Atlas hewn into a statue, would only awake the wonder of the multitude. Even Metastafio could fee the force of this distinction when it favored an hypothefis of his own. For arguing against the ancient chorus, he blames the absurdity of a number of persons agreeing together in the same sentiments at once, and bursting forth in a general declaration of them. (Estratto, page 236.) Forgetting that this may also be solved, by saying these combined voices are only the means of imitation, and that there is no more real abfurdity in a [c] speech being accompanied by vocal than by instrumental performers. And again, in his note on this line of the epistle to the Pifos, Quæ canerent agerentque peruncti fæcibus ora.' [B] Estratto, page 344. [c] Many of the choral odes in the Greek tragedies are in the fingular number, as spoken by one person. As in the Edipus Tyrannus, v. 1105, beginning Είπερ ἐγὼ μάντις ἐιμί where
where he is defending against Sanadon the continued music of the Greek drama, he observes, that if the contrary were allowed, there would be found in the Greek tragedy, that disgustful medly [D] of speaking and ، ، finging, which is now hardly tolerated in the [E] comic opera, as being an extravagant deformity, invented by the mirth of scurrilous licentiousness, to excite the laugh of the vulgar.' In regard to the first instance, Metastafio, aware that what he urges against the fudden coincidence of sentiment and expreffion, in the perfons of the Greek chorus, might be urged with equal force against the chorus of the Italian opera, tries to qualify it by saying, it is natural for the stage to avail itself of the pleasure of a chorus, in a facrifice, or a triumph, where the people may be supposed to fing premeditated words, or, in a popular commotion, where they may naturally agree, on a fudden, in their thoughts and expression, as in calling for justice, vengeance, pity, war, or peace. Unluckily in this cafe the theory and the practice of Metastafio are at variance; for there is hardly a concluding chorus among his operas, that is not, to the full, as unlike the sudden coincidence of popular opinion, as the most moral ode of Sophocles. And as to the people's finging a premeditated chorus, what becomes then of the material of imitation? (F) From that instant, musical language ceases to be [D] See Mr. Twining's note 46, page 245, for a complete answer to the notion of this mixture being incompatible with the dignity of the Grecian tragic muse. [E] Metastasio does not mean the Italian comic opera which is accompanied throughout and is their regular comedy, but the French opera comique (which words he uses,) and which mode of compofition, copied from the French, has driven the scenes of Shakespear from our disgraced theatre, to found their fame on the inferior, though generous efforts of a fifter art. [F] There is a curious instance of this fort in LOVE IN A VILLAGE, when Justice Woodcock fings a fong, as a fong to his daughter's lover. There is an absurdity the reverse of this, though of
POETIC OF ARISTOTLE. be the language of the characters, the deception is expressly disavowed, and the performer may as well, as Bottom advises the lion, 'come forward and fay, "I am no such thing, I am a man as other men are." And ' there indeed let him name his name, and tell them plainly, he is Snug ' the joiner.' What was the effect of the musical accompaniment on the ancient theatre, whether continued throughout the whole piece, or only used in parts of it, we can now hardly judge, as we scarcely know what it was. On the modern stage it feems to weaken the force of the interest, as I think no artificial modulation can ever equal the empaffioned notes of nature uttered by a good actor. In general, the pleasure we derive from the mufic, is rather our object in the Italian opera than the intereft of the scene. It appears, I confefs, to me, that blending music with empaffioned language [G], tends strongly to weaken the energy of both, and the only way to give each their full effect is to follow the precept of Ariftotle, and keep them ' diftinct in their respective parts [H].' of exactly the fame tendency, in Tancred and Sigismunda, where the letter from Tancred, which Sigifmunda reads, is in profe. In both these cafes the material of imitation is avowed. It is exactly as if the dialogue only of the Iliad, or the Paradife Loft, were in verse, and the connective parts, like the marginal directions of the drama, were in prose. If all the other characters of Love in a Village occafionally express their sentiments in musical airs, Justice Woodcock should not be an exception. If Tancred speaks in verse, he should not write in profe. [G] It must be remembered I am not speaking of lyric poetry, but confine my observations entirely to dramatic effect. [H] Aristotle, in his first chapter, make the diftinguishing character between the regular drama and the nomi and dithyrambic poetry, to confist in this circumstance, of the one species ufing music and poetry together throughout the piece, and the other in separate places. Thofe
Those writers who have particularly confidered the powers of mufic, its merit as an imitative art, and its influence over the passions [1], have been of opinion, that its principal force does not confist so much in exciting our feelings by imitation, as in the power it possesses of caufing fuch a temper of mind, as is fit to receive the impreffions intended to be made by the poet. If this is the cafe, the chorus [K] being an essential part of the ancient tragedy, could not poffibly have been disposed better than it was by the custom of the Grecian theatre, where the leading character of the group, or the Coryphæus, was confidered as one of the characters of the drama, and took a part in the action; while the whole body together were employed as a kind of musical ornament between the intervals of the action, keeping up, and heightening the force of the impreffion arifing from the incidents, by moral and pathetic reflections on their consequences, delivered in beautiful verse, and accompanied by mufic calculated to awaken congenial sensations in the mind. M. Leffing observes, [L] (Dramaturgie, vol. i. page 44,) that ' as the ' orchestre in our theatres, in fome degree, holds the fame place with ' the chorus of the ancients, the lovers of the drama have long wished, ' that the music which precedes the performance, and that which is ، played between the acts, should agree with the nature of the piece.' And he tells us, an attempt of this fort was made by a M. Scheibe, on the tragedies of Polyeucte, and Mithridate, and executed on several dif- [1] Particularly Mr. Harris, Dr. Beattie, and Mr. Twining. [K] See note IV. chap. XII. [L] Mr. Twining makes the fame observation. The performers,' he says, 'in the orchestra • of a modern theatre, are little, I believe, aware that they occupy the place, and may confider ' themselves as the lineal defcendants of the ancient chorus.' NOTE ON THE TRANSLATION, Part ii. Sect. xxi. page 103. ferent
POETIC OF ARISTOTLE. ferent theatres in the year 1736. The fame attempt, he says, was also made by M. Agricola, at Berlin, on the tragedy of Semiramis, and with complete success. I fear this experiment would hardly succeed on our theatre. It is, sometimes, very difficult for the lover of the drama to prevail on his neighbours, to suppress their conversation in the most interesting scenes of a tragedy; and I believe no musical power, lefs than that of Orpheus, could charm an English audience from the pleasure of talking between the acts. We fee, every day, the same persons, who, in the country, would pay half a guinea, and travel twenty miles in the dark, to fit in raptures, real or affected, at a concert, performed by a band, in every respect inferior to those which fill our theatrical orchestres, appear perfectly inattentive to the music at the play-houses, and who would think a person out of his senses, who should request their attention to any piece of mufie that should be performed between the acts of a play. Only one attempt, that I know of, (I cannot say of this kind, fince its tendency was directly oppofite,) has been made here, to introduce any thing, during the intervals of the representation, at all allusive to the incidents of the piece. This was in the tragedy of Zara, where, in the intervals, a humourous dialogue was to be sung by Mr. Beard and Mrs. Clive, commenting on, and ridiculing the incidents and sentiments of the preceding act. Of the success of this curious attempt, or whether the dialogue was ever performed, I am ignorant; but it is generally printed with the tragedy. Y NOTE
6.3.
mvp-aristotle-comment-16
6.17
THE FABLE THEN IS THE CHIEF PART, AND, AS IT WERE, THE SOUL OF TRAGEDY.
THIS observation of Aristotle is undoubtedly founded on nature, and is not only applicable to tragedy, but to every other kind of imitative composition, whether dramatic or narrative. Perhaps there is no circumstance in which the tragedies of the present day are so deficient, as in the want of interesting action. This is, in a great measure, owing to the strict adherence to the French rule, of not fuffering the supposed time of action to exceed the real time of reprefentation. Dramatic poetry is, by this regulation, almost confined to the boundary of painting, and can only represent a fsingle scene of any great event. And this is attended by another inconvenience; for the allotted space of five acts becomes as much too great for that single scene, as the confined period of three hours would be too small for the whole action; and hence the poet is obliged to spin out his tragedy by means of the dialogue, and falls under the same [M] inconvenience as would attend a proper and complete dramatic fable, without episodic parts, if swelled to the fize of the epopee. The great defect in that [N] truly fublime poem, the Paradife Loft, is a want of interest in the fable; every character, except two, being fuper- [M] Poetic, Chap. xxvI. [N] See Beattie on Poetry and Music, Part i. Chap. iv. natural;
POETIC OF ARISTOTLE. natural; and we can never be greatly interested in the distress, or profperity, of a person, into whose situation it is impossible for us to [o] put ourselves. Addison, who was determined to find every possible excellence in the Paradife Loft, though he could not help [P] seeing this defect in the fable, nevertheless makes the following remark. After observing that the Iliad and Æneid, from [Q] their national subjects, must have been respectively very interesting to the Greeks and Romans, he proceeds, • Milton's poem is admirable in this respect, since it is impossible for any of its readers, whatever nation, country, or people he may belong to, not to be related to the persons who are the principal actors in it.' Spectator, No. 273. Now, befides the mistake Addison appears to have made as to the effect of national fable, which seems to be rather the foothing the vanity of the reader, than the encrease of his interest in the action, one should hardly have supposed, that Addison could have been ignorant of the obvious truth, that every affection is exactly weakened in proportion to its becoming general. There is no distinction so great in civil life as that between a man and any other animal, and yet I never knew a perfon proud of this last distinction, though there is no elevation of rank so inconfiderable, as not to have awakened pride in some bofoms. [ο] Θόβος δὲ περὶ τὸν ὅμοιον. Poet. Ch. xiii. [P] Spectator, No. 357. [Q] It seems a national hero, in Addison's opinion, was a fine qua non, in the epopee; for he says, in his critique on Chevy Chace, Virgil's hero was the founder of Rome,' (was he?) › Homer's a prince of Greece, and for this reason Valerius Flaccus, and Statius, who were * both Romans, might be justly derided for having chosen the expedition of the golden fleece, ← and the wars of Thebes, for the subjects of their epic writings. SPECT. No. 70. Y 2 The
The fame thing happens to the other paffions. We are strongly affected by a tale of private distress, even if not extending to danger or death; but we read, [R] without any emotion, of In one great day, on Hockstet's fatal plain, • French and Bavarians, twenty thousand flain, Push'd through the Danube to the shores of Styx; Squadrons eighteen, battalions twenty-fix. PRIOR. An error of the opposite side, but arifing from the fame cause, appears in the last book of the English Garden. By making an affecting tale the principal object, the subject of the poem is thrown entirely into the back ground. The mind is so much more influenced by the imitation of human actions and manners, than by any the most beautiful description of inanimate nature, that when they coincide, if the former is not very much kept down, it will entirely destroy all our interest in the latter. The story of Eurydice, in the fourth Georgic, is like the sketch of a mythological incident, such as Niobe, for inftance, introduced into a landscape. But the pathetic tale of Nerina, and especially in the peculiar form in which Mr. Mason has introduced it, takes up our whole attention, and the embellishment of the English Garden becomes the mere scenery of the action. Who will regard the ornament of a temple who is looking at the flaughter of the innocents, or examine the perspective of an apartment, which contains a Beaufort expiring in the agonies of guilt and despair ? [R] This is admirably well illustrated by a story told in one of the numbers of the Adventurer. See also the Encyclopedie, Art. Illusion. NOTE
6.4.
mvp-aristotle-comment-17
6.19
THE PROFESSED END OF TRAGEDY IS TO IMITATE AN ACTION; AND, CHIEFLY BY MEANS OF THAT ACTION, TO SHEW THE QUALITIES OF THE PERSONS ACTING.
PERHAPS there is not a stronger instance of the difference between manners introduced as secondary to the action, though arifing immediately, and necessarily, from it; and their holding the first place, than the novel of Tom Jones compared with Triftram Shandy. The masterly contrivance of the fable in the former, at once aftonishes and delights us; but though we may be struck with the high coloring of the other, we foon perceive it is laid on promiscuously; we are amused, but we are not interested, except in those parts where our paffions are engaged by incident, as well as awakened by quality; such as the admirable story of Le Fevre. I have often thought the [s] censure passed by Longinus on the Odyssey, when compared with the Iliad, arose from his misapprehenfion of this and another passage of Ariftotle; for one of the reasons he gives for introducing his unfavourable criticism on the Odyssey, he himself tells us, is to shew, how the greatest writers and poets, when their genius wants strength for the pathetic, naturally fall into description of man- [s] See note 1. chap. xxiv. • ners.'
ners [T]. Now it is true, Aristotle does characterise the Iliad as being simple and pathetic, the Odyssey as complicated and defcriptive of manners. (Poetic, Chap. XXIV.) But he obviously uses pathetic, as applied to the Iliad in the same sense with his definition of tragic pathos in the eleventh chapter; 'the exhibition of deaths, tortures, and wounds;' and not of that pathos which Longinus confiders as a species of the füblime. And to confider the two poems with regard to the passage before us, furely the Odyssey strictly fulfils the idea of Aristotle, in painting the manners through the fable. And though the Iliad, to use the language of the drama, may be fuller of bustle, [u] I cannot think the fable either so well constructed, or so interesting, as that of the Odyssey; and surely if there is only equal excellence in the first requifite, it can, at least, be no fault, to have superior excellence in that which is allowed to hold the second place.
6.5.
mvp-aristotle-comment-18
6.28
THE DECORATIONS OF THE STAGE, THOUGH VERY INTERESTING, HAVE THE LEAST CONNECTION WITH THE POETIC ART.
NOTWITHSTANDING the vast size, and superb decorations of the ancient theatres, which were looked upon as a national concern, and kept up at the national expence, they were neither so natural, or so interesting, as those of the moderns. They had no change of scene; for what some critics have urged from a passage in the third Georgic, and [Τ] Δευτέρα δὲ ἕνεκα προσισορείσθω τὰ καλὰ τὴν Οδύσσειαν, ὅπως ἢ σοι γνώριμον, ὡς ἡ ἀπακμὴ τὸ πάθους ἐν τῷις μεγάλοις συἱγραφεῦσι κὶ ποιητᾶις ἐις ἦθος ἐκλύεθαι. Sect. ix. [U] See note Iv. chap. xxvi. the
POETIC OF ARISTOTLE. the observation of Servius on it, in support of the contrary opinion, is certainly ill founded. [x] ' Or as the turning scene its aspect shifts.'- The note of Servius explains how this was done, either by the turning of a machine, for a representation of which the reader is referred to Dr. Warton's Virgil; or by drawing up and letting down curtains. But it appears from Vitruvius, L. v. that this change of scene was according to the different kind of drama, to each of which a particular scene was appropriated, that continued through the whole performance, and was always the fame in every performance of the same kind. The scenery of tragedy represented palaces, whose fronts were ornamented with columns and statues; comedy had the common houses and streets of a city; and the satyric scene was adorned by trees, cottages, rocks, and caves. As tragedy, therefore, was always confined to an area before a palace, and comedy to a street, those actions only could be represented with propriety, which might happen in the open air: this, however, was little additional restraint to tragedy, confined, as it was, by the continual prefence of the chorus; and comedy often broke through it, as may be shewn from many scenes of Ariftophanes. Indeed, I am inclined to think the decoration of the theatre was rather meant to imitate the scene of representation, than of action; and that the area before a palace, or public building, was confidered as a proper place for the exhibition of tragedy, authorised by the magiftrate, while a common ftreet was a likely place for the assembly of the voluntary [Y] performers of comedy; and [x] ' Vel scena ut versis difcedat frontibus.'- [Y] See what Ariftotle says, of the origin and progress of these two species of the drama, in chapters Iv and v. the
the fatyric pieces being less improved, and of inferior estimation, were confidered like comedy in its origin, as performed by village strollers, (See Poetic, Chap. 111.) On any other principle than this, (the stability of the scene, during the performance, being proved by the concurring testimony of all writers on the subject ;) a manifest absurdity must have attended many of the Greek tragedies, where the scene of action is apparently not laid in a town. Sophocles, who is called by Ariftotle the inventor of painted scenery, affords two striking instances of this kind. One in the Ajax, where Minerva says to Ulyffes, [z]' Now on the camp's remotest verge I find you, • Where Ajax' tents the Grecian navy guard.' The other in the Philoctetes, which begins, [A] ' And now we tread the unfrequented sands • Of defart Lemnos' fea-encircled shore.' It has already been observed in a [B] note on the fourth chapter, that the modern drama represented, is the most exact of any of the imitations effected by the arts; if, therefore, according to the hypothefis we have adopted, the illufion, as to objects disagreeable in themselves, was kept up too strongly, they would cease to please, and the practice of our theatre juftifies the remark. The actor does not avail himself of circumstances which are made use of by the dramatic painter with success. Our stage [B] Note 1. [Ζ] Κὰι νῦν ἐπὶ σκηναῖς σε ναυτικᾶις ὁρῶ Αἴαντος, ἔνθα τάξιν ἐσχάτην ἔχει. [Α] Ακλὴ μὲν ἤ δε τῆς περιῤῥύτον χθονός Λήμνε βροζοις ἄσειπζους ἐδ᾽ ὀικαμένη. is
POETIC OF ARISTOTLE. is never stained with blood flowing from the wounds of the dying characters; for, as a very elegant critic observes, 'We ought to exclude those means of imitation which render it too frightfully and horribly true, as when blood is concealed in a bladder under the dress of an actor who ' is to appear to kill himself, and it overflows the theatre.' ENCYCLO- PEDIE, ART. ILLUSION, by M. Marmontel. That our theatre formerly adopted this practice, appears from a stage direction in Dryden's King Arthur, relating to the single combat between Arthur and Ofwald. It begins, 'They fight with sponges in ' their hands, dipt in blood; after some equal passes and clofing, they • both appear wounded.' I cannot quit this subject without paying the tribute of gratitude to the memory of Mr. Garrick, for the improvement he made in the general probability of representation, and particularly in the characteristic dresses of the British theatre. Before his time, or, rather, before his reformation of the stage, which was long subsequent to his being the chief ornament of it, all tragedies were performed in the modern dress, and even Cato used to strut over the stage in a tye wig; and, in fome instances, when this infringement of the coftumi was only partial, the abfurdity was only rendered more glaring. While Brutus and Caffius were in full trimmed coats, and tyes, Cæfar had a robe, a bob wig, and a laurel crown; and Falstaff was as much distinguished by his dress as by his humour, from the other persons of the drama. The reformation of this impropriety is become universal, and extends even to the provincial theatre. Z CHAP.
7.1.
mvp-aristotle-comment-19
7.2
WHAT I MEAN BY ENTIRE IS, COMPREHENDING IN ITSELF A BEGINNING, A MIDDLE, AND AN END.
INNUMERABLE are the instances of errors as to all these points, in our dramatic writers. We have beginnings that require something to precede them, endings that do not conclude the story, and middles neither connected with one or the other. As to the beginning of a dramatic fable, it is almost impoffible that it can be included within the drama itself: as an event fufficiently great and interesting [A] to form a proper dramatic fable, can hardly be supposed to begin, and be completely finished, in the largest space of time allowed for the length of a tragic action. The greatest difficulty, therefore, that the poet labors under in this cafe, is to [B] open the fable to the audience by probable means; indeed [A] See note II, chap. VI. [B] I hear a sudden noife in the street, and run to fee what is the matter. An infurrec- ⚫tion has happened; a great multitude is brought together, and something very important is < going forward. The scene before me is the first thing that engages my attention, and is, in • itself, so interesting, that, for a moment or two, I look at it in filence and wonder. By and • by, when I get time for reflection, I begin to enquire into the cause of all this tumult, and ، what
POETIC OF ARISTOTLE. deed I hardly know of any circumstance in which dramatic writers are so generally blameable. The (c) mode usually adopted by the ancients was very little better than the scheme of Bayes, to infinuate his plot into the boxes. The modern fashion is, either for the hero or heroine, to tell a long story to a confidential friend, which we can only be furprized was never done before, or else a company of statesmen, or officers, are difcovered as astonished at some particular event, or unusual order, which they are utterly unable to account for, till one of them, better informed and more communicative than the rest, discloses the whole fecret for the common edification of his friends and the audience. The advantage tragedy is supposed to have, and, indeed, certainly had among the ancients, over comedy, in this respect, is humorously defcribed in a fragment, either of Ariftophanes or Ariphanes, preserved by Athenæus, and quoted both by Mr. Twining and Mr. Winstanley, of which the following paraphraftic translation is attempted : [D] Happy the tragic bard, whose graver muse, Cautious, some tale of ancient fame pursues; Whofe < what it is the people would be at; and one, who is better informed than I, explains the af- < fair from the beginning, or, perhaps, I make this out for myself from the words and actions ' of the perfons concerned. This is a fort of picture of poetical arrangement both in epic and • dramatic compofition.' BEATTIE ON POETRY AND MUSIC, Part 1. Chap. v. [C] See note L. chapter XII. [D] -Μακάριον ἐσιν ἡ τραγωδιά Πόιημα καλὰ πανί. ἔιγε πρῶτον δι λόγοι Ὑπὸ τῶν θεαζῶν ἐίσιν ἐγνωρισμένοι Πρὶν καὶ τιν᾿ ἐιπῖιν, ὡς ὑπομνῆσαι μόνον Z2
。 Whose conduct to the listening audience known, Demands the aid of memory alone. Name Edipus, no farther we enquire; We know his crime, his offspring, and his fire. Pronounce Alcmæon, boys can tell the rest, How the fad maniac pierc'd a mother's breast. Not so, the vot'ries of the comic stage, New names, new facts, the wond'ring ear engage. All that precedes the opening of the scene, The various incidents that intervene The bard's creative fancy must supply, And clearly picture to the public eye.- His own the action, persons, manners, all, From the first opening, to the curtain's fall. In this, if Chremes, or if Pheido fail, A hiss of scorn rewards th' imperfect tale. Δει τὸν ποιηλὴν. Οιδίπεν γὰρ ἂν γε φῶ Τὰ δ᾽ ἄλλα παν᾽ ἴσασιν. ὁ παλὴρ Λάϊος, Μήτηρ Ἰοκάση, θυγατέρες, πᾶιδες, τίνες, Τὶ πείσεθ᾽ δυλος, τὶ πεποίηκεν· ἂν πάλικ Ἔιπη τις Αλκμαίωνα, καὶ τὰ παιδία Παλ᾽ ἐυθὺς ἕυρηκεν, ὅτι μανῖις ἀπέκζονε Τὴν μητέρα. Ἡμῖν δὲ ταῦτ᾽ ἐκ ἕσιν, ἀλλὰ πάντα δεῖ Ευρεῖν ὀνόμαζα καινα, τὰ διωκημένα, Πρότερον, τὰ νῦν παρόνια, τὴν καζασροφῆν Τῆν ἐσβολήν. ἂν ἕν τι τέτων παραλίπη, Χρέμης τις, ἤ Φείδων τις ἐκσυρίτζεται, Πηλει δὲ ταῦτ᾽ ἔξεςι κς Τεύκρῳ ποιεῖν. While
POETIC OF ARISTOTLE. While unreftrain'd by fuch coercive laws, Peleus and Teucer, win at once applaufe. The English reader, if he pleases, may substitute Richard and Henry, for Peleus and Teucer; and Belcour and Surface, for Chremes and Pheido. It must be acknowledged, there is not the same difference between tragedy and comedy on the modern stage, as few of our tragedies are now founded on known stories; and where the action and characters are the invention of the poet, they are exactly in the fame predicament with comedy. Even in those that are drawn, either from our own annals, or from popular tales, it is a very inartificial conduct in the poet to truft to the previous information of the spectators for their understanding the piece, fince every fable that is not perfect in itself must be faulty. Befides, it is very possible, as Ariftotle observes elfewhere, (ch. 1x.) that the most popular tale may not be familiar to all the audience. A defective middle, which requires nothing else either to precede or follow it, can only be applicable to fuch pieces, if any fuch there are, where the body of the incidents are episodic, and are not either the consequences of the opening, or the causes of the catastrophe of the fable. Perhaps, however, in those plays that are spun out after the solution of the plot is complete, such solution may properly be called a middle, that requires nothing to follow it. I must own, Edipus, notwithstanding the ingenious defence of [E] M. D'Aubignac, feems, to me, faulty in this respect. For if Aristotle's definition of an end, that, it requires nothing to follow it, be understood strictly, and not with relation to [E] See Mr. Twining's note. the
the particular fable only, there can be no such thing as a complete catastrophe, fince the completion [F] of one action may be a very proper and necessary beginning of another: and which is, indeed, the cafe of the Edipus Tyrannus, and Edipus Coloneus of Sophocles. But of this more presently. I think we find this premature catastrophe in the Merchant of Venice. The delivery of Antonio, and the punishment of Shylock, in the fourth act, completely end the interest of the play; and the last act can be confidered only as a kind of after-piece. Of abrupt conclusions, or catastrophes that require other subsequent circumstances to render them complete, Shakespear, like most of his contemporaries, can furnish several instances. For, as Dr. Johnfon remarks, in many of his plays, ' the latter part is evidently neglected. He remits his efforts where he should most vigorously exert them; ' and his catastrophe is improbably introduced, or imperfectly repre- ' fented.' I cannot, however, agree with the doctor, in imputing the fuppreffion of the dialogue between the ufurping duke and the hermit, in As You Like It, to any defire of the poet, to bring his piece to a hasty conclufion. Shakespear was too good a judge of human nature, to exert < his highest powers in exhibiting a moral lesson,' when his audience were in anxious expectation of an interesting catastrophe; and if he chose to bring this about by a circumstance so little probable as the conversion of a tyrant, we furely cannot blame him for throwing it as much as possible into the shade. I must, however, with Mr. Twining and Mr. Stevens, regret his forgetfulness of poor old Adam. I think [P] See Note IV. Chap. xxvi. the
POETIC OF ARISTOTLE. i the fame thing has happened with regard to Poins, in the conclusion of the second part of Henry the Fourth. I shall not defend his moral character against the ingenious author of the Essay on the Dramatic Character of Falstaff; but he is certainly drawn as more of a gentleman than any of the other companions of the prince, with whom he is apparently a particular favorite, as well as I think he is with the poet. In [G] The Merry Wives of Windfor, the chief objection stated by Page to Fenton, (the fine gentleman of the play, and a man of honor,) is his having kept company with the wild prince and Poins, who does not appear in the play, though the other loofe companions of the prince are introduced, with ridicule and difgrace. The Iliad may be faid to fall under the error abovementioned, of being spun out after the catastrophe is compleated (H). Perhaps the Æneid, on the other hand, should have included the marriage of Æneas and Lavinia; for as it is now, it has all the appearance of being unfinished. No ending can be complete that does not entirely fatisfy us as to the final fituation of the principal characters, as far as it arifes from, or is connected with the incidents of the action. The Odyssey would be perfect in this respect if it ended with the twenty-third book. The last book seems superfluous; [G] I am furprized, that in the essay abovementioned, no notice is taken of this comedy. I allow the character of Falstaff is there greatly inferior to the original draught, in the two parts of Henry IV. but though it is a copy, it is still a copy done by the hand of the master himself, and from which his own opinion, as to the character he himself defigned, might be best afcertained; and I think that opinion would be in favor of the hypothefis there supported. In the important business of intriguing, many a brave man has taken a drubbing in disguife. See Note 1. Chap. xv. [H] See Note 1V. Chap. xxvI.
and has been, by many critics, supposed not genuine, but an addition by fome other hand, to make the number of books equal to those of the Iliad. An historical fable has, in this respect, a disadvantage, which is not incident to one entirely invented by the poet. For we are acquainted with fucceeding incidents which may counteract the pleasure we receive from the winding up of the action. This is not found in the unhappy catastrophe, which is generally fatal to the principal characters; but in an action which ends happily, our pleasure must be greatly abated when we know fome terrible disaster is to fucceed the temporary good fortune of the perfons, in whose actions we have been strongly interested. The catastrophe of the battle of Hexham has this defect; and I much doubt if an Athenian, that had just come from the representation of the Ulyffes wounded [1], would receive the fame pleasure that another perfon would, from the conclufion of the Odyffey. M. Leffing, in his Dramaturgie, makes a distinction between the apologue and the epic or dramatic fable, as to the conclufion. In the first, he says, the end is attained as foon as fome moral is enforced, and we trouble ourselves little about the characters afterwards. He applies this to the conclufion of one of Marmontel's tales, and a comedy taken from it, where he mentions the absurdity of calling those compofitions moral tales, and adds, ' unhappily I have never been able to discover their morality. But Les Contes Moreaux have no such pretenfion. They are not meant for tales, illustrating some moral truth, but tales, defcrip- [1] A tragedy, mentioned by Ariftotle, in Chap. XIV. founded, I imagine, on the story of his death from an accidental wound given him by his fon Telegonus. tive
POETIC OF ARISTOTLE. tive of manners; and (K) are very improperly translated moral tales. Unluckily we have no adjective equivalent with the French word moral, unless we use [L] ethic; and I suppose the German has the fame deficiency; but, surely, the mistake might have been noticed in the French tranflation of M. Leffing, through the medium of which alone I am acquainted with that original and penetrating critic. What should we say of the absurdity of a poet, who, after finishing a fable completely, were to add a supplement, destroying the effect of the whole; and yet this M. Rousseau has done, in the sequel to Emilius, published among his posthumous works. As the Emilius is a kind of apologue, to inculcate a peculiar mode of education, such a conduct is like a child's taking great pains to build a house with cards, and then throwing it down again.
7.2.
mvp-aristotle-comment-20
7.7
BEAUTY DEPENDS ON SIZE AS WELL AS SYMMETRY.
ARISTOTLE having, in his definition of tragedy, mentioned [M] the possessing a certain degree of magnitude as one of its essential requifites, now proceeds to explain what he means by magnitude. He first [K] See Andrews's anecdotes. I must acknowledge an error in this point, in my first edition of the Poetic, and my obligation to the Critical Review for remarking it. [L] Those works of Mr. Pope, which, in the earlier editions, were styled ethic epistles, have had their titles fince changed to moral epistles, though they certainly have more relation to manners than morals. [Μ] Μεγέθος ἐχούσης. Aa informs
informs us, that not only a just proportion of parts, but fize also, sufficient to give the eye a power of readily observing that proportion, is essential to beauty: and, as an illustration of this, he mentions a very small animal, (such, I suppose, as an infect,) where the parts are too minute to be observed. After this, left the hypothefis should be carried too far, and beauty should be fuppofsed to encrease always according to fize, he shews, that the fame defect will also arife from extreme magnitude, and the proportion of the parts will equally escape our observation. He then proceeds to apply this to dramatic action, which, he says, will encrease in beauty, according to its magnitude, provided it is not so large, but that the whole may easily be comprehended by the memory; that is, I conceive, that the connexion of the beginning, the middle, and the end, with each other, may be readily perceived and retained. And, left he should be misunderstood, and supposed to be speaking of the actual bulk of the tragedy, he says, in direct terms, that it is nothing to the purpose; for if from the practice of the theatre, the time of reprefentation, and, consequently, the bulk of the piece, should be exactly limited, it has nothing to do with the length of the dramatic fable, whose excellence encreases in proportion to its magnitude, provided it is not too large to be perfpicuous. After this explicit distinction between the time of representation, and the extent of the fable, and which seems to have been made, from a notion that they might be confounded, shall we still be told that Ariftotle directs they ought to be exactly regulated by each other? The general fondness of the Greeks for magnitude in their objects of beauty, is very striking in the examples here brought by Aristotle to illustrate his position. He can find in nature objects too small, but none too large; and he is obliged to have recourse
POETIC OF ARISTOTLE. to an imaginary animal, several miles in length. As for the Greeks esteeming size, and even strength, as requisites to female beauty, the cause is not of very difficult investigation. In the ancient commonwealths, where there was no distinction between the foldier and the citizen; where civil authority could not be enjoyed without military service, nor military service performed without strength of body, the having a strong and vigorous offspring was the first, and, indeed, almost the only object in marriage; for wealth and rank were feldom attainable by matrimonial connections. Among modern nations, in general, these last are the only objects confidered in marriage [N]; and even in this country, where matches of inclination are more frequent, from our great intercourse with women, and their fuperior information and accomplishments, we are attached by a thousand means, which were perfectly unknown to the secluded beauties of Greece. A very elegant critic, it is true [o], says, that beautiful objects are • small.' But though under the word beauty here, (τὸ καλὸν) Ariftotle, undoubtedly, comprehends fublimity as well as beauty, I can by no means entirely agree with the hypothefis of Mr. Burke. Surely a woman of the largest size, justly and elegantly proportioned, with softness and delicacy of countenance, mildness of manner, and eyes ' expressive,' (to use Mr. Burke's own words) ‘of fuch gentle and amiable qualities, as correspond with the softness, smoothness, and delicacy of the outward [N] Anxious to match the generous steed, ، Where strength and swiftness mark the breed, • Regardless of his heir.' Marriage an Ode, anon. [o] Mr. Burke's Enquiry into the Origin of the Sublime and Beautiful, Part 111. fect. 111. Aa 2 ' form,'
' form,' may be more strictly called beautiful, even in the sense of Mr. Burke, than a little piquante brunette, whose lively eyes partake fomething of the δεινὸν, which he confiders as a cause of the fublime [P]. I do not mean that the fize should be extraordinary, any thing unnatural, whether large or small; any tendency to the dwarf, or the giant, can have no pretenfions to the merit (Q) of female beauty. Mr. Burke, indeed, makes the exception as to the dwarf. He says, ' should a per- • fon be found not above two or three feet high, supposing such a person to have all the parts of his (her) body of a delicacy suitable to fuch a size, and otherwife endued with the common qualities of other beau- • tiful bodies, I am pretty well convinced that a person of such a stature might be confidered as beautiful, MIGHT BE THE OBJECT OF LOVE.' It is to be remarked, that the example is a male; if it had been a female, or, being a male, if Mr. Burke had confulted the ladies, perhaps his conviction might not have been quite so strong, especially as to the last position. He adds, however; 'the only thing which could inter- ، pose to check our pleasure is, that such creatures, however formed, are unusual, and are often confidered as fomething monstrous.' ESSAY ON THE SUBLIME AND BEAUTIFUL, Part IV. SECT. XXIV. [P] In this cafe, however, it would not partake of the fublime; for though beauty may be compatible with large objects, fublimity is perfectly incompatible with small ones. [Q] See Note v. Chap. xxvI. CHAP.
8.1.
mvp-aristotle-comment-21
8.1
THE UNITY OF A FABLE DOES NOT DEPEND UPON ITS RELATING TO ONE PERSON ONLY.
THIS by no means implies, that there is [A] no kind of unity in a tale which relates the actions of one perfon only; or, that there is not more uniformity in the works of a biographer than a general historian : though a certain degree of unity of action is necessary even in hiftory to render it perfect [B]. But that a greater degree of unity is necessary in a dramatic action, of which he is now treating, and even in the similar though more extended composition of the epopee. It therefore follows, that all works of fiction that assume an historic, rather than an epic form, are deficient in poetical arrangement. The instances he produces are loft. However, there is no deficiency of examples, both ancient and [A] See Hume's Essay on the Association of Ideas. [B] See Note 11. Chap. xxIIн. The following judicious observation of Mr. Gilpin, will elucidate the difference between the unity of poetry and history. It is, perhaps, ' one of the great errors in painting, (as, indeed, it is in all literary as well as picturesque ' compofition,) to be more attentive to the finishing of parts, than the production of a whole. • Whereas the master's great care should be, first to contrive a whole, and then to adapt the ، parts as artificially as he can. I speak of imaginary landscape: when he paints a real ' view, his management must be just the reverse. He has the parts given him; and he muft • form them into a whole as he can.' REMARKS ON FOREST SCENERY. modern,
modern, fuch as the (c) Cyropædia of Xenophon, the Achilleid of Statius, and Gil Blas [D]. Metastasio is of opinion, that Aristotle has carried the unity of poetic fable too far, when he says nothing can be esteemed a part of it, which cannot be taken away without deranging the whole. But he is obvioufly speaking here of the fimple tragic, and epic action, divested of all their epifodic and ornamental parts; just like the specimen he gives of the Iphigenia in Tauris, and the Odyssey, in the seventeenth chapter. One of the incidents of the Life of Ulyffes, which he mentions as omitted by Homer, ([E] except the reading proposed by Harles is adopted,) is introduced in detail, in the ninth book of the Odyssey; but it is only introduced, to use the words of Mr. Twining, digressively and incidentally, it makes ، no essential part of his general plan.' Aristotle, in another instance, has not [F] been accurate in marking the distinction between the plain fable, and the fable adorned with episodes. If this rule is applied to the inimitable comic epopees of Fielding, and especially to Tom Jones, how many of the essential parts will be found fo wonderfully connected, that even circumftances, apparently the most trifling, have consequences so interwoven with the plot, and fo conducive to the solution of it, that they cannot be taken away, or [c] The principal part, even of this work, is confined to the transactions of one campaign; and it is a doubt if it is fictitious. The facts are certainly altered and embellished; but this is too often the cafe with the ancient hiftorians. [D] See Beattie on Fable and Romance. [E] See Note [B] Chap. VIII. on the tranflation. [F] See Note [1] Chap. xxvI. on the tranflation. altered,
POETIC OF ARISTOTLE. altered, without changing and injuring the whole composition. And yet there are many episodic parts, which, though highly ornamental, may be removed without at all interfering with the general effect of the action. (I [G] do not call the History of the Man of the Hill an episode; it is a separate tale.) That in all fictitious narrative, whose aim is to affect the paffions, the poetical arrangement is naturally and obviously preferable to the historical, may be fairly inferred, from the universal adoption of it by all the novel-writers, good and bad : a description of authors not very likely to be influenced in their choice by the rules of Aristotle. Indeed, the historic form, though it may succeed in humorous compofitions, is almost incompatible with a pathetic tale; fince to be interesting, the circumstances must be particularly related, which would either swell the work to an enormous size, or [H] break it so into parts, as must be difagreeable to every reader. For this reason the extent of the dramatic action is naturally more confined than the epic, both from the interest being stronger [1], and, consequently, its going more into detail, and the division of the fable into parts being more obvious, and on that account more disgusting to the spectator, and hence the unity of time, though not carried to the excess prescribed by the French critics, is a necessary confideration in the drama. Shakespear, it is true, reconciles us to the breach of it; but what modern poet would prefume to follow his example? [G] See Note 1. Chap. xxIII. [H] See Note 11. Chap. xxiv. [1] Note III. Chap. xxvi. CHAP.
9.1.
mvp-aristotle-comment-22
9.2
IF THE WORK OF HERODOTUS WERE PUT INTO VERSE, IT WOULD BE NO LESS A SPECIES OF HISTORY IN VERSE THAN IT IS IN PROSE.
I ACKNOWLEDGE myself to have been one of the many translators, justly blamed by Mr. Twining, for neglecting the force of the expression Ἱςορία τις, a fort, or species of history, and which, in this edition, I have corrected from his observation, which I shall take the liberty of inserting. May we not infer from this expreffion [A], ' that if Ariftotle had been asked whether an epic compofition in profe, ' would be a poem or not, he would have allowed it to be wποίημα τι, a • kind of poem, as having the essence of poetry, invention and imitation ?' To this, however, he would probably have added, that it would only be an imperfect kind of poem, from wanting the ornament of verfification, as the work of Herodotus in verse would be only a spurious kind of history from possessing it. Metastasio has rendered this passage properly; (B) ' it would still ' continue, though in verse, a species of history, as it was in profe.' Yet in his observations, anxious to support the hypothefis he had [A] See Note III. Chap. 1. [B] ' Rimarreble come era in prosa, sempre una specie d'istoria, ancora in verfi.' advanced,
POETIC OF ARISTOTLE. advanced, that poetry was, in any sense, incompatible with prose, and yet finding it impossible to avoid feeing the contrary doctrine was in some measure supported by Aristotle's assertion that it is the conftruction of the fable, and not of the verse, that diftinguishes the poet from the hiftorian, he runs into an unjustifiable refinement on the words and sense of the critic, and says he only means, that a person who writes on unpoetical subjects in verse, is not a good poet: just as we call a man that is awkward, dirty, and cowardly, no foldier, though enlisted, and receiving pay, and really a foldier in the legal and political sense of the word. The fallacy of this argument must strike every one in a variety of instances; and it is, befides, in direct oppofition to the doctrine of Ariftotle, since, on this supposition, verse is the essential requifite of poetry, and imitation only a quality. The sum of Ariftotle's reasoning on the subject, which is directly contrary to the idea of Metaftafio, seems to be this; • Whoever forms a fable, imitative of human ، actions, is a poet, a maker, an inventor. If his fable is ill conducted, ⚫ he is a bad poet. If he writes it in prose, he errs as to the proper material, or means of imitation. But if he forms no imitative fable, ' he is no poet.'
9.2.
mvp-aristotle-comment-23
9.3
POETRY IS THEREFORE MORE PHILOSOPHICAL AND INSTRUC- TIVE THAN HISTORY.
LORD BACON, in his Treatise of the Advancement of Learning, has so good a comment on this passage, that I trust the reader will not be displeased with me for saving him the trouble of referring to it. вь The
[c] • The use of this feigned history hath been to give some shadow ' of fatisfaction to the mind of man in those points, wherein the nature ' of things doth deny it; the world being, in proportion, inferior to ' the foul; by reason whereof there is, agreeable to the spirit of man, " a more ample greatness, a more exact goodness, and a more absolute variety, than can be found in the nature of things. Therefore, because the acts or events of true history have not that magnitude which • satisfieth the mind of man, poesy feigneth acts and events greater, and ، more heroical: because true history propoundeth the successes and • issues of actions not so agreeable to the merits of virtue and vice, there- • fore poefy feigns them more just in retribution, and more according to • revealed providence: because true history representeth actions and events more ordinary, and less interchanged; therefore poesy endueth • them with more rareness, and more unexpected and alternative varia- ' tions: so as it appeareth that poesy serveth and conferreth to magnanimity, morality, and to delectation. And, therefore, it was ever ، thought to have some participation of divineness, because it doth raise ' and erect the mind, by fubmitting the shews of things to the defires ' of the mind; whereas reason doth buckle and bow the mind unto the nature of things.' [c] It must be owned, that an eminent writer of the present day, professes to be of the contrary opinion. The Cyropædia is vague and languid, the Anabasis circumstantial and animated; such is the eternal difference between fiction and truth.' DECLINE AND FALL OF THE ROMAN EMPIRE, Chap. xxiv. Note 115. Some persons will, possibly, be inclined to doubt the infallibility as well as the eternity of this doctrine, and even the comparison that occafioned it; and may doubt whether this eternal distinction between truth and fiction would be easily difcoverable in a comparifon between Homer and Thucydides. We may, however, readily excuse Mr. Gibbon, for his partiality to a species of literature, in which he has shewn fo much excellence. NOTE
9.3.
mvp-aristotle-comment-24
9.4
IN COMEDY, POETS FIRST FORM THE FABLE, AND THEN ADD ANY CASUAL NAMES.
WE have already been shewn, as the first distinction between history and poetry, that one describes the real actions of a particular person, the other fictitious, though probable events that are supposed to happen to an imaginary one. And fuch qualities are to be given to this imaginary person, as will best suit these events, and the part he takes in them; and these qualities are not only to be marked by the action and sentiments, but even the names given to the characters should be expressive of them. It seems, however, that having faid this, the critic recollected, that in tragedy the practice was different: for though the incidents, the manners, and the sentiments, were to be formed on general nature, the names were to be those of real historical persons. In comedy, however, he says, names expressive of the quality of the character are used. And, indeed, by this contrivance, the inconvenience attending comedy, mentioned in the fragment, quoted in Note 1. Chap. VII. is, in great measure, obviated. For if the quality of the tragic person is known as foon as his name is announced from recollection, the fame thing will happen in comedy, if such characteristic appellations are given as Pamphilus, or Parmeno, Dapperwit, or Wellbred. Steele, however, in the first number of his paper, called The Lover, intended as a kind of sequel to the Spectator, makes the following observation on this practice. • I shall shun also names significant of the person's • character of whom I talk; a trick used by playwrights, which I have Bb 2 long
، long thought no better a device than of underwriting the name of an • animal on a poft, which the painter conceived too delicately drawn to • be known by common eyes, or by his delineation of the limbs.' It is remarkable, than in this identical paper, an old bachelor is called Wildgoose; and, in the next, the supposed author of the work, the Lover, is named Marmaduke Myrtle. Indeed, the mixture of characteristic names with common ones, though very abfurd, is not unusual. In the Jealous Wife we meet with Mr. and Mrs. Oakly, Sir Harry Beagle, and Terence Ocutter: and, in its archetype Tom Jones, Allworthy stands alone among an hoft of common names. Another impropriety often attends characteriftic names in modern comedy, from the husband and wife having the fame name; in confequence of this a very quiet nobleman, in one of Congreve's comedies, is called Lord Touchwood; and this impropriety is still greater when the characters of the husband and wife are particularly contrafted as to their conduct to each other. Where is the propriety of Mrs. Bruin, and Mrs. Sneak, in the Mayor of Garrat? In Mr. Cumberland's Observer, there is a very well conducted and interesting fable, where the principal person, from his indolence of disposition, is called Ned Drowsy. This gentleman, like Cymon, is entirely altered by falling in love, and he becomes a very spirited and active young man. His name, therefore, ceafing to be expressive of his character, the poet is obliged to change it by an application to parliament. The introducing a kind of pun on the characteristic name given by the author, one should conceive the lowest effort of dulness to excite a laugh, and yet it is practised by respectable writers; as for example: in the Provoked Husband, Manly says to Sir Francis, O thou head of the wrong- ' heads.' Of all writers, Mr. Anstey has made the most happy use of characteristic names in the Bath Guide. They really contribute greatly to
POETIC OF ARISTOTLE. to the humour of a poem, which draws it, besides, from a thousand different fources. On the Greek theatre, the comic scene, like the tragic, was always laid at home. Indeed, it could be laid no where else. They knew the manners of no other people. Terence adopted Athenian manners from Menander; and Moliere, in many of his pieces, from Terence. The whole interest of L'Etourdi turns on the purchase of a flave. Our older comedies are generally founded on foreign stories. The only comedy of Shakespear, where the scene is laid in England, (except the comic parts of his historical plays), is The Merry Wives of Windfor. The fame remark is, in general, applicable to Beaumont and Fletcher. A [D] Spanish story, with some English characters introduced, was, for a confiderable time, much the fashion here, and is still a favorite fubject for the musical drama. The regular comedy, at present, I believe, confines itself to domeftic fable and character, if not to domeftic scene; for, I believe, the comic muse has ventured to cross both the Indian and Atlantic Oceans, to visit our colonies. [D] I would recommend to those critics who think they can explain every passage in the ancient dramatic writers, to turn their thoughts to the following speech, in one of Dryden's comedies, which, to me, has always been perfectly unintelligible. It is in the Mock Astrologer, where a Spanish character, refusing to enter into a scheme as inconfiftent with his honor, an Englishman says to him, Nay, and you talk of honor; by your leave, Sir, I hate your Spanish honor ever since it spoiled our English plays WITH FACES ABOUT, AND < T'OTHER SIDE.' ، NOTE
9.4.
mvp-aristotle-comment-25
9.5
IN TRAGEDY, THE NAMES OF PERSONS WHO HAVE REALLY EXISTED ARE RETAINED.
BESIDES the reason given by Aristotle for this, there was another very essential one on the Grecian stage. History, in the time of Sophocles and Euripides, was much confined. The Greeks confidered all nations but themselves as barbarians. A king of Scythia would have been confidered as an improper character for a tragic hero on their theatre; and to kings, and great public characters, the tragic muse of Greece was confined.
Reges atque tetrarchas HOR. • Omnia magna loquens.'- We, befides the private life tragedy, and the obfcure ages of antiquity, with which we may take what liberty we please, have an ample fource of domestic fiction in the Saxon heptarchy, where we may form imaginary Ofwalds and Edgars ufurpers, or kings of Mercia and Northumberland at our pleasure; but the history of the fabulous ages of Greece was the most popular of any. It was, indeed, confecrated as the origin of the national religion; and the introduction of a new hero, or demigod, would have been esteemed a fort of profanation. Admitting the rule, that public events, are the only proper objects of tragic imitation, the reasoning of Le Pere Brumoy is perfectly just. • It is not probable that events of such magnitude as those of tragedy, * events which can only happen in the palaces of kings, or the bosom • of
• of empires, should be absolutely unknown. If then, the poet invents • all his subject, even as far as the names, the mind of the spectators ' will revolt, all will appear incredible, and the piece will fail in its • effect for want of probability.
9.5.
mvp-aristotle-comment-26
9.9
EVEN IF THE POEM IS FOUNDED ON REAL FACTS, THE AUTHOR MAY YET BE A POET; SINCE THERE IS NO REASON WHY MANY EVENTS THAT HAVE REALLY HAPPENED, MAY NOT BE CAPABLE OF THAT GENERAL PROBABILITY AND POSSIBILITY, FROM THE PROPER ARRANGEMENT OF WHICH HE MAY JUSTLY BE ESTEEMED A POET.
. TO explain this clearly, it will be necessary to go a little back. We have seen Aristotle has declared general and probable fiction, and not particular fact, to be the proper subject of poetry. But he is asked, is the falfhood of the action absolutely necessary? Can no real event have interest enough to form a tragedy, when most of the subjects of the Greek tragedies are taken from history? To this the critic answers, no doubt there are many real and particular events, that have all the general probability necessary for a poetic fable. Another objection immediately occurs. If the tragic writer only clothes facts, prepared to his hands, in ornamented language, how can he be esteemed a poet, wanting the efssential requisite of the poetical character, invention? To this he replies, there is no real event that has not fome circumftances connected with it, discordant with the [E] general emotions it is on the [E] See Note 1. Chap. VI. See also Note 11. Chap. xiv. and Note 1v. Chap. xvii. whole
whole calculated to excite. And real situations, the most congenial with tragic effect, are often capable of being heightened by additional touches of art; and the different parts may frequently be made more closely and naturally dependent on each other than they in fact are. To fupply these deficiencies, and to arrange all the incidents, so as to produce their fullest effect, is the office of the poet, and which, if well performed, fully entitles the author to that appellation [F]. The tragedy of Oroonoko is faid to be formed on a real fact. Nevertheless, as Southern has encreased the interest strongly, by heightening the circumstances, inventing pathetic situations, elevating the characters, and making Imoinda an European, he certainly is justly entitled to the character of poet. Many dramas are founded on fictitious narration, where one should imagine invention would have still less to add: but who will refuse the name of poet to the author of King Lear? [F] The connexion of events often escapes our observation in nature, for want of ◄ knowing the whole combination of the circumstances; in real facts we only fee an acci- ، ' dental concurrence of things; but the poet wishes to shew, in the texture of his work, an apparent and sensible connexion; so that if though he is really less true, he has more the • appearance of truth than the historian.' DIDEROT. NOTE
9.6.
mvp-aristotle-comment-27
9.10
OF SIMPLE FABLES AND ACTIONS, THE EPISODIC ARE THE WORST.
I OWN I do not fee the impropriety of this obfervation, or of Dacier's explanation of it, in the light Mr. Twining does. It is obvious, that the fault of lengthening the fable, or rather the bulk of the piece, by episodes, was much more likely to be incident to a simple than a complicated action, and from the fimplicity of the action, more blameable as more obvious to the observation, and more likely to throw the principal action into the shade. Every difficulty would be obviated, if this paragraph were removed from the place where it now stands to the end of the next chapter. It would naturally follow the definition of the simple action, and its distinction from that which is complicated; whereas it is, in this place, little connected either with the preceding or the following paragraph: and besides, there seems an impropriety in pointing out a defect of the simple fable, before we are told what a simple fable is. But with the arrangement of the parts of this irregular work, I profess not to meddle. Cc NOTE
9.7.
mvp-aristotle-comment-28
9.11
THOSE OBJECTS WILL BE PRINCIPALLY ATTAINED, IF THE EVENTS HAPPEN CONTRARY TO EXPECTATION, AND YET ARE CONSEQUENCES OF EACH OTHER.
WERE transposition my object, I should certainly detach also the paragraph, of which this is a part, to the end of the next chapter, of the concluding sentence of which it is a compleat illustration; shewing what ought to be attempted in the complicated action, as the fentence, noticed in the last obfervation, shews what ought to be avoided in the fimple action. But wherever it should be placed, the rule itself is strictly founded on truth and nature; and of which, more will be faid when we come to analyze the catastrophe of tragedy [G]. [G] See Note VII Chap. XIII. CHAP.
10.1.
mvp-aristotle-comment-29
10.2
I CALL THAT A SIMPLE ACTION WHICH HAS THE TRANSITION OF FORTUNE, WITHOUT PERIPETIA OR DISCOVERY.
ARISTOTLE here plainly diftinguishes between the peripetía, (περιπέτεια), the fudden and unexpected revolution of fortune, which is peculiar to the complicated action, and the μετάβασις, or change from misery to happiness, or vice-versa, which is not only common to every species of tragedy, but to every affecting tale, whether dramatic or narrative, serious or comic. The first of these, the peripetía, as Mr. Twining justly observes, is not to be found in Othello; nor, I think, in Lear, as written by Shakespear, whose misfortunes go on in regular fucceffion from their first cause, his obstinacy and self-opinion. The change of fortune arifes from the alteration of the conduct of his daughters; but this cannot be called fudden or unexpected, since it is foreseen by all the perfons of the drama, except the old king. I believe modern dramas have oftener the fimple than the complicated action, as our tragic distresses arise more from manners and paffion, than incident. See Note III. CC 2 CHAP.
11.1.
mvp-aristotle-comment-30
11.1
PERIPETI΄Α.
THE peripetía, according to the definition of Ariftotle, does not only mean a fudden and violent revolution of fortune, but a revolution brought about by means, apparently likely to produce a contrary effect. Of this revolution, from happiness to mifery, the Edipus, produced here as an example by Ariftotle, is the most perfect instance of any I know, ancient or modern; the expected means of his vindication affording the cleareft proof of his guilt. As for the contrary example, though we have the out-line of the story, the tragedy being loft, we are ignorant with what art the incidents were arranged, to produce the peripetía as described by the critic. On the modern theatre, the tragedy which ends unhappily, has seldom, if ever, a peripetía; for the tragedies of the present day begin with tears : the change of fortune which interests us in the course of the action, arifes from tranfient gleams of hope scattered through the piece, which deepen the succeeding distress that attends their disappointment, as in Venice Preferved, Douglas, and Tancred and Sigifmunda. In this last tragedy, Thomson, in compliance with custom introduces Sigifmunda deeply afflicted with prophetic, or if you will, imaginary horror, though she has the certain profpect of the possession of a throne with the man she loves, at the conclufion
POETIC OF ARISTOTLE. i i conclufion of the first act. Indeed, if inftead of deriving the catastrophe from manners and paffion, and cutting the gordian knot at last by the fword of the dying Ofmond; the distress had turned entirely on the forgery of Tancred's confent to fulfil the king's will, and that circumftance had been the hinge on which the catastrophe had turned, instead of a fubordinate circumftance in the second act: the tragedy of Tancred and Sigifmunda would have furnished a complete instance of this species of peripetía. Another reason for the want of peripetía in our tragedies that end with distress, is affigned in the last note. Probability is not violated by the most extraordinary revolution of events, but a fudden change of paffions and manners is utterly improbable. Of the unexpected reverse of fortune, from evil to good, we have innumerable instances: the most striking I recollect, is in the fourth act of the Merchant of Venice. The deliverance of Antonio arifes from Portia, just in the moment he is expected to fuffer from her confirmation of the claim of Shylock.
11.2.
mvp-aristotle-comment-31
11.4
THE DISCOVERY, AS THE NAME IMPLIES, IS A TRANSITION FROM IGNORANCE TO KNOWLEDGE.
THIS species of dramatic incident, [A] which, like the foregoing, and for the fame reason, is, among us, confined to tragedy with a happy [A] For further observations on the discovery, see note IV, chap. XIV, and notes on chap. XVI. paffim. catastrophe =
catastrophe and comedy, was a great favorite with our earlier writers, but is seldom used by modern poets; probably from the difficulty of continuing the disguise with probability as to the other persons of the drama; or in regard to the audience, without keeping a principal character, (for of such only can an interesting discovery confift,) too long in obscurity, and facrificing too much to a single surprising situation, which will lofe much of its effect after the first representation. Can any thing be more absolutely improbable than that a daughter should be disguised from her father, and a woman from her lover, by being in men's cloaths? [B] and yet this is the case of Rofalind in As You Like It, where, from Orlando's fictitious courtship of Rofalind, though in difguise, and from the likeness being observed, both by him [c] and the duke, the improbability is still rendered more striking. As to the disguising the principal character from the audience, it appears a useless refinement, and was seldom practised by the ancients. In Shakespear also, Rosalind, Imogen, Viola, Julia, the Duke in [B] There must have been a peculiar improbability attending this kind of disguise, on which fo many of the plays of Shakespear, and Beaumont and Fletcher turn, from all the female characters being performed by men, an offence against probability when in a female habit; but for a man, in his own cloaths, to act a beautiful princess (Imogen, for instance) is perfectly inconsistent with the least shadow of it. See note Iv.. chap. XIII. [C] DUKE SEN. ' I do remember in this shepherd boy • Some lively touches of my daughter's favour. ORLA. • My lord, the first time that I ever saw him, ، Methought he was a brother to your daughter.. • But, my good lord, this boy is foreft born.' Meafure
POETIC OF ARISTOTLE. Measure for Measure, are all known to the spectators. Massei and Voltaire have chosen to conceal Eghistus from the theatre, as well as from his mother, in Merope; but in this they have not only deviated from the tragedy of Euripides [D] but destroyed the striking effect described by Plutarch, which was plainly derived from their relation to each other being known to the spectators. One of the best instances I know, of a principal character being concealed to the audience through the whole of the action, and yet taking his proper share in it, is in the Bondman of Maffinger. There is a very good instance of it also in the comedy of Seduction, by Mr. Holcroft.
11.3.
mvp-aristotle-comment-32
11.5
THE DISCOVERY IS MOST BEAUTIFUL WHEN ACCOMPANIED BY THE PERIPETÍA.
DACIER has laid it down as a rule, that a discovery cannot be made the principal fubject of a drama; which is strongly combated by Metaftafio. Of this fanciful opinion of Dacier, which he derives from a passage in the preceding chapter, that very passage compared with this, is, in my idea, the clearest confutation; at least, as far as the fentence of Aristotle is decisive. He there says, the tranfition of fortune;' (ἡ μεθάβασις) that is, the change from happiness to misery, or the contrary, which must be the principal object, or the catastrophe of the fable, ⚫ in complicated actions, is effected by the means of peripetía, or disco- [D] See note IV. chap. XIV. very,
، very, or both; and he here says, that is preferable which is effected by the union of both; where the catastrophe arifes from the peripetía, caused by a discovery. In the Merope of Massei and Voltaire, the discovery is not accompanied by the peripetía. On the contrary, the distress is confiderably encreased by it: I doubt much if such was the arrangement of the Crefphontes of Euripides.
11.4.
mvp-aristotle-comment-33
11.9
THE PATHOS, IS THAT PART OF THE ACTION WHICH IS EITHER FATAL OR PAINFUL; SUCH AS DEATHS EXHIBITED ON THE STAGE, OR TORTURES, OR WOUNDS, OR OTHER THINGS OF THAT NATURE.
FROM this definition of the pathos, it is manifest that the rule, fo much infifted on by the French critics, never to stain the theatre with blood, (de ne pas enfanglanter le theatre,) is neither derived from the school of Ariftotle, nor the practice of the Greek tragedians. It seems to have arifen from a precept of Horace, as I think, ill understood, [E] • Nec pueros coram populo Medea trucidet.' It is to the improbability, not the cruelty, that Horace objects. [F] 'INCREDULUS odi.' [E] 'Nor let Medea, in the people's fight, < Her infants murder.'- [F] Almost every tranflator gives this as the sense, 'It is both incredible and disgusting, but the literal meaning is, 'It disgusts because it is incredible.' Not, I hate to fee, and never can believe.' But, 'Not believing, I deteft to fee.' RoscoM. I do
POETIC OF ARISTOTLE. I do not conceive 'coram populo' to allude to the spectators, but the chorus. This will be illustrated by comparing the management of Euripides with that of Seneca in this identical instance. In Euripides, Medea kills her children behind the scenes, and the chief person of the chorus naturally exclaims, [G] The house I'll enter, and attempt to save • The children from destruction.' In [H] Seneca, Medea kills one of her children in the prefence of the chorus, without their making any observations on it; and on the entry of Jason she snatches the other up into her chariot, and deliberately [1] [G] Παρέλθω δόμους, αρῆξαι φόνον Δοκει μὸι τέχνοις. murders [H] As Seneca was subsequent to Horace, it could not be his play that Horace means to censure: but, probably, Seneca borrowed his arrangement of the catastrophe from fome other Greek tragedy, or from the Medea of Ennius. [1] Perhaps from the perpetration of this shocking crime, the strongest possible proof may be drawn of the force of custom over the most powerful feelings of nature. The deftruction of children, by their parents was so common at Athens, that, if we may judge of Menander, by Terence, even on the comic stage, the question, whether a child shall be reared or expofed, was treated as a common domestic confideration. An author, well acquainted with human life, though not inclinable to fee it on the faireft fide, has fome just observations on the commiffion of this crime in modern times, which he imputes to the fear of shame and disgrace, and their inevitable attendant, ruin and want, overcoming natural affection. (Fable of the Bees, Remark C.) How far, in a state of civil fociety, it is justifiable to place a person in the cruel alternative, of chusing either a shameful death or a life of infamy, I shall not attempt to determine. But of this cruel alternative, the makers of law can have no idea. The father and mother, whose happiness depends on a favourite child, and who watch over its fafety with an anxiety hardly to be conceived, cannot enter into the fenfations of a wretch, who knows her new-born infant is her greatest enemy, the destroyer Dd of
murders it in the face of the chorus and all the surviving persons of the drama. Of such an arrangement, the critic may well fay, ، Quodcunque oftendis mihi SIC incredulus odi.' The Bishop of Worcester, in his note on this verse, is of the same opinion as to the impropriety with which Seneca has conducted his play, and quotes a passage from Quintilian, to shew that the Medea of Ovid • had fome of the vices here charged on Seneca.' • The Medea of Ovid," he says, ' feems to me, to shew how much that writer could have excel- • led, if he had chosen rather to moderate his genius than indulge it [к]." It must be observed, that though Quintilian MAY mean to speak of the inequality of this tragedy, it appears more likely, that he compares this tragedy with his other works. For if he only speaks of the fertility of his genius, and his intemperance in the general indulgence of it, while particular parts shew his power of regulating it, it is equally applicable to all his works. Apply the passage to Dryden, and let the exception be his ode on Cecilia's day, and observe if there would be any impropriety in using the exact words of Quintilian. of all her hopes, the author of her utter ruin. The same woman who, in this situation, may have acted the part of Medea, might be capable, in a happier situation, to have facrificed her life to save her infant. Justice, perhaps, however, must punish deliberate acts of this kind when, like other crimes, clearly proved; but to make a defire to escape shame, a proof of murder, is a law that would have disgraced the code of Draco. See 21 Jac. I. ch. 27. which makes the concealment of the child's death almost conclusive evidence of its being murdered by the mother. [K] Ovidii Medea, videtur mihi oftendere, quantum vir ille præftare potuit, si ingenio • suo temperare quam indulgere, maluiffet.' It
POETIC OF ARISTOTLE. It is curious to observe, as a proof of candid criticism, how an ingenious man will contrive to bend an ancient writer to support his own hypothesis. Bossu, in his Essay on the Epopee, L. II. page 258. says, • Horace orders, even in tragedy, that incidents, too marvellous, such • as the change of Progne into a bird, or Cadmus into a ferpent, should • be kept from the view of the spectators.' Not mentioning a word of Medea, and even omitting the line in question, in a quotation of the passage at the bottom of the page. But in the fame book of his work, page 282, he says, ' certain actions are unfit for representation, either • from being too horrible, as a mother who kills her own children, or • the change of a human creature into a bird or a ferpent.' And here he quotes the passage of Horace entire. How little the Grecian stage was accustomed to this delicacy of the French, a perusal of its tragedies will fufficiently shew [L]. The exhibition of a dead body appears to have been a favorite spectacle with the Athenians. The death of Ajax has always been confidered as an instance of a character killing himself on the stage. But this has been lately combated by the Abbé Barthelemi in his Travels of the younger Anacharfis [M]. Several modern critics,' he says, 'have imagined, that in the tragedy • of Sophocles, Ajax kills himself with his sword, in the prefence of the spectators. They bring the authority of the scholiaft, who observes, [L] And these are now open to the English reader, through the elegant and liberal, yet accurate translations, of Mr. Potter and Mr. Francklin. [M] See his note, chap. LXXI, ' fur le lieu de la scene ou Ajax se tuoit,' Dd 2 ' that
書 A COMMENTARY ON THE ⚫ that the characters seldom kill themselves on the stage (N). I think ' that the rule has not been violated in the present instance. To fatisfy ، ، ، ، ، us of this, it is only neceffary to follow the thread of the action. ، The chorus being informed that Ajax was not in his tent [o] go out on both fides of the theatre to feek him, and bring him back [P]. The • hero appears again on the stage, and, after an affecting soliloquy, he throws himself on the point of a sword, whose hilt he had previously fixed in the ground [2]. The chorus return [R], and while they are complaining of the ill success of their search, they hear the cries of Tecmessa, who had found the body of her husband [s], and they advance to see the dreadful spectacle (T). It is not therefore on the stage that Ajax kills himself.' I do not know if I am influenced by a partiality to my own opinion, but I think the circumftances mentioned by M. Barthelemi, as the support of his hypothefis, are a confirmation of mine. And that Sophocles, meaning to exhibit the death of Ajax on the fstage, was obliged to violate a fundamental rule of the Grecian drama, and send off the chorus merely to avoid the improbability of such an act being performed, coram populo;' before the people of Salamis, who formed the chorus. To obviate, however, the charge of prejudice, either in favor of my own opinion or the custom of the British theatre, whose blood and blank [N] Schol. Sophoc. in Ajac. v. 826.' [o] Ajac. Soph. v. 805.' [P] Ibid. v. 824.' [Q] 'Ibid. v. 826.' [R] Ibid. v. 877. [s] Ibid. v. 900.' [T] 'Ibid. v. 924, 1022. verse
POETIC OF ARISTOTLE. verse has been proverbially censured by some delicate critics, I shall appeal to the judgement of a writer who must be impartial, Metaftafio; a poet in a species of the drama, whose delicacy is even more faftidious in this than the French, and which does not allow the unhappy catastrophe. Though he does not himself approve the introduction of fuch spectacles, he cannot shut his eyes to their appearance on the Greek theatre. Among many other examples of their not adhering to the imaginary rule, 'di non infanguinar la scena,' he cites the incident before us. • Is not the stage stained with blood, when Ajax throws him- • self on a drawn sword, with the hilt fixed in the ground for that pur- ، pose? Let the critics torment themselves as much as they please, to prove that Ajax does not kill himself in the fight of the audience, they can never absolutely deny that long scenes pass, after the blow, round • his body, transfixed and visible, fince his wife Tecmessa, his brother Teucer, and all the chorus, lament over it, cover it, uncover it, and ' lift it from the ground, to which it had, in a manner, been nailed, and ' from which place it could not have before been moved, and the visible ، place of representation always continues the fame.' If Ajax does not kill himself on the stage, he must be supposed to speak his dying foliloquy behind the scene. But a confideration of the form of the ancient theatre will, I think, reconcile every apparent contradiction. We are told by Julius Pollux, that the entrance of the principal character was always from the front of the stage, which, in tragedy, [u] was the portico of a palace, while the inferior characters entered or went [u] See note v, chap. vi. out
out on the fides, not, I prefume, at right angles with the front scene as on the modern theatre, but diagonally. For in comedy, where the scene represented streets, characters frequently are produced as seen by the spectators, though not by each other (x). A thing often attempted on the modern stage, but always, from the shape of our theatre, attended with some degree of improbability. Now Ajax had fixed his sword, we will suppose, under the portico, nearly at the bottom of the stage; and, after his last speech, threw himself on it in full view of the audience; the chorus returning from each fide could not fee either the body, or Tecmessa, who, entering from the front, must necessarily find the body, round which, all the circumstances mentioned by Metastasio take place in view of the audience; or, otherwife, all must pass behind the scene, that is faid by Teucer, Tecmessa, and the chorus, from the falling on the sword, ver. 876, till the entrance of Menelaus, v. 1066, who forbids their moving the body, just, it seems, as they are going to take it up; and, particularly, orders them to let it remain as it is [v]. Whether this practice of killing on the stage, which was carried to such excess by our old writers, but which is now used with greater moderation, is really a beauty or a fault, is another question. The fud- [x] Mr. Saunders, in his Treatise on Theatres, page 70, speaking of the theatre at Imola, proposes a plan for obviating this disadvantage on the modern stage. It would be injustice to mention this work without acknowledging the information, as well as amusement, I have received from the perusal of it. [1] Οῦτος σὲ φωνῶ τόνδε τὸν νεκρὸν χεροῖν Μὴ συνκομιζεῖν, αλλ' ΕΑΝ ΟΠΩΣ ΕΧΕΙ. den,
POETIC OF ARISTOTLE. den, and sometimes, unexpected blow, as when Othello kills himself, or as when Euphrasia stabs Dionyfius in the Grecian Daughter, has, certainly, a very fine theatrical effect; and the dying agonies of a Siddons, or a Garrick, were truly affecting. But a stage, heaped with dead bodies, panting from the exertion of the preceding scene, is likely to excite other emotions than those of pity and terror. I should imagine the general stabbing scene, in [z] Titus Andronicus, if represented, would hardly be less risible than the catastrophe of Tom Thumb. [z] It has often been a subject of wonder, how this monftrous farce has held its place in all the editions of Shakespear. I cannot think he wrote a line in it, though if, as Theobald fuggefts, it appeared before Shakespear wrote for the stage, two verses in it pleased him so well, that he has twice closely imitated them. • She is a woman, therefore may be woo'd; • She is a woman, therefore may be won.' T. ANDRON. • She's beautiful, and therefore to be woo'd; She is a woman, therefore to be won.' Ift Part HEN. VI. ، Was ever woman in this humour woo'd? Was ever woman in this humour won?" RICHARD III. CHAP.
12.1.
mvp-aristotle-comment-34
12.4
THE PROLOGUE.
THE prologue of the ancient tragedy was a very different thing from that which goes under its name on the modern stage. It was, in fact, the opening of the piece. We have already mentioned how awkwardly this is often managed with us, and how inartificially by the Greeks [A]. Generally one of the characters, sometimes a god, and sometimes a ghost, as that of Polydore in Hecuba [B] relates to the audience (not to the fictitious dramatic audience, for the first entry of the chorus was usually with the parode, [c] but directly to the spectators) all the preceding circumstances necessary to let them into the story of the drama. [A] Note I, chapter VII. [B] This practice of the Greek tragedies is ridiculed with some humour, in a parody by Lloyd, on the opening of the Electra. I a gentleman did wed, › The lady I would never bed, • Great Agamemnon's royal daughter, • Who coming hither to draw water.' [c] Mr. Warton forgot this circumstance, when he blamed Milton for opening Comus by a foliloquy spoken in a forest. See Mr. Twining's note on the word parode. Difficult
POETIC OF ARISTOTLE. Difficult as the task is to open a drama well, like other difficulties the greater glory attends its being overcome, as it has often been by our good dramatic writers. Milton has opened both his dramatic poems in the ancient manner, and among the subjects suited to the drama of which he has left short sketches, he proposes that the tragedy of Macbeth should be opened by Duncan's ghost. Milton did not prefer this mode from any deficiency, or, at least, any distrust in his powers, but from his ftrong partiality to the ancients. How he would have fucceeded, had he chosen the more natural, though difficult mode of the moderns it is impoffible to say; we can only observe, that the fame person has never yet excelled in the drama and the epopee, congenial as they appear to be [D]. It is certainly lucky for his poetical character that he did not enter the lifts with Shakespear in Macbeth, according to the method he has proposed. That Milton, great as his poetical merit is, could have ever fucceeded in competition with that prodigy of human genius in any thing except learning and correctness I can hardly believe; but I am fure the claffic ghost of Duncan would have started, like a guilty thing,' amid the gothic machinery of Shakespear. It is something curious to trace the progreffion of the fame attending this father of our drama. In his own time he appears to have been a univerfal favorite. Indeed he could not have been otherwise. His faults were all committed to comply with the taste of the age when he wrote, and his beauties are such as must delight every age, and every taste for whom the beauties of truth and nature, unadorned by meretricious ornament, have charms. Both his merits and his defects therefore were popular, though probably the last most. He did not however escape [D] See the concluding note of this work. Ee the
the envy of his rivals. Beaumont and Fletcher, whose excellencies are so far inferior, and whose farcical irregularities are so much more glaring, (for there is no incident in Shakespear so absurd as the arming [E] Demetrius. Poliorcetes with a pistol,) and whose indecencies are so disgusting, have more than once levelled a fatiric blow at his fame. And Jonson, the pedantic Jonson, has sometimes censured him obliquely, and sometimes praised him fuperciliously, not as a writer by any means equal to himself, or likely to become his rival in dramatic fame; but in the way a Cramer, or a Haydn, might be supposed to speak of a wonderful musical ruftic, who, without musical education, was able to bring some wild founds out of a violin. Something in the same manner he is spoken of by Milton. But there is a heavier charge against Him in regard to Shakespear. In his Eiconoclastes there is a passage • That fullies even his brightest lays, • And blasts the vernal bloom of half his bays.' Like all other cenfure of the fame kind it misses the intended mark, and recoils on the author; and we are not inclined to think the worse of the unfortunate and misguided Charles because, we are told that Mr. William Shakespear was the closet companion of his folitudes. As the age improved in false refinement, and the opinion of the French critics prevailed, Shakespear became more out of fashion with those who affected polite literature, and to be admirers of the ancients, till Rhymer, and the superficial and pedantic Shaftsbury, at last boldly stept forth and [B] In the humourous Lieutenant.. See note 1, chap. xxiv. condemned
POETIC OF ARISTOTLE. condemned him and his works to oblivion. Still, however, this doctrine was too refined for the people, it was caviar to the million, and Shakespear was yet popular. The theatre, to please both the learned and the unlearned, got the plays of Shakespear cut down as much as poffible to the Grecian, or rather the modern fashion, and the stage was glutted with alterations of the plays of Shakespear. At length English criticism grew too strong for French support, and ventured to walk alone. From that moment Shakespear has boasted an encreasing fame; and at this time, when the classics are more universally studied and really understood here, than in any other age or nation, when they are criticised without prejudice, and admired without pedantry, his works are as much idolized by his countrymen, as the poems of Homer were in the time of Aristotle. At present, however, the dramas of Shakespear are more known in the closet than on the theatre. (F) Our dramatic taste seems to have [F] Perhaps this may be accounted for, in great measure, from our want of capital actors, I mean in tragedy; we have many excellent comedians. The power of representing the characters of Shakespear fell with Garrick. From the same source we may derive the prevalence of the musical drama; we have fingers though we have not actors. But that we are not insensible to the excellence of acting when we meet with it, is obvious from the reception of Mrs. Siddons. Strong as the tafte for the musical drama is at present, no finger that ever yet came from Italy could support herself on the stage, through successive seasons, as that unrivalled tragic actress has done, even with better afsistance than those who have acted with her. She alone acted, for several winters, against the opera, and what is still more, against the fashionable hours of the metropolis, and always to crouded houses. 'The degree in which she singly interested the public in the tragic scene, is a circumstance creditable to the English taste. But the dramas of Shakespear cannot be supported by an actress however excellent. Women's characters written for boys to act, can never afford fufficient exercise for the foul-subduing powers of Mrs. Siddons. Ee 2 funk
funk with Garrick. The musical drama has ufurped the province both of Thalia and Melpomene; and we have lately seen one of his most entertaining plays exhibited on the stage as an opera. What would the haughty Jonson have thought of the prophet who had told him that in an age of learning, the works of Shakespear would be in universal estimation, while his own were hardly talked of, and never read. I cannot think even that Milton could eafily have imagined that among a people well versed in polite and classic literature, the [G] stuff of Mr. William Shakespear would be preferred to Comus and the Sampfon Agonistes. The genius of Garrick seems to have been particularly calculated to introduce Shakespear on the stage. He knew how to alter him so as to fit him for the audience of the present day without divesting him of any of his excellencies, and the few additions he has ventured are in the spirit of the original. These plays so altered are likely to keep poffeffion of the theatre, while every other attempt at change and improvement are forgotten, except Cibber's Richard III. and Tate's Lear, which, with fome correction of Mr. Garrick, are still acted, though the alteration of the last is directly in oppofition to the precepts of the Stagirite and Mr. Addison [H]. Cibber, though versed in the province of the drama, (which is, perhaps essential to make a good dramatic writer, fince the knowledge of stage effect is of great confequence,) poffefssed a genius not above [G] 'Other stuff of this fort may be read throughout the tragedy.' (Richard the Third.) [H] See note VII, chap. XIII. EICONOCLASTES. medi-
POETIC OF ARISTOTLE. mediocrity; and Tate was a very indifferent poet. Yet there is a line in Cibber's Richard, written by himself so characteristic of the manner of his archetype that I have often heard it cited as one of Shakespear's beauties. I mean the exclamation of Richard on Buckingham' sbeing taken, • Off with his head! So much for Buckingham.' And I heard Lord Chatham (then Mr. Pitt) quote the following verse of Tate in the House of Commons; undoubtedly taking it for Shakespear's, • Where the gor'd battle bleeds in every vein.' To return from this long digression to the immediate object of the note. The modern prologue seems to derive its origin immediately from the Roman Comedy. The prologues of Terence are very much like those of the present day, alluding to such temporary subjects as relate to the drama, and containing a kind of apology for the new piece. We are not certain whether this practice of the Romans was copied from the comic theatre of Athens, as we have only fragments of their middle and new comedy, but from the known resemblance of Terence to Menander we have reason to suppose it was.
12.2.
mvp-aristotle-comment-35
12.5
THE EPISODE, OR ACT.
THIS part of the drama comprehends every thing contained between the odes of the chorus. That is in fact all the piece except the prologue, which precedes the first ode; and the exode, which succeeds、 the last. The intervals of the representation, and confequently the number
number of acts, depend on the number of these odes, which is different in different tragedies, and varies from three to seven. It is impoffible to read a Greek tragedy, without seeing the abfurdity of those critics who have tried to reduce all those dramas to five acts in obedience to the EX POST FACTO law of Horace. • Neve minor, neu fit quinto productior actu 'Fabula.'
• Let not your play have fewer acts than five, Nor more.' COLMAN. Metastafio observes on this subject that ' in Horace's time the • Romans were accustomed to five acts, and to four rests or intervals. • And Horace very reasonably supposed that a poet would hazard the • success of his drama, however perfect, if he tried to bring the audience ، ، to a custom different from that which prevailed in the public theatres at the time when he wrote. If Horace had written his Art of Poetry forty years before, he would probably have recommended the divi- • fion of the drama into three acts, for the fame reason that forty years • after he advised it to be made in five. For in an epistle of Cicero to his brother Quintus it appears evident that the public dramas were ⚫ then commonly divided into three, and not five acts. [1] " Before I con- [1] Illud te ad extremum et oro et hortor ut tanquam poetæ boni et actores industrii < folent, fic tu in extremâ parte et conclusione muneris ac negotii tui, diligentiffimus fis; ut ' hic tertius annus imperii tui, tanquam tertius actus, perfectissimus & ornatiffimus videatur.' CIC. EP. AD QUINT. FRUT. L. I. EP. I. IN FINE. Perhaps, however it may not be difficult to reconcile this passage of Tully with the rule of Horace if we look to the Latin tragedies. Those of Seneca have each four choral odes, dividing the piece into five acts. And yet, according to the pofition of Aristotle, as those only
POETIC OF ARISTOTLE. " I conclude, I beg and exhort you, that after the example of good " poets, and industrious actors, you would be particularly diligent in the " latter part and conclufion of your office and employment, that this " third year of your command, like the third act of a drama, may ap- " pear most perfect and splendid." ESTRATTO DELLA POETICA, page 245. The fame would be the reason why an English, and an Italian critic would give different advice on this head. And the propriety of fuch a distinction has been justified by experience in both instances. Metastasio tells us, an attempt was made to introduce the five act drama on the Italian stage, which was obliged to be dropped from the cold reception it met with on account of its novelty; and some years ago a trial was made of the drama of three acts on our stage with no better success. Hecuba and the Desart Island barely stood their nine nights. The Way to Keep Him still remains, (and very deservedly,) a popular comedy, but with the addition of two acts. That this proceeds from a dislike to innovation, and not from any intrinfic merit in the rule of Horace, appears from our having no objection to it in the comic opera, where it is authorised by custom. I must confefs the space of three acts seems quite sufficient for the single circumstance of an action which is the proper object of dramatic only are efteemed acts, or episodes, that are included between the fongs of the chorus, the second, third, and fourth, could only have properly that appellation, the first being the prologue, and the last the exode. Horace, therefore, speaks according to the mode of the Roman theatre, while Tully adopts the division of the Greeks. imitation.
imitation. The obligation laid on the poet to protract his piece to five acts occafioned our earlier poets to have recourse to the double plot; and the modern tragedy which confines itself to one action, from its length partakes something of the (K) watery quality which Aristotle tells us would attend a fimple dramatic fable, if drawn to the length of the epopee. Besides, the division of the fable into three parts, a middle, a beginning, and an end, which Aristotle [L] has defined to be necessary to constitute an entire action, naturally suggests such a division of the drama which is to imitate an entire action. To use the words of an ingenious writer, • The first act, or beginning will fix the spectator's ' attention by opening the plot, and raifing his attention. The fecond, or middle will further continue his perplexity till he is utterly at a • loss to conceive how the piece will terminate. And the third, or end • will relieve him from his embarrafssment and agreeable anxiety after it is carried to the utmost, by an unexpected, yet natural cataftrophe [M].' We are not only indebted to the Latin crítics for the division of the drama into acts, but for the fubdivision of those acts into scenes. As the act was determined by the ode of the chorus in tragedy, and the vacancy of the stage in comedy [N], so the end of the scene was marked by [κ] ὑδαρῆ. Poetic, Chap. xxvI. [L] Poetic, Chap. VII. [M] Letters of Literature, Letter xxI. [N] The division of scenes in Shakespear is marked by their actual change. When the pedantry of the self-named scholars of Ariftotle first took poffeffion of our stage, one of the rules
POETIC OF ARISTOTLE. by the entrance, or exit of a character; and this they expressed by naming all the characters at the beginning of the first scene of the first act who were then on the stage; and when a person either entered or went out repeating the names with the addition or omiffion of that person [o]. All this the modern theatre obviates, by fimply marking the entrance and departure of the characters. Till very lately, new plays were always on their first publication printed in the Latin mode. At length however good sense prevailed over pedantry, and we have restored that form of stage direction which is most convenient, reviving the custom of our older writers, except as to the language, most of their directions being in Latin, as Exit cum fuis, Exeunt omnes, Manet. We only retain Exit, and Exeunt. rules was, never to change the scene, or leave the stage vacant, in the middle of an act. This Metastasio breaks through, (see his Operas paffim.) It never prevailed on our theatre. I own I am utterly unable to see what possible advantage can be derived from the observance, or disadvantage from the breach of it. [o] For instance: they would have written the first scene of the fifth act of Henry Iv. Part 1. thus: Аст v. SCENE I. King Henry, Prince of Wales, Lord John of Lancaster, Earl of Westmorland, Sir Walter Blunt, Sir John Falstaff. SCENE II. King Henry, Prince of Wales, Lord John of Lancaster, Earl of Westmorland, Sir Walter Blunt, Sir John Falstaff, Worcester, Vernon. SCENE III. King Henry, &c. reciting all the names again, except Worcester and Vernon. Ff The
" 218- The Abbé D'Aubignac was for following the example of the ancients, and laying afide all fstage directions whatever, merely because they never used them. From the same principle, why not propose the disuse of capital letters, stops, and division of words, in writing and printing? It is not very foreign to this subject to remark what was called 'the • dumb show,' in our old plays. This appears to have been a kind of pantomimical exhibition of the principal circumftances of the piece previous to its commencement. There is a remarkable one in Hamlet. Before the opening of the supposed play to be exhibited to the king and queen, the following stage direction appears. • Trumpets found, dumb shew ، follows, which is accurately described, and appears to contain every circumstance of the murder of Hamlet's father. Now there is no apparent reason why the ufurper should not be as much affected by this mute representation of his crime, as he is afterwards when the fame. action is accompanied by words.. I once conceived this might have been a kind of direction to the players which was from mistake inferted in the editions; but the fubsequent conversation between Hamlet and Ophelia, entirely destroys fuch a notion. This observation leads me to another. The use of soliloquies; either. when the character is quite alone, or when he speaks to himself in company, which last is generally diftinguished by the word ' aside,' in the margin. Though in real life this custom of thinking aloud hardly ever happens, yet we are so accustomed to it on the stage, and it is often so useful in developing a character that I think it may fairly be permitted. But no incident, even the most trifling, should ever arise from
POETIC OF ARISTOTLE. { from overhearing a foliloquy. The conversation of Mungo to his hamper in the Padlock, which is overheard by Don Diego, does not fall under this fault, as such a real conversation is perfectly confiftent with the character of the grumbling negro. To return to the word episode. It seems inconsistent, to a reader unacquainted with the origin of the Greek tragedy, that the principal part of it comprehending the body of the fable should be distinguished by a name which usually implies a digreffion, or some tale that is not immediately connected with the leading epic, or dramatic action, and in which sense it is frequently employed in the treatise before us. To explain this, it will be necessary to take a short view of the rife and progress of the ancient drama. Tragedy owed its birth to a kind of ode in honor of Bacchus which was performed at the festival of that deity by rival poets, and the prize given to the successful candidate was a goat, from whence it received its name [P]. It occurred first to Thespis, one of these contending bards, to enliven the dulness of his periodic song by some tale or fable to be recited between the intervals by one of the perfons employed to fing in the ode. To this person Æschylus added a second actor, as Sophocles afterwards did a third, forming a dramatic dialogue in which the ori- [P] Τραγωδία, literally means the fong of the goat. So Horace, * Carmine qui tragico vilem certavit ob hircum.' ART. POET. 220. He who the prize, a filthy goat, to gain, • At first contended in the tragic strain.' Ff2 COLMAN. :: ginal
ginal reciter of the fable, taken from the musical performers of the ode, had only a fubordinate part. For a confiderable time however, the musical part continued to be confidered as the chief; and the dramatic part as a kind of deviation from the regular form of tragedy [Q], which was sanctioned by religion, and supported and regulated by the magiftrates, and from that circumftance received the appellation of episode, which it ever afterwards retained. From this it is obvious, that the chorus was not the choice of the poet, but a necessary appendage to the theatre which neither law nor custom would permit him to dispense with. This particular circumftance of the Greek tragedy, which occafioned them to smuggle as it were the dramatic fable on the public between the pauses of a musical composition, cannot fail of reminding us of the mode adopted by the provincial theatres to avoid the rigor of the law before the late act in their favor, by receiving money for a concert of mufic, and announcing a play to be acted gratis during the intervals [R]. NOTE [Q] From this custom of deviating from the original design of praising Bacchus in these odes, arofe the Greek proverb Ουδὲν πρὸς Διονυσιὰν. 'It has nothing to do with Bacchus," which was applied generally to any thing introduced foreign to the subject in question. ، Good- [R] By such a fubterfuge was the illustrious Garrick first ushered to the public notice. The curious reader will not be difpleased to fee a copy of the bill that announced him. • man's Fields, October 19, 1741. At the late theatre in Goodman's Fields, this day will • be performed, a concert of vocal and instrumental music, divided into two parts. Tickets at three, two, and one shilling. Places for the boxes to be taken at the Fleece Tavern, ' near the theatre. N. B. Between the two parts of the concert will be prefented an hifto- ( rical play, called The Life and Death of King Richard the Third: containing the distresses • of King Henry VI. the artful acquisition of the crown by King Richard, the murder of • young King Edward the Fifth and his brother in the Tower; the landing of the Earl of ‹ Richmond, and the death of King Richard, in the memorable battle of Bofworth Field, ' being
12.3.
mvp-aristotle-comment-36
12.6
THE EXODE.
THE exode does not mean the catastrophe of the fable, but the conclusion of the piece, though the catastrophe was often comprehended in it; it was in effect the last act. The Greek tragedies, like ours, generally end with some moral fentence drawn from the events of the fable. All those of Sophocles do. Euripides makes the same sentence serve for several plays. These are usually spoken by the chorus, not fung, for the distinction of the exode is its following the last ode of the chorus. ' being the last that was fought between the houses of York and Lancaster; with many ' other true historical passages. The part of King Richard, BY A GENTLEMAN, (WHO ، NEVER APPEARED ON ANY STAGE.) King Henry, by Mr. Giffard; Richmond, by Mr. Marshall; Prince Edward, by Miss Hippisley; Duke of York, Miss Naylor; Duke • of Buckingham, Mr. Peterson; Duke of Norfolk, Mr. Blakes; Lord Stanley, Mr. Pagett; Oxford, Mr. Vaughan; Tressel, Mr. William Giffard; Catesby, Mr. Marr; Ratcliff, Mr. Crofts; Blunt, Mr. Naylor; Tyrrel, Mr. Puttenham; Lord Mayor, Mr. Dunstall; ' the Queen, Mrs. Steele; Dutchess of York, Mrs. Gates; and the part of Lady Anne, by Mrs. Giffard. With entertainments of dancing, by Monf. Fromet, Madam Duval, and ' the two Masters and Miss Granier. To which will be added, a Ballad Opera of one • act, called the Virgin Unmasked. The part of Lucy, by Miss Hippisley. Both of which • will be performed gratis by persons for their diversion. The concert will begin exactly at ' fix o'clock.' This curiosity was communicated to me by Mr. William Giffard, one of the performers, now (1791) living at Southampton, a gentleman in character and manners truly respectable. It
DITE. It was the custom of the Roman comic theatre for one of the characters to address the audience, and folicit their favor by saying PLAU- This was partly followed by our elder comic writers who would frequently bring one of the characters forward to address the audience, in what was then called an epilogue. As for example in the epilogues to All's Well that Ends Well, and As You Like It. From this arose the modern epilogue which is now considered as an essential appendage to every new drama. This is sometimes spoken in the character that has been performed, as in the celebrated epilogue to the Distressed Mother which is still always called for whenever the play is acted. Sometimes in the person of the particular actor that speaks it, as in the epilogue to Dryden's Tyrannic Love spoken by Nell Gwin which begins, ، Hold, are you mad, you damn'd confounded dog! • I am to rife and speak the epilogue [s].' And fometimes, indeed most commonly, as an indifferent perfon. Many of our epilogues abound with wit and humour. That to the Clandestine Marriage is a kind of after-piece [r]. Much has been faid both for and against these kind of ludicrous epilogues to tragedy. Thomson passes a severe sentence on them in the [s] It is now universally the practice for the curtain to drop and the player to go out, and return again, even if the epilogue is spoken in character. Such a conduct as this of Dryden's is a direct avowal of the theatrical deception. [T] For an instance of an epilogue supplemental to the tragedy, see Note II. Chap. XIII. epilogue
2.23 POETIC OF ARISTOTLE. epilogue to his Tancred and Sigismunda. The Spectator, No. 338, criticises the epilogue to the Distressed Mother, to which there is a very pert and superficial answer by the author of the epilogue himself, (Budgel), as appears by the fignature in the Spectator, No. 341. Our philosophical critic would certainly have condemned this custom, as every one must who confiders it as the object of tragedy to make any serious impreffion on the mind, and not be confidered merely as the amusement of the moment. A humorous after-piece has something of the same effect, but not in the fame degree, as the epilogue in question is a ludicrous censure on the [u] incidents of the piece. Budgel justifies his prologue from the French custom of clofing their tragic entertainments with a ridiculous PETITE PIECE, a custom but lately introduced here during the first nine nights of a new play; and if we credit a French writer in preference to Mr. Budgel, the practice was the fame On the French stage at the time his defence was written, (1712). “The - custom of giving a small piece after the larger has only been efta- ← blished fince the year 1722. The larger pieces at first acting were. conftantly performed by themselves, and a smaller piece was never • added till after the eighth or tenth representation, and which was always confidered then as a symptom that the play was likely not to • be well received. To obviate this opinion, sometimes ill founded, • but always prejudicial, M. de la Mothe caused a petite piece to be • played the first night of the representation of his tragedy of Romulus, • and the practice has been continued ever since.' DICTIONNAIRE D'ANECDOTES, ART. COMEDIE FRANÇOISE. Under the same article is a ridiculous anecdote relative to the tragedy, from which the Distressed Mother is nearly a tranflation. A grave magistrate who had never. ، [v.] See conclusion of Note 11. Chap. VI. • been
• been at a play, was perfuaded to go by some of his friends from the ' afsurance they gave him that he would receive much entertainment ' from the tragedy of Andromache. He was very attentive to the play ' which was followed by a farce called the Pleaders. On coming out • he met the author, and meaning to pay him a compliment, said to ' him, " I am vastly pleased with your Andromache. It is really a capital piece; but yet I own I am a little surprised you make it end "so merrily. I was once very near crying, but when those comical "little dogs appeared I could not help laughing." It is with regret I observe, that the modern drama is again adopting the custom of the actors addressing the audience at the conclufion of the piece. Besides the absurdity of this practice (w), which tends to destroy the effect of the scene, it is attended with the grossest and most [w] Every allufsion to the drama, in a drama, is out of place, and absurd. Lessing, Vol. 1. p. 204, censures this passage in the Merope of Massei, both from this reason, and on account of the anachronism in mentioning the scene before the existence of the drama. • Con cosi strani auvenimenti forsè ' Non vide mai favoleggiar le scene.' • Ne'er has the scene such strange events display'd.' Dryden has been guilty of both these errors in the speech he puts into the mouth of Edipus, which begins, O that as oft at Athens I have seen 'The stage arise, and the big clouds descend.'.
and of one of them in Love Triumphant, where Veramond compares the catastrophe to the "winding up of fome defign, • Well form'd upon the crouded theatre.' Our great poet of nature is but too much addicted to this practice. servile
POETIC OF ARISTOTLE. fervile flattery. The infolent tranquillity with which an audience will receive the highest strains of adulation under the specious appellation of THE PUBLIC is no bad specimen of the respect a [x] democratic affembly has for the rights and equality of mankind. I have blushed for my countrymen when I have seen them in a body receive almost adoration from a lovely and accomplished actress which any individual of them would have been proud to offer. I am forry to add, that this disgraceful practice is not confined to the musical drama. To the best of my recollection, it was first revived in a regular and excellent comedy, The Clandestine Marriage. The tragic. muse has, I believe, hitherto kept herself clear of this degradation. [x] Lest I should be thought, in this sentence to be libelling the House of Commons, I beg leave to observe, that neither that assembly, nor any representative body whatever, can be called democratical. All representatives are, to use the words of Colonel Mitford, persons • elected by the people to legislative authority, for merit real or supposed.' SEE HISTORY OF GREECE, Chap. v. Sect. 1. Our House of Commons has besides distinction of rank, which evidently must arise from the qualification of property required. To quote the words of our Critic where he is defining the different forms of government, ὅπου ἡ πολιτεία βλέπει ἐις τε πλοῦτον, καὶ ἀρετὴν, καὶ δῆμον, ὁῖον ἐν Καρχηδόνι, αύτη ἀριςοκρατική ἔςι. ARIST. POLIT. L. IV. C. VIII. • When the form of the commonwealth looks up to riches, ' to virtue, and to the opinion of the people, as in Carthage it is aristocratical.' I wish to know how the qualifications of a member of parliament could be more exactly expressed, a certain quantity of property, merit real or supposed, and popularity. Gg NOTE
12.4.
mvp-aristotle-comment-37
12.10
THE CHORUS.
[Y] WE have already traced the origin of this appendage to the ancient tragedy; and shewn that it was not at least invented for the purpose of heightening either the probability of dramatic representation, or affifting its moral tendency. That it has these effects, as well as fome other collateral advantages has been the opinion of fome of the most judicious critics both of the French and English school. I shall therefore examine how far this opinion appears to be founded on truth; dividing my enquiry into three heads. The effect of the chorus, on dramatic probability. On the moral influence of the drama. And on the conduct of the fable, by preventing unmeaning conversation between confidents, officers, &c. for the fake of unfolding events to the audience which they could not otherwise learn. For on these three points all the arguments in favor of the chorus seem to reft. A And first as to the probability. The bishop of Worcester in his notes on the Epistle to the Pifos makes the following observation. ' chorus interpofing, and bearing a part in the progress of the action gives the representation that probability, and striking resemblance of • real life which (z] EVERY MAN OF SENSE perceives, or feels the [Y] See Note II. this chapter. [z] With all my respect for this elegant critic, I think he has gone a little too far in branding all who differ in opinion with him on, at least a disputed hypothefis, with folly. It favors a little of the concluding decree in Bramston's' Man of Taste.' This is true taste, and whoso likes it not, Is blockhead, coxcomb, puppy, fool, and fot.' want
POETIC OF ARISTOTLE. ' want of, upon our stage; a want which nothing but such an expedi- ⚫ent as the chorus can possibly supply.' In this passage probability of action is evidently confounded with probability of representation. If the fable is well formed, the situations affecting, the language adapted to the paffion, and these assisted by the natural expression and powers of the actor [A], without doubt the allufion is compleat. We are hurried away by our feelings, and we yield to the impression of the scene. But in this case we never enquire where we are, or how it is poffible fuch a scene should pass before fuch a number of spectators as furround us; at such a question the whole delusion vanishes, and instead of being in. the castle of Macbeth, or the tent of King John, we instantly find ourselves in the Theatre Royal. It is impossible for any notion to be more unfounded on truth than that which supposes that no dramatic action can have the requifite probability for public representation that may not be supposed to pass before spectators, and that consequently a dramatic audience before whom the real action is supposed to pass is necessary both to encrease the probability of the scene, and confine the poet to such events as may naturally happen in public. It is proved beyond a doubt that when we reflect for an instant, a momentary suspension of the delirium in which we [A] It may tend to some elucidation of this subject to enquire how the force of dramatic illusion is effected by the being acquainted with the voice and person of the actors, or by being in habits of intimacy with them. I think there is no doubt that the different effects of the itinerant preacher, and the regular clergyman on the lower part of the congregation, arifes in great measure, though not entirely, from this. But then in this case the difference arises from the opinion entertained as to their being really in earnest, and the little opportunity there is of feeing in one how his doctrine may be contradicted by his life; while an actor, however strange to us, is always known to be an actor. Gg 2 are
are involved by the combined arts of poet and the player, convinces us where we really are. The ornaments of the theatre, however well adapted to the play, (and, when well adapted, they certainly encrease the delusion while it lasts, and flatter our love of propriety when it ceafes,) no more deceive us than if the performance were in an indifferent room. The moment therefore we come to confider that there are other spectators befides ourselves, this disenchantment is effected. [B] In fact, the border of the stage may be confidered as the frame of a picture, dividing the real from the imaginary scene; and there is no more impropriety in imagining an action, or converfation of the most private nature, to pass before a crouded theatre, than for a picture of Diana bathing to be shewn in a full exhibition room at the Royal Academy. That real delufion may have taken place in weak or in deranged minds I will not deny. A countryman who had never seen a play might mistake the reprefentation for the reality; and if they are not founded on truth, at the least there is no improbability in the stories of the [c] clown, who got up to go out on the entrance of the players [B] Since the above was written I have had the pleasure to fee the fame remark made and illustrated in Mr. Saunders's Treatise on Theatres. • A division is necessary between the ⚫ theatre and the stage, and should be so characterised as to assist the idea of their being two • diftinct places.' - Were a painted frame to be proposed for a picture, how would the • connoiffeurs exclaim! The scene is the picture, the frontispiece is the frame, or in other ◄ words, the frame should contrast the picture, and thereby add to the delusion.' P. 36, 84. [c] I once was present at the representation of The Recruiting Officer by a strolling company, when a country fellow rather weak in his intellects went upon the stage to enlist as Serjeant Kite was distributing the king's picture. It appeared he was ferious in his intent, from his enlisting with the first recruiting party that came into the town afterwards. as
POETIC OF ARISTOTLE. as imagining them difcoursing on private business; and the failor who, provoked to fee the death of Effex likely to happen from the countess of Nottingham concealing the ring when Elizabeth asked her, • What, said he nothing of a private import? • No circumstance-no pledge-no ring?' on Nottingham's answering 'none!' roared out from the gallery, 'It is ، a d-'d lie, for I saw him give it her myself.' The behaviour therefore of Partridge, at the representation of Hamlet in Tom Jones is not unnatural, any more than that of Don Quixote among the puppets, since the fame man who mistook a windmill for a giant, might easily suppose a puppet-shew to be a reality. All the consequences then of this boasted additional probability which tragedy would derive from the use of a chorus seem to be these. First, it must oblige the poet to confine the time of action within the precife time of the representation. For when this time is exceeded on the Grecian stage, of which there are many instances, the natural and probable unity of time is violated from the continual prefence of the chorus, notwithstanding the latitude allowed by Aristotle [D]. And secondly, without any reason founded on the truth of representation, it deprives him of situations in every respect the most interesting, and most fitted to the purpose of tragedy that his imagination can conceive. Indeed the stilts, the monstrous masks, and the unnatural recitation of the ancient theatre, made the chorus not so great an encumbrance there as it would be on ours. The effect of the Grecian drama was almost universally derived from great and striking events, and seldom from the [D] See Note III. Chap. v. dialogue,
dialogue which is so great a source both of terror and distress on our stage. The most affecting scenes on the modern theatre, and which give the most ample scope to the genius of the poet, and the exertions of the player, are those where one character is working on the feelings of another; scenes, of which if there are any, there are only faint traces to be discovered in the Grecian tragedy, and which indeed are utterly incompatible with the constant prefence of a chorus. Surely the most sanguine admirer of antiquity cannot hesitate a moment in condemning an hypothesis which, if received, must immediately banish from the stage the scenes between Lady Macbeth and her husband, Iago and Othello, and King John and Hubert. Before I quit the probability of the chorus, I must beg to cite a passage from M. Brumoy in favor of it. • I know,' he says, it has < some inconveniencies, and it has sometimes thrown the ancients • into errors against probability, but its advantages infinitely more than ⚫ balance its inconveniencies. (E) Sophocles knew how to get rid of • the chorus for a few moments when he had occafion to do it; as in • his Ajax. It is the poet therefore, and not the chorus that ought to ⚫ be blamed when he is put to inconvenience by it.' I perfectly agree with M. Brumoy in this position, that the poet is solely to blame who admits the chorus where he can get rid of it (as every modern poet can) in every place where it cannot be admitted with propriety, and this I think comprehends every part of the action. Between the acts it might be admitted with strict propriety, but it is perhaps impracticable from a reason already mentioned (F). M. Brumoy then proceeds to state the conveniencies of the chorus, which are those [E] See Note III. Chap. XI. [F] See Note II. Chap. VI.. already
POETIC OF ARISTOTLE. already mentioned, and concludes with a description of the [G] dance which accompanied the choral ode, I suppose, as a decisive proof of the PROBABILITY it gave to dramatic representation. We next come to the moral effect of the chorus, or the advantage the drama derives in this respect from the remarks made on the conduct and sentiments of the characters during the course of the action. This has afforded the critics an ample field for panegyric, and the opinion has been supported by some names highly eminent both for genius and learning. Mr. Mason in his Letters on Elfrida, (Letter 1v. near the end), after having mentioned Pierre as a character much 'calculated to leave false • and immoral impreffions on the spectator,' adds, that he knows of none more capable of doing service in a moral view, when justly ani- • madverted on by a chorus;' and says further, that bad characters become on this plan as harmless in the hands of the poet as the historian.' The case of the historian and the poet here, however, are widely different. The historian must recite facts as they are, or at least as he is informed they are, and therefore if they are so arranged as to be liable to make wrong impressions, as he cannot alter the arrangement, he must step forward in his own person, and make the necessary comment on [G] The chorus was arranged in three ranks, of five each when consisting of fifteen performers, and four when of twelve, who imitated in their evolutions the supposed motion of the heavenly bodies. Turning from right to left in imitation of the daily movement of the firmament from east to west while the first stanza was performing, which received from thence the name of STROPHE; and from left to right in imitation of the occafional movement of the planets from west to east during the second stanza or ANTISTROPHE; and remaining fixed during the third stanza or EPODE to mark the stability of the earth. Ben Jonson, in the first regular imitation we have of the Grecian ode, calls these stanzas by the names of turn, counterturn, and stand. the
the action. But it is the poet's fault if his action requires any fuch comment at all, as it is in his option to arrange his incidents as he chuses. If the poet really draws his fable, or forms his characters in fuch a manner as to have an immoral tendency, it is in vain for a chorus to come forward and try to explain it away or efface by words an impreffion that has been made by incident. And if the fable and characters have on the whole a moral tendency, whatever partial and temporary passages may have a contrary appearance in the course of the representation, any tranfient impression of that fort must be removed in the end without having recourse to so inartificial an expedient as the introduction of a chorus. If the manners either of a vicious or a ridiculous character are well marked either in tragedy or comedy, his words can have no dangerous effect on the audience even at the moment; because the spectator will never regulate his own conduct, and sentiments, by those • of a person, who from the opening of the piece is proposed to him as * an example of error and misfortune.'-TERRASSON.. This interference of the chorus is like the moral usually added to fables written for children, and the inutility of these is fairly demonstrated by Rousseau, in his Emilius [H], when he is speaking of the impropriety of putting the fables of La Fontaine into their hands. In short, if the poet has drawn vice amiable, and virtue contemptible or repelling, it is in vain for him to endeavour to alter the impression by a chorus. Indeed, we never want a chorus to define right from wrong. Do we want a chorus to tell us that Lovelace is an accomplished villain, and Grandifon a pattern of confummate virtue? and yet there is something fo repelling in the virtue of the one, and so amiable [H] Vol.I. Part 1. in
POETIC OF ARISTOTLE. in the manners of the other, that we can neither hate Lovelace nor like Grandison; therefore to use, with some alteration, the decision of M. Brumoy above quoted, ' It is the poet therefore and not the ab- • fence of the chorus that is to be blamed, when he is put to inconve- ⚫ nience by the want of it.' How cold, how unaffecting, how fuperfluous, would the animadversion of a chorus be on the fufferings of a Lear, or the crimes of a Macbeth, compared with the utterance of their own feelings and the effect of them on the other persons of the drama. It is THEIR expreffion of pity and terror! It is the horror shewn by the physician and attendant during Lady Macbeth's walking dream, and the indignation of Falconbridge at Hubert, as the supposed murderer of Arthur, that resemble the two horses in Le Brun's picture, 'who start back, with their hair standing an end left they should trample on the bleeding infants;' [1] and not the dull unimpaffioned reflections of a chorus. (K) A most elegant and judicious dramatic critic observes, 'that though it is the office • of the chorus, on the Grecian stage, to moralize, and to point out on every occafion the advantages of virtue over vice, yet how much less affecting are their animadverfions than the teftimony of the perfon • concerned! Whatever belongs to the chorus has hardly the effect of • dramatic imitation. The chorus is, in a manner, without personal character or interest, and no way an agent in the drama. We cannot fympathize with the cool reflections of these idle spectators as we do • with the sentiments of the perfons in whose circumstances and fituation we are interested.' [1] See quotation from the Abbe Vatry, cited by Mr. Mason in Letter Iv, on Elfrida. [K] See Mrs. Montague's Essay on the Writings and Genius of Shakespeare. Hh Should
Should the dramatic writer however find himself at a loss for want of a chorus, and not be contented or able to deduce the proper effect from the incidents and active characters of the piece, he must create one for the purpose of making moral reflections, which is always in his power, fince, as Brumoy observes, 'the chorus, properly speaking was the • honest man of the piece.' Therefore the poet may as well give this office to a Menenius, or an Ænobarbus, as to twelve or fifteen citizens or captives. It seems even the chorus did not always execute their office to the fatisfaction of the people of Athens. We are told by Ælian, that Efchylus was condemned by the senate for the impiety of one of his plays,. and faved only by the interceffion of his brother, who moved the compaffion of the assembly by shewing his arm without the hand, which he had loft at the battle of Salamis. And Seneca relates a fimilar story of Euripides, from which the Bishop of Worcester infers the neceffity of a chorus, though some people perhaps may think it rather shews its inefficacy: and that if the tendency of the action appears immoral to the spectators, a by-ftander will never be able to perfuade them it is moral. It now remains to notice the fuppofed advantage of the chorus, in obviating the neceffity of introducing useless confidents merely to say yes or no, while the principal characters are difclofing their secrets through them to the audience. But in fact, the difference of the ancient and modern theatre amounts only to this; an injudicious modern poet, who has no better mode of unfolding his fable to the spectator, invents a useless character; whereas an ancient poet, in the fame predicament avails. himself of one that the custom of the theatre supplies. But the impropriety
POETIC OF ARISTOTLE. propriety is exactly the fame, except that in one case the confident is alone, and in the other accompanied by attendants. Mr. Mafon, in his third letter on the tragedy of Elfrida, which he was advised to adapt to the modern stage, allows that, ' undoubtedly, • most part of the dialogue of the chorus might be put into the mouth ' of an Emma, or Matilda, who with fome little shew of sisterly concernment, might easily be made to claim kindred with Earl Athelwood.' I would not wish that the beautiful poems of Elfrida and Caractacus were in any respect different from what they are. They are above all criticism and all commendation; and we may furely allow Mr. Mason to be partial to a species of drama in which he has, in every eye not blinded by partiality to the ancients, at least equalled the noblest models of antiquity. But in regard to the subject we are confidering, dramatic propriety, the confidante he mentions would be at least as proper as the Coryphaea of his chorus, who appears to be only Elfrida's principal female servant; fince Orgar, speaking to the chorus, says, • Your garbs bespeak you for the fair attendants • Of fome illustrious dame, the wife or fifter • Of this dread Earl.' - and the answer allows the suggestion. ، ' well we know Fidelity's a virtue that ennobles • Even servitude itself.'- They should not therefore in the dramatis perfonæ, be styled chorus • of British virgins,' but ' of Elfrida's attendants.' Hh 2 It
It is besides much more improbable for a character to impart a fecret to twelve or fifteen persons than one. Of this the ancient tragic poets were aware, and often make their characters answer boldly for the fidelity of their numerous confidential friends. In the Electra of Sophocles, Orestes is cautious of speaking out before the chorus, confifting of Argive young women: but Electra encourages him. [L] OREST. 'I would tell you, if these women are friends." ELECT. But they are friends, therefore you will speak before those • who may be trusted.' In the Cœphori of Æschylus, Orestes is obliged to exhort the chorus, who are also women, in rather harsher terms than was confiftent with their independance [M]. • I would advise you to govern your ، tongues properly; to be filent when it is necessary, and speak only • what is convenient.' And in the Electra of Euripides, Orestes shews the fame caution as in the tragedy of Sophocles, and receives the fame affurance from his fister. [N] OREST. Are these, who hear our conversation friends? ELECTRA. So much so, as carefully to keep all we say secret. [1] Εγὼ φράσαιμ᾽ ἂν, ἐι τὸ τῶνδ᾽ ἐύνεν παρα. Αλλ᾽ ἔσιν ἔυναν ὥσε πρὸς πισὰς ἐρεις. [Μ] Ὑμῖν δ᾽ ἐπαινῶ γλῶσσαν ἐύφημον φερεῖν. Σιγᾶν θ᾽ ὅπε δεῖ, καὶ λέγειν τὰ καίρια. [Ν] ῾Αιδ᾽ ἐν φίλαι σοι τῆς δ᾽ ἀκούσιν λόγους; Ωσε σέγειν γε τὰ μὰ, καὶ σ᾽ ἐπη κάλως. The
POETIC OF ARISTOTLE. The inconvenience of a chorus to the poet, when he chuses a subject unfit for their continued presence, though in every other respect proper for the drama, is no where shewn more clearly than in the Hippolytus of Euripides. Indeed, it offends both against probability and morality. Nothing can be more improbable than for a woman to trust an incestuous paffion to her confidante before several other indifferent women: and nothing more immoral than for these women to promife to keep it secret, and to fulfil that promise though it occafioned the death of an innocent person. Those who have a mind to fee how a perfon can defend an hypothefis he favors, in defiance of his own reason and conviction, will be entertained with Brumoy's remarks on this tragedy; where, after all his arguments, he is obliged to allow their sophistry, and the real and radical defects of the chorus. • If these excuses, (he says) though • drawn from Euripides himself, appear too far-fetched, and are not fatisfactory to those who criticise the ancient theatre; these critics will agree, at least, that by these means the poet has diminished with a great deal of art the defect almost inseparable from the chorus, whose eternal prefence produces a spectacle always fine, often necessary, but sometimes embarraffing to the principal actors. We fee, plainly, that Euripides wished to avoid this defect, and yet retain the chorus: for if - this many-headed perfonage had been ignorant of Phædra's paffion, it - must have been mute and inactive. It would have become useless, • and would have deprived the scene of one of its most brilliant ornaments.' [o]. . ، ، [o] Le Pere Brumoy has made a false criticism on the Hippolytus of Seneca; he blames the poet for suffering Hippolytus to leave his sword in the hands of Phædra, a thing (he says) contrary to the manners of the Greeks, who were never armed but on a journey or in war." believe the critic forgot that Hippolytus was just returned from the chace. I. shall
I shall conclude this long note with Mr. Twining's summary, though comprehenfive view of the progress and decline of the chorus. At • first it was all; then relieved by the intermixture of dialogue, but still principal; then fubordinate; then digressive, and ill-connected with ' the piece; then borrowed from other pieces at pleasure; and so on to * the fiddles, and act tunes, at which Dacier is so angry.' CHAP.
13.1.
mvp-aristotle-comment-38
13.1
THOSE WHO ARE REPRESENTED AS FALLING FROM HAPPINESS TO MISERY, SHOULD NOT BE PERSONS OF EXTRAORDINARY VIRTUE, AS THAT WOULD EXCITE DISGUST, RATHER THAN PITY, OR TERROR.
THIS rule is so just, and so confonant with our feelings, that I believe the modern drama will hardly furnish us with an instance of a person of exemplary virtue suffering distress unless it is brought about by some irregular passion of his own. Perhaps in the prose epopee Clarissa may fall under this error: fince, she is a character drawn as nearly perfect as possible; for furely the fingle imprudent step she took is not fufficient to obviate the objection. I do not, therefore, scruple to declare my opinion that this much-admired work is faulty in this respect. The fame objection also lies against the sufferings of Clementina in Grandifon. Whom, by the way, Richardfon has really, though undesignedly, made the heroine of his piece; a confirmation of the opinion advanced in the preceding note, that we judge of, and are affected by the characters from their actions and manners, and not from what the poet chuses to tell us, either in his own person or in that of a fictitious agent. NOTE
A COMMENTARY ON THE CHAP. XIII.
13.2.
mvp-aristotle-comment-39
13.2
NEITHER SHOULD VICIOUS CHARACTERS BE SHEWN AS RISING FROM MISERY TO HAPPINESS.
THE justness of this remark is also confirmed by our own feelings, and the uniform practice of all the imitative poets. Dr. Young in his tragedy of the Brothers being obliged from the circumstances and length of his fable to end his drama at a juncture when the villainy and artifice of Perseus appear to be completely successful, has thought it necessary to anticipate his future misfortunes and disgrace in a fupplementary epilogue, which begins thus : • An epilogue, thro' custom, is your right; • But ne'er, perhaps, was needful till to-night. To-night the virtuous falls, the guilty flies, • Guilt's dreadful close our narrow scene denies.' [A] [A] See note III, chap. xII. NOTE
13.3.
mvp-aristotle-comment-40
13.3
NEITHER SHOULD A VERY BAD MAN BE REPRESENTED AS FAL- LING FROM HAPPINESS TO MISERY; FOR THOUGH SUCH AN ARRANGEMENT MIGHT BE AGREEABLE TO OUR FEELINGS, IT WOULD EXCITE NEITHER PITY NOR TERROR. FOR ONE OF THESE PASSIONS IS EXCITED BY THE MISFORTUNES OF AN INNOCENT PERSON; THE OTHER BY THE MISFORTUNES OF A PERSON IN THE SAME SITUATION WITH OURSELVES; --SUCH AN EVENT, THEREFORE, WOULD BE NEITHER DISTRESSFUL NOR ALARMING.
IT is very obvious that Ariftotle [B], though he blames this mode of arranging the fable, at least prefers it to that which he has last mentioned, as not incurring the double defect of being disagreeable to our feelings, and at the same time not calculated to excite either pity or terror, and therefore totally repugnant to the nature and end of tragedy. What were the sentiments of the critic with regard to the comparative demerits of this, and the first mode, we can only conjecture, as he is himself filent on the subject; but from the general doctrine he advances, (at least in this chapter,) we must suppose his sentence would be most in favor of the first, as having tragic effect, though difagreeable to our feelings. The Fatal Curiosity of Lillo, which [c] Mr. Harris (I suppose by [B] See note VI. chap. XVIII. [c] See Philological Enquiries, p. 154. Mr. Harris seems to have mistaken the circumtance from which this play takes its name; he supposes the opening the casket to be the FATAL CURIOSITY, but I should rather conceive it to be the defire of the young man to fee the effect of his unexpected return on his parents. Ii way
way of a dramatic paradox) has chofen to compare with the Edipus, falls exactly under the censure of this passage. The misery arifes from no sudden start of paffion, or involuntary error, but from the cruel and deliberate murder of an innocent youth for the fake of his property. Would Mr. Harris (to anticipate a definition in the subsequent part of this chapter) allow this hoary ruffian, and his wife, who murder their fleeping guest with the same purpose and from the fame motive as the midnight housebreaker, to be persons of high reputation and profperity, whose misfortunes arise from some error of human frailty, and whose general characters and conduct in life are rather better and of higher dignity than the illustrious names produced from the annals of Greece; for so the critic says they ought to be if the circumstances allow it. This opinion of Mr. Harris seems to have in great measure arifen from the explanation he gives to the term [D] GOOD, (χρηςός) as applied by Ariftotle to manners. It is to be remarked, that there is another arrangement which Aristotle has omitted; that of a virtuous character raised from distress to profperity, which would at least on his own principles come under the fame class with that which is the object of the present note, being agreeable to our feelings but not productive, according to his hypothesis, of tragic effect, though in reality it is capable of producing it in the highest degree. Since while the principal character, in whose favor the spectators must be most strongly interested appears involved in deep distress, and his destruction appears inevitable, the passions of pity and terror will be violently excited; and, if the tragedy possesses the most perfect form, [D] Philological Enquiries, p. 170. For a different explanation of this term, see note 1, unit-
POETIC OF ARISTOTLE. [E] uniting the discovery, and peripetía with the catastrophe, this will continue through the greatest part of the piece. Aristotle himself says in this passage, that pity is excited by the sufferings of innocence, and there is no reason why the character should not also possess that equality of fituation which he requires as calculated to raise terror. Perhaps on confidering this subject very attentively, weighing all the reasoning of Aristotle on the subject, recollecting how capable fuch an arrangement is of producing pity and terror, and with what thin shades such a character may be diftinguished from that which he afterwards points out as proper for tragedy, we may be the less surprised at his not being perfectly fatisfied with his own hypothesis as to the tragic catastrophe. For to some such wavering of opinion I think, we must impute part of what he says on this fubject in the next chapter [F]. When Aristotle speaks of similitude of character as essential to excite terror, it is obvious he does not mean as to rank in life, but as to difposition, virtue, and domeftic connections; for high rank in life was necessary, both from the practice of the Greek theatre, and the doctrine of Ariftotle, to the principal persons of tragedy. A private citizen of Athens, or of London, might be exactly in the same situation with Edipus, though a monarch, as to every circumstance on which the diftress of the tragedy turns. But though the tale of domestic forrow in private life was not admitted, either into the drama or epopee in the time of Ariftotle, he nevertheless could fee, that the effects of pity and terror must increase in proportion to the resemblance of character in every [E] See chap. xΙ. [F] See note IV, chap. xiv. where there is an attempt to account for this seeming inconsistency on other principles. Ii 2 respect.
respect. For he says in another place [G], 'We pity those who are our equals in age, in manners, in habits, in rank, and in family, fince in • all these circumstances of likeness, the fame things are most likely to ، ، happen to ourselves; and we may conclude in general, that those events which we fear should happen to ourselves, excite our pity when they happen to others.' As a farther illustration of this, and of what I have [H] before advanced, concerning the private life tragedy, especially in prose, I shall produce a quotation from the much admired work of the Abbé Barthelemi. • ZOPIRUS. And why do you not sometimes select these great mif- • fortunes, from the events of private life? They would affect me • much more strongly if I saw them continually happen on every fide ‹ of me. • THEODECTUS. I do not know, if they were drawn by a skilful hand, whether they would not excite our feelings too strongly. When • I take my examples from a rank much fuperior to your own, I leave you the liberty of applying them to yourself, and at the fame time the hope of escaping their consequences.' VOYAGE DU JEUNE ANA- CHARSIS, Chap. LXXI. Tom. IV. p. 32. French Ed. 4to. [C] Καὶ τοὺς ὅμοιους ἐλεῖυσι καθ᾽ ἡλικίαν, κατ᾽ ἤθη, κάθ᾿ ἕξεις, κατ᾿ ἀξιώματα, κατὰ γένει· ἐν πᾶσι γὰρ τούτοις, μᾶλλον φαίνεθαι καὶ ἀυτῷ ἂν ὑπάρξαι· ὅλως γὰρ καὶ ἐνλᾶυθα δεῖ λαβεῖν, ὅτι ὅσα ἐφ᾽ ἀνθῶν φιβᾶνται, ταῦτα ἐπ᾿ ἄλλων γιγνόμενα ἐλεῦσιν. ARIST. RHET. L. II. CH. VII. [H] See note 1, chap. IV. The
POETIC OF ARISTOTLE. The observations as to the equality of character, extend to unnatural perfection as well as to unnatural deformity, though in a less degree. If a character is drawn compleatly vicious, it is impossible we can place ourselves so in the situation, as to bring it at all home to our own bosoms. We cannot interest ourselves in the fortune of a person, who we are conscious neither resembles ourselves nor any thing else in nature, or pity misfortunes which at once are the consequence and punishment of crimes we abhor. This excess of guilt is I believe seldom, if ever, afsigned to a principal character, but it is sometimes to be met with in fubordinate ones: Glenalvon is a confummate villain, without one quality to foften our indignation and disgust; [1] fince his brutal courage, folely employed in treachery and affaffination, only ferves to encrease our deteftation of him. The defect of the too perfect character is not so obvious. We can indeed at once fee that as to the first cafe, the want of interest on account of fimilarity of manners and situation, the consequence is nearly, if not exactly the fame. I believe Sir Charles Grandifon is much less a favorite with every reader than Tom Jones. But why we are less affected with pity by the sufferings of a perfect than an imperfect character, is not so clear. For if, as Aristotle says, pity is excited by misfortunes that are unmerited; this must apply most strongly to a character completely virtuous [K]. The cause however why we do not sympathife fo [1] See note 1, chap. xv. [K] In the passage quoted in note (G) from the Rhetoric, it appears that the paffions of pity and terror, as laid down there by Aristotle, are only modifications of the fame passion, diftinguished by the force with which they act on our own feelings, and which both depend on the resemblance of the condition and character of the fufferer to those of our own. much
A COMMENTARY ON THE CHAP. XIII. much with the sufferings of a perfect as an imperfect character, may perhaps arife from this circumftance. The resolution in misfortune, the intrepidity in danger, the contempt of pain and death, which are always shewn in a great and heroic character, take off much of our sense of his distress. We may revere, we may wish to emulate such a character, but we cannot feel strongly for a person who disdains to feel for himself. [L] When Iphigenia throws herself at her father's feet, and by the most tender supplications requests him to spare her life, we feel the strongest impreffions of pity; but when assuming a higher resolution, she resolves to devote herself for the glory of her country, we venerate the heroine indeed, but our tears for the trembling virgin are instantly dried. The observation of Horace, [M] To make ME grieve be first your anguish shewn, • And I shall feel your forrows like my own,' COLMAN. is as applicable to the poet's imitation of the character as the actor's performance of it. There is a just observation in the Tatler (No. 30) on this fingularity of feeling. Speaking of two rivals who were killed at the battle of Almanza, Steele makes this remark: 'The beloved lady is a woman of a sensible mind; but she has confefsed to me, that ⚫ after all her true and solid value for Conftant, she had much more concern for the loss of Careless. These noble and ferious spirits • have fomething equal to the adversities they meet with, and confequently lessen the objects of pity. Great accidents seem not cut out • so much for men of familiar characters, which makes them more eafily • pitied and soon after beloved.' [L] In the Iphigenia in Aulis of Euripides. See note VI. chap. xv. [м] ► Si vis me flere, dolendum eft • Primum ipfi tibi.' NOTE
13.4.
mvp-aristotle-comment-41
13.4
THE CHARACTER THAT REMAINS IS A MEDIUM BETWEEN THESE: A MAN NEITHER EMINENTLY CONSPICUOUS FOR VIRTUE AND JUSTICE, NOR REDUCED TO MISERY BY WICKEDNESS AND VILLAINY; BUT RATHER ONE IN HIGH REPUTATION AND PROSPERITY SUFFERING THROUGH SOME HUMAN FRAILTY.
THIS choice of the proper character for tragedy is justified by reason and experience. The critic has already objected both to confummate virtue and confummate vice. The person he has now selected partakes enough of the first to interest us in his favor, and of the last to prevent our indignation and disgust at his sufferings. The crime, or the error, that occafions his distress, should not be brought upon him in confequence of a good action, (which sometimes happens in real life) or be even involuntary; neither should it arise from radical and deliberate villainy, but should result from fome violent paffion, or imprudent action, in a character not devoid of good qualities, though by no means perfect. In fuch colors has Shakespear drawn most of his principal tragic characters. Lear without radical vice is rash and choleric; Macbeth in the beginning of the play, exhibits a continued struggle between honor and ambition; Othello acts under the influence of an ungovernable paffion; Richard the Third appears an exception; and if we mean to reconcile the conduct of that play to this rule of Aristotle, we must I think adopt an excuse, mentioned indeed, but rejected by M. Leffing in
، [N] in his criticism on a German tragedy formed on the same story. • I may be told, perhaps we must give up Richard: the piece indeed • bears his name, but he is not for that reason the hero of it, nor the ، ⚫ character by which the proper effect of tragedy is attained: he can only be confidered as the cause of exciting our pity for others. Are not the queen and the princes objects of our pity?" The objection he starts to this, and it appears a just one, is that these characters are as improper from their innocence as Richard is from his guilt. The King Richard of Shakespear however has so many strokes of courage and dignity in his character, that his vices are sometimes hidden by them, and Cibber has even made his rival Richmond bear teftimony to his bravery when on the point of engaging him [o]. But no such circumstance attended the Richard of the German poet, who according to M. Lessing, ' is [P] so horrible a wretch, a devil incarnate so wicked, in whom it is so impoffible for us to find the smallest • trait of resemblance with ourselves, that I think we could fee him • fuffer all the torments of hell before our eyes without being affected by ، it, without having the least fear, that if such punishment is the consequence of fuch crimes only, it can ever fall upon ourselves.' DRA- MATURGIE, Part 11. p. 35. [N] Dramaturgie, Part 11. p. 36. [o] Nor should thy prowess Richard want my praise, But that thy cruel deeds have stampt thee tyrant.' [P] Un drôle fi horrible.' If the French tranflator has done justice to his original in this expreffion, the German Richard must have been totally deficient in poetical goodness, taken in the sense in which I conceive it used by Aristotle in chapter xv. See note 1, on that chapter. Modern
POETIC OF ARISTOTLE. Modern manners have given to the theatre this defideratum of Ariftotle; the ἁμαρτία μεγάλη, the GREAT FRAILTY as it is excellently expressed by Mr. Twining, which is capable of involving a character in the deepest and most pathetic distress, and at the fame time so far from injuring its moral perfections, that it raises it in our esteem and occafions unmerited distress, without exciting either indignation or disgust. I mean the pafsion of love; that grand hinge on which modern fable, narrative as well as dramatic generally, I had almost said universally, turns. This paffion is to be found in ancient fable, but without the same diftinguishing character. It was confidered like every other passion as a fource of misfortune, and when ungovernable and carried to excess, as a vice. But in modern fable, however violent in its effects, it appears to stamp merit on the character in proportion to its force. I have no doubt that if Mark Antony had been prior to Aristotle he would have conceived him as a very bad person falling from happiness to misery in consequence of his crimes, and confequently no proper fubject for a tragic story. But the magic of this paffion, dressed in the garb of modern gallantry, has changed his nature; and the inglorious death of an abandoned profligate in the lap of floth and prostitution, becomes the glorious facrifice of a generous hero at the shrine of difinterested love. Thomson's tragedy of Tancred and Sigismunda furnishes another instance of this kind. Old Siffredi, who fills the office of the ancient chorus, though throughout the piece he is continually urging Tancred to facrifice his paffion to his duty, in his concluding speech inculcates the neceffity of indulging the passions. I much doubt if such sentiments would have been received with great applause by an Athenian audience. Kk Love
! Love is rather more confpicuous among the Roman poets; but the principal female character in the comedies of Terence is generally a prostitute, while the young woman of virtue is reduced to the situation of a mute. What are the Citheris, the Cynthia, the Delia and the Neæra of Gallus Propertius and Tibullus [Q], but mercenary harlots? The observation of Voltaire on the passion of love, as a subject for the drama, seems perfectly just. It is,' he says, ' of all the passions the ، moft theatrical, the most fertile in sentiments, the most varied. It ought to be the foul of a dramatic piece, or be entirely banished from ' from it.' EPISTLE TO M. MAFFEI ON MEROPE. What Voltaire discovered through art, our Shakespear produced from nature near two centuries before. The passion of love is no where more the entire subject, or if you will the foul of the drama, than in Cymbeline and [R] Romeo and Juliet; but he has introduced no infipid love tale as an under plot in his Macbeth, his Othello, or any of his historical plays, as Addison has in his Cato, and Dryden and Corneille have in the tragedy of Edipus. Shakespear however, the best master of general nature, [Q] Hammond in his Love Elegies, is a direct tranflator of Tibullus: his manners are all Roman. He abuses his mistresses for their venality, and talks of making a campaign, not as his nobler editor suggests to forget Neæra, but to accumulate money to fatisfy her avarice. And I through war must seek detefted gold, • Not for myself, but for my venal fair.' ELEGY II. I believe a campaign has seldom been the road to wealth except to the general and the commiffary. [R] Of this laft tragedy Lessing says, 'I know but of one tragedy to which love has put his * own hand, it is the Romeo and Juliet of Shakespear.' DRAMATURGIE, Part I. page 30. knew
POETIC OF ARISTOTLE. knew that love, though a very dramatic passion, was not the only one, and many, indeed most of his tragedies are founded on others. And a French critic says, ' However much we may be prejudiced in favor of ' those tragedies whose interest turns upon love, it is nevertheless true, ، (and we have often remarked it,) that those tragedies which have fuc- ' ceeded best, do not owe their success to the love scenes.' LETTER FROM LE PERE TOURNEMINE TO LE PERE BRUMOY, PREFIXED TO VOLTAIRE'S MEROPE. Now it is obfervable, that from the restoration till within these last five and twenty years, when Garrick had reformed the stage by the school of Shakespear, almost the only tragedies which do not depend on a love story are the Isabella of Southern, and the Venice Preserved of Otway; and to the great interest of both, the stage at this hour bears the strongest teftimony. To Otway indeed may be applied, with the strictest justice, the character given by our critic to Euripides in this chapter, ' that if he does not conduct his • fable so well in other circumstances he is allowed to be the most tragic • of our poets.' Indeed what but the deep pathos of the catastrophe could induce a refined people to tolerate such a compilation of indecency, impiety, and immorality, as the Orphan [R]. From the fecluded life of modest women in [s] Greece, they neither took any part in the ferious concerns of life, out of their own family, nor could they be present at any public spectacle, therefore they were not in [R] • The famous Orphan of Otway, notwithstanding its real beauties, could hardly have ⚫ taken so prodigiously as it hath done if there were not somewhere a defect of good sense as < well as of good morals.' BISHOP OF WORCESTER'S NOTE ON HORACE'S ART OF POETRY, V. 19. See alfo Note 1. Chap. xv. [s] See Note II. ibid. Kk 2 reality
reality principal objects for the drama, which turned chiefly on public actions; nor was the theatre interested in obtaining their fuffrages, by selecting those stories in which they might take a confpicuous part. The revival of the arts found women in a very different situation; in real life they were in high confideration, and in the regions of narrative fable they were, as they continue to be, every thing. -Their bright eyes • Rain'd influence and judg'd the prize ' Of wit and arms, while both contend • To win her grace whom all commend.' We have therefore rather cause to wonder at their not assuming the same universal empire over the earlier modern drama, and that our first writers, and even Shakespear, have represented them actuated by ambition as often as by love, and as mothers, wives, and daughters, rather than as mistresses. But on confidering that all womens parts were played by men before the civil wars, our wonder will ceafe, and we are rather inclined to think that very paffionate love scenes, like some in Romeo and Juliet, must be more disgustful than pleasing [T]. After [T] Befides the effect on the audience it must greatly influence the sensibility of the actor, on whose feelings the true expression of the paffion, and consequently the feelings of the spectator must greatly depend, and these will be affected by a much finaller incongruity. Το cite the words of a writer very well informed as to dramatic effect, (Hill's Actor, chap. xv.) • As love can neither be concealed nor dissembled in real life before eyes that have any degree of difcernment, so on the ftage that illusion which is the foul of all theatrical reprefentations will never be well kept up in a love scene unless the perfons who perform the characters have hearts naturally susceptible of the passion; and we shall then see it in the • greatest perfection when those who are to protest, and figh, and vow to one another on the 4 stage in reality sigh and doat on one another off. We can remember two persons who though they
POETIC OF ARISTOTLE. After the restoration, when the theatre acquired its last and brightest ornament, the addition of beautiful and elegant female performers, love reigned unrivalled in the drama; and from that period for many years, except the tragedies just mentioned, no new drama was exhibited without a love tale either principal or fubordinate. Of late years, as we have before observed, the stage has been taking a different turn. We have feen Douglas, the Grecian Daughter, and other tragedies of the fame nature, brought forward with applause suitable to their merit. And this complexion of our drama feems to be encreasing. The peculiar abilities of a justly celebrated actress for the representation of matrons, though excellent in all parts, has occafioned love in almost every new tragedy to give place to conjugal and maternal affection; indeed, so much has the latter got poffeffion of the theatre, that the introduction of a nursery is become almost a hacknied stage trick. ' they had both great merit as players, and had neither any thing of that diffolute life too fre- ، quent among those of their profession, yet when they were to be lovers on the stage never • played naturally. It will be seen that I have in my eye Mr. and Mrs. -. Happy as they were in one another the flat poffeffion put an end to transport; and though perhaps enjoying fomething much worthier and better they could not dissemble that. We may on the ⚫ other hand recollect instances, (but I shall not name the perfons) where those who were • pretended lovers on the stage were real lovers off it, and we never faw characters performed ⚫ in such perfection.' See Note VIII. Chap. xv. and Note 11. Chap. XI. and Note II.. Chap. XVII. as also the note immediately preceding this. NOTE
13.5.
mvp-aristotle-comment-42
13.6
OEDIPUS AND THYESTES.
METASTASIO is much dissatisfied with both these examples. He maintains that Thyestes is a character entirely vicious; and that Œdipus, ، to use his own words, ' is a man of fo fublime and pure a virtue, that ، ، to avoid the risk of becoming, as the oracle had menaced, incestuous and a parricide, he quits what he believes to be his paternal house, • hazards the fucceffion of a crown, and goes alone and voluntarily into exile. He is a man of fuch exalted courage, that being attacked and • infulted by a multitude of persons, instead of flying he valiantly de- • fends himself though alone, kills one, wounds another, and disperses • the rest.' ESTRATTO DELLA POETICA, page 259. To this eulogy on Edipus we may oppose the reasoning of Batteux. • It was in his power to avoid his crime and his misfortune, although • foretold by an oracle. This was the common belief of all Greece [u].. • Laius believed that by destroying his fon he should avoid his destiny; ، Edipus believed that by flying from Corinth, where he thought his ' father and mother then lived, he should avoid the fatal disafter with [u] I think this affertion wants foundation. Laius and Edipus believed they could avoid their destiny, but the event of the fable shews the contrary was the received opinion of the time. The fame may be faid of Aftyages and Cyrus, and Cræsus and Atys, in Herodotus. There are a thousand stories modern as well as ancient of attempts to avoid foretold evil, but they are always unsuccessful. The apologue attributed to Æfop, of the young man who is killed by striking at the picture of a lion, is intended to enforce the impossibility of avoiding our deftiny. • which
POETIC OF ARISTOTLE. • which he was threatened. Admonished as he was by the oracle, • should he have thought it sufficient to fly from Corinth? Should not ⚫ he have respected the age of every man who was of a time in life to • be his father? Should not he have been afraid of marrying any woman ' of an age to be his mother? So far from taking this precaution, he no fooner leaves Delphi than he kills the first man he meets, which • happens to be his father Laius; he arrives at Thebes; he triumphs over the Sphynx; elated with his victory, and the offer of a crown, • he marries a woman who evidently might be his mother, fince the ، actually was so. His unhappiness therefore, was obviously the fruit • of his imprudence and his paffions, and might serve for an example to • all the Greeks.' To this it may be added, that the cause of Edipus consulting the oracle was a doubt concerning his being the offspring of his supposed parents Polybius and Merope. Besides, we are to take the manners of Edipus from the picture of him drawn by Sophocles, and he has evidently drawn him as a most violent and inconfiftent character. In a scene between him and Jocasta, where she describes the manner of the death of Laius, he is instantly struck by the circumstance, and precipitately condemns himself, though Jocasta tries to console him; but in a subsequent scene, when Jocasta herself is convinced, and endeavours to dissuade him from further enquiry, he is obftinately refolved to fee the shepherd, and instead of dreading the fatal discovery is in a rage from the fufpicion of a design to represent him as a man of obfcure birth. The last speech of Edipus before the entrance of Phorbas has a ftrong tendency to leffen our concern for his own horrid fituation, and to encrease it for that of Jocasta. The chorus having expressed a dread of the effects
effects of the deep and filent grief shewn by the queen on her going out, Edipus replies : [w] • Burst as it will;-how mean foe'er my line, • I am refolv'd to trace it home.-Perhaps, ، (Such is the pride of woman,) she disdains My humble birth. - The child of fortune, I- • Blest in Her smile, such groundless scorn despise.- 'HER care maternal; and the kindred months • With gradual course from life's inferior scenes • Have rais'd me up to greatness: for my lineage, • Whate'er it be, enquiry cannot change it.' There are some strokes in the soliloquy of the Bastard in King Lear not unlike part of this speech; and perhaps the reader will trace some resemblance between one passage in it, and a reflection of Macbeth. • Come what, come may, • Time and the hour run thro' the roughest day.' [w] Ὁποῖα χρήζει ῥηγνύτω· τ᾽εμὸν δ᾽ ἐγὼ Κ'ει σμικρόν ἐσι σπέρμ᾽, ἰδεῖν βουλήσομαι. ᾿Αυτὴ δ᾽ ἴσως, (φρονεὶ γὰρ γυνὴ μέγα,) Τὴν δυσγένειαν τὴν ἐμὴν ἀισχύνεται. Ἐγὼ δ᾽ ἐμαυτὸν παῖδα τῆς τύχης νέμων, Τῆς ἐῦ διδέσης, ὀυκ ἀτιμασθήσομαι. Τῆς γὰρ πέφυκα μητρός· ὁι δὲ συγδενεις Μῆνές με μικρὸν καὶ μέγαν διώρισαν. Τοιός δε δ᾽ ἐκφὺς οὐκ ἂν ἐξέλθοιμ᾽, ἔτι Πότ᾿ ἄλλος, ὥσε μὴ κ' μαθεῖν τ᾿ εμὸν γένος. As
POETIC OF ARISTOTLE. As to Thyestes, those who are determined never to find Aristotle and the Greeks in the wrong, may at least allow him to be as good a character as Richard the Third. Though to speak candidly, I rather think them both exceptions to the rule laid down by Ariftotle than examples to illustrate it.
13.6.
mvp-aristotle-comment-43
13.7
NOW, THE SUBJECTS OF THE BEST TRAGEDIES ARE TAKEN FROM A FEW FAMILIES.
IN the time of Aristotle, the walk both of history and fable was confined within very narrow limits. (x) The transactions of Greece and Persia were the principal, and indeed the only objects of history properly so called, for that part of the works of Herodotus which does not relate to those countries, is rather the compilation of the traveller than the narration of the regular historian; and fable was confined to the Grecian mythology. Our dramatic field is greatly enlarged. Befides poffeffing almost every story proper for the drama which was known when Ariftotle wrote, we have the additional advantage of events drawn from the annals of more than twenty succeeding centuries, with all the variety of incident and manners that must arise from the adventures, the customs, and prejudices of different ages, governments and climates, and all the combinations that memory and imagination have been able to form out of fuch an immense mass of matter. It is true,' as Bossu observes, ⚫ that the ancients could not foresee what would happen after them: ، [x] See Note Iv. Chap. Ix. LI • but
، ' but he, (Boffu) who had the advantage of seeing it, might have em- 'ployed it to shew the possibility of compofing poems that would possess more incident, more striking situations, more manners, more pictures ' of human actions; in fine, more examples of every kind than can be • found in the ancient poets.' TERRASSON ON THE ILIAD. Perhaps there is something a little invidious in this observation; for the chief object of Terrasson seems to be the depreciation of Homer. That Homer from the scanty materials he possessed should have been able to form works containing such vast variety of incident and manners, as the Iliad and the Odyssey, and that Ariftotle from his writings, and their copiers the tragic poets, should have been able to deduce rules so generally applicable to the nature of imitative composition even at the present day, must excite at once our wonder and veneration. Nevertheless though the general precepts are so perfectly just, as being founded on truth and nature, it is impoffible they can strictly apply to all the variety of subjects which have enlarged the sphere of epic and dramatic fable in the course of fucceeding ages. We may trace in the institutions of Alfred the great outline of the British constitution, and find those striking canons of polity and freedom which the accumulated wisdom of centuries has never attempted, and I trust never will attempt to alter or amend; for in politics as well as poetics, all alteration of excellence is corruption. But at the fame time that we allow this, we cannot expect to find in a code of laws framed for a rude people, and comparatively a circumfcribed dominion, every regulation necessary for the government of a powerful and commercial empire, and its refined and luxurious inhabitants. NOTE
13.7.
mvp-aristotle-comment-44
13.11
THE SECOND FORM, WHICH IS ESTEEMED THE FIRST BY SOME, IS THAT WHICH HAS A DOUBLE COMPOSITION LIKE THE ODYSSEY; HAVING A DIFFERENT CATASTROPHE FOR THE VIRTUOUS AND VICIOUS. THIS FORM APPEARS TO BE THE FIRST, FROM THE WEAKNESS OF THE SPECTATORS, WHICH THE POETS ARE INDUCED TO FOLLOW, AND COMPOSE THEIR PLAYS TO GRATIFY THE FEELINGS OF THE AUDIENCE.
WHY it should be the duty of a poet not to gratify the feelings of his audience, or why it should be a weakness in the audience to wish to see virtue rewarded and vice punished in the catastrophe, provided the paffions of pity and terror have been strongly excited during the course of the drama, is I confefs totally beyond my comprehenfion. If the principal person of the piece, on our interest for whom the general interest of the drama must depend, is to be shewn as falling from happiness to mifery, through some great frailty, short of any species of guilt that shall fink him in our esteem, and is to be represented happy till the catastrophe of the piece, in the catastrophe only will the tragic impreffion be made. Or if the distress begin with the drama, and gradually increase till the fatal catastrophe, the peripetía or fudden revolution of fortune will be wanting. It is impoffible however to reduce to rules that which can be only tried by the criterion of our feelings; and from the passage before us it is obvious that the feelings of the Athenians L12 were
were in oppofition to the opinion of the Stagirite; and from a former part of the chapter it is equally clear that Euripides had been censured by his countrymen for forming his tragedies on the plan afterwards approved by Ariftotle, though many of his tragedies, especially his Alcestes, his [v] Iphigenia in Tauris, and his Ion, befides the Cresphontes, which will be particularly noticed in a note on the next chapter, are written in the popular form. Whatever might be Aristotle's motive for oppofing the general taste of Athens in this particular, it still less applies to the modern drama. However elegant the taste of the ancients may have been, it is I think sufficiently obvious from all the classical writers that they were not so much alive to the feelings of sensibility as the moderns. We find few of those nice touches which mark the delicacy of the sensations, and which intereft more than the strongest pictures of distress. The only striking instances I recollect of this kind, are the account of the behaviour and words of Alcestes when she supposes herself dying, in Euripides; and the elegant compliment of the wife of Tigranes to her husband, and the pathetic tale of Abradatas and Panthea in Xenophon's Cyropædia. Neither did the Greek tragedy possess the power which the modern stage does of exciting pity and terror during the course of the action from nice and pathetic touches of paffion and manners. Their theatre was not calculated for affecting situation; and therefore if the incidents themselves were not strikingly dreadful, little interest could be excited. Aristotle himself in the beginning of the next chapter, mentions the (Y) In the Iphigenia in Aulis, after the death of Iphigenia appears inevitable, she is faved by a machine, contrary to all probability as well as in opposition to the received fable. See the eleventh Pythian Ode of Pindar, and the Agamemnon of Æschylus. repre-
POETIC OF ARISTOTLE. representation and the combination of the incidents as the only means of exciting pity and terror: if therefore that representation and that combination were not very striking, they could have but little effect on a theatre, whose apparatus was so ill calculated to conceal the means of imitation. [z] For, after all that has been faid of the dramatic probability of the ancient tragedy, encumbered as it was with its chorus, its exaggerated and unnatural recitation (A), its enormous masks and stilts as described by Julius Pollux and Lucian; its frequent instances of buffoonery, not put, like the similar passages in Shakespear into the mouth of fervants and clowns, but uttered by heroes and kings, and blended with the most serious parts of the drama, we may surely say with Mr. Twining [B], that the Greek tragedy was in ' many respects a fimple, unequal, imperfect thing.' [c] The modern theatre is very different; the means of imitation are less obvious and more natural, and the illusion much more complete. And befides it enters more into the detail both of passion and sentiment, and confequently has a variety of modes of affecting the feelings which [z] See Note II. Chap. v. and Note II. Chap. vI. [A] An enraged grenadier, with a fabre in his hand, is undoubtedly an object of terror ' and alarm; but if to make himself taller he mounts upon stilts; if in order to seem more ' enraged he covers his face with an illumined mask, he will then become a scare-crow, and • frighten children only; his enormous strides will but serve to render him the more ridiculous ' to the rational spectator.' LINGUET ON VOLTAIRE'S TRAGEDIES. [B] See Note 215 near the end. This is faid only as to dramatic effect. The spectacle was undoubtedly most magnificent. [c] See Note 1. Chap. Iv. were
were denied to the ancients. • In the drama of the Greeks we may • see indeed the strongest colors, but they are distinct, neither softened • by reflection or melted into each other; while in the modern drama ، we fee a thousand combinations which far from weakening the picture only serve to render it more lively, more various, and more interesting.' MARMONTEL. The impreffion of the paffions of pity [D] and terror on the mind as to their strength, will be influenced like every other impression corporal as [D] How much we are influenced by particular circumstances and situations, as to affecting impressions every one who confults his own feelings, or studies the feelings of others, will be foon convinced. To take a very familiar instance from the popular amusement of sporting: many a man who during the enthusiasm of the chace, will look on the death of a deer or a hare not only with unconcern but with pleasure, would feel a real pain at seeing a lamb slaughtered by a butcher, or will kill a pheasant or a partridge with his gun for his diversion, when he must be strongly pressed by hunger indeed before he would strangle a fowl with his hands. To those who like to judge rather by others sensations than their own, and think experiment inferior to classical authority, a quotation from Xenophon and Arrian on this subject may have weight. Xenophon speaking of the hare-chace says, ' This animal is so pleasing that who- ⚫ ever fees it either trailed, or found, or pursued, or taken, forgets every thing else that he ⚫ is most attached to. To all this Arrian assents in his Treatise on Coursing except the taking of the hare, which he says ' is neither a pleasing nor a striking sight, but rather dif- • gusting.' The difference of opinion in Xenophon, Arrian supposes to arise from his being ignorant of the use of greyhounds. Undoubtedly the corporal sufferings of the hare are more obvious to the courser than the hunter. Mr. Somerville in his Chace, where certainly it is not his purpose to diminish the enthusiasm of the sport, has chofen to mention a very improper circumstance, and which tends strongly to do it, in his description of the death of the hare. Till round inclos'd • By all the greedy pack, with infant fcreams • She yields her breath.' Thomfon
POETIC OF ARISTOTLE. as well as mental, both by the force of the stroke and the sensibility of the object struck. If then the moderns possess more fenfib lity, and at the fame time their theatrical imitation not only exceeds the ancient in truth of representation, but enters more into affecting detail, it may produce that kind of illufion which shall be so strong as, on painful fubjects, to produce the paffions of pity and terror unallayed by the sensation of any attendant pleasure. In this case surely Aristotle would not condemn a poet for softening the pathos of the dramatic story in compliance with the feelings of his audience, fince in the passage quoted from his Treatise on Government he mentions (E) pleasure as a necessary concomitant of the purgation of the paffions by the imitative arts. Here however an objection may possibly occur. Aristotle indeed tells us, that the Athenians were best pleased with the happy catastrophe ending differently to the good and the bad; or in other words, with what is or rather has been usually called POETICAL JUSTICE. But how shall we Thomson not only censures hunting as a cruel diversion, but even blames the use of animal food. Angling however, he praises as a delightful amusement. Even there he feels for the worm. But he speaks with all the complacency imaginable of fixing with gentle twitch the barbed * hook' in the mouth of the fish. The early instructors of youth are now very careful in preventing them from tormenting animals, and it is a very proper care; but at the fame time it oftener originates from mistaken fondness than cruelty. If the fly-killing anecdote of Domitian be true, I think it rather a proof of his want of rational resources of amusement than a specimen of the natural barbarity of his disposition. [Ε] Καὶ πᾶσι γίγνεσθαι τινὰ καθάρσιν, καὶ κώφιζεσθαι μέθ ἡδονὴς. See Note I. Chap. VI. That the primary object of poetry is to please was the opinion also of Erastofthenes, another ancient philofopher, who says, ποιητὴν πάντα σοχάζεσθαι ψυχαγογίας ου διδασ καλίας. The poet effects all his purposes by interesting us not by instructing us.' See the beginning of the bishop of Worcester's Effay on the Idea of Universal Poetry. account
account for what has been said in favor of the opposite conduct of the tragic drama among ourselves? The answer to this objection appears sufficiently obvious [F]. People are very apt to think they like what they ought to like. How far this decifion of Aristotle might change the taste, or rather the fashion of Athens in this cafe, we have no opportunity of knowing; but that it has influenced, afsisted by the critical decifions of Addison and others, the opinion of many of the people of London, though perhaps not their real taste, is certain. Mr. Addison and his colleagues in the composition of the Tatlers and Spectators, have been at great pains to disseminate and enforce this doctrine of Aristotle, to the entire conviction of such of his readers as chose rather to judge of their feelings from the authority of philosophers and critics than their own sensations. See Spectator, No. 40, and Tatler, No. 82. The last mentioned paper is by the later editors attributed to Steele [G], but the doctrine [F] The father of English poetry makes no bad distinction between the decision of pedantry and nature in putting the commendation of the system of Ariftotle in the mouth of the monk, and giving the other opinion to the knight and the hoft. See the quotation from Chaucer's Canterbury Tales by Mr. Twining, Note 100. See also Beattie on Imagination, Chap. v. page 202. [G] In one of these tales which I do not quote as they are in every one's hands, we can hardly, on reflection, pity the man whose misfortune is brought on by so absurd an act as the pulling the trigger of a fire arm at a woman, even with a certainty of its being unloaded, which was not the cafe. A great frailty may be a proper foundation for tragic distress, but I doubt if a great folly is. As to the other story which Gay has made the groundwork of a very popular ballad, the event on which it turns is barely possible but very improbable, and therefore unfit for poetry. I have heard of an event as extraordinary, though directly opposite in the catastrophe, from an eye witness whose veracity I can depend on, which though on the same ground unfit for fable, those of my readers who think as I do on the subject will forgive me for relating. My friend was at one of the small bathing towns on the fouthern coast of England, I believe Teignmouth, when the Royal George was loft at Spithead. He was in the street when the account came. A poor woman in
POETIC OF ARISTOTLE. doctrine as to poetical justice, and the weakness of the audience, is exactly correspondent with that of Addison in the Spectator, and this doctrine is supported by the introduction of two as shocking tales as a gloomy imagination ever invented, or the accidental occurrence of diftrefsful incidents actually occasioned. In this country, however, the authority of a dictator even in matters of taste will never be admitted, an appeal lies to the people, and their decree has reversed this dictatorial edict. [H] The tragedy of King Lear has always ended with the happinefs of Cordelia and the restoration of the old monarch, from the first alteration of it by Tate. Indeed Addison himself was too good a whig in all the agony of maternal grief exclaimed, I had a fon on board. A man at the instant was riding down the street. It was that son who had got leave of absence, and had left the ship the day before the accident. In No. 117 of the Tatler, a doctrine diametrically opposite is held. 'Inventions of this ' kind (ending happily) ' are the food and exercise of a good-natured disposition, which they ' please and gratify at the same time that they nourish and strengthen.' This paper the later editors attribute to Addison, but the internal evidence is strongly in favour of its being Steele's. Particularly the story of the dream. [H] Davies in his Dramatic Miscellanies has remarked, that King Lear in its original state was never a favorite. Mr. Colman altered Tate's alteration, preserving the happy catastrophe, but rejecting the love scenes between Edgar and Cordelia. The reason given by Tate for this love episode is quite a la Françoise, viz. the want of heroism in Edgar to take such a mode of saving his life for his own fake only. However the idea that Cordelia gives those harsh answers to her father to avoid a difagreeable marriage, reconciles us to a conduct otherwise a little inconsistent with so gentle a character; but on the other hand it deprives Albany, who is drawn as a perfectly just man, of the only excuse he can have for arming against his own conviction. < Where I could not be honest, ‹ I never yet was valiant: for this business, ' It touches us as France invades our land.' Mm not
not to lay afide his assumed authority, and bow to the majesty of the people, and flatter their prevailing taste even in violation of ancient manners by wedding a Roman virgin to a barbarian king, and of Roman history by dismissing to happiness and quiet a young patriot, who expired foon afterwards with his country's freedom in the plains of Philippi, for the fake of giving a happy catastrophe to his celebrated tragedy. I fay a happy catastrophe, for as to the character of Cato, as it is drawn by Addison, we are neither interested in his life or concerned for his death. To argue from my own feelings, that arrangement of dramatic fable is at the same time the most affecting, and the most pleasing in which those characters in whose welfare we are strongly interested, after experiencing the greatest distress, and while their utter ruin or death seems inevitable, are at once relieved by a sudden revolution of fortune quite unexpected and yet not improbable [1]; and the pleafure received from this will be greatly encreased if the distress of the fable arises from tyranny and oppreffion [K], the author of which. is involved in ruin by the peripetía. Such an arrangement will both: excite pity and terror, and the catastrophe will be still agreeable to our feelings. This form is exemplified in the Wife for a Month of Beaumont and Fletcher, the Marriage A-la-Mode of Dryden, the Grecian [1] The difficulty of doing this, I believe, has occafioned more poets to follow the oppofite plan than the precept of Aristotle; for as Dryden observes in his preface to the Spanish Friar, It is not so easy a business to make a tragedy end happily; for 'tis more difficult • to save than 'tis to kill. The dagger and the cup of poifon are always in readiness; but • to bring the action to the last extremity, and then by probable means to recover all, will * require the art and judgment of a writer, and cost him many a pang in the performance.' [K] This is even approved by Ariftotle. See Note VI. Chap. XVIII. Daughter,
Daughter, and above all in the fourth act of The Merchant of Venice. At the moment Shylock is preparing to execute his bloody purpose, the interpofition of Portia, Tarry a little-there is something else,' and the terror and disappointment of the Jew, has been already mentioned as affording the most striking theatrical situation that can be conceived. Perhaps the subsequent effect is something hurt by the raillery of Gratiano, the force of which should be kept down as much as poffible in the performance, instead of being highly exaggerated as it usually is. We have feen indeed the character of Portia given to a comic actress, and the gravest and most spirited parts of this scene made the vehicles of mimicry. In this Mrs. Clive was followed by Miss Macklin and others. Miss Young, now Mrs. Pope, had the honor of restoring Portia to her proper dignity. The fate of Sir Giles Overreach in Maffinger's New Way to Pay Old Debts, would be a masterpiece of this fort were it not for the circumstance [L] of his daughter being a party in the scheme to betray him, and the lord degrading his character as a nobleman, and still more as a foldier, by taking a principal part in the deception. Though the peripetía, or sudden revolution of fortune, when arifing even from accident is allowable in the tragedy with a happy catastrophe, as in the Wife for a Month of Beaumont and Fletcher, yet I think in the tragedy of the other form the unhappy catastrophe should be a necessary or probable consequence of the circumstances of the fable. Undeferved [L] From a circumstance of the same kind, though not immediately connected with the catastrophe, Shylock moves more of our compaffion than perhaps the poet intended; though this is greatly counteracted by the scene where his imprecations against his daughter's disobedience are alternately interrupted by his vows of vengeance against Antonio, Mm 2 mifery,
misery, purely accidental, will always displease in the representation. Our sense of moral fitness is hurt by it; we are apt to say [M] such things ought not to be. When such things happen in real life our first sentiments take that turn, and we can only reconcile them with our notions of a just and merciful Providence, by looking beyond this life; but we are not likely to make reflections of that kind at the theatre; the dramatic illufion is momentary; the instant we reason about it it vanishes. The distress in Romeo and Juliet arifes only from the Friar's coming a few minutes too late to the monument; and in Garrick's [N] alteration, by Romeo's drinking the poison a few moments too foon. The catastrophe of King Lear and of Douglas are both derived from accident. Tate has altered the first by making the messenger arrive only an instant sooner in the prison; in the original he comes time enough to fave the king. The other may be altered, and I believe has been on a private theatre, by making Douglas turn a moment sooner on Glenalvon. Tragedies of this fort do not require the great art and judgment mentioned by Dryden to change the catastrophe, but it can very feldom be done when the catastrophe arises inevitably from the incidents; as in the Edipus of Sophocles, and in Coriolanus, Othello, Timon of Athens, Venice Preserved, and the Fair Penitent. [o] Dr. Beattie blames the punishment of Lovelace in Clarifsa as not being the immediate consequence of his wickedness, but of fome infe- [M] Elements of Criticism, Vol. II. page 379. [N] By Garrick's judicious alteration the pathos is greatly increased. At the same time that I express a general opinion that the unhappy catastrophe ought not to arise from accident, I do not mean to say that when such an arrangement is adopted the merit of the poet does not increase in proportion as the power of affecting is made more forcible. [o] Effay on Fable and Romance, page 569. riority
POETIC OF ARISTOTLE. riority to his antagonist in the use of the small sword. But though the wisdom of the age has abolished the trial by combat from our courts, it still makes a part of the jurisprudence of fable whether epic or dramatic [P]. On the stage we are pleased to fee Richard fall by the hand of Richmond, and Macbeth yield to Macduff, though from the characters of the combatants, it is most probable that the decifion of a duel would in reality have been the reverse. [P] We must nevertheless allow, that when either the epopee or the drama chuse to punish a character they have drawn superlatively vicious with death, they ought not to diftinguish his final conduct with any particular strokes of heroism. The ingenious author of Zelucco has erred in this respect when we consider what a fiend he is made. I think Thomson saw this clearly from the answer he makes Cassandra give to the vaunt of Ægifthus, in his tragedy of Agamemnon. EGISTHUS. We this important day • Will or with conquest crown, or bravely die. CASSANDRA. No, tyrant, no! the gods refuse thee that: • Not like the brave, but like the trembling coward, • Th' afsaffinating coward, shalt thou die.' M. Leffing, in speaking of the German tragedy of Richard the Third, makes a fimilar observation. (For the character of Richard, as drawn by the German poet, see Note Iv. on this chapter.) After so many crimes which we have been compelled to witness, we hear ⚫ that he has fallen in the field of battle. When the queen' (his sister-in-law, I prefume,) ' is informed of it, and the poet makes her say, "This is something," I have never been able ⚫ at the representation to refrain from faying to myself, " No! it's nothing." • More than ' one virtuous monarch has fallen in defending his crown against a powerful rebel. Richard ' dies indeed, but he dies like a hero; dies on the bed of honor: and can fuch a death recom- ⚫ pense me for the pain I have felt during all the piece from feeing the triumph of successful • villainy?' DRAMATURGIE, Part II. page 36. It was given only to Shakespear to paint the character of Richard as a cruel and successful tyrant without caufing him to awaken our disgust, and to make his death at the fame time honorable and supremely dreadful, by means of preceding machinery. NOTE
A COMMENTARY ON THE CHAP. XIII.
13.8.
mvp-aristotle-comment-45
13.12
THE SATISFACTION ATTAINED BY THESE MEANS IS NOT THAT WHICH SHOULD PROPERLY BE EXPECTED FROM TRAGEDY, BUT RATHER WHAT BELONGS TO COMEDY. FOR THERE, THOUGH THE CHARACTERS ACCORDING TO THE FABLE ARE AS IM- PLACABLE ENEMIES AS ORESTES AND ÆGISTHUS, THEY MUST GO OUT RECONCILED AT THE END OF THE PLAY, AND NO PERSON MUST BE KILLED BY ANOTHER.
i I PERFECTLY agree with Mr. Twining in his idea concerning the allufion to comedy. Nothing can be more natural than for Ariftotle, after having blamed the happy catastrophe arifing from the punishment of vice, and the reward of virtue, and saying that such an arrangement wanted the tragic requifites of pity and terror, and partook rather of the nature of comedy, to add, that comedy was indeed so averse to objects of pity and terror that it could hardly admit the punishment of vice; the scene must, on no account, be stained with blood; guilt must be reclaimed not punished; and enemies reconciled, even though the event violates the known facts on which the fable is founded. The notion that the death of fome of the persons is an essential characteristic of tragedy, has I believe prevailed on the modern theatre; and some of those dramas which take a higher tone than is usual with comedy, without including any fatal accident, have been announced to the public under the general name of plays. In common conversation we never apply tragic to any event, however distressful, that is not attended by fome fatal consequence. From
POETIC OF ARISTOTLE. From the mention of Orestes and Ægisthus, one might be tempted to think that comedy sometimes interfered, as to her subjects, with the province of tragedy. But I conceive it is only meant as a strong example to illustrate the predilection of comedy for the universal happiness of the catastrophe. The reconciliation of enemies is seldom a subject of the drama, but that of friends who have quarrelled has been a favorite scene, which succeeding poets have copied from each other. The archetype of this was given by Euripides, in the scene between Agamemnon and Menelaus, in the Iphigenia in Aulis. Our Shakespear exhibited a masterly trait of the same kind in the interview between Brutus and Caffius. Beaumont and Fletcher copied him in the dialogue between Melanthus. and Amyntor in the Maid's Tragedy; and Dryden imitated the fame fituation twice, viz. in the scenes between Troilus and Hector, and Dorax and Sebastian. To these may be added the scene between Horatio and Altamont, in the Fair Penitent; and the reconciliation of Lord and Lady Townly in the Provoked Husband. Defects are not so generally imitated. At least we may be sure that what is so often found in the compofitions of those whose chief business it is to please the public, must be found capable of producing that end. Of the dramatic effect. of all but the two last I cannot judge, but in reading they affect my own feelings in a higher degree than any other dramatic circumstance whatever; and the last scene of the Provoked Husband always draws as many tears from the eyes of the audience as the strongest efforts of the tragic muse, though assisted by the powers of Mrs. Siddons. CHAP..
A COMMENTARY ON THE CHAP. XIV. i !
14.1.
mvp-aristotle-comment-46
14.3
THOSE WHO PRODUCE WHAT IS MONSTROUS INSTEAD OF WHAT IS TERRIBLE, BY THE REPRESENTATION, HAVE NONE OF THE PROPERTIES OF TRAGEDY.
THE word used by Aristotle here (τεραζώδες) I conceive to apply in this cafe to any thing wonderful and supernatural, or as Metastasio renders it, ' il monftruoso ed il portentoso.' (A) The critic has first mentioned two modes of producing pity and terror; by the apparatus of the theatre, and by the construction of the fable. Yet he not only gives the decided preference to the last, but he even goes so far as to say it is in fact the only mode that can fairly be esteemed the work of the poet, as being capable of producing the proper end of tragedy without the assistance of theatrical representation; while that which depends on the apparatus is almost independent of the poet, and depends chiefly for its effect on the [B) person who furnishes and arranges the decoration of the spectacle. [A] See Mr. Twining's note on this passage, note ci, in which there is much judicious criticifm. [B] The Choragus which I have rendered manager of the theatre' to make it more obvious to the English reader, was the person who furnished the chorus, the actors, the dresses, &c. at his own expence. This mode of bribing the poorer citizens by the rich, was as popular at Athens as feasting them is in Britain. The fame method was followed by the Roman demagogues towards the close of the republic, though generally by the means of a more barbarous
POETIC OF ARISTOTLE. spectacle. But he now proceeds to shew, that the very small share the poet could claim of this effect is entirely lost, when the monstrous is exhibited, merely as such, and unconnected with the terrible, since the trifling powers he does possess in this method of exciting the paffions, viz. the pointing out to the perfon who regulates the apparatus, the objects on which he is to exercise his art, are applied to a purpose not at all connected with the proposed end of tragic imitation [c]. What was the power of the ancient theatrical apparatus to produce terror, we can only learn from history. We are told indeed, though perhaps from no very good authority, that in the Eumenides of Æschylus so many furies in horrid forms were brought on the stage, that children were thrown into fits, and pregnant women miscarried. Whatever may be the authority from which we receive this anecdote, it seems by no means improbable. We know the effect that scenes of this kind have over weak minds at the present hour. No one has I believe ever cenfured the behaviour of Partridge at the theatre, as contrary to nature; and a person who will really feel themselves ill by the supposed influence of animal magnetism, may certainly be strongly affected by theatrical horror. We may also allow, that the decoration of the Athenian stage with its masks and its buskins, was as superior to our own in representing these wonderful and supernatural appearances, as I must think it was inferior in imitating the truth and nature of real life. ! ! barous exhibition than the drama; this being afterwards adopted by the emperors on a larger and more expensive scale, had no small share in reconciling the people to the lofs of their influence in the administration of the government.
[c] The reader who wishes to fee an application of this to the modern pantomime, and a very humourous examination of that species of the drama by the rules of Aristotle, is referred to Mr. Twining, note cr. Nn The
The preternatural beings of Shakespear have been praised so often and by so many critics who stand high in the literary world, that it might feem superfluous to say any thing on the subject, did I not confider it as the duty of a writer, profeffing to illustrate the Poetic of Aristotle by modern examples, not to pass over the poet whose excellence in this respect is unrivalled, and is of a different cast from any thing of the kind in the Grecian drama, and that in a circumstance which I do not recollect to have ever seen noticed.
In the production of fupernatural beings by the Greek tragedians, both from the pieces themselves and the judgement of Aristotle, it appears the terror was produced chiefly, if not entirely by the apparatus. We find none of that solemn language which we at once feel, [D] though we hardly know why to be so strictly characteristic of the shadowy speaker. This is so independent of, and so superior to the art of the Choragus, that no theatrical decoration is capable of heightening its effect. What representation can give us such ideas of the ghost of Hamlet as we received from the terrible and pathetic dialogue between that aweful phantom and his fon. Perhaps the effect is stronger in the closet than on the stage. This is certainly the cafe with Macbeth. The witches with their high-crowned hats and broomsticks, might be objects of terror, in the reign of a monarch who wrote a treatise on their art, against which sanguinary laws were not only in existence but put into frequent and severe execution; but to us they are merely objects of ridicule, as having no hold either on our belief, or the faintest traces of [D] The cause of this is examined and investigated as far as it is capable of investigation, by the author of the Effay on the dramatic Character of Falstaff, page 71. our
POETIC OF ARISTOTLE. our recollection of fuch belief; and we are at full leisure to laugh at the grotesque figures of the mafculine and bearded women. The Bishop of Worcester in his Letters on Chivalry, mentions the superior horror of the gothic to the ancient superstition, and how much more we are affected by the ghosts and witches of Shakespear, than by the Lemures of antiquity. The fact as to the ghosts, at least with regard to ourselves is indisputable, and I think the reason of it is sufficiently obvious. The fictions of ancient mythology are only matters of amusement to us; but the gothic superstitions have, to most of us, been at one part of our lives the objects of our belief and our terror. For parental care has seldom been able entirely to guard our infancy from the impressions of the nursery. M. Leffing, in his criticism on the Semiramis of Voltaire, introduces so just a comparison between the machinery of Shakespear and Voltaire, that I shall make no apology for inserting it though it is of some length. • Is it never permitted now to admit a ghost on the scene? Is this • source of the terrible, of the pitiable entirely exhausted? By no means; ' that would be too great a loss to the poetic art. Cannot we produce ، many instances where genius confounds all our philosophy by rendering things terrible to the imagination, which to the cool reason would appear perfectly ridiculous? We must reason differently then; perhaps the first principle we argue from is not well-four.ded. "We “ believe no longer in apparitions." Who has faid this? Or rather, • what does it mean when it is said? Does it fignify that we are so far ⚫ enlightened as to be able to demonstrate their impossibility? Are those • incontestable truths which contradict the idea of such prodigies so universally spread, are they always so much in the minds of the people, Nn 2 ' that
، ' that every thing that is repugnant to them must necessarily appear ridiculous and absurd? That can never be the sense of the phrafe. "We believe no longer in apparitions," then can only mean this. On a fubject on which different opinions may be supported, and which never has been and never can be decided, the prevailing opinion of the ، day occasions the balance to preponderate on the negative side : many • individuals are convinced that there are no apparitions, a great many ⚫ more pretend to be convinced, and these harangue on the subject and give and support the fashionable doctrine. But the multitude are filent, they are indifferent on the subject, they sometimes take one fide ⚫ and sometimes the other, they laugh at ghosts in broad day-light, and • liften with trembling avidity at night to the terrible stories that are < told of them [E]. • The disbelief of spectres in this sense neither can nor ought to prevent the use of them in dramatic poetry. We have all in us at least • the feeds of this belief, and they will be found most in the minds of • the people for whom the [F] poet principally composes. It depends ⚫ on his art to make them vegetate, and on his address, in the rapidity of • the moment to give force to the arguments in favor of the reality of ⚫ these phantoms. If he succeeds, we may be at liberty in common • life to believe as we please, but at the theatre he will be the arbiter of our faith.
[E] I am too well convinced of the accuracy of M. Lessing's knowledge of human nature to doubt the truth of this account of German credulity. It would have better suited this country half a century ago than at present. But, even now, there are more people who will feel the truth of it than will own it, even in England.. [F] Especially the dramatic poet. It is faid of Moliere that he used to read all his comedies to an old female servant, and generally found her decisions confirmed by the public. Shakespear
• Shakespear knew this art, and he is almost the only one who ever • did know it. At the appearance of His ghost, in Hamlet, the hair • stands an end, whether it covers the brain of incredulity or supersti- ⚫tion. M. Voltaire was much in the wrong to appeal to this ghost, • which makes both him and his apparition of Ninus ridiculous. The ghoft of Shakespear really comes from the other world, at least it appears so to our feelings : for it arrives in the solemn hour, in the dead • filence of midnight, accompanied by all those gloomy and mysterious ، accessory ideas with which our nurses have taught us to expect the appearance of spectres; while that of Voltaire's is not fit even to terrify a child. It is merely an actor who neither says or does any thing to perfuade us he is what he pretends to be: on the contrary, all the 'circumstances with which it appears, destroy the illusion and betray the • hand of a cold poet who wishes indeed to deceive and terrify us, but • does not know how to go about it. It is in the middle of the day [G], ،
' in the middle of an assembly of the states of the empire, and preceded by a peal of thunder, that the spirit of Ninus makes its appearance from ⚫ the tomb. From whence did Voltaire learn that apparitions were fo • bold? What old woman could not have told him that apparitions were afraid of the light of the fun, and were not fond of visiting large [G] Shakespear knew the confequence of adapting his scenery to his action, in exciting terror by natural as well as supernatural agents. • The sun is in the heaven; and the proud day, • Attended with the pleasures of the world, • Is all too wanton and too full of gawds To give me audience :- if the midnight bell • Did with his iron tongue and brazen mouth, • Sound one unto the drowzy race of night: If this same were a church-yard where we stand.'- K. JOHN. • affemblies?
'assemblies? Voltaire was undoubtedly acquainted with all this; but ⚫ he was too cautious, too delicate, to make use of such trifling cir- 'cumstances. He was desirous indeed of shewing us a ghost, but he ، was determined it should be one of French extraction, decent, and ' noble. This decency spoiled the whole. A spectre, who takes liber- 'ties contrary to all custom, law, and established order of ghosts, does not seem to me a genuine spectre; and in this case, every thing that does not strengthen the illusion tends to destroy it. 红 • If Voltaire had examined with care, he would have felt the inconveniency, which on another account must attend the bringing a phantom before so many people. On its appearance, all the persons of the assembly (that is to say, all the actors who were representing the ' council of the queen and the states) ought to shew in their counte- ، nances all the terror that the situation required; each ought even to shew it differently from the rest to avoid the cold uniformity of a ballet. How could such a troop of stupid assistants be trained to this exercise? • And when it had fucceeded as well as possible, would not this variety ⚫ of expression of the same sentiment have divided the attention of the spectators, and necessarily have drawn it from the principal characters ? That these may make a strong impression on us, it is not only necessary • that we should fee them, but it is also proper that we should fee nothing else. • In Shakespear, it is only with Hamlet that the ghost converses. In • the scene where the mother is present, the spectre is neither seen or ⚫ heard by her. All our attention then is fixed on him alone; and the ، more we discover in him the signs of a foul distracted by terror and • surprize, the more cause we have to think the apparition which occa- • fions
POETIC OF ARISTOTLE. • fions such agitations, as real as he seems to believe it. The [H] ghost ، operates more on us through him, than itself. The impreffion that it • makes on him passes into our minds, and the effect is too sensible and ⚫ too strong for us to doubt of an extraordinary cause. Of this secret, • Voltaire knew little. It is precisely because his spectre tries to ' terrify many people, that it produces little terror in any one. Semi- ⚫ ramis cries out once only, " O, heaven, I die!" and the other assist- ⚫ ants are very little more affected by the shade of Ninus, than they ' would be by the unexpected appearance of a friend, whom they be- ' lieved to be at a distance. • I observe also another difference between the French and English • spectre. The first is only a poetical machine solely employed to [1] • unravel the plot; we take no interest in him. On the contrary, the Not that it was [H] Fielding makes Partridge account for his fear in the fame manner. • the ghost that surprized me neither: for I should have known that to have been only a man • in a strange dress: but when I saw the little man so frightened himself it was that which took < hold of me.' TOM JONES, Book xvr. Chap. v. [1] This intention however is expressly disavowed by Voltaire; and what is rather surprizing, in a paragraph in which he quotes, with approbation, the celebrated rule of Horace, • Nec deus intersit nisi dignus vindice nodus.' • I would have (he fays) these bold attempts never employed, except when they serve at the ' same time to add to the intrigue and the terror of the piece; and I would wish by all means ⚫ that the intervention of these supernatural beings should not appear absolutely necessary. I • will explain myself: if the plot of a tragic poem is so involved in difficulty, that the poet can • only free himself from the embarrassment by the aid of a prodigy, the spectator will perceive • the distress of the author and the weakness of the resource.' DISSERTATION ON TRAGEDY PREFIXED TO SEMIRAMIS. • other
، ، ⚫ other is really an efficient person of the drama, in whose fate we are interested; he excites not only terror, but compaffion also. ، This has probably arisen from the different manner in which these two authors have confidered the general notion of apparitions. Voltaire has regarded the appearance of a dead person as a miracle, and Shakespear as a natural event. Which of the two thought most as a philosopher is a question that we have nothing at all to do with; but the Englishman thought most as a poet.' DRAMATURGIE, Part I. page 39, et seq. ، After all, though there is great truth in much that is here advanced, I do not think an English audience would now endure a ghost from a modern hand, however well executed. That we have still belief in apparitions sufficient for dramatic effect, is obvious from the reception of Shakespear's Ghosts. But we require that the poet should have rather a stronger credulity. This is illustrated by the comparison between the faith of Shakespear and Voltaire in the concluding paragraph of the quotation. Every modern poet must be in the predicament of the 1atter. There is very nearly the fame distinction between the machinery of Homer [K] and Virgil. An instance perhaps of the marvellous pushed too far, may be drawn from Dryden's Edipus. I have read fomewhere, that on the revival of that tragedy, the audience were disgusted with the variety of prodigies, and the ghost of Laius with his numerous attendants. Brumoy, (Vol. I. page 393) speaking of Seneca's Edipus, fays, Creon makes a more [K] See note I, chap. xxiv. ' than
POETIC OF ARISTOTLE. ⚫ than infernal description of the prodigies he had feen.' And Dryden in the preface to his tragedy, prides himself for bringing that before the audience which Seneca had only described. Perhaps he chose here to enter the lifts with Shakespear. It would have been more conducive to his reputation, if he had recollected his own words in the prologue to his Tempest, where he tried to imitate and add to the machinery of a play, which was in every respect inimitable. • But Shakespear's magic could not copied be; • Within that circle none durst walk but he.' We have lately seen an attempt of the fame kind by a person of the highest eminence in a fister art, whose recent loss is justly an object of national concern. I mean the fiend at the head of the dying Cardinal in the celebrated picture of Sir Joshua Reynolds, in the Shakespear gallery.
14.2.
mvp-aristotle-comment-47
14.10
IT NOT BEING ALLOWABLE TO ALTER ESSENTIALLY STORIES THAT HAVE BEEN GENERALLY RECEIVED, BUT, FOR EXAMPLE, CLYTEMNESTRA MUST BE KILLED BY ORESTES, AND ERIPHYLE BY ALCMEON; IT IS THE DUTY OF THE POET TO FIND OUT SUCH TRADITIONAL STORIES, AND EMPLOY THEM SKILFULLY.
TO explain clearly my notion of the spirit of this precept, it will be necessary to give some degree of paraphrafe. The critic has decided on what incidents, and between what persons, the force of the passions of pity and terror should be founded. But he then adds, that it not being allowable
allowable for the poet to alter the essential circumstances of known stories, he ought to feek out for such historical events as furnish those tragical incidents; and having found them, to employ and arrange the circumstances in such a manner, as to give them the greatest force on the feelings of the audience. There are three opinions on the meaning of the phrafe in the original, Αυθὸν δὲ ἑυρίσκειν δεῖ. καὶ τοις παραδεδομένοις χρῆσθαι καλῶς. The most general is, that it directs the poet to invent new fables himself, like the [L] Anthos of Agathon, and arrange the circumstances of traditional stories properly; another is, that the poet should find out new historical subjects; and the third, that he should find out new stories, making a proper use of fables already received, which is that adopted by Dacier, but seems to me wrong as to the last part of the fentence. In my former edition I had followed the first interpretation. But the [M] arguments of Mr. Twining, to which I refer the critical reader, are so convincing in favor of the second, though he has admitted the first into the text of his tranflation, that I have followed him without hefitation. This argument seems confirmed also by what Aristotle says in the last chapter, and repeats again in this, of the scarcity of proper dramatic fubjects. On which account, it may justly be confidered as the duty of the poet to feek diligently for fables which afford fuch incidents.. I cannot however agree with Mr. Twining, in thinking that ἑυρίσκειν is obviously opposed to τοις παραδεδομένοις χρῆσθαι. If that were the cafe, I should be still inclined to adhere to the first tranflation.; but I think it [L] See chap. Ix.. [M] See his note civ.. cannot.
POETIC OF ARISTOTLE. cannot be justified without altering the conjunction καὶ, which, taking in the sense of the whole passage, seems to connect and not diftinguish the [N] finding of the fable, and the employment of its circumstances when found. Among all the editors and commentators who have written on Shakefpear's Hamlet, and who have traced its fource in an old novel, founded on an event recorded by Saxo Grammaticus, I am furprized that no one has noticed the striking resemblance between Hamlet and Orestes. But though this has not been remarked by his countrymen, it has not escaped the observation of a French critic. It appears from a letter of the Abbé Le Blanc, to the French dramatic poet Crebillon [o], that the Abbé Prevot has written a comparison between the tragedies of Electra and Hamlet, in which he commends the English poet because wiser than Sophocles, he forbids young Hamlet, by the apparition of the ghost, to attempt any thing against his mother's life.' And Le Blanc himself was so much struck with the resemblance as to say, he is 'inclined to ⚫ think the likeness between the tragedy of Hamlet, and the Greek one • of Electra, is not the mere effect of chance, but that we may eafily • discover the perfon of Oreftes in Hamlet, which Shakespear has ac- [N] The English translators of Aristotle and other Greek writers, have frequently been drawn into error by the Latin word for ἑυρίσκω. INVENIO. of which the English word, IN- VENT, though its derivative, is by no means the proper tranflation. Ποιέω signifies to invent in the sense which is here supposed, and is universally used for it in this work, and its proper Latin translation is FINGO. But though Ariftotle's precepts here, as well as the examples with which he illuftrates them are drawn from received fables, they apply equally to those which are the pure invention of the poet. [o] See Letters on the English and French Nations, Let. LIX. commodated
• commodated to his own manner of writing.' There certainly are more circumstances of co-incidence between the stories of Hamlet and Orestes, than can well be refolved into accident. As the monarch being killed by a brother in one, a coufin german in the other, who possesses his wife and ufurps his throne; the fon robbed of his right, his life treacheroufly attempted, and himself urged to vengeance by supernatural means; the friendship of Hamlet for Horatio, and Orestes for Pylades, both of whom by the way are cyphers in the action, and even the madness of Hamlet when joined with the other circumstances. And here I must remark, that the advantage of Shakespear over Sophocles, allowed by the French critic, arofe from the former not being fettered by this precept of Aristotle; and being at liberty to free his chief character from the horrid crime of matricide, without altering an essential incident of a well-known history.
14.3.
mvp-aristotle-comment-48
14.11
I WILL EXPLAIN MORE CLEARLY WHAT I MEAN BY SKILFULLY.
THOUGH Aristotle is here laying down rules for giving the best arrangement to those leading circumstances in received or traditional stories, which the poet is not allowed to alter, it is obfervable, that of all the examples he gives, the story of Alcmæon and Eriphyle is the only one in which the manner of the event, as well as the event itself, is not according to received opinion. Medea is always supposed to destroy her children knowingly, and the incest and parricide of Edipus to be involuntary, and so of the reft.. NOTE
14.4.
mvp-aristotle-comment-49
14.15
AND THERE IS NO OTHER METHOD EXCEPT THESE, FOR A PER- SON MUST EITHER ACT, OR NOT ACT, AND MUST EITHER KNOW, OR BE IGNORANT OF, THE CONSEQUENCES OF THE ACTION.
OF these methods, according to the opinion of Aristotle, at least as delivered in this chapter, the following is the order in point of merit, beginning according to his usual custom with the lowest degree. First, for the character to meditate some atrocious crime, perfectly acquainted with its consequence and the relation which the object of it bears to him, and to desist from the perpetration of it from a change of sentiment. The example Aristotle brings of this is the intention of Hæmon to kill his father in the Antigone of Sophocles... The Love Triumphant of Dryden furnishes a modern instance. The catastrophe of As You Like It, depends on the ufurper changing his purpose.. Secondly, for a character in the same predicament to execute the purpose. Medea is the example of Aristotle. We may produce Othello and Macbeth. Thirdly, for a character to perform some terrible action ignorant of the consequence, and the relation of the object, and to make the discovery afterwards; of this Edipus and the Orphan are examples. Fourthly,
Fourthly, for a character, in the fame circumstance with the last, to discover the consequence and the relation before the purpose is executed. Of this Merope will ferve both for an ancient and modern example. Dryden's Conquest of Granada furnishes another. Discovery of persons is not so often the hinge on which the modern drama turns, as discovery of innocence or other circumstances. In which cafe the first and last species will be often blended. (P) Othello will be removed from the second to the third class, which will also comprehend Zara [2]. Having stated these different forms, it remains to examine how far Aristotle appears right as to the respective rank in which he classes them according to their comparative excellence, and particularly to enquire how far he is justified in the fevere sentence he passes on the first; and how the preference he appears to give the last can be reconciled with the opinion he delivers as to tragedy, in the preceding chapter. In doing this, I shall endeavour as much as I am able, to keep the observations on the respective forms separate. Though from the neceffity of comparing them with each other, it will be impoffible sometimes to avoid blending them. In regard to the first arrangement; its only difference from the second arifes from the want of the pathos, the actual suffering of fome person, [P] For want of a circumstance of this fort the fable of Medea is infinitely more shocking, and less interesting than that of Othello. The discovery of Iago's villainy, and Desdemona's innocence, are affecting in the highest degree. [Q] When the first and second species have no discovery whatever, they will of course remain as classed by Ariftotle. which
POETIC OF ARISTOTLE. which Aristotle thinks so necessary for tragedy; and the decision of Aristotle in this place, makes his preference of such tragedies as Merope still more wonderful; since this mode has exactly the same difference from the second that the fourth has from the third; for the improbability of the change of fentiment, on which something might be faid, is not what Ariftotle censures, but the want of (R) effect, because no perfon fuffers. In the tragedy of Macbeth, the first and second modes are mixed. Macbeth and his wife are both acquainted with their relation to Duncan,, by the joint ties of blood, of gratitude, of allegiance, and of hofpitality. The former executes the act, while Lady Macbeth on the point of doing it defifts, because as she says, he ' resembled her father as he fslept.' This stroke has been frequently admired, as marking the natural tenderness and sympathy of the female fex in action, even when capable of urging another to the most atrocious deeds of cruelty. [s] Metastasio approves this first arrangement as giving the strongest powers of marking and concluding the struggle between the various contending suggestions of love, of reason, of manners, and of despair, by an act of fuicide; and he draws his example from the same source with Aristotle, the Antigone of Sophocles. If Hæmon, worked up to the highest degree of frenzy, by the struggle between conjugal love and [R] Ου τραγικὸν, απαθὲς γὰρ.. [s] ESTRATTO DELLA POETICA, page 272. The reader who wishes to compare this with Metastasio, will observe, that he enumerates the forms according to their merit, while I have followed the order of Aristotle. parental
parental cruelty, on the point (T) of plunging his sword into the bosom of his father, had turned it against his own; he observes, and justly, that in such an arrangement the paffions of pity and terror would be strongly excited, and the indispensable (u) Ariftotelian pathos, the perturbation arifing from the fight of wounds, and death, still preserved. But this production of pity and terror, arifing from a struggle between remorse and paffion as to the commiffion of an atrocious crime, and terminating in the resolution of committing it, whether fuch resolution is actually carried into execution or not, is branded by Aristotle with the epithet of [x] disgustful. Corneille is of a different opinion from Ariftotle as to this. He allows indeed the theatrical effect which attends the discovery incident to the third and fourth modes, and especially the fourth, to be particularly striking; and that the incident in Merope (of which I shall speak more at large presently) is the most affecting that can be imagined. But he adds, all this beauty is confined to the single moment of the discovery; ' that is to fay, the end of the drama (v); throughout the whole course ' of which the principal character remains in the same situation of [T] I do not recollect such an incident in any regular modern drama; but there is something like it in an anomalous dramatic poem of Lord Lansdowne's, called the British Enchanters, where Conftantius in despair, catches his favored rival by the throat, and is on the point of stabbing him, till recollecting the distress it will bring on his mistress, he exclaims, • But for Oriana's fake 'tis better here,' and instantly kills himself. [U] 'Patos Ariftotelico." [*] μιαρόν. [x] Which by the way is not the cafe in the modern tragedies of Merope. • wishing
POETIC OF ARISTOTLE. • wishing to kill a person neither connected by friendship or confanguinity. A fituation not tragical, according to Ariftotle himself. From • whence the poet can find no opportunity of agitating the paffions. But on the contrary in the other cafe, (that of Medea) where an atrocious • deed is knowingly purposed and executed; the continual agitation of ⚫ the principal character always fluctuating between love and rage, be- ، tween the defire of vengeance and the horror of the deed, will not be • confined to the catastrophe but will pervade the whole tragedy. Since • the causes which lead by degrees to the conception of so horrid a design, the repugnancy of natural affection, the passions of rage and * tenderness that must alternately prevail, will furnish the poet with ample materials for shewing his principal character in situations always new, always violent, and always perplexing, till the last impulfe that • finally fixes his resolution.' It is impoffible to avoid feeing the truth and justice of these remarks. Why then should Aristotle call this arrangement disgustful? Perhaps we may trace the cause in the nature of the ancient theatre, which, rather calculated to represent [z] action than paffion, was ill qualified for the exhibition of this struggle between those contending sensations, which could not, in cases of extreme guilt especially, be opened at large in the prefence of a chorus [A], and therefore the criminal intent appears to the audience in all its horrors, without any alleviating circumstance. [z] See Note VII, Chap. XIII. [A] In the Medea of Euripides, the chorus argue strongly with her on her unnatural defign. The struggle in her own bosom is drawn in much fainter colors; and her fixed resolution in fo horrid a design is well calculated to excite the disgust mentioned by Ariftotle. Pp In
In this point, that is in the continuation of the interest arifing from contending and contradictory passions, the first and second modes exactly agree. It remains to examine the catastrophe in which they differ. The prevention of the perpetration of a horrid crime by suicide, as proposed by Metaftafio [B], would certainly have a good theatrical effect, but it does not exactly come under the censure that Ariftotle gives to the catastrophe occafioned by the change of mind only, without any positive action, and therefore is not an answer to it. When in the course of the struggle, reason alone preponderates againft paffion, and the character desists from acting, merely from reflection, the conflict will either not appear to be carried to the highest pitch, or the change of purpose will seem to want a fufficient cause [c]; for if it happens from any extraneous cause whatever, apparently adequate to work such a change, it will have all the effect of a discovery, and the species will be changed from the first to the fourth. [B] Racine has managed this matter in a very extraordinary mode in his tragedy of the Thebaide. Creon and his fon are rivals for the affections of Antigone. Hæmon is killed in trying to feparate Eteocles and Polynices, who, as is well known, fell each by the other's fword in fingle combat; and Creon finding his rivals, both in love and ambition, removed by the death of his fon and his kinsmen, offers his hand and his throne to Antigone, who chose rather to facrifice her life to the memory of her lover and her brothers. On which Creon, after having called on heaven to deftroy him with a thunder bolt, faints away in the arms of his guards; reminding us a little of Kitty's speech in THE WHAT D'YE CALL IT. • Lead me to bed and there I'll moan and weep, < And close these weary eyes in death or fleep.' [c] It must be acknowledged that the story of Coriolanus, which is certainly a very good one for a tragedy, depends on a change of resolution; and the fame may be faid of Dryden's Love Triumphant, on the catastrophe of which he prided himself, and which is really a good But in both these cases, the change of resolution is occafioned by conclusive reasoning and earnest resolution: the combat is violent, and the victory gradual. one. • A French
A French poet, M. de Longe Pierre, has chosen to give this arrangement to the story of Medea, whom he has represented on the • very point of murdering her infants; but at the instant she is going to facrifice them to her vengeance, her tenderness revives, the dagger • falls from her hands, she is not able to perpetrate the crime she • had meditated, which occafioned a surprise as lively as it was unexpected.' I have quoted this from the work of an anonymous French writer, entitled PRINCIPES POUR LA LECTURE DES POETES. If the French poet has taken this liberty with the fable of Medea, and transferred it from the second species to the first, an eminent writer of our own has chosen to give the fable of Edipus, or at least the most disgusting, if not the most tragic part of it, with heightened circumstances and another name, the form of an intentional perpetration. I mean the printed, though unpublished tragedy, of the MYSTERIOUS MOTHER. If as Ariftotle, and after him Horace affert, the poet to affect others must put himself into the situation of his character, one would wonder how such a work could be [D] the production of the elegant and humane author to whom it is ascribed. I cannot however here avoid the mention of one of the finest possible dramatic effects that it contains; which though a natural event, has all the force and the appearance of a ma- [D] One of the reasons given by Plato in his Republic, 1. III. for banishing the poets from his commonwealth is, because from putting themselves often in the situations of vicious men, whose sentiments they want to express, they will in time be apt to acquire those manners which they are so often in the habit of imitating. I believe this observation is more ingenious than true. Nothing is more common than to see the poetical and natural character of the fame person perfectly at variance with each other. The gloomy genius of Young's muse was not confined to his Night Thoughts, it is strongly to be traced through all his tragedies; and yet he is faid to have been a very chearful man, and to have actually been the first to fet on foot an affembly at Welwyn, in Hertfordshire, where he resided.
chine. I mean when the priest is opening to his colleague his horrid scheme, and his determination to perfift in it, the fudden interruption by a voice from within crying, Forbear!' which strikes even such a character with horror, till the repetition of it shews both him and the spectators, that it is only the first word of a choral hymn, sung behind the scenes. As the first and fecond modes are exactly alike in the course of the fable, fo are the third and fourth, and only diftinguished by the cataftrophe. The principal observations therefore as to the comparative merit of these forms must relate to the catastrophe, which will neceffa-- rily involve in them those circumstances in which they agree. The first thing that strikes us here is the seeming contradiction in the opinion of the critic, who apparently gives the preference, and that in a very strong expreffion, to that catastrophe which feems only to differ from the other in terminating in happiness instead of distress. His opinion on that point has not only been decidedly given in the preceding chapter, but even in this; for he does not blame the catastrophe in the first form because it is brought about by improbable means, but because. it is not tragical.. Many have been the labors of critics, and translators, to clear up this point, and reconcile the opposite doctrines. But I own I think none of them fatisfactory. Some of these I shall state which appear the most plausible, at the fame time mentioning my own objections to them. But while I confefs this general dissatisfaction, as to all that the searches of others, or my own reason can suggest on this subject, my opinion is inclined to that of M. Leffing, though. I do not entirely subscribe to his
POETIC OF ARISTOTLE. his solution of the difficulty. That ingenious and candid critic, after mentioning a fellow-countryman, Mr. Curtius, who declares it to be his idea that Ariftotle has not treated this article with his usual exactness, proceeds thus: ' I own this does not appear probable to me. A • writer like Aristotle is scarcely liable to fuch flagrant contradiction; • when therefore I find the appearance of it in the works of such a man, • I distrust my own judgment rather than his. I redouble my attention; • I read the passage ten times; and I am not able to perfuade myself he * can have contradicted what he has formerly afferted till after I have • examined, through all the combination of his system, how and on what account he could be drawn into that contradiction; and if I do not • find any thing that gave rise to it, and which must in some measure ' have rendered it inevitable, I am convinced it is only apparent, for * otherwise it must have occurred to Aristotle, who had fo often exa- ' mined his matter with more attention than I can possibly have done, • who enter newly on the subject and chuse him for my guide [E].' Just as this reasoning is in general, it is not however absolutely conclufive, and especially the last sentence. Though a man must know his own meaning better than another, it does not follow that he shall have formed a regular chain of causes and confequences in a [F] hasty sketch, which I conceive this piece to be, and not a finished work. Or even if it was, who has ever yet formed a compofition in which it is impoffible for criticism to find a fingle inaccuracy? On this ground we may fuppose, (I hazard it merely as a conjecture,) that the philosopher who has mentioned the [G] intent to kill as equivalent to the actual execution of that intent, in examining the subject farther, and being inquisitive after [E] Dramaturgie, Part 1. page 178.. [c] Ἢ ἀποκτείνη ἢ μέλλη.. [F] See preface.. truth,
A COMMENTARY ON THE CHAP. XIV. truth, and not supporting an hypothesis, without confidering exactly what he had faid before, might be led to remark, that if the tragic effect was carried to the greatest height, and the distressful catastrophe seemed inevitable, it was better to avoid the commiffion of a deed too [H] shocking for representation, even through ignorance of the relation, though the consequence should be, a catastrophe accompanied by a change from mifery to happiness. This in fact, had the treatife been compleat, might have been so explained as to have been no contradiction to his former decifion; for it by no means follows that what is in general preferable must absolutely and invariably be so in every cafe, and under all poffible circumstances [1]. M. Batteux tries to vindicate Aristotle on the supposition that he does not mean the best manner in general, but the best of these four modes; forgetting that he has faid there are no other modes except these four, and that he is pointing out the best way of conducting properly a tragic fable. Dacier takes up partly the same idea, that Aristotle is not speaking of fable in general, but only giving directions how to manage atrocious [Η] τι τῶν ἀνηκέςων. [1] See Mr. Twining's note 106, who defends Aristotle exactly on this principle, supposing him to say, When the circumstances of the traditional story from which the poet takes his < plot, are such as leave him only the alternative either of disgusting and shocking the spec- › tator, or of gratifying his wishes, the latter is clearly to be preferred, and the διπλῆ σύςασις › to which I affigned the second place, will in that particular case deserve the first. But is not this idea both of Mr. Twining and myself rather a justification of Ariftotle's supposed opinion in this place than a reconciliation of it with his former decifion, since he is certainly speaking of the general construction of tragic fable, and not of particular exceptions ? actions
POETIC OF ARISTOTLE. actions properly, without changing the essential part of the fable. When, for instance, the murder of Clytemnestra by Orestes is fixed on for the subject of a tragedy, we should examine which arrangement would fuit it best. The first will not fuit it as being too atrocious and efssentially altering the story; the second, (which is the real fact by the way, and which the three (K) Greek tragic poets that remain to us have adopted) will be too horrible; the fourth would entirely destroy the received fable; therefore the third only remains. But would not the fable be equally destroyed by this; and is it not an essential part of the story that Orestes does not kill his mother by accident, but to revenge his father's death? It is true such an alteration is faid to be made in the tragedy of Eriphyle, but as we have no circumstantial account of that story, or do not know with what variation it may have been related, or have any remains of the tragedy, we can only say that it does not feem to fall exactly under the fame predicament with the story of Orestes and Clytemnestra, which is recorded by Homer (L) as well as the three principal ornaments of the Grecian tragic drama. It would however have been on this account a much better example for Dacier to have chosen. M. Lessing, immediately after the passage I have quoted from him, undertakes the defence of Aristotle on another ground. He argues that the affecting part of the tragedy arifing from peripetía and discovery are distinct things from the catastrophe, and that they often happen prior to it: as, for instance, in the fourth act of the Edipus: as alfo in the Iphigenia in Tauris of Euripides, and the very tragedy he is criticising, [K] In the Choephori of Æschylus, and the Electra of Euripides and Sophocles. [L] Homer does indeed mention Eriphyle, but in a very cursory manner. the
the Merope of Voltaire and Maffei. M. Lessing then adds, That it ' is easy to shew in the fubject of Merope itself, how perfectly it is ، poffible in the fame fable to combine the most tragical [M] peripetía with the most tragical pathos. We find indeed the last, but what * hinders us also from having the first? Suppose, for example, after having discovered her fon before the killed him, she had occafioned • afterwards either his death, or her own, by her zeal to protect him against Polyphontes. Why might not this piece terminate as well by • the death of the mother as of the tyrant? Why might not the poet * be permitted to carry our pity for a most affectionate mother to the < highest degree, and then make her perish through that very affection, or to cause the son to fall by the artifice of the tyrant after having escaped the vengeance of his mother? Would not fuch a Merope unite ⚫ in effect the two properties of the best form of tragedy which the • critics have found so contradictory? As to the former part of the question the answer is obvious. That the discovery of the son in Merope, and the brother in Iphigenia in Tauris comprehends peripetía as well as pathos there cannot be a doubt. And a poet may, if he pleases, introduce two or ten peripetías in the course of his drama, alternately counteracting the effect of each other. But that after giving a very strong and pathetic peripetía tending to happiness, the addition of a distressful catastrophe would unite two beauties supposed to be incompatible, is so far from the cafe that it must destroy the effect of both. It is indeed an arrange- [M] It is a bold step to render κράτισος, by most tragical. In the use of this word, as in many others, the figurative sense is more familiar than the direct one; most tragical is not fynonymous with beft fitted for tragedy. Were I to say the pathos of Merope is more according to the proper rule of tragedy than Edipus, but the catastrophe is not fo tragical, I think the diftinct meaning of each would be clearly understood, however improper it might be to oppose them to each other in the same sentence. ment
POETIC OF ARISTOTLE. ment of fable that I believe no poet has ever yet attempted, and which I believe, if it were attempted, no audience would endure. As to the new catastrophe proposed for Merope, (which if Euripides had chofen it for his Cresphontes would have been directly in oppofition to the rule of Aristotle, as to deviating from received fables,) it is exactly that of Douglas, who absolutely perishes from his mother's too earnest anxiety for his preservation; but there is no previous happy peripetía. Lady Randolph's finding a son she imagined had perished when an infant by accident is nothing like the circumstance in Merope. As for the discovery and peripetía in [N] the Œdipus fo long before the cataftrophe, it has all the weight that an error in a great writer ought to have in justifying fucceeding poets for copying his blemishes, if they are not able to imitate his excellencies. It must be remembered [o] also that Ariftotle recommends that species of tragedy where the peripetía and discovery are united, and that he expressly says the discovery is a transition from ignorance to knowledge, producing either friendship or hatred, in the characters as they are designed for happiness or misery; that is, in other words, occafioning the catastrophe. In the Iphigenia in Tauris indeed, the difficulty and distress continue after the discovery as they do in the modern tragedies of Merope. Of the Helle we know nothing. But I cannot be perfuaded that the scene in Merope of Euripides, the effect of which is so highly spoken of, could be in any other place than the catastrophe. M. Lessing is very fevere on Voltaire for his misrepresentation of Aristotle in his epistle to Maffei, wherein he asserts that the philosopher [N] See Note 1. Chap. VII. [o] See Poetic, Chap. xx. • does
• does not fcruple to call the recognition of Merope and her fon the • most interesting moment of the Greek scene.' Here Voltaire has undoubtedly been guilty of a mistake, either wilfully or accidentally. Ariftotle says no such thing. But that it was highly interesting indeed, we have the authority of Plutarch, who must have been a better judge than any modern can poffibly be. Behold,' he says, ' Merope in the ، tragedy, lifting the axe over her fon as fuppofing him the murderer of • that fon, and saying, " This arm to thee a juster wound shall give." • What a confusion it occasions among the audience, who start up ⚫ through terror and anxiety, lest she should anticipate the arrival of the • old man and strike the youth [P].' Such was exactly what I felt the first time I saw the representation of King Lear, the alteration of which I had never previously read. Why Maffei and Voltaire, who were at liberty to have acted as they pleased in this respect, chose to infert this interesting scene in the middle of the piece rather than in the catastrophe, I cannot determine. It could not be from any difficulty in arranging the mode. It appears from Plutarch that Merope is going to destroy her fon with an axe, and with an axe of facrifice Voltaire makes the tyrant fall at the altar'; the two events therefore of the discovery of the young man and the death of Polyphontes, might have happened almost at the fame moment. Perhaps the choice of the plan they adopted was influenced by a defire of imitating the arrangement of Aristotle's other example, the Iphigenia in Tauris. But without applying to authority our own feelings will con- [P] Plutarch Περί Σαρκοφ. vince
POETIC OF ARISTOTLE. vince us the effect of the two scenes must be very different in point of interest. We can never be affected in the same manner by a virgin priestess, who is in the habit of facrificing innocent strangers to Diana, and a mother frantic to revenge the death of a beloved fon on his supposed murderer. Perhaps we may impute this to another cause, the difficulty of keeping up through five acts, an interest in a situation so little affecting as the wish to kill a supposed criminal, neither connected by friendship or blood. But the poet might have supplied this, and made the agitation of the spectator compenfate for the deficiency of it in the character, by informing him of the real connection of Merope and the young man, which must obviously have been the case in the Greek tragedy mentioned by Plutarch. It is true when the discovery is made at the fame time to the spectator and the character, the impreffion on the feelings is greatly increased; but the effect of fuch a discovery is weakened after the first representation [Q]. ، The discovery of Ion in a tragedy of Euripides, imitated by Mr. Whitehead in his Creusa, seems to me in the original, the most perfectly affecting and surprising of any extant, either ancient or modern. To use the words of the Jesuit Poree, which I cite from Mr. Mason's Life of Whitehead, prefixed to the third volume of his works.. In spite of all the faults either real or apparent that may be found in this piece, nothing can be conceived more perfectly theatrical than the representation of a mother on the point of killing her unknown fon, ⚫ and at the fame time of dying unknown by his hands, when at the ، [Q] See Dramaturgie, Part. 1. p. and Note vI. Chap. xvI. and Note 11. Chap. x1. • fame
* same time this double project of parricide serves to restore the fon to * his mother and the mother to her fon.' Perfectly agreeing as I do with Mr. Mason in applauding the great skill of the English poet in the general improvement he has made of this tragedy in his Creusa, I must with him with he had not deviated so much from Euripides in the cataftrophe, to which I suppose he was induced by a defire to adhere to the precept of Aristotle laid down in the last chapter, and to render more tragical that poet whom he had declared the most tragical of the Greek dramatic writers. On examining this passage and the context with attention, we may poffibly find at last that every attempt to reconcile Aristotle with his own reasoning even here, is perfectly impossible, supposing him really to give the preference to the last arrangement. It will be in vain to excuse such a preference on any partial ground, such as that though it might not be the best general form, it may become so in certain instances, or in some particular parts of the drama. Since he declares it not to be so when compared with the other forms, on those very principles from which he decides on their merit; and that not in a different part of the work but in this identical place. The first form he totally rejects because disgustful from the atrocious design, and yet not productive of tragic effect as no one fuffers. Why he gives the preference over this to the next he does not mention, but the reason is clear, for though he cenfures it on account of the disgust arifing from the atrociousness of the design, it has yet the tragic effect he requires. The third species he tells us in express terms is free from the disgust occafioned by a wilful criminal intent, and besides this will have the interest arifing from an unexpected discovery, which is an advantage the other two do not possess. But besides this advantage over the other two it will poffefs the
POETIC OF ARISTOTLE. the tragic effect of the second. The last mode will possess the radical advantage of avoiding the criminal intent, and the adventitious one of the unexpected discovery. But it will be deficient in the radical advantage of producing tragic effect from personal suffering, which he is here infifting on, and in which the third mode is not deficient; and therefore Ariftotle cannot give the preference to the fourth mode without forsaking the very ground on which he is absolutely then arguing. But let us go a little back. When Ariftotle first explains what he means by a skilful arrangement of the fable he names only two modes. The most obvious one, and what was generally practised by the older writers, was the simple perpetration of some great crime, not indeed through radical depravity but through paffion, knowing the situation of the persons who were the objects of it; like the Medea of Euripides. To this however has been discovered an improvement which will obviate any disgust arifing from the intentional crime, by making the character ignorant of the connexion of the person who is the object of his vengeance with himself. He now recollects a third mode besides, but which seems to be only suggested by his mention of the other two, as that which he absolutely condemns appears to be brought to his mind by the enumeration of the four only possible forms which arifes from the cafual recollection of this. If these obfervations are right how shall we justify the approbation that Ariftotle gives to the last mode? But has he given fuch approbation? It will be a little fingular if after the censure M. Lessing has bestowed on Voltaire with no niggardly hand, for the hyperbolical eulogium he bestows on this scene in Merope, that the pen of the French poet,
poet [R], like the random pencil of Apelles, should have at once done what so much skill and pains had been in vain employed to do, and that he should have given, though with fome exaggeration indeed, the true meaning of Aristotle, which at once folves every difficulty, and restores the confiftency of his theatrical doctrine. Let us confider the force of the word κράτιςος, and its fituation here. The primary sense of this word, as given by all the lexicographers, as confirmed by a thousand passages from ancient writers, and in conformity to its derivation, is [s] MOST POWERFUL. Why the commentators and translators have universally chosen to give it here the general sense of BEST I can fee no cause but from its immediately following Βέλτιον, the very reason as I should conceive that would have made against that sense of the word. For I believe it is very unusual in comparison of adjectives to mention one word in the positive, another in the comparative, and another in the superlative degree, yet all in the same sense. Stephens in his Lexicon, on the word κράτιςος, after giving many instances of its fignifying MOST STRONG and MOST POWERFUL, adds, 'that it is • sometimes more conveniently rendered by BEST, even in some of the places that he has cited.' The same thing may certainly be said of MOST STRONG or MOST POWERFUL, in our own language, or of FOR- TISSIMUS or VALIDISSIMUS, or VIRIBUS PRÆSTANS, in Latin; but I do not think they could well be confidered as the proper superlative of BETTER or MELIOR. Were I to say such a thing is better than another, but a third has the strongest effect, the superlative strongest (R) I imagine Voltaire was no Greek scholar.. S [s] I have in this edition of my translation ventured to tranflate it, having the most • powerful effect. must
POETIC OF ARISTOTLE. must be taken generally as far as that particular quality goes, and not as the superlative of better; though if strength of effect were the quality on which the merit of the subject depended, it would certainly imply it. The fame will hold in Latin. • Melius eft ignarum feciffe, factumque agnoviffe, fortiffimum vero, poftremum.' Could there be in this case any reason for supposing FORTISSIMUM could poffibly be confidered as the superlative of MELIUS? It seems very natural for Aristotle, after having mentioned the two modes he most approved as having the proper pathos in the catastrophe, and given the preference to the latter as avoiding a fault incident to the former, the wilful perfeverance in an atrocious crime, knowing it to be so, and possessing besides a striking discovery, to reflect on the instant that one of the forms he had been condemning possessed this last in a more extraordinary manner, as being capable of producing the strongest dramatic effect poffible, which is by no means an hyperbolical tranflation of κράτιςος, supposing it to be applied in this manner. Surely then there is no inconfistency in relating a fact, however it may make against his own hypothesis, and that it must have been a fact is obvious. Ariftotle in the last chapter shews the great predilection of an Athenian audience for the happy catastrophe: and Plutarch bears a strong teftimony to the effect of the scene between Merope and her fon; and our own feelings will justify this. There is also another reason befides the gratification of our feelings why the happy discovery and peripetía must be more striking than the unhappy one. The reverfe of fortune must be foreseen, or at least suspected in the tragedy ending in distress, or the body of the drama must be deficient both in incident and interest: but the more the tragedy of the other form is filled with distress, the more imminent and inevitable
inevitable the fatal conclufion appears; the stronger will the tragic effect be throughout the course of the drama, and the force of the peripetía and discovery more violent in proportion as they are unexpected and fudden; and they cannot be too much so if they do not exceed the bounds of probability. I do not recollect any tragedy ending unhappily in which the peripetía is not either misery added to former fuffering, or the accomplishment of the expectation of it; as in the Edipus, the Fatal Marriage, and Douglas. I have already mentioned the effect of the scene. in Tate's King Lear. Shakespear tried to create a peripetía of an oppofite kind, by raising our expectation of both Cordelia and Lear's safety through. the interference of the dying Edmund. Perhaps this example may give a full explanation of Ariftotle's use of κράτιςος. We will suppose him reasoning on the alteration of Shakespear's Lear with all his prejudice in favour of the unhappy catastrophe. • I will allow,' he might say,' that Tate, though an inferior poet, has by a small and probable change • introduced a most striking and affecting situation; we are at once • anxious for the event, and delighted with its accomplishment; it is • the strongest, the most violent stroke of theatrical effect I know; I ⚫ do not hesitate to say it is the most interesting moment of the English ، ، ، stage; but it is not tragic; it does not possess that pathos, those means of exciting pity and terror, which are the proper objects of the tragic drama.. We do not expect from tragedy the pleasure arifing from • furprize, and affecting situation, which are momentary, but to have our paffions excited, and at the fame time softened by continual and lasting impreffions of terror and distress; and every fort of pleasure is not to • be expected from tragedy, but only that which is proper and peculiar • to itself.' Perhaps
POETIC OF ARISTOTLE. Perhaps the reader, who recollects what I have faid on this subject in [T] another place, may think I am defending Aristotle's consistency at the expence of my own. But he will observe I am delivering what I think would be his opinion, and not mine. I must acknowledge that I owe the first hint of this solution to the [u] Cambridge edition of the Poetic, Mr. Cooke having rendered Κράτισον, • Quod maximè valet.' And he has the following note on the passage. What, is that the best form of action which he mentions ، • last, and is the structure of the fable in Cresphontes to be preferred to Edipus? Can Aristotle dissent so much from himself? Or rather do ⚫ the interpreters of Aristotle dissent so much both from him and from ' truth? Let them recollect that third form, which he connects with • the preceding ones by these words ἔτι δὲ, as if doubting whether he • should mention them at all, as unfit for tragedy though adapted to the popular tafte. For such is the force of this word Κράτιςον. ὁ κράτει ὁ νικᾶ, For the vulgar indeed applaud that structure of HAS THE VOGUE. • fable for the causes already given. The action of Cresphontes, con- [T] See Note VII. Chap. XIII. [U] In the same volume Mr. Cooke has given a very elegant and classical Greek version of Gray's Elegy. I will however take the liberty of pointing out one fault. The first line, is rendered The Curfew tolls the knell of parting day,' Νυξ πέλει, ἐδ᾽ ἀν᾿ ἀγρὼς πυρὰ καίεζαι ἐδ᾽ ἀνὰ κώμας. Now though this extinction of fire is faid to have been the etymology of Curfew, it is by no means the consequence of it now, or is the idea at all intended to be conveyed either by Gray, or by Milton in the Il Penseroso, but merely the found of the evening bell. See Chap. xx. Rr cerning
cerning which Plutarch has handed down a pleasant fable, is deftitute * of all tragic force because it wants pathos.' I have ventured to give Κράτιςον a much stronger meaning. Indeed I do not recollect such a use of the word as Mr. Cooke suggests; but if I did I should prefer the other, as I think Aristotle must have allowed the discovery in Cresphontes to be forcible, as well as fashionable; neither would he, nor does he, treat the opinion of an Athenian audience as the sentiments of the vulgar. Nor can I fee why an illustration of a moral effect, in a grave treatise by Plutarch, drawn most probably from a very familiar, and certainly a very natural example, should be confidered as a pleasant fable only. CHAP.
15.1.
mvp-aristotle-comment-50
15.1
IN FORMING THE MANNERS FOUR THINGS ARE TO BE AT- TENDED TO. THE FIRST AND MOST ESSENTIAL IS, THAT THEY SHOULD BE GOOD.
BEFORE I enter on the particular passage which is the more immediate fubject of this note, I cannot avoid remarking the fuperiority of the dramatic writer, from which we may draw our examples, to any that the author of the Poetic could have recourse to. In regard to fable, as Shakespear was feldom an original inventor, so he was not scrupulously nice in his choice; and as to his arrangement of those subjects which he took for the ground-work of his dramas so as to produce the best tragic. effect, his most sanguine admirers must allow that he has feldom studied it much in the general conduct of the fable, though he has frequently done it in particular parts; and wherever he has done it, he is, as in every other respect, inimitable. But in painting manners, he stands alone and unrivaled: to use the words of the author of the essay on the dramatic character of Sir John Falstaff, • The reader must be sensible of fomething in the compofition • of Shakespear's characters, which renders them essentially different Rr2 from.
، ، ، ، from those drawn by other writers. The characters of every drama must indeed be grouped; but in the groups of other poets, the parts ' which are not seen do not in fact exist. But there is a certain round- • ness and integrity in the forms of Shakespear, which give them an independence as well as a relation, infomuch that we often meet with passages which, though perfectly felt, cannot be sufficiently explained in words, without unfolding the whole character of the speaker.' See NOTE ON THE ESSAY, page 58, of which I have only quoted a small part, the whole note is well worth the perusal of every admirer of Shakespear, as placing his superiority in the delineation of manners in the clearest light. Indeed, to recommend that original and convincing piece of criticism partially is doing it injustice, since every part of it is replete with elegance of taste and accurate and impartial judgement. In regard to the [A] Analysis of the character of Falstaff; though I first took the book up on the recommendation of a friend, it was with the strongest prejudice against what I thought an indefenfible paradox; yet every word led to conviction; and I laid it down with the firmest assurance, that the author was perfectly in the right. I have fince recommended the perusal of it to several of my friends, who have all opened it with the fame prejudice, and shut it with the fame conviction. That the perusal of the book will not be equally convincing to all I can eafily believe. For, to use the words of the author (page 108), 'How many - forts of men are there whom no evidence can perfuade! How many, • who ignorant of Shakespear, or forgetful of the text, may as well read • heathen Greek or the laws of the land as this unfortunate commentary! • How many who, proud and pedantic, hate all novelty and damn it [A] See Note 1. Chap. VII. • without
POETIC OF ARISTOTLE. without mercy under one compendious word [B] paradox! How many more who, not deriving their opinions from the sovereignty of reason, hold at the will of some superior lord, to whom accident or • inclination has attached them, and who, true to their vassalage, are re- • folute not to furrender, without express permission, their base and illgotten poffeffions.' We have another writer also, Henry Fielding, who in his comic epopees, is a most accurate delineator of manners. Howeyer there is one distinction between him and Shakespear, which, though perhaps it gives his pictures a more striking effect, renders them not equal in real merit to those of our great dramatic poet. Shakespear paints for all ages and all countries; while the portraits of Fielding are generally drawn from local and national circumstances [c]. [B] The author of the Dramatic Miscellany seems to have been a critic of this description. He says he cannot think the author serious in his hypothefis. One of the proofs (and he says it is unquestionable) is Falstaff giving an additional wound to Percy. I confess I think with, the author of the Essay, it is rather indecent than cowardly. [c] Dr. Johnson says, 'There is all the difference in the world between the characters of • Fielding and those of Richardson. Characters of manners are very entertaining; but they are to < be understood, by a more superficial observer, than characters of nature, where a man must dive ⚫ into the recesses of the human heart.' BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON, Vol. 1. p. 299. This I think would be a very just distinction between the manners of Fielding and Shakespear, but I cannot allow it between Fielding and Richardson. His characters can never be drawn naturally which are drawn contrary to his own intention. Richardson certainly meant Clariffa for a perfect character. And yet Dr. Johnson says of her in another place, that there always appears something in her conduct that she prefers to truth; and he adds, 'that Fielding's • Amelia is the most perfect heroine of a novel.' MRS. PIOZZI'S LETTERS. IN BOSWELL'S LIFE, Vol. 1. p. 342, Johnson says he read Amelia through without stopping. To
L To return to the particular object of the note. The meaning of the. word GOOD, as the first essential of tragic manners, has been a cause of much difference of opinion among the tranflators and commentators of the Poetic. If we consider χρησà here in its usual and obvious sense of morally good, the passage is neither reconcilable with Aristotle's definition of the proper tragic character in chap. XIII, nor with the practice of all the ferious epic and dramatic writers, ancient and modern. To still greater impropriety shall we be driven, if we take up the opinion, originally I believe started by Boffsu, and fince followed by Dacier, Harris, and Metastasio; that Aristotle by χρησὰ meant manners well marked. So strongly expressed, as to shew clearly what the character is, whether good or bad. For such a quality, so far from being diftinguished from the other three requifites, is essential to them all.. Since, whether a character is to be drawn good, or proper, or like, or uniform, it certainly ought to be well drawn, and strongly marked. In short, this is removing the epithet from the character of the manners represented, to that of the mode of representing them, and is nearly equivalent with a person who in laying down rules for composing a good poem, should begin with faying, that the first and most essential rule was, that the poem should. be good. But I think Ariftotle has sufficiently explained his meaning in several parts of this treatise, and especially in the beginning of the second. chapter [D], where he points out the difference as to manners of the objects of tragic and comic imitation; the first of which only he is now treating of particularly. The same idea is, I conceive, kept up with regard to tragic action; viz. that it should be important, in the fixth [D] See Note 1. Chap. II. chapter,
POETIC OF ARISTOTLE. chapter [E], and in the thirteenth as to character again, when we are told that illustrious men, like Edipus and Thyestes, or even [F] better characters in preference to worse are the proper objects of tragedy. Accordingly we find this rule universally adhered to in all serious fables whatever. Macbeth and Richard the Third, though they are objects of our detestation, never excite our contempt [G]; they have a dignity, a superiority of character which commands our respect, while their crimes are objects of our abhorrence. In this respect Milton is beyond all praise in his character of Satan [H]. Though I by no means put him in general on a footing with Shakespear as a painter of manners, yet in this single instance he certainly goes beyond him, fince he had a difficulty to encounter, which must have been pronounced infurmountable if he had not furmounted it. He was to represent a being not the creature of his own imagination, but marked by the most sacred authority as the abstract of wickedness and impiety, in such colors as to be a proper, and yet principal epic character; and this he has done in so masterly a manner, that the character of Satan alone is to me a fufficient illustration of the meaning of Ariftotle in this place, and the proper distinction between poetic [Ε] πράξεως σπεδαίας. [F] ἢ Βελλίονος μᾶλλον ἢ χείρονος. [G] In Chap. v. Aristotle in his account of comedy explains what he means by 'worse perfons,” (φαυλοτέρων) not such, he says, as are perfectly depraved, but only those who possess that species of turpitude that will excite ridicule. Is it not natural, when he is speaking of that tragic goodness which he has already opposed to this comic turpitude, for him to mean not abfolute goodness, but that species of it only which is proper to excite respect.
[H] See Beattie's Illustrations on Sublimity, page 613; and Efssay on Poetry and Music, page 78. and
and moral goodness; not because the character is well marked, for that might have been as well done had he been made contemptible, and the manners of Belial and Mammon are as capable of this excellence as those of Satan; but because he never loses our respect, nor ever appears to us • less than archangel ruined.. [1] Perhaps this subject cannot be better illustrated than by a comparison between the scene in the Fatal Curiosity of Lillo, when the wife is exciting her husband to the murder of the supposed stranger; and the scene between Macbeth and his wife. According to Mr. Harris, the manners in both are equally good poetically though not morally; 'Be- • cause it is natural such a wife should perfuade, and fuch a husband be perfuaded; and here we have all we require, because (here he blends, ، or rather confounds two of Aristotle's requisites) all we require is a suit- • able consistence.' To this we may add, that the intent in Macbeth is infinitely more atrocious. Wilmot, urged by extreme necessity, aggra-- vated by the remembrance of former affluence. For, • The needy man who has known better days, • One whom distress has spited at the world, * Is he, whom tempting fiends would pitch upon • To do such deeds, as make the profperous man • Lift up his hands and wonder who could do them.' DOUGLAS. Wilmot, I fay, resolves to reinstate his fortunes, by taking the life of a man he conceives a perfect stranger, with whom he is no otherwise connected, than by the common bands of nature and hospitality. But Macbeth, loaded with large poffeffions and newly acquired honors, is goaded [1] See Note III. Chap. XIII. by
POETIC OF ARISTOTLE. by an inordinate ambition to sacrifice his kinfman, his benefactor, and his king. One who under his roof was ، - In double trust, First as he was his kinsman and his subject, Both ftrong against the deed; then as his host, • Who should against the murderer shut the door, • Not bear the knife himself.' Surely in the distinction of these two scenes the poetical GOODNESS OF CHARACTER is sufficiently marked and makes the chief difference between them: but it obviously does not arise from moral goodness, or striking delineation of character; or if it does excel in the latter, it must be from fuperior merit as to one of the three last requifites, propriety, likeness, or uniformity. In the old and middle comedy, the manners, like those in modern farce when it keeps its true character, and in the burlesque epopee, fuch as Hudibras, are represented as devoid of this poetic goodness. [K] But in what we call genteel comedy, and the comic epopee, the manners of the principal characters at least, though drawn in general conformity to those of the age, partake of this goodness in fome degree. Though Tom Jones. is not drawn different from other men as Achilles is, though he is not drawn as a perfect character, and therefore as a monster, like Grandifon and Clariffa, every reader will fee he has no foibles that disgrace him, one only excepted, his venal amour with Lady Bellaston. And there Fielding has committed an error, and every reader feels it, against this rule which Aristole has given, or rather transcribed from the volume of [K] See Note 1. Chap. 11. Sf nature.
nature. I have mentioned this as relative only to the principal characters. The fubordinate ones may be purely burlesque even in comedy and the comic epopee. A character can never be respectable without possessing a sense of honor and of courage. The defect of these qualities is evident in Gil Blas, who, throughout the agreeable novel of Le Sage, for so it is in fpite of this defect, can never interest us; for who can be much concerned for the welfare of a despicable character, who is both a cheat and a coward; and such a character Gil Blas certainly is [L]. ners. The Orphan is a striking instance of a want of this goodness of man- Castalio and Polydore are certainly two unprincipled scoundrels, and Chamont is, as Caftalio calls him, ' a noify boisterous ruffian.' The Chaplain I do not mention as he is intended for a character in low comedy. But if the reader wishes to fee an instance of flagrant violation, not only of goodness but every requifite of manners, he may find it in a speech of Monimia, who when Polydore, in language too gross for quotation and which would degrade him at once from the character of gentleman, had it been addressed to a common prostitute, accuses her and her sex of every vice, the last and most confpicuous of which is unbridled lust, acquiesces in the justice of the charge, and coolly replies, • Indeed, my lord, • I own my sex's follies, I have 'em all; And to avoid its fault must fly from you. [L] See Beattie on Fable and Romance, p. 570 and 572, where, speaking of Fielding's Joseph Andrews, he wonders' what could induce the author to add to the other faults of his hero's father, Wilson, the infamy of lying and cowardice.' The
POETIC OF ARISTOTLE. The French poets so far from neglecting this rule of Aristotle, have pushed it to a most ridiculous excess, in which they have been but too much followed by many of our tragic writers. Instead of giving that natural dignity of character, which prevents even vice from becoming despicable, they have substituted an inflated and artificial character, the supposed consequence of high rank. The kings and heroes of Racine and Corneille, put us in mind of Alexander and Cæfar dressed in the hoops of the Italian opera. This false taste is well ridiculed by [M] Lessing, in a criticism on the Earl of Effex, by Banks. After quoting several passages in which Elizabeth speaks like a woman rather than a queen [N], he proceeds, Yes, indeed! these things are intolerable, the refined critics, and perhaps some of my readers will say, for unluckily there are Germans yet more frenchified than the French themselves. It is for their diversion • that I have selected these low passages, according to their notion. I • know their mode of criticising. These little negligences which are so terribly offensive to their delicate ears, and which are so difficult for the poet to find, and who has carefully scattered them here and there, to • render the dialogue more natural and give the discourse an appearance • of being the real inspiration of the moment; these they tack cleverly [M] DRAMATURGIE, Part I. page 96. [N] Telephus aut Peleus cum pauper et exul uterque • Projecit ampullas et sesquipedalia verba • Si curat cor spectantis tetigisse querela.' HOR. < Peleus and Telephus poor banish'd! each • Drop their big fix-foot words and founding speech; • Or else what bosom in their grief takes part.' COLMAN. Sf2 to-
، ، together, and then almost kill themselves with laughing at them; and shrugging their shoulders from mere pity, they gravely pronounce ' that the poor man knows nothing of the great world; that he has not conversed with many queens; that Racine knew much better, but * then Racine had lived at court. ، ، All this is very well, but it does not alter my opinion. If queens either do not, or dare not speak in this manner, so much the worse for ⚫ them. It is not to-day I have learned, that a court is not exactly the place where a poet should study nature. But if pomp and etiquette ⚫ transform men into machines, it is the duty of the poet to change ، • these machines again into men. Let real queens speak as affectedly and politely as they please, those of the poet should speak naturally. Let • him liften attentively to the Hecuba of Euripides, and confole himself ⚫ for having never conversed with other queens [o].' From the principle above-mentioned arose all the abfurd cenfures of the French critics on the fimplicity of Homer, and all the mifrepresentations of the French translators. It is to be lamented that Pope, who in his notes has often treated Mad. Dacier with great afperity, chose to follow her example as to this in his version. The manners of the Iliad are altered too much; but those of the Odyssey are entirely and radically changed [P]. [o] See alfo Beattie on Imagination, Chap. Iv. page 183; and Brumoy's Reflections on: Iphigenia. [P] See this more enlarged on in Note 1, on Chap. xxiv.. NOTE
15.2.
mvp-aristotle-comment-51
15.2
A WOMAN, OR EVEN A SLAVE MAY BE DRAWN WITH THIS EX- CELLENCE OF CHARACTER, THOUGH IT IS PROBABLE THAT A WOMAN SHOULD BE WORSE THAN A MAN, AND THAT A SLAVE SHOULD BE ABSOLUTELY BAD.
THIS decifion of Aristotle does not appear very favourable to the ladies [2]. Metastasio is angry with him for having thus without any neceffity, insulted half the human race. But if the principles on which Metastasio explains this passage, as mentioned in the preceding. note are right, there will be no insult at all. For if goodness of manners means manners strongly marked, it will be obvious to common observation that the remark is just, without recurring to Athens, where women were almost as much secluded from the general commerce of the world, in the time of Aristotle, as they are now, but even at the present time in western Europe, where they mix so much and take so active a part in society; I am speaking in general, there may be particular exceptions; but these it is not the province of poetry, at least of tragedy to imitate. A professed delineator of manners almost in our own time, has pronounced the same judgement on the sex. Pope says, and he quotes a lady as the author of the remark, Nothing so true as what you once let fall; • Moft women have no character at all.' [Q] Bossu (whom Mr. Harris calls Ariftotle's best interpreter) observes, ' As for the fex, • Aristotle says in his Poetic, that there are fewer good women than others, and that they do < more harm than good.' In what part of the Poetic did he find this passage? My
My hypothefis it is true, will not afford this excuse for the Stagirite's want of gallantry. But whoever reflects on the fituation of the Grecian women, must know they could not poffefs that goodness of character which I imagine Ariftotle to mean, in an equal degree with men. For they were very little better than in a state of domestic fervitude, and therefore could feldom have opportunities of exerting dignity of character. This is by no means the cafe with the modern female character. Their manners, indeed, are not so strongly marked as those of men, nor afford so much variety, but they are equally capable of this poetical goodness, as far as they are marked, with those of men. I do not mean such characters as Lady Macbeth and Medea, who do not properly pofsess female manners, but such as Juliet, as Constance, as Desdemona, and as Belvidera. As for a flave, our tragic drama knows no such character as existed under that name in the FREE republic of Athens. Zanga and Oroonoko are captive heroes. I would not be understood however, either as wishing to palliate or apologize, for the opinion of Arifstotle in this or any other place where I think him abfolutely in the wrong. Of the unfavourable idea he entertained of the fair sex there can be no doubt. This is proved beyond contradiction, from a passage in his natural history (R) of animals, which Mr. Twining has quoted, and I shall venture to tranflate, as a compleat specimen of the purest absurdity. • Woman is more apt to pity and • fall into tears than man. She is more given to envy, more ready to • find fault, fonder of scandal, and more apt to give blows. She is • also more addicted to anxiety and despondency, more impudent, more * false, more easily deceived and less apt to forget, also more wakeful, [R] Book IX. Chap. I. • and
POETIC OF ARISTOTLE. [s] and yet more slothful, and on the whole more obstinate than • men.' Perhaps I may be thought to take up the cause of the most amiable part of our species too warmly, when I declare this passage alone is a fufficient answer to all those, who think Ariftotle never in the wrong. The philosopher is not here speaking of the civil but the natural character of woman, confidered as an animal, as the female of the human race. He is enquiring into the nature of females in general throughout the whole of animated nature. These are his words. Females (he says, with an ، exception as to tigers and bears) are lefs ferocious but more malicious, • deceitful, and infidious than males, and more attentive in nourishing ' their young.- The traces of these manners are to be found, as I may say, in all animals, but they are most confpicuous in those whose manners are most marked, and especially in mankind whose nature is • most perfect, so that these habits will be most confpicuous in them.' And then follows the definition above quoted. Here therefore the ladies are marked as the representatives of the whole creation, with the flattering exception indeed of tigresses and she-bears; but certainly moft of the distinctions between the sexes mentioned by Aristotle are diftinctions of artificial habit, the consequences of custom and education, and not natural habit or instinct. In fome of them, as timidity and softness, the ancient and modern females agree; in others, as impudence and [s] Αγρυπνότερον καὶ οκνηρότερον. Of this apparent paradox, Mr. Twining gives the following humorous solution. ، More able to keep late hours, and at the same time more lazy than men,' might not this be rendered 'fonder of fitting up late, and lying in bed late;' perhaps this may be the cafe in general at present, as the ladies are fonder of dancing, and as yet at least, though I doubt if that will continue, not quite fo fond of sporting as the men. diffimulation,,
diffimulation, they differ, on account of their different mode of life. But wherever male jealoufy and tyranny, in modern times, reduces females to the fituation of flaves, the qualities of flaves will still be found in them. Surely there is not more difference between the characters of men and women, as stated by Aristotle, than there is between a foldier and an attorney (T). And I should hardly impute this to natural instinct. I have heard it observed, that on examining the ruins either of Pompeia or Herculaneum, the bodies of the men were found in the attitude of resistance, the women in that of refignation, which I conceive to be as much the consequence of habit as the discovery faid to have been made of a young man in women's cloaths, by attempting to draw a chair in a method which his dress would not permit [u]. To In a note on the former edition of my translation, I have faid a more perfect character might be found among women than men. trace the causes of this, may perhaps throw fome light on the subject of the preceding note. The qualities that raise men in the esteem of the world, that render them in the general opinion of mankind great and respectable on which poetical goodness of character depends, are often not connected, but [T] I do not mean to say, that there are not particular instances of good or bad dispositions refifting the force of habit; there are certainly rapacious and cunning soldiers, mafculine women, and honeft and even liberal-minded attorneys, for I cannot agree with Mr. Shenstone, or at least am more lucky in my acquaintance with them, as I know several in whom the gentleman, the christian, and the man is NOT (as he afferts) swallowed up in the lawyer. [U] Is not the imputation of these distinctions to natural causes something on the fame principle with the remark of the old groom, who had found, from long experience, that cropped horses were naturally good? frequently
POETIC OF ARISTOTLE. frequently even in oppofition to what may strictly be called moral virtue. That a degree of this poetical goodness is not incompatible even with atrocious crimes, has already been observed; and we may add, that in modern times it frequently depends on acknowledged vices, as a certain degree of gallantry and duelling. In regard to the first, how nearly has Fielding made Joseph Andrews an object of ridicule; and what pains is he obliged to employ to excuse him, by his violent attachment to another woman. The same may be observed as to duelling, in the character of Sir Charles Grandison, who, after all the trouble Richardfon has taken to draw him perfect, is neither the object of our love or our respect. Indeed the poet's pencil is not always true to his intention (x). I have no doubt that Rowe, in the Fair Penitent, meant to make Altamont the object of our esteem, and Lothario of our detestation. But he has fo contrived in the execution, that we despise Altamont, and the gallant gay Lothario is the favorite of the spectators, though he is an unprincipled, and in one instance a despicable villain, for no crime can be more truly defpicable than boasting of a woman's favors. The same may be faid of two other characters in different works, Lovelace and Sir Charles Grandifon. But a woman may be drawn perfectly good, and at the same time perfectly interesting, for there is no virtue in the catalogue of moral or christian duties that is not becoming, and does not both give and receive additional lustre, when possessed by that amiable sex. The utmost exertions of patience, and meekness, which at least fink the dignity of the tragic hero, raise the tragic heroine in our esteem. The characters of Imogen, of Desdemona, and of Cordelia, are as nearly patterns of [x] Maffinger has fucceeded in this in his Fatal Dowry, from which Rowe entirely borrowed his plot, though without any acknowledgement. See a comparison between these plays in the Observer, No. 89, 90, 91.
perfection as human nature will admit, erring only as to that passion which we have already mentioned as furnishing [Y] that μεγάλη ἁμαρτία, that great frailty which causes the distress of virtuous characters without awakening our disgust, or sinking them in our esteem. manners. Before I quit this part of the subject I must make one observation, though it partly anticipates the subject of the next note. It relates to the tendency my fair countrywomen have to violate in real life an example of Ariftotle given to enforce the neceffity of poetical propriety of He tells us ⚫ there is a character of courage and fierceness adapted to men, which would be very improper in a woman.' My own feelings on this head are so much in unison with those of the Stagirite, that I am as much disgusted at seeing a delicate and accomplished woman drawing a bow, or managing a spirited hunter, as I should be at a man's working a pair of ruffles, or embroidering a waistcoat. These exercises are not only unfit for female delicacy but even destructive of female beauty, as they tend to make the arm mufcular, and consequently to rob it of its first grace, rotundity, and softness of outline. There is even something repugnant to our sensations in seeing a woman skilful in things that do not become her sex. In such cases there is a beauty even in awkwardness. There is a masterly stroke in Rousseau's Emilius [z] exemplifying this. Sophia could not fit still. She rose with vivacity. She ran over the whole shop, examined the tools, felt the smoothness ' of the planks, picked up the shavings, looked at our hands, and faid • she liked this kind of work because it was so clean. She playfully ، attempted even to imitate Emilius. With her white and delicate hand • she run a plane over a board, the plane slid on without having any [Y] See Note Iv. Chap. XIII. [z] Vol. II. Part II. • effect.
POETIC OF ARISTOTLE. • effect. I thought I beheld the god of love in the air laughing and • beating his wings. I thought I heard him shout with delight, and fay, " Hercules is revenged." ، Homer who lived in more natural times than Aristotle, or the Greek tragic writers, was much more favorable to the characters of women. In what amiable colors has he drawn Helen, the cause of so much war and bloodshed. How different is the behaviour of Hector to her, and that of the pious Æneas of Virgil! Her lamentation over the body of Hector, in the last book of the Iliad, is beyond expreffion beautiful [A]. The cafe with regard to flavery was different, and Homer expresses himself on that head with nearly as much strength as Ariftotle. [B]' Jove fix'd it certain that whatever day • Makes man a flave, takes half his worth away.' POPE'S ODYSSEY, 1. xvii. v. 393- [A] Madam Dacier's criticism on this speech is the very Βαθος of the absurd. • Homer • does not say this only to shew the goodness and humanity of Hector, but also to support the • probability of the poem. For if Hector, who was master in Troy, both on account of ⚫ his own valor and the old age of Priam, had not been in the interests of Helen, there • would have been no likelihood of her not being delivered up to the Greeks in the course of so fatal a war.' Madam Dacier in this remark omits the testimony Helen bears to the paternal tenderness shewn her by Priam. Ἑκυρὸς δὲ, πατὴρ ὡς, ἤπιος ἀιεὶ. There is the fame omission in Pope's tranflation. [Β] Ἥμισυ γὰρ τ᾿ ἀρετῆς ἀποαίνυται ἐυρύοπα Ζεὺς ᾿Ανέρος εὖτ᾿ ἂν μιν κατὰ δέλιον ἦμαρ ἕλησεν. Tt2 ODYSSEY, 1. XVII. v. 322. NOTE
15.3.
mvp-aristotle-comment-52
15.3
THE NEXT REQUISITE IS THEIR BEING CHARACTERISTIC.
BY characteristic is meant confonant with the profession, rank, fex, and age of the perfon. This is clearly defined as to the last condition by Horace in his Epistle to the Pifos [c]. The celebrated speech of Jaques in As You Like It, describing the seven ages of man's life, seems an imitation of this passage in Horace. But with all the veneration I have for Shakespear, I cannot agree with Mr. Colman in thinking his alteration in making two of his examples characteristic of station, instead of age, an improvement; fince comparatively confidered, so few men are ever either soldiers or justices. I say two examples, though Mr. Colman makes them three, enumerating the lover in them. But here I think Shakespear has adhered more to general nature than Horace. Love is certainly more naturally characteristic of youth than hunting. An objection has been made to Iago as a deviation from this rule, as the character of an artful revengeful villain is very opposite to that of a soldier: and had Iago been the only foldier in the play the objection would have been just, as in that case he must have been confidered as representing the general manners of the profession. But as in Othello all the principal persons of the drama are soldiers, the manners are characteristic of the individual not of the profeffion. From national prejution. [c] See v. 156 to v. 178 in the original, and v. 230 to v. 265 in Mr. Colman's tranfladice
POETIC OF ARISTOTLE. dice we are apt to be rather unfavorable in our representation of French characters; and had Parolles been the only Frenchman in ' All's Well ' that Ends Well, we should not scruple to confider him as an example of fuch prejudice; but as the scene lies in France chiefly, no such idea is ever entertained [D]. As to the propriety of character, the ghosts, witches, and fairies of Shakespear, are deservedly allowed superior excellence, as they certainly act in conformity with the manners, we impute to such imaginary beings did they really exist. Yet Shakespear had here some archetype to follow; for popular opinion had already marked the outline of their habits, which was as advantageous to him in giving them characteristic manners as it was difadvantageous to (E) Milton in giving Satan poetical excellence of manners. But how Shakespear (F) has contrived in such characters as Caliban, the pure creation of his own imagination, to give to what never did, and never was supposed to exist, such manners as we are irresistibly impelled by our feelings to pronounce truly characteristic, is a power of art that criticism is as inadequate to investigate, as genius to imitate. [D] See Bishop Warburton's Defence of Shakespear in this instance against the hypercriticism of Rhymer. [E] See Note I. on this chapter. [F] See Effay on the Dramatic Character of Falstaff, page 75, note. NOTE
15.4.
mvp-aristotle-comment-53
15.4
- THE THIRD ESSENTIAL IS LIKENESS. THERE IS A DISTINCTION BETWEEN THIS AND WHAT WE HAVE ALREADY MENTIONED ABOUT THEIR BEING GOOD AND CHARACTERISTIC.
THESE words obviously imply that though there is a diftinction between them they are liable to be confounded, which is exactly the case with being like and characteristic. But there feems to be almost a direct opposition between likeness and goodness. • For,' as is very juftly remarked by Mr. Twining, 'there was more danger of a reader's thinking the ὅμοιον too different from the χρησὸν, and as a general precept incompatible with it.' I can find no other way of solving this difficulty than by the common effort of unsuccessful and bold commentators alteration of the text, and leaving out the word χρηςόν as supposing it added by a transcriber in conformity to ὥσπερ ἕιρηται, as both goodness and propriety have just been mentioned. ، The difference between propriety and likeness consists merely in this, that the one relates to what is becoming and natural in a person of such an age, sex, or profeffion; the other, to what is appropriated to any particular character, from history or tradition. Mr. Twining illustrates this by the example of Medea, ' where the violence and fierceness which form her ⚫ traditional character, and therefore the likeness of the poet's picture may be said to be proper, or suitable with respect to the individual, • though improper and unfuitable to the general character of the fex.' Mr.
POETIC OF ARISTOTLE. Mr. Mason, as he has drawn his Elfrida, whose historical character is one of the worst in the annals of human kind, has preferred general propriety of character to individual resemblance. This subject is discussed at large by M. Leffing, in a criticism on a comedy called SOLYMAN THE SECOND [G], taken from one of Marmontel's tales, from which I shall make a confiderable extract, as it in many places applies strongly to the Elfrida of Mr. Mason, and without design, and confequently without partiality, urges what may be faid on both fides as to such a delineation of an historical character. M. Leffing first quotes the following extract from the JOURNAL ENCYCLOPEDIQUE for January, 1762, page 79. “ “ Solyman," say they,' was one of the greatest princes of his age. His victories, his talents, his virtues, rendered him an object " of veneration even to the enemies he triumphed over. But this hero " so sensible to glory was not insensible to love; though delicate in his " “ pleasures, he felt amid the corruption of a seraglio, that pleasure unaccompanied by sentiment is contemptible. He imagined he had " found this in Roxelana, a young Italian captive, not perhaps inca- “ pable of tenderness but nevertheless artful and ambitious, and skilled " in the means of making her pleasures the fource of her elevation. “ By feigning sensibility herself, she induced Solyman who really felt it, to violate a law of the empire which forbad the sultan to marry. [G] Dramaturgie, Part II. page 70, & feq. We have a very pleasing after-piece on the same subject, in which the character of Roxelana has received additional interest from the powers of Mrs. Abingdon and Mrs. Jordan. " She
" She afcended the throne with him, an ambition in itself pardonable, " if she had not employed her afcendancy over her lover to force him to " fully his glory by the sacrifice of an innocent fon. This woman M. "Marmontel has chofen for the heroine of one of his tales. But how he " has changed her! Instead of Italian he has made her French. Instead " of an artful woman affecting sensibility he has made her the coquet " of a Parifian circle; and instead of a foul overwhelmed by ambition, “ “ “ " " and capable of the boldest and most atrocious actions to fatisfy it, he has given her an undesigning head and an excellent heart. Are fuch changes allowable? Can a poet or a novellist extend the license, whatever it may be, that is given him, to known characters ? Though permitted to change facts, has he a right to paint Lucretia as a coquet, and Socrates as a fine gentleman ?" To this M. Leffing replies : ' I do not chuse to charge myself with • the justification of M. Marmontel on this point. I have already ob- • served [H], that characters should be more facred to the poet than • facts. First, because when the characters are well observed, the facts [H] Dramaturgie, Part I. page 57, where he defends the anachronisms as to the age of Elizabeth in Corneille's Comte de Essex, against the Criticisms of Voltaire. Corneille reprefents her as young when Effex is executed, which really happened near the close of her reign. Lessing says, ' If her character gives the poetic idea of that which history attributes ' to that queen the poet has fulfilled his duty, and we have no business to bring the work to ⚫ the strict tribunal of chronology or history.' In confirmation of this doctrine we have had three tragedies on this subject on our theatre, to which the history of Elizabeth must be much better known than it can be to a French audience, which have all the fame defect without its producing any ill consequence as to their reception on the stage. See Note IV. Chap. xvu. as
POETIC OF ARISTOTLE. • as being the consequence of fuch characters can never vary much [1], • as on the contrary the fame facts may be derived from characters en- ⚫ tirely different. Secondly, because the instruction does not lie in the • facts themselves, but in the knowledge that such characters in such • circumstances do and can only produce such facts (K). Nevertheless • Marmontel has done just the reverse. The fact is, that there was formerly in the seraglio an European female flave, who had art enough to get herfelf declared legally married to the emperor. The character • of this flave, and that of the emperor, determine the manner in which ⚫ this fact really happened; and because there might have been many • different characters by whose means it might really have happened, it certainly depends only on the poet, as poet, which, either of the • characters established by history, or of others, he chuses to employ, ⚫ according as the moral he has in view, requires one or the other. All ⚫ that is expected of him, in cafe he chuses other characters than those • which are furnished by history, or even such as absolutely contradict ، ، it, is to abstain also from historical names, and rather ascribe known • [L] facts to unknown persons than give to known persons manners • which do not belong to them. The first encreases our knowledge, or at least feems to encrease it, and pleases even on that account; the [1] This I think will hardly be granted, and indeed seems confuted by the other member. of the sentence. As the leading facts of the story of Elfrida not only might have been, but actually were nearly the fame as represented by Mr. Mason, so had Elfrida been drawn as she really was, undoubtedly the consequential facts might have been entirely different.. [K] The reader will observe that part of the reasoning here arises from M. Lessing's mistake as to the meaning of the Contes Moraux, or moral tales, mentioned in Note I.. [L] See Note Iv. Chap. XVIII.. Uu. fecond
33° ، ، second contradicts the knowledge we already have, and displeases for that reafon. We confider facts as accidental, and what may happen in common to many different persons, but characters on the contrary as something essential and particular. We permit the poet therefore to arrange the first according to his fancy, provided he does not make them contradictory to his characters. But as to the second he may put them indeed in the best light, but he must not alter them. The • least variation feems to destroy the individuality, and give us fictitious ، ، and deceitful perfons, who ufurp the names of other people, and try to pass on us for characters they in reality are not. ، Notwithstanding this, it appears to me a much more pardonable fault not to preserve in the perfons those characters which history has given them, than to err either as to probability or the moral intended to be conveyed in such characters as are chosen at will; for the first • defect may very well be united with genius, but not the second. It • is allowed to be ignorant of a thousand things that every school-boy • knows. It is not the acquifitions of memory, but the power of ، drawing from our own proper funds that conftitutes riches. As to what a poet has heard, or feen, or read, he either forgets it, or does not chuse to know it, just as fuits his purpose. He errs then fometimes through too much security, sometimes through contempt, sometimes through premeditated design, and sometimes not; and he does it so grossly, • and so often, that we poor fouls can never wonder enough at it. Lifting up our hands we cry, How could fo great a man have been ignorant of this? How could it have escaped his recollection ? Did not he take it into confideration? O let us be filent on the subject. • While we are trying to debafe him, we only make ourselves ridiculous ' in his eyes; all that we know more than him amounts folely to what we
POETIC OF ARISTOTLE. • we learned at school, without which we should have been completely stupid and ignorant indeed.'
15.5.
mvp-aristotle-comment-54
15.5
THE FOURTH IS CONSISTENCY.
BY consistency is meant keeping the character uniform with itself in every respect. Without this it is impoffible for the manners to excel in the other qualities; for a character can never be faid to have poetical go odness, or general propriety of manners, or individual likeness, if these qualities are not uniformly kept up. Horace seems to conceive this admonition chiefly necessary to those poets who draw original characters from their own imagination. [M] • Should you adventuring novelty, engage • Some bold original to walk the stage, • Preserve it well, continued as begun • True to itself in every scene, and one.' COLMAN'S HOR. EP. Tο PIS. 186. Indeed though this rule is equally essential to all characters, original ones will be most liable to offend against it. As there the poet will have nothing to guide him but his own genius, and besides he will be [M] Si quid inexpertum scenæ committis, & audes Perfonam formare novam; fervetur ad imum Qualis ab incepto processerit et fibi conftet.. Uu2 EP. AD PIS. 125. more.
more tempted to take liberties with what he esteems particularly his property, as being the creature of his own invention. He also will efteem himself to be, and indeed actually will be, less liable to detection. The example that Ariftotle gives of failure in this point is the character of Iphigenia in the Iphigenia in Aulis of Euripides, of which more will be faid in the next note. Modern instances of the breach of this rule will be amply furnished by our best poets, serious and comic, epic and dramatic. [N] The character of Hamlet cannot certainly be allowed to be uniform throughout. Befides the neglect or forgetfulness of the poet in making Hamlet, who is only supposed to affect madness, appear often really mad, (an error carefully and effectually guarded against in [o] Edgar,) there are many improprieties which I shall not enlarge upon as they are fufficiently obvious. [N] I have been informed that by order of Mrs. Garrick the tragedy of Hamlet was thrown into Garrick's grave. I think though he was undoubtedly great in that character he was equally fo in many of Shakespear's characters, and superior in Lear. The comic characters I presume were thought too light for so solemn an occafion. If by burying that tragedy with Garrick it was meant to infer that it was loft to the stage with him, a complete edition of Shakespear might, with the utmost propriety, have been interred with that inimitable actor: for what Cardinal Bembó has said of Nature on the tomb of Raffael, may be faid of Shakefpear on the tomb of Garrick. one. [o] When one of the persons assumes a character different from his own it is the business of the actor to mark the distinction, and make the real character appear through the feigned Johnfon has observed, that Garrick did not play Archer in the Beaux Stratagem ' well. The gentleman should break out through the footman, which was not the cafe as ' he did it.' BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON, Vol. 11. p. 62. Romeo
POETIC OF ARISTOTLE. Romeo also surely acts contrary to the general tendency of his character when after the fall of [P] Paris, on being requested by his dying rival to lay his body by Juliet, he answers coolly, and rather lightly, • In faith I will.' And on recognizing his face he considers him as an object of pity, and feems really concerned for him though his rival, and the occafion of Juliet's death. Valentine's offer of resigning Sylvia to Protheus is a striking instance of the same impropriety in our great dramatic poet; if that play [Q], which I greatly doubt, is really a production of Shakespear. Farquhar has added to this impropriety when he makes Aimwell say to Archer in the Beaux Stratagem, • Take the ten thousand or the Lady;' and in Archer's brutal answer to Dorinda, when the expresses her surprize at the offer. [P] The author of the REMARKS makes a curious observation on these lines spoken by the prince. • And I for winking at your difcords too ' Have loft a brace of kinsmen.' His kinsmen he says are Mercutio and envolio, and therefore proposes to refstore a line which mentions the death of the latter. This ought to be a good lesson to commentators, as it shews how they are able sometimes to fee what is invisible, and to shut their eyes againft what stares them in the face. Mercutio and Paris are obviously the prince's relations. Romeo on first seeing the face of Paris, calls him Mercutio's kinsman. And in the dramatis perfonæ, which is arranged rather according to political than poetical rank, the first character mentioned is Escalus, prince of Verona: the second Paris, kinsman to the prince. [Q] If the hand of Shakespear is to be traced in any part of the Two Gentlemen of Verona, I think it is in the characters of Launce and Speed, which much resemble Lancelot in the Merchant of Venice. In
In the fong supposed to be written by Lovemore for the widow Belmour in the WAY TO KEEP HIM, and which is supposed to give his own sentiments, there is a strong instance not only of inconfiftency but abfolutely of oppofition in this line. Turn the chief of your care from your face to your mind.' Now the only cause of Lovemore's indifference to his wife is her having done this very thing; and the whole tenor of the drama is to enforce the contrary conduct, and shew a woman that the ought, after marriage, to facrifice to the graces as well as to the virtues. There is a fimilar neglect in that excellent comedy the School for Scandal, when Charles Surface says to Sir Oliver on his being difcovered, Believe me when I tell you, (and upon my foul I would not say it if it was not so,) if I do not feel mortified at the exposure of my • follies; it is because I feel at this moment the warmest satisfaction at seeing you my liberal benefactor.' This is quite inconsistent with the character of Charles, and would have exactly suited Joseph in the fame situation, as it conveys a premeditated sentiment, and is besides obvioufly an untruth. I will now produce three instances from works of narrative imitation, and those justly in the highest class of estimation. To begin with Don Quixote. In the part first published by Cervantes, and his subsequent addition in consequence of a fpurious attempt by another hand, he has two distinct characters. • In the first part it is true he is not drawn as an abfolute maniac, when he is not discoursing of knight errantry, ▲ but all his conversation is tinged with fingularity; and the pertinent • things
POETIC OF ARISTOTLE. ، things he says are incoherently arranged, and themselves out of place; as for instance, his long speech to the goatherds about the golden age : • but in the second part he is made a man of found judgment and elegant literature when the immediate subject of his madness is not • touched upon [R].' My next instance is from a work which is of undoubted excellence indeed, leaving every work of the same nature far behind. I mean the character of Allworthy in Tom Jones. He has always appeared to me a striking instance of a character at oppofition with himself, though more perhaps in general with that which the author tells you in his own person he is, than with his own conduct in those parts where the author suffers him to act from himself. The author is at great pains to inform us frequently that he is, though no scholar, a man of sense and difcernment, with a benevolence almost angelic; and to press this more forcibly on our minds, he has given him a name strongly expressive of his moral goodness, though all his other characters have common names [s]. But how is he really drawn? He is the dupe of every infinuating rafcal he meets; and a dupe not of the most amiable kind, fince he is always led to acts of justice and severity. The consequence of his pliability is oftener the punishment of the innocent than the acquittal of the guilty; and in such punishment he is severe and implacable. As in the cafe of Jones himself, his fupposed father and mother, and black George. He fuffers his adopted fon and his foundling to be ill treated by an imperious pedagogue, whose [R] See Andrews's Anecdotes, p. 31. Article Books. [s] See Note III. Ch. Ix. whole
، whole character and conversation is a fatire on christianity, and to have their principles corrupted by a hypocritical infidel. The third instance is not so striking, but is I think to be found in a character, whose fingularity as well as general uniformity with itself is universally and defervedly admired, and was a particular favorite with its author on this very account. I mean [T] Sir Roger de Coverly in the Spectator. But is his conduct throughout the work consonant with the original delineation of his character? Or can his fingularities, however amiable and however entertaining, be at all faid to [u]' proceed from • his good sense, and be contradictions to the manners of the world, only as he thinks the world is in the wrong?' There are many comedies whose catastrophe depends entirely on this want of uniformity of manners. I mean those in which the event of the fable turns on an entire and radical change of character in one of the principal persons. Where, as Mr. Harris observes, with as much humour as justice, • The old gentleman of the drama, after having • fretted and stormed through the first four acts, towards the conclufion • of the fifth is unaccountably appeased. At the fame time the diffipated 6. coquette, and the diffolute fine gentleman whose vices cannot be occa- • fional but must clearly be habitual, are in the space of half a scene [T] The character of Sir Roger did not, it feems, fuit the delicacy of Shenstone. In his Essays on Men, Manners, and Things, where he chuses to draw what he calls a character, and a most infipid one it is, and make him talk common-place nonfsense among the tombs at Westminster, he concludes by saying he ' sometimes boafted that he was a distant relation of • Sir Roger de Coverly. If he was, ' I am afraid his lady mother played false, for there is not the most distant family likeness.. [u] Spectator, No. II.. miracu-
POETIC OF ARISTOTLE. ' miraculously reformed, and grow at once as completely good as if they ' had never been otherwife.' Some instances may however be produced in which a sudden and yet lasting reformation may not be improbable, as in Lady Townly. We may conceive a young woman of good natural disposition, but led into habits of diffipation by company and fashion, to be really convinced of her error by one striking incident: but we can never believe that any thing can cure the brutal fufpicion of Strictland [x]. [x] No two passions can be more different than jealousy and suspicion. The one is the offspring of brutality, and may be unconnected with love; the other is the certain proof of a most violent and unreasonable passion. Hoadley in the Suspicious Husband has once, and I believe once only, confounded these characters when he makes Strictland say he cannot bear that even a woman should partake in his wife's love. This is jealousy though pushed to excess. Mrs. Brooks in Emily Montague makes Colonel Rivers express the violence of his passion in these words: ' I would engross, I would employ, I would absorb every faculty • of that lovely mind.' Othello reasons, if I may use the expreffion, in the same manner, when he says, • I'd rather be a toad, • And feed upon the vapor of a dungeon, • Than keep a corner in the thing I love • For other's uses.' X x NOTE
15.6.
mvp-aristotle-comment-55
15.6
EVEN IF AN INCONSISTENT PERSON IS THE OBJECT OF IMITA- IMITATED SHOULD BE MADE TION, THE CHARACTER SO CONSISTENTLY INCONSISTENT.
MR. TWINING begins one of his notes (101) with the observation that Aristotle affords so many passages to exercise the penetration and conjectures of the critics, that they might be perfectly fatisfied without inventing them when they do not find them. An observation that feems peculiarly applicable to this passage, which I own appears to me perfectly plain, and in the common and literal acceptation very naturally and even necessarily connected with what immediately precedes it. After Aristotle had mentioned consistency as one of the essential requifites of manners, it occurred to him that there might be, and perhaps he recollected there actually were, characters whose leading feature was inconfistency; and that he might be supposed to mean that the manners of such persons were improper for poetical imitation. He therefore explains himself by saying such characters were not improper, provided the inconfiftency was kept up throughout the whole conduct of the character, and the person was not made to act consistently with himself in some instances, and inconsistently in others. A very learned and elegant critic however has chosen to give a new meaning to this observation. One of his objections is, that such an inconsistent character is not proper for tragedy. He was induced to this idea by the character given to Tigellius by Horace, which so naturally suggests itself to the recollection of the reader. But it is by no means improbable, that
POETIC OF ARISTOTLE. that such characters may be found in the higher and more serious ranks of life, the consequences of whose inconsistency may be as productive of tragic distress as that of Tigellius is of comic ridicule [x]. Bishop Hurd is at great pains to prove, that by ὁμαλῶς ἀνόμαλον he means that a person in some things inconsistent, may yet be so managed by the poet'as to be made consistent with the basis of his character. And as an example of this, he brings Electra, and strange to tell, Iphigenia, the very character marked out by Aristotle to exemplify blameable inconsistency of manners. The Bishop says, that Iphigenia is more easily vindicated from this charge of inconfiftency, than even Electra, notwithstanding this charge of Aristotle against her. It may be so; but if it is so, if Aristotle knew what he meant, or had any meaning at all, he could not intend to praise in Electra what he censures in Iphigenia. If the character of Iphigenia is an inconsistency confiftent with the basis of the character, it is proof pofitive that such is not the meaning of Ariftotle's ὁμαλῶς ἀνόμαλον, which must be some quality that the manners of Iphigenia did not possess. To bring the very character quoted by Ariftotle as an instance of the breach of a dramatic rule, for an example of the exception to such rule on his own supposed principles, and that by changing the received and obvious meaning of the words defining such exception, can hardly be justified by the canons of fober criticifm. The idea of Mr. Markland, mentioned by Mr. Twining, that the inconfistency of Iphigenia 'was intended by the poet as a moral lesson, [x] See Mr. Twining, Note III, whose observations on this passage, and on the Bishop of Worcester's criticism, are as usual, accurate and convincing. Xx. 2 ' a strik-
34° a striking picture of the " levity and inconfistency of the human mind," reminds us of an observation of Brumoy, on part of the conduct of Jocasta in the Edipus of Sophocles. • We perceive (he says) that the trouble of Edipus has fo much encreased, and that his fcruples con- • cerning the death of Laius have taken such deep root in his heart, that ، ، ، Jocasta, to deliver him from them, becomes all at once pious inftead of impious, as the appeared at first. She goes to confult the gods : admirable character! she is a free-thinker in the first act and now a religious enthusiast, and this because both the effects are produced by the different circumstances she is in. Such is the human heart. In going to the temple she meets the Corinthian shepherd, who reassures her concerning the fate of Edipus, and she thinks no more of the gods.' By the way, after all to take the Bishop's own words, is not the fubstance of them a distinction without a difference? for what is such a character as Tigellius but an inconsistent person drawn consistent with the basis of his character, since that basis is inconsistency ?
15.7.
mvp-aristotle-comment-56
15.10
SO ACHILLES IS DRAWN AS A GOOD CHARACTER EVEN BY HOMER.
THE paragraph preceding that of which this sentence is the conclusion, whether from being displaced by transcribers or from the defultory mode of composition so frequently apparent in this work, seems to have little to do with the rest of this chapter. Here however Ariftotle returns to his subject. He has before been giving examples of the breach
POETIC OF ARISTOTLE. breach of three of the essential qualities of manners, goodness as in the character of Menelaus, propriety as in Ulysses and Menalippe, and consistency as in Iphigenia. We may now suppose him to recollect his omiffion of the other, of which probably the Achilles in the same tragedy may have been generally quoted as an example, where, in order to give him the requifite poetical goodness of character, the poet has deviated from his traditional manners, and even the manners, according to Plato [v], given him by Homer. In answer to this the critic points out the mode by which the faults of a traditional character may be so represented as not to lose their resemblance, and yet retain the neceffary poetical goodness; and this he not only gives such directions how to perform as must appear to every person perfectly confonant with reason, but he illustrates it by the example of the usual practice of another imitative art. And having done this, he observes that even Homer, who has been supposed to have followed a different plan, has really given the requisite poetical goodness of character to Achilles. The contrary opinion however seems to have been generally adopted, even by the moderns; and many are ready to join in opinion with Dr. Jortin, as quoted by Mr. Twining; ' that Achilles is a boisterous, rapa- ، cious, mercenary, cruel and unrelenting brute; and the reader pities none of his calamities, and is pleased with none of his successes.' This is rather a summary mode of deciding a question by a sentence, which if just, is a compleat condemnation of the father of poetry, and all his admirers. For if Homer has so drawn Achilles as to make him not only [Y] See the passage quoted from Plato's Republic, by Mr. Twining, where the Achilles of Homer is accused of possessing together the two opposite vices of mean rapaciousness, and infolent contempt both of gods and men. compleatly
compleatly bad, but compleatly despicable and uninteresting, the Iliad is effentially defective; and those who have admired it, or rather have pretended to admire it, have acted in opposition to their own feelings. Perhaps many modern readers, and Dr. Jortin among the rest, have never been much interested either in the character of Achilles or in any part of the Iliad or Odyssey; as these divine poems are seldom introduced to us in a very pleasing manner, and as early associations of ideas are not very easily eradicated [z], perhaps some feelings of restraint and punishment may always be connected with a work with which we were first acquainted, under the influence of such circumstances. To recur to my own feelings on this subject, it happened to me, that my first knowledge of the Tale of Troy divine was unaccompanied by any restraint, and yet drawn from the Iliad. (A) Pope's Homer being one of the first books I ever read for my own, amusement, I declare I was as much interested in the character of Achilles as I ever was for the most perfect hero of novel or romance. I certainly was then no critic, and had never heard of Ari- [z] I think this is a strong objection to the use of the fcriptures, in the teaching either English, Latin, or Greek. [A] I do not pretend to say Pope gives an accurate copy of the original, but a much more perfect idea of the general story of the Iliad would be acquired even by Ogilvie's tranflation, read so as to comprehend the whole, than by reading and studying the original in parts. I could gain a more accurate idea of the general and relative situation of a country by looking at a map for ten minutes, than I could by riding over it, without such assistance, in as many years. Mr. Spence declares in his Polymetis, he never perfectly understood the Epistles and Satires of Horace, as to their general connection, till he read Pope's Imitations of them. Pope has not given Achilles virtues denied him by Homer; but a striking instance of the contrary conduct is pointed out by Dr. Beattie in his Essay on Poetry and Music, Part 1, Chap. Iv. page 81.. note. In the same place will be found a complete and unanswerable defence of the Achilles of Homer against such critics as Dr. Jortin. stotle,
POETIC OF ARISTOTLE. stotle, and what I read of hím occasionally in the notes I did not understand; but I as certainly could not be deceived as to my own feelings. How often have we heard the absurd story of Achilles being invulnerable every where except in the heel, (which is mentioned by no ancient writer except Statius) imputed to Homer. [B] Tom Brown, of facetious memory, but a very good classical scholar, taking this for granted, makes this curious, and indeed if he were right in his first assertion, just remark. • Homer not only makes Achilles invulnerable every where but in • his heel, but likewise bestows a suit of impenetrable armour upon his in- • vulnerable body. (c) Bully Dawson would have fought the devil with ⚫ these advantages. So far however has Homer been from giving Achilles any unfair advantage over his principal antagonist, that he takes great pains to make Hector his match. Whatever excellence there was in armour made by a divine artist and given by the gods, such armour was possessed by Hector; as he had taken from Patroclus, the arms worn by Achilles through the first nine years of the war; and as for his being invulnerable, befides the proof I have brought [D] elsewhere, and particularly the wound given him by Afteropæus in his hand, in the twentyfirst Iliad; in the eighteenth Iliad, when the body of his friend Patroclus [B] He was the first English critic who noticed the impropriety of calling such irregular compositions as the Odes of Cowley, Pindaric Odes. [c] For an account of this hero, the reader is referred to a note on the second number of the Spectator. Edition of 1789. [D] In a note on verse 112 (82 in the tranflation) of the ninth Olympic Ode of Pindar. is
is on the point of being seized by the Trojans, and he is defired to interfere by a message from Juno, he excuses himself and with some degree of petulance as if to an unreasonable request [E]. 'How can I go into ' the battle? They have got my armour, and I know of no other • whose armour I can put on unless the shield of Ajax Telamon, and ' that is I hope already engaged among the front ranks of the battle.' If Achilles was invulnerable then he did not know it himself. Neither did Eustathius who, though he has a long note on this passage, does not drop the remotest hint of it [F]. [E] See Iliad XVIII. v. 187. I have not taken Mr. Pope's version, because when an author is quoted to establish any point of this fort, his literal sense is necessary; besides the word arms used by Pope is equivocal, but the Greek words ἔνεα and τέυχεα fignify only defensive armour. Pope however, though the words he puts in the mouth of Achilles are not so expressive of indignation as the original, shews he felt the idea, by adding - He cries, (with fury warm'd.') [F] In the note on Pindar above-mentioned, I have taken notice of an observation of a scholiaft on that poet, and another on verse 820 of Iliad XXIII, which shew that Ajax being invulnerable, was a popular story among the ancients. In Villoifon's edition of Homer, with the ancient Scholia, where particular passages are diftinguished by such a mark as this which is called διπλή καθαρά, there is one on that very verse, and its occasion noted in these words, ἡ διπλῆ ὁτι ἐκ τέτων καὶ τῶν τοιέτων φάινεται κάθ Ὁμηρον μὴ ὤν ἄτρωῖος ὁ Αίας : « The mark is put because from this verse and others like it, it appears that Ajax was * not invulnerable according to Homer;' a proof certainly that there was an opinion at least that Homer had made Ajax invulnerable. NOTE
15.8.
mvp-aristotle-comment-57
15.11
THESE RULES OUGHT TO BE OBSERVED; AND NOT ONLY THESE, BUT SUCH ALSO AS REGARD THOSE OBJECTS OF THE OTHER SENSES THAT NECESSARILY ACCOMPANY DRAMATIC POETRY.
BY this I imagine Aristotle means the theatrical apparatus, such as the dress, and masks of the actors, on the proper adapting of which to various characters, much of the effect of dramatic representation must have depended. In the article of dress both the ancient and modern theatre were much in the fame circumstance; but as to the masks, the ancients, at least in comedy, as we may gather from Julius Pollux, were mechanically exact in adapting them to particular characters, which cannot be the cafe as to the modern stage where the actors appear without such monstrous difguises. However the manners, both as to the dress and the figure of the actors may be divided in the fame way as in the compofition of the drama itself.. For first as to goodness. It is obvious that the dress of the characters not only in tragedy, but in comedy and even farce, must be above the level of real life, as is evident in the theatrical representation of shepherds and beggars. As to the perfon of the performer the fame holds in a more essential degree especially in actresses. In real life we know Yy from
from every day's experience, that very plain women are capable of exciting very violent attachment; and if we look among our acquaintance for those who have formed imprudent connections with the sex, we shall not always find the objects remarkable for their personal charms. But a person who does not feel this particular attachment, or if he does, contemplates it in another person, can only conceive beauty as the natural object of love. [G] A Romeo therefore fighing to an ugly Juliet, and apparently turned of forty, will not only excite ridicule but disgust. The theatre is much more delicate in this refpect than it was formerly. I have seen Mr. Havard and Mrs. Pritchard perform Constant and Lady Brute, when the progress of age and decay was marked not only by their figure but by the tremulous modulation of their voice. This however never appeared in Garrick; he acted even young Hamlet and Archer with propriety till he quitted the stage. One of the most beautiful and elegant women living either on or off the stage will, I hope, forgive me for citing her as an example of an impropriety exactly of an opposite nature; I mean in the character of Mrs. Oakley. I will not pretend to determine how far a most lovely and accomplished woman might, in real life, contrive to render herself disagreeable and troublesome to a husband, by conftant and unreasonable jealousy; but every general spectator will be rather inclined to think the man, whom Miss Farren, from suspicious fondness, cannot bear to have out of her company a moment, an object of envy rather than pity or ridicule. The requifite of goodness alfo on the modern theatre applies to the scenery, as in chambers and cottages; indeed this is also sometimes defective [G] See Hill's Actor, paffim. from
POETIC OF ARISTOTLE. from being too good. There is no poffibility of representing the inside of Bobadil's' convenient cabin,' on a London theatre. Secondly, The dress and persons of the performers should be in character, and the scenery likewife. A foldier should not be dressed like a senator or acted by an old or feeble man; neither should the scene represent a room when the dialogue shews the action is in a wood. The third requisite differs from this only as particular characters do from general ones. Prince Henry should not be as fat as Falstaff. Firelocks should not be introduced at the battle of Philippi; nor should the scene represent St. James's Park when Richard falls by the hand of his competitor in Bofworth field. A breach of the fourth requisite consistency was fully exemplified by the practice of the old theatre taken notice of in Note v. on Chap. vI. when one or two characters only were dressed in the habit of the time or place of the drama, and the rest in the fashionable dress of the day. Yy 2 CHAP.
16.1.
mvp-aristotle-comment-58
16.1
THE DISCOVERY HAVING BEEN ALREADY DEFINED, WE WILL NOW DISTINGUISH ITS DIFFERENT FORMS. THE FIRST, WHICH IS THE LEAST ARTFUL, AND TO WHICH THE GENERALITY OF POETS IN THEIR DEFICIENCY OF GENIUS RESORT, IS THAT BY TOKENS.
THE critic having in the eleventh chapter, given a general definition of the discovery as an essential incident to the interest of poetic fable, proceeds now to mention and diftinguish the merit of its various forms, beginning according to his usual method with that which he esteems lowest in point of excellence. He divides this mode by tokens, first into natural and adventitious; and these he fubdivides again into such as are produced on purpose and such as happen accidentally. Of all these our theatre affords examples. The tokens that occafion the discovery of Douglas and of Indiana in the Confcious Lovers, are accidental and adventitious. That of Almanzor in the Conquest of Grenada is accidental and natural. That of Arviragus in Cymbeline is natural and shewn on purpose. That of [A] Sir William [A] Perhaps this does not exactly come under the predicament of the spear and embroidery of Oreftes, as he is rather recognized by his person than his star and ribbon. Honeywood
POETIC OF ARISTOTLE. Honeywood in the Good-natured Man, is adventitious and shewn on purpose. I confefs I do not fee the difference as to merit, between the accidental and intentional discovery which Aristotle insists on, and upon which his general scale of excellence feems so much to depend. This circumstance feems to me to be entirely regulated by the fituation of the character. If he even knows himself his own situation and wishes to conceal it, as in the case of Ulyffes and Euryclea in the nineteenth book of the Odyffey, it must be accidental, as it certainly must if he is ignorant of his own situation as in Douglas. But if conscious himself who he is, though concealed from others, he chuses to discover himself as in the cafe of Ulysses to Eumæus and Philætius in the twenty-second book of the Odyssey; or if unconscious himself, a person who knows his fituation like the old man in Merope and Belarius in Cymbeline discovers him, I must think the intentional discovery infinitely preferable. The intentional discovery even by merely throwing off a disguise, as in the Countess of Salisbury, and the Duke in Measure for Meafure, has a fine theatrical effect. Perhaps there is no instance more striking than Æneas's discovery of himself in the second Æneid. [B]Coram quem quæritis adfum • Troius Æneas Libicis ereptus ab undis.' [B] The spirit of this is lost in the translations. For me to attempt the restoration of it after such names as Dryden and Warton, would be at once folly and prefumption. Shakespear however has caught it not indeed from Virgil, but from nature. ،
This is I Hamlet the Dane -
16.2.
mvp-aristotle-comment-59
16.4
THE SECOND ARE THOSE INVENTED BY THE POET AND THEREFORE INARTIFICIAL.
THIS passage at first fight appears very extraordinary as all the modes of discovery may be said to be invented by the poet. But Aristotle soon explains himself by the example he gives of [c] Orestes in the Iphigenia in Tauris, who is not discovered to his sister as she is to him by a natural and accidental circumstance, but from saying what the poet chose to put in his mouth: that is in fact by declaring directly he is Orestes, and bringing such proof as he, or rather the poet thought necessary, as describing a particular spear, and a piece of Electra's embroidery, which used to be in her chamber, and which from the reserved life of the women of Greece, could have been only seen by a near connection as a father or brother. But this mode of discovery the critic adds borders on what he had blamed in the former species, the introduction of tokens for the fole purpose of confirming the discovery; for Orestes might as well have [D] actually introduced a token, as recalled the memory of one. For this sense of the passage I acknowledge myself obliged to Mr.. Twining. It perfectly agrees with the context. The similitude between this and the first mode is striking as well as with the web of Philomela; for however affected the voice of a shuttle' may be to [c] Perhaps the whole circle of fable ancient and modern, does not afford a more interesting and affecting discovery than that of Joseph to his brothers in the sacred scriptures.. [D] Εξῆν γὰρ ἕνια καὶ ἐνεγκεῖν. See note on the translation. express
POETIC OF ARISTOTLE. express [E] a story represented in embroidery, it seems to be the most reasonable interpretation that can be given of it: and its resemblance with the embroidery of Electra is very obvious. Neither do I think the objection started by Mr. Twining, that a traditional circumstance like this, could not be said to be an invention of the poet has much weight. For though the story is now very common from being related in so popular a work as Ovid's Metamorphofes, it does not follow it was so in the time of Sophocles, or that he might not have invented it in the tragedy now mentioned. That such a thing is very possible appears from the tale of Achilles being invulnerable [F]; which, though imputed to Homer, seems to have originated with Statius.
16.3.
mvp-aristotle-comment-60
16.6
THE THIRD FORM IS BY RECOLLECTION.
THIS cannot mean that the recollection is itself the immediate cause of the discovery, but that it occafions the person recollecting to discover himself by some sudden exclamation, passion, or action. For fuch are the two examples given by Aristotle. A person bursting into tears on the fight of a picture [G], and Ulyffes weeping at the recital of his [E] This is however greatly softened by the very probable conjecture of Mr. Twining, that this expreffion is not the language of Aristotle but a quotation from the tragedy. Suppose the words in answer to a question of Tereus, 'Whose voice condemns me?' and accompanied with the production or mention of the web. [F] See Note VII. Chap. xv. [G] Virgil if he had chosen it, might have availed himself of this circumstance, which he has used in his first Æneid, to have discovered Æneas to Dido, but he preferred the mode mentioned in the first note on this chapter. own
own adventures. The discovery of Lady Randolph to the old Shepherd in Douglas, and that of Julia in the Two Gentlemen of Verona, where she faints on hearing Valentine offer Sylvia to his rival, are exactly in the same predicament. Perhaps the most whimsical discovery in any drama, and which is also caused by a fudden exclamation, is in the original French opera of Richard Cœur de Lion, where the old Knight is discovered to be an Englishman by saying GODDAM.
16.4.
mvp-aristotle-comment-61
16.10
THE FOURTH IS BY REASONING.
THIS mode of discovery must also come under the fame class with the preceding one, and arise from some sudden effect wrought on the character by his reasoning, or rather from his reasoning being over-heard, which occasions his discovery, and not from the reasoning itself. For an inference occafioned by the circumstances, is the fource of every kind of discovery; as recollection, mentioned in the last note is the cause of our recognizing the perfon in the morning whom we parted with the evening before. Befides all the examples given by Aristotle imply this, except that from the Choephori if the tragedy of that name written by Æschylus is meant, which remains to be proved, [H], as several tragedies of the fame name and even on the same story may differ, and frequently do, as to the manner of arranging the circumftances of the fable, and bringing about the catastrophe. [H] See Note Iv. Chap. XVIII. See also Mr. Twining, Note 130. This
POETIC OF ARISTOTLE. This mode seems to border strongly on the worst possible discovery that of over-hearing a foliloquy, as in the discovery of King Henry to the Foresters in Hen. VI. Part III.
16.5.
mvp-aristotle-comment-62
16.11
THERE IS ALSO A COMPOUND (1) SPECIES OF DISCOVERY ARISING FROM A FALSE REASONING OF THE SPECTATORS.
THE precise meaning of the paragraph of which this sentence is a part, and especially the example included in it, baffles all conjecture. The only rational meaning that can be supposed is, that besides these modes of discovery where the reasoning is just, there may be a mode in which, from the combination of various circumstances, the spectator may be induced to think there is sufficient proof to infer the reality of the person discovered, and yet on examination such an inference will not logically follow from the premises. A's to the tragedy produced as an example, all seems utter obscurity. I will however mention a conjecture on the subject communicated to me by a learned and ingenious friend, which is at least very plausible. He supposes the tragedy in question to be taken from the discovery of Ulyffes to Penelope in the twenty-third book of the Odyssey, and in [1] Ariftotle calls this mode of discovery ΣΥΝΘΕΤΟΣ ἐκ παραλογισμᾶ τῷ θεάτρα. Synthesis by combining simple terms produces a truth' (or a falfhood if the premises or reasoning are false ἐκ παραλογισμέ). Hermes, Book 1. Chap. I. page 3, and then in a note. Περὶ γὰρ σύνθεσιν καὶ διάιρεσιν ἔςι τὸ ψευδός τε καὶ τὸ ἀληθές.. « True and false are seen • in composition and division.' Zz which
which he is disguised as a messenger instead of a beggar; a change certainly very consonant with the dignity of tragic representation when compared with epic description. And he proposes, that instead of τόξον we should read τοιχον [κ]. This conceded, the whole answers my notion of the sense of the passage. Penelope who is neither satisfied of the identity of Ulyffes, by the testimony of Telemachus and Euryclea, nor by a miracle wrought in favour of her husband by his restoration to the youth and figure he possessed on his leaving her twenty years before, is at last convinced by his description of her nuptial bed, which he had framed himself, and which no one else had seen but a faithful flave named Actoris. < The fecrets of the bridal bed are known To thee, to me, to Actoris alone, (My father's present in the spousal hour, • The fole attendant on our genial bower,). • Since what no eye has seen thy tongue reveal'd, • Hard and distrustful as I am, I yield.'... POPE'S Odyssey, L. XXIII. v. 241. Original, v. 225. [K] The words are so alike as to be easily confounded by a careless or a conceited transcriber, who recollecting how much depends on a bow at the conclusion of the Odyssey, might be tempted to change them on purpose, as the article τὸ which marks the gender, Mr. Win- The word τοιχος seems particularly applied to a bridal stanley observes is omitted in one Ms. chamber in Canticles, Chap. 11. ver. 9. Ἰδοὺ ἦτος ἔςηκεν ὁπίσω τῷ τοίχε ἡμῶν Παρακύπλων διὰ τῶν θυρίδων. I know the interpreters render this WALL, but it does not seem to agree with the context; and the Hebrew word כתל which occurs only in this place, seems derived from the fame word in Arabic, which as a verb signifies, to unite, COEGIT IN UNUM, and as a substantive, union, ADUNATIO, CUM QUID SIMUL COGITUR. This
POETIC OF ARISTOTLE. This certainly was not a fufficient proof of the identity of Ulyffes [L], because there was a poffibility of Actoris having betrayed the secret; therefore whatever may have been the cafe with the spectators of the Ulyffes Pfeudangelus, the readers of the Odyssey if they suppose the difcovery of Ulyffes to Penelope compleatly confirmed by this circumstance are guilty of a paralogism, they draw a false conclufion from the premises. I must add, that in real life we often find persons raifing objections where no difficulty occurs, objecting to arguments that ought to convince them, and being fatisfied at last by a reason that ought not to convince them [м]. There is an objection however to this solution which it is necessary to notice. The discovery of Orestes to Iphigenia mentioned in Note 11. on this Chapter, is exactly liable to the fame observation. The fpear and embroidery might as well have been known to other eyes befides those of Orestes, as the bridal chamber of Penelope might to others, befides Ulysses and Actoris. The force of this objection will depend much on [L] See Pope's Note on v. 183, of the twenty-third book of his tranflation of the Odyssey. Granting One part of which in particular is so very appofite to this passage that I shall cite it. ' that the perfon before her [Penelope ] was a real man, and that no man but Ulyffes was acquainted • with the nuptial bed, it follows that this man is the real Ulyffes.' But neither of these premises can be granted. For the perfon, as suggested by Euftathius, might have been a god, or Actoris might have betrayed the secret to a man.. [M] Though the bed-chambers of the Grecian ladies were so much more fecluded from general observation, than those of the beauties of modern Europe, yet perhaps it would not have been out of character in Penelope, confidering her extreme incredulity, to have faid, on this laft proof with Pofthumus in Cymbeline, This is a thing • Which you might from relation likewise reap,
the usual accuracy or inaccuracy of Aristotle's examples, and the observation of the reader, whether he finds them comprehending every circumstance of resemblance, or only pointing in one particular instance to the object he wishes to illustrate. There is a passage in the [N] twenty-fourth chapter of the Poetic where Ariftotle is speaking of the epopee, obviously alluding to the same subject, and equally obfcure. Had either been clear it might have illuftrated the other; perhaps some happier critic may be able to strike out a spark of light from their mutual opacity.
16.6.
mvp-aristotle-comment-63
16.12
BUT OF ALL MODES OF DISCOVERY, THAT IS THE BEST WHICH IS DERIVED FROM THE CIRCUMSTANCES THEMSELVES.
I PERFECTLY agree with Mr. Twining, Notes 133, 134, in confidering this as diftinguished by the critic from all the other classes. Indeed this is not only expressly marked by the word ' alone' (μόναι) but from the real fact: for besides the jewels and natural marks which are necessary either for the production or confirmation of the discovery in the two first forms, those tokens also which are in consequence of recollection and inference, may equally be esteemed not only as inventions of the poet, but as invented for the immediate purpose of the discovery. [N] See Note VII. Chap. xxiv. To
POETIC OF ARISTOTLE. To form a proper discovery of this kind is of all the arts of the poet by far the most difficult. (P) We have already mentioned how hard a task it is to keep a principal character concealed both from the audience and other persons of the drama during the course of the play, by whatever mode the discovery is made; but when the discovery at last is to arise, and be confirmed by the preceding incidents only, the difficulty is increased to such a degree as to be only furmountable by the efforts of superior genius. What can put both the invention and judgment of the poet to so great an exertion as to contrive his incidents in such a manner that the audience, or the reader should never once conceive the real situation of his principal character, and yet when his real situation is revealed, it should be confirmed by a retrofspect examinate of those incidents. My most diligent recollection will furnish me with no example ancient or modern of a composition in which this arduous task is strictly and perfectly executed, except that wonderful effort of judgment and imagination the comic epopee of Tom Jones. No reader I believe ever guessed that the hero of the piece would turn out to be the nephew of Allworthy and the son of Mrs. Bridget, till the moment before the discovery takes place, and yet how natural is the behaviour of those who know the circumstance, when the incidents are examined afterwards. With what nice touches is the conduct of the mother expressed, and especially her partiality to Jones; and Dowling, when he accidentally meets Jones on the road, actually calls Allworthy his uncle without giving the reader the least suspicion of the truth; so inimitable is the art of the poet. [P] See Note II. Chap. XI. and Note IV. Chap. xiv. The
The Edipus though a masterpiece of this kind is by no means of equal merit. [Q] It was impossible, during so long a stay at Thebes, but Edipus must have heard of the death of Laius, and the exposure of his infant son, so concurrent with the response of the oracle to him, which occafioned his determination not to return to Corinth. Aristotle observed this defect, and he has tried to palliate it by remarking that it occurred prior to the opening of the drama, or as Mr. Bays would have expressed himself, ' Long before the beginning of the play.' ، [Q] See Note v. Chap. XIII. CHAP.
17.1.
mvp-aristotle-comment-64
17.1
THE POET AS WELL WHEN HE COMPOSES THE INCIDENTS AS WHEN HE ADDS THE LANGUAGE, OUGHT AS MUCH AS POS- SIBLE TO CONSIDER EVERY THING AS PASSING BEFORE HIS EYES.
THIS rule [A], by which the epopee is much less shackled, though by no means exempt from its observance, is of the utmost confequence to the dramatic poet. As to the instance of a drama failing in the representation from a neglect of this necessary care which Ariftotle adduces, though the particular tragedy is loft, we may easily supply the nature of the error from conjecture. We may suppose Amphiaraus to be in a temple out of which it was impossible for him to come unobserved by the spectators, and then to appear on the stage without being perceived to come out of it. From this obfervation Dacier infers the strict attention to the unity of place on the ancient theatre, of which we have spoken so largely before [B]. But surely it has nothing to do with it. It was undoubtedly not the general practise of the ancient theatre to change the supposed scene of action. And as the action from the continued prefence of the chorus was seldom if ever interrupted, it was barely possible that a cha-
[A] See Note v. Chap. xxiv. [B] See Note III. Chap. v. racter,
racter, after being supposed to go into a confined place in the fight of the spectators could be conceived to come out again unseen by them, without violating, not the arbitrary rules of the drama, but the natural probability of the representation. And on the other hand, from the frequent change of scene and intervals of action this may happen on the modern, or at least on the English stage, without the least absurdity. But nevertheless though this is generally true of both, it is not univerfally true. When a change of scene is plainly implied by the language and incidents of the Grecian drama, such an event may take place there WITHOUT improbability; and if the identity of place and continuation of action is marked in an English drama, such an event cannot take place WITH propriety. In the Eumenides of Æschylus, where, after Apollo has perfuaded Orestes to quit his temple at Delphos and repair to that of Minerva at Athens, his perfecutors follow him, and afterwards he goes out himself; they may without impropriety all enter again at the fame door, because that door, though according to the apparatus of the ancient theatre exactly the fame, is now supposed to be changed from the temple of Apollo to that of Minerva; fince between the verses 234 and 235 the scene is obviously changed from Delphos to Athens, and as Orestes and the chorus immediately appear, there must be a break in the action comprehending a considerable interval of time. And in an English play represented even without scenery in a private house, if a character were to go into a door, we will suppose as into a closet to be concealed, (a common incident in comedy,) and during the obvious continuation of the scene appear at another door, should not we laugh at the striking impropriety? Or to take a contrary instance from a particular play; if in the last scene of the Clandestine Marriage, Sir John Melville were to come out of the very door from which Lord Ogleby is summoning
POETIC OF ARISTOTLE. summoning him, we should hardly agree with the learned Serjeant in pronouncing it to be the clearest ALIBI We ever saw proved. The last scene of Shakespear's Romeo and Juliet seems to be at the same time both within and without the monument of the Capulets. The duel between Romeo and Paris is in the church-yard. The death of Romeo, as also the awakening and death of Juliet must be within the monument, the inside of which could not be seen from the church-yard, as on the entry of Friar Laurence he only discovers a light in it, on a nearer approach he difcerns the blood of Paris on the stoney entrance, and obviously on looking down into the vault discovers the bodies of Romeo and Paris. To shew how this confirms the doctrine of Ariftotle as to the difference between the epopee and tragedy in this respect, I never was struck by it though a frequent and attentive reader of our immortal bard, till I faw Mr. Northcote's picture in the Shakespear Gallery, who has drawn the scene in the inside of the vault with the body of Romeo lying at the foot of the stairs that lead down to the bottom of it. In the play as now represented this is entirely obviated by the judicious alteration of Mr. Garrick. For Juliet awakens, and comes out of the tomb as Romeo is about to enter it. It is necessary also for the dramatic poet to adapt his language to the action that must accompany it, especially in those striking situations which are most calculated to produce strong theatrical effect [c]. An [c] We have no appropriated name for these in English. The French call them coUPS DE THEATRE. 3 A over-
over-fight of this kind seems to occur in the Grecian Daughter. When Euphrafia stabs Dionyfius she exclaims, * A daughter's arm fell monster strikes the blow, • Yes first she strikes; an injur'd daughter's arm. • Sends thee devoted to th' infernal gods.' All, or at least the greatest part of this seems to be intended to precede the blow: and yet probability requires that the blow of a woman that kills an armed warrior should be unforeseen and sudden [D]. The Regent affords another inftance of this kind of impropriety. Just at the con-- clufion the Duke and the Ufurper engage hand to hand before all the Duke's friends. They should either have fought before the Duke's attendants had arrived, or in prefence of both parties who might have been supposed to have mutually awed each other from interfering (E]. [D] Mrs. Siddons felt the force of this. She strikes Dionyfius without speaking a word, and repeats the passage over him as he lies on the ground. [E] See this circumstance compared with what Aristotle says of the battle between Achilles and Hector in the Iliad. Note v. Chap. xxiv. NOTE
17.2.
mvp-aristotle-comment-65
17.2
THOSE WHO ARE MOVED BY PASSIONS THEMSELVES WILL EX- PRESS THOSE PASSIONS MOST FORCIBLY FROM THEIR OWN FEELINGS. HENCE HE WHO IS REALLY AGITATED, STORMS, AND HE WHO IS REALLY ANGRY UPBRAIDS MOST TRULY AND NATURALLY.
IT is surprising that this sense of the last sentence of the quotation which is the obvious and literal tranflation of the Greek, and exactly an ill ustration of the precept and observation it follows, and with which the fucceeding comparison so exactly agrees, should have had a different meaning given it by all the tranflators and commentators before Mr. Twining; who indeed has not himself admitted it in the body of his tranflation, though he has compleatly established it in a note (138), to which the reader who entertains any doubt on the matter, is referred for conviction. The general sense hitherto given has been the neceffity the poet has of feeling himself, who wishes to affect the feelings of others, and indeed this is the ultimate meaning of the precept, and therefore it is virtually though not literally of the fame weight with the observation of Horace. [F] • To make me grieve be first your anguish shewn.' COLMAN, V. 154. [F]
Si vis me flere dolendum est • Primum ipfi tibi.'- HOR. ART. POET. V. 102. 3 A 2 But
But Aristotle is not contented with saying what ought to be the final effect on the spectator or reader, he is telling us how to produce the cause of that effect, which is the natural expression of the passion by the poet, and which can only be done by his entering himself into the feelings of those he represents. By doing this, he says, he will certainly find the proper means of expreffing those feelings; for who can fo well utter the language of any paffion as he who is at the time under the actual influence of it; having said this he pursues it no further, it being obvious that the best and most natural expression of paffion will awake the strongest sympathy in the mind of the spectator. It is very apparent that the fame precept is applicable to the actor. In vain may the poet paint the passions naturally, if the player does not exhibit the picture to advantage in the representation; and to do this well, his imagination should be as fufceptible as that of the poet. I have: already mentioned a fingular anecdote from Hill's Actor in confirmation of this [G]. The ancient actors could not have the fame powers of enforcing the sentiments of the poet from their theatrical dress, or rather disguise. Yet even their natural feelings were of great effect in assisting the truth of their representation. There is a remarkable instance of this kind related by Aulus Gellius. There was a celebrated Grecian actor who • excelled all others in his action and the elegance and clearness of his voice. His name was Polus. He performed the tragedies of the * best poets with propriety and confidence. This Polus lost an only fon ← whom he greatly loved. However when his grief was abated he re- [G] See Note Iv. Chap. XIII. turned,
POETIC OF ARISTOTLE. ' turned to the exercise of his art. At this time being to play the part • of Electra in the tragedy of Sophocles, at Athens, he was to carry an urn which was supposed to contain the ashes of Orestes. For according to the subject of the play, Electra supposing herself to carry the remains of her brother, deplores and laments his death as believing ' him to have been murdered. Polus there, dressed in the mournful • habit of Electra, carried the urn and ashes of his fon taken from the ، sepulchre, and embracing them, as if they were those of Oreftes, ful- • filled every requisite of his part, not with fictitious and imitative representation, but with true grief and serious lamentation; and while • he seemed to be only assuming a fabulous character, was fincerely • affected by real forrow.' Much has been faid of the power of the pencil in expreffing at the fame time various and even opposite passions. This one of the best judges of the subject, Sir Joshua Reynolds, has pronounced impoffible; all that painting can do, which is confined to an instant, is to express the succession of paffion by the effect of a consequence of the former paffion, as a tear stealing down a countenance beginning to smile, as Andromache [н]
• Mingled with her smile a tender tear.' POPE. Can an actor do more ? or as much as we talk of being torn by contending paffions, are we ever at the fame instant actually occupied by two of a different tendency, though the tranfition may be so sudden as not to be easily perceptible? [Η] Δακρυόεν γελάσασα.. Hill
Hill in his Actor says, • Had I the power I would make a fingle tear steal down the unaltered face of Cato while he speaks the famous line, " Thanks to the gods, my boy has done his duty."
Though at the expence of striking out the fucceeding observation,
" Rome fills his eyes "With tears that flow'd not o'er his own dead fon."
17.3.
mvp-aristotle-comment-66
17.3
HENCE THE FICTIONS OF A GOOD POET MAY BE SAID TO RE- SEMBLE THOSE OF A MADMAN.
I THINK not only the context and the spirit of this chapter, but the whole tenor of the treatise settles the meaning of this passage beyond the possibility of a doubt. Had Ariftotle been treating of lyric and dithyrambic poetry there might have been some reason for supposing that by μανικõ he might mean only violent poetical enthusiasm, the MENS DIVINIOR of Horace, which carried him • Above this visible diurnal sphere.' But the critic is not here, nor in any part of the Poetic speaking of daring flights of poetical fancy, or exaggerated pictures of life and manners, but is giving directions how best to excite the sentiments of pity and terror by faithful and natural copies of the real effect of those paffions on the human breaft, and the external figns by which they become manifeft; and I conceive μανικὸς here to have its fimple primitive signification of a maniac or madman. We are told that the poet should not only
POETIC OF ARISTOTLE. only have an eye to the dramatic effect in his writings as to the representation, but should also while he is composing, put himself as much as poffible into the situation of the character he is drawing; for by feeling the internal sensation of the paffion he will be best able to express by language the external figns of it; for though no art can come up to the real effufions of nature, yet those who can most easily put themselves from the ductility of their imagination into fimilar fituations, will imitate them with most exactness; this is obvious from what we may observe in madmen, they really fancy themselves from the disorder of their reasoning powers in situations totally foreign to the truth, and the im-- pression is so strong that they act and speak entirely as if they were the identical persons, and in the precise situations which their distracted fancy suggests to them. Now a poet of a lively and plastic imagination, and who is capable of entering into the true spirit of the character and paffion he is going to draw, should in some measure partake of this feature of madness, feeling and acting, almost as strongly in the fituation. of this imaginary character from the ductility of his fancy, as the mad-- man does from the derangement of his intellects.. In the celebrated passage in the Midsummer Night's Dream, Shake-- spear has made exactly the same comparison; undoubtedly from his own reflection, for I believe none of his most sanguine admirers will suppose him trying purposely to illustrate a precept of the Stagirite; though no man who ever lived seems so capable of shooting his own foul into the bosom of the character he wished to draw. His example seems to be particularly directed to the imitation, if I may use the word, of fupernatural and imaginary beings, in which he so much excelled. The
• The lunatic, the lover, and the poet, • Are of imagination all compact. • One fees more devils than vast hell can hold. • That is the madman.'- With the lover we have nothing to do here. • The poet's eye in a fine frenzy rolling, • Doth glance from heav'n to earth, from earth to heav'n; • And as imagination bodies forth The forms of things unknown, the poet's pen • Turns them to shape, and gives to airy nothing • A local habitation and a name; • Such tricks hath strong imagination.'
17.4.
mvp-aristotle-comment-67
17.4
THE POET WHEN HE INVENTS HIS FABLE SHOULD FIRST FORM IT GENERALLY,
THE critic here appears to illustrate what he has faid before of the poet's still retaining that character even when he writes on known stories [1]. The plan of the fable should first be generally drawn; the plot and its solution arranged; and then the episodic and subordinate parts added; and if the fable is purely fiction the names are invented; if founded entirely or in part on truth or tradition, they are inserted from the known story; of which last method he gives an instance both from the epopee and the drama. [1] See Note v. Chap. xx. These
POETIC OF ARISTOTLE. These instances seem sufficiently to prove that Aristotle does not confine himself here to fuch fables as are entirely the invention of the poet, as Mr. Twining imagines, (Note 142), for the Odyssey must be at leaft a traditional if not an historical subject. Perhaps the construction of epic and dramatic fable may in this respect be distinguished by three general classes, though each capable of receiving innumerable inferior distinctions and modifications. First, those which are purely historical, such as the Iliad and Odyssey, the Edipus, the hiftorical plays of Shakespear, and the earl of Effex. Here the names are all historical, and the poet must on no pretence deviate from the known story in essential circumstances; all he can do is to find out such a fable, which though founded in fact has like the Odyssey, the proper requifites of general truth, or may be made to have them by some additional touches. [K] As for instance in the tragedy of the earl of Essex, Voltaire is very severe on Corneille, (and the same reasoning will apply to our tragedies on the same subject) for making Elizabeth young when she was really a very old woman, as she certainly was at the death of Effex. M. Lessing in his Dramaturgie [L], though he carries, I think, his notion of general fable rather too far, adopting in some measure the opinions of Bossu, anfwers Voltaire on these principles, that if the queen, though at the age of fixty-eight, was amorous and jealous, in consequence of which an event very proper for a fable took place, there could be no impropriety in supposing her age to be more congenial with her paffions [M]. Were Elizabeth on the stage to appear an old woman, [K] See Note Iv. Chap. xv. [1] Part 1. page 57. the [M] It is impoffible for a drama to come nearer history than the Antony and Cleopatra of Shakespear, and yet much of the effect would suffer were one to be represented as between 3 B fifty
the whole circumstance of the death of Effex would contain that mixture of the dreadful and the absurd, which though frequently found in the tragedies of real life would be very incongruous in dramatic fable. The next are those which are partly historical, and partly fictitious, of which perhaps the Iphigenia in Tauris may be an instance [N]. All the traditional story may be, that on the point of being facrificed she was saved by the interpofition of Diana, and the rest the invention of the poet. The Æneid, and the tragedy of King Lear, as also the Paradise Loft, come under this form. The chief art of the poet here is to draw the manners of the known characters, as Aristotle requires with the proper likeness. In this the [o] Æneid is as defective, as the Paradise Loft is excellent. When the fable and characters are entirely the invention of the poet, as in the Flower of Agatho, and in the Regent, the tragic and comic writer are in the same situation as to the structure of the fable [r], which they first form, and then add any cafual names. fifty and fixty and the other as forty. When Dryden, without any motive, chuses in his All for Love to make Ventidius reproach Antony with his declining age, and his natural incapacity for love, he gives a striking instance how the poet ought NOT to arrange historical incidents. [N] There never was a more fantastick monster ifsfued from the regions of fable than those absurd mixtures of truth and fiction the old French romance, such as the Grand Cyrus, and its spurious offspring the modern historical novel. [o] I conceive the Iliad as the archetype of the received characters of the Æneid. [P] See Note III. Chap. Ix. In
POETIC OF ARISTOTLE. In all tragedies founded on novels the fame distinctions hold as in those founded on real history. This was generally the cafe with our old writers, and especially Shakespear. I recollect no other of his plays, either tragedy or comedy, except the Merry Wives of Windfor, for the outline of which he is not indebted to some old tale. The tragic poets of the present day generally supply both incident and character from their own invention. 3 B 2 CHAP.
18.1.
mvp-aristotle-comment-68
18.3
PLOT AND ITS SOLUTION ARE INCIDENT TO EVERY TRAGEDY.
THE critic might have added, and to every kind of imitative fable. I found a confiderable difficulty in choosing proper terms to diftinguish these material, and indeed essential parts of tragedy. The word plot indeed was perfectly familiar to the writers on the drama half a Century ago, in consequence of which, though it is now out of use, I have adopted it. The word SOLUTION, though not usual, I preferred to borrowing the word DENOUMENT from our neighbours, or employing the harsh term UNRAVELLING, as it is certainly expressive of the meaning it is intended to convey. The plot then contains every part of the tale that is supposed to happen before the actual commencement of the drama, or the time supposed to be included in the epic poem itself, as also all that is comprehended in them, during which the spectator is in doubt as to the final issue of the story. The solution is the clearing up of that doubt, whether productive of happiness or misery. As all that is not solution is plot, (which comprehends every part of the play or poem, where the action does not stand still, except the catastrophe, and the circumstances from which it immediately arises,) it will be only necessary to specify the solution. That, in the Iliad is the cessation of the rage of Achilles; in the Odyssey the death of the suitors and the recognition of Ulysses by Penelope; in the Æneid the death of Turnus; in
POETIC OF ARISTOTLE. in the Paradise Lost the fall; in King Lear, as written by Shakespear, the death of Cordelia and Lear; in Tate's and Colman's alteration their deliverance; in Much Ado about Nothing the vindication of Hero's innocence; and in Tom Jones the discovery of his relation to Allworthy.
18.2.
mvp-aristotle-comment-69
18.5
THE PATHETIC.
THE examples given here of this species of tragedy, as the story of Ixion, and especially the tragedy of Ajax, confirm what has been faid of the idea of pathos and pathetic among the ancients, as also what Aristotle says of the Iliad afterwards, as distinguished from the Odyssey[A]. Of this kind of tragedy our old writers furnish innumerable examples. Shakespear, though by no means sparing of blood, is much more moderate than many of his cotemporaries in this respect, unless we rank Titus Andronicus and the Yorkshire tragedy among his compositions.
18.3.
mvp-aristotle-comment-70
18.6
THE SIMPLE.
THIS species of tragedy has been already noticed in the tenth chapter [B]. In this the solution rises from the incidents alone, the [A] See Ch. XI. Note (A) on the translation, and Note 1, of the commentary on Ch. XXIV. [B] See Note 1. Chap. x... plot
plot naturally unravels itself without any violent change. Venice Preserved is an instance of this kind.
18.4.
mvp-aristotle-comment-71
18.10
THE DIFFERENCE OR SAMENESS OF ONE TRAGEDY AND ANO- THER MUST NOT BE ESTIMATED BY THE FABLE, BUT BY THE PLOT AND SOLUTION.
THIS is illustrated by the observation in the last chapter as to the general formation of the fable, and subsequent application of names. The tragedies of the Regent and the Countess of Salisbury, as to the general plan, and the plot and solution are radically the fame, and both taken from the Odyssey. While the tragedy of Zenobia, written by Mr. Murphy, and Metastasio's opera of the same name, though both founded on the same historical event, related by Tacitus, from differing entirely as to the arrangement of the fable, and the plot and solution, are perfectly distinct dramas. A stronger instance yet may be drawn from Romeo and Juliet and Caius Marius, and the Sophonisba of Thomfon and Lee. Thus the poet has it in his power to transfer the same circumstances from a popular to an unpopular fubject. From whatever reason it arifes, the observation of Dr. Johnson that mythological fables do not fucceed on the English stage is founded on experience. The English like the Roman poets are fond of domestic story. • Vestigia
POETIC OF ARISTOTLE. Vestigia Græca ' Ausi deferere & celebrare domeftica facta [c].' On which lines there are some very judicious observations in Bishop Hurd's notes on the Epistle to the Pifos. I think the Odyssey as proper a fable for the drama as any I am acquainted with. But nothing would be so great an advantage as to follow the example of the [D] author of the Countess of Salisbury, and give the incidents an old English garb, which is so well fitted to them. How easily is the Trojan war changed to a crufade, Ulyffes made a feudal chief, ([E) which by the way he much more resembles than the pompous sovereign Pope has made him,) and concealed as a pilgrim instead of a beggar. [F] The happiest instance I know of a tranfition like this, is the Edward and Eleonora of Thomson, taken from the Alcestes of Euripides. [c] And boldly quitting Grecia's beaten ways, ' They twine for native chiefs, dramatic bays.' According to Le Pere Brumoy the French entirely differ from us in this respect. See DISCOURS SUR LE PARALLELE DES THEATRES. [D] I only speak as to the design; the execution of it is below mediocrity. Besides I believe the author never thought immediately of the Odyssey, but only copied it through the medium of the novel called Longsword, Earl of Salisbury. [E] See Note 1. Chap. xxiv. [F] This was attended with peculiar difficulty as the English poet was obliged to produce the solution by nature, which the Greek poet had effected by a machine. On this account an improbability is incurred in the English drama. We may allow Hercules, after the good office he has done, to play a little with the feelings of Admetus. But to suppose such characters as Selim, as Glocester, as Theald, and even as Eleonora herself, would keep Edward a moment
18.5.
mvp-aristotle-comment-72
18.11
THERE ARE MANY WHO FORM THE PLOT WELL, AND THE SOLUTION ILL.
THERE are two causes which chiefly lead to this fault. One is a weariness of the subject towards the end of the piece, and the consequent defire of precipitating the catastrophe: a fault sometimes found in Shakespear, in common with other dramatic writers of his time [G]. The other is when a writer has so involved his character in difficulties, that it is out of his power to extricate him by probable means; and not being able to untie the Gordian knot, he is forced to cut it [H]. This observation of Aristotle may be inverted: for there are poets who form the solution well and the plot ill. Such are those who, fixing on some striking event before-hand for the catastrophe of the piece, are afterwards at a loss for preparatory incidents to fill up, with fufficient interest, the long space of five acts [1]. a moment in suspense is highly improbable, especially as the result of Eleonora's concealment is a trial of the prince's constancy; a most indelicate circumstance, from which Alcestes is perfectly clear, as she is entirely passive in the business. There is some refemblance to this in the solution of Much Ado About Nothing; but Hero is a most insipid character; otherwise she would not have thought Claudio's ready acceptance of her supposed cousin a great compliment to her own memory. [G] See Note 1. Chap. VII. [H] See Note VII. Chap. XIII. [1] See Note II. Chap. XII. There
POETIC OF ARISTOTLE. There is an excellent observation of Marmontel on this subject. He says, A capital defect, of which the ancients set the example, and ' which the moderns have but too much imitated, is the languor of the 'solution. This defect arises from a faulty distribution of the fable in ' five acts; of which the first is devoted to the opening the subject to ' the spectators, the three that follow to the [K] complication of the intrigue, and the last to the solution. According to this division the greatest danger lies in the fourth act, and to fill the fifth act it becomes neceffary to [L] unravel the intrigue flowly and by degrees, which cannot fail to render the catastrophe tedious and cold. But the fuddenness • of the solution ought never to lessen its probability, nor its probability to lessen its uncertainty. Conditions eafily fulfilled separately, but very difficult to reconcile with each other. It happens very rarely at present, that one or other of these two • censures is not incurred: the solution either is deficient in point of preparation, or of suspense. We carry with us to our pathetic plays two principles directly opposite; feelings which wish to be interested, • and an understanding which dislikes to be deceived. Our pretenfions to judge of every thing cause us to enjoy nothing. (M) We wish at ⚫ the same time to foresee the situations and be affected by them; to • contrive with the author and feel with the people; to have our fenfes • deluded and not deluded. New pieces have particularly this disadvantage that we go to them less as spectators than as critics. There every • connoiffeur is as it were double, and his heart finds a very troublesome [K] ' Au nœud de l'intrigue.' [L] DENOUER. [M] The critic, as described here, is just in the situation of a man who wishes at the fame time to be deceived by the tricks of a juggler, and find out how they are done. 3 C neigh-
neighbour in his judgement. Therefore the poet who had formerly only to feduce the imagination, has now also to surprize the dictates of • cool reflexion. If the clue that leads to the solution escapes the view, ، we cry it is too weak; if it appears, we say it is too grofs. What then • is the poet to do? To work on the foul, and pay no regard to the • cold analysis of the understanding.' ENCYCLOPEDIE, ARTICLE DENOUEMENT.
18.6.
mvp-aristotle-comment-73
18.16
IN THE TRAGEDIES THAT DEPEND ON THE PERIPETÍA AND THOSE THAT HAVE A SINGLE ACTION, SUCH POETS OFTEN ATTAIN THEIR PURPOSE; WHICH IS TO PRODUCE TRAGIC EFFECT, AND AT THE SAME TIME GRATIFY OUR FEELINGS BY MEANS WHICH APPEAR WONDERFUL.
I HAVE in this edition adopted the general sense given to this paffage by Mr. Twining, as well as the division of the whole passage, which I think perfectly just (N). Aristotle has condemned Agatho for crouding too many incidents into his drama. He now specifies in what he, and writers of the fame kind excel [o]. As to the expreffion of the [N] See his note 155. [o] As it does not appear that this excellence has any relation to the above-mentioned defect, he appears only to point out this merit of Agatho as a kind of fet-off against the other fault. And when he classes other poets with him, as he does by the use of the plural verb σοχάζονται, he must mean, I think, poets of the fame class with him in this particular excellence. means
POETIC OF ARISTOTLE. means being wonderful, (P) I would grasp at the flightest shadow that could justify the meaning I have ventured to give it, after Goulstone, Riccoboni, and Mr. Winstanley. Surprize, wonder, even improbability, are clearly the attendants of the kind of arrangement Aristotle is speaking of; and that they so appeared to him is equally clear from the apology he immediately makes for Agatho, by a quotation from his works. As to his confining these kind of folutions to the tragedies depending on peripetía, and those of a fingle construction, I do not fee the leaft propriety as to the last. Απλόος is in Chap. XIII. used twice by Ariftotle, and each time in a different sense, once as opposed to complicated and once as opposed to double. (See Notes (A) and (c), on the tranflation of Chap. x111.) If it is taken in the first sense as oppofed to complicated, the two examples must take in every species of tragedy, for in the tenth chapter he mentions the distinction between the fimple and complicated tragedy to depend on the one's having peripetía and difcovery, and the other not having them. But every tragedy must either have or not have the peripetía and discovery. Neither does the other meaning of ἀπλόος (which of the two evils I have chofen) agree much better; fince the overthrow of vice, though supported by wisdom and strength, manifestly must produce a different catastrophe for the good [P] That θαυμαςῶς cannot have the sense of per admirabile, is obvious. Mr. Twining fays, ' it feems all the Mss. give θαυμασῷς.' The sense of the context appears to call so loudly for the other meaning, that if all the printed copies and translators agreed, I should be tempted, MEO PERICULO, not to fuffer one figma to stand in my way, but read θαυμασῷ. But besides the authority of the tranflators I have quoted, it appears from the Spanish edition of Flores, that θαυμασῷ was the most popular reading. Since, he says, ' SOME editors (Algunas editores,) read θαυμαςῶς instead of θαυμασῷ. 3 C2 and
A COMMENTARY ON THE CHAP. XVIII. and the bad, which he makes in Chap. XIII, the essential distinction between the double and the single story. ، But here a much more essential difficulty occurs. Aristotle in the thirteenth chapter expreffly declares, that ' a very bad man should not • be reprefented as falling from happiness to misery, for though such an arrangement might be agreeable to our feelings, it would excite neither pity nor terror;' and confequently, according to Aristotle's precife definition of the word, would not be tragical. Yet here he gives absolutely and in unequivocal terms to this very arrangement of fable, the particular merit which he has before expreffly denied it. ، I can folve this difficulty into no other cause than change of opinion. And as I must think such a change of opinion justifies the proverb, * Second thoughts are best;' I can impute it only to the triumph of feeling over hypothesis [2]. Of vicious wisdom deceived, Sir Giles Overreach and Shylock are instances, as is the death of Dionyfius by Euphrafia, of the unexpected overthrow of impious courage and power. [Q] See Chap. XIII. Note III and VII. NOTE
18.7.
mvp-aristotle-comment-74
18.17
AGATHO OBSERVES, IT IS PROBABLE FOR MANY THINGS TO HAPPEN WHICH SEEM IMPROBABLE.
THIS passage of Agatho is quoted by Aristotle in the fecond book of his Rhetoric, Chapter xxiv, where he treats largely of general and contingent probability, and the fallacious arguments that may be produced by confounding one with the other. The reason why Ariftotle uses this argument now, is to justify his approbation of an arrangement of fable which is obviously against the general rules of probability. But experience tells us, that events happen every day contrary to general expectation, and as we are told by the highest authority, 'The battle is not always to the strong nor the race to the swift.' The probabilities as opposed to each other are diftinguished into the [R] absolute and the contingent. Now the contingent probability is certainly credible; and the critic tells us afterwards that [s] impoffibility, if the poet can render it even by sophistry credible, is preferable to incredible possibility. By these means we may reconcile this with the strong inculcation of probability both as to incident and character, which we find in Chapters ix and xv. This contingent probability, as indeed every interesting tale can prove [r], is a proper foundation for a dramatic action or character. [R] Απλῶς ἐικὸς, καὶ τὶ εικὸς. RHET. L. II. C. XXIV.. [s] See Note VII. Chap. xxiv. [T] See Mr. Twining, Note 156.. But
But the events of the action, and the behaviour of the character as exhibited in the course of the drama, must follow according to the rules of general probability. To illustrate this by an example, there is a contingent though not a general probability, that an armed leader attended by foldiers, may fall by the hand of a woman; therefore the catastrophe of the Grecian Daughter is no improper dramatic incident. Such an event supposed, the general probability is that it must be performed on a fudden, and unperceived, yet there is a contingent probability that a woman may vanquish a man in fair combat; but such an event would not follow naturally, either from the incidents of the fable or the character of Euphrafia, who is represented as a delicate woman and not as an Amazon. The tragedy of the Fatal Marriage affords a stronger proof of the defect of this contingent probability. Nothing could be more probable than for fuch a villain as Carlos to seal his crimes by the murder of his brother, but that such an act should take effect exactly at the time it did when the characters are in the highest possible distress, is purely accidental, and is not the probable or even incidental consequence of the most truly tragic situation the characters are in. The escape of Iphigenia from the altar (incidentally probable according to the popular belief of Greece) was a very good incident on which to found a tragedy, but a very inartificial solution of plot [u]. [u] As in the Iphigenia in Aulis, and the Iphigenia in Tauris. NOTE
18.8.
mvp-aristotle-comment-75
18.19
THE CHORUS OUGHT TO BE CONSIDERED AS ONE OF THE CHA- RACTERS OF THE DRAMA, AND BE DEEMED A PART OF THE WHOLE, AND CONTRIBUTE TO THE ACTION.
IT appears from this, that the dramatic writers, so early as the time of Aristotle, had found the chorus a dead weight, from which they wished to free themselves, and to render it a merely ornamental and adventitious part of the theatrical apparatus. (✗) However I do not wonder at this precept of Aristotle. As the prejudice of the times would not fuffer the total abolition of the chorus, or permit it to be entirely unconnected with the drama, every deviation from the custom of the best writers who made it an effential though fubordinate part of it had a tendency to restore the exploded form of tragedy in its original state, from which it appears to have been at first raised in opposition [Y] to general prejudice and superstition. [x] Mr. Colman, in one of his notes on the Epistle to the Pisos, makes the following judicious observation. ' Neither of these two critics (Aristotle and Horace) have taken up the • question (that is as to the intrinfic merit of the chorus) each of them giving directions for • the proper conduct of the chorus, confidered as an established and received part of tragedy.. [Y] See Note II. Chap. x11.. NOTE
A COMMENTARY ON THE CHAP. XVIII.
18.9.
mvp-aristotle-comment-76
18.20
INTRODUCING SONGS WHICH HAD NO CONNECTION WITH THE PIECE.
THESE extraneous fongs which Aristotle calls Embolima, by no means want their counter-part on the present theatre. It is not uncommon to fee it announced in the play-bills, that in fuch a part fuch a fong will be introduced. In the Italian opera (I mean as exhibited in this country) so little is the drama regarded that two acts only are often performed to give more time for the dances. A most ridiculous instance of these Embolima occurs in the English opera of Artaxerxes. The author, or rather the tranflator, took the opening chorus of Adriano in Siria, which happens to follow Artaserse in the works of Metastafio, for his finale, and consequently dressed a Perfian king in all the attributes of a Roman emperor. [z] [z] Adriano in Siria opens with this chorus, Vivi a noi vivi all impero Grande Augusto, e la tua fronte Su l'Oriente prigionero S' accostumi al facro allora. Of which, this tranflation is the finale of Artaxerxes. Live to us, to empire live Great Augustus, long may'st thou From the subject East receive Laurel wreaths to grace thy brow. See Andrews's Anecotes, Article Errors, page 108. CHAP.
19.1.
mvp-aristotle-comment-77
19.1
THE LANGUAGE AND THE SENTIMENTS.
By the first of these Aristotle means the fimple and grammatical construction of speech, as is manifeft from the succeeding chapter, and by the second the sense and intention that is declared by it. For in the fixth chapter he declares the sentiments, (διάνοια,) to be ‘' the means by • which the intention or opinion of those who speak is discovered.' • In • short (to use the words of Mr. Harris) sentiment in this sense means • little less than the universal subjects of our difcourse.' The modern drama confiders sentiments in a more confined sense; and, as now used, it is properly enough defined by Lord Kaims, 'the expref- • sion of a thought prompted by passion.' Sentiments of this fort well applied so as to flatter the taste, the feelings, or the prejudices of the audience, are the surest traps for applause. In one of the critical papers either in the Tatler, Guardian, or Spectator, the virtue of a Roman theatre is exalted above our own, for the applaufe given to a virtuous sentiment, in one of [A] Terence's comedies. Since [A] Homo fum, nihil humani a me alienum puto.' • I am a man myself, and can think nothing indifferent to me that concerns human kind.' 3 D I have
I have known the theatre, I can answer for a British audience being to the full as virtuous as the citizens of Rome in this respect. This is fo well known, both by poets and players, that our comedies abounded. with these moral fentences to an excess, which became perfectly ridiculous: a very little exaggeration of which, by the masterly pen of Mr. Sheridan, has now in a great measure delivered the stage from their redundancy at leaft.
19.2.
mvp-aristotle-comment-78
19.2
WHAT RELATES TO THE SENTIMENTS INDEED MAY RATHER BE REFERRED TO THE PRINCIPLES OF RHETORIC.
M. BATTEUX has given a sense to the whole passage, of which the above quotation is a part, directly oppofite to that of the other interpreters, all of whom he accuses of having applied to oratory what related to tragedy, and vice versa. I must confess I fee no shadow of fuch a fuppofition; and think the general meaning of the whole conveyed very clearly in the exact words of Ariftotle, as given in most of the printed editions; and which seems perfectly conformable with what is really the distinction between oratory and dramatic poetry. The critic first says, that sentiments belong most peculiarly to rhetoric; he then defines the nature and use of them, in raising and directing the feelings. Now he allows that the poet to work the fame effect must employ the fame means, such as amplification, extenuation, &c. but with this difference, that he must effect that by the incidents of the fable which the orator performs by the use of that application of speech which he terms sentiment; therefore sentiment belongs more effentially to rhetoric. NOTE
19.3.
mvp-aristotle-comment-79
19.5
FOR WHAT WOULD BE THE MERIT OF THE ORATOR IF THEY WERE TO APPEAR AFFECTING WITHOUT THE ASSISTANCE OF HIS ELOQUENCE?
THE word which I have translated affecting, (ἡδέα, SWEET, literally,) has difpleased most of the commentators, and certainly not without reafon, if it can have no other meaning given it than pleafant or agreeable, expreffive of sensations which it is far from the particular business of oratory, and still farther from that of tragedy to excite. But Horace, in a passage of his Epistle to the Pifos, which is plainly taken from this, and where he is speaking of the language of tragedy uses the very word of Ariftotle, to signify that which (B) influences the paffions strongly, a sense which the context has obliged the commentators to be unanimous in giving to dulcia. • Non fatis eft pulchra esse poemata, dulcia funto, ، Et quocunque volunt animum auditoris agunto.' Which I will venture thus to paraphrafe, Tis not enough that each faftidious eye The drama's faultless structure can defy; The moving tale must charm the raptured foul, And as it lift the yielding sense controul. [Β] Ψυχαγογει. See Poetic, Chap. vI. The only commentator who has given this sense to ἡδέα, is Segni. He translates it indeed PIACEVOLI; but he explains it in a note by 'elle * poffino muovere gli affetti.' See also Dacier's note on the lines of Horace that are quoted. 3 D 2 Shakespear
Shakespear apparently annexes some such idea to sweet, when he makes Jeffica say, I am never merry when I hear sweet music.'
19.4.
mvp-aristotle-comment-80
19.6
THERE IS ONE PART OF THE THEORY OF ELOCUTION RELAT- ING TO THE MODE OF EXPRESSION, WHICH PRINCIPALLY BE- LONGS TO THE PLAYER AND THE PROFESSED TEACHERS OF THAT ART; SUCH AS TO DISTINGUISH BETWEEN SUPPLICA- TION, COMMAND, NARRATION, QUESTION, ANSWER, AND ANY OTHER CIRCUMSTANCE OF THE SAME KIND.
i Li BOTH this precept, and the example by which it is illustrated, appear to me fufficiently clear. That there is no grammatical diftinction between command and fupplication, and that the distinction depends entirely on the speaker the most sacred part of our liturgy sufficiently evinces. A mark of interrogation added or omitted, will often entirely change the sense of a fentence, for an instance of which the reader is referred to the first chapter of this work [c]. As for the author's instructing the performers how to recite their works, it could only happen in the cafe of new pieces. The player of the tragedies of the three great tragic poets of Greece were as much obliged to tradition or their own ingenuity for giving the proper utterance to their fentiments, at the time Aristotle wrote, as the performers of the [C] See Note [D]. Chap. I. on the tranflation.. plays
POETIC OF ARISTOTLE. plays of Shakespear are at the present hour. I question much even if the modern players would be quite so civil to a living poet in this respect as they are to Bayes in the rehearsal, or as the French players were to Voltaire [D]. I was present at the rehearsal of the Jealous Wife, and every circumstance relating to the elocution and the action of every character was directed by Mr. Garrick without one remonftrance from Mr. Colman who was present; though Mrs. Pritchard made several, but which were all over-ruled by the manager. I do not think Mr. Twining has treated this part of the subject with his usual clearness. That by σχήμαζα λέξεως Ariftotle must mean figures or forms of speech, I most perfectly agree with him. But when he says this belongs to the art of the player, and that no blame worthy of notice can be imputed to the poet on this account; it is clearly implied, that it is not only the duty of the player to understand how the poet uses these figures of speech, but to give them their due effect in the performance, by employing the proper gestures and tones of voice. Yet though Aristotle says the blame incurred by the poet on this occafion is not of a serious essential kind, that very expression implies that some blame is incurred. And this is perfectly just. For certainly the poet ought to take care that these forms should be so marked by the sense as to leave no doubt in the mind of the actor or reader. Of this fault Shakespear has been sometimes guilty. For instance, in the celebrated line of Othello, the proper delivery of which has been fo much controverted.. [D] See Mr. Twining's Note 163. Put
Put out the light and then put out the light.' Which I believe has been finally fettled by Garrick to be thus pronounced, 'Put out the light and then.-Put out the light? • If I quench thee,' &c. There is no doubt of this being the best mode, but much I think of its being the mode intended by Shakespear [E]. The fubject of this note is well illustrated by Leffing. ' It is often,' he says, very necessary in order to comprehend the nice touches of • Terence to have the power of figuring to ourselves the action of the ، ، players, for the ancients never wrote [F] stage directions. Recitation had its peculiar artists; and as to the rest, the poets could depend on the skill and judgement of the actors who studied their employment with the most serious attention. The poets themselves were often among their number; [G] they gave directions how they would have [E] Another passage of Shakespear has been thus spoken, This my hand will rather • The multitudinous sea incarnadine, • Making the green,-ONE red.' I am surprised to see the compliment paid by Mr. Stevens to such a substitution of bombafst, for the fimple diction of Shakespear. The late Mr. Sheridan has pointed out many glaring though almost general errors in the reading of the Liturgy. For more observations on this subject, the reader is referred to Note v. Chap. xxv. [F] See Note II. Chap. XII. [G] That is, they explained their own meaning; depending on the art of the player to express that meaning to the spectators. the
POETIC OF ARISTOTLE. ' the incidents performed; and as their works were not published previoufly to the representation, before the people had an opportunity [H] • both of feeing and hearing them, they had less occafion to interrupt ⚫ the written dialogue by directions in parenthesis, through which the • author in a manner makes himself one of the perfons of the drama. But • if we imagine that the ancient poets to avoid these parentheses marked ' in the dialogue itself, every movement, every gesture, every look, every • modulation of voice that the actor should use, we are mistaken. In Terence alone there are many places in which nothing of all this ' is marked, and where, nevertheless, the true sense can only be dif- • covered by guessing at the proper action which should accompany ⚫ them. In many, even the words may appear to convey a meaning directly contrary to what the actor ought to express by his gestures.' DRAMATURGIE, Part II. page 97. [H] The same is the case now as to the priority of representation; but the printed copies are read by thousands who could not see the drama performed. CHAP.
THOUGH I cannot fee with what propriety Ariftotle begins a direction for the choice of the language of tragedy, by sending us to the spelling-book: yet as I deemed it incumbent on me as a tranflator not to omit any thing that the critic says, I shall avail myself of the opportunity he has given me to introduce some general remarks on grammar, and some that relate more peculiarly to the grammar of our own language.
20.1.
mvp-aristotle-comment-81
20.2
A VOWEL.
IT seems very extraordinary, that while every art is in a progressive state of improvement, and that our mode of expreffing clearly the meaning of language to the eye, both in writing and printing, is so much fuperior to that of the ancients from the use of stops, capital-letters, &c. that the means of painting found to the eye should continue to be so very deficient and inaccurate. If the fame character always expressed the fame vowel found, the true pronunciation of language would be as easily conveyed by writing as by speaking. But this is so far from being the cafe, that the vowel sounds marked by letters, are not only confounded with each other, but the fame vowel found when long and short, is hardly ever expreffed by the fame letter, though we have only five [A] charac- [A] I confider Y (when a vowel) and I as the fame, fince they always have the fame found in the same fituation; their diftinct use relates solely to orthography, and has no relation with orthoepy. ters
POETIC OF ARISTOTLE. ters to express all our vowel founds. For example, the short found of A, which when long is pronounced, as in BACON, MAJOR, is marked by e as in BEND, MEN. The short A as in MAN, has feldom I believe [B] a congenial long found in our language but when it is followed by two confonants, as in MASTER, TASK, BARGE. However A, as in the first instance, may be confidered beyond comparison as the most ufual long found of the vowel, either when lengthened by an E mute, as in BANE and DARE, or when independent of a succeeding confonant, (which case always makes the vowel long in English) as in BASON and MASON. Our long vowel found of 1 has no correspondent short found; but we use I to reprefent the short found of E, as DEAN, DIN. Even if we should wish to express the short colloquial found of BEEN to the eye, we must not write BEN, but BIN [C]. That our characters paint words and not founds is obvious from the directions for pronouncing the vowels prefixed to the vocabulary printed at the end of Cook's Second Voyage to the South Seas. Or if that is not at hand, the hearing a child taught to spell, (the word DIVINATION for inftance,) will be equally conclusive. The Greek diftinguished two of their long and short vowel founds E and o by different characters, while the orientals contented themselves with only three characters, A, O, and 1, to exprefs all their vowel sounds; the two last of which were also used to express one an afpiration, and [B] There are however exceptions, as FATHER, where the TH can be confidered only as one confonant. [c] This subject is treated more at large in Mitford's Essay on the Harmony of Language, Sect. III. page 32. 3 E the
the other a confonant. The different found of these vowels, and sometimes their total omiffion, when [D] very short are left to be supplied by the memory and judgment. When the Arabians under the Caliphs became a polite and learned people, they invented other marks to shew the nicer distinction of the vowel sounds where they were noticed, and to fupply them where they were not. This invention, adopted by the Jews, and afterwards sanctified by a little rabbinical mystery, and then strengthened by monkish superftition and papal authority, is the true history of those wonderful Hebrew vowel points, which have made so much noise, and created so many violent schisms in the learned world. Perhaps some contrivance of this fort would be the best mode of giving our written language the most perfect precision as to its pronunciation, without any confufion as to the etymology of words, from which our irregular orthography in a great measure arises, and which is of the utmost consequence in a language like ours, whose words are drawn from so many different fources. [D] We are not very accurate in this cafe. I think there is not a very diftinguishable difference between the first syllables of MYRTLE, HURTLE, CERTAIN.. NOTE
20.2.
mvp-aristotle-comment-82
20.3
BY ACUTENESS, GRAVITY, OR THE MEDIUM BETWEEN BOTH.
I HAVE no doubt of Mr. Twining being in the right in fuppofing that Aristotle, by ' the medium between both,' (τῷ μέσω) did not mean the circumflex. His reasoning on this is conducive. It is very obvious that in every word of more than three syllables, or even in words of three fyllables, whose first or last syllable is acuted, other fyllables are diftinguished by a stronger accent than the contiguous ones, though in a less degree than that which is peculiarly emphatic, and which regulates the accent of the others, in our language at least, and in the pronunciation which we give to Greek and Latin. There is no necessity to feek an illustration of this from the ancient languages, our own will afford sufficient examples which will have fo much more weight, as our prosody is allowed to be essentially regulated by accent, which is indeed the sole efficient cause of our verfification. It will appear from our verse, that this inferior accent has a force not only to distinguish itself in those syllables on which it is placed, but to anfwer the purpose of the strongest accent in the word as to the versification. There is no place in our heroic, or dramatic pentameter, in which ' ùn- • dertáke' would come in, that 'múltiply" would not equally do, as to the measure; though it is obvious that the principal accent is on the first fyllable in the one, and the last in the other [E]. In the burlesque [E] For the fake of perfpicuity I have diftinguished the strongest accent by the acute, and the weaker by the grave mark. 3 E 2 drama
drama of Crononhotonthologus, there is a character of the name of Äldiberòntephöfcophórnia, which is a complete verse in itself, containing one principal accent, to which I have given the acute mark; one inferior to this, but more emphatic than the rest, which has the grave mark; and three others fufficiently diftinguished from the others for the purposes of verfification, which are noticed by a double dot. This fubject has led me unawares into an investigation in which I am much interested. I mean the distinction between accent and quantity. My Greek quotations will shew my opinion on this matter to the learned reader. To him therefore I owe some reason for adopting this fide of the question, but to the mere English reader I am likewise bound not to employ too much of these notes on a subject which must be totally uninteresting to him. I shall confine myself therefore to two points only, and dispatch them both with as much brevity as possible. The arguments I use shall be drawn also from circumstances obvious to the fenfes, and appealing to them for support. The authority of antiquity, produced by Dr. Foster in his Essay on Greek Accent, and enforced and illustrated by Mr. Mitford in his Effay on the Harmony of Language, are and always must remain unanswered, because they are unanswerable. First then, the authenticity of the Greek accentual marks have been proved beyond controversy by the abovementioned treatises; but the pronunciation of them, as it is managed by modern voices, destroys that cadence to which modern ears are accustomed (F). In confequence of this [F] Some persons I know talk of marking both accent and quantity in Greek verse.. I pretend to no such power, but I am far from faying fuch a power did not exift among the Greeks. they
POETIC OF ARISTOTLE. they have been disused, and few Greek scholars from such disuse being able to write them accurately, it became necessary to get rid of them at any rate, and this was done by explaining away their utility when their authority was shewn to be unquestionable. They were to fignify mufical notation, tones unknown to the irreligious ears of the moderns; in short any thing but what we call accent. But if these kind of musical notes accompanied the common pronunciation of the Greek language ; if, as is suggested by Lord Monboddo in his letter on this subject to Mr. Steel, In Greek a man raised his voice upon certain fyllables and no other, whether he was speaking with paffion or without paffion, • whether he was haranguing or in ordinary conversation;' if this were the cafe, the most perfect language we know must have been totally deprived of the power on which the force of poetry and oratory moft essentially depends, that of exciting of the feelings of the hearer by congenial modulations of the speaker's voice. And if the ancients by προσωδία and ACCENTUS did not mean what we call accent, which is fo general a property of language, and so distinct from quantity, what word had they to express this property ? for we cannot suppose their languages were without it. This dificulty Dr. Beattie and Mr. Nares have tried to obviate by calling our accent EMPHASIS. But this is substituting the effect of a thing for the thing itself. A man in a red coat is eminently confpicuous among others in black or white, therefore one of the qualities of redness is confpicuity, but redness is not confpicuity itself, because there are other colors that are also comparatively confpicuous. So we know it is one of the properties of accent to make the syllable on which it falls emphatic, or confpicuous; but this property is not peculiar to accent, for, as will be shewn presently, there are cafes in which accent cannot
cannot be so employed, and then quantity produces the same effect. Among monosyllables if it be necessary to make one word emphatic, or confpicuous, it is done by accent, and sometimes with the addition of quantity, or rather the emphatic accent changes the short vowel found to a long one, when the voice is not stopped by a confonant. As in Milton. Know ye not ME? ye knew me once, no mate For you, there fitting where YE durft not foar.' Here in the first line, ME in the former part of the verse is emphatical, and supplies the place of an accented syllable where the verse requires one: the second ME is not emphatical, and is placed where the verse does not require an accent [G]; the vowel found of the first is long also and the second short. In the second line the pronoun ve is emphatical, but the natural vowel found of it is so short as not to be capable of the accent without altering its quantity, which is accordingly done, and the E lengthened, but without altering the accent as far as regards the structure of the verse. When it is required to make a particular fyllable [G] From this circumstance of the ductility of the accent, which is the essence of our verfification, our poets have the power sometimes of regulating the proper expreffion of the thought by the cadence; an advantage denied the ancients from the inflexibility of quantity in Greek and Latin. Of this the first line of the quotation from Milton is an example. A paffage in Thomson's Tancred and Sigifmunda will shew this more strongly from oppofition.
، I will give This scatter'd will in fragment to the winds, • Crush all who dare oppose me to the duft, And heap perdition on THEE.' Here the reciter is under the necessity of either spoiling the sense, or the verse. of
POETIC OF ARISTOTLE. ! of a word of more syllables than one confpicuous, or emphatic, which is not accented, it is never allowed to alter the accent, therefore this is a cafe when quantity must be employed. This I shall illustrate by two examples from Pope. • Curl'd or Uncurl'd fince locks will turn to grey.' The syllable UN is still confidered as unaccented in the verse, and is only made confpicuous by the quantity, not by lengthening the vowel found of u, for that the connected confonant forbids, but by marking more strongly the two following subsequent confonants by dividing them, and so rendering the length of the fyllable by [H] position more confpi- In this line from Pope's Iliad the length of the vowel is altered. • Turns and Returns him with a mother's care.' cuous. The affair of the accentual marks however, after all that has been faid and proved in their favour, has been finally decided as things of much greater consequence are often decided, by the majority of votes; their pronunciation and even their notation, where detached pieces of
[H] In scanning ancient verse it is usual to say a vowel is long by position, but this is not correct, it is the syllable not the vowel that is lengthened. For as Mr. Mitford justly obferves, • Ten confonants would not oblige even a Greek or Roman voice to give to a pre- ⚫ ceding epfilon or omicron the found of eta and omega, but two consonants distinctly pro- • nounced will necessarily retard any voice in pronouncing the syllable.' ESSAY ON THE Harmony of Language, Sect. IV. p. 55. Double confonants we pronounce as fingle, and the only effect they have is shortening the preceding vowel found, as Holy Holly, WRITING WRITTEN, and as we carry the fame pronunciation into the learned language, as in καλος καλλος, FERO FERRE, we always in this cafe make a false quantity. The ancients I suppose pronounced these double consonants diftinctly like the modern Italians, which perhaps requires a greater delay of the voice than to diftinguish between two different confonants. Greek
Greek are quoted, are entirely disused; and this leads me to the second observation I proposed to make, which I shall introduce by this question. What have we substituted in their place? How do we now read Greek ? I know the answer, and it will not be given without a contemptuous sneer at the ignorance of the querift and the abfurdity of the query. According to quantity to be sure! the only essential constituent of the structure of ancient verfification, and on which its cadence entirely depends. But let us enquire first what reading by quantity is, and if we really do it either in Greek or Latin verse. Do we mean by quantity what it only can properly mean, giving length to the syllables that are really long? (In fyllables long by position we cannot err if we pronounce all the confonants distinctly,) or do we mean giving the acute accent to all long syllables? Now let us try this on the two first verses of the Iliad. Do not we give the found of the eta to the epfilon in Θεα, and do not we lay the accent also on the same short vowel in this word, and in the omicron in Ουλομενην ? The fame in the first line of Virgil's Eclogues. Do we not pronounce the first fyllable of Tityrus as short as it is possible for a fyllable to be pronounced? and do we not accent the first syllable of PATULE ? Therefore if either of the abovementioned modes of reading be reading by quantity we follow neither of them, and if neither of these be what we mean by reading by quantity, I should like to know what is. But though I do not know what reading by quantity is if it is not marking the true time of every fyllable by the voice, I perfectly know what we substitute for the pronunciation of Greek according to the accentual marks, and CALL reading by quantity. It is in fact reading Greek according to rules of Latin accentuation, which naturally produces the fame cadence that we find in Latin verse, depending entirely
POETIC OF ARISTOTLE. tirely on accent; for though our judgment revolts at a false quantity our ear is much more offended by a misplaced accent, and the cadence of the verse is much more hurt by it [1]. That the rules of Greek and Latin accentuation were different we know from the authority of Quintillian. One of the canons of Latin accentuation is, that the accent of the penult in all polysyllables depends on its quantity; and I challenge any, the most partial advocate for the modern mode of reading Greek, to fhew me any other reason for laying the accent on the omicron instead of the epsilon, as directed by the accentual mark in the first word of the second verse of the Iliad. It does not even mend the accentual cadence of the verse, for in two lines that follow each other in Virgil's first eclogue,
' Ilius aram Sæpě těnēr noftris ab ovilibus imbuit agnum. • Illě měās errare boves ut cernis, &c.' The four first syllables are exactly, both in accent, quantity, and usual. pronunciation, like Ουλομένην, pronounced according to the Greek accentual mark. Whence this mode of reading Greek has been called. by way of eminence, and in oppofition to the other, reading by quantity, it is perhaps not very difficult to discover. The whole system of. Latin [1] To those critics who are not satisfied of the truth of the accentual cadence of Latin verse being different from the quantity, I would recommend it first to read, and then scan any line of Virgil they chuse. This must convince their ear, but if they chuse authority rather than the teftimony of their senses, I would advise them to read the conclufion of the eighth chapter of Dr. Foster's Treatise on Accent and Quantity, and especially the postscript to it; Mr. Harris's Philological Enquiries, Part 11. Chap. II. and Col. Mitford's Essay, Sect. vI. See also Note Iv. Chap. xxiv. of this commentary.. 3 F accentuation
accentuation in every polysyllable depends on the quantity of the penult. Dissyllables have always the first syllable accented, whether long or short; and all the other accents of polysyllables, which are always on alternate fyllables, depend on the accent, and confequently on the quantity of the penult. Therefore when we hear an error in the accent of this fyllable, as it is the (K) only place where an erroneous quantity is marked in pronunciation, we directly censure the speaker for making a false quantity, and for this reason when we carry this mode of regulating the accent into another language, we use the fame expreffion, and call it reading or pronouncing according to quantity. We can know nothing of the genuine pronunciation of ancient verse but from conjecture. I should imagine quantity was more marked, and accent less, in Greek than in Latin verse. How this was done we can no more judge than an Englishman who had learned to read and pronounced Italian like English could judge how it would found from the mouth of a Tuscan. We must suppose Greek verse to be the natural poetic language of the country, and in this case quantity, the constituent of it, must have been strongly marked by the voice, and that, as in English and Italian verse, scanning was only an exaggerated expreffion of its real cadence. But this might not be the cafe with the Romans, who borrowed their rules of profody from the Greeks. They might like the modern writers of Latin verse, while they regulated the quantity by the judgment, produce also an accentual modulation by the ear. When I fee such a poet as Virgil uniformly employing what I know from classical authority to be [K] Were I to say SIDERIS instead of SIDERIS, I should be immediately accused of a false quantity, but not at all for giving the first syllable one of the shortest possible founds and no accent, inftead of the proper long vowel and the strong accent, by which it is diftinguished in the nominative cafe SIDUS. the
POETIC OF ARISTOTLE. ، the genuine accentuation of his language, to produce a most delightful cadence, independent of the quantity, to which however he rigidly adheres, I cannot conceive it to be only accident, but that such accentual cadence must have been even essential to the beauty of the verse, especially as we find from the passage in the Philological Enquiries above cited (Note K) that when Latin began to be corrupted more attention was paid to this accentual cadence than to quantity. And does not this receive some support from the expression of Cicero quoted by Mr. Twining (note 5) that the poet was RATHER more confined by numbers than the ora- ' tor.' • Numeris adftrictior PAULO.' I certainly do not mean to infinuate that the quantity of fyllables was not fufficiently obvious to the ears of the Romans; they certainly did not, like us, pronounce the first syllable of VELIM long, or of VELLEM short, but that the verfification of Latin depended more on accentual cadence than that of Greek, may I think be traced in the corruption of both. When quantity. ceased to regulate Latin verse it still retained the accentual modification as the foundation of its cadence, as will appear from the lines of Commodianus, quoted Note 111. Chap. xxII. But when the fame thing happened to the Greek verse it entirely changed its form of verfification, and adopted a new and barbarous cadence, which was regulated by the accentual marks, as in the Chiliad of Tzetzes. See PHILOLOGICAL INQUIRIES, Part 11. Chap. 11. That the cadence of Greek verse depended so much, (not on Latin accentuation surely) but on the strict attention to quantity, as in the recital almost to fink the power of the accents which was forcibly marked in the delivery of prose, is obvious from a passage quoted from another work of Ariftotle in Note VIII.. Chap. xxv.. 3: F 2 I will
I will now release my reader from a subject which, however interesting to myself, may be little so to him. Those to whom it is interesting I congratulate on a prospect at least of the fubject being resumed, and treated of more at large than it has been already, by Col. Mitford.
20.3.
mvp-aristotle-comment-83
20.7
AN ARTICLE IS AN UNMEANING SOUND WHICH MARKS THE BEGINNING, THE END, OR SOME PARTICULAR DISTINCTION OF A SENTENCE.
HOW an article can be said to mark the end of a fentence, is I own beyond my comprehenfion. By the distinction of a sentence I imagine Aristotle means such words or phrafes as are diftinguished by an article, and by that distinction feparated from the rest of the difscourse, and in fact made substantives; as when we say, the conjunction AND,' ' the article THE.' In this power 'the Latin, for want of an article, is greatly deficient; and the critical writers in that language are sometimes obliged to have recourse to the Greek article; as for inftance Goulston, in his paraphrase of a sentence in this treatise, uses rò prius, and τὸ pofterius. By means of the article in English a whole sentence is frequently made a substantive, as sometimes also a single gerund is. I say sometimes; as what Dr. Lowth has observed in his grammar, (p. 140) on the gerund being always a substantive when the article THE is prefixed to it, and requiring to be followed by the genitive cafe, I can by no means affent to. In some instances it certainly is so, but in nine out of
POETIC OF ARISTOTLE. of ten, when the article is prefixed, it is because the whole sentence, and not the gerund only, is the substantive. For instance, in the example in Lilly's Grammar of a fentence being the nominative case to a verb.
Ingenuas didiciffe fideliter artes • Emollit mores, nec finit esse feros.' If we translate as we may [L], • The having learned the liberal arts,' furely were we to alter the tense of the infinitive from the preterite to the present, we should retain the same general sense and say, 'The learning ' the liberal arts,' not • The learning of the liberal arts.' The gerund seems never to be properly a substantive but when the noun that it governs would be its nominative case if it continued a verb. To explain myself more clearly, were I to say, suppose speaking of a court of justice, such a thing happened before the swearing the evidence, meaning previous to the clerk of the court's adminiftering the oath, SWEARING is a gerund governing EVIDENCE, and THE makes a fubstantive of the whole sentence. But were I to say, before the swearing of the evidence,' I should conceive EVIDENCE as the governing cafe of the verb, which would not then be transative but neuter, and express the act of the evidence and not of the officer of the court, and in this case it would indeed be a substantive. In such expreffions as • the crowing of a cock,'' the neighing of a • horse,' the gerunds are compleatly changed into substantives, and as such will admit a plural. [L] There is no doubt but in this as in several other of the instances, the article may be more elegantly omitted, but it is equally clear that it may also be prefixed, and in some cafes - must be prefixed, which is quite sufficient for the purpose. • Steed
• Steed answers steed in high and boastful neighings.' Or the English genitive, as a horse's neighing. But whether I say ' eating bread,' or 'the eating of bread,' ' EATING' will neither admit the plural, nor the English genitive. The flying a kite' is the diversion of a boy or the experiment of an electrician. • The flying of a kite' is the motion of the machine, or the action of the bird from which it is named. • The carving a door' is the act of the artist; ' the carving of a door' the object of that act compleated. Another proof that the word still continues a gerund without assuming any of the characters of a substantive is the necessity of its being followed by an infinitive, and its incapacity to govern another gerund. We cannot say' the defiring of feeing' as we might the ' defire of feeing, we must say ' the defiring to see.' That the fentence and not the gerund is to be confidered as the fubstantive, will be further proved from instances where the gerund is preceded by a noun in the English genitive case, or a pronoun possessive, which equally with the article mark one or other of them to be a fubftantive. • Peter's denying Christ, would any correct writer say' of • Chrift?' • My reading a passage of Ariftotle;' Would you say' of a passage of Ariftotle ?" if you do you change the sense. Reading will indeed be a substantive, but will fignify some alteration affecting the fenfe, and not the pronunciation of the words.. Dr. Lowth mentions the use of CONTINUAL and CONTINUALLY, the adjective and adverb as a criterion in this cafe. By that criterion. I am
POETIC OF ARISTOTLE. am content that my hypothefis shall be tried. If the gerund can poffibly be connected with an adjective, I give up my cause. • He is continu- ، ally teaching Paul.' Is 'the continually teaching Paul laudable ?' Here the article is necessarily prefixed in the last member of the sentence; but it is said if THE is prefixed of must follow. Then must we fay • the continually teaching of Paul?' If we do the sense is entirely changed; of ceases to be a fign of the genitive case, and becomes a prepofition, and would be rendered in Latin by ' de Paulo,' concerning, about Paul. If the adverb CONTINUALLY is made an adjective, and we say' the continual teaching of Paul,' TEACHING will undoubtedly be a substantive, but Paul will be the teacher. Instead of • the soundly beating a man,' could we say the found beating of a • man? Or to take Dr. Lowth's own example, instead of by well • observing which,' could we say, ' by the good observing of which ?' for directly gaining wisdom,' could we say, • the direct gaining of • wisdom?' for ' easily supplying our wants,'' the easy supplying of our wants?' for ' quietly enjoying,'' the quiet enjoying?' It must be observed this is marked most strongly when WELL and Good are the examples, as in other cafes the adjective and adverb are sometimes confounded by incorrect speakers. I must however allow that the gerund, confidered merely as such, may sometimes be followed by a genitive case on the authority of the Latin, whose grammar in doubtful cases is generally allowed to be decifive as to our own. For example: ‘Aliquid fuit principium generandi ← animalium.' VARRO. • Fuit exemplorum legendi potestas.' CICERO. • Vestri adhortdi causa.' TACITUS. !.. • Generandi gloria mellis.' VIRGIL. NOTE
20.4.
mvp-aristotle-comment-84
20.8
IN NAMES COMPOSED OF TWO WORDS WE NEVER CONCEIVE EITHER OF THE PARTS TAKEN SEPARATELY TO HAVE ANY MEANING.
THE same observation is just as to common nouns or names of things as well as persons if they are either of foreign or obsolete derivation [M]. And fometimes even if the words are compounded of terms in general use. This is well illustrated in Mr. Jackson's Letters. ، Perhaps,' (he says)' it may be imagined that those words which carry their fignification with them should be most expreffive, whether long or short; that is when they are compounded of known words which express that fignification. But this is not so; when we say " adieu," " farewell," we mean no more than a ceremony at parting. No one < confiders " adieu" as a recommendation to God, or "farewell" as a wish for happiness. Frequent use destroys all idea of derivation; • but if we speak a compound or self-fignificant word that is not common, we perceive the derivation of it. Thus if a Londoner says " butter-milk," he has an idea of something composed of " butter" " and " milk," but to an Irishman or Hollander it is as fimple an idea. as either of the words taken separately is to us.' LETTER III. [M] See for example what is said of Curfew, Note IV. Chap. XIV. NOTE
20.5.
mvp-aristotle-comment-85
20.9
A CASE IS INCIDENT BOTH TO THE NOUN AND THE VERB.
AS much of the elegance and peculiarity of speech depends on the inflection of verbs, and as most languages in this respect deviate at times from what may be called the rules of universal grammar, I shall venture briefly to mention a few cursory observations that I have made on this point in the course of my reading. Dr. Lowth has mentioned the confufion frequently made even by good writers, of the participle and preterite of such verbs as form the participle in En, as 'wrote,' ' written,' ' rode,' ' ridden;' which has indeed been more carefully avoided, even in conversation by those who are tolerably accurate, since his admonition. But he has either overlooked, or neglected to mention the distinction custom has made as to the impropriety of using the preterite for the participle, in the different circumstance of its being connected with the auxiliary verb ' to have,' ' to be,' or being connected with a substantive as a verbal adjective. 'It is wrote' seems to convey a more ungrammatical found to the ear than ' I have ' wrote;' but no person whatever would say, ' wrote language' for • written language.' This appears even in cafes where the proper participle, as used with the auxiliary verbs, is nearly obsolete. It might favour a little of pedantry to say, in common conversation, ' I have beaten him,' ' I have • eaten it; but we always say 'weather-beaten,'' moth-eaten.' 3 G The
The two auxiliary verbs, ' shall' and 'will, which constitute the future tense in English, are perpetually confounded not only by foreigners, but by the Scotch and Irish. The proper fimple future is this, ' I shall,' 'Thou wilt,' or 'You will,' 'He will,' 'We shall,' 'You, or Ye ' will,'' They will.' Were I to say ' I will go,' or • You shall go,' it is no longer the simple future, but speaks determination in one instance, and command or compulfion in the other. What a difference between these expreffions, • I shall not succeed in this but you will,' and I will not fucceed in this but you shall.' The last part is nonsense, fince the verb 'fucceed' being accidental requires only the simple future; but for 'fucceed,' substitute ' attempt,' which is in the power of the agent, the fimple future will be the fame; but change the signs, say ' I will not attempt this, you shall ; and determination on one part, and command on the other are clearly expressed. On this principle it is that our neighbours often raise a laugh at their own expence, by telling us they will break their necks, and that their friends shall win a rubber at whift. It feems very wonderful that two languages so very different, and in all apparent circumstances fo entirely unconnected as the English and modern Greek, should unite in the fingular circumstance of using the verb ' I will' for a fign of the future tenfe, the latter ufing θέλω for this purpose. A fanciful writer might perhaps be tempted to impute this corruption of the Greek tongue to the conversation of the Barangi, a body of English guards, to whom the particular defence of the Grecian Emperor's person was entrusted, and who preferved the use of their native language to the last age of the empire [o]. [o] See a quotation from Codinus in Note 48, on Chap. LV. of Mr. Gibbon's History. Πολυχρονιζᾶσι ὁι Βάραγγοι καλὰ τῶν παλρίον γλῶσσαν ἀνθῶν, ἡτὸι Ιγκληνισὶ. There
POETIC OF ARISTOTLE. There is a distinction in the passive voice of the ancient languages to which all the modern ones I have any knowledge of are strangers, I mean the perfect and imperfect present, AMATUS SUM and AMOR. This is observed by the later editor of Lilly's grammar; but AMO being the example it is not so clear, it not being very easy in that verb to mark the distinction, though by accurate investigation it may be traced. AMOR means simply, that at the present time I am beloved; AMATUS SUM has in this verb a kind of retrospect. It is the word Prior's Henry would have used to express his situation. • When industry and time, (the mighty two • That bring our wishes nearer to our view,) • Made him perceive that the inclining fair • Received his vows with no reluctant ear.'- The distinction is more obvious in DOCEOR, which means ' I am now learning,' or ' in the act of being taught; whereas DOCTUS SUM fignifies the completion of my purpose, ' I am instructed.' The same advantage that the Latin has over the English in the passive, the English in its turn has over the Latin in the active voice, from using the auxiliary, 'I am,' with the participle, ' I think, I am thinking.' In verbs deponent in Latin, the active voice has also the same advantage and from the same cause. There is an anomaly in the Italian verb substantive exactly resembling the Latin deponent. It is conjugated by itself, assuming, as an auxiliary, the power of TO HAVE, SONO STATO, 'I have been.' The cause appears to be this. The Latin verb sum having nothing like the 3G 2 paffive
paffive participle, its derivative the Italian borrowed one for the verb STARE; and SONO STATO literally means ' I AM PLACED.' There is a remarkable nicety in Spanish between SER and ESTAR, the first always fignifying only fimple essence; as for instance, SER QUATRO LUGARES DI LONDRA, would not signify being four leagues distant from London; but being actually the four leagues, the proper verb here iS ESTAR. In fome languages, the Hebrew for instance, the genders of the perfons are fignified by the termination of the verb itself. At first sight this may appear an advantage, but in fact it is a defect, for it often enforces difcrimination where difcrimination cannot be really made. What happens from this to the Hebrew in all its persons, happens to the French, Italian, and Spanish in the third person of both numbers, from the use of the pronoun. Here Greek and Latin have manifeftly the advantage, as where discrimination is necessary they can employ the pronoun or nominative cafe, or otherwise, omit them. In the fingular pronoun the English is in the fame cafe with the other modern languages; and we feel an inconvenience when we wish to mention a circumstance relating to a person, whose sex we either do not know or wish to conceal; and we must either use a periphrafis, or have recourse to the colloquial barbarism of substituting the third person plural, ' They.' CHAP.
21.1.
mvp-aristotle-comment-86
21.2
DITHYRAMBIC POETS.
Μεγαλιώῶν. For my reason for rendering this inexplicable word as I have, the reader is referred to the note on the translation. Another conjectural emendation suggested by a learned friend, is to read Μεγαλε- σιῶν. The Megalesian Games at Rome were confecrated to Cybele, and first introduced there during the second Punic war; they are mentioned by Livy, Tully, Ovid and Juvenal. None of the Grecian festivals mentioned by Potter are of this name, but it is obviously of Greek derivation. Livy derives it from μεγάλης μηρός, ‘The great mother.' My friend, with great probability, supposes it compounded of μεγάλα. great,' and σεῖω ' to shake,' an etymology perfectly confonant with the noisy rites by which the mother of the gods was celebrated, and with which the works of the Dithyrambic poets, and their high founding expressions would be perfectly congenial [A]. The word in question, Hermocaicoxanthus, is evidently composed of the names of three rivers of Afia minor, the Hermus, the Caicus, and the Xanthus. [Α] Κορυβαντίασειν μοὶ δοκῶ περιβομβέμενος ὑφ᾽ ὧν καλεσκέδασάς μου᾿ ονομάτων. LEXIPHANES.. NOTE
21.2.
mvp-aristotle-comment-87
21.4
NOUNS ARE EITHER PROPER OR FOREIGN, OR METAPHORICAL, OR ORNAMENTAL, OR INVENTED FOR THE PURPOSE, OR LENGTHENED, OR SHORTENED, OR CHANGED.
BY PROPER, Aristotle means words used in their common acceptation, as in plain conversation, in contradistinction to all the other modes he has mentioned, and not to the γλῶττα or foreign word only; though in his first example he opposes these to each other for the obvious reason he gives, of the saine word partaking of both qualities, though with respect to different persons. This fort of foreign words introduced into poetry, did not resemble the ridiculous practice of those travelled coxcombs who are continually larding their conversation with French and Italian phrafes; but, as is observed in the note on the tranflation, related only to the different dialects of Greece. We have nothing that resembles this so much as the introduction of such Scottish words as BOURN, EYNE, &c. which, to an English ear, has a very agreeable effect, and gives a kind of Doric fimplicity to the lower kind of paftoral poetry. But this to a Scotchman has the fame effect as our own provincial language would have to an Englishman. This however will in no case suit the higher walks of the drama and epopee. Had Scotland continued a separate kingdom the two dialects might have been distinct and of equal dignity, and have given our poets this source of variety. See BEATTIE ON LUDICROUS COMPOSITION, Chap. 11. near the end. The
POETIC OF ARISTOTLE. The use of Metaphors is so frequent in common conversation as hardly to require explanation; such expreffions as a cool reasoner,' ' a warm debater,' are examples. Sometimes even a word is more common in its metaphorical than its proper sense, as for instance, to RUMINATE. By a fingular chance this word, though of no dignity in its figurative sense, acquires dignity in its proper sense, and is a perfect instance of the use of foreign words in elevating the style of poetry; as in Milton,
• Others fill'd with pasture gazing fat • Or bedward RUMINATING.' The example taken from Homer, of a ship to illustrate the transfer of a word from genus to species is sufficiently plain. We say commonly a ship lies at anchor from the quiet situation she is in when at anchor, which may be termed a species of lying still compared to the agitation of a voyage. The example of the change from species to genus (fee the tranflation) is equally clear and still in common use, though we usually employ the modefter term of a thousand; the Romans still more moderate, contented themselves with fix hundred. On the same principle the abfent lover counts his hours by centuries. As for the transfer from species to species, however comfortably obscure the Greek examples are, I think the sense of the precept is sufficiently clear; it means, I conceive, the transfer of a figurative expression usually connected with one word, to another word to which it is not usually applied, though the meaning of it is the fame. I esteem Castlevetro's example perfectly just; and agree with Mr. Twining in thinking any man who chuses MAY speak so, though I do not think it would be often advisable for him to avail himself of this liberty. I do not quote the Italian critic as our own learned countryman Martinus Scriblerius
Scriblerius has furnished us with examples in his account of the figure Catachrefis, a master of which he tells us will say, Mow the beard, Shave the field, Pin the plank, Nail my fleeve. In ludicrous composition this figure is of great use. The humour of low comedy and farce frequently depends on it. The failor applies his fea-terms to all the objects of common life, the gardener talks of the first row of a regiment, and the foldier of a front rank of French-beans. But this figure is not entirely banished from more serious compofition. The pensive poet wanders O'er the dry smooth-SHAVEN green,' and the hero of romance Mows down squadrons with his enchanted sword. This figure is sometimes used in common speech, as when we fay a warrior is PRODIGAL OF LIFE, or a spendthrift BLEEDS FREELY. It must be allowed this mode of arranging figures comes so near the next, and the examples seem so applicable to both, that I am not able well to diftinguish them. The particular inftance given by Aristotle of the transfer of metaphor by analogy is very clear. Calling Beauty the arms of Venus, and Arms the ornament of Mars, exhibits a more familiar example. In regard to calling a shield the cup of Mars, I must differ TOTO COELO from Piccolomini, who thinks the resemblance of the two things as to form,
POETIC OF ARISTOTLE. form, can have any possible connection with the metaphor, and that it would be spoiled if lance were substituted for shield [B], because the form of the Greek φιάλη, or cup, bore some resemblance to a shield. This might have been the cafe with a poet who composed, as the Laputan philosopher proposed to converse, by things instead of words. But surely to one who uses the arbitrary symbols of things to express his thoughts instead of things themselves, resemblance of effect rather than resemblance of shape is the source of metaphor, and on this principle I should think the cup of Bacchus bore more analogy to an offenfive than a defenfive weapon. I never heard the metaphor in the second ode of Anacreon, where he makes female beauty serve both as a fword and a shield, blamed on this principle; but I never could fancy any resemblance, as to form, between a handsome woman and either of those instruments [c]. Calling a shield' the wineless cup of Mars' is termed by Harles [D], ' a most daring metaphor.' Perhaps it will hardly seem so, if we take a more common instance, and call love the bloodless war of Venus.. Of the ornamented word mentioned by Aristotle he takes no further notice. Metastasio supposes it explained in that paragraph of the Epistle. to the Pisos which begins, • Non ego inornata et dominantia verba folum,' &c. [B] See Twining, Note 185. [c] In some cases however too great a natural dissimilitude between the objects has a bad effect. See Note VII. Chap. xxi. [D] See Note on the translation.. 3 Η΄ But
But whoever reads that whole passage must be convinced, that if inornata there is opposed to κόσμος here, κόσμος must comprehend every other species of ornament of which language is capable; all of which he has here claffed with it, as being different modifications of exception to (κύρια), words in their proper and common form. Aristotle also at the end of the next chapter, again distinguishes κόσμος in this manner. He says such words are most calculated for Iambic verse as are most fit for common discourse of which it is an imitation, viz. the proper, the metaphorical, and the ornamented. Though from this we do not see what the critic meant by κόσμος, we fee clearly that he did not mean by it either an assemblage of all the other ornaments of language, or any elevation or change of style much over-topping the modesty of common difcourse. Invented words can never be supposed to fignify any arbitrary name that the poet may chuse to impose, but a name whose signification must, from derivation or fome other cause, be sufficiently expressive of the fense it is intended to convey. Such, for instance, as courser for horse. Of lengthened names the Italian has many; but [E] Metastasio observes they cannot be introduced into serious works: in English poetry they are not uncommon; we use ' devoid' for 'void,' ' distain' for ' stain;' and Milton puts ' eremite' for ' hermit,' adding one fyllable and lengthening a vowel. We also shorten words in verse, as 'morn,' ' eve,' ' mead.' Indeed all ellisions of vowels properly fall under this description. There are other figures of speech not mentioned by the critic here, but which modern critics are full of, and which seem indeed, in fact, to [B] Estrutto della Poetica, page 333be,
POETIC OF ARISTOTLE. be, what Mr. [F] Spence calls, peccadillos against grammar; but which the blind admirers of the ancients first give Greek names to, and then call figures of rhetoric. On this principle all the errors against grammatical precision [G] which are pointed out even in our best writers, may be converted into beauties. Quintilian was however of a different opinion. (H) ‘Every form will • become a fault if it is not produced by choice but by accident, though it is often defended by authority, by time, and by custom.' [F] See Essay on the Odyssey, p. 117. [G] Masclef in his Hebrew Grammar, Chap. XXII. points out 102 instances of words of an anomalous form in the Hebrew Bible. Of these, from Dr. Kennicott's collation of Mss. 78 appear to be errors of the tranfcribers or printers. [H] Effet enim omne schema vitium fi non peteretur sed acciderit; verum auctoritate, ve tuftate, confuetudine, plerumque defenditur. 3 H 2 CHAP.
22.1.
mvp-aristotle-comment-88
22.2
LANGUAGE WILL HAVE MORE DIGNITY AND BE FURTHER RE- MOVED FROM THE VULGAR IDIOM, BY THE USE OF UNCOM- MON WORDS.
THE truth of this, as applicable to the Italian language, is very well illustrated by M. Maffei, in his defence of his tragedy of Merope against the criticisms of Voltaire, in which he shews the poverty of the French language in this respect. Voltaire had objected to Maffei, that in his tragedy, Merope to poftpone the nuptials which were haftened by the tyrant, orders a servant to inform him, that the queen had had a fever all night.* Maffei adds, To shew how fuch passages would displease at Paris, he ⚫ translates this into French; and in truth so tranflated, they have not a good effect: but this mode of confronting the tragedies deserves to be • confidered. The Italian says, ، [A] "Tis useless to disguise the mournful truth, "A fcorching fever wars against her life." But the Frenchman says only, (B) " It is impossible to conceal from you that the queen has a fever." We may see here the difference between the verse of a nation which besides the language of prose pof- [A] ' Diffimulato in vano soffre di febro afsalto.' [B] ' On ne peut vous cacher que la reine a la fievre.' • seffes
POETIC OF ARISTOTLE. • sesses also a poetical language. In ours even trivial and domeftic • circumstances may be mentioned with dignity and poetically, but turn ⚫ them into prose and they instantly become common. Your verse has • exactly the same force as if I faid in Italian, "The queen has a fever," ⚫ and a verse that began so would certainly occafion much laughter; but • when the sense is expressed as in the Italian, the transposition of the ⚫ words and the metaphor create poetry, and render the language noble to our ears, because it is very remote from vulgar speech and yet not extravagant; and by these means we are able to give ornament to every thing.' Our Shakespear has been criticized with exactly the same candour that Maffei complains of.
22.2.
mvp-aristotle-comment-89
22.4
THE ELDER EUCLIDES.
MOST likely called so by Aristotle to distinguish him from a perfon of the fame name, who was a follower of Socrates and head of a fect of philosophers [c]. It is surprizing that the English translators should have rendered Ευκλείδης ὁ αρχᾶιος, Euclides ille antiquus, 'Old Euclid.' In the first place 'old,' applied to a man, signifies age, not antiquity; and without the article, as indeed is the fact with most adjectives except in the vocative cafe, conveys the idea of jocular familiarity. Who for the elder Brutus [c] See Fabricius. would
CHAP. XXIT. would fay, Old Brutus? Were we to express the father of the Horatii by the name of Old Horace, we should immediately think of the Roman poet. We know the French, from the partiality they have for their own language, mutilate all the harmonious names of antiquity, a practice which we at first adopted but have now totally laid aside. In consequence however of its having been once adopted by us, the most familiar of the Roman names, and some few of the Greek names, have among us this pronunciation. But these are confined to the perfons themselves, and not given to others of a fimilar name. We call none of the Horatii Horace but the poet, and none of the Tullii Tully except the orator. Aristotle and Euclid are two of the most early familiar Greek names, and in consequence of it retain this disgraceful distinction; and when we meet them thus mutilated we expect to find the fathers of logic and the mathematics. As all affectation is ridiculous, I should think it pedantic to call this work a translation of the Poetic of Ariftoteles; but in a tranflation of Pindar's fifth Pythian Ode, I would not translate the Αρισοζέλης mentioned there, by the Anglo-Greek name of Aristotle. There is something so completely merry-andrewish in the appellation we give to the celebrated triumvir, especially when mixed with Roman names, that were I writing history I should be induced to reftore him to the name of Marcus Antonius. In this work I have been obliged to retain those CHRISTIAN NAMES by which Shakespear and Dryden have mentioned him. NOTE
22.3.
mvp-aristotle-comment-90
22.5
MAKING IAMBIC VERSE EVEN IN COMMON DISCOURSE.
I CANNOT think the word ἰαμβοποιήσας can by any means be twisted into the general sense of, ridiculing, which many of the translators give it. For the reason which induced me to render it as I have, I refer to the note on the tranflation. I however must confess the examples are, by a little vitiation of quantity, much more easily susceptible of the cadence of hexameters than of iambics. Indeed they very much resemble the barbarous attempts at heroic verse, by Commodianus at the decline Of Roman poetry, quoted by Mr. Harris in his Philological Enquiries, Part 11. Chap. 11. Tōt rěŭm criminibus părricīdūm quoque fŭtūrum Ex aŭctorītātē vēstrā contulīstis in illum. The profodical marks shew what Mr. Harris imagined to be the intended quantities. But I rather think the writer's ear was directed by the [D] accentual cadence without any regard to quantity at all. Perhaps Aristotle had no iambic examples to quote, and the others being familiar, the διον may imply, • as in these spurious hexameters.' [D] See Note II. Chap. xx. NOTE
22.4.
mvp-aristotle-comment-91
22.6
AN ABSURD AND RIDICULOUS USE OF METAPHORS, FOREIGN WORDS, AND OTHER FORMS, WOULD HAVE THE SAME EFFECT.
THE obfervation of Aristotle as to the effect of all these ornamented expreffions, and how much the propriety of the most elevated style depends on a temperate use of them, is obviously just and perfectly capable of illustration from our own writers of every description. There is no part of elocution which requires greater skill in the poet than the proper management of figures, and to steer between too ornamented and too simple a style; chusing one that shall be perfpicuous without meanness, and elevated without being either turgid or obscure. Nor can any criterion be found for this, except the judgement and taste of the writer, fince what in one species of writing would be simple might be mean in another; and that dignity of expression which may be only adequate to one fubject might be truly ridiculous when applied to a different one [E]. It must be remembered that two sources of the burlesque arise from this impropriety carried to excess, either by making heroes and demi-gods talk in the language of common life, or making mean persons talk in the language of heroes and demi-gods. [E] The modern writers of Latin run strongly into this. If a phrase is classical they are apt to think it fufficient without at all regarding its application to the subject, and will criticise a grammatical passage in all the flowers of eloquence. A curious instance of this occurs in Leusden's Philologus Hebræo-Græcus. Speaking of the scarceness of the copies of the Hebrew New Testament, he says, Vix caressimo pretio comparari poffunt num plerumque in nuper incendio Londiniensi sunt Vulcano tradita.' To
POETIC OF ARISTOTLE. To know whether a word is proper for an elevated style, I believe verfification the best criterion, and Aristotle seems to think so from the experiment he proposes. The expression quoted by [F] Dr. Beattie from our tranflation of the Bible, 'Sweeping with the besom of destruction,' would hardly bear this teft. It must be observed that in some cases, especially in scenes of horror, the effect is often heightened by chusing a common instead of an unusual word. In the following lines from Macbeth : • Who should against his murderer shut the door, ' Not bear the knife myself.' The effect, contrary to the rule of Aristotle, would I think be much inferior if afsassin could be substituted for murderer, and dagger for knife [G]. [F] Illustrations on Sublimity, p. 638. NOTE [G] Mr. Stevens, on the occasion of Shakespear's use of the words BARE BODKIN, is at some trouble to shew us that bodkin was an old word for dagger. It may be fo. But I think Shakespear did not use it here in this sense. His context seems to imply, Why should a man suffer misery here, when the most inconfiderable, and generally, harmless instrument, will set him free. What Shakespear observes here of misery he applies to guilt in K. John. 'Do but despair, • And if thou want'st a cord the smallest thread < That ever spider twisted from her womb • Will serve to strangle thee, a rush will be A beam to hang thee on; or would'st thou drown thyself, • Put but a little water in a spoon And it shall be as all the ocean Enough to stifle such a villain up.' And
22.5.
mvp-aristotle-comment-92
22.11
BY PUTTING THE WORDS INTO VERSE.
I Do not fee any objection to the literal tranflation I have given of this passage, or why τὸ μέτρον may not retain the sense it seems obviously to have [H]. I have observed in the last note, that verfification is no bad touchstone of proper elevation of style. Ariftotle seems to be aware that it may be objected to him, that the language of poetry, verse, is sufficiently removed from common speech, to give it elevation without the afsistance of figures. In consequence of this, anticipating the objection, he answers. Even in heroic verse, whose cadence is much more elevated than iambic verse, you will find an essential difference from the change of figurative, for common language; and then referring the objector to his own experience, he defires him, to put the words into verse, previoufly to the experiment, that the alteration may be shewn to arise from the change of the words, and not from the structure of the verse. He then naturally enough returns to that kind of verse with which he is more immediately concerned, and shews an instance of the dignity of a dramatic line depending entirely on the change of a single word. And Cowley says afterwards in his Ode on Anacreon, ' In death's hand a grape-ftone proves • As strong as thunder does in Jove's.' This passage in Shakespear may perhaps remind the learned reader of the instrument Edipus employed to deprive himself of fight. [H] See Mr. Twining's note. NOTE
22.6.
mvp-aristotle-comment-93
22.14
ARIPHRADES ALSO RIDICULES THE TRAGIC POETS FOR EMPLOY- ING FORMS OF LANGUAGE THAT ARE NOT USED IN COMMON CONVERSATION, AND INVERTING THE ORDER OF THE WORDS, THOUGH THEIR DIFFERING FROM COMMON USE IS THE VERY CIRCUMSTANCE THAT ELEVATES THE STYLE.
MUCH depends on the judgement of the poet in the proper regulation of this inversion of language. When judicioufly managed it poffefses in a high degree the requisite mentioned by Aristotle, of rendering the style elevated and yet perfpicuous, provided the perfpicuity is not injured by too bold a deviation from the usual forms of speech, which in the [1] modern languages, where the connection of the words in a fentence [1] For a comparison between the French and Italian in this respect, see the defence of Maffei quoted in Note 1. of this Chapter. Indeed the Italian is superior to all modern languages in this. For an instance in the translation of a passage in Horace by Metastasio, see Note v. Chap. xxvI. The arrangement of the words in the following stanza of Tasso cannot be imitated in any other modern European language. " Dio messagier mi manda; io ti rivelo " La sua mente in suo nome; ò quanta spene " Haver d'alta vittoria, ò quanto zelo "De l'hofte a te commessa hor ti conviene." Tacque, e sparito rivolò del cielo ' A le parti più eccelse, e più serene. • Resta Goffredo à i detti, à lo splendore ‹ D'occhi abbagliato, attonito di core.' GIERUS. DELIB. Canto I. Stanza XVII. depends
depends so much on juxta-position and where there is no distinction of case except in the pronouns, will often unavoidably create obscurity. Mr. Jackson of Exeter [K] objects to such transpositions as 'thunders 'the sky,' ' shakes the ground;' for 'the sky thunders,' ' the ground Thakes;' in these cases he says, ' we are inclined to refer to some antecedent nominative.' I think for this reason the impropriety or propriety of fuch expreffion is clearly marked by the examples produced. When, as in the first instance, the verb is strictly neuter the deviation can occafion no ambiguity and is therefore allowable; but in the second instance where the verb has also a transitive sense, the inconvenience and ambiguity mentioned by Mr. Jackson will certainly arife. In the use of this license, narrative poetry has a greater latitude than dramatic; but even there obfcurity and doubt should be avoided. The effect of this arrangement of words in a verfe may be seen in a line of Prior's Henry and Emma, where, without altering the essential cadence, the words may be placed in three different ways, two of which will have different meanings, and the third, which Prior has chosen, may be applied to either, and depends folely on the context and the stops [L] for precifion. The line in question is, ، For feldom, archers say, thy arrows err; remove the first comma and it may mean, • For archers seldom say, thy arrows err;' and may be applied rather to the partiality of his companions than his skill. But the following arrangement puts the meaning of the poet beyond the reach of doubt, [K] Letter III. [L] See Note Ix. Chap. xxv. For
POETIC OF ARISTOTLE. • For archers say, thy arrows feldom err.' In dramatic poetry, and all other poetry that is recited, if juxtaposition is too much violated, though the sense will be sufficiently obvious, it will be impossible to mark it well by the voice. The following passage of Shakespear will defy the powers of elocution to give it proper force. • Foul deeds will rise, Tho' all the earth o'erwhelm them, to men's eyes.' For this reason Latin verse, however clear the whole fentence may be from the place of every word being clearly marked by the construction, can never be pronounced, by us at least, with energy; this occafions that monotony which the best reciters of it always fall into. How often does the whole force of a sentence depend on the connection of two words that relate to each other; but how can this be marked by the voice when they are in different parts of the sentence? as in this instance: • Pan etiam Arcadia mecum fi judice certet.' • Pan etiam Arcadia dicat se judice victum.' Here certainly the force of the boast which arises from the poet's challenging the god to a contest before judges the most partial in his favor, requires the connexion between ARCADIA and JUDICE to be particularly marked, which it is impossible for the voice to execute clearly, or to hinder the hearer of the last line from connecting se and JUDICE in his mind, till he has perfectly convinced himself the speaker had been correct in the last vowel of Arcadia.. Greek verse though poffeffing the same powers, by no means exerts them in the fame arbitrary manner. Virgil also, in the dramatic parts of
of his Æneid, has avoided this. In the speeches of Drances and Turnus all the emphatic epithets are closely connected with their substantives.
22.7.
mvp-aristotle-comment-94
22.17
BUT THE GREATEST ART IS TO BE HAPPY IN FORMING META- PHORS, FOR THAT ALONE CANNOT BE ACQUIRED FROM OTHERS, BUT IS ITSELF A PROOF OF A GOOD NATURAL GENIUS.
THIS distinction of metaphor from the other forms is perfectly just. No particular praise will be given to the poet for the invention of any of the other modes of ornamenting language; it will be quite sufficient if he makes a judicious use of those already invented. But in regard to metaphors the same conduct will subject him to the imputation of plagiarifm. For there is nothing that distinguishes original genius so much as the use of new and just metaphors, as there is nothing that betrays a want of it more than trite and common ones [L]. Many instances have been produced by the critics of confused metaphors where the relation is not kept up compleatly, as in the line of Horace, where he talks of bringing ILL TURNED verses to the ANVIL again [M]. [L] See Mr. Twining's note. [M] Et male tornatos incudi reddere versus.' For other instances of this fort, see Elements of Criticism, Chap. xx. Sect. vi. Befides
POETIC OF ARISTOTLE. ، Befides this obvious fault there are many other improprieties that may follow from an injudicious use of this figure. The image may be ridiculous by being unfit for the subject. As in Addison's Essay on the Georgics, where while he is very justly praising the art of the poet in elevating his subject, he attempts, perhaps in imitation of Longinus, to copy the figurative style he is criticising, and fays • he breaks the clods, and tosses the dung about, with an air of gracefulness.' Now one of the most ridiculous of all poffible objects would be a man's really doing this. A metaphor pursued too far has also a very ridiculous effect; indeed this almost falls under the article of allegory, a species of writing which some people are very fond of, but which appears to me only a more laborious kind of riddle. Such is the allegorical description of the human body in the Timæus of Plato, drawn out to a length that is both tedious and disgusting: the hyperbolical praise of which by Longinus, and the imitation of it by Spenser, does no honor to the taste either of the [N] critic or the poet. Sometimes a metaphor is perfectly incongruous and absurd, as in Cowley's Davideis, L. 111. Goliah is described as large as the hill he is coming down. • Vast as the hill down which he march'd he appear'd.' This reminds one of the story in the Connoiffeur, of the citizen, who shewing a map of London to a stranger, to enhance the grandeur of the [N] See Longinus, Sect. xxxII. Fairy Queen, Book II. Canto IX.. metropolis,
metropolis, exclaims, • Don't you fee it is bigger than the map of England ?' < A metaphor also may be too near the truth, as in the line of Dryden. • Men are but children of a larger growth.' This falls under that figure which is now distinguished by the appellation of TRUEISM. A metaphor also may possess properties that tend to make it directly contrary to the sense in which it is meant to be taken, as when King James I. advising the country gentlemen to live on their estates said, 'that in the country they were like ships in a river, and seemed large things, but in town they were like ships at sea, and made no figure at all [o].' Now though in this one point the resemblance holds, in every other circumstance it is exactly the reverse. Mr. Locke observes, ' that as ، [P] wit is chiefly conversant in tracing resemblances, judgment is rather employed in finding differences.' I cannot say the truth of this Arikes me. It feems equally the province of genius to find differences in things generally alike, and likeness in things generally different, and that it is the office of judgment to correct the errors or misrepresentations of fancy in both cafes. [o] This is rather a fimile than a metaphor, but the propriety of each is derived from the fame principles. [P] Locke uses wit for genius here; in the subsequent quotation from Dr. Beattie it is taken in the more confined sense, which is now given it. If,
POETIC OF ARISTOTLE. If, as Dr. Beattie says, 'Wit arises from the discovery of minute • relations and likenesses that had escaped the notice of others, and there- 'fore a talent for it implies a habit of minute attention to circumstances and words, whereas a fublime genius directs his view chiefly to the great and more important phenomena of art and nature.' According to the definition of Aristotle we may call a metaphor a fublime piece of wit.
22.8.
mvp-aristotle-comment-95
22.18
COMPOUNDED WORDS SUIT BEST WITH DITHYRAMBIC, FOREIGN WORDS WITH HEROIC, AND METAPHORS WITH IAMBIC VERSE.
OF the almost exclusive claim that the lyric poet lays to compounded epithets, every English reader must be sufficiently apprized. The dithyrambic poets of Greece feem to have made an ample use of this privilege, which it appears they carried sometimes to a ridiculous excess [2]. Of the peculiar language of the epopee more will be said in the two next chapters. As for the language of the drama, the empaffioned parts of it will hardly admit of any other ornament but the metaphor. This figure is almost inseparable from expreffion of violent feeling. So Lear, in the frenzy of his rage cries out, ، 'Tremble thou wretch • That haft within thee undivulged crimes Unwhipp'd of justice; hide thee thou bloody hand, Close pent up guilt,
• Rive your concealing continents, and cry • These dreadful fummoners grace.' [Q] See Note 1. Chap. xxx. 3 K It
It would be endless to cite examples which every page of any good dramatic writer will afford us, as well as the natural language either of forrow or rage, especially among the common people, who are most likely to speak the genuine language of nature. What are such words as my little jewel,' ' you beaft, &c. but metaphors? Aristotle, in Chap. xxiv. objects to an ornamented style as injuring the effect of the empaffioned parts even of the epopee [R]; but in the less interesting parts he recommends a splendid language. In this the dramatic poet is more confined. In the uninteresting parts he may indeed polish his versification, but he must not give his diction too much ornament, for such parts are only the common discourse of the characters, but in the epopee they are confidered as the language of the poet, or if you will, of the muse. But though fimplicity of style, and precision of meaning, are peculiarly requifite to the dramatic muse, they are by no means to be neglected by her fisters. It is impossible that there can be any merit in writing or speaking so as not to be understood [s]. I do not make an exception even in favor of the lyric poet. The words of Pindar [T], [R] See Note VIII. Chap. xxiv. [9] 'To write obscurely requires no other talent or skill than to express one's meaning • imperfectly; or if that is not enough to write without any meaning at all.' ARMSTRONG. [1] Φωνᾶντα συνετοῖσιν, ἐς Δὲ τὸ πᾶν ἐρμηνέων Χατίζει. • Whose meaning to the wife alone reveal'd • Lie from the vulgar herd in mystic words conceal'd.' adopted
POETIC OF ARISTOTLE. adopted as a motto to one of his odes by Gray, though I believe perfectly understood by him, have been in general mistaken by his readers; and the sense they have been supposed to convey has mifled many a modern Icarus who has tried to emulate the flight of the Theban fwan. But they cannot certainly allude to defective construction, or ambiguous phrafe, for who in that case would be the συνεται, the 'intelligent; to whom such a composition would be particularly clear ? Not the elegant and correct reader surely. Who is proverbially fo good an interpreter of an ungrammatical or an ill spelt letter as the person who writes in the same way himself? By those parts which speaking only to the intelligent escape the grosser sense of the ignorant and are not to be comprehended by the common herd of readers without explanation, the poet must mean the nice touches, sudden transitions, and frequent allufions to the various fables contained in the mythology and early history of Greece, that so frequently occur in the odes of Pindar, which however striking to the informed reader, must be totally incomprehensible to the ignorant and uninformed, and the dificulty that may at first attend the developement of these passages will excite that fort of pleasure arifing from a confciousness of acquiring a fort of knowledge, which Ariftotle mentions in his fourth chapter. Mr. Gray's incomparable Ode on the Destruction of the Welsh Bards will compleatly illustrate this to the English reader, and leave him neithet in this or any other cafe to regret his inability to confult his Grecian archetype. This composition, though full of allusions that relate to the annals of England only, Mr. Gray found so unintelligible to the many, so ' much caviare to the million,' that he was obliged to step forth as his own interpreter, and print it with explanatory notes; and yet as Dr. Beattie 3 K 2 obferves
observes [u], ' It is in the allufions only, and not in the words or ، ، images, (for these are most emphatical and picturesque) that the poem partakes of obfcurity, and even its allusions will hardly seem obfcure to those who are acquainted with the history of England. To mark more strongly what I mean by obfcurity of construction I will cite a passage from another, the most popular of Gray's works, his Elegy. Far from the madding crouds ignoble strife Their fober wishes never learn'd to stray.' The obvious conftruction of the words conveys a sense diametrically oppofite to that which, from the general tenor of the poem, and from that only, we difcover to be intended by the poet. The odes of Pindar must lose more than half their beauty even to the most accurate Greek scholar, for no modern can be so conversant with the numerous fables of Greece as not in many cafes to be one of the ἀσυνετὸι. [u] Effay on Poetry and Music, Part 11. Chap. 1. Sect. III. See also his Effay on Ima gination, page 167. A
23.1.
mvp-aristotle-comment-96
23.1
EVEN IN THE EPOPEE THE FABLES SHOULD HAVE A DRAMATIC FORM, AND RELATE TO ONE ENTIRE AND COMPLEAT ACTION, WHICH HAS A BEGINNING, A MIDDLE, AND AN END.
It has been already observed that in every fictitious tale, independently of technical rules, it is impossible to keep up the attention and interest of the piece without confining the time of the fable within a certain boundary. This rule of nature is confirmed by the practice of all our good novel writers. I will not only instance the novels of Fielding, who as being a scholar, and rather fond of shewing he was, may be supposed to display his acquaintance with the precepts of the Stagirite, or rather the models from whence they are drawn: but those of Richardfon, of Mrs. Smith, and of Miss Burney, who cannot be supposed to be influenced by any pedantry of this kind. Even in those novels which are written on what Dr. Beattie calls the historical plan, such as Peregrine Pickle and Roderick Random, though they begin with the infancy of the hero, they by no means compleat his life. The first events are rather preparatory to, than part of the main object of the story, the body of which, or to speak dramatically, the plot, is the love of the principal characters, as the solution of it, or catastrophe, is their marriage [A].. The [A] This is exactly true with regard to Tom Jones. The action properly begins with the banishment of Jones from Allworthy's house; and from that time to the conclufion, according
The mode used by the orientals to give a species of unity to their complicated fables is very fingular. Of this the Arabian Nights exhibit a curious specimen. A general story, or ground-work for the whole, is first formed. This is the bloody vow of the sultan in consequence of the sultana's infidelity, the generous resolution of the vizir's daughter, and her final triumph. Into this the other stories are woven, but the introductory tale is continually brought to our recollection by the conversation that precedes the narrative of every night. Every story is befides branched out into a number of others, to each of which it ferves as a common bond of union, as the original one is to the whole. By this strange contrivance an appearance of general unity is kept up though without the least of that effect which is proposed as the consequence of unity; as the mind is disagreeably perplexed by the broken chain of the narrative, expectation is suspended till all interest in the fable is lost, and instead of perfpicuity confusion is produced. This arrangement is preserved in the first half of Mr. Galland's tranflation. In the latter part he has given such separate stories as struck him, without dividing the nights, or preserving any connexion between them, except the catastrophe of the leading fable. Mr. Andrews in his Anecdotes [B], gives a humorous reason for M. Galland's change of conduct. But I believe the principal cause of it was the length of the original work, which he has greatly abridged, as will be apparent on comparing the number of nights in that part of his tranflation where they are according to the author's own calculation, just forty-two days intervene, and yet this is five days more than the compleat action of the Iliad occupies. [B] Appendix. Article AUTHOR. noticed,
POETIC OF ARISTOTLE. noticed [c], which is a full half of the work, with the compleat number of a thousand and one. Dr. Beattie [D] seems to question the authenticity of this work. I think the reason he urges; (the French features given it by M. Galland,) can have no weight with a person who has ever read a French translation from any language. Whoever will compare this work even through the medium of a French tranflation with the many WESTERN oriental tales, to which it has given birth, will fee strong marks of original and real character. But I believe the authenticity of this work is capable of stronger proof. I have been informed that Profeffor White has a compleat copy in Arabic. Mr. Richardson also, in his Arabic Grammar, has printed one of the fables at length in the original language, and quoted verses from another [E] which are not tranflated by M. Galland, though the tale from which they are taken is. This mode of narration was adopted by Ariosto, and was copied from him by our countryman Spenfer. As for Ariosto, his imagination is so brilliant, his subject so wonderfully varied • From grave to gay, from lively to severe :' there is such a mingled vein of fublimity, pathos, and humour, running [c] The last night noticed is the two hundred and thirty-second. Therefore half the translation is not a quarter of the original work. [D] Essay on Fable and Romance, page 509. [E] Page 181. through
A COMMENTARY ON THE CHAP. XXIII. through the whole work, that notwithstanding the many absurdities it contains, and fuch a total want of connexion in the incidents, that to enable the reader at all to follow the thread of the scattered tales, the commentators have been obliged to have recourse to inartificial assistance of marginal references; yet we can hardly with it to have been in any refpect different from what it is. But as the work of Spenser is entirely of a serious cast, our taste is more faftidious, and indeed the attempt at uniformity, which is avowed by the author [F], causes us to be more disgusted both with the want of it in the Cantos that are preserved, and the apparent inadequacy of the whole plan proposed, had it been compleatly carried into execution. The unity produced by the introduction of a general kind of secondary hero pervading the whole, must have been very awkward and very uninteresting. Prince Arthur engaged as an afsistant to the several allegorical heroes in their respective adventures, would have exactly resembled the pentathléte, as described by [G] Plato, who, however skilful he might be in the contest with those who like himself were trained to the practice of various exercises, was always inferior to those athletes who applied themselves to one only, in that peculiar exercise. [F] Letter from the author to Sir Walter Raleigh. [G] In his Εραςαι, NOTE
23.2.
mvp-aristotle-comment-97
23.2
AND NOT FOLLOW THE CUSTOM OF HISTORY, WHERE IT IS NOT NECESSARY TO CONFINE THE SUBJECT TO ONE ACTION, BUT TO ONE PERIOD OF TIME, AND WHERE EVERY THING MAY BE INTRODUCED THAT HAPPENED IN THAT TΙΜΕ.
THIS conduct of history is exactly exemplified in the work of that most entertaining of all writers Herodotus. Like Ariosto he hurries his reader from event to event, and from scene to scene, as his own lively fancy suggests, without giving him time to recollect himself, and fafcinates him at the same time so agreeably with beauty of style, and variety of matter, that he has no wish to awaken from his delirium. [H] Later historians however have found unity, of subject at least, necessary to make their works agreeable; and this circumstance is the striking distinction between the historian and the annalist. History generally confines itself to the affairs of one country, and cotemporary events of other countries are never interwoven into the thread of the story, except such as may be connected with the principal subject. Writers of general history have a great difficulty to arrange their matter so as to produce any unity of design. The only method by which this is at all attainable is breaking their history into parts, each concluding with some memorable era or striking revolution, which all the preceding events may be conceived, in some degree, as instrumental in producing. A history of Greece, from the number of independent states, is subject to [H] See Note 1. Chap. VIII. 3 L the
the fame disadvantage. In producing unity here, Col. Mitford has fucceeded wonderfully, as I augur he will when he comes to the increasing difficulties attending the divided interests of the successors of Alexander, where he will have no points of union like the superior states of Athens and Sparta to afsist him. The Roman historian from Romulus to Conftantine, has the double advantage of unity of story and concluding eras, arifing, if I may use the poetical expreffion, both from action and manners. But the task Mr. Gibbon has executed is the most difficult one that ever employed the pen of an historian, and nothing but the voice of hypercriticism can cenfure him for not giving a unity to events of which they were utterly incapable. The history of Greece, however diversified in its course, has a great and striking catastrophe in becoming a Roman province; and the preceding events have a strong bond of union in treating of a people, however divided, still resembling each other in origin, in country, and in manners. But from the time of Constantine, the Roman history diverges from its common channel. The Grecian name appears again, mixes with, and almost overpowers it, till mingling with a thoufand various and unconnected streams, it gradually loses itself in the vaft ocean of modern history, in which that event, (the taking of Conftantinople,) which is generally confidered as the final period of the Roman empire, fo far from being a decisive boundary, is a mere point that hardly attracts our obfervation. Dr. Robertson saw the neceffity of this historical unity so strongly, that he did not chuse to interweave the affairs of America with his History of Charles the Fifth, but reserved them for a feparate work; a work, for the completion of which the public impatience is strongly excited, as the obstacle mentioned is entirely removed; and the history of British
POETIC OF ARISTOTLE. British America may conclude with one of the greatest and most compleat political revolutions to be found in the annals of mankind.
23.3.
mvp-aristotle-comment-98
23.3
FOR AS THE SEA FIGHT AT SALAMIS, AND THE BATTLE WITH THE CARTHAGENIANS IN SICILY, THOUGH THEY HAPPENED AT THE SAME TIME, BY NO MEANS CONDUCED TO THE SAME END; SO ALSO EVEN IN PROGRESSIVE TIME, EVENTS MAY
" “ " SOMETIMES BE CONNECTED WITH EACH OTHER, AND YET NO PARTICULAR COMMON CONSEQUENCES MAY ARISE FROM " THEM." THIS passage is passed over by all the tranflators and commentators that I have had an opportunity of consulting, as if it were not attended with any difficulty, but it appears to me totally irreconcileable both with itself and with the preceding sentence without allowing some latitude of conjecture. Aristotle observes that history differs from poetry in confidering unity of time only without at all regarding unity of action: and that if two events happen at the same period of time, however unconnected they or the objects to which they relate may be, they have sufficient unity for the purpose of the historian: and this is well illustrated by the battles of Salamis and Sicily, both which, according to Herodotus, happened on the fame day, and are mentioned by that historian in the fame book, though they had not the most distant relation to each other. Here all would be perfectly clear, if the part between the inverted commas in the quotation that is at the head of this note, and which in the original commences with ὕτω και, and concludes with τέλος, were omitted, as Mr. Winstanley says it is in a Ms. in the Medician 3 L2
Medicean library. But admitting this part as genuine, (which I think we ought from the authority of fo many Mss. and editions, against this single one,) the example so exactly in point with the observation seems introduced merely for the purpose of bringing in a sentence which is diametrically in opposition to it, and which it appears to me can be only reconciled with the context by supposing something prior to the quotation intervening in the original between ἄλληλα and ὥσπερ, perhaps to this effect. That even successive and connected events may not always be sufficient for the purpose of the poet. And then all that follows is perfectly natural and explains the reason, which is afterwards compleatly illustrated by the examples from the lesser Iliad at the conclusion of the chapter, which though happening in successive time and connected with each other, had not yet that degree of unity which was requisite for an epic poem. Mr. Twining has not translated this passage with his usual accuracy. • So also in successive events we fometimes fee one thing follow another * without being CONNECTED TO IT BY SUCH RELATION.' However we may differ in opinion as to the reading of θάτερον μεθὰ θαζέρα, whether we conceive the preposition μεθὰ as governing the genitive or [1] the accufative, still ἐξ ὧν ἓν ἐδὲν γίνεθαι τέλος can never fignify any relation between the successive events, but must mean some common consequence to arife from both. The sentence seems to imply, that if the events should be even so connected as to be proper for the beginning and middle of a poetic fable, they may yet be incapable of producing a proper end, a catastrophe conducive to the [K] purpose of epic or tragic imitation. [1] See note on the tranflation. [K] See Chapter VII. It is observable that Aristotle, at the beginning of this chapter, uses τέλος exactly in the same sense he does τελευτή in that. NOTE
23.4.
mvp-aristotle-comment-99
23.4
HE DID NOT EVEN ATTEMPT TO INCLUDE THE WHOLE TROJAN WAR.
MR. ADDISON I believe thought he paid the Duke of Marlborough an hyperbolical compliment, when he called the transactions of the summer, in which the battle of Blenheim was fought, • An Iliad rifing out of one campaign." When on examination the action of the Iliad takes up only forty-feven days. Bossu has alfo calculated the duration of the action of the Odyssey and the Æneid. He fixes the former at fifty-eight days, and the latter at half a year. It is impossible to apply these critical compasses to a poem whose action passes • Beyond the flaming bounds of space and time. It is obvious however that the Paradise Lost is confined within such a period, that the connection of the [L] beginning, the middle, and the end is easily comprehended; and that though the action is continued, it enters sufficiently into detail to be perfectly interesting [M]. [L] See Chap. VIII.. [M] See Note 11. Chap. xxiv. NOTE
23.5.
mvp-aristotle-comment-100
23.5
TAKING THEREFORE ONLY ONE PART FOR HIS SUBJECT, НЕ INTRODUCES ABUNDANCE OF EPISODES FROM THE OTHER PARTS.
- FROM what is said by Aristotle in Chapter XVII. where he gives the plain story of the Iphigenia in Tauris, and the Odyssey, it appears that he confiders every thing as episode that is at all extraneous to the fimple story. Every thing in short, that if either taken away or altered, would make no essential change in the principal event of the fable; and even the episode, he adds, should be nearly connected with the story, as he instances in the madness of Orestes. The fame injunction as to the epopee is infinuated here, as the episodes of Homer are faid to be taken from the events of the war, of which he brings the catalogue of the ships as an example. However Homer did not confine himself always to these congenial episodes as in the history of Bellerophon given by Glaucus in the fixth Iliad.
From what Ariftotle says, and the examples he produces in both places, he feems to make this distinction between the dramatic and epic episode. That the first should be an event, though not essentially, yet closely connected with the story, and happening to one of the characters as the madness of Orestes, and not any detached circumstance, any interesting under-plot which in so short a composition as a tragedy would hurt the unity, and divide the interest of the fable. (N) But that the epopee from [N] See Chap. xxvi. its
POETIC OF ARISTOTLE. its greater extent, to which variety was more necessary, and from its interest being less compressed, and in which so powerful an effect was not requifite, was indulged with a freer use of episodes, in themselves interesting, provided they were connected at all with the main fubject; even so interesting as to form a proper basis for a tragedy. This however he does not propose so much as an addition to the excellencies of the epopee, as an indulgence allowed to its defects. The Paradife Loft abounds with episodes, all of which are connected with the fable. The modern comic epopee affords examples of all forts. The worst are those like the novels introduced in Don Quixote, such as [o] the 'Ill-timed Curiosity,' which Fielding has imitated in the story of, The Man of the Hill' in Tom Jones, and Paul and Leonard' in Joseph Andrews. These episodes exactly resemble the eastern arrangement of fable. The story of Cardenio and Lucinda' in Don Quixote, and still more • Nightingale and Mrs. Miller's Daughter' in Tom Jones, are episodes connected with the fable. Perhaps the true criterion of the propriety of an epic episode is the possibility of the reader's passing it over without breaking, in the least degree, the chain of the narrative. [O] IL CURIOSO IMPERTINENTE, which has been wisely rendered in English, THE CU- RIOUS IMPERTINENT, CHAP.
24.1.
mvp-aristotle-comment-101
24.3
THE ILIAD IS SIMPLE AND PATHETIC, THE ODYSSEY COMPLI- CATED AND FULL OF CHARACTERISTIC MANNERS.
BY simple, as Ariftotle has already mentioned (Chap. X.), is meant without peripetía or discovery, which is strictly the character of the Iliad. The character also of pathetic which he gives it, taken in the same sense as it is in Chapter XI. when applied to tragedy, is exactly fitted to it, for it is replete with deaths, wounds, and other disastrous events. The Odyssey is complicated both from abounding in discoveries, as Aristotle particularly observes, and deriving its catastrophe from a very beautiful and affecting peripetía. I confess I do not see so strongly its fuperiority over the Iliad in point of manners. The Iliad is deservedly celebrated for nice discrimination of character, as nice perhaps as the rude and uniform way of life of the age would permit; and many of these strokes which characterize the manners, are also in the highest degree pathetic, using the word in its modern acceptation. Such, for instance, as the interview between Hector and Andromache, and the lamentation over the body of Hector, especially the speech of Helen [P]. However not only Aristotle, but even Homer himself characterizes the hero of the Odyssey as being versed in the manners of various na- [P] See Note II. Chap. xv. tions.
POETIC OF ARISTOTLE. tions. Therefore though the delineation of character is strongly marked in the Iliad, and though in fact the anger of Achilles, which forms the ground-work of the poem, is rather a quality than an action; yet from the variety of scenes, nations and ranks of men defcribed in the Odyssey, the manners themselves may be introduced oftener, and must be more diverfified than in a work, whose scene of action is confined to a camp and a befieged city. Homer himself mentions variety as characteristic of the manners of the Odyssey. But if the Odyssey (Q) does not appear to me so strongly distinguished from the Iliad in point of manners, as to make them a character of contradistinction; on the other hand I must again repeat what I have before observed [R], that I can by no means accede to the opinion of Longinus, as to the decided superiority of the Iliad over the Odyssey in general: though perhaps the Iliad may have fome passages more strikingly fublime than any thing to be found in the Odyfssey; and the Odyssey may in some places have carried the marvellous into the extreme. Yet surely in the conduct and interest of the fable, the Odyssey has infinitely the advantage; and, for this reason probably, it appears to have [Q] It appears to have been at some time a doubt among the critics, whether the lliad and Odyssey were the work of the same perfon; for in the edition of Homer by Villoifon, which I have already mentioned in Note VII. on Chap. xv. near the conclufion, in one of the Scholia the mark called διπλῆ καθαρὰ, besides the use there mentioned as assigned to it, is said to point out passages (probably in confutation) to those who ascribe the Iliad and Odyssey to different poets. Πρὸς τὰς λέγοντας μὴ εἶναι τὸ ἀυτὲ ποιητᾶ Ιλίαδα καὶ Οδυσσείαν. So long ago as the year 1769, the late Dr. Hunter informed me, a friend of his was writing a treatise on this subject. I do not believe it has ever been made public. [R] See Note IV. Chap. VI. 3 M been
A COMMENTARY ON THE CHAP. XXIV. been the greater favorite of Aristotle who draws infinitely more examples from it in this work than from the Iliad, a mark of approbation that infinitely outweighs the censure of [s] Longinus. It is not impoffible that the subject of the Iliad might be more agreeable to the taste of Longinus, than the Odyssey, which is in fact a delineation of the private manners of the higher ranks of Greece, and there fore not fo capable of the Sublime as the Iliad. One drew his characters as kings and warriors, the other as fathers, fons and husbands. I mean in general; there are beautiful deviations from the rule in both, and which receive additional beauty from being contrasted with the leading features of the respective poems.. [T] Pope has been much and justly blamed for altering the manners of Homer, from a false refinement which he borrowed from the French critics while he abused them; and which, if the capricious taste of the [s] I should hardly have made any excuse for this assertion, had not so elegant a critic as Mr. Hayley preferred Longinus to the Stagirite. I may be prejudiced perhaps, for it is impoffible to feparate our opinion of the doctrine, from that we have of the person who delivers it, but in this case I own I can form no comparison between an Attic writer, the immediate fucceffor. of Xenophon and Plato, and a femi-barbarian, even if an Athenian, as some affert, of the age of Aurelian, one of those - Quos Græcia non suos alumnos Agnovit in pejus ruentis ævi. On this occafion I am almost tempted to adopt the strong distinction M. Leffing makes between the Greek and Roman writers; (Dramaturgie, Part II. page 132.) and say, 'It is not < impoffible that one may, for once only, have judged better than the other, but on the simple < possibility it is what I would not believe in any cafe.. [T] See Note 1. Chap. xv. and Note Iv. on this Chapter. public
POETIC OF ARISTOTLE. public at the time of his tranflation made necessary, a juster sense of propriety has now exploded. But this is carried so far in the Odyssey as to be perfectly absurd, and entirely to change the manners, and confequently the incidents (which are closely connected with them,) of the whole work. Pope all through the Odyssey represents Telemachus as not only having his substance wasted and his life attempted by the suitors, but as having his paternal throne ufurped, though there is no idea of fuch a thing mentioned in the original, nor does Telemachus [u] ever complain of any other injury than the waste of his flocks and herds, and the riots in his house. That Ulysses was an elected and not an hereditary prince is obvious from the private situation of Laertes, who, had he been king, would hardly have given up the government to Ulysses before or during the fiege of Troy. He is not at the return of Ulysses so old as to be unable to bear arms and even kill an armed warrior with his spear; and the time of the absence of Ulyffes was twenty years. In the fecond Book of the Odyssey, when Telemachus appeals to the assembly of the chiefs, Pope tells us, when he came His father's throne he fill'd, while distant stood • The hoary peers and aged wisdom bow'd; and when he rose ' majestic' to speak • His royal hand th' imperial fceptre sway'd.' [u] In the first book of the Odyssey, Antinous mentions the hereditary right of Telemachus to the monarchy in a taunting manner. Telemachus in answer, disclaims any exclufive right to the fucceffion of the government, but asserts his right to his father's property, both which are confirmed by Eurymachus. It is curious to see how completely Pope has misrepresented this, both in his translation and note upon it. 3 M 2 This
This is exactly a prince regent in the house of lords; but the original only says, [x] that he fat in his father's feat and the elders gave way to him, as seems natural both out of respect to his birth and because it was at his defire they met, and confequently he was to declare his cause of complaint to them. And as for the imperial fceptre it was no more than an ensign of oratory which [Y] the herald used to put in the hands of all public speakers when they addressed a large assembly. [z] • On feats of stone within the facred place, • The rev'rend elders judged the dubious case • Alternate; each th' attesting sceptre took, • And rifing folemn each his fentence spoke.' The constant repetition of court and palace, is in the same style; but the continual appellation of the prince, which is given to Telemachus, is [x] Ε΄ζελο δ᾽ ἐν πατρὸς θώκῳ ἔιξων δὲ γέροντες. But though hereditary succession to regal authority was no claim as clearly appears, I think from the whole story of the Odyssey, it seems clearly to have been the general practice in Greece during the era of the Trojan war. – Σκῆπτρον δὲ ὁι εμβαλε χειρὶ [γ] Y Κήρυξ Πεισήνωρ. [z] See Iliad Book XVIII. v. 504. in the original; 585 in Pope. I have altered the second line which is tranflated without the least authority from Homer, The rey'rend elders NODDED O'ER THE cafe.'" The meaning of this passage seems to have been universally mistaken; the obvious meaning is that given by Col. Mitford in his history of Greece. See Chap. III. Sect. 11. who supposes the talents of gold to be the object of the litigation not the reward of the judge, and that the speakers pleaded, not judged alternately, αμοιβηδὶς δ᾽ ἐδίκαζον. Δικάζομαι, in the middle voice has this sense. Though I cannot recollect another instance of its being used in this sense in the active voice, it feems so obviously necessary here, that I am inclined to confider this as one.. a mafter-
POETIC OF ARISTOTLE. a master-piece of absurdity. Prince in its general acceptation is equivalent with king; in the appropriated language of modern etiquette, it may be called the second title of a king, which is bestowed on his eldest fon, to whom, with the article THE prefixed it peculiarly belongs. But it is fully as abfurd to give this title to the son even of a Greek hereditary monarch, as it would have been in Shakespear, who, following our older writers, made Theseus, Duke of Athens, to have called his fon, had he introduced him in his drama the Marquis, a fault that has been really committed by Beaumont and Fletcher in their tragedy of Cupid's Revenge. But we cannot wonder at any absurdity in writers, who make Demetrius Poliorcetes fire [A] a pistol. This title given to Telemachus, reminds me of a circumstance I have met with in some novel, where an African prince is introduced to an affected and ignorant woman, who asks him if he is Prince of Wales in his own country, or only one of the younger princes. In all interesting narrations where manners are strongly painted, the poet should be particularly careful not to blend them too much with the affecting parts. This is more particularly to be attended to in the comic epopee where manners are drawn with a bolder hand, and their tendency is frequently such as must counteract the affecting parts of the action. Miss Burney, who is second to none in just and well-difcriminated portraits of life and manners, runs a little into this fault in her novel of Cecilia. When the heroine is on the road to meet Delville in London and be privately married to him, we are too much interested in her fituation to attend to the conversation of the group that embarrasses her on. [A] See Note 1. Chap. XII. There is a print by Rembrandt of Tobit, where the scene is laid. in a Flemish kitchen, with dried herrings hanging in a great chimney corner.. the
the way. The fame may be partly faid of the Vauxhall scene, but more strongly of the scene between Hopson and Cecilia immediately preceding her terrible interview with Delville, which brings on the catastrophe. This mixture of exceedingly well drawn comic character, with the strongest force of tragio situation, must contribute in great measure to weaken the effect of both. Fielding has avoided this in his novel of Tom Jones. He introduces no striking delineation of character from the time of his imprisonment till the final discovery. The manners in Joseph Andrews are highly colored till the conclufion, but then it contains no deep distress. Richardfon was the most unequal drawer of character imaginable. Mr. Greville has painted this painter of manners with fuch lively and just traits, that I trust I shall be forgiven for inserting a sketch of the picture. He is in many particulars the most minute, • fine, delicate observer of human nature I ever met with, the most re- • fined and just in his sentiments; but he often carries that refinement ، • into puerility, and that justness into tastelessness. He not only enters upon those beautiful and touching distinctions which the gross concep- ' tions of most men are incapable of discerning, but he also falls upon all ⚫ the trivial filly circumstances of society which can have attractions only ' for the nursery. His understanding seems to be hampered and con- ' fined; it wants enlargement, freedom, or to say all in one word, taste. • His men of the world are strange debauchées, his women outrageoufly • OUTRE'ES both in good and bad qualities [B].' I cannot quit a note which began with a comparison between the epopees of Homer, without taking notice of another which has been often compared with them, and strange to tell, often preferred to them. [B] Greville's Maxims, 3d edit. page 51. I mean
POETIC OF ARISTOTLE. I mean the Æneid. I must say I am aftonished how such a comparison could ever have existed. Originality and invention are the foul of poetry; and Virgil, in his Æneid, has no more pretenfions to these than Pope has in his tranflation. It is true he has frequently ornamented the fimplicity of the old bard, and perhaps sometimes with advantage, but certainly oftener with a contrary effect, and so has our countryman. And I confefs I think in general, the more Virgil has deviated from his archetype the more he has deviated from excellence. What? I may be asked, do you wish, instead of writing the Æneid, he had translated the Iliad and Odyssey? I am much inclined to anfwer, Yes. And I think where Pope has given the sense of his original unsophisticated, his poem has a more original air than the Æneid. The great difference between Homer and Virgil consists in this, and it is in fact all the difference between poetical excellence and mediocrity; Homer described what he had feen; he combined incidents which he knew were founded on truth and nature; he painted manners which were real; he used machinery, the existence of which he believed; he was the Shakespear of Greece, with the advantage of writing in the most perfect language, (M) in its highest state of refinement, and with the most harmonious verfification imaginable. An advantage never enjoyed by any other poet. For, except Homer, no writer has lived at a period. which at the same time furnished manners and incidents best calculated for poetical imitation, and a language at the same time at its highest state of perfection, and capable of every degree of poetical ornament. [M] Greek verse received no additional ornament after Homer. The latest Greek poets, to the time of Oppian, attempted neither innovation or improvement; they tried no other road to excellence in poetry than what the great master of the art had pointed out to them. See Note Iv. on this chapter. In
In this last advantage Virgil was indulged: he wrote in the happiest era of the Roman language, and of that era his style was the purest. The only difference between the two poets in this respect lies in the superiority of the Greek language, and its more natural versification (N]. But in the other respects his inferiority was great indeed. The manners at Rome were as little natural in the Augustan age as they are now at London or Paris. The wars of the time were not directed by the private paffions of individuals; they were the wars of political ambition. In fuch wars nothing is interesting or picturesque. He was obliged to defcribe incidents he never faw, paint manners he was not converfant with, and introduce machinery, the existence of which was generally disbelieved by himself, and all the higher ranks of his cotemporaries. In confequence of these circumstances, every deviation from his archetype is a deviation from truth and nature. In imitating things in which he had no other guide to direct him than Homer, when he quitted that guide he must go wrong; and had he imitated scenes familiar to him they would have been as ill fitted for the epopee as the subject of the Henriade. Of what Virgil could do when he had a subject familiar to himself, and proper for poetry, though of an inferior kind, the divine Georgic will be an eternal monument. Yet, beautiful as the episode of Eurydice is, I cannot think the fourth book of the Georgic equal to the [N] See Note VI. Chap. XXII. But whatever might be the inferiority of Latin to Greek verse is repaid by the superiority of Latin to Greek oratory. If Greek is the natural language of poetry, Latin is the ornamented language of eloquence. When Longinus hefitates which to prefer, Demofthenes or Cicero, his real decision is apparent. For what Dr. Johnson has faid of our northern fellow countrymen may with greater propriety be said, especially in matters of literature, of the countrymen of Longinus. A Greek must be a very sturdy ' moralist who did not love Greece better than truth.' I however confine this to literary rather than political vanity. See Note VI. on this chapter. others.
POETIC OF ARISTOTLE. others. The three first books must please, from their views of general nature, but furely the battles and internal government of bees is not very interesting in a poetical light. I know the commentators talk of an afcending scale in the four books, from corn and grass, to trees, to animated nature, and the mimic actions of men, and which, in the last instance particularly, is strongly enforced by Mr. Harris, in his Philological Enquiries, page 123. I confess this account of the bees seems to me very congenial with that species of the burlesque which is derived. from dressing mean objects in pompous words, it reminds me of the Batrachomyomachia of Homer [o]. [P] As a proof of the fimplicity of the times described by Homer, it is a great doubt if his kings and heroes could write or read; at least when the Grecian leaders cast lots who shall engage Hector in single combat, in the seventh Iliad they only make their marks, for when the lot figned by Ajax falls out of the helmet, and is carried round by the herald, none of the chiefs know to whom it belongs till it is brought to Ajax himself. [o] Dr. Johnson says, (See BOSWELL'S LIFE, Vol. II. p. 454,) ، The Georgics did not < give me so much pleasure as the Æneid, EXCEPT THE FOURTH BOOK.' An instance of his predilection for description of political society, beyond the beauties of nature. [P] The probability that Homer lived much nearer the times he described than is usually supposed has been shewn by Mr. Mitford with as much clearness as so distant an event is capable of. See MITFORD'S HISTORY OF GREECE, Appendix to Chap. Iv. 3 N NOTE
24.2.
mvp-aristotle-comment-102
24.4
THE PROPER LENGTH OF THE EPOPEE HAS BEEN ALREADY MENTIONED; THERE SHOULD BE A POSSIBILITY OF COMPRE- HENDING THE BEGINNING AND END IN ONE VIEW, WHICH WOULD BE ATTAINED IF IT WERE A LITTLE SHORTER THAN THE COMPOSITIONS OF THE EARLIER POETS, AND REDUCED TO THE SAME LENGTH WITH THE NUMBER OF TRAGEDIES THAT ARE PERFORMED AT ONE TIME.
I CONFESS that, in the first edition of my translation, I followed the opinion of Dacier in understanding this passage as censuring other epic poets for the too great length of their poems, and recommending Homer's epopees as the standard in this respect. But Mr. Twining's arguments in favor of the contrary opinion are so conclusive to me, that I have, without any hesitation, abandoned my former hypothefis to adopt his. It appears clearly, both from the authorities he cites and his own reasoning, that four tragedies were the most that could be fupposed to be performed at one fitting, and which would certainly be now more than sufficient to wear out the patience of the most unwearied admirer of the drama [Q]. And to read a poem of that length without intermiffion, though it would not take up fo much time as the repre- [Q] Mr. Twining has shewn that the spectators took refreshment during this long re-- presentation. It appears that this practice, which is still continued at Sadler's Wells, was the general custom of the old English theatre, where the audience were regaled with tobacco, wine and beer. See a passage from PRYNNE'S HISTRIOMASTRIA, page 322, cited by Mr. Stevens, in his ESSAY ON THE ORIGIN OF THE ENGLISH. STAGE. fentation
POETIC OF ARISTOTLE. sentation of a drama, would I believe, however interesting, never be performed for pleasure only [R], and yet this continued attention must be the point of coincidence to which Aristotle would bring the drama and the epopee [s]. Mr. Twining has also confuted me on my own principles. I have supposed it improbable that Aristotle, who has been in this chapter so lavish of his praises of that poet in express terms, should here censure a part of his conduct by a kind of indirect implication. But Mr. Twining very properly asks, ' Had Aristotle meant to except Homer, why not expressly name him? Gladly as he appears to seize every opportunity of giving the poet his just praise, would he not here also ⚫ have opposed his conduct to that of other poets as he has done in so many other instances? Or why indeed refer us to the number of tragedies successively performed in one day, when he might as well have ' referred at once to the Iliad or the Odyffey.' ، ، This fame reasoning may be applied to all works of narrative imitation. Richardson's Grandifon and Clarissa are much too long. Perhaps Tom Jones falls a little under this predicament. What shall we fay then of the Clelias and Parthenissas, those voluminous romances of the last age, whose perusal would furnish fix months employment to the application of the reader? The epopee from the nature of its mode of imitation, as is well shewn by the Stagirite in this chapter, independent of any rules of art, has a [R] Dacier says, that fometimes fixteen tragedies were performed in fucceffion, which would have taken up thirty-two hours, allowing only two hours for each tragedy. He fays alfo the Iliad might be read through in a day. So it might for a wager. See Mr. Twining's note. [s] See Note III. Chap. xxvi. 3 N 2 much
A COMMENTARY ON THE CHAP. XXIV. much larger scope and richer materials for extending its bulk than can with the greatest indulgence be poffibly allowed to the drama. • The epopee,' (to use the words of Metaftafio, which are a fort of paraphrafe of those of Ariftotle) ' has as it were the whole world for its theatre, and is enabled by narration to avail itself as its material of what different people do at the fame time in different places.' With the drama it is far otherwise. The latter advantage it is impossible it can attempt without utter absurdity; and a plan equally extensive with the epopee is beyond its powers. (T) I have in another place vindicated Shakespear for his deviation from the local laws of the Greek drama; but though I acknowledge myself an admirer almost to idolatry of his excellencies, I cannot bring myself to idolize his faults. That he errs frequently against the general rules on which dramatic probability can alone be founded, it is impoffible to deny, and we can only fay in his justification what Aristotle said of the improbabilities in the Odyssey, Though such faults would be intolerable in an inferior ، writer, they are here almost lost amidst the luftre of furrounding beau- ⚫ ties.' Yet nevertheless they are faults, and as fuch should, if poffible, be avoided. But the epic plan has its boundaries, as well as the actual length of the poem itself. Interest can only be excited by entering into detail. It is not fufficient to mention only, an affecting incident; the poet, if he would influence the paffions of his readers, must describe the circumftances particularly; he must not only, to use the words of Aristotle in another part of this work [u], conduct his imitation well, but dramatically. The natural boundaries of the real length of the poem, and length of plan are mutually dependant on each other. If the poem is itself too long, the story, however drawn out in detail, will [T] See Note III. Chap. v.. [U] Chapter Iv.. certainly
POETIC OF ARISTOTLE. certainly incur the fault of not having the beginning, the middle, and the end, the necessary connexion of one part on the other, easily comprehended by the memory; and if a proper length as to the real bulk of the poem is chosen, and a plan is formed of too great an extent, one of two defects must arise from it. Either the events and situations must be so slightly touched on, as to lose their interest, or if the most interesting parts are sufficiently detailed, there will be a want of uniformity that will disgust, the story will be broken into parts, and the idea of the length of time will be confused in the mind of the reader. It must be remembered, that the real natural unity of time, as well as that of place depending upon it, are equally limited by natural probability in the epopee and the drama. If the precise time of an event in the epopee is marked by any circumstance of the action, probability is essentially violated, if more events are crouded into that time than could really happen in it. And if in a comedy that takes up only four hours the fame person should not be in London and Bath, or in a tragedy, the action of which takes up twenty-four hours, he should not be seen at Rome and at Athens; so in an epopee, which takes up forty days, he should not in the course [x] of the action be in England and the East-Indies. To this circumstance being strongly pointed out by nature, we must impute that general regard paid to it, even by indifferent novel writers, which has been noticed in the first note on the preceding chapter: and which has been made still more necessary by the mode, now [x] In the Odyssey the narrative of Ulyffes to Alcinous, and that of Æneas to Dido, are out of the action. See Bossu, L. III. Chap. xi. almost
almost universally adopted, of throwing the narrative into correspondence, which enforces a continuity of action, with more than dramatic precifion. We are less disgusted at the interval of fixteen years that elapses between the third and fourth acts of the Winter's Tale than we should at a twelfth part of that time interrupting an epistolary novel. The Winter's Tale is in fact composed of two distinct dramas, one the sequel of the other; and in the last there are several new characters [Y]. But the correspondents of the novel have the property of the ancient chorus, in keeping the action always before our eyes. For we can never suppose all the persons to drop their correfpondence while one of the principal characters acquires a fortune in the East Indies, however rapidly it may occafionally have been done there. The only resource the author has in this cafe is to step forth in propria persona, and tell his readers that as nothing very interesting happened in that time he has fuppressed the correspondence [z]. Though the epopee, from the action not being immediately before the eyes, has in most respects a greater latitude of indulgence than the drama [A], yet in point of detail it must be much inferior. By detail the events of two hours may be drawn out into a hundred pages, nay a thousand when the actual length of the work is unlimited; and as we always calculate time by the succession of ideas, what is minutely described will naturally appear long. However tedious one may be, and [Y] It is the custom of the Spanish drama, (at least the comedies of Cervantes are fo printed,) to prefix to each act the names of the characters that appear in it. [z] I recollect an instance of this fort in a novel called Clara and Emmeline. [A] See Note III. Chap. xxvi. however
POETIC OF ARISTOTLE. however agreeable the other, a month spent in a uniform way, where the transactions of one day exactly correspond with those of the fucceeding ones, will on retrospection appear to have passed more rapidly than the same space of time in which we have been engaged in a variety of transactions. Or, still more applicably to this case, let any person compare different parts of the English history [B], whose comparative chronology he has never before examined, and he will be surprised to find the different impreffion detail of event has made on his imagination as to duration of time. If much (c) of this detail intervenes between any two interesting events, without that detail being very minutely connected with both, the effect of their dependence on each other will be greatly weakened. This is, to my own feelings, strongly exemplified in Tom Jones. A very short period of time intervenes between the fup- [B] For the first clear notion I had of this I must acknowledge my obligation to Dr.. Priestley's Charts of History and Biography, where the time is marked by equi-distant lines, and the comparative chronology seen by one comprehensive view. See his Preliminary Description. [c] In the Iliad, Achilles kills Hector at his first appearance in the field after the death of his friend, but from the intervening detail that behaviour impresses us a little with the idea. of deliberate cruelty, which might have seemed only excusable indignation if the events had been more obviously connected. In this instance Virgil has been superior to his master;
Pallas te hoc vulnere! Pallas • Immolat!' Is an imitable instance of poetical art.. This in real events is evident, as in the execution of criminals. Many an atrocious offender, whose death immediately succeeding his offence would have been looked upon with fatisfaction, becomes, from the interval between them, an object of univerfal pity. Our legislature has seen this, and in the most atrocious of all offences, MURDER, execution follows closely after conviction. posed
posed final parting of Jones and Sophia; yet so long a detail of events, in which, though Sophia appears, her character, as to her paffion for Jones, is so little affecting, and Jones is involved in so many adventures in which she is unconcerned, or rather worse than unconcerned, that their re-union does not give us that lively fatisfaction we should expect from it, when we feel ourselves so strongly affected by their separation. This however may be partly imputed to the conduct of the poet in the catastrophe, where I own the behaviour of Sophia on her meeting with Jones, her obstinate refusal of him, and her extraordinary mode of afterwards consenting to an immediate marriage with him, seem to me perfectly unnatural. (D) Now in the drama the contracted period of the performance will not fuffer an interest once warmly excited ever to cool unless from very ill conduct in the poet. I would not be supposed to censure the body of this inimitable composition on any other ground than its effect on part of the catastrophe. Of the conduct of the work in general I have before given my opinion in the strongest terms of approbation, and the detail is in itself interefting in the highest degree, directly the reverse of Richardson, which is often trifling and tedious in the extreme. In Mrs. Smith's novel of Ethelinde, though the time of the abfence of Montgomery takes up but a short part of the bulk of the work, it must occupy at least as much of the poetical time as all the other incidents; yet as the detail of the intervening events is abridged, (contrary indeed to the uniformity of the tale, but which in such a case is more honored in the breach than the observance,) and in that detail the paf- [D] See Note III. Chap. xxvI. fion
POETIC OF ARISTOTLE. sion of Ethelinde for Montgomery is a prominent feature, our interest for the lovers, as such, is never relaxed. In the next chapter Ariftotle allows a deviation from the rules of art if that deviation conduces to the end of poetical imitation; that is, if it makes the effect of the incidents more striking. Having mentioned Mrs. Smith, I cannot avoid paying the tribute due to her extraordinary talents, which excel in two species of composition so different as the novel and the fonnet, and whose powers are so equally capable of charming the imagination, and awakening the passions. I feel a strong wish to see both these exerted in the highest degree in one work; and that she would clothe some pathetic tale, in the conception of which she could not be excelled, with that garb of luxuriant fancy and melodious versification, in which she cannot be equalled.
24.3.
mvp-aristotle-comment-103
24.10
CHÆREΜΟΝ.
ON comparing what Aristotle says of this person, and his mode of imitation here, with what he has before faid of them in the [E] first chapter, I think we must be convinced that Aristotle approved only the regular epopee in hexameter verse, though he was obliged to class many anomalous compositions under that head, which from being imitations of human actions and characters, partook of the nature of poetry, and from being narrative, and using language only, unaccompanied by mufic, could not so well be classed under any other. [E] Note III. Chap. 1. Though
Though Athenæus calls the Hippocentaur, which is obviously alluded to in both places, a drama, (δρᾶμα πολύμετρον,) I must prefer the authority of Aristotle. From what he says, and the manner he has introduced it, there can be no doubt of its being a narrative poem. It is true in those points where the conduct of the drama and the epopee coincide, he takes his examples promiscuously from either, and he frequently illustrates an epic rule from Sophocles, and a dramatic one from Homer. But both these passages relate solely to the epopee, not as it resembles, but as it essentially differs from the drama. It is not impossible however but this poem might be a dialogue, though not intended for representation. On which account, though Aristotle classes it with the epopee, on the fame principle (F) that he does the Socratic dialogues and the mimes of Sophron (G) and Xenarchus, Athenæus might naturally enough call it a drama.
24.4.
mvp-aristotle-comment-104
24.11
NO LONG COMPOSITION HAS BEEN ATTEMPTED IN ANY OTHER VERSE EXCEPT THE HEROIC: NATURE HERSELF HAVING POINTED THAT OUT AS THE MOST PROPER...
THE same observation has been made as to the exclufive fitness of iambic [H] verse for the drama, and both have been strictly attended to [F] See the above cited note. [G] The fifteenth Idyllium of Theocritus is supposed to be taken from one of the mimes. of Sophron. See Mr. Twining's fixth note, and the authority he cites. See also Warton's notes on that Idyllium in his edition of Theocritus. [H] See Note Iv. Chap. IV. by
POETIC OF ARISTOTLE. by the epic and tragic writers of Greece and Rome. Indeed the affertion of Ariftotle, that this distinction is founded on nature seems perfectly just. Iambic verse would have been too colloquial to have kept up a tone sufficiently elevated for the epopee, when unassisted by the powers of representation, the empassioned sentiments, and more affecting incidents of the drama: while the natural elevation of heroic verse, according to the concluding sentence of this chapter, would have been too splendid for the interesting scenes of tragedy. As for any of the lyric measures, though adapted to the musical parts of the drama, they would have been still less suited to the dialogue than hexameter verse, from their being still more remote from common speech. So much fo, from the violent license taken with the ufual arrangement of the words, and the consequent dificulty of ready construction, as to want the clearness necessary even for epic imitation. But in those modern languages, in which the drama and the epopee have been chiefly cultivated, I mean the Italian, the French, and the English, no criterion of this fort seems to have been unalterably fettled: and perhaps the supposed propriety of one species of verse for one fpecies of compofition, is frequently determined more by custom than Metastafio, (See his Estratto della Poetica, page 343,) afferts the fuperiority of the OTTAVA RIMA for the epopee. And is so partial to rhyme in general, that he doubts if the reason why the ancients did not use it, was not occafioned by the scarcity of fimilar terminations [1]; nature. and [1] It is curious that a directly contrary reason is given by Dr. Beattie. He says, ' It is ⚫ true the Greeks and Romans did not admit in their poetry those similar endings of lines • which we call rhyme. The reason probably was, that in the classical tongues, on account • of their regular structure, like terminations were so frequent, that it required more dexte- • rity, and occasioned a more pleasing suspense to the ear to keep them separate than to ' bring
and if the invention of this ornament of versification may not be included among those improvements in science which modern industry has added to the acquirements of the ancients, such as the telescope, the mariner's compass, and the art of printing. He concludes by saying, that unrhymed verse never can be popular in Italy, and that from this circumstance nobody reads L'ITALIA LIBERATA of Triffino, or Le SETTE GIORNATE DEL MONDO CREATO of Tasso, both of which are written in VERSI SCIOLTI, or blank verse. It is impossible for a foreigner to judge in this cafe [k]. The authority of a poet like Metastasio is great; yet when we reflect, that all his poetry except the recitative of his dramas is in rhyme, and remember how ready people are to condemn what they do not like, or do not excel in themselves, we muft admit his teftimony with some degree of doubt. Perhaps the fubjects may be ill chosen, or particularly ill adapted to that species of verse. The title of Tasso's work gives us no favourable idea of it as a poem, perhaps the poems in other respects were faulty. Johnson says he could never read Thomson's Liberty, because it was in blank verse; but Johnfon neither liked liberty or blank verse. It certainly is in itself a very heavy poem, but that is not to be imputed to the nature of the blank verse even of Thomson, which is remarkable for being enflated, and of diffi- • bring them together. But in the modern languages the case is different.' ESSAY ON: LAUGHTER AND LUDICROUS COMPOSITION, Chap. 11. p. 381. Notwithstanding these contradictory assertions, yet in point of fact, considering their refpective languages, they may both be in the right. It may be more easy to rhyme in Italian than in Greek and Latin, and perhaps more difficult in English.. [K] We all feel this in regard to modern languages, which we have frequently heard per-- fectly spoken, and yet take upon us to decide about those which have been dead for centuries, as if we knew them by instinct.. cult
POETIC OF ARISTOTLE. cult construction; fince there are few poems in the language more popular than The Seafons; and even Dr. Johnson himself does not wish that work had the addition of rhyme. The French are equally partial to the rhymed alexandrine for the drama; and I should conceive from the fame reason, that the Italians prefer the RIMA OTTAVA for the epopee, custom. But where custom does not authorize it, as in the French epopee, a species of poetry that will not only bear, but absolutely requires a language more different from common fpeech than the drama, it did not fucceed. For no one I believe ever read the Henriade without feeling in some measure the same sensation as would arife from reading an heroic poem in [L] Sapphics. [L] There is more monotony in Latin Sapphics than in any species of verse I know. The accents, of which French verse is destitute, fall exactly as in an English heroic verse, beginning with an accented syllable, the emphatic accent of the verse is on the first syllable of the dactyl, and the pause after the last syllable of the spondee. To this disposition of the accent we must add the exact rules of quantity, which, though often vitiated by our pronunciation, must have been marked by that of the Romans; and not only the times but the number of fyllables is also exactly equal. There are only nine lines in the three first books of Horace in which this disposition of the accent and pause is not observed; in the fourth there are twenty. Dr. Watts's Sapphic Ode on the Day of Judgment is composed of complete English dramatic verses with a redundant syllable, as any person will find on reading them without dwelling too strongly either on the emphatic syllable or the pause, which characterize the Sapphic cadence. Read these lines of Shakespear as I have marked them, and you find exactly the cadence of Dr. Watts's Sapphics.. • If lufty love should go in quest of beauty, • Where should he find it?' The Adonic, as to its accentual cadence only, exactly resembles a fragment of a Sapphic, confifting of the first five syllables. See Note II. Chap. xx. In
In regard to English verse it certainly requires great caution to diftinguish between natural propriety and prejudice arising from custom. As far as this I think we may say with confidence, as to natural propriety, that the loofer kind of blank verse, indulged with a freer disposition of accent, (which however should never be carried so far as to destroy the cadence entirely (M)) and the indulgence of one, and sometimes even of two [N] redundant fyllables, is best calculated for the drama; and that the stanza of Spenser, the elegiac stanza, or any kind of lyric measure, is unfit for the epopee. From the descriptive parts of the Paradife Loft, from Thomson's Seafons, and Mason's English Garden, we may fafely say, that heroic blank verse is admirably fitted for defcriptive poetry, but L'Allegro and Il Penferofo, and Grongar Hill, forbid [M] As accent is the efficient of our versification, I consider a license of this kind equivalent to the making a false quantity in ancient verse. See Chap. XXII. Note [c] on the tranflation. [N] This license is to be exercised with moderation. Thomson uses it sometimes. Outrage not my breaking heart To that degree-I cannot-'tis impoffible." TANCRED AND SIGISMUNDA. As Rowe alfo does, one of the smoothest of our dramatic poets. • And plead till death the cause of injur'd innocence.' Nay even Milton has assumed this liberty in heroic blank verse. JANE SHORE. • For folitude fometimes is best society.' PARADISE LOST, B. Ix. v. 249. Perhaps these verses may be confidered as Alexandrines, with this distinction, that the rhymed Alexandrine feldom ends with a trifsyllable, and the dramatic Alexandrine, I believe, never with a monofyllable. us
POETIC OF ARISTOTLE. us to say it is exclusive. Of the comparative fitness of heroic blank verse, and rhymed verse for the epopee, I shall speak presently. But I will first mention some cases in which I think our choice of particular measures for particular kinds of poetry is guided by other principles than the nature of the verse itself. In Note 1. on Chap. Iv. I have quoted a passage from Mr. Twining, in which he observes how much the power of mufic, in raising particular emotions, depends on the temper of the mind. In confequence of which notion I have hazarded some ideas of my own as to the power of combination on musical effect. Now as the powers of verse [o], unconnected with intelligent language, are very weak indeed, if they exist at all, and the power of music in the same situation is universally felt and acknowledged; it must follow that the power of verse must solely depend on the intelligent words it is connected with, and where no cause obviously natural, (like that of iambics for ancient, and the loofer blank verse for modern tragedy from their colloquial style,) can be [o] I am speaking of modern verse, and ancient verse only as we pronounce it, entirely neglecting the quantity. There is a curious observation of Lord Monboddo on this head. • It is nevertheless true, that notwithstanding the injustice we do Greek and Latin poetry in • pronunciation, it still pleases even our ear more than any modern poetry. It is a matter • of some curiofity to know how this happens; and I believe it might be accounted for ⚫ otherwise than from the prejudice that some people imagine we have in favour of the anci- ، ents; and a system of ancient prosody (I use the word in the common acceptation) might • be given, according to which we actually read their poetry, very different indeed from the • [real] ancient prosody, but more agreeable to that of our own language.' ORIGIN AND PROGRESS OF Language, Part 11. Book 11. Chap. VI. page 335. Perhaps on strict examination the accentual cadence of all Latin verse will be found nearly allied to fome of our own measures. See the preceding remarks on Sapphic verse.. pointed
pointed out, the particular propriety of one sort of verse for one fort of compofition, very often depends on custom, and our own association of ideas, which on hearing a particular kind of verse naturally recalls the fubject with which it has usually been connected. Mr. Twining observes, (Note 8) that we should be much surprized • didactic and philofophic poem to find it written in the fame measure with ' on opening a " Jolly mortals fill your glasses." We certainly should from never having seen such an attempt; but if one of our best and earliest didactic poems had been written in this meafure, it does not appear why it might not, from this association, have been esteemed peculiarly adapted to the subject. That the verse itself implies no levity will be sufficiently obvious when we open the Il Penferofo of Milton, and read, • Hail thou goddess, sage and holy, • Hail divinest melancholy.' A collation of this poem and Hudibras will clearly shew that the same measure may be applied to the most opposite subjects. Our triple measures also, (which those who are fond of giving ancient names to modern things may if they please call anapæstics) [P] Mr. Mitford observes) ' equally and peculiarly suited to the expref- • fion of riotous mirth and soft melancholy. Of this every mifcellaneous collection of ballads will convince us. are, (as [P] Effay on Harmony of Language, Sect. xI. page 189. In
POETIC OF ARISTOTLE. In regard to our elegiac verse, (whether from this kind of prejudice or not I will not presume to say,) it appears fingularly fitted for its fubject; though Dr. Johnson observes it is difficult to say 'why Hammond • and other writers have thought the quatrain of ten syllables elegiac.' A stanza that has been pronounced by Dryden, whose knowledge of English metre was not inconfiderable, to be the most magnificent of • all the measures which our language affords.' To the authority of Dryden, (whose ear for the harmony of English verfification demands a bolder panegyric than Dr. Johnfon has here given it,) I bow with respect, though in this case not with conviction; as the (2) only poem in that measure written by Dryden, which should confirm this assertion, certainly does not. And as for Dr. Johnson himself, however I may admire his literary character in general, as an arbiter in poetical matters, I cannot submit implicitly to the authority of the critic who wrote the lives of Gray and Milton. I am now entering on a part of my subject where I must proceed with great caution, from the neceffity of mistrusting our own judgment in opinions where perhaps we may mistake prejudice in favour of a particular hypothefis for conviction; especially when the tide of popular opinion is strongly against that hypothesis. I mean the preference of rhymed or unrhymed heroic verse for the English epopee. Indeed the predilection (I will not venture to call it prejudice,) in favor of the latter is so strong, that many of the most refpectable critics of our country have boldly pronounced in unqualified terms, that rhymed verse is totally inadequate to the purpose of epic composition. [Q] ANNUS MIRABILIS.
We have only one original work in our language which can with any propriety be classed with the regular epopee. A work of fuch transcendent merit that hardly any general rule as to its proper material can be laid down from the example of a poet, whose genius was capable of overcoming every difficulty; especially when we see that material employed with undoubted excellence, and wonderful effect, in those offices, where it has universally sunk under in every other hand, we are hardly authorized in imputing that excellence to the nature of the material rather than to the fuperior skill of the poet. Milton in the fimplest parts of his poem, (the opening of the Paradise Loft is an admirable example,) has been able to keep up the dignity of blank verse without inflation, and to preserve (R) the equal tone of unornamented narration without descending into meanness of style, which certainly has never been attempted with success by any fucceeding writer. In most parts of the descriptive poems of Thomson and Mason we fee indeed original verse and propriety of style, but in every attempt at heroic imitation, Milton's manner has been so copied, or rather caricatured, that we are frequently reminded of the burlesque poem of the Splendid Shilling rather than of a serious work [s]. [R] That Milton's style sometimes rises into turgidity, and sometimes sinks into meanness, cannot be denied by his greatest admirers; but to maintain an unremitted excellence of verfification throughout so long a poem, was perhaps beyond the effort of human excellence. Besides, when Milton introduced scripture language, which his subject frequently led him to do, he seems to have been defirous of keeping not only the words but even the arrangement of them as closely as possible to our prose translation of the Bible.. [s] This mode of imitating Milton's manner, (and which perhaps we can hardly blame, as all deviation from excellence tends to corruption of style,) is followed in some degree by most poets who use blank verse, for whatever kind of compofition. But the author of Lewfden Hill has shewn, that the simpler style of Shakespear's dramatic Pentameter may occasionally be transferred to the heroic. To
POETIC OF ARISTOTLE. To draw the comparison between the fitness of rhymed and unrhymed verse for the epopee with accuracy, is absolutely impossible from the circumstance already mentioned of our having but one regular original epic poem in our language. A circumstance we furely need not be ashamed of, since Greece boasted only of two, and Rome could not pride herself on one, for to originality the Æneid has no pretence. We have however a copy of the works of Homer of great and acknowledged merit; I mean Pope's Homer, which is in itself one of the most beautiful poems in any language. And after all, what is the great consequence of its want of fidelity to the original [T]). The beauties of Homer are not tranffusible by any translation; and he who wishes to fee all and only all that he really says, without understanding Greek, should confult a literal prose verfion. To quote the words of a much celebrated critic. You may translate books of science exactly. You may translate history, in * so far as it is not embellished with oratory, which is poetical. Poetry ⚫ cannot be translated, and therefore it is the poets that preferve lan- ، guage: for we would not be at the trouble to learn a language if we • could have all that is written in it just as well in a translation. But ، as beauties of poetry cannot be preserved in any language except that • in which it was originally written, we learn the language.' BosWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON, Vol. II. p. 62. In the same valuable and entertaining work is the following dialogue. ' I mentioned the vulgar saying • that Pope's Homer was not a good representation of the original. JOHNSON. Sir, it is the greatest work of the kind that ever was pro- “duced. BosWELL. The truth is it is impofssible perfectly to tranflate poetry. In a different language it may be the same tune, but it has not the fame note. " “ Homer plays on a bassoon, Pope on a flagelet. [T] See Note 1. on this chapter. 3 P2 "HARRIS.
"HARRIS. I think heroic poetry is best in blank verse: yet it appears " that rhyme is essential to English poetry from our deficiency in metri- "cal quantities. In my opinion, the chief excellence of our language is numerous prose [U]." IBID. 207. “ As the exclufive propriety of rhymed or unrhymed verse for the epopee has been often argued on the ground of the unfitness of rhymed verse for a tranflation of Homer, and the supposed failure of Pope on that account; and as we now possess what has been long a defideratum in literature, a blank verse translation of Homer by a poet of allowed merit, I shall confine my remarks on this subject to an enquiry into the respective fitness of rhyme and blank verse for a tranflation of Homer. In this I shall not compare particular passages of Mr. Cowper and Pope, or draw any invidious comparisons between their general execution of the work. I shall only endeavour to thew, why I think the inability of rhyme to execute a faithful tranflation of Homer, as far as any poetical tranflation can be faithful, is unfounded, and that the (sometimes wanton) deviations of Pope from the sense and spirit of his original, did not proceed from any fault in the species of verfification he adopted. As Mr. Cowper in the preface to his Homer has collected most of the objections to rhymed verse which have been made, and which certainly gain fuperior weight from his adoption of them as well as from his own additional remarks, I shall attempt to answer them as much as poffible in the fame order in which they are there inferted. [U] In this strange and contradictory opinion of Mr. Harris we trace the quaint decision of one of our old authors, I forget which, That writers in verse were the best kind of writers • next to the writers in profe.' Mr.
POETIC OF ARISTOTLE. Mr. Cowper's first objection to rhyme as a mode of translating an ancient poet, if allowed, precludes all farther contest on the subject effectually ;-that it is impossible. • No human ingenuity,' he says, 'can • be equal to the task of closing every couplet with founds homotonous, ، expreffing at the same time the full sense, and only the full sense of the ' original.' In this I perfectly agree with him; if a literal translation is meant it must be in literal prose; and where Virgil has copied Homer most nearly, he certainly might have done it still more nearly, had he rendered the original word for word; but there is a spirit and style to be copied as well as the exact words, and to do this, some degree of paraphrafe is oftentimes necessary; and the real sense of an author, efpecially a poet, is often never so much misrepresented as by too faithful a tranflation. However in this free translation which is certainly meant, I cannot conceive English rhymed verse would have more difficulty to encounter than Latin Hexameters, the measure which a Roman tranflator of Homer would undoubtedly have chosen. The cesure, the pause [w], and the concluding Adonic, mark the boundary of the verse as much as our homotonous endings, and I should suppose were to the full as great a restraint on the poet. In short, if the only advantage blank verse has over rhymed in the translation of an ancient poet is conveying the author's meaning more clearly, it must imply, what Mr. Cowper is far from [w] In the smoother Latin poets, with very few exceptions indeed, the pause falls immediately after the first syllable of the third foot, dividing the verse into two hemistichs, which is indeed the foundation of the monkish rhymed verses. Aulus Gellius says of Varro, L. xvIII. Chap. xv. Scribit observasse se in verfu hexametro quod omnimodo quintus semipes, i. e. prior pedis tertii fyllaba, verbum finiret. We must observe not to confound the metrical pause with the pause in the sense. There can be no metrical pause so strong as the end of a verse, where the sense often requires none. allowing,
allowing, that blank verse is of more ealy compofition than rhymed, and on that principle prose would be preferable to either. the fame reasoning holds. The poet who is mastered by his material, As to the diftinction made between original composition and translation, and inftead of bending his rhyme to his will is obliged to make his thoughts wait on his rhyme, is indeed mastered by what he ought to command. This certainly was not the cafe with Pope, he knew [x]
• to make coy rhyme • Renounce her follies and with sense keep time; • To make proud sense against her nature bend • And wear the chains of rhyme, yet call her friend.' CHURCHILL. Mr. Cowper in his preface also speaks in favor of occafional harsh lines as producing variety in a long work. I believe such beauties are not often difscoverable either in Homer or Virgil. If they are too frequently found in [Y] Milton they are the less excusable, as no poet, ancient or modern, a command [x] The shackles of rhyme have been almost universally pleaded in excuse for the infidelities in Pope's tranflation of Homer. Will it be said that Pope had as great a skill in the Greek language as he had Odyssey, in the first note on this chapter, originate from the fetters of rhyme? Was it rhyme that caused him to omit the amiable character given by Helen of Priam, in the twenty-fourth Iliad, or to dilate so much beyond the original the beautiful fimile on the Trojan fires in the over rhymed verse ? eighth ? So equal do I esteem rhymed verse to a faithful tranflation of Homer, that I think it would be no very arduous task for a good verfifier, well skilled in the original, to render Did the faults pointed out in the Pope's Homer as faithful a copy of the original as a tranflation can possibly be. [Y] Perhaps Milton was led into this by a defire of imitating the bolder license of the Italian poets, as we are told by Servius, Virgil once adopted the Greek accentuation in a Latin verse. Caftorea
POETIC OF ARISTOTLE. modern, ever knew so well how to vary his cadence and produce variety of rhythm in verses equally melodious. There is a deviation from the usual arrangement of the accent (in which blank verse has greatly the fuperiority over rhyme) which has often the finest effect, but there is such a deviation also as is destructive of the essence of verfification. Can any pleasure arise from the contraft of such a line as this of Milton? • To the garden of bliss thy feat prepar'd.' Which, contrary to the rule given to Monf. Jourdain, is neither verse nor profe. To the cadence of the heroic pentameter it has no pretence except in the two last feet; and the fix first syllables form a verse consisting of two feet, triple measure, exactly resembling the finale of Midas, • To the bright god of day • Let us fing, dance and play.' Mr. Cowper afterwards observes, that he cannot but add an observa- • tion on the fimilitude between the manner of Milton and Homer,' and this he exemplifies in those breaks and pauses in which the English poet has copied the Grecian. Addison makes the same observation. This is not a question of opinion but of fact. And whoever will read the Iliad and Odyssey through, attentive to this particular circumstance, will be convinced that the break in the middle of a line is very far from being the • Castorea Eliadum palmas EPIROS equarum." On this Servius remarks, Epiros is here a Greek word, on which account the E is accented.. • For if it had been in the Latin form, Epirus or Epiri, the accent must have fallen on pi
characteristic of Homer's style [z]; and where a line is broken it is in a very different manner from the breaks in Milton. In Milton we sometimes fee many successive verses without the smallest pause in the sense at their end; and the close of a blank verse, except the next verse begins with a foot whose first syllable is accented, can be no otherwise defined, and often runs into the succeeding line. (A) But in Homer, besides the cesure and the concluding Adonic, which (according to our mode of reading at least, by Latin accent) marks the boundary of each separate verse precisely, I believe there are hardly two lines together without a flight pause marking the end of the verse, in both his poems: a circumstance which gives a general cadence more resembling Pope's rhymed couplet than the blank verse of Milton (B). The break in these lines Αυτάρ [z] More instances occur in the first hundred lines of the Iliad than in any other part of the poem of three times the length. [A] By this defect the divisions of lines are sometimes arbitrary in our blank verse, of which Milton affords several examples. These lines, • What place can be for us • Within heav'n's bound, unless heav'n's Lord fupreme • We over-power? Suppose he should relent • And publish grace to all, on promise made • Of new fubjection.'-PARADISE LOST, Book II. v. 255. This may as well be written, ، What place can be for us within heav'n's bound, • Unless heav'n's Lord supreme we over-power? • Suppose he should relent and publish grace • To all, on promise made of new subjection.' [B] Blank verse is capable of a high degree of melody without these breaks, as will appear from the example of two of our dramatic Poets. First in Rowe's Jane Shore. O that
POETIC OF ARISTOTLE. Αυθὰρ ἔπειτ᾿ ἀυλοῖσι βέλος ἐχεπευκὲς ἐφιεὶς, Βἀλλ᾽, –ἀιεὶ δὲ πυρὰι νεκύων καίονλο θαμειαί. resembles more a break in a rhymed couplet than a Miltonic verse. And if Pope did not imitate it exactly it was his own neglect, not the deficiency of his material; for in his Temple of Fame he has a couplet exactly resembling it. • Amphion there the loud creating lyre ، Struck, and behold a fudden Thebes aspire.' O that my tongue had every grace of speech, • Great and commanding as the breath of kings, Sweet as the poet's numbers, and prevailing As foft perfuafion to a love-sick maid; That I had art and eloquence divine • To pay my duty to my master's ashes, • And plead till death the cause of injured innocence.' And in Shakespear's King John, If lusty love should go in quest of beauty, • Where should he find it fairer than in Blanche? • If zealous love should go in search of virtue, • Where should he find it purer than in Blanche ? • If love ambitious fought a match of honor, • Whose veins bound richer blood than Lady Blanche's? • Such as she is in beauty, virtue, birth, • Such is the Dauphin, every way compleat; • He is the half-part of a blessed man • Left to be finished by such a she; • And she a fair divided excellence • Whose fulness of perfection lies in him. • O, two fuch filver currents when they join, • Do glorify the banks that bound them in.' In
In regard to the comparative difficulty between writing good rhymed and good blank verse, I submit implicitly to the author of the TASK. Whatever the difficulties may be he has effectually surmounted them [c]; and in one of the most entertaining and most original poems in our language, he has employed blank verse with success on every subject, to which verse of any kind could properly be applied. After all, the difficulties he points out in blank verse are perhaps still more confpicuous in the compofition of a good and harmonious style in profe. To invent a good cadence where only vague, and often contradictory rules are given, is more difficult than to follow known rules well. However easy it may be to rhyme, it is still more easy to write blank verse, that is, to put ten syllables in a line, with the accent falling on alternate fyllables ; and might not a prose writer say, and with justice too, ' [D] many orna- ، ments of no easy purchase are required to atone for the absence of this • single recommendation.' How many do we find who can imitate with [c] Dr. Johnson is of the fame opinion with Mr. Cowper as to the superior difficulty of unrhymed to rhymed verse. • In blank verse the language suffered more by distortion to keep it ' out of prose, than any inconvenience or limitation to be apprehended from the shackles and • circumscription of rhyme.' BoSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON, Vol. 1. p. 342. If this observation of Mr. Cowper and Dr. Johnson is just, it entirely confutes the first objection to a rhymed tranflation of Homer. [D] Is not the difference between prose and verse in fome measure illustrated by the following observation of Mr. Gilpin on forest scenery? Though every animal is distinguished • from its fellow by some little variation of color, character, or shape, yet in all the larger parts, ⚫ in the body and limbs, the resemblance is generally exact. In trees it is just the reverse. The • smaller parts, the spray, the leaves, the blossom, and the feed, are the fame in all trees of the ، fame kind, while the larger parts, from which the most beautiful varieties result, are wholly ، different. You never fee two oaks with an equal number of limbs, the fame kind of head, or ⚫ twisted in the same form. However, as variety is not alone fufficient to give fuperiority to the tree, we give the preference on the whole to animal life." tolerable
POETIC OF ARISTOTLE. tolerable success the verse of Milton and Pope; of Homer and of Virgil: but who has ever given a fhadow of a resemblance to the style of Xenophon or Addison? Cicero and Dr. Johnson are strong mannerists (I do not mean to compare their styles in any other light) and therefore more eafily caricatured. One of the essential requifites of verfification, as is well observed by a late writer [E], arises from a judicious mixture of uniformity and variety; the first arising from the essential rules of the art, the other from the variation of pause, cadence, &c. The favourers of rhyme think blank verse too loose as to the former; and their opponents (among whom is the gentleman I have quoted, and who carries his objection to [F] hexameters also,) think rhymed verse too closely confined by the former. Mr. Cowper, as well as Spence, in his Essay on Pope's Odyssey, seem to think Pope would have done better to have given His tranflation in blank verse. It is well for his literary character that he did not attempt it. We have a story grounded indeed only on the problematical authority of Voltaire, that Pope, on being asked why Milton did not write his Paradife Loft in rhyme, answered Because he could not.' The answer would have come with more propriety from him, had he been asked, why he did not tranflate Homer into blank verse. For Pope never had tried that species of compofition; but the rhymed verse alone of Milton [E] Essay on Versification, in the first volume of Essays on Subjects Philosophical Historical and Literary. [F] As to myself I acknowledge, that however superior the hexameter may be to the heroic ، couplet, in other respects the perpetual recurrence of the dactyl and spondee is more fatiguing ⚫ to my ear, than what Dryden calls the tinkle in the close of the couplet.' IBID. 3Q2 would
would have placed him very high among the English poets, had his Paradife Loft never appeared. To conclude this subject. As I am confcious so many great names are against me, I shall not pretend to establish my own opinion by any general inference drawn from what I have faid in the course of my discussion of it, but leave it to make what impression it may on the mind of the reader. I shall however in part shelter my opinion under the authority of two most respectable critics. Mr. Addison in the Spectator, No. 285, allows that even Milton has been too free in the use of those methods which Ariftotle has prescribed for the elevation of style, and which he imputes to the nature of his verse, adding that 'where verse is not built upon rhymes, there pomp of found, and energy of expreffion, are indispenfibly necessary to support the style and keep it from falling into the • flatness of profe.' And Dr. Beattie, in his Essay on Laughter and Ludicrous Compofition, Chap. 11. makes this observation. • One end • of rhymes in modern poetry is to diftinguish it more effectually from profe: the Greeks and Romans diftinguished theirs by the measure • and by the compofition, on which the genius of their languages allowed • them to bestow innumerable graces, in respect of arrangement, harmony, and variety, whereof the best modern tongues from the irregularity of their structure, and particularly from their want of inflexion, are but moderately fufceptible; and therefore of rhyme, as a mark of • distinction, our poetry may sometimes stand in need, though theirs ' did not. In fact we find that blank verse, except when the want of rhyme is compensated, as it is in Milton by the harmony and variety • of the composition, can never have a good effect in our HEROIC poetry.' I confefs I think our rhymed verfification declining since the time of Pope, who perhaps carried it to its highest possible pitch of excellence; all
POETIC OF ARISTOTLE. all deviation from which must be corruption. This is the cafe with all the fine arts; and Genius itself is the cause of their degenerating. Great talents will not condescend to imitate; and in deviating from perfect models they deviate also from perfection itself, on which account the fine arts are seldom long stationary; they are almost continually either in a progressive or a declining state. Had a poet of fuperior genius to Virgil lived subsequently to him, he would certainly not have been contented to copy his verfification; in which cafe if he could not excel him, he must have corrupted the style of Roman poetry: and from such attempts it was at last corrupted. There appears to me a stiffness, an affected pomposity, an attempt at something not perfectly natural, in the general texture of the rhymed pentameter at present.
24.5.
mvp-aristotle-comment-105
24.14
THOUGH WONDER OUGHT TO BE EXCITED BY TRAGEDY, YET THINGS CONTRARY TO REASON, WHICH EXCITE WONDER IN THE HIGHEST DEGREE, ARE BETTER ADMITTED IN THE EPOPEE, FROM THE ACTION NOT BEING PLACED BEFORE THE EYES.
HOW much tragedy is affected by this rule, has been shewn in the seventeenth chapter, from the unsuccessful drama of Carcinus. The critic here shews how far the epopee may venture in this cafe without incurring the same censure. The example he produces is the flight of Hector and the pursuit of Achilles in the Iliad, which may be tolerated in the epopee though not in the drama. I cannot
I cannot possibly conceive, as is suggested by Mr. Twining, that the idea of stopping an army by the nod of a head, could be the absurdity meant here, as being more apparent in the representation than the recital; or that there could have been any thing more absurd in an army stopping at a nod of the head on the theatre, than by the single word, halt, in Hyde Park. The defect mentioned by Aristotle certainly lay deeper; for he in the next chapter mentions this identical circumstance as a general error against probability, excusable only as it renders the scene more interesting. [G] To us who are used to the point of honor in military affairs this improbability does not appear. But the ancients made war on a different plan. Besides from the fize of our armies, and our mode of carrying on war, one man can be of little consequence in the decifion of a national dispute: but the loss of Hector was like the capture of a fleet, or the deftruction of an army. A general, or an admiral, [G] The author of the Effay on the dramatic Character of Falstaff has related the following curious anecdote, to shew what little notion the American savages have of our point of honor. • In the laft war, (printed 1777) some Indians of America perceiving a line of Highlanders to • keep their station under every difadvantage, and under a fire which they could not effectually return, conjectured, from observation on the habit and stability of those troops, that they were • indeed the women of England who wanted courage to run away.' The Abbe Terrafson, with the true prejudice of his country-men, who can fee no manners natural that are not French, hypercriticizes the criticism of Aristotle, 'who,' he says, 'being always confufed ⚫ in his ideas, cites as an example of the abfurdly marvellous, the pursuit of Hector by Achilles, • who made figns to the Greeks not to throw their darts at the Trojan hero, that he might ⚫ have the fole glory of killing him; an act very fimple and very natural. It is fingular enough, that as the Greeks were no favourites with the feudal writers on the Trojan war, they have actually changed this very fact; and to depreciate the warlike character of Achilles, have made him do what Ariftole and Plutarch censure him for not having done. See Shakespear's Troilus and Creffida, and Mr. Stevens's note, mentioning the writers-from whom the story was principally taken. who
POETIC OF ARISTOTLE. who were to hazard the national posterity by a point of honor (as Admiral Vernon is faid to have done at Porto-bello, by sending away a ship because he had faid, in the House of Commons, he would take that place with only fix ships) would be now universally censured; and that the ancients looked on this action of Achilles in the same light is plain, from a remark on it in Plutarch's Life of Pompey, where, speaking of a rash action of Pompey in assisting the Cretan pirates merely to deprive Metellus of a triumph; he compares this action with it, which he calls rather the exploit of a mad boy intoxicated with the love of fame, than of a brave man. But (with deference to the opinion of Plutarch) it does not appear that Achilles was actuated by the love of fame, but the wish to monopolize the revenge of his friend's death. His feelings refembled those of Macduff when he fays, • If thou be'st slain and with no stroke of mine, My wife and children's ghosts will haunt me still.' How much this absurdity will be encreased by the representation, appears from the [H] Regent, where the atrocity of the crimes committed renders Manuel no object on which to exercise this point of honor. The impropriety in a narration, and even in the printed play, does not strike us; but when we fee the duke and the ufurper engaged hand to hand before the ladies of the court, and the duke's armed friends, we are at once struck with it. There is an instance of forgetfulness in point of propriety, in the seventh Iliad, which I believe has escaped all the commentators, but [H] Note 1. Chap. XVII,
which in a drama would have been instantly discovered. Hector challenges one of the Greek chiefs to engage in single combat with him, in the front of both armies, just as they are on the point of engaging. (See verse 61 of the original, 69 of Pope.) And yet though the scene continues in the front of both armies, when Menelaus accepts the challenge, and when the lot falls afterwards on Ajax, they are both represented as arming for the fight, not by seizing again the sword, the spear, and the shield which they might have laid aside, but by dressing themselves in Menelaus says, armour. [1] My corflet! 'gainst the chief myself will go, • Heaven as it lift the victory bestow.' And afterwards [K] ' His manly limbs in shining arms he drest.' POPE, V. 120. And of Ajax it is faid, [L] Now Ajax brac'd his dazzling armor on, • Sheath'd in bright steel the giant warrior shone.' POPE, V. 249. In Goldsmith's novel of the Vicar of Wakefield there is a striking instance of impropriety arising from negligence. Sir William Thornhill the lover of the youngest daughter of Primrose, is all along [1] Τῶδε δ᾽ ἐγὼν ἀυτὸς θωρήξομαι. As Mr. Pope deviates here from his original, I am forced to deviate from him. [K] Original 103. [L] Original 245. represented
POETIC OF ARISTOTLE. represented as in the vigour of youth [M]; and yet he must have been at least old enough to be father to his nephew, who cannot be supposed the fon of an elder brother as the title and family eftate belong to the uncle.
24.6.
mvp-aristotle-comment-106
24.15
WHOEVER RELATES ANY FACT IS APT TO ADD SOMETHING MARVELLOUS TO GRATIFY THE HEARERS.
ARISTOTLE exemplifies here the position he has laid down, as to the pleasure that arifes from the marvellous, by a circumstance which we need no ghost to tell us, is often given to their stories by those who profess to relate real facts. And this not only by fimple narrators in common conversation, but by grave historians who relate the events of nations, and make serious and political reflections on the incidents they record. Of this Herodotus has been accused, but I think, not with fufficient justice; or if he has been a little too [N] attentive in listening to, and [M] A man turned of forty may certainly be strong and vigorous and have suffered little from the attacks of time: but a man of that age is not very likely, in real life, to gain the affections of a very young woman; and in fiction, which should copy general probability and not bare possibility, a man old enough to be a grandfather should not be made a successful lover. In many of our comedies an impropriety exactly opposite to this occurs. The old man of the piece, who is generally the father of the fine gentleman or fine lady of the drama, is drawn perfectly decrepid and bent down by all the infirmities of age, more like the great-grandfather than the father of a youth of twenty-one or a girl of eighteen. [N] That Herodotus was not credulous of every marvellous story he heard we have a very curious proof in his fourth book, (Melpomene) where he gives an account of the circumnavigation of Africa, by a fleet of Phoenicians fitted out by order of Necus, king of Egypt. 3 R Thefe
and too lavish in relating some wonderful tales current among the nations he visited (for a man could not in his time become acquainted with the history of foreign nations by reading in his study), yet his impartiality in relating the disgraces of his own country, as well as of her enemies, though it incurred the cenfure of the partial Plutarch, might I think have rescued him from the farcafm of the Roman poet, the earlier history of whose country contains an improbable series of almost continual success, [o] and puts one in mind of a bragging school-boy who can beat all the rest of the school however much they may be older and bigger than himself. The first check that Roman egotism received, was from a confciousness that their fables would be detected by a communication with the historians of this Græcia mendax,'' this nation of lyars,' and especially Polybius [P]. These men affirmed, that as they failed round the coast of Africa (from the Red Sea to the straits of Gibraltar) the fun was on their right hand, i. e. to the north of them. Now we know this must have been the fact, but it was too much for the faith of Herodotus, who says expressly this is incredible to me whatever it may be to others. This passage is particularly worthy of remark, as it proves that the Cape of Good Hope had been doubled at a very early period of the art of navigation. [o] Shenstone compares the Roman history to a romance, where we are always so sure of finding the hero of the piece victorious, that we lose the pleasure arifing from expectation. [P] There is a dissertation in Livy on what would have been the event had Alexander turned his arms against Rome. In his time the Romans had never looked out of Italy. When Hannibal invaded Italy they had engaged with foreign armies and were infinitely more powerful. But had Hannibal been an independent sovereign with the resources of Alexander, inftead of the general of a commercial and jealous republic, in all human probability the Roman hiftory would have ended with the second Punic war.. Voltaire
POETIC OF ARISTOTLE. Voltaire in his Questions sur l'Encyclopedie, Art. Histoire, seems to favor this partiality. He says that the famous canon laid down by Cicero for history, Ne quid falsi dicere audeat, ne quid veri non audeat,' is to be understood with some limitation, and asks, Is it the duty of the hiftorian to relate facts that may be imparted to him in confidence? Clearly not; for it certainly is the first duty of an historian, as of every body else, to be an honest man. But here Voltaire treats Cicero as he has treated Shakespear; first misrepresents his meaning, and then argues from that misrepresentation. He translates the precept thus, ' Que l'Historien n'ofe • dire une fausseté ni cacher une verité.' 'That the historian should not • dare to speak a falsehood, or conceal a truth. But this is by no means the sense of the original, which does not either express or imply, that there is no truth however foreign to public events, that hiftory should dare to conceal; but that there is no truth it should not dare to speak, which can relate only to fuch truths which it is the province of hiftory to relate. Indeed the annalist of his own times, who alone can be in the situation supposed by Voltaire, can never have the impartiality requifite for an historian. Lucian, in his Essay on the Manner in which History should be written, strongly and convincingly infifts on this impartiality. • If the historian has a private pique against any persons, it is the more necessary for him to esteem himself as a public character and to pay more regard to truth than his own enmity. And if he has a particular regard for any persons on the fame principle, he should not conceal their ⚫ crimes. There is in short only one thing, as I have faid, peculiar to • history, and to which alone it should facrifice, TRUTH [Q].' [Q] Κ᾿ὰν ἰδία μισῆ τίνας, πολὺ ἀναζκαὶολερον ἡγήσεῖαι τὸ κοινὸν, καὶ τὴν ἀλήθειαν περὶ πλείονας ποιήσεῖαι τῆς ἔχθρας. Κ᾿ὰν φιλῆ ὅμως ἐκ ἀφέξεῖαι ἁμαριάνονλος· ἙΝ γὰρ, ὡς ἔφην τῦτο, ἴδιον Ἱσορίας, καὶ μόνη θυζέον ΤΗ. ΑΛΗΘΕΙΑ، 3 R2 There
There is another kind of marvellous in which the historians are apt to imitate the poets. They will sometimes a little mistate a fact to make it more interesting. If Macbeth falls in the same battle in which Macduff, who has fuffered the greatest injuries from him, happens to be engaged on the opposite side, the poet, to give a stronger effect to the incident, makes him die by his hand; and so because Gryllus a son of Xenophon fell in the fame battle with Epaminondas, Paufanius has made the latter fall by the former, though neither Xenophon, who concludes his history with an account of that battle, nor any other historian, mention such an event [R].. It is curious to trace the progress of the marvellous from a dark to an enlightened age; and to observe how a love for it will prevail in spite of the fewer sources which a more minute and general notion of cause and effect leave it. Superftition, with all its attendant train of witches, ghosts and fairies, formerly afforded an exhaustless supply of this kind of entertainment. And even at this time a tale of any preternatural appearance will not fail to fix our attention strongly, though it will not win our belief; and even the best and most popular of modern [s] writers will fometimes infert such narratives in their works, which certainly is not done with the intent, nor has it the effect, of displeasing their readers. Natural history seized the ground that superstition was forced to abandon, and phyfical fucceeded to metaphysical wonder. The various properties of matter, the natural miracles revealed to us by the telescope and the microscope, the investigation of volcanoes and their effects, the wonder-- ful operations of electricity, and the secrets of chymistry attract the curio- [R] I am surprised that Spelman in his Life of Xenophon, should mention this as an indif putable fact. [s] See Observer, No. 71. and Andrews's Anecdotes. fity
POETIC OF ARISTOTLE. fity so strongly, that with now and then a little [T] touch of the marvellous to heighten the effect, they supply the place of dreams, omens and apparitions. There is a curious observation in a Tract of Bishop Warburton, entitled [U] AN ENQUIRY INTO THE CAUSES OF PRODIGIES AND MI- RACLES AS RELATED BY HISTORIANS, which is so applicable to this subject that I shall infert it. * But, not to be over fond of an hypothesis, I sha'nt fcruple to con- * fess, that [v] truth may in fome cases beget admiration. [T] Sometimes however the marvellous is not quite so gentle in its touches, witness Animal Magnetism, and the great popularity of Lavater's book. In spite of the most enlightened philosophy, the human mind has a strong tendency to the monkish rant, Credo quod impoffibile.' [U] See Tracts by Warburton anda Warburtonian, page 87. [v] The science of astronomy ventures some times to the verge of the marvellous as in this extract. We inhabit a planet of a ftratum belonging to a compound nebula of the third form. In the crowded part of the milky way I have had fields of view that contained no less than 588 • stars, and these were continued for many minutes, so that in one quarter of an hour's time there * passed through my field of view, no fewer than 116,000 stars. Among the great number of nebulæ which I have already seen, amounting to more than 900, there are many which in all probability are equally extensive with that which we inhabit, and yet they are all separated from each other by confiderable intervals. That the milky way is a most extensive stratum of stars ⚫ of various fizes admits no longer of the least doubt; THAT OUR SUN IS ACTUALLY ONE OF THE HEAVENLY BODIES BELONGING TO IT, IS EVIDENT.' HERSCHEL. Philof. Tranf. Vol. lxxv. for 1785, quoted in a note on No. 119, of the octavo edition of the Tatler, 1789. This, in fact, is a position that may be relatively either true or false. To those parts of the universe between which and our fun the milky way is interposed it seems TRUE, to every other fituation FALSE. • First
، ، ، First mathematical truths, especially if new-invented theorems, will raise it in a very high degree. Witness the old mathematician who hit upon a confiderable discovery as he was bathing; and in an extasy and transport of mind, ran home naked through the streets. But how observable is it here, that even in a truth it is its seeming conformity to error that produces this admiration, by the common way of novelty • and furprize.' ،
24.7.
mvp-aristotle-comment-107
24.20
HOMER ALSO WAS THE BEST INSTRUCTOR HOW TO INTRODUCE SPECIOUS FALLACIES BY MEANS OF FALSE REASONING.
HOWEVER invelloped in darkness this passage is, it must I imagine, have fome relation with that in the fixteenth chapter, [w] where a discovery by false reasoning is mentioned. I think the meaning of this passage receives also some elucidation from what has been quoted from Agatho in Chapter XVIII. [x] about probable improbability, and which is again mentioned here in a fentence which almost immediately succeeds that we are now confidering. But Aristotle has enlarged still more on this in his Rhetoric, L. 11. Ch. xxiv. As for the application of this principle of false reasoning here to poetic fiction, Mr. Twining's note gives the clearest solution of it, and I perfectly think with him, that it relates to the skill of the poet, who when he forms wonderful and uncommon characters, or incidents, makes [w] See Note v. Chap. xvI. [x] See Note VII. on that chapter. their
495. POETIC OF ARISTOTLE. their actions and effects seem so clearly the natural and probable consequences of them, that the hearer, finding them so confonant with general truth, while he yields to the delusion of the tale, (Y) can perceive no absurdity in the first fictitious caufe. This conduct of the poet is no where better exemplified than in the preternatural beings of Shakespear [z]. I do not any where remember a fabulous and marvellous invention kept up in all its relations and consequences with such minute and attentive accuracy as in Swift's Voyages to Lilliput and Brobdignag. The relative fize of the inhabitants being once mentioned, the comparative dimension of their furniture, plants, animals, &c. is adhered to with almost mathematical precision. In one of the poems prefixed to Gulliver's Travels, entitled the Tears of Glumdatditch, the reader may see this consistency as grossly violated, where in two lines Gulliver, who is said a little before to be of stature scarce a span, hunts a mite, fights a nut maggot, and carries a tea-cup on his head like a milk pail.. [Y] Of this pleasing delufion Plutarch speaks in the highest terms in his TREATISE ON THE MANNER IN WHICH YOUNG MEN OUGHT TO READ THE POETS.. " In this was every art and every charm "To win the wisest and the coldest warm." POPE'S ILIAD, L. XIV. v. 247; original 216. • The deceptions of this art cannot affect the stupid and the foolish; and therefore Simonides being asked why the Thessalians were the only people of Greece whom he could not deceive, • answered because they were too ignorant to be deceived. And Gorgias defined tragedy as a • delufion, wherein the person who deluded was juster than those who did not, and persons who, were deluded wiser than those who were not.' [z] See Chap. xv. Notes I and III.. As
As I conceive this to be what Aristotle means by probable impoffibility, fo by improbable poffibility I imagine he designs such consequences as may indeed very poffibly follow vay common causes, yet are contrary to the general probability required in poetry, as in an instance before mentioned from the Two Gentlemen of Verona (A). It is neither physically or morally impoffible for a lover who has just rescued his mistress from a ravisher, to give her up to him immediately afterwards; but our feelings revolt more at this circumstance than at all the ghosts, fairies, and witches of Shakespear. The scene between Williams the foldier and Fluellin in Henry V. shew how an absurd cause may be concealed by pleasant and natural confequences. Fluellin supposes Williams a traitor because he challenges by a blow the glove the king told him the had plucked from the helmet of Alanson. But I do not recollect any of the critics have remarked that this hoftile challenge shewed him rather an enemy than a friend. May not this be partly deemed a difcovery, made by a false reasoning of the spectators [B].
24.8.
mvp-aristotle-comment-108
24.23
THE LANGUAGE OUGHT PARTICULARLY TO BE LABORED IN THOSE UNINTERESTING PARTS WHICH ARE DESTITUTE OF MANNERS AND SENTIMENT.
THE difference with which this rule must be applied to the epopee and the drama has been noticed before (c). By laboring the language [A] See Note v. Chap. xv. [C] Note VIII. Chap. xxII. [B] See Chap. xvI. Ariftotle
POETIC OF ARISTOTLE. Ariftotle does not recommend the inflation of it by turgid expressions, bold figures, and studied inversion of phrafe, but the use of a style and verfification, at once elevated, fimple, smooth and melodious [D]. [D] For fome just observations on this subject, particularly as to tragedy, see Bp. Hurd's Note on ver. 94, of the Epiftle to the Pifos.. 3 S CHAP.
+ 1; THE mutilated state in which the poetic has come down to us, is no where so evident as where quotations from the poets occur, which is particularly the cafe in this chapter. Indeed these in general are fo partially and inaccurately cited, that they appear like extracts from a common-place book, where only a few words of the passage are set down from memory. The Abbé Terrasson makes a very just remark on the cause of this inaccuracy. Speaking of an erroneous quotation in Longinus, he adds, Neither is this the first citation from Homer that ⚫ the ancients have made erroneoufly; and it is exactly because they • almost knew him by heart that they were more subject to cite him unfaithfully.' I believe few modern writers trust to memory for their quotations, even from the authors with whom they are the most familiar.
Commentarius in Aristotelis Poeticam (Franciscus Ritter, 1839) (OCR draft)
(Ritter's Latin commentary, extracted from the 1839 volume, divided by Ritter's chapters and sections, and linked to the corresponding Perseus reference subsections.)
focus
1.
mvp-aristotle-comment-15
Ritter, cap. 3 § 1
9. Tertia artium poeticarum differentia ex vario imitandi modo et ratione nascitur.
ὑτὲ μὲν ἀπαγγέλλοντα - ἢ πάντας ὡς πράττοντας καὶ ἐνεργοῦντας τοὺς μιμουμένους: omnis poeticae imitationis modus in duo genera dividitur, unum narrandi, agendi alterum. prius, h. e. genus narrativum, duas habet species, sive narrantem inducit poeta alterum sive ipse narrandi partes in se suscipit. secundi generis ea natura est, ut qui imitantur ipsi agant ipsique personas eorum quos imitantur sustineant. huius alterius generis explicatio incipit a verbis
ἢ πάντας ὡς πράττοντας, ubi
ἢ particula licenter admissa est, cum
ὁτὲ δὲ post
ὑτὸ μὲν lectores exspectarent. structurae facilitas insuper impeditur illatis illis
ὥσπερ Ὅμηρος ποιεῖ post
ἕτερόν τι γιγνόμενον. Homerus imitationem ita instituit, ut dum plurima per alios enarrantur, multa tamen etiam ab ipso referantur, ut c. 24, 7. agnoscit laudatque Aristoteles. falso igitur Homerum omnia per alios enuntiare h. 1. monetur. porro vide mihi neque alterius ex priore genere speciei neque ipsius secundi generis exemplum afferri, sed exempla reservari donec tota res in universum satis exposita videretur; considera paucis interiectis versibus iterum provocari ad Homerum, ut idem poeta brevissimo intervallo bis in auxilium adhibeatur, quod saneabhorret a more veri Aristotelis. dicendum restat unde importunum additamentum venerit. interpolator cuius tot per hunc librum vestigia deprehenduntur, cum ex c. 24. didicisset Homerum per alios plurima referre, ille temperare sibi non potuit, quo minus iam hic quamvis loco non apto illam Homeri prae ceteris poetis epicis praestantiam significaret. - ceterum monendum puto, ne quis hoc loco abuti velit ad poesis in tria genera (epicum et lyricum et dramaticum) divisionem ab Aristotele profectam hinc eruendam et commonstrandam. non enim hoc nunc agit ut poesin universam in genera sua dividat, sed in duobus poesis generibus (epico et dramatico) diversam imitandi rationem explicare voluit, sane triplex illa poesis divisio in nonnullis huius libri locis Aristoteli obversata est ante animum (conf. Commentar. ad c. 1, 2), sed nullo loco eam aperte proposuit.
2.
mvp-aristotle-comment-16
Ritter, cap. 3 § 2
et 3.
πράττοντας - δρῶντας ἄμφω: expositis tribus illis quibus diversitates artium nituntur, iam post haec argumentum hactenus pertractatum apte concludit verbis illis (§. 4)
περὶ μὲν οὖν τῶν διαφορῶν,
καὶ πόσαι καὶ τίνες τῆς μιμήσεως,
εἰρήσθω ταῦτα. quae media inseruntur (§. 3), ea ab argumento adhuc explicato alienissima, per se levissima, ex parte absurda simul et falsa, damnanda et Aristoteli abiudicanda existimavi. videamus. primum ab eo loco qui modo pertractatus est aliena haec esse, ultro mihi concedent qui intellexerint afferri iam nihil nisi inutiles et inanes etymologias, quae a verbo
δρῶντας profectae fuse proferuntur, ipsum autem Aristotelem inde ab operis initio usque ad c. 4, 12. non modo ab huiusmodi nugis sed etiam ab enarrandis rebus, qualis est ista Doriensium tragoediam comoediamque sibi vindicantium commemoratio, religiose abstinere adeoque in afferendis exemplis parcissimum esse. absurda sunt
ὅθεν καὶ δράματα καλεῖσθαί τινες αὐτά φασιν,
ὅτι μιμοῦνται δρῶντας. vide, auctor incertus haerebat an re vera
δρᾶμα dictum sit a
δρᾶν, et rem scilicet tam dubiam in medio relinquens aliorum hominum sententiam protulisse contentus est. quae absurda simul et falsa dixi, ea suntP
ἐκεῖθεν γὰρ ἦν Ἐπίχαρμος ὁ ποιητής,
πολλῷ πρότερος ὢν Χωνίδου καὶ Μάγνητος. primum inepta haec sunt, cum qui paulo ante
δράματος nomine confisi sibi vindicare comoediam tragoediamque dicuntur, iidem statim argumenta ex historia sumpta proferunt quae, si vera essent, comoediae inventionem Siculis Doriensibus certissime vindicarent. scilicet Epicharmum, antiquissimum apud Dorienses comoediae hoc nomine dignae auctorem, multo prius vixisse quam Chonidem (Chionidem), antiquissimum apud Athenienses comoediarum scriptorem ¹), hic edocemur. sed de Chionide Suidas (cf. Eudocia p. 436) haec rettulit:
Χιωνίδης ᾿Αθηναῖος,
τῆς ἀρχαίας κωμῳδίας,
ὃν καὶ λέγουσι πρωταγωνίστην γενέσθαι τῆς ἀρχαίας κωμῳδίας,
διδάσκειν δὲ ἔτεσιν ὀκτὼ πρὸ τῶν Περσικῶν, hoc est Olympiad. 73, 1. idem Suidas accurate indicavit quando Epicharmus comoedias docere adgressus sit s. v.
Ἐπίχαρμος :
ἦν δὲ πρὸ τῶν Περσικῶν ἔτη ἕξ,
διδάσκων ἐν Συρακούσαις·
ἐν δὲ ᾿Αθήναις Εὐέτης καὶ Εὐξενίδης καὶ Μύλος ἐπεδείκνυντο, h. e. Olympiad. 73, 3. quae testimonia, quamvis ab auctore parum locuplete prolata, tantae sunt auctoritatis, quantae essent si apud fidissimum scriptorem legerentur. nam ipsa eorum condicio ac forma probat puro ex fonte (ex didascaliis ut videtur) profecta esse. neque illud quisquam infitiabitur, utriusque poetae, Chionidis et Epicharmi, primum certamen vel tempus quo fere coeperunt comoedias docere, illis in locis significari 2). quo tempore Epicharmus Syracusanos arte sua delectabat, tunc Athenis comoediis certabant Euetes et Euxenides et Mylus, et 1) Neque nos ipsi neque ignotus ille qui haec interposuit de antiqua illa comoedia lyrica hic loquimur, sed de fabula ad quendam perfectionis gradum perducta. illud quoque nemo infitiabitur, Epicharmum et Chionidem cum Magnete tamquam an- *tiquissimos verae comoediae auctores ab hoc scriptore perhiberi. 2) Scriptor de comoedia anonymus (ap. Kusterum p. XII) cum scribit
γέγονε (Epicharmus)
κατὰ τὴν οἱ Ὀλυμπιάδα, tempus quo ille comoedias docere Syracusis coepit designat planequecertabant quidem post 3) Chionidem, cum is
πρωταγωνίστης τῆς ἀρχαίας perhibeatur 4). itaque semidoctus hic interpolator immane quantum decipit lectores magni nominis specie praefulgens, cum scribit Epicharmum fuisse multo ante Chionidem : nam illud
πολλῷ πρότερος ὢν hoc vult significare, Epicharmum saltem quinquaginta amplius annis Chionide priorem vixisse. neque illud statuere tuto licet, Epicharmum, antequam Syracusas commigraret, Megaris in Sicilia ubi per aliquot temporis fuit comoedias spectandas praebuisse, propterea quod nemo veterum scriptorum id tradidit, immo omnes hanc eius gloriae sedem Syracusas agnoscunt. at vero hic ipse locus, sive Aristotelius sive ab interpolatore insertus, nonne ostendere videtur quod tu negas? non est ita, sed is nihil narrat nisi Epicharmum Megaris oriundum fuisse. novus hic est et turpis error Aristotele plane indignus. nam si Epicharmum Megarensem fuisse cum aliqua veri specie narrari potest et a nonnullis narratur, quod Megaris aliquamdiu versatus et fortasse in civium numerum receptus est, tamen nonnisi negligentissimus vel indoctus auctor scribere potest Megaris oriundum fuisse (
ἐκεῖθεν ἦν) eum, quem natum esse in insula Co et plurimum vitae tempus Syracusis degisse constet. conf. Müller Doriens. II. p. 352. Grysarius de Doriens. comoed. p. 87 sqq. si vera essent quae semidoctus interpolator effutivit, verae comoediae inven- Suidae consentit. ribus usum esse. eo minus dubium est utrumque bonis aucto- 3) Meinekius hisce falsi Aristotelis verbis a vero seductus Euetem et Euxenidem et Mylum s. Myllum Chionide priores aetate posuit in Quaestion. scen. specim. I. sub initium: non debebat. 4) Nihil moror quod vir eruditissimus, Grysarius de Doriensium comoedia p. 145 sqq., Odofredum Müllerum (Doriens. II. p. 352) secutus, ratione subducta coniecit, Epicharmum Syracusas venisse demum Olymp. 74, 2., cum Gelo Megarensium urbe deleta incolas transferret Syracusas: nam luculenta testimonia incerta ratione a nobis instituenda everti non possunt.tor Epicharmus celebrandus esset, sed Aristoteles ipse tantum abest ut Epicharmum pro inventore comoediae venditet, ut nonnisi mythica argumenta (
μύθους) ab illo primum adhibita esse rettulerit c. 5, 3. vitiis quae adhuc exposuimus cetera consimilia sunt. vide quaeso quomodo celeberrimus comoediarum scriptor designetur,
Ἐπίχαρμος ὁ ποιητής, quasi alii Epicharmi tam illustres exstiterint, ut poeta ab iis distinguendus esset, aut ipse tam obscurus fuerit, ut poetam eum fuisse lectoribus in memoriam revocandum esset. ac si ille nimis dilucide Epicharmum designare voluit, cur scripsit
ὁ ποιητής, non
ὁ κωμωδιοποιός ? porro ne id quidem mirabimur, a tali scriptore Chionidem et Magnetem tamquam aequales proponi, quamquam Magnetem Epicharmo (magisque adeo Chionide) aliquanto iuniorem, Cratino autem priorem fuisse veteres testantur. vid. Suid. s. v.
Μάγνης:
ἐπιβάλ λει δ' Ἐπιχάρμῳ νέος πρεσβύτῃ. conf. Aristophanes Equit. 517 sqq. Meinekius Quaestion. scen. I. p. 9 sqq. postremo interpolator ne nomen quidem Chionidis, nisi codices h. 1. omnes peccarunt, recte scribere potuit: libri enim fluctuant inter
Χωνίδου et
Χωνύδου et
Χονύδου, quod nomen unde deductum sit dici nequit. rectius haud dubie Suidae codices et Athenaei (III. p. 119 E. IV. p. 137 E. XIV. p. 638 D) et grammaticus ab Hermanno editus in libro de Emendanda ratione Gr. gr. p. 324. hunc poetam
Χιωνίδην vel
Χιονίδην appellant. conf. Meinekius 1. ind. p. 8. not. iam quaedam ad singulos paragraphi 3. locos adnotabimus.
ὅθεν καὶ δράματα: vinculum quo prioribus haec adnectantur laxum sane est ac paene nullum. forte praecesserat
μιμοῦνται δρῶντας: eo interpolator excitatus est ut doctrinam suam grammaticam ostentaret adiectis illis
ὅθεν καὶ δράματα cet. neque vero memoratu indignum videatur quod et haec enuntiatio et quae paulo post subsequitur eodem fere modo adiungitur:
ὅθεν καὶ δράματα καλεῖσθαι..
φασιν, et statim
διὸ καὶ ἀντιποιοῦνται cet. nonne haec woher auch et daher auch mediocrem grammaticum et sua alienis importune inserentem coarguere videntur? scilicet interpolatorem fere semper pluribus vestigtis deprehendimus, quorum haec obscure relicta, illa solide expressa sunt.
οἵ τε ἐνταῦθα ὡς ἐπὶ τῆς παρ' αὐτοῖς δημοκρατίας γενομένης: Megarenses qui hic, Graeciae sunt interioris Atticisque finitimi, quibus cognomentum
οἱ Νυσαῖοι, de tempore, quo illa popularis dominatio apud Megarenses exstiterit, erudite disputavit Meinekius in Quaest. scen. I. p. 3 sq., etiam Grysarius de Doriensium comoed. I. p. 4 sqq. quippe Meinekius ex Plutarchi Quaest. Gr. 18. p. 295 D. et, 49. p. 304 E (vol II. p. I. pag 210 et 247 apud Wyttenb.) docuit brevi post expulsum Megaris Theagenem tyrannum, h. e. circa Olymp. 45 vel 46., effrenatam populi dominationem ibi exortam esse. illius temporis comoediam lyricam fuisse hic verbo monere sufficiat. de Susarione comico, qui Tripodisci Megarensium vico natus et sub Olymp. 50. Icariam Atticorum transgressus comoedias fecit egitque, hic noster nihil videtur inaudisse. de illo conferendus est Müller in Doriens. II. p. 350. Meinekius Quaest. scen. I. 3 sqq.
καὶ τῆς τραγῳδίας ἔνιοι τῶν ἐν Πελοποννή σῳ: Sicyonii Epigenem tragicum Thespide sive sedecim sive duabus aetatibus priorem celebrabant. vid. Suidas s. v.
Θέσπις. conf. Mülleri Dorienses II. p. 367. sed de Epigene hic noster certe non cogitavit: quippe statim narrat Peloponnesios ad dicta sua probanda nominibus uti.
ὡς κωμῳδοὺς - ἐκ τοῦ ἄστεως : interpolator ipse magis inclinavit ut
κωμῳδοὺς a verbo
κωμάζειν dictos esse crederet: Dorienses contra a
κώμαις nomen deduxisse tradit. neutra etymologia vera est. conf. nota ad c. 4, 12. illud quoque verum non est, pro
κώμαις ab Atheniensibus dici
δήμους: immo
κῶμαι sunt vici (urbis partes),
δῆμοι pagi (ruris partes), quamquam hoc discrimen non semper observatur. vid. Phot. v.
κώμη et
κωμήτης. Aristophan. Nub. 965. Lysistr. 5.
1.
mvp-aristotle-comment-17
Ritter, cap. 4 § 1
Quae causae genuisse poesin videantur, quaeque eandem in diversas formas sive species (
εἴδη) discreverint. orta est poesis ex conaminibus extemporalibus, cumque alii honestos imitarentur, alii pravos, partim encomia hymnique partim vituperationes exstiterunt, ex quibus initiis paulatim et poemata heroica et iambi prodierunt. interiecto deinde tempore cum ars poetica altius coleretur, pro iambis comoedia successit, pro epicis carminibus tragoedia. haec multas passa mutationes, quarum potissimae Aeschylo auctore et Sophocle invaluerunt, substitit, postquam suam naturam assecuta est.
ἐοίκασι δὲ - φυσικαί: quoniam duae causae ubique ad poesin procreandam, h. e. ad opera artis poeticae excitanda, valuerunt, eas in hominum natura sitas esse (
φυ σικὰς εἶναι vel
φύσει εἶναι) manifestum est.
2.
mvp-aristotle-comment-18
Ritter, cap. 4 § 2
τό τε γάρ μιμεῖσθαι-χαίρειν τοῖς μιμήμασι πάντας: duae illae causae sunt imitandi facultas humano generi innata et voluptas quam ex imitamentis omnes percipiunt. primaria enuntiationis membra duo sunt, prius
τὸ τε γὰρ μιμεῖσθαι σύμφυτον τοῖς ἀνθρώποις ἐκ παίδων ἐστί', alterum
τὸ χαίρειν τοῖς μιμήμασι πάντας. quae parenthesis signo circumdata, ea ad pronuntiatum prius explicandum et adprobandum accesserunt.
μιμήματα opera sunt imitatione quacumque expressa, quae imitamenta a Latinis argenteae aetatis scriptoribus aliquoties appellantur.
3.
mvp-aristotle-comment-19
Ritter, cap. 4 § 3
σημεῖον δὲ τούτου τὸ συμβαῖνον ἐπὶ τῶν ἔργων: signum h. 1. memoratum eiusmodi est quo quid verisimile fiat, non unde antecedens pronuntiatum necessario consequatur. vid. Analyt. prior. II, 27. p. 70 a 7.
σημεῖον δὲ βούλεται εἶναι πρότασις ἀποδεικτικὴλ ἀναγκαία ἢ ἔνδοξος. Rhetor. I, 2. p. 1357 b 1.
τῶν δὲ σημείων τὸ μὲν
οὕτως ἔχει ὡς τῶν καθ᾽ ἕκαστόν τι πρὸς τὸ καθόλου,
τὸ δὲ ὡς τῶν καθόλου τι πρὸς τὸ κατὰ μέρος.
τούτων δὲ τὸ μὲν ἀναγκαῖον τεκμήριον,
τὸ δὲ μὴ ἀναγκαῖον ἀνώνυμόν ἐστι κατὰ τὴν διαφοράν.
ἀναγκαῖα μὲν οὖν λέγω ἐξ ὧν γίνεται συλλογισμός. aliud
σημεῖον eiusdem generis recurrit infra §. 14. cf. c. 13. §. 5 et 7. -
ἐπὶ τῶν ἔργων:
ἔργα h. 1. vocantur opera imitatione effecta oculisque consideranda. etiam numeri quod efficiunt et concentus eo nomine designatur in Politicis VIII, 5. p. 1340 a 21 et b 7.
δῆλον δὲ ἐκ τῶν ἔρ γων. –
λαμβάνουσι γὰρ τὰ μαρτύρια τῶν λόγων ἐξ αὐτῶν τῶν ἔργων. quae hoc Poeticae loco
ἐπὶ τῶν ἔργων, eadem Plutarchus
ἐπὶ τῶν θεαμάτων designavit. lege locum statim transcribendum.
τούτων τὰς εἰκόνας-θεωροῦντες: similia Plutarchus protulit in Quaestion. conviv. V, 1. p. 674 A (vol. III. p. II. pag. 757 ed. Wyttenb.):
καὶ γὰρ ἐπὶ τῶν θεαμάτων ὅμοια πεπόνθαμεν·
ἀνθρώπους μὲν γὰρ ἀποθνήσκοντας καὶ νοσοῦντας ἀνιαρῶς ὁρῶμεν,
τὸν δὲ γεγραμμένον Φιλοκτήτην καὶ τὴν πεπλασμένην Ἰοκάστην...
ἡδόμεθα καὶ θαυμάζομεν.
4.
mvp-aristotle-comment-20
Ritter, cap. 4 § 4
αἴτιον δὲ καὶ τούτου: causa autem huius ipsius rei (
τοῦ χαίρειν τοῖς μιμήμασι) est quod cet. postquam duas esse artis poeticae causas dixit, imitandi studium et delectationem ex imitamentis consecutam, pergit etiam huius delectationis causam explicare. particula xai indicat eius rei causam iam exponi, quae ipsa alius rei causa modo posita erat. hanc loci sententiam non intellexit qui scripturam a libris M 14 et 16 exhibitam
αἴτιον δὲ καὶ τοῦτο dedit, quasi tertia poeticae artis causa succederet, quas duas esse paulo ante pronuntiatum est. conf. Augustus Matthiae in diurnis Ienens. a. 1805. n. 224.
ἀλλ᾽ ἐπὶ βραχύ κοινωνοῦσιν αὐτοῦ: sed breve tempus commercium eius (discendi) continuant. omnes quidem homines ducuntur cupiditate discendi et sciendi (vid. Metaphysica A. 1), sed longe plurimi vulgari contenti eruditione alia negotia gerenda suscipiunt, philosophi totam vitam in discendo consumunt. hac: : de re cum aliis locis Plato disputavit, tum in Gorgia p. 483- 486. conf. Cicer. Tuscul. II, 1.
5.
mvp-aristotle-comment-21
Ritter, cap. 4 § 5
ὅτι συμβαίνει θεωροῦντας μανθάνειν καὶ συλλογίζεσθαι τί ἕκαστον: uberius eandem sententiam prompsit in Rhetoricis I, 11. p. 1371 b 4.
ἐπεὶ δὲ τὸ μανθάνειν τε ἡδὺ καὶ τὸ θαυμάζειν,
καὶ τὰ τοιάδε ἀνάγκη ἡδέα εἶναι οἷον το τε μεμιμημένον,
ὥσπερ γραφικὴ καὶ ἀνδριαντοποιία καὶ ποιητική,
καὶ πᾶν ὃ ἂν εὖ μεμιμημένον ᾖ,
κἂν ᾖ μὴ ἡδὺ αὐτό τε τὸ μεμιμημένον·
οὐ γὰρ ἐπὶ τούτῳ χαίρει,
ἀλλὰ συλλογισμός ἐστιν ὅτι τοῦτο ἐκεῖνο,
ὥστε μαν θάνειν τι συμβαίνει. neque tam bene neque tam accurate voluptatis ex imitamentis quae percipitur causam explicuit Plutarchus Quaestion. conviv. V, 1. p. 673 D (III. pag. 756 ap. Wyttenb.):
ὅτι φύσει λογικοὶ καὶ φιλότεχνοι γεγονότες πρὸς τὸ λογικῶς καὶ τεχνικῶς πραττόμενον οἰκείως διακείμεθα καὶ θαυμάζομεν ἂν ἐπιτυγχάνηται.
οὐχὶ μίμημα: haec est constans librorum scriptura quos inspexit Victorius et Bekkerus, eorum quoque quorum notitiam Burgesio (vid. Tyrwhitti ed. p. 241) debemus, neque ab his discedere codices Mediceos equidem quovis pignore contendam, quamquam Winstanleius
οὐ διὰ μίμημα exhibendo et de suis codicibus tacendo Buhlio et Graefenhanio fidem fecit, hoc sumptum esse ex quattuor illis codicibus Mediceis.
οὐ διὰ μίμημα in "quodam excuso" Victorius invenit idemque bene intellexit hoc ad correctorem referendum esse, quamquam et alii editores et ipse Bekkerus eo adquieverunt. sed ita locum legi non posse vel inde manifestum est quod verbum
ποιήσει subiecto suo caret, cui etiamsi
μιμητής vel aliud nomen ultro concedere cogitandoque supplere velis, Graecae tamen linguae ratio postulabit
οὐ διὰ μίμησιν, ut recte monuit Hermannus. sed id quoque quod nititur librorum auctoritate,
οὐχὶ μίμημα, ipsum non sufficit, propterea quod iam subsequentia illa
ἀλλὰ διὰ τὴν ἀπεργασίαν non habent quo referantur. huic quidem incommodo occurrit coniectura Hermanni
ουχ,
ᾗ μίμημα, non, quatenus imitamentum; sed vel sic frustra quaerimus quo
ποιήσει referamus. quae cumreputo, crediderim post
οὐχὶ μίμημα quoddam enuntiationis membrum intercidisse, ac locum sic supplere tentaverim :
οὐχὶ μίμημα,
ᾗ μίμημα,
ποιήσει τὴν ἡδονὴν ἀλλὰ διὰ τὴν ἀπεργασίαν, h. e. non imitamentum faciet delectationem, quatenus est imitamentum, sed per artificium cet.
6.
mvp-aristotle-comment-22
Ritter, cap. 4 § 6
κατὰ φύσιν δὲ ὄντος: quod modo
σύμφυτον dixit, id iam
κατὰ φύσιν ὂν designavit. quod enim natura insitum nobis, idem naturae nostrae consentaneum est.
καὶ τῆς ἁρμονίας καὶ τοῦ ῥυθμοῦ: concentum numerumque hominibus natura insitum esse nondum quidem demonstravit, sed id tum a legentibus ultro sibi concedi sperare potuit, tum alius esse disputationis vidit.
τὰ γὰρ μέτρα ὅτι μόρια τῶν ῥυθμῶν ἐστί,
φανερόν: metra materiam numero suggerunt, quam dum ille moderatur certaeque legi subiungit, eius materiae partes (metra) numeri partes videntur, eaedemque procreari quasi a numero videntur, unde illud
πατήρ μέτρου ῥυθμός. lege quae docte disputavit Boeckhius de Metris Pindari I, p. 5. 18 sqq. conf. Aristot. Rhetor. III, 8. p. 1408 b 28.
ὁ δὲ τοῦ σχήματος τῆς λέξεως ἀριθμὸς ῥυθμός ἐστιν,
ο ὗ καὶ τὰ μέτρα τμητά.
ἐξ ἀρχῆς πεφυκότες - ἐκ τῶν αὐτοσχεδιασμά των: a principio aevum agentes et illa (imitandi studium et numerum atque concentum) potissimum promoventes pое- sin procreaverunt ex subitis conaminibus, h. e. imitandi illam facultatem numeroque et concentui obsequendi studium hominibus insitum cum nonnulli ex primis mortalibus prae ceteris sensim sensimque promoverent, poesis exorta et subitis conaminibus excitata est.
ἐξ ἀρχῆς πεφυκότες sunt homines quidam qui inter primos mortales fuere,
οἱ ἐξ ἀρχῆς πεφυκότες vel
ἐξ ἀρχῆς οἱ πεφ. sunt primi mortales. articulus igitur recte abest a libris AcNa et M 14 XIV 21 et GLQ, neque nominatim ex ullo codice affertur. sed vide quo eventu recentior interpolator (Italus quidam) in hoc loco concinnando grassatus sit, ut editores tantum non omnes ¹) illum 1) Libenter memoramus et laudamus quod Graefenhanius unus ex novis editoribus ab interpolatore sibi h. 1. cavit.sequerentur, nonnulli alias emendandi vias circumspicerent. nam primum pro
καὶ αὐτὰ (quod inest AcBcNa et M omnibus et GLPQ) edunt Aldinum exemplar secuti
πρὸς αὐτὰ. hoc
πρὸς cum illatum esset,
πεφυκότες consistere per sese non potuit, cum iam non de incertis quibusdam hominibus, sed de certo hominum genere sermo esset; articulo igitur opus erat, ut tandem prodiret quod apud Aldum et plerosque editores legitur,
οἱ πεφυκότες πρὸς αὐτὰ μάλιστα, h. e. qui ad illa instructi potissimum erant.
7.
mvp-aristotle-comment-23
Ritter, cap. 4 § 7
διεσπάσθη δὲ κατὰ τὰ οἰκεῖα ἤθη ἡ ποίησις: secundum proprios mores tam eorum qui imitabantur quam eorum qui imitando exprimerentur duo poesis genera nata sunt, quorum alterum maledicta in viles homines et improbos iecit, alterum laudibus honestos prosecutum est. haec a philosopho probabiliter disputari, non ab rerum scriptore ut rem in facto positam narrari, id ex iis quae continuo (§. 8) sequuntur apparet.
πρῶτον ψόγους,
ὥσπερ ἕτεροι ὕμνους καὶ ἐγκώμια: alii maledictis pravos homines insectabantur, alii laudibus celebrabant viros fortes (
ἐγκώμια) et deos deorumque prolem (
ὕμνους). sane notabile videtur et grave quod Aristoteles agnoscit poesin lyricae similem iam ante Homerum florentem, sed encomia illa antiquissima hymnosque epicae poesi cognata ab eodem cogitari liquet ex iis quae mox (§. 9) proferuntur,
καὶ ἐγένοντο τῶν παλαιῶν οἱ μὲν ἡρωϊκῶν οἱ δὲ ἰάμβων ποιηταί. itaque secundum Aristotelis sententiam haec fuerunt Graecae poesis primordia et incrementa et vicissitudines: ex primis illis et priscis poetis alii maledicta iecerunt, alii laudes decantaverunt, utrique ex tempore; illi interiecto temporis spatio iambos, h. e. ma- Jedicta arte quadam composita nec ex tempore fusa, hi iusta carmina ad claros viros laudandos accommodata, h. e. epopoeias, facere adgressi sunt. tertia tandem artis poeticae immutatio paulo post (§. 10) describitur: quippe illi qui iambos ante confecerant, comoedias scribere, qui carmina epica condiderant, tragoedias docere coeperunt.
8.
mvp-aristotle-comment-24
Ritter, cap. 4 § 8
οἷον ἐκείνου ὁ Μαργίτης,
καὶ τὰ τοιαῦτα ἐν οἷς καὶ τὸ ἁρμόττον ἰαμβεῖον ἦλθε μέ τρον: haec postrema
ἐν οἷς –
μέτρον non ad Homeri Margitam sed ad similia poemata illud subsequentia et vituperationes fundentia pertinent, quod ut facilius in oculos incurrat, comma post
Μαργίτης positum est. nam etiamsi in eo Margita, de cuius versibus grammatici inde a saeculo post Christum altero (primus est Hephaestio) loquuntur, aliquot iambos hexametris immixtos fuisse certum videatur, hos ta men Aristoteles aut nondum vidit aut raro dispersos non curavit hoc loco, cum scripsit
ἐν οἷς καὶ τὸ ἁρμόττον ἰαμβεῖον ἦλθε μέτρον, h. e. in quibus etiam metrum iambicum apte prodiit: nam haec non de versibus nonnullis interpositis sed de versuum genere in illis carminibus constanter admisso intelligenda sunt. ipsa verba
ἐν οἷς καὶ τὸ ἁρμόττον ἦλθε östendunt novum illud versuum genus (iambos) post Homerum esse inventum: haec enim scripsit respiciens versus heroos Homeri proprios. dabo aliud quo idem adprobabitur. dicit Aristoteles iambicum metrum inde duxisse nomen, quod eo utentes maledictis sese in vicem proscinderent (
ὅτι ἐν τῷ μέτρῳ τούτῳ ἰάμβίζον ἀλλήλους): sed cum in Margita nulla inessent maledicta (
οὐ ψόγον ἀλλὰ τὸ γελοῖον δραματοποιήσας), ad hoc carmen non possunt pertinere illa
ἐν οἷς καὶ τὸ ἁρμόττον ἰαμβεῖον ἦλθε μέτρον. itaque post Homerum versus iambicos prodisse Aristoteles existimavit. inde consequitur iambos illos, qui herois versibus immixti erant, ab Aristotele in suo Margitae exemplari aut non inventos aut pro interpolatis habitos esse. de versibus iambicis Margitae admixtis veterum testimonia haec ad nos pervenerunt. Hephaestio de Metris p. 112 ed. Gaisford.
μετρικὰ δὲ ἄτακτα ὅσα ἐκ μέτρων μὲν ὁμολογουμένων συνέστηκε τάξιν δὲ καὶ ἀνακύκλησιν οὐκ ἔχει,
οὔτε κατὰ στίχον οὔτε κατὰ συστήματα,
οἷός ἐστιν ὁ Μαργίτης ὁ εἰς Ὅμηρον ἀναφερόμενος,
ἐν ᾧ παρἐσπαρται τοῖς ἔπεσιν (hexametris)
ἰαμβικά,
καὶ ταῦτα οὐ κατ᾽ ἴσον σύστημα. idem p. 120.
τοιοῦτός ἐστι (
ἐκ μέτρων ἀτάκτων)
καὶ ὁ Μαργίτης Ὁμήρου·
οὐ γὰρ τεταγμένῳ ἀριθ-
μῷ ἐπῶν τὸ ἰαμβικὸν ἐπιφέρεται. ad haec scholiasta scripsit
μετὰ γὰρ δέκα στίχους ἐπιφέρει ἴαμβον,
καὶ πάλιν μετὰ πέντε καὶ ὀκτώ. Marius Victorinus p. 2572. ed. Putsch. hoc (iambico) genere versuum, ut supra (p. 2512) diximus, primus usus est Homerus in Margite suo, nec tamen totum carmen ita digestum perfecit: nam duobus pluribusve hexametris ante positis istum subiiciens copulavit. conf. idem p. 2524. et Atilius Fortunatianus p. 2692. exemplum eiusmodi copulationis ex Margita protulit Lindemannus in Lyra I. p. 82. sumptum ex grammatico quodam Latino bibliothecae Berolinensis
ἦλθέ τις εἰς Κολοφῶνα γέρων καὶ θεῖος ἀοιδός,
Μουσάων θεράπων καὶ ἑκηβόλου ᾿Απόλλωνος,
φίλῃς ἔχων ἐν χερσὶν εὔφθογγον λύρην. cetera quae ex Margita afferuntur fragmenta versibus herois inclusa leguntur. Aristot. Ethic. Nicom. VI, 7. p. 1141 a 14.
εἶναι δέ τινας σοφοὺς οἰόμεθα οὐ κατὰ μέρος οὐδ᾽ ἄλλο᾿ τι σοφούς,
ὥσπερ Ὅμηρός φησιν ἐν τῷ Μαργίτῃ τὸν δ᾽ οὔτ᾽ ἂρ σκαπτῆρα θεοὶ θέσαν οὔτ᾽ ἀροτῆρα οὔτ᾽ ἄλλως τε σοφόν,
πάσης δ᾽ ἡμάρτανε τέχνης. secundi versus alterum hemistichium ab Aristotele non transcriptum cum ceteris servavit Clemens Alexandrinus Strom. I. pag. 281 A. ed. Sylb. (I. p. 329. ed. Potter). falsus Plato in Alcibiade altero p. 147
Β.
οὐ γὰρ δήπου Ὅμηρον ἀγνοεῖν δοκεῖς ὅτι οὐχ οἷόντε ἦν ἐπίστασθαι κακῶς.
ἐκεῖνος γάρ ἐστιν ὁ λέγων τὸν Μαργίτην πολλὰ μὲν ἐπίστασθαι,
κακῶς δέ,
φησι,
πάντα ἠπίστατο. inde Buttmannus hunc versum elicuit
πόλλ' ἠπίστατο ἔργα,
κακῶς δ' ἠπίστατο πάντα. Iam pauca de recta loci scriptura dicenda restant.
κατὰ τὸ ἁρμόττον inest AcBcNa et GLPQ, idemque inesse Mediceis, quamvis tacente Winstanleio et zai pro
κατά exhibente, non est quod dubitemus.
καὶ τὸ ἁρμόττον ab Aldo profectum recte dextreque correctum videtur. nam cum in lectione librorum scriptorum articulus ante
ἰαμβεῖον μέτρον desideretur, aut
καὶ τὸ ἁρμόττον aut
κατὰ τὸ ἁρμόττον τὸpro
κατὰ τὸ ἁρμόττον scribi potest. nitate praestat. prior ratio remedii le-
ὅτι ἐν τῷ μέτρῳ τούτῳ ἰάμβιζον ἀλλήλους: a verbo
ἰάπ - τειν (iac - ere) factum est nomen
ἴαμβος, id quod iacitur, h. e. maledictum; inde rursus descendit verbum
ἰαμβίζειν, maledictis incessere. cf. Marius Victorinus p. 2525. appellatur autem iambicum
ἀπὸ τοῦ ἰαμβίζειν, quod Graece significat maledicere et carpere..
9.
mvp-aristotle-comment-25
Ritter, cap. 4 § 9
μόνος γὰρ οὐχ ὅτι εὖ,
ἀλλ᾽ ὅτι καὶ μιμήσεις δραματικὰς ἐποίησεν : cum in versu praecedente virtutis praestantiaeque Homeri mentio facta esset, ea hisce interiectis breviter vindicatur: quippe ille epicam imitationem non modo bene instituit, sed etiam dramaticam eius formam unus recte adhibuit, quatenus ipse perpauca exsequitur narrando sed alios enarrantes et loquentes inducit. accuratius hoc exposuit c. 24, 7. aptum vero erat eam Homeri virtutem h. 1. memorare, cum paulo post idem poeta tragoediae comoediaeque formam ostendisse dicatur.
οὐ ψόγον ἀλλὰ τὸ γελοῖον δραματοποιήσας: duo sunt quae hic edocemur; eorum unum ad argumentum Margitae, alterum ad formam eiusdem pertinet. Margitam qui fecit, is non unum aliquem maledictis lacessivit, sed exemplar stulti hominis et multa inepte molientis proposuit; non
τὸ καθ' ἕκαστον pangere voluit, sed missa singulos carpendi consuetudine (
ἀφέμενος τῆς ἰαμβικῆς ἰδέας) secutus est
τὸ καθόλου 2). praeter hoc discimus Margitae non defuisse for- 2) Quam vere hoc ab Aristotele traditum sit, cum ex aliis veterum scriptorum locis tum ex Eustathii commentariis ad Odyss. K. p. 1669, 49. cognoscere licet:
οὕτως ἔγνωμεν καὶ τὸν ἄφρονα Μαργίτην,
τὸν ἀπὸ τοῦ μαργαίνειν ὅ ἐστι μωραίνειν·
ὃν ὁ ποιήσας τὸν ἐπιγραφόμενον Ὁμήρου Μαργίτην ὑποτίθεται εὐπόρων μὲν εἰς ὑπερβολὴν γονέων φῦναι·
γήμαντα δὲ μὴ συμπεσεῖν τῇ νύμφῃ,
ἕως ἀναπεισθεῖσα ἐκείνη τετραυματίσθαι τὰ κάτω ἐσκήψατο,
φαρμακόν τε μηδὲν ὠφελήσειν ἔφη,
πλὴν εἰ τὸ ἀνδρεῖον αἰδοῖον ἐκεῖ ἐφαρμοσθείη.
καὶ οὕτως θεραπείαςmam illam dramaticam, qua Homeri Ilias et Odyssea tantopere excellunt. nimirum stultus iste et ineptus cum uxore et matre sua et patre aliisque hominibus colloquendo stultitiae documenta edidit. ceterum Margites pro Homeri carmine habetur a scriptoribus Graecis antiquis, non solum ab Aristotele et ignoto illo Alcibiadis secundi auctore sed etiam a Zenone Stoico. vid. Dio Chrysost. Orat. 53. tom. II. p. 275 ed. Reisk.
γέγραφε δὲ καὶ Ζήνων ὁ φιλόσοφος εἴς τε τὴν Ἰλιάδα καὶ τὴν Ὀδυσσείαν καὶ περὶ τοῦ Μαργίτου. sed grammatici Alexandrini nonnisi duo magna illa poemata vel unam Iliadem Homero relinquentes cum ceteris Margitam quoque ei abiudicaverunt 3), unde factum ut scriptores posterioris aetatis ab illorum iudicio pendentes de huius poematis auctore dubitanter loquerentur, veluti scholiasta Aristophanis ad Aves v. 914.
ἐπεπίστευτο δὲ καὶ ὁ Μαργίτης τοῦ Ὁμήρου εἶναι, Eustathius ad Odyss. K.
ρ. 1669, 50.
ὁ ποιήσας τὸν ἐπιγραφόμενον Ὁμήρου Μαργίτην, alii. Callimachus tamen Homerum carminis auctorem videtur existimasse, quod coniicere forsitan liceat ex iis quae refert Harpocratio s. V.
Μαργίτης:
ἐκάλουν δὲ τοὺς ἀνοήτους οὕτω διὰ τὸν εἰς Ὅμηρον ἀναφερόμενον Μαργίτην,
ὅπερ ποίημα Καλλίχάριν ἐκεῖνος ἐπλησίασεν. conf. Dio Chrysost. Orat. 67. tom. II. p. 362. ed. Reisk. Suidas s. v.
Μαργίτης. Tzetzes Chiliad. IV, 869-871. Histor. VI, 62. 595. ipso
Μαργίτου nomine quoddam hominum genus denotari vix est cur moneamus. ex radice MP vel stirpe MAPI (ea motum quendam inaequabilem videtur significare) nomen
μάργος et
μάργης (insanus vel stultus) nascitur, item verbum
μαργᾶν et
μαργαίνειν (insanire) atque
μαργοῦν (et insanum esse et insanum facere aliquem). a
μάργος fit
μαργίτης, ut ab
ἁγνὸς ἁγνίτης,
λευκός λευκίτης,
μάκαρ μακαρίτης,
πεζὸς πεζίτης,
ψαφαρὸς ψαφαρίτης.
μάργος insanus est, sed
μαργίτης qui insanus vel stultus esse perseverat, h. e. qui omnibus factis dictisque insaniam ostendit. 3) Eustathius ad. II. p. 4, 30.
εἰ δὲ καὶ ἕτερα ποιήματά εἰσιν Ὁμήρου,
οἷον καὶ ὁ Μαργίτης καὶ ἡ τῶν μυῶν καὶ βατράχων μάχη,
ἄλλοι καὶ αὐτὸ ἐξήτασαν πρὸς ἀκρίβειαν.
μάχος θαυμάζειν ἔοικεν. ex ceteris illis grammaticis nonnulli Margitae auctorem in incerto reliquerunt, alii coniectura utique incerta eundem assequi voluerunt. horum fidem sequitur Suidas dum scribit
Πίγρης:
Κάρ,
ἀπὸ ῾Αλικαρνασσοῦ,
ἀδελφὸς ᾿Αρτεμισίας ...
ὃς τῇ Ἰλιάδι παρενέβαλε κατὰ στίχον ἐλεγεῖον οὕτω γράψας μῆνιν ἄειδε θεά Πηληϊάδεω Αχιλῆος,
Μοῦσα,
σὺ γὰρ πάσης πείρατ' ἔχεις σοφίης.
ἔγραψε καὶ τὸν εἰς Ὅμηρον φερόμενον Μαργίτην καὶ Βατραχομυομαχίαν. hanc illi coniecturam ita conceperunt, ut quem in Batrachomyomachia ridiculum tractasse argumentum cognossent, eidem Margitam humane concederent. vere igitur vir ingeniosus Fr. Welckerus huic opinioni nihil tribuendum esse putat in Cyclo epico p. 415., ubi aliam etiam illius coniecturae causam exponit sibi probatam ac Nitzschio in Histor. Hom. I. p. 106. scilicet cum critici illi Pigretem elegos Iliadi inseruisse cognitum haberent, eos propter iambos Margitae intextos huius carminis eundem auctorem esse statuisse. conferenda sunt quae Welckerus in eodem libro p. 184. perdocte, ut solet, de Margita exposuit. coniecturam valde incertam de hoc poemate protulit Wassenberghius ad Vitas Homeri p. 11 sqq..
10.
mvp-aristotle-comment-26
Ritter, cap. 4 § 10
οἱ μὲν ἀντὶ τῶν ἰάμβων κωμῳδοποιοί ἐγένοντο,
οἱ δὲ ἀντὶ τῶν ἐπῶν τραγῳδοδιδάσκαλοι : loquendi brevitatem ita excusare licet et explicare, ut Aristoteli, scribenti
ἀντὶ τῶν ἰάμβων et
ἀντὶ τῶν ἐπῶν, non tam ante animum obversaretur quod re vera posuit,
κωμῳδοποιοί et
τραγῳδοδιδάσκαλοι, quam
ποιηταὶ κωμῳδιῶν et
διδάσκαλοι τραγῳδιῶν. vid. ad c. 1, 7. 8, 3.
11.
mvp-aristotle-comment-27
Ritter, cap. 4 § 11
τὸ μὲν οὖν ἐπισκοπεῖν εἰ ἄρ᾽ ἔχει κτλ. paulo ante (§. 7-10) docuit tum quomodo nata sit et epica poesis et iambica, tum qua ratione pro his ipsis tragoedia invaluerit et comoedia. iam dicit hoc, quaerere utrum tragoedia omnino respondeat (
ἔχει ἱκανῶς) necne formis illis poeticis (
τοῖς εἴδεσιν), h. e. formis quae in poesi adhiberi possunt, ita ut tragoedia omnium poeticae artis generum sit perfectis-.: sima, an species poetica magis perfecta ab ullo mortalium possit excogitari, id alius esse disputationis. non ea est (hoc vulgo existimant) loci sententia, alius esse disputationis, num tragoedia, qua est tragoedia, satis culta sit an non sit: hoc enim certum fuisse Aristoteli ex §. 12. apparet:
καὶ πολλὰς μεταβολὰς μεταβαλοῦσα ἡ τραγῳδία ἐπαύσατο,
ἐπεὶ ἔσχε τὴν αὑτῆς φύσιν. declarat igitur se anquirere iam nolle an nova quadem poesis immutatione novisque
εἴδεσι pro comoedia et tragoedia prolatis perfectius quidquam fieri et excogitari possit quam tragoedia, sed haec ipsa quomodo paulatim culta sit explicaturum se esse.
αὐτό τε καθ' αὑτὸ κρινόμενον καὶ πρὸς τὰ θέατρα: ubi quaeritur utrum tragoedia cultissima sit et perfectissima ex omnibus quot esse possunt poesis genera an alia species magis instructa et perculta proferri possit, quid ibi theatra sibi velint vix intelligas. eiusmodi quaestio nonnisi ita explicari posse videtur, ut illud poesis genus per sese spectetur. frigere igitur illud additamentum videatur. accedit aliud: nam
κρινόμενον ab Aldo propagatum adhuc in nullo codice repertum est, sed pro illo participio
κρίνεται ἢ ναὶ inest in libris AcBc et Get M XIV,
κρίνεται ἦναι Μ 21 et Parisiensi 2938,
κρίνεται εἶναι Na et LQ et M 14 16. codicum vestigia
κρίνεται ἢ ναὶ aperte commendant, quod quo casu ex
κρινόμενον corrumpi potuerit assequi vix licet. donec igitur et iusta auctoritas pro forma
κρινόμενον afferatur et apta huic loco explicatio promatur, hanc meam suspicionem producere locumque nove constituere non temerarium erit:
τὸ μὲν οὖν ἐπισκοπεῖν εἰ ἄρ᾽ ἔχει ἤδη ἡ τραγωδία τοῖς εἴδεσιν ἱκανῶς ἢ οὔ [
αὐτό τε καθ' αὑτὸ κρίνεται;
ἢ καὶ 4)
πρὸς τὰ θέατρα;],
ἄλλος λόγος. vides, mi lector, quo haec tendant. curiosus quidam quae in margine interrogavit, ea in verborum contextum recepta ac deinde ab Italo quodam interpolata videntur. sed dico videntur, ideoque in ipsis ver- 4) Istud vai ante
καὶ per
διττογραφίαν natum conieceris.bis nihil mutandum putavi, sed hanc meam coniecturam lectori expendendam commendo.
12.
mvp-aristotle-comment-28
Ritter, cap. 4 § 12
καὶ ἡ μὲν ἀπὸ τῶν ἐξαρχόντων τὸν διθύραμβον: antiquissimam tragoediae formam non diversam fuisse significat a prisco illo dithyramborum genere, cum chorus satyrorum circa Bacchi aram caprumque ei numini immolatum
τραγωδίαν sive
τραγικὴν ἀοιδὴν (Bocks - gesang) decantando saltaret. haec est enim nativa ac prima
τραγῳδίας significatio. nimirum
τραγωδίας nomen decompositum (
παρασύνθετον) est ex
τραγωδός, unde etiam
τραγῳδέω, plane ut
κωμῳδέω et
κωμῳδία ex
κωμῳδός,
ἀρνῳδέω et
ἀρνῳδία ex
ἀρνῳδός.
τραγωδία est igitur id quod canit tragoedus (
ἀοιδὴ τοῦ τραγῳδοῦ): ipse tragoedus est
ὃς τράγον ἀείδει. quamvis enim prisci illi tragoedi non ipsum caprum sed deum cui caper mactabatur canerent, ab hominibus tamen nomen eis inditum est ab ea re quae oculis potissimum exposita esset 4).
ἐξάρχειν τὸν διθύραμβον hic dictum est de iis qui dithyramborum et canendorum et saltandorum auctores erant et magistri. quoniam
αὐτοσχεδιαστικῶς dithyrambum 4) Varias nominis
τραγωδίας etymologias collectas proposuit vir pereximius Fr. Welckerus in Appendice operis de trilogia Aeschylia editi p. 240. quam ipse ceteris praetulit ab Etymol. Magno acceptam
τραγῳδία ὅτι τὰ πολλὰ οἱ χοροὶ ἐκ σατύρων συνίσταντο,
οὓς ἐκάλουν τράγους –, ea mihi non probatur, propterea quod
τραγωδία non est nomen compositum (
σύνθετον) ex
τράγος et
ᾠδή, sed decompositum (
παρασύνθετον) est ex
τραγωδός. tertia eiusdem nominis explicandi ratio
ὅτι τράγος τῇ ᾠδῇ ἄθλον ἐτίθετο —, ab antiquis auctoribus certatim tradita et magni Bentleii assensu (Opusc. p. 315 sqq.) comprobata, nuper merito repudiata est a Iacobo in Quaestionibus Sophocl. p. 85 et 104., a Welckero l. indic., aliis. id tamen dubitari vix poterit, quin dithyrambi cantores sacris illis peractis hoc laboris praemium tulerint, ut una cum sacerdotibus sacrificii ministris capri mactati carne vescerentur. forsitan inde orta sit fabula ista de hirco in praemium certaminis (
ὡς ἄθλον) proposito.inchoabant, eis neque
γράφειν neque
ποιεῖν neque
συνιστάναι tribui potuit.
ὁ ἐξάρχων et laudes dei et cantandi modos saltandique figuras ita inchoavit, ut ceteri praeeuntem circa Bacchi aram sequerentur. haec ad intellectum verborum Aristotelis dixisse sufficiat: rem illam ipsam ex omnibus quot ad nos venerunt testimoniis veterum scriptorum explicare alius est disputationis, quae nostra aetate acerrime et agitata est et agitatur.
ἡ δὲ ἀπὸ τῶν τὰ φαλλικά: ut
φαλλός signum est potentiae genitalis masculi generis animantibus concessae, ita
τὰ φαλλικά carmina sunt ad
φαλλόν in pompa decantata eademque ad Bacchum hanc vim iuvantem celebrandum accommodata. a priscis illis dithyrambis ita diversa fuerunt, ut primum vim genitricem praedicarent, tum ut in pompa, non circa aram, recitarentur. haec comissantium turba (cui nomen
κῶμος) habebat quem
τὰ φαλλικά ex tempore canere atque saltare incipientem (
ἐξάρχοντα) sequeretur. duci ceterisque cantoribus nomen erat
κωμῳδοί, h. e.
τοῦ κώμου ἀοιδοί, Sänger des (schwärmenden) Aufzuges. inde per
παρασύνθεσιν factum est verbum
κωμῳδέω et nomen
κωμῳδία. grassari in tali comissantium turba est
κωμάζειν. –
ἃ ἔτι καὶ νῦν - νομιζόμενα: hos serioris aetatis
φαλλοφόρους vel
ἰθυφάλλους descripsit Semus Delius apud Athenaeum XIV. p. 622 C.
κατὰ μικρὸν ηυξήθη ὅσον ἐγίγνετο φανερὸν αὐτῆς : Thespin aliosque ante Aeschylum tragoediarum scriptores significat. accuratius haec quae ad historiam artis poeticae pertinerent in opere
περὶ ποιητῶν exsecutus videtur.
13.
mvp-aristotle-comment-29
Ritter, cap. 4 § 13
ex multis tragicae artis vicissitudinibus et incrementis quinque commemorasse contentus est, quorum tria Aeschylo inventori, duo Sophocli debentur. primum et alterum, dico numerum actorum usque ad duos auctum et partes chori imminutas, arcte inter se cohaerent alterumque ex priore pendet. nam cum in tragoedia Thespidis unus actor esset, is nonnisi cum choro colloqui aut sua choro narrare poterat: sed cum alterum Aeschylus actorem produxisset,iam unus cum altero sermones conferre atque ambo inter se agere coeperunt; iam aptum et necessarium visum est tragicis poetis, ut quod alteri parti accessisset alteri detraherent, h. e. ut chori carmina partesque paulum contraherent. tertium Aeschyli inventum est illud
καὶ τὸν λόγον πρωταγωνιστὴν παρεσκεύασεν : per nomen abstractum quod vocamus actorem primarum partium designavit 5). ex duabus personis in scena agentibus cum una adeo excelleret ut ad eam actio potissimum referretur, unitas actionis sustineri facilius potuit. itaque etiam huius rei inventio gravissima erat.
τρεῖς δὲ καὶ σκηνογραφίαν Σοφοκλῆς: tertium actorem in eadem
ἐπεισοδίου parte cum duobus aliis colloquentem agentemque a Sophocle inventum esse consentientes Aristoteli tradunt et Dicaearchus in Auctario vitae Aeschyliae Robortelliano laudatus et Diogenes Laertius III, 34. et auctor vitae Sophocliae et Suidas s.
ν.
Σοφοκλῆς. Aeschylo huius inventionis laudem tribuit scriptor incertus Auctarii illius a Robortello editi, facta tamen Dicaearchi dissentientis mentione. ex levi sane recordatione Themistius (in Orat. XXVI. p. 382. ed. Dindorf.) haec scripsit :
ἀλλὰ καὶ ἡ σεμνή τραγωδία μετὰ πάσης ὁμοῦ τῆς σκευῆς καὶ τοῦ χοροῦ καὶ τῶν ὑποκριτῶν παρελήλυθεν εἰς τὸ θέατρον;
καὶ οὐ προσέχομεν ᾿Αριστοτέλει ὅτι τὸ μὲν πρῶτον ὁ χορὸς εἰσιὼν 6)
ᾔδεν εἰς τοὺς θεούς,
Θέσπις δὲ πρόλογόν τε καὶ ῥῆσιν ἐξεῦρεν,
Αἰσχύλος δὲ τρίτον ὑποκριτὴν καὶ ὀκρίβαντας,
τὰ δὲ 5) Similiter iustus orator, quem Aristophanes in Nubibus v. 887. producit, in libro illo optimo Ravennate
δίκαιος λόγος appellatur, et iniustus iusto quaerenti quis sit respondet sese
λό yov esse. 6) Ad
εἰσιών ex praecedentibus
εἰς τὸ θέατρον intellectu trahendum est. vide ut orator antiquissimae illi
τραγῳδίᾳ theatrum largiatur, in quod chorus ingressus deos (debuit Bacchum) се- cinerit; vide ut alterum actorem Thespidi concedat, cum post huius commemorationem ad Aeschylum transgressus narret tertium ab hoc actorem adhibitum esse.
πλείω τούτων Σοφοκλέους ἀπελαύσαμεν καὶ Εὐριπίδου; hic homo tertium actorem ad Aeschylum refert, Aristoteles ad Sophoclem, hic duos actores in Thespidis fabula deprehendit, Aristoteles secundum actorem ab Aeschylo inventum tradit, hic plura etiam ab Euripide reperta agnoscit, Aristoteles de Euripidis inventis nihil inaudivit. tam incredibilia et iis quae in Poetica legimus contraria Aristoteles aliis in libris enarrare non potuit: immo hic quarti post Christum saeculi scriptor ex hoc nostro loco sapientiam suam omnem videtur hausisse. hoc certum est, illum leviter scripsisse et dormitantem. itaque non maiorem eius verbis fidem tribuerim, quam iis quae nostra aetate quendam memini effutire: die Gymnasien sind, was sie bei den Griechen und Römern schon waren, Anstalten für höhere wissenschaftliche Bildung 7). unus igitur qui laude illa Sophoclem privare voluit restat scriptor qui in Auctario a Robortello evulgato pronuntiat
αὐτὸς (
Αἰσχύλος)
τὸν τρίτον ὑποκριτὴν ἐξεῦρεν. nimirum ille sive eius auctores (si quos habuit) tertium actorem in nonnullis Aeschyli fabulis, ut in Eumenidibus et Choephoris, invenientes atque eam rem non satis pensitantes, contra unice id spectantes, Aeschylum natu maiorem esse Sophocle, illi continuo inventionis gloriam concesserunt. vide quae de hac re disputavit Lessingius in Vita Sophoclia p. 104 sqq. tom. 10. ed. Berolin. Welckerus in Trilogia Aeschylia p. 515. Schultzius de Vita Sophoclis p. 70 sqq. Alterum Sophoclis inventum ad colendam tragicae demonstrationis magnificentiam aptum
σκηνογραφία fuit, h. e. ea pingendi ratio qua imagines ex longinquo visae perfectam quandam et pulchram formam praebent. bene Passovius in Lexico interpretatur perspectivische Mah- 7) Dum haec scribo, liber novus in oculos incidit in quo viris doctis offeruntur haece: Wenn es eine richtige Bemerkung ist, dass Socrates die Ethik in die Philosophie eingeführt habe, wie Sophocles die zweite Person in den dramatischen Dialog, cet.lerey. hanc Sophocles ad scenam exornandam primus adhibuit, cum solita illa pingendi ars haud dubie iam ante ipsum circa scenas versata esset. aliud est de quo loquitur Vitruvius in praefatione libri VII.
14.
mvp-aristotle-comment-30
Ritter, cap. 4 § 14
ἔτι δὲ τὸ μέγεθος ἐκ μικρῶν μύθων καὶ λέξεως γελοίας - ὀψὲ ἀπεσεμνύνθη:
ἀποσεμνύνειν est ea magnificentiae specie circumdare, ut quidquid contrarium est amoveatur. sero id factum vere dicit Aristoteles, cum etiam in fabulis Aeschyli et Sophoclis nonnulla ridiculae dictionis vestigia compareant. plura haud dubie apud Thespin (eum enim potissimum hic videtur respicere) supererant, sed illud noli colligere ex his verbis, totam Thespidis dictionem ridiculam sive
γελοίαν fuisse et omnes eius tragoedias ex fabulis perexiguis compositas esse. componitur enim h. 1. tragoedia plane exculta (
ἡ ἀποσεμνυνθεῖσα) et perfecta cum ea quae ex satyrorum ludicris mutaverat 8), et parvae fabulae (
μικροὶ μῦθοι) prae complexionibus rerum, quales in perfectis exhibentur tragoediis, dicuntur. haec igitur si de Thespide eiusque aequalibus intelligenda sunt, quod negari vix poterit, verba illa interiecta
διὰ τὸ ἐκ σατυρικοῦ μεταβαλεῖν magni momenti sunt ad artis tragicae apud Athenienses primordia et incrementa accuratius definienda. inde enim cum appareat Thespidis fabulam ex satyrico genere (
ἐκ τοῦ σατυρικοῦ) iam mutasse (
μεταβαλεῖν), indidem censequitur ab eodem poeta satyrorum chorum ex tragoedia amandatum aliumque novo tragoediae generi magis convenientem substitutum esse, id quod aliis indiciis egregie confirmatur. conf. quae docte disputata sunt a Welckero in Appendice ad trilog. Aeschyl. p. 257-273.
τό τε μέτρον ἐκ τετραμέτρου ἰαμβεῖον ἐγένετο: pergit tragoediam dramaticam inventore Thespide recens natam componere cum ea quam Aeschylus et Sophocles a se mire cultam praestiterunt. nimirum cum Thespis et qui 8) Id ipsum Thespide auctore factum esse ex aliis veterum locis colligitur. mutare
οὐδετέρως positum esse neminem fugiet.aetate suppares plerumque in partibus cantu carentibus tetrametro trochaico uterentur, inde ab Aeschyli invento in eius locum senarius plerumque successit. si quis ex his verbis concludere vellet Thespidis aequaliumque tragoediis senarium omnino defuisse, is non minus erraret quam si quis hoc loco fretus diceret Aeschylum et Sophoclem tetrametrum e dialogo omnino removisse. neque vero id dicere vult philosophus, antiquissimam illam
τραγικὴν ἀοιδὴν actore carentem tetrametris inclusam fuisse, a Thespidis autem aetate senarium successisse : nam si prisca
τραγικὴ ἀοιδὴ tetrametris constaret et pro iis senarii succederent, ecce aderat tragoedia meris senariis composita, qualem nunquam exstitisse certum est. inde manifestum est non componi h. 1. tragoediam istam dithyrambicam et eam quam Thespis invenit, sed eam quae iam non tota canendo et saltando sed colloquiis etiam peragebatur (Thespidis), cum ea quae ad summum culturae gradum pervenerat. hoc ita se habere certius etiam collato ex Rhetoricis loco III, 1. pag. 1404 a 29. intelligitur:
οὐδὲ γὰρ οἱ τὰς τραγῳδίας 9)
ποιοῦντες ἔτι χρῶνται τὸν αὐτὸν τρόπον,
ἀλλ᾽ ὥσπερ καὶ ἐκ τῶν τετραμέτρων εἰς τὸ ἰαμβεῖον μετέβησαν διὰ τὸ τῷ λόγῳ τοῦτο τῶν μέτρων ὁμοιότατον εἶναι,
οὕτω καὶ τῶν ὀνομάτων ἀφείκασιν ὅσα παρὰ τὴν διάλεκτόν ἐστιν. quae igitur ab uno Thespidis actore in narrationibus et in colloquiis cum choro habitis plerumque tetrametris adstricta pronuntiabantur, ea ab Aeschyli aetate duo illi actores versibus iambicis inclusa loquebantur, 9)
Οἱ τὰς τραγῳδίας ποιοῦντες sunt earum tragoediarum scriptores quae vulgo vocantur, ut et tota sententia et ipsum verbum
ποιεῖν monstrat. non recte me iudice Welckerus in Appendice ad trilog. Aeschyl. p. 239. statuit dithyrambum et iustam tragoediam uno
τραγῳδίας nomine ab Aristotele comprehensam esse. locum ex Rhetoricis allatum cum ego aliter ac Welckerus intelligendum et pro certo duce habendum existimem, iis quoque quae idem vir ingeniosus in libro laudato p. 262 et 263. de hoc Poeticae loco exposuit, omni ex parte assentiri non possum.ita tamen ut hoc paulatim in consuetudinem converteretur : nam et in Aeschyli Persis (ea omnium quas etiamnum legimus tragoediarum antiquissima est) tetrametri sat multi in colloquiis admissi leguntur (vid. 155-245.703-758), neque a ceteris principum tragoediae scriptorum fabulis prorsus relegati sunt. verba igitur
το τε μέτρον ἐκ τετραμέτρου ἰαμβεῖον ἐγένετο, item quae subsequuntur
λέξεως δὲ γενομένης αὐτὴ ἡ φύσις τὸ οἰκεῖον μέτρον εὗρεν, non de mutatione subito facta accipere licet, sed de ea quae sensim sensimque et longo temporis intervallo invaluit. nam
τὸ μὲν γὰρ πρῶτον τετραμέτρῳ ἐχρῶντο - τὴν ποίησιν: haec usque ad
λεκτικῆς ἁρμονίας per parenthesin inseruntur, quod cum non vidissent priores editores, illi in subsequentibus
ἔτι δὲ ἐπεισοδίων πλήθη verbum unde haec pendeant frustra circumspexerunt. dum scribit Aristoteles
τὸ μὲν γὰρ πρῶτον - ποίησιν, non respicit priscam illam
τραγικὴν ἀοιδὴν ex tempore fusam, cuius numerum fortasse ne ipse quidem satis cognitum habuit, sed eam dramaticae tragoediae formam quae non multo ante Aeschylum fuit. si totius loci habitum diligenter consideramus, hoc intelligimus, inde a §. 13. nonnisi de tragoedia dramatica (non etiam de lyrica
ἀοιδῇ τραγικῇ quae fuit ante Thespin) loqui Aristotelem apparet, ita ut eam formam quae erat ante Aeschylum componat cum ea quae Aeschylo auctore et Sophocle effloruit. sed rursus cavendum ne illis
διὰ τὸ σατυρικὴν εἶναι τὴν ποίησιν tantum tribuamus ut, aliis locis indiciisque quamvis repugnantibus, Thespidi et Choerilo Phrynichoque satyrorum chorum tribuamus: nam
σατυρικὴν (motoriam levemque) quomodo intelligi velit adiecto
καὶ ὀρχηστικωτέραν satis declaravit. de numero trochaico levioribus argumentis et saltatoriae poesi apto Aristoteles in Rhetoricis III, 8. p. 1408 b 36. haec exponit:
ὁ δὲ τροχαῖος κορδακικώτερος·
δηλοῖ δὲ τὰ τετράμετρα·
ἔστι γὰρ τροχερός ῥυθμὸς τὰ τετράμετρα.
λέξεως δὲ γενομένης: quamquam Thespidis tragoediae aliqua
λέξις denegari nequit, unus tamen eius actor quasipro supplemento chori canentis saltantisque accipi potuit. id Aristoteles videtur fecisse, cum
λέξιν eo nomine dignam Aeschyliae demum tragoediae duos actores inter sese colloquentes producenti concesserit. sed si quis
λέξεως δὲ γενομένης de ipso Thespide dictum existimet, ego quidem non vehementer refragabor, sed vel sic non sequetur Thespidem illum esse qui tetrametris senarios substituerit: nam illa
αὐτὴ ἡ φύσις τὸ οἰκεῖον μέτρον εὗρεν non ita intelligi necesse est, ut statim post
λέξιν inductam numerus iambicus successerit, sed de hoc numero sensim sensimque in prisci locum recepto accipi possunt. -
μάλιστα γὰρ λεκτικὸν -τὸ ἰαμβεῖόν ἐστιν: conf. Rhetor. III, 8. p. 1408 b 33.
ὁ δὲ ἴαμβος αὐτὴ ἐστιν ἡ λέξις τῶν πολλῶν·
διὸ μάλιστα πάντων τῶν μέτρων ἰαμβεῖα φθέγγονται λέγοντες. –
καὶ ἐκβαίνοντες τῆς λεκτικῆς ἁρμονίας: nove sed apte communis sermonis habitum
λεκτικὴν ἁρμονίαν appellavit. his repugnantia tradere videtur in Rhetoricis III, 8. p. 1408 b 32.
ὁ μὲν ἠρῷος (
ῥυθμός)
σεμνὸς καὶ λεκτικὸς καὶ ἁρμονίας δεόμενος, sed videtur tantum. nam eo loco
ἁρμovía concentus est instrumentorum musicorum, quo carere hexameter ideoque nudo sermoni convenire (
λεκτικός) recte dicitur. itaque coniectura a Tyrwhitto ad Poeticam p. 136. proposita (
καὶ λεκτικῆς ἁρμονίας δεόμενος) et sane solerter excogitata carere poterimus.
ἔτι δὲ ἐπεισοδίων πλήθη καὶ τὰ ἄλλα: verbum
ἐγένετο ex initio §. 14. vel aliud cognatae significationis assumptum intelligendum est.
15.
mvp-aristotle-comment-31
Ritter, cap. 4 § 15
περί μὲν οὖν τούτων τοσαῦτα desunt AcBcNa et Mediceis omnibus et GQ; in P (Parisiensi 2040) adscripta margini reperiuntur, et Vallae Pacciique versiones Latinae itemque exemplar Aldinum eadem agnoscunt. omissa videntur a correctore qui
ἔτι δὲ ἐπεισοδίων πλήθη quo referret cum non inveniret, deletis nonnullis scripsit
ἔτι δὲ ἐπεισοδίων πλήθη καὶ τὰ ἄλλα,
ὡς ἕκαστα κοσμηθῆναι λέγεται,
ἔστω ἡμῖν εἰρημένα. iam structuram iste sustentavit, sententiam pessum dedit: nihil enim eiusmodi adhuc dictum est.5. §. 1. 121
1.
mvp-aristotle-comment-32
Ritter, cap. 5 § 1
De fine comoediae proposito. initia comoediae in obscuro versantur. epopoeia tragoediam ita secuta est ut graves imitari pergeret, differt ab eadem eo quod narratio est, etiam metro et temporis spatio. partes aliae eaedem, aliae tragoediae peculiares. Tragoediae initiis et incrementis breviter expositis, accedit ad comoediam, non eo consilio ut ipsius naturam accurate definiat (id alii huius operis loco exsequendum reservavit), sed ut proposita comicae poesis a tragoedia diversitate atque explicata tragoediae et epopoeiae partim similitudine partim differentia dilucidetur, quomodo poesis in varias species diffusa sit, quasque immutationes earum quaeque subierit.
ἡ δὲ κωμῳδία-τὸ γελοῖον μόριον: tragoediam imitari quam vulgo reperiantur meliores, comoediam autem peiores, id dictum erat cap. 2, 4. iam accuratius definitur quatenus peiores comoedia imitetur. comoedia enim non pingit homines omni pravitatis genere corruptos, sed qui ea dedecoris specie qua continetur ridiculum turpes compareant, paulo licentius post
οὐ μέντοι κατὰ πᾶσαν κακίαν posuit quod contrarium
ἀλλὰ τοῦ αἰσχροῦ ἐστὶ τὸ γελοῖον μόριον. scilicet haec scripsit ita, ut ridiculum (
τὸ γελοῖον) a comicis poetis exprimi notum certumque esse legentibus acciperet praesumeretque. plenius ac planius dixisset
ἀλλὰ τῶν γε λοίων οἱ κοινωνοῦσι τοῦ αἰσχροῦ. ceterum haec scripsisse Aristotelem respicientem potissimum antiquam Graecorum comoediam, cui
τὸ αἰσχρὸν raro deerat, verbo monuisse sufficiat. conf. Ethic. Nicom. IV, 14 med.
τὸ γὰρ γελοῖόν ἐστιν ἁμάρτημά τι κα καὶ αἶσχος ἀνώδυνον καὶ οὐ φθαρτικόν : qui aliquid negotii agunt, ii risum excitant ubi ratione perperam inita a fine proposito aberrant (
ἁμαρτάνουσιν). quod initae rationi non respondet eventus, ridiculum est, si ex ea aberratione neque dolor neque pernicies sed nonnisi turpe quoddam nascitur. exemplum quod subsequitur, sumptum a comica persona, co non totam suam
τοῦ γελοίου definitionem voluit illustrare, sed id unum declarare quo intellectu posuerit
ἀνώδυνον καὶ οὐ φθαρτικόν. comoediae ingenio externus agentium habitus et figura convenire debet. Quod de natura
τοῦ γελοίου accuratius in Poetica se dixisse eiusque genera pertractasse profitetur in Rhetoricis I, 11. p. 1372 a 1. et III, 18. p. 1419 b5., id haud dubie fecit in operis parte nobis perdita, ubi separatim de comoedia exposuit. conf. Praefatio.
2.
mvp-aristotle-comment-33
Ritter, cap. 5 § 2
χορόν κωμῳδῶν ὀψέ ποτε ὁ ἄρχων ἔδωκεν: primo non magni aestimatam esse comoediam inde docet, quod archon ad chorum comicum et conducendum et omni apparatu ornandum poetis comoedias in certamen commissuris sero demum choragum impensas praebentem ex civibus ditissimis 1) assignaverit. hoc est
χορὸν διδόναι, poeta ipse
χορὸν λαβεῖν dicitur, si fabula eius archonti probata in certamen admittitur, atque chorus ad eam docendam decernitur. vid. Aristophanes Ran. 94. Hesychius (correctus a Bergkio in Commentat. de reliquiis comoediae Atticae p. 30.)
πῦρ πυρὶ ἔγχει·
Κρατῖνος ἀπὸ διθυράμβου ἐν Βουκόλοις ἀρξάμενος,
ἐπειδὴ χορὸν οὐκ ἔλαβε παρὰ τοῦ ἄρχοντος,
παρ' οὗ ᾐτήκει. qui fabulam docendam archonti offert
αἰτεῖν χορὸν dicitur. lege Cratini fragmentum ex
Βουκόλοις servatum ab Athenaeo XIV. p. 638 F.
ὃς οὐκ ἔδωκ᾽ αὐτοῦντι Σοφοκλέει χορόν,
κτλ. Aristophan. Equit. 513.
ἀλλ' ἐθελονταὶ ἦσαν: comoediarum scriptores aut ipsi aut eorum amici sumptus ad chorum docendum et instruendum diu fecerunt: publice sero tandem choragis datis adiuti sunt. Cra- 1) De choragia choragique officiis diligenter et accurate expositum est a Boeckhio in Oeconomia Atheniensium t. I. p. 487 sqq. conf. Schoemanni Antiquitates iuris publici Graecorum p. 324.tinus primus videtur fuisse qui fere chorum ab archonte acciperet, quamquam etiam huic interdum denegatum esse comperimus ex Hesychii verbis modo allatis. illa ipsa
Βουκόλων comoedia cum daretur,
κωμῳδοὺς ἐθελοντὰς fuisse iudico dissentiens hac in re a Bergkio 1. 1., qui Cratinum putat proximis Dionysiis, cum non multo ante repulsam tulisset, chorum impetravisse et hac opportunitate usum esse, ut omne irae virus in priorem istum archontem evomeret. ceterum nomen
ἐθελονταi hoc loco propter praegressum
χορὸν κωμῳδῶν non de ipsis poetis sed de
κωμῳδοῖς sive
χορευταῖς dictum intelligi debet, quamquam et ipsi poetae qui suis impensis chorum exornabant eo nomine designabantur. conf. Aelius Dionysius apud Eustathium p. 800, 30 (locum Tyrwhittus attulit) :
ἐθελοντής ὁ αὐθαιρέτως τι ποιῶν.
ἐκαλοῦντο δὲ καὶ ἐθελονταὶ διδάσκαλοι δραμάτων δηλαδή,
ὅτε τις μὴ λαβών χορὸν μηδὲ χορηγητὴν ἔχων ἑαυτῷ τὰ πάντα παρεῖχε.
οἱ λεγόμενοι αὐτῆς ποιηταί, h. e. qui a comoedia nomen invenerunt sive o
ἱ κωμῳδοποιοί. pro rudibus prisci temporis comoedis iam comoediarum poetae exstiterunt. ipsum nomen
κωμῳδοποιός ς.
κωμωδιοποιός artem indicat.
3.
mvp-aristotle-comment-34
Ritter, cap. 5 § 3
τίς δὲ πρόσωπα ἀπέδωκεν ἢ λόγους ἢ πλήθη ὑποκριτῶν: personarum inventio magni sane momenti erat, propterea quod et ridiculum (
τὸ γελοῖον) per eas facilius provocabatur et eorum qui notabantur vultus exprimi quodammodo poterant. porro quod codices offerunt
προλόγους, id haud dubie corruptum est. una enim eius nominis explicatio, quae quidem cum aliqua probabilitatis specie proferri potest et prolata est (ex cap. 12, 2), –
μέρος ὅλον τραγῳδίας τὸ πρὸ χοροῦ παρόδου -, ea, ut alia quae contra moneri possunt omittam 2), omni auctoritate destituta 2) Cordatissimus quisque quaerere necessario cogitur, cur prologorum potius inventionem quam exodorum vel episodiorum posuerit.est, cum ista tragici prologi definitio ab interpolatore profecta sit. cuius igitur nominis notio toto opere non explicatur neque commemoratur, id quomodo sine obscuritatis vitio tam nude poni h. 1. potuit? accedit quod et
πρόσωπα et
πλήθη ὑποκριτῶν ad externum comoediae habitum pertinent,
πρόλογος autem ipsam partem comoediae efficit: cur is igitur medius intercedit? quae cum ita sint, ego non dubitavi
λόγους ab Hermanno gratus accipere, sed idem ego in explicando eo nomine a viro ingenioso in alia discedo. ipse
λόγους argumenta intelligit, sed contra hanc interpretationem potest moneri quod modo ad
προλόγους exturbandos protulimus, inter notas externas medium interponi quod ad internam artem comicam pertineat. ego igitur
λόγους intelligo sermones, puta illa quae unus actor coram choro de scena aut narrando aut cum choreutis colloquendo itemque ea quae non multo post plures actores inter sese loquentes exsecuti sunt, ut
λόγοι ὑποκριτῶν opponantur
ᾄσμασι κωμῳδῶν sive
χορευτῶν. iam omnes res quae commemorantur externae sunt, personae et colloquia et numeri histrionum; deinde hic locus in comoedia respondet iis quae c. 4, 13. de tragoedia narrantur.
πλήθη ὑποκριτῶν est numerus duorum et numerus trium histrionum; denique
πλήθη ὑποκριτῶν apte post
λόγους succedunt: actores enim
λόγους exsequuntur.
τὸ δὲ μύθους ποιεῖν Ἐπίχαρμος καὶ Φόρμις: ex praegresso
ἀπέδωκεν verbum ad
μύθους ποιεῖν aptum cogitatione supplendum est, quod quo facilius fiat, semicolon pro puncto posui post
ἠγνόηται. Itali interpolatores mancum esse sermonem opinantes post
Φόρμις addiderunt
ἦρξαν, idque a nullo codice oblatum in Aldinum exemplar receptum et inde late propagatum est; quo cum soloeca facta esset oratio, Reizius interpolatam scripturam iterum interpolando dedit
τοῦ δὲ μύθους - Φόρμις ἦρξαν.
μύθους ποιεῖν est fabulas ex historia mythica petitas comoediis subiicere, quod persaepe ab Epicharmo factum esse et multa comoediarum eius nomina et ipsa fragmenta ostendunt. in nomine
μύθους, a vulgari loquendi usu hic quidem discessisse Aristotelem,tantum abest ut quidquam indicet, ut certum subsequatur indicium, id illum non fecisse, dico quae de Cratete Epicharmi imitatore subsequuntur,
τῶν δὲ ᾿Αθήνησιν Κράτης ήρξε και θόλου ποιεῖν λόγους καὶ μύθους, de quibus mox disputabimus. novo significatu nomen
μύθος positum est c. 6, 6., ubi tragoediae partes definiuntur, sed auctor ipse significavit a vulgari dicendi usu ibi sese recedere:
λέγω γὰρ μύθον τοῦτον τὴν σύνθεσιν τῶν πραγμάτων. a vero igitur aberrat Grysarius (de Doriensium comoedia quaest. p. 75), cum illo altero Aristotelis loco (c. 6, 6) fretus pronuntiat in hoc nostro (5,3)
μύθους ποιεῖν esse fabulam argumento serere, i. e. iustam comoediam facere. haec explicatio si vera esset, ex Aristotelis iudicio Cratini nobilissimi comici fabulis argumenta sive
συστάσεις πραγμάτων defuissent: nam ex Atheniensibus Crates primus Epicharmi consuetudinem secutus est. de Epicharmo et Phormide diligenter disseruit Grysarius in libro quem inscripsit de Doriensium comoedia quaestiones. -
τῶν δὲ ᾿Αθήνησιν Κράτης- λόγους καὶ μύθους. Cratetem Cratino natu minorem sed Aristophane paulo maiorem fuisse veterum scriptorum testimoniis constat docuitque Meinekius in Quaestionum scen. specim. I. p. 25 sqq. Crates a singulorum hominum irrisione abstinuit (
ἀφέμενος τῆς ἰαμβικῆς ἰδέας) et generales morum notationes rerumque descriptiones proposuit, quarum alias ex mythorum cyclo (
μύθους, Fabeln), alias ex vita communi vel ex libris
τῶν λογοποιῶν (
λόγους, Erzählungen) petivit. hanc explicationem praeivit Meinekiuş in libro laudato p. 26., nisi quod
λόγους ille paulo aliter accipere videtur, et ex aliqua parte Victorius in Commentariis p. 51.
4.
mvp-aristotle-comment-35
Ritter, cap. 5 § 4
ἡ μὲν οὖν ἐποποιία τῇ τραγῳδίᾳ μίμη - σις εἶναι σπουδαίων ἠκολούθησεν: epopoeia iuxta tragoediam ita incessit aequo gradu (
ἠκολούθησεν) ut hominum gravium imitatio esse permaneret. utrumque poesis genus temporis intervallo plures mutationes (
μεταβολάς) subiit, sed ita alteri alterum simile esse accidit, ut utrumque graves imitaretur. quibus rebus discrepet epopoeia a tragoediacontinuo explicatur. sed quid fiet de illis
μέχρι μόνου μέτρου μεγάλου ? scilicet differre a tragoedia epopociam nonnisi versibus longis 3) edocemur. falsissimum esse et pugnare cum ceteris Aristotelis verbis primo adspectu in oculos incurrit: ipse enim non unum quoddam sed tria continuo affert, quibus epopoeia diversa sit a tragoedia. ineptissimum sane emblema non usque ad hunc diem tolerassent editores, nisi pro omnium codicum scriptura
μεγάλου novi interpolatores (aut Aldus ipse aut qui eius codicem correxerant) substituissent
μετὰ λόγου, quod idem valere ac
καὶ λόγου 4) videntur credidisse. sed et repugnat usus Graeci sermonis neque, si addiceret, vel sic sana sententia prodiret: sermone enim differre utrumque genus tam universe ac simpliciter pronuntiari nequit. sed sic ut
μετὰ λόγου post
μέρχι μόνου μέτρου additum legitur, id vix aliud potest esse nisi cum ratione, quod alienissimum est. inepto hoc additamento inepto auctori restituto, facilis est loci explanandi ratio. nam primum affertur qua in re tragoedia et epopoeia consentiant, deinde epopoeiam et metro differre et enarrandi ratione et temporis ambitu recte monetur. a narrando poesis
τῷ μήκει, h. e.
μέτρον ἁπλοῦν est quam compositionem
κατὰ στίχον grammatici appellant. -
καὶ ἀπαγγελίαν εἶναι : duae
ἀπαγγελίας species c. 3, 1. definiuntur, una quae simpliciter narrat, altera quae inducit narrantes. epica
διηγηματική vocatur c. 23, 1. teraporis spatio quo res gestae a poeta sive epico sive tragico propositae comprehenduntur.
μάλιστα πειρᾶται: hoc dicit, quoniam plures tragicorum poetarum hanc legem egressos esse non ignorabat. -
ἡ δὲ ἐποποιία ἀόρι- 3) Quaesitum est num voci
μέχρι insit vis excludendi. non inest praepositioni potestas excludendi, sed inest nomini negativo
μόνου. 4) Hermannus cum
καὶ λόγου scriberet pro
μετὰ λόγου, Graecitati sermonis opem tulit, sed non cogitavit se interpolare scripturam iam interpolatam.
στος τῷ χρόνῳ: dicit temporis ambitum epopoeiae convenientem definiri certo dierum vel annorum numero non posse. noli credere hoc Aristotelem docere, poetae epico licere vel longissimi temporis res gestas enarrare: veriora enim ipse docuit c. 8 et praecipue c. 23.
1.
mvp-aristotle-comment-36
Ritter, cap. 6 § 1
De tragoediae forma et fine. partes eius esse sex et gravissimam quidem fabulam sive
τὸν μύθον. Poeticae causas postquam universe declaravit et praecipuas eius formas demonstravit, genera poesis singillatim pertractare eorumque formam et vim explicare pergit. incipit a tragoedia, deinceps descendit ad epopoeiam, denique ad comoediam pervenit, sed in operis parte nobis deperdita. rectius ille haud dubie poesin epicam primo loco expediendam sibi sumpsisset: ea enim non solum simplicissima est ex omnibus generibus et antiquissima, sed etiam ita subiecta tragoediae, ut haec ipsa tamquam filia pulchrior ex decora matre in luminis auras prodierit, sed quia tragoedia magis culta et perfecta ei videbatur, ab hac disputationis initium capere maluit, ut de epopoeia brevius posset absolvere, via interim ad illam disputationem praemunita. vid. c. 5 extr. sed si opus integrum ad nos pervenisset, maius videremus, credo, incommodum huic poeticae artis explicationi inde accidisse, quod non utramque dramatici generis speciem, tragoediam dico comoediamque, deinceps tractavit, sed alteram a priore illata epopoeiae explicatione discrevit.
περὶ μὲν οὖν τῆς ἐν ἑξαμέτροις μιμητικῆς - ἐροῦμεν : quam vulgo
ἐποποιίαν vocant, eam h. 1.
τὴν ἐν ἑξαμέτροις μιμητικὴν appellavit. infra (c. 23, 1) epopoeiam quam vulgo intelligunt, nomen ipsum evitaturus,nam designavit
τὴν διηγηματικὴν καὶ ἐν μέτρῳ μιμητικήν. cum
ἐποποιίας nomine in operis principio (c. 1, 6) nove usus esset, telam pertexens modo ad vulgarem dicendi usum revolvitur modo ab ipso nomine abstinere voluit.
ἀπολαβόντες αὐτῆς - ὅρον τῆς οὐσίας: tragoediae forma et habitus in antecedentibus iam exposita, originesque et incrementa breviter enarrata erant. inde igitur sumi (
ἀπολαμβάνεσθαι) poterat definitio (
ὅρος), ita tamen ut finis tragoediae nunc demum indicetur. dictum enim ante erat (c. 2 et 3) tragoediam esse eam agentium imitationem ut agentes ipsi producerentur narratioque excluderetur, esse porro imitationem meliorum (
βελτιόνων) hominum graviumque (
σπουδαίων); dictum erat praeterea c. 5, 4. eandem certo temporis ambitu fere includi, nec saltationem cantumque et dictionem coniuncta in illa reperiri (c. 1, 10). ea iam in unum collecta ita augentur, ut simul quem finem tragoedia propositum habeat declaretur.
2.
mvp-aristotle-comment-37
Ritter, cap. 6 § 2
πράξεως σπουδαίας καὶ τελείας:
σπουδαίαν intelligit actionem cui magnus quidam finis propositus est, ad quem consequendum omnes eorum qui agunt vires ita intenduntur, ut ipsi aut concidant. aut post varios casus voti compotes fiant.
τελεία est actio cui nihil deest, cuius est principium et medium et finis. conf. c. 7, 3. eandem aliis in locis modo
τελείαν καὶ ὅλην (c. 7,2) modo simpliciter
ὅλην (c. 8, 4) vocavit.
μέγεθος ἔχουσης: ut tragoediae vim et finem spectatores percipiant, actio tragica ambitum quendam rerumque complexionem habeat oportet, accuratius non multo post (c. 7, 2) dixit
τι μέγεθος: non enim quaevis magnitudo intelligitur, sed quae vulgo vocatur.
χωρὶς ἑκάστου τῶν εἰδῶν ἐν τοῖς μορίοις: ita ut non quaeque formarum in partibus (tragoediae) assit. haec breviter significavit c. 1 extr., ubi dithyrambos nomosque et tragoediam comoediamque consentire dixit quod numero (saltatione) uterentur et cantu et metro, differre quod dithyrambi nomique illis coniunctis (
ἅμα πᾶσιν), comoediatragoediaque eisdem separatis (
κατά μέρος) imitationem peragerent. quae si contulerimus iis quae de eadem re paulo post dicuntur, - §. 3.
τὸ δὲ χωρὶς τοῖς εἶδεσι τὸ διὰ μέτρων ἔνια μόνον περαίνεσθαι καὶ πάλιν ἕτερα διὰ μέλους-, a vera huius loci interpretatione non aberrabimus.
εἴδη sive imitandi formae (Darstellungsweisen) tres sunt in tragoedia, dictio numero adstricta (
τὰ μέτρα), cantus (
μέλος), saltatio (
ὄρχησις). hae formae non omnes in singulis partibus tragoediae coniunctae reperiuntur, sed ubi metrica est oratio, ibi non etiam cantica 1) et saltatio: nam nonnulla (§. 3) solis metris absolvuntur et rursus alia per cantum. alii aliter explicant, quos neque reprehendere neque laudare attinet: sed unum moneo, non licere immutata codicum scriptura in eiusmodi locis verae certaeque interpretationi fundamenta subtrahere.
μόρια quae h. 1. memorantur, non sunt eae tragoediae partes quae mox enumerantur, sed indefinite partes tragoediae deinceps positas intellexit.
δρώντων καὶ οὐ δι' ἀπαγγελίας: tragoedia agentes ipsos producit, epopoeia quamvis
δραματικῶς composita aut ipsa narrat aut nonnisi quasi agentes introducit, ut proprium eius negotium sit
ἀπαγγελία. conf. c. 5, 4. caute hic noster scripsit
δρώντων καὶ οὐ δι᾽ ἀπαγγελίας, non
δρώντων καὶ οὐκ ἀπαγγελλόντων, propterea quod etiam in tragoediis
ῥήσεις ἀγγελικαὶ inveniuntur, sed ipsae eiusmodi narrationes agentes nuntios (
δρῶντας) requirunt. tragoedia igitur dum
ἀπαγγελίαν (epicam narrationem) excludit,
ἀπαγγέλ λοντας tamen admittit. post
ἀπαγγελίας particulam
ἀλλὰ ! Aldo auctore plerique editores, praecipue antiquiores, infarserunt, sed vocula inepta a nullo codice agnosci videtur: abest saltem ab AcBcNa (id ex Bekkeri silentio aliisque indiciis certe consequitur), a Mediceis omnibus et a G.Q. mire 1) Dixerit aliquis "nonne canticis choricis subiecta est metrica oratio?" est sane; sed Aristoteles
τὰ μέτρα appellat quae cantu destituta sunt,
μέλος et
μελοποιίαν lyricam tragoediae partem.illa torsit cum alios tum Lessingium. vid. Dramaturg. Hamb. c. 74.
δι' ἐλέου καὶ φόβου περαίνουσα τὴν τῶν τομ ούτων παθημάτων κάθαρσιν : quid tragoedia efficiat vel efficere debeat, nondum significatum est; hoc igitur novum in definitione accedit neque ex antegressis colligitur. de sententia his verbis subiecta copiose disputavit Lessingius in libro laudato t. II. c. 74-78. conf. Raumerus de Aristotelis Poetica in Commentationibus academiae regiae Berolinensis a. 1828 (Berolini 1831) p. 125 sqq. illud recte Lessingius probe tenendum praecepit c. 75., tam
έλεον quam
φόβον communis notionis vinculo contineri, quatenus quod in aliis hominibus miseratione nos afficit, idem ne nobis accidat timemus. miseratio enim metusque in nobis oriuntur, ubi calamitatem aliis ex propinquo incumbentem vel impendentem videmus, et miseratio quidem excitatur, si miseram condicionem eorum qui eam non commeruerunt spectamus, metus, si eandem calamitatem nobis accidere posse credimus, hoc est illud quod
τὰ φοβερὰ καὶ τὰ ἐλεεινὰ δι' ἄλληλα esse c. 9, 11. pronuntiatur. utramque animi perturbationem Aristoteles accurate definivit in Rhetoricis II, 5 init. et 8 init. illic de metu haec afferuntur:
ἔστω δὴ φόβος λύπη τις ἢ ταραχή ἐκ φαντασίας μέλλοντος κακοῦ φθαρτικοῦ ἢ λυπηροῦ·
οὐ γὰρ πάντα τὰ κακὰ φοβοῦνται,
οἷον εἰ ἔσται ἄδικος ἢ βραδύς,
ἀλλ' ὅσα λύπας μεγάλας ἢ φθοράς δύναται,
καὶ ταῦτ᾽ ἐὰν μὴ πόρρω ἀλλὰ σύνεγγυς φαίνηται ὥστε μέλλειν. altero loco miseratio sic definitur:
ἔστω δὴ ἔλεος λύπη τις ἐπὶ φαινομένῳ κακῷ φθαρτικῷ καὶ λυπηρῷ τοῦ ἀναξίου τυγχάνειν,
ὃ κἂν αὐτὸς προσδοκήσειεν ἂν παθεῖν ἢ τῶν αὐτοῦ τινά,
καὶ τοῦτο,
ὅταν πλησίον φαίνηται. iam tragoediae eum finem propositum esse audimus, ut ea per miserationem et metum tales animi perturbationes purget. sed quae sunt illae tales perturbationes (
τοιαῦτα παθήματα)? num ipsa miseratio metusque? et nego et aio. nego, quia non
τοιούτων scriptum oportuit sed
τούτων, si miseratio et metus simpliciter denotarentur, nego quia non quamcumque miserationém neque quemcumque metum
πάθημα esse scio: sed idem aio per
τοιούτων παθημάτων affectiones miserationis et metus significari, quia scriptum lego
διὰ ἐλέου καὶ φύ βου περαίνουσα τὴν κάθαρσιν τῶν τοιούτων παθημάτων, sed eas intelligo affectiones quae sua vi hominis mentem turbant et animum commotum quam maxime reddunt, eas quarum purgationem in rebus utilissimis referri decet. itaque philosophus ne potuit quidem
τούτων scribere sed
τοιούτων debuit, cum nollet hoc pronuntiari, per tragoediam purgari quamcumque miserationem metumque, sed illam miserationem metumque, quorum vi animus et mens perturbarentur, h. e. miserationis metusque affectiones ita vehementes, ut in numero
παθημάτων reponendae sint 2). deinceps dicendum est quomodo tragoedia eas perturbationes purget. id ut efficere possit, necesse videtur esse, ut miserationem et metum excitet: nam per haec illa miserationis et metus
παθήματα purgari dicuntur. excitantur ergo in spectatoribus miseratio et timor, dum tragoedia insignem calamitatem magnosque labo- 'res aut uni dramatis personae aut pluribus etiam incumbentem vel impendentem ostendit oculisque sive spectantium sive legentium quasi explicatam subiicit. nam dum ipsi agunt illi quibus mala accidunt, haec ex propinquo et imminent et 2) Lessingius in Dramaturgia Hamburg. c. 77. dicit Aristotelem
τοιούτων eo consilio scripsisse, ut metum misericordiamque et omnes similes affectiones, v. c.
τὸ φιλάνθρωπον, purgari per tragoediam significaret. sed illud
φιλάνθρωπον (conf c. 13,2) neque
πάθημα est neque purgatione eget. verba viri peracuti haec respicio: "Er sagt aber
τοιούτων und nicht
τούτων; er sagt dieser und dergleichen, und nicht bloss dieser: um anzuzeigen, dass er unter dem Mitleid nicht bloss das eigentlich sogenannte Mitleid, sondern überhaupt alle philanthropische Empfindungen, so wie unter der Furcht nicht bloss die Unlust über ein uns bevorstehendes Uebel, sondern auch jede damit verwandte Unlust verstehe.”
πάθημα est perturbatio, Leidenschaft,
πάθος quamcumque animi affectionem denotat.incumbunt. etiam illud a poeta tragico, si quid deceat haud ignorat, prospicitur, ut calamitas non tam flagitio vel scelere adducatur quam errore quodam vel leviore peccato paretur. vid. c. 13. §. 2 et 3. etenim ad miserationem requiritur ut calamitatem quam quis perpetitur non omnino commeruerit is cuius miseremur. itaque actio tragica omnia continet quibus opus est ad miserationem in nobis excitandam. porro si homines in tragoediis qui producuntur propter peccata non admodum gravia et propter humanae infirmitatis errores acerbis adversae fortunae plagis affligi videmus, dumque recordamur et nos homines esse humanique generis vitiis et erroribus obnoxios, tum ne nobis idem quod oculis expositum est vel simile quoddam infortunium accidat, timere incipimus. itaque tragicam actionem spectantes et ob nostri et totius humani generis sortem metu quodam tangimur. adhuc diximus quomodo per tragoediam miseratio et metus excitetur: explicandum restat, qua ratione eiusmodi perturbationes purgentur. primum quaeritur quid sit
κάθαρσις παθημάτων, non esse eandem ac
καθαίρεσιν vel
ἀναίρεσιν per se patet: immo
κάθαρσις est ea affectuum animi conformatio, ut omne nimium et omne quod perturbat animum mentemque humanam inde removeatur. hanc esse veram nominis significationem et huius loci ratio et alius in Aristotelis Politicis (VIII, 7. p. 1342 a 11 et 14) ostendit. itaque non id agit tragoedia, ut miseratio et metus ex animis nostris tollantur, sed ut nimia perturbantis cuiusdam miserationis metusque vis et impetus frangatur 3). id quomodo a tragoedia perficiatur videamus. si talis est miseratio nostra metusque, ut propter calamitatem immerito alicui accidentem nonnisi gravem et acerbum dolorem sentiamus simulque humiliter et vehementer metuamus ne nobis 3) Bene Raumerus 1. 1. pag. 134.: "Die Reinigung ist keineswegs, wie einige gedeutet haben, eine Vernichtung der Leidenschaften, sondern ..eine Hinführung auf das Mittlere, mit Ausschliessung des zu viel und zu wenig.idem accidat, eiusmodi affectus animi nos deprimit et diffundit (
ποιεῖ κατακωχίμους. v. Aristoteles loco ex Politicis indicato); contrahit idem animi magnitudinem (
τὸ σεμνὸν συστέλλει) atque omnino intelligendi facultatem minuit et ratiocinandi considerandique negotium impedit; quid multa? ita integra et animi et mentis sanitas corrumpitur. iam si tragoedia hanc vim haberet, ut eiusmodi perturbationes excitaret et libere soluteque grassari sineret, ea sane legibus quam severissimis interdicenda et ex omnibus civitatibus bene constitutis expellenda esset. sed inde demum divina tragoediae vis se ostendit, quod miserationis et metus nimias affectiones purgat. purgat vero duobus modis. 1. qui insigni calamitate conflictatur in tragoedia, is contra necessitatem 4) summa virium contentione nititur et post varios casus aut concidit nobili leto aut superior discedit laeto eventu. ea consideratio, quantae sint hominum vires, spectatorem evehit eique virium humano generi concessarum scientiam largitur. ita et miseratio et metus iustis finibus continentur, ut omne nimium vel perturbatorium eis ademptum videatur. pro vehementibus animi motibus quieta cogitatio, pro perturbationibus sana rerum humanarum consideratio invalescit. 2. tragoedia miserationem metumque purgat, dum illum qui gravia perpetitur saltem ex aliqua parte ipsum suae calamitatis auctorem fuisse ostendit. vera enim tragoedia quamvis obscure monstrare non negligit, quomodo miseriis sese qui premitur subtrahere potuisset, si is ab initio iustoque etiam tempore omnes animi nervos intendisset totamque mentis considerationem adhibuisset. eiusmodi autem consideratione miseratio metusque rursus purgantur, et conscientia intellectusque praestantiae humanae excitatur. duobus hisce modis rudes illae et deprimentes sive contrahentes affectiones animi cohibentur et ad sanae mentis considerationem relatae castigantur, ut inde 4) Necessitatem dico eam rerum humanarum implicationem quae ipsis hominum erroribus vitiisque paratur.amoveatur quidquid nocere possit. quod ut fieri possit facilius, Graeca tragoedia chori sive recta suadentis et praecipientis sive prava et vitiosa severe diiudicantis interventu curavit. sed iam uberrimae disputationis, quae sane de xa-
θάρσει a choro Graecorum tragicorum effecta institui posset, occasionem praecido,. ne ab ipsa interpretatione verborum Aristoteliorum deficiam: ipsos Graecos quid sit chori officium docuit summus tragicorum poetarum in disputatione de choro a se edita, vid. Suid. s. v.
Σοφοκλῆς.
3.
mvp-aristotle-comment-38
Ritter, cap. 6 § 3
λέγω δὲ ἡδυσμένον μὲν λόγον τὸν ἔχον τα ῥυθμὸν καὶ ἁρμονίαν καὶ μέλος:
λόγος ὁ ἔχων ῥυθμὸν est
λόγος ἔμμετρος : numero enim condiri sive suavem reddi sermonem liquet ; numerumque metri patrem esse veteres dicere solebant. conf. ad c. 4, 6. quod c. 1, 10.
ῥυθ μός pro saltatione ponitur, id nihil impedit quo minus hunc
ῥυθμὸν pro numero sermonis accipiamus: numerus enim non magis sermoni quam saltationi competit. saltationem vero h. 1. intelligere non possumus, quoniam haec tragoediae quidem, sed non sermonis, est condimentum.
ἁρμονίαν καὶ μέλος est
ἁρμονικὸν μέλος, cantum harmoniae legibus aс- commodatum, quemadmodum
λόγοι καὶ μιμήσεις sunt
λόγοι μιμητικοὶ in fragmento operis
περὶ Ποιητῶν, quod transcripsimus pag. 84. quod Victorius
μέτρον pro
μέλος ex coniectura sua scripsit, id loci ratione non satis perspecta fecit.
διὰ μέτρων ἔνια μόνον περαίνεσθαι –
διὰ μέλους: nonnulla metrica tantum oratione (
διὰ μέτρων) alia cantu absolvuntur sive peraguntur. saltationem non memoravit, quia saltatio non sine canticis, cantica autem multa sine saltatione peraguntur. de significatione
μέτρων diximus ad c. 1,6.
4.
mvp-aristotle-comment-39
Ritter, cap. 6 § 4
ὁ τῆς ὄψεως κόσμος: quia personae agentes ipsae producuntur, et quidem homines gravitate conspicui ac fere claris natalibus orti, non solum scena opus est, sed co etiam apparatu quo viri graves et illustres instructi solent itaque non solum
ὄψις sed
ὄψεως κόσμος requiritur. etiam illud notandum est, ipsi Aristoteli
ὄψιν vel
ὄψεως κόσμον esse.videri necessariam tragoediae partem (
ἐξ ἀνάγκης τι μόριον τραγωδίας). aliter iudicavit huius operis interpolator infra §. 19 et c. 26, 3. vide quae ad illos locos monentur et ad c. 14, 1.
εἶτα μελοποιία καὶ λέξις: postquam agentes in conspectum spectatorum venerunt, eos aut loqui aut canere oportet: eo enim imitationem peragunt.
λέγω δὲ λέξιν μὲν αὐτὴν τὴν τῶν μέτρων σύνθεσιν:
λέξις vulgo quamcumque dictionem denotat, sed hoc loco Aristoteles orationem modis musicis cantuque carentem sed numeris tamen adstrictam
λέξιν nove vocavit. discrepat quod infra (§. 18) scripsit auctor personatus
λέγω δέ,
ὥσπερ πρότερον εἴρηται,
λέξιν εἶναι τὴν διὰ τῆς ὀνομασίας ἑρμηνείαν. –
μελοποιίαν δὲ ὃ τὴν δύναμιν φανερὰν ἔχει πᾶσαν: vocis
μελοποιίας in aperto esse omnem potestatem sive significationem dicit:
λέξιν enim modo posuit discedens a vulgari loquendi usu,
μελοποιίαν autem intelligit eam quam vulgo dicere solent.
πᾶσιν, non
πᾶσαν, legendum esse Madius putavit.
5.
mvp-aristotle-comment-40
Ritter, cap. 6 § 5
καὶ κατὰ ταύτας καὶ τυγχάνουσι καὶ ἀποτυγχάνουσι πάντες: omnes qui agunt finem propositum pro moribus suis et sentiendi ratione feliciter consequuntur aut inceptis suis excidunt. sapiens enim et temperatus nonnisi ea sectatur quae assequi potest : immoderatus contra et stultus nimis alta et iniqua et incredibilia cupere solet, ut a fine fere aberret.
6.
mvp-aristotle-comment-41
Ritter, cap. 6 § 6
ἔστι δὲ τῆς μὲν πράξεως ὁ μῦθος ἡ μίμησις : multi editores codicibus invitis articulum ante
μί μησις expungunt, sed frustra: hoc enim Aristoteles dicere vult, actionis imitationem de qua modo (§. 5) locutus erat contineri fabula (
τῷ μύθῳ) tragoediae subiecta. ipsum
μῦθον hisce definire non intendit, sed eius definitionem statim subiunxit.
λέγω γὰρ μῦθον τοῦτον τὴν σύνθεσιν τῶν πραγμάτων: dicit
μῦθον τοῦτον eum quem modo cogitabat, cum tragicae actionis imitationem contineri
τῷ μύθῳ pronuntiabat, h. e. nove et aliter ac vulgo
μύθου nomine h. 1.usus est. hoc si bene tenuerimus, errores nonnullos ab aliis viris doctis commissos cavere poterimus. vid. Comment. ad c. 5, 3 et c. 17, 3. ubi
μύθον ponit pro parte tragoediae vel epopoeiae, ibi hic novus et technicus vocis significatus valet: alioqui etiam in hoc libro
μύθοι sunt fabulae (h. e. fabulosae narrationes). ·
τὰ δὲ ἤθη,
καθ' ἃ ποιούς τινας εἶναί φαμεν: recte scripsit
ποιούς τινας εἶναί φαμεν, non
ποιοί τινες εἰσί: nam etiam secundum
διάνοιαν sunt
ποιοί τινες, sed si
ποιό τητος hominum mentionem facimus, mores fere respicimus.
7.
mvp-aristotle-comment-42
Ritter, cap. 6 § 7
καθ' ἃ ποιά τις ἐστὶν ἡ τραγῳδία : partes illae formam tragoediae et qualitatem efficiunt. infra eaedem (c. 24, 1) nullo additamento
μέρη vocantur. interpolator huius operis
μέρη οἷς ὡς εἴδεσι χρῆται ἡ τραγωδία c. 12, 1. has partes designavit, idemque alteras tragoediae partes quantitatis habita ratione (
μέρη κατὰ τὸ ποσόν) constituit c. 12, 1., easque c. 18, 2.
μέρη simpliciter appellavit.
οἷς μὲν γὰρ μιμοῦνται,
δύο μέρη ἐστίν: sunt
λέξις et
μελοποιία. vid. §. 4.
ὡς δὲ μιμοῦνται,
ἓν : est
ὄψις. v. §. 4.
ἃ δὲ μιμοῦνται,
τρία: sunt
μῦθος et
ἤθη et
διάνοια.
8.
mvp-aristotle-comment-43
Ritter, cap. 6 § 8
τούτοις μὲν οὖν - ὡσαύτως: vide possisne vel minimum ingenii Aristotelii vestigium in his agnoscere: ego non potui. cuivis tragoediae inesse sex illas partes dicit auctor personatus: verus autem (§. 11) pronuntiat non solum fieri posse tragoediam moribus carentem sed etiam a novis poetis fere `
ἀήθεις τραγῳδίας fieri. porro ne sibimet ipsa quidem haec consentiunt. nam si
οὐκ ὀλίγοι αὐτῶν νίχ aliter atque de poetis tragicis accipi potest, primo non paucos eorum illis partibus (iste
εἶδεσι, non
μορίοις, posuit) usos esse et statim omnes isdem usos esse audimus. vel sic
οὐκ ὀλίγοι αὐτῶν mire et obscure dictum est. tertium interpolationis signum est quod eadem sex nomina frigide et inepte, h. e. sine ullo consilio, recurrunt. accedunt tria indicia secundaria quibus idem probatur. corum primum est mira illa tragicorum poetarum vel generatim poetarum designatio,
οὐκ ὀλίγοι αὐτῶν. alterum est
πᾶν nude positum, quod quo referatur non habet: interpolator
πᾶν δρᾶμα dicere videtur voluisse. tertium est additum
ὡς εἰπεῖν, quod homo iste dormitans sine ratione et consilio chartae illevit. quartum adeo accedit. codices enim a Bekkero et Burgesio et aliis collati aut
ὄψεις aut
ὄψις exhibent, ubi
ὄψις a librariis leviter a vero detortum est. quod Victorius in uno vetustissimo exemplari
ὄψιν invenit, id correctori vitium
ὄψις emendare temere festinanti tribuendum est, eo magis quod Madius
ὄψιν in margine trium librorum ab alia manu scriptum repperit. itaque
ὄψεις haud dubie vera scriptura est. sed Aristoteles ubi
ὄψιν pro parte tragoediae ponit, ibi constanter et recte singularem admisit, non pluralem. vid. c. 6, 4 et 7. c. 24, 1. interpolator igitur nomen
ὄψιν a se modo lectum ne repetere quidem recte potuit. conf. Comment. ad c. 6, 19.
9.
mvp-aristotle-comment-44
Ritter, cap. 6 § 9
ἡ γὰρ τραγῳδία μίμησίς ἐστιν οὐκ ἀνθρώπων: tragoedia non ipsos homines, h. e. totam eorum qualitatem exprimit, sed singula quaedam eorum facinora imitatur. qualitatem ita tantum pingit, quatenus ea ex actis intelligitur.
ἀλλὰ πράξεως [
καὶ βίου- οὐ ποιότης]: sic exhibemus hunc locum restitutum ex librorum scriptorum fide et purgatum additamentis, quae sive Aldus sive alii correctores Itali intulerunt. tragoediam esse imitationem vitae cuiusdam (
βίου) et felicitatis (
εὐδαιμονίας) pronuntiari utique nequit, ne de illis quidem tragoediis quae laeto eventu concluduntur. quid igitur fecerunt Itali ad hoc incommodum sublevandum vel tollendum? post
εὐδαιμονίας continuo inseruerunt
καὶ κακοδαιμονίας, ut iam tragoedia dicatur esse imitatio felicitatis et infelicitatis. restant alia. statim enim codices praebent
καὶ ἡ κακοδαιμονία ἐν πράξει ἐστι. haec cum vel correctis illis
καὶ εὐδαιμονίας καὶ κακοδαιμονίας male convenirent, iidem Itali scripserunt
καὶ γὰρ ἡ εὐδαιμονία ἐν πράξει ἐστι. antiqua igitur scriptura ex scriptis libris restituta, videamus quid ea faciendum sit. interpolator aliquis antiquus apud Aristotelem paulo post cum legeret
εἰσὶ..
κατὰ δὲ τὰς πράξεις εὐδαίμονες ἢ τουναντίον, inde sumpsit primum illud suum
καὶ βίου καὶ εὐδαιμονίας, et hoc post
πράξεως inseruit; tum propter illud
τούναντίον adiecit explicationis gratia
καὶ ἡ κακοδαιμονία ἐν πράξει ἐστί. porro cum legeret
εἰσὶ δὲ κατὰ μὲν τὰ ἤθη ποιοί τινες, et paulo post
ὥστε τὰ πράγματα καὶ ὁ μῦθος τέλος τῆς τραγωδίας, iste iam hic posuit
καὶ τὸ τέλος πρᾶξίς τις ἐστίν,
οὐ ποιότης. sed finem esse actionem, non qualitatem, monere h. 1. nihil attinebat. finis enim (
τὸ τέλος) per sese est quod homines omnibus factis suis consequi student (v. Ethica Nicom. 1, 5. Magna Mor. I, 4. Eudem. II, 1), tragoediae autem finis singulari quadam actione continetur. de fine igitur generatim dici quidquam h. 1. non aptum erat. quid, quod tragoediae finem esse
τὸν μῦθον (h. e.
πρᾶξιν sive
πράγματα) non multo post ex praecedentibus demum colligitur? sic:
ὥστε τὰ πράγματα καὶ ὁ μῦθος τέλος τῆς τραγῳδίας. itaque falsus scriptor verum praecurrens fini generatim vindicat 4) quae ille de tragoediae fine praedicat. insiticiis eiectis, Aristotelis ratiocinatio bene procedit, id quod manifestissimum est interpolationis indicium. propositio maior est
ἡ γὰρ τραγῳδία μίμησίς ἐστιν οὐκ ἀνθρώπων (h. e.
ποιότητος ἀνθρώπων)
ἀλλὰ πράξεως. sequitur minor
εἰσὶ δὲ (h. e. atqui sunt cet.)
κατὰ μὲν τὰ ἤθη ποιοί τινες,
κατὰ δὲ τὰς πράξεις εὐδαίμονες ἢ τουναντίον. inde hoc consectatarium est,
οὔκουν (non igitur)
ὅπως τὰ ἤθη (sive
τὴν ποιότητα)
μιμήσωνται πράττουσιν,
ἀλλὰ τὰ ἤθη συμπεριλαμβάνουσι διὰ τὰς πράξεις. ex his tribus pronuntiatis consequitur iam altera et primaria conclusio
ὥστε τὰ πράγματα καὶ ὁ μῦθος τέλος τῆς τραγῳδίας, cui cum successisset
τὸ δὲ τέλος μέγιστον ἁπάντων, nunc ostensum est quod demon- 4) Quae interpolator de fine (
τῷ τέλει) profert, ea Aristotelis doctrinae alibi expositae non quidem repugnant, sed Aristoteles ipse placita sua neque loco non apto neque nisi aliis libris allegatis afferre solet.13) strandum ante proposuerat (§.9 init.), dico
μέγιστον δὲ τούτων ἐστὶν ἡ τῶν πραγμάτων σύστασις. ex illo enim additamento
τὸ δὲ τέλος μέγιστον ἁπάντων apparet fabulam non solum potiorem esse moribus sed potiorem etiam ceteris tragoediae partibus.
11.
mvp-aristotle-comment-45
Ritter, cap. 6 § 11
post absolutam illam ratiocinationem (§. 9-10) hinc iam sequuntur quattuor
σημεῖα, quibus quae ante demonstrata sunt firmari auctor voluit. primum est, sine moribus fieri tragoediam posse, sine fabula non posse. a
12.
mvp-aristotle-comment-46
Ritter, cap. 6 § 12
ἔτι ἐάν τις ἐφεξῆς –
καὶ σύστασιν πραγμάτων: est alterum
σημεῖον. particulam negantem ante
ποιήσει ex Aldina recepi cum ceteris editoribus. codicibus omittitur, et quidem ab omnibus ut videtur; Buhlius certe ex Winstanleii silentio nimis festinanter collegit
οὐ inesse libris Mediceis. etiamsi concedere ultro velis, eum quoque qui deinceqs ponet sermones moratos et locutiones sententiasque bene factas, quodammodo facere quod sit tragici poetae officium, tum saltem scribi oportuit
ποιήσει μὲν ὅ ἐστι τῆς τραγῳδίας ἔργον. ut nunc est, particula negante carere non possumus.
13.
mvp-aristotle-comment-47
Ritter, cap. 6 § 13
tertium signum ad fabulae praestantiam et dignitatem declarandam ex partibus eius ducitur: nam cum eae valde graves sint, totum non minus grave esse sequitur. ceterum partes illae,
περιπέτεια et
ἀναγνώρισις, non in omnibus fabulis reperiuntur sed in unis implexis. haec igitur minus accurate scripta sunt.
14.
mvp-aristotle-comment-48
Ritter, cap. 6 § 14
ἔτι σημεῖον κτλ. accedit quartum
σημεῖον ad obtinendam sententiam §. 9. pronuntiatam. -
οἷον καὶ οἱ πρῶτοι ποιηταὶ σχεδὸν ἅπαντες : non solum tragoediarum scriptores qui certare primum incipiunt in operis summa solent deficere, sed ceteri quoque poetae fere omnes, cum carmina pangere primum adgrediuntur.
15.
mvp-aristotle-comment-49
Ritter, cap. 6 § 15
-19. quae iam sequuntur ab aliena manu Aristotelis operi inserta esse dico, et inserta quidem ab antiquo interpolatore qui hanc disputationem mancam esse ratus, cum unius fabulae dignitatis explicatio ei sufficere non videretur,ceterarum etiam partium ordinem et gradus exponendos sibi sumpsit, sed efficere quod operae pretium esset tamen non potuit, ut haec pro insiticiis habeam, quinque mihi suadent argumenta. 1. ordo singulis sententiis et nexus deest. 2. quae iam dicta sunt inepte repetuntur. 3. definitiones partim falsae partim inanes proponuntur. 4. nonnulla prioribus repugnant. 5. exposita fabulae prae ceteris partibus praestantia, post §. 14. apte pergere Aristoteles potest ut pergit capitis 7. initio. mores autem post fabulam gravissimam tragoediae partem esse, hoc sibi a legentibus concedi sperare ille poterat. singula ordine persequar. ·
παραπλήσιον - εἰκόνα: rerum complexionem primum tragoediae negotium esse, proximum autem descriptionem morum, id pessime hoc exemplo illustrari amantissimus quisque veritatis libenter mihi concesserit. scilicet
φάρμακα pulcherrima et fuse illita comparavit iste cum moribus, imaginem albam delineatam cum fabula. utrisque delectari homines statuit, sed coloribus istis fuse illitis non aeque (
οὐχ ὁμοίως) atque imagine alba delineata. itaque (sic ille ratiocinatus est) fabula magis delectat quam mores, ideoque mores post fabulam collocandi sunt. hem hominem acutum. praeterea
ἐναλείφειν τοῖς καλλίστοις φαρμάκοις est illinere pulcherrimis coloribus, ubi deest quid coloribus inducatur : quippe debuit
ἐναλείψειε τὰ κάλλιστα φάρμακα. sed quaeritur possitne vitari offensio, si hic locus in fine §. 12. post
ἔχουσα δὲ μῦθον καὶ σύστασιν πραγμάτων inseratur, id quod fecerunt et Buhlius et Hermannus. ego non sequar; primum quia transpositio ipsa violentum est remedium, tum quia non esse Aristotelis scio in re manifesta post minimum intervallum ex eadem arte exemplum petere, quod fit si haec post §. 12. inseruntur, deinde quod comparatio vel sic male instituta est: nam tum colores nullo ordine (
χύδην) illiti conferuntur moralibus sermonibus deinceps positis, cet. aliud indicium, quo transpositionem perperam fieri liquet, ex sequentibus (§. 15 extr.) se offert: nam transpositione facta, iam illa
ἔστι τε μίμησις πράξεως,
καὶ διὰ ταύτην μάλιστα τῶν
πραττόντων sic legi non possunt, sed pro
τε cum Hermanno
γὰρ substituendum est. sed quis tandem pro
γὰρ ponere
τε animum induxisset, si id ab initio fuisset? immo
τε non mutandum: interpolator enim iam alterum affert
σημεῖον, unde mores post fabulam proximum locum occupare iste prò- bare intendit, idque imperite adnectit
ἔστι τε μίμησις κτλ., imperite quidem sed tam bene quam ab isto exspectari potest. ipsam suam sapientiam hausit ex Aristoteliis illis (§. 10)
οὔκουν ὅπως τὰ ἤθη μιμήσωνται πράττουσιν,
ἀλλὰ τὰ ἤθη συμπεριλαμβάνουσι διὰ τὰς πράξεις. cum scribit
τῶν πραττόντων, cogitavit iste
τῆς ποιότητος (vel
ἤθων)
τῶν πραττόντων. fortasse respexit etiam illa (§. 9)
ἡ γὰρ τραγῳδία μίμησίς ἐστιν οὐκ ἀνθρώπων ἀλλὰ πράξεως.
16.
mvp-aristotle-comment-50
Ritter, cap. 6 § 16
τρίτον δὲ διάνοια.
τοῦτο κτλ.
διάνοιαν Aristoteles definivit §. 6., interpolator definitionem h. 1. promit ab Aristotelia multum diversam et paulo post (§. 17) aliam etiam cum Aristotelia convenientem. num haec Aristostoteli tribuemus ? num Aristolelem eodem capite ter ad idem revolvi putabimus? sed vide mihi priorem hanc interpolatoris definitionem
διανοίας: esse facultatem dicendi (
τὸ λέγειν δύνασθαι) quae in re sint quaeque apta sint. nimirum Aristoteles
διάνοιαν partem tragoediae intelligit (den Gedankengehalt), interpolator eandem pro facultate humana accipit (die Fähigkeit das Richtige und Passende zu sagen.) -
ὅπερ ἐπὶ τῶν λόγων κτλ. technicus noster digreditur ad orationes. conf. Commentar. ad c. 25,3. quod sequitur
οἱ μὲν γὰρ ἀρχαῖοι πολιτικῶς ἐποίουν λέγοντας,
οἱ δὲ νῦν ῥητορικῶς, perperam de poetis tragicis antiquis et novis dictum esse multi crediderunt: immo tota illa digressio
ὅπερ ἐπὶ τῶν λόγων - ῥητορικῶς aperte oratores spectat, non poetas. distinguit interpolator inter oratores politicos, h. e. qui de veris causis dicebant, et scholasticos qui fictas componebant.
17.
mvp-aristotle-comment-51
Ritter, cap. 6 § 17
ὃ δηλοῖ τὴν προαίρεσιν ὁποία τις: haec hausta sunt ex Rhetoricis III, 16. p. 1417 a 15. statim autem discurrit iterum ad orationes,
διόπερ οὐκ
ἔχουσιν ἦθος τῶν λόγων ἐν οἷς cet., et mire scribit
τῶν λόγων ἐν οἷς cet. pro
τῶν λόγων ὅσοις μηδ' ὅλως ἔνεστι, quam insolentiam in Latina interpretatione servavi. iam tertium revolvitur homo inconstantissimus ad
διάνοιαν, et nunc quidem eius definitionem promit Aristoteli consentientem, sed suae modo prolatae repugnantem.
18.
mvp-aristotle-comment-52
Ritter, cap. 6 § 18
τέταρτον - δύναμιν: haec omnia inania sunt et inepta et Aristoteliis male convenientia. Aristoteles enim
λέξιν partem tragoediae constituit, et quidem eam partem quae numeris inclusa est sed cantu et saltatione caret, senarios, etiam tetrametros et anapaestos plerosque, hic homo orationum elocutionem intelligit et paulo post non recte Aristotelis definitione percepta addit
λέξιν esse
τὴν διὰ τῆς ὀνομασίας ἑρμηνείαν. scilicet interpolator explicat quam
λέξιν vulgo intelligant homines, Aristoteles eodem nomine nove usus est ad designandam tragoediae partem.
ἐπὶ τῶν λόγων: in orationibus prosa sermone conscriptis.
19.
mvp-aristotle-comment-53
Ritter, cap. 6 § 19
quae a §. 15 usque ad hunc locum tractavi, ea non esse Aristotelis in posterum omnes credituros esse spero : sed quae iam sequuntur fortasse defendi possunt, si quis in fine §. 14. verba
δεύτερον δὲ τὰ ἤθη a me Aristoteli relicta etiam interpolatori tribuat, ut finis §. 14. et initium §. 19. in hunc modum connectantur
ἀρχὴ μὲν οὖν καὶ οἷον ψυχὴ ὁ μύθος τῆς τραγῳδίας·
τῶν δὲ λοιπῶν πέντε ἡ μελοποιία μέγιστον τῶν ἡδυσμάτων. sed haec quoque defensio consistere nequit. nam cum adhuc, ex medio sublatis illis §. 15-18., de duobus (de moribus et fabula) dictum esset, pergere debuit
τῶν δὲ λοιπῶν τεττάρων, non
πέντε. neque ratio est, cur
διάνοιαν et
λέξιν silentio transmitti,
ὄψιν autem et
μελοποιίαν rursus memorari vellet. accedunt alia quae statim afferentur.
τῶν δὲ λοιπῶν πέντε: quomodo quinque partes supersunt, cum post quattuor ante commemoratas duae restent,
μελοποιία et
ὄψις ? dixerit aliquis, postremo disputatum esse de dictione (
λέξει), quam respiciens Aristoteles scripserit
τῶν δὲ λοιπῶν πέντε. sed haec vana sunt. sic enim )haec prodit sententia,
μελοποιίαν excepta dictione (
λέξει) omnium partium summum esse condimentorum tragoediae, sed quis
λέξιν condimentum tragoediae appellaverit? immo tragoediae ne sunt quidem condimenta, sed sunt dictionis (
λέξεως), numeri videlicet et cantus. vid. c. 6, 3. hoc
πέντε igitur dormitanti homini tribuendum erit.
ἡ δὲ ὄψις-ποιητικῆς: haec per se non falsa videntur, sed vix conciliari poterunt cum illa Aristotelis sententia (§. 4) quae
ὄψιν necessariam tragoediae partem constituit. neque id verum omnino videtur,
ὄψιν esse
ἀτεχνότατον καὶ ἥκιστα οἰκεῖον τῆς ποιητικῆς: immo in excogitandis rerum et casuum formis in scena repraesentandis magna poе- tae solertia versari potest. interpolator de rebus quibusdam externis cogitasse videtur. id apparet ex additis
ἡ γὰρ τῆς τραγῳδίας δύναμις καὶ ἄνευ ἀγῶνος καὶ ὑποκριτῶν ἐστίν. est sane, sed tamen sine
ὄψει tragoedia consistere non potest: nam si legitur tantum,
ὄψις illa suppleri a legentibus vel audientibus debet, ut ne sic quidem deesse possit. -
ἔτι δὲ κυριωτέρα- τῶν ποιητῶν ἐστίν: etiam haec argumento sunt, interpolatorem quid
ὄψιν Aristoteles intellexerit non satis percepisse. numerum pluralem apud verum Aristotelem in hoc opere non invenio. vid. c. 6, 8., ubi
ὄψεις in loco ab aliena manuinserta. numeri insolentiam tenui in Latina interpretatione.
1.
mvp-aristotle-comment-54
Ritter, cap. 7 § 1
Actio tragoediae subiecta tota sit oportet. eius quod est totum definitio. iusta actionis tragicae mensura. Postquam tragoediae definitionem proposuit et partes enumeravit, fabulamque sive rerum complexionem esse sum- *mum et primum tragoediae negotium monstravit, iam ad hanc partem accuratius declarandam accedit, idque argumentumpertractavit. c. 7-11 et c. 13-14. quae inter utrumque locum interposita sunt (c. 12), ea pro falsis habenda esse ostendere suo loco conabor.
διωρισμένων- τῆς τραγῳδίας ἐστίν: haec perbene succedunt post illa c. 6, 14., quae insertis falsis ab hisce seiuncta et divulsa sunt. particula
ἐπειδὴ (quandoquidem) certis argumentis id niti significat quod h. 1. enuntiatur.
2.
mvp-aristotle-comment-55
Ritter, cap. 7 § 2
κεῖται δ᾽ ἡμῖν: quod certum est nullis moveri vel ferri dubitationis fluctibus cogitatur sed eodem loco permanere et iacere. contrarium, est
κινεῖσθαι et
ἀμφισβητεῖσθαι. de quibus inter omnes convenit, ea
τὰ κείμενα sunt in Metaphysicis O. 4. p. 1047 b 10.
ἔστι γὰρ ὅλον καὶ μηδὲν ἔχον μέγεθος: haec fortasse ex glossa nata sunt. admonitio enim supervacanea est et inutilis. incipit eodem fere modo atque subsequens
τοῦ ὅλου definitio:
ἔστι γὰρ ὅλον cet. et
ὅλον δ' ἐστὶ cet.; itemque structura
καὶ μηδὲν ἔχον μέγεθος statim redit
τὸ ἔχον ἀρχὴν cet.
3.
mvp-aristotle-comment-56
Ritter, cap. 7 § 3
ὅλον δ' ἐστὶ - τελευτήν: totum esse cuius sit principium et finis et medium cum definitur, haec definitio tum erit manifesta, si quid sit principium et finis et medium non ignoraveris. tres igitur definitionis notiones statim explanantur.
ἀρχὴ δ' ἐστὶν κτλ. quot modis
ἀρχὴ diceretur, in Metaphysicis 1. 1. explicatur, huc pertinet quarta illa ratio:
ἡ δὲ ὅθεν πρῶτον ἡ κίνησις πέφυκεν ἄρχεσθαι καὶ μεταβολή.
ἢ ἐξ ἀνάγκης ἢ ὡς ἐπὶ τὸ πολύ: aut necessario aut probabiliter.
ὡς ἐπὶ τὸ πολὺ idem est atque
κατὰ τὸ εἰκός. vid. infra §. 7.
κατὰ τὸ εἰκὸς ἢ τὸ ἀναγκαῖον. c. 10, 3.
ἢ ἐξ ἀνάγκης ἢ κατὰ τὸ εἰκός. nimirum quod plerumque fit, id probabiliter fieri dicimus, quod semper, necessario id fieri colligimus. finis ex principio et medio ita procedere potest, ut aut praeter hunc alius esse non possit, aut talis consequatur qualis plerumque ex illo principio et medio nascitur.
μήθ' ὁπόθεν ἔτυχεν ἄρχεσθαι μήθ' ὅπου ἔτυχε τελευτᾶν: tragoediae fabula ita constituenda est, ut actionis principium non desit, h. e. ut actio tragica ex aliaextra tragoediam sita non necessario consequatur. non negligendum est quod in definitione
τῆς ἀρχῆς additur
μετ' ἀνάγκης. nam quo minus quidquam praecesserit quo actio in tragoedia magnopere afficiatur, nihil est quod impediat, dummodo ne tale quid praegressum sit, unde nihil nisi actio illa tragica posset oriri: ita enim fabula principio suo orbata erit. idem dici de fine potest. ea enim fabula vere finita est, cuius actio ita exit, ut nova actio inde necessario consequi non videatur. mirum sane est, quod h. 1. nihil de trilogiis tragoediarum expositum invenimus. sane hic locus erat, si de illa compositione tragoediarum quidquam dicere voluisset.
4.
mvp-aristotle-comment-57
Ritter, cap. 7 § 4
τὸ γὰρ καλόν ἐν μεγέθει καὶ τάξει ἐστί: pulchrum (
τὸ καλόν) oritur, ubi varium quoddam forma vel idea comprehenditur et in unum collectum a nobis percipitur. conf. Polit. VII, 4. p. 1326 a 32.
θείας γὰρ δὴ τοῦτο δυνάμεως ἔργον,
ἥτις καὶ τόδε συνέχει τὸ πᾶν,
ἐπεὶ τό γε καλὸν ἐν πλήθει καὶ μεγέθει εἴωθε γίνεσθαι. de pulchri definitione ab Aristotele passim significata potius quam explicata disputavit Eduardus Müller in Historia doctrinae artis apud veteres vol. II. p. 95 sqq. ceterum structura verborum, coepta ab illis (§. 4 init.)
ἔτι δ᾽ ἐπεὶ τὸ καλὸν cet., interiecta hac sententia
τὸ γὰρ καλὸν ἐν μεγέθει cet. abrumpitur et demum §. 5. iterum inchoatur. quae secum comparantur haec sunt:
ἔτι δ' ἐπεὶ τὸ καλὸν καὶ ζῷον καὶ ἅπαν πρᾶγμα ὃ συνέστηκεν ἔκ τίνων,
οὐ μόνον ταῦτα τεταγμένα δεῖ ἔχειν,
ἀλλὰ καὶ μέγεθος ὑπάρχειν μὴ τὸ τυχόν ...,
οὕτω (§. 5)
καὶ ἐπὶ τῶν μύθων ἔχειν μὲν μῆκος,
τοῦτο δ᾽ εὐμνημόνευτον εἶναι. conf. Comment. ad c. 2, 1. ...
διὸ οὔτε πάμμικρον ἄν τι γένοιτο καλόκ ζῷον ..
οὔτε παμμέγεθες: hisce similia exposita legimus in Politicis VII, 4. –
συγχεῖται γὰρ ἡ θεωρία κτλ. ubi contemplatio confunditur, unum illud ac varium simul percipere ideoque ipsum pulchrum agnoscere non pot-
οἷον εἰ μυρίων σταδίων εἴη ζῷον: similiter sed minus
ὑπερβολικῶς loquitur in Politicis VII, 4. p. 1326 a est.40.
οἷον πλοῖον σπιθαμιαῖον μὲν οὐκ ἔσται πλοῖον ὅλως,
οὐδὲ δυοῖν σταδίοιν. ::
6.
mvp-aristotle-comment-58
Ritter, cap. 7 § 6
ὥσπερ ποτὲ καὶ ἄλλοτε φασίν: quid sibi velit hoc inane additamentum, nemo demonstrare potuit. si explicamus quomodo olim et alias factum esse dicunt, primum additur quod non inest in Graecis (factum esse), tum
ἄλλοτε inepte post
ποτέ et frigide adiungitur. nam si
ποτέ et
ἄλλοτε sibi respondent, varia tempora indicantur ¹). quapropter eae voces per xa
ὶ connecti non possunt, non magis quam Latinis modo et modo dicere licet pro modo - modo. :
1.
mvp-aristotle-comment-59
Ritter, cap. 8 § 1
Fabulam tragoediae unam esse oportet. unitas fabulae quomodo concilietur, una est, si unius actionis eiusque totius imitatio est. :
μύθος δ᾽ ἐστὶν εἷς,
οὐχ ὥσπερ τινὲς οἴ ονται,
ἐὰν περὶ ἕνα ᾖ : primum refellit falsam aliorum opinionem de fabulae unitate conceptam, sed respi. cere haec reprehensio videtur non tam eos qui ante se de arte poetica disputaverant, quam illos poetas qui editis carminibus prodiderant se de unitate fabulae falsam imbibisse sententiam. scribit enim
οὐχ ὥσπερ τινὲς οἴονται, non
οὐχ ὥσπερ τινὲς λέγουσιν, ac continuo addit
διὸ πάντες ἐοίκασιν ἁμαρτάνειν,
ὅσοι τῶν ποιητῶν Ἡρακληΐδα καὶ Θησηΐδα καὶ τὰ τοιαῦτα ποιήματα πεποιήκασιν·
οἴονται γὰρ ἕνα καὶ τὸν μῦθον εἶναι προσήκειν. ...
πολλὰ γὰρ καὶ ἄπειρα τῷ γένει συμβαίνει κτλ. multa et infinita genere contingunt, quorum nonnulla unitate carent.
ἄπειρα τῷ γένει dictum est ut
τῷ γένει ἕτερα 1) Conf. Sophoclis Antig. 367. sive editionis Herm. 364.
ποτὲ μὲν κακόν,
ἄλλοτ᾽ ἐπ᾿ ἐσθλὸν ἕρπει.c. 1, 3. genitivus
ἐνίων pendet a praepositione, sed pronominis relativi (
ὧν) casus ab
ἐνίων aptus est. multa et ges nere diversa inter homines contingunt, sive ab ipsis hominibus sive alia vi efficiuntur, quorum nonnulla ita comparata sunt ut unum in illis non reperiatur. Victorius
γ' ἑνὶ pro
γένει a se inventum commendavit et pluribus editoribus adprobavit. tum oritur inanis oppositio inter ea quae accidunt (
ἃ συμβαίνει) uni alicui et inter actiones (
τὰς πράξεις) unius, sed utrumque nomen non contraria significatione sed eadem h. 1. positum esse apparet ex §. 3., ubi simulata Ulixis insania in iis refertur,
ὅσα αὐτῷ συνέβη. itaque nonnisi variationis gratia statim scribit
οὕτω δὲ καὶ πράξεις ἑνὸς πολ λαί εἰσιν pro
οὕτω δὲ καὶ συμβαίνει ἑνὶ πολλά, ex una igitur parte quae contingunt vel fiunt generatim ponuntur, ex altera casus et facta (
αἱ πράξεις utraque denotant) unius memorantur. in lectione a Victorio excogitata particula illa
πανακής (
γ') tolerari nequit.
2.
mvp-aristotle-comment-60
Ritter, cap. 8 § 2
διὸ πάντες ἐοίκασιν ἁμαρτάνειν-τὴν Ἰλιάδα: mirari subeat cur Aristoteles tragicis poetis missis ad epicos evagetur, sed hoc ille rationis habuit: nimirum violatae unitatis insigne exemplum et ad hanc disputationem prae ceteris accommodatum illi poetae suggerebant qui unius viri facta carmine illustraverant. iam cum ex poetis epicis vitiosae compositionis exempla dedisset, ex eisdem bonum exemplum et imitandum proposuit Homerum.
ὅσοι τῶν ποιητῶν Ἡρακληΐδα καὶ Θησηΐδα κτλ. notat Pisandrum et Panyasin Herculeidum auctores satis notos incertumque Theseidos scriptorem a Plutarcho Thes. c. 28. memoratum. conf. de hoc postremo Welckeri Cyclus epicus p. 321. praeterea Diogenes Laertius Pythostratum Theseidos auctorem satis recentem et ipso Aristotele fortasse aetate minorem nominat II, 59.
γεγόνασι δὲ Ξενοφῶντες ἑπτά·
πρῶτος αὐτὸς οὗτος·
δεύτερος ᾿Αθηναῖος,
ἀδελφὸς Πυθοστράτου 1)
τοῦ τὴν Θη- 1) Scriptura
Νικοστράτου minus a codicibus commendatur.
σηΐδα πεποιηκότος,
γεγραφὼς ἄλλα τε καὶ βίον Ἐπαμινώνδου καὶ Πελοπίδου. Diphili Theseis commemorata a scholiasta Pindari ad Olymp. X (XI), 83. an fuerit unquam et an epо- poeia fuerit ego vehementer dubito. hanc certe Aristoteles respicere non potuit 2). -
καὶ τὰ τοιαῦτα ποιήματα: poetarum cyclicorum poemata praecipue designat. conf. c. 23, 3.
3.
mvp-aristotle-comment-61
Ritter, cap. 8 § 3
Ὀδύσσειαν γὰρ ποιῶν: nomen
Ὀδύσσειαν h. 1. posuit pro
Ὀδυσσέως ποίημα, ein Odysseus-Gedicht. hoc tenendum est, primum ut cur articulus absit intelligamus, qui paulo post non deest ante
Ὀδύσσειαν et
Ἰλιάδα, tum ut mirum ne videatur post
Ὀδύσσειαν ποιῶν sequi
αὐτῷ, ad quod Ulixis nomen subintelligendum est. conf. Comment. ad c. 4,10. -
οἷον πληγῆναι μὲν ἐν τῷ Παρνάσσῳ,
μανῆναι δὲ προσποιήσασθαι ἐν τῷ ἀγερμῷ: quemadmodum Homerus a violanda unitatis lege sibi caverit ut exemplo monstraretur, duo quae ex Ulixis vita memorari poterant selecta, sed ea et tempore discreta et nullo causae effectusque vinculo connexa, Aristoteles composuit, quorum prius ab Homero episodii loco narratur (Od. T. 430 sqq.), alterum silentio ab eodem transmittitur. nimirum talia qui coniuncta refert, is in rebus succedentibus neque probabilitatem neque necessitatem consectatur. nam post vulnus in Parnasso acceptum consequi fictam Ulixis insaniam, dum Graecorum exercitus repetendae a Troianis Helenae causa colligitur (
ἐν τῷ ἀγερμῷ), id neque probabile videtur neque necessario postulatur. qui haec iungit,
τὰ γενόμενα narrat, non
οἷα ἂν γένοιτο. nihil quidem refert, quod earum rerum 2) Theseis Diphili, unde duos versiculos metro Hipponacteo scriptos servavit Pindari scholiasta, huius hominis errori deberi videtur. nimirum Diphilus novae comoediae scriptor comoediam
Θησέα, non epopoeiam
Θησηΐδα, fecit. vid. Athen. VI. p. 262 A. X. p. 451 B et C. antiquam
Θησηΐδα Pindari scholiasta sine nomine auctoris designavit ad Ol.
ΙΙΙ, 52.
ὁ γὰρ Θησηΐδα γράψας τοιαύτην (
χρυσόκερων)
αὐτὴν (h. e.
τὴν θήλειαν ἔλαφον)
λέγει καὶ Πείσανδρος ὁ Καμειρεὺς καὶ Φερεκύδης.quae h. 1. commemorantur, una ab Homero proposita altera praetermissa est, sed tamen prudenter hoc fecisse Aristoteles videtur, ut magis illarum rerum discrepantia intelligeretur, cum idem poeta qui unam occasione data exposuit, alteram ne in episodio quidem admittendam putaret. copiose acuteque de hoc loco disputavit Gr. Guil. Nitzsch de Historia Homeri Meletem. fasc. II. pag. 4-6.
περὶ μίαν πρᾶξιν,
οἵαν λέγομεν: ne perperam acciperentur quae de una actione dicuntur, additum est
οἷαν λέγομεν, qualem dicimus (was wir darunter verstehen). quippe intelligit
πρᾶξιν ex pluribus quidem
πράγμασιν constantem sed in unum collectam, eo quod singulae actionis partes secundum legem necessitatis vel probabilitatis sese excipientes totum quoddam conficiunt. hoc unum in Odyssea est reditus Ulixis, in Iliade ira Achillis.
4.
mvp-aristotle-comment-62
Ritter, cap. 8 § 4
χρὴ οὖν - ταύτης ὅλης: exemplis rectae factorum compositionis ac vitiosae propositis, norma iam et lex unitatis constituitur. quemadmodum in aliis imitandi generibus una imitatio unum quoddam exprimit imitando, sic fabula, cui actio ad imitandum destinata est, hoc suum obiectum unum totumque exprimere debet. –
διαφέρεσθαι καὶ κινεῖσθαι τὸ ὅλον: si singulae actionis partes per sese constant, una vel altera moveri potest ex toto, et hoc nihilo minus remanet: sin omnes artissimo vinculo cohaerent, sublata una totum dissipatur (
διαφέρεται), ceteraeque loco suo moventur (
κινοῦνται).
1.
mvp-aristotle-comment-63
Ritter, cap. 9 § 1
Quid sit discriminis inter poetam et historiae scriptorem. quomodo materia ex historia petita uti poetam deceat, quid in argumentis mere fabulosis cavendum sit. tragoedia imitari timenda et miseranda ita debet, ut in his causae effectusque successio agnoscatur. Quae de fabula sive argumento tragoediae adhuc exposita sunt (c. 7 et 8), inde nonnulla colliguntur, quibus non solum tragicae poesis indoles sed simul totius poeticae artis ratio et natura illustratur ac definitur. nam ut poetae opus pulchritudine splendeat, unitatem ille consectari debet (c.7). unitas autem turbatur ac tollitur multitudine partium iusto vinculo carentium. sed illud vinculum subest actionis cuiusdam partibus, si unum eius actionis momentum ex altero consequitur. itaque non quae facta sunt poeta imitari debet, sed quae fieri possunt, quamquam nihil obstat quo minus materia ab historia oblata utatur, dummodo hanc apte eligere ac probe disponere et pertractare sciat. rursus non est satis, si tragoediae argumentum ex fabularum cyclo sumptum tractatur: immo eiusmodi argumenta pessima sunt, si ex partibus non cohaerentibus conserta proponuntur. Lessingius partem huius disputationis in patriam linguam convertit et Aristotelis sententiam tum vere tum falso explicuit in Dramaturgia Hamburgensi tom. II. c. 89-91. او : · §. 1.
φανερὸν δὲ ἐκ τῶν εἰρημένων - ἀλλ' οἷα ἂν γένοιτο : quae dicta sunt de unitate partiumque actionis nexu, inde consequitur a poeta non quae facta sunt, sed quae fieri possunt, imitando exprimi: nam quae in hominum vita accidunt, ea plerumque varia sunt ac nullo vinculo continentur.
οἷα ἂν γένοιτο sive
τὰ δυνατὰ dum scribit, unum respexit contrarium id quod re vera contigit (
τὰ γενόμενα), ut ex una parte
τὰ γενόμενα, ex altera
οἷα ἂν γένοιτο sive
τὰ δυνατά ponantur. haec
δυνατά sive
οἷα ἂν γένοιτο in duas species dividuntur, in
δυνατὰ κατὰ τὸ εἰκὸς et
δυνατὰ κατὰ τὸ ἀναγκαῖον. itaque quod fieri potest, id aut ita comparatum est ut nihil nisi hoc ipsum fieri possit (
τὰ δυνατὰ κατὰ τὸ ἀναγκαῖον), aut ita ut hoc fieri nemo miretur (
τὰ δυνατὰ κατὰ τὸ εἰκός). exemplo rem planam faciam. cum Agamemno Achillem offendit, hunc pro moribus vehementer irasci iramque ostendere facto quodam necesse est, idque est
δυνατὸν κατὰ τὸ ἀναγκαῖον. sed quod ille ab Achivis plane discedit oculosque clade eorum pavet eoque irae suae gratificatur, id est
δυνα-
τὸν κατὰ τὸ εἰκὸς. conf. c. 15, 6. Madii et Buhlii de hoc loco dubitationes dextre discussit Hermannus.
2.
mvp-aristotle-comment-64
Ritter, cap. 9 § 2
μετά μέτρου ἢ ἄνευ μέτρων: cum scribit
μετὰ μέτρου, cogitat de uno aliquo metri genere, cui Herodoti historias includere quis posset, cum
ἄνευ μέτρων, quodcumque genus metrorum ab illis abesse significat.
3.
mvp-aristotle-comment-65
Ritter, cap. 9 § 3
διὸ καὶ φιλοσοφώτερον - ἐστίν: poesis cogitandi facultatem et rationem hominis exercet, eo quod a singulis abstinens universa (
τὰ καθόλου) consectatur. qui circa singula versatur, eius adspiciendi et singulas imagines rerum considerandi facultas praecipue occupatur, id quod omnibus hominibus et quovis tempore facile potest contingere. sed singula mittere et sequi universa philosophi est. praeterea quae fieri verisimile est aut necesse, causas eorum anquirere mens humana compellitur. sed causas rerum invenire et cognoscere, id rursus praecipuum philosophiae negotium est.
σπουδαιότερον est
σπουδῆς ἀξιώτερον, h. e. dignius sive gravius.
4.
mvp-aristotle-comment-66
Ritter, cap. 9 § 4
ἔστι δὲ καθόλου μὲν: subintellige
λέγειν, universe dicere est proferre quae genus quoddam hominum dicere aut facere consentaneum est. quae generi contingunt, non singulis generis hominibus, ea sibi constant et aeterna durant, non subiecta mutationis vicibus. vid. Metaph. 4. 9. p. 1017 b 35.
τὰ γὰρ καθόλου καθ᾽ αὑτὰ ὑπάρχει,
τὰ δὲ συμβε βηκότα οὐ καθ' αὑτὰ ἀλλ᾽ ἐπὶ τῶν καθ᾽ ἕκαστα ἁπλῶς λέγεται. conf.
Ζ. 13. p. 1039 a 1. (
τὸ καθόλου οὐ σημαίνει)
τόδε τι ἀλλὰ τοιόνδε.
τὰ δὲ καθ᾽ ἕκαστον κτλ. singularia sunt quae huic illive acciderunt, v. c. quae Alcibiades egit aut passus est.
οὗ στοχάζεται ἡ ποίησις ὀνόματα ἐπιτιθεμένη: excellit totius capitis huiusce explicatio praeclara perspicuitate et luculenta rerum expositarum veritate, neque alia huius libri pars tantis et tam iustis laudibus excepta est. sed quid dicemus de his verbis, quae non solum explanationis iustum ordinem subito impediunt, sed etiam obscuram quandam et falsam sententiam pronuntiant? impediri ordinem disputationis unusquisque et viderit et concesserit: definitur enim quid sit dicere
τὰ καθόλου et
τὰ καθ'᾿ ἕκαστον, quorum prius illud ab altero istis illatis male disiungitur. sed id fortasse quocumque tandem modo excusaveris; id gravius est, falsa esse quae inserta legimus: falso enim affirmatur nominibus imponendis
τὰ καθόλου sectari poesin, h. e. omnia poesis genera. sed continuo Aristoteles vere hoc dicit, comoediam qualis iam sit adhibere nomina communia, tragoediam fere singulorum hominum nomina a maioribus tradita tenere. itaque interpolator illud, quod de sui temporis comoedia apte recteque observavit sapientissimus auctorum, sinistre falsoque ad totam poesin putavit pertinere. Lessingius in libro laudato c. 89. multa molitus est ut sanam sententiam his verbis subesse monstraret, sed facile agnoscas ab homine acutissimo desperatam causam defendi.
5.
mvp-aristotle-comment-67
Ritter, cap. 9 § 5
ἐπὶ μὲν οὖν τῆς κωμῳδίας ἤδη τοῦτο δῆλον γέγονεν: comoedia usque ad aetatem Aristotelis duas praecipue formas assumpserat, quarum priorem antiquam (
τὴν παλαιάν), alteram mediam (
τὴν μέσην) grammaticorum veterum exemplo appellamus. tertia, quam novam (
τὴν νέαν) Graeci grammatici vocant, nondum orta erat, cum Aristoteles haec scriberet, sed sub mortem eius in eo erat ut Philemonis et Menandri opera oreretur. nova comoedia tam nominibus quam argumentis
τὰ καθόλου semper secuta est, media plerumque idem fecit. antiqua quae fere singulos homines notavit, eatenus
τὰ καθ' ἕκαστον probasse dici potest, quamquam argumenta eius et ipsa
τὰ καθόλου sectata sunt. ex antiquis comoediae scriptoribus Crates primus
ἰαμβικὴν ἰδέαν omisit et fabulas
δι' εἰκότων composuit. vid. c. 5, 3. eandem viam ingressus est Pherecrates Aristophanis aequalis et sub finem vitae (01. 97, 4) ipse Aristophanes editis Pluto altero et Aeolosicone et Cocalo. Aristoteles igitur eam comoediam h. 1. intelligere videtur quae inde ab Olympiade 97 usque ad suam aetatem obtinuit. conf. Ethic. Nicom. IV, 14 med.
ἴδοι δ᾽ ἄν τις καὶ ἐκ τῶν κωμῳδιῶν τῶν παλαιῶν καὶ τῶν καινῶν (per
καινὰς h. 1. mediae comoediae quam grammatici statuunt fabulae significantur)·
τοῖς μὲν γὰρ ἦν γελοῖον ἡ αἰσχρολογία,
τοῖς δὲ μᾶλλον ἡ ὑπόνοια.
τὰ τυχόντα ὀνόματα ὑποτιθέασι:
τὰ τυχόντα ὀνόματα ea sunt nomina quae pro arbitrio personis suis poeta subiicit: opponuntur enim nominibus ab historia sive vera sive fabulosa traditis, quae non sunt
τυχόντα sed traditione definita ¹). sunt eiusmodi nomina Pamphilus, Charinus, Chremes, Chaerea, Phaedria, - Traso, Artotrogus, Gnatho, - Parmeno, Dromo, - Philumena, Glycerium cet. haec nomina comoediarum scriptores personis suis ita adplicant sive subiciunt, ut nomina moribus respondeant. nomen morale simul est generale: denotat enim non
τόδε ἀλλὰ τοιόνδε, eiusmodi nomina in nova comoedia (h. e. in ea quam Aristoteles respicere nondum potuit) erant omnia, in media pleraque, in antiqua non pauca.
6.
mvp-aristotle-comment-68
Ritter, cap. 9 § 6
τῶν γενομένων ὀνομάτων ἀντέχονται:
ὀνόματα γενόμενα sunt singulorum hominum nomina a maioribus tradita, nomina
τῶν γενομένων ἀνθρώπων.
7.
mvp-aristotle-comment-69
Ritter, cap. 9 § 7
οἷον ἐν τῷ ᾿Αγάθωνος ῎Ανθει: Agathonis aetatem definivit Ritschelius in Commentationis de Agathonis vita, arte et tragoediarum reliquiis particula, edita Halis anno 1829. Aristoteles saepius eius meminit. vid. c. 15, 8. 18, 6-7. Rhetor. II, 19. p. 1392b 7. II, 24. p. 1402 a 9.
8.
mvp-aristotle-comment-70
Ritter, cap. 9 § 8
ὥστ᾽ οὐ πάντως –
ἀντέχεσθαι: dicta haec videntur contra eos qui ante Aristotelem editis libris contrariam sententiam pronuntiaverant: hanc enim opinionem diligenter et copiose et paene dixerim acerbe refutavit. conf. Comment. ad c. 13, 4.
ἐπεὶ καὶ τὰ γνώριμα ὀλίγοις κτλ. quamquam notae illae fabulae et a maioribus traditae paucis spectantium vel legentium notae sunt, tamen omnes pariter iis delectantur. inde patet, illas non eo quod 1) Lessingius 1. c.
τὰ τυχόντα ὀνόματα interpretatur die etwaigen Namen, h. e. quibus poeta in hac vel illa comoedia utatur. sed id Graece dicendum erat
τὰ ἀεὶ ὀνόματα.notae sunt delectationem afferre, sed eo quod probabilia aut necessaria sectantur. :
9.
mvp-aristotle-comment-71
Ritter, cap. 9 § 9
κἂν ἄρα συμβῇ γενόμενα ποιεῖν,
οὐθὲν ἧττον ποιητής ἐστιν: quae ab historia praebentur argumenta, haec poeta ita tractare debet et conformare, ut ab co quasi procreata videantur. nomen
ποιητής et hoc loco et paulo post premitur et nativa sua significatione (Schöpfer, Hervorbringer) positum est. argumentum historicum Aeschylus pertractavit in Persis etiamnum superstitibus, et ante Aeschylum Phrynichus in Mileti expugnatione, de qua conferenda sunt quae Herodotus narrat VI, 21. Choerilus Samius bellum Persicum Xerxe auctore Graeciae illatum carmine epico felice cum successu canendum suscepit. vid. Choerili Samii quae supersunt. collegit et illustravit A. F. Naekius. Lipsiae 1817. - quae sequuntur
τῶν γὰρ γενο μένων ἔνια - ποιητής ἐστιν, definiunt quae argumenta historica
ποιητικῶς pertractari possint. nimirum ubi illa ita comparata sunt, ut unum factorum momentum ex altero consequi videatur, ubi hoc per poeticam conformationem veris rebus conciliari potest, ibi nihil obstat quo minus materia ex historia petatur.
10.
mvp-aristotle-comment-72
Ritter, cap. 9 § 10
τῶν δὲ ἁπλῶν μυθων καὶ πράξεων αἱ ἐπεισοδιώδεις εἰσὶ χείρισται: si merae fabulae actionesque fabulosae pluribus episodiis non apte connexis constant, causae effectusque successio tollitur et praecipuum poetae officium violatur, quod in fabulis magis etiam reprehensione dignum est quam in argumentis historicis, propterea quod fabulae et sua sponte magis
τὰ καθόλου sequuntur et facilius inflecti possunt.
οἱ ἁπλοῖ μύθοι h. 1. sunt merae fabulae et opponuntur argumentis ex historia petitis et a poeta recte conformatis. haec enim duobus quasi elementis constant, historico uno, altero poetico. iis igitur ubi opponuntur argumenta ex fabularum cyclo sumpta, ea ipsa appellari possunt simplices fabulae. cf. Comment. ad. c. 6, 6.
ἁπλοῖ μῦθοι καὶ πράξεις dictum est pro
πράξεις ἁπλῶς μυθικαί. sed haec quomodo cum antecedentibus cohaerent?sic: quemadmodum in argumentis historicis cum laude versari poeta possit modo expositum est: iam igitur explicari quid potissimum cavendum sit in argumentis mere fabulosis, id vel maxime consentaneum videri debet, itaque si illud probe tenuerimus,
ἁπλοῦς μύθους non eo dici significatu, quo c. 10.
μῦθος ἁπλοῦς τῷ πεπλεγμένῳ opponitur, evanescent dubitationes criticorum ad hunc locum expromptae, quas ex Buhlii 2) verbis in nota inferiore relatis lectoribus recognoscendas relinquo. Hermannus hunc locum sequenti capiti attexuit.
λέγω δ᾽ ἐπεισοδιώδη - ἀνάγκη εἶναι: ubi singulae actionis partes nullo causae effectusque nexu continentur, ibi actionis momenta non ex sese prodire sed iuxta se posita videntur. deest
τὸ ἓν et
τὸ καλόν. unumquodque
ἐπεισόδιον per se constat, et inde totus
μῦθος est
ἐπεισοδιώδης.
ὑπὸ μὲν τῶν φαύλων ποιητῶν δι' αὐτούς:
δι' αὐτοὺς est sua ipsorum culpa: mali enim poetae propter .... 2) "Valde exercuit etiam hic locus interpretum ingenia. arbitrati sunt omnes, Aristotelem locutum esse de fabulis simplicibus, quatenus implexis opponuntur, et fabularum simplicium
ἐπει σοδιώδεις pessimas pronuntiasse. iam exoriebatur difficultas, quomodo 1) fabula simplex esse possit
ἐπεισοδιώδης; 2) cur non nisi fabularum simplicium
ἐπεισοδιώδεις pessimae sint, cum nihil impediat, quo minus fabulae etiam implexae episodia habeant, immo his episodia cum sint maxime peculiaria? Castelvetro (p. 218) coniicit, verba textus aut suo loco mota esse ., aut legendum
ἁπλῶς δὲ τῶν μύθων. temere sic emendari ait Winstanleius (not. p. 287). nihil autem affert ipse quo sensui medeatur. Tyrwhitti coniectura,
τῶν δὲ ἄλλων μύθων, nihil efficitur. quinam sunt enim hi alii
μῦθοι; omnino non ante fuerat Aristoteli de mythis sermo. magis ad rem emendavit Twiningius (Notes p. 278)
τῶν δὲ ἁπάντων μύθων. sed vix Aristoteles scripserit
τῶν δὲ ἁπάντων· potius
ἁπάντων δὲ τῶν μύθων. quod si ita legeris, recedit coniectura nimis a codd. scriptura, quam ut ei fidem habeas. idem in Castelvetri coniectura reprehendere licet. equidem vocem
ἁπλῶν omnino delendam puto."ingenli tarditatem causae effectusque cohaerentiam in actione neque ipsi perspiciunt neque spectatoribus vel lectoribus exhibere recte possunt.
ὑπὸ δὲ τῶν ἀγαθῶν διὰ τοὺς ᾿ ὑποκριτάς: in tragoedia secundum artis legem facta fere nonnisi unus actor admodum potest excellere. si igitur tragoediae scriptor pluribus actoribus ostentandae artis occasionem offerre intendit, tum saepe admittit episodia cum fabulae summa male cohaerentia.
παρὰ τὴν δύναμιν παρατείναντες μῦθον: verba
παρὰ τὴν δύναμιν non ad poetas bonos sed ad subsequentem
μύθον referenda sunt, contra quam patitur natura fabulae. -
διαστρέφειν ἀναγκάζονται τὸ ἐφεξῆς:
τὸ ἐφεξῆς est iusta causae effectusque successio, quae si tollitur, unitas et pulchritudo tragoediae sublata est.
11.
mvp-aristotle-comment-73
Ritter, cap. 9 § 11
ἐπεὶ δὲ οὐ μόνον-γίνεται δι' ἄλληλα: sed quoniam non solum perfectae actionis est imitatio sed etiam metuendorum et miserandorum, haec autem propter se in vicem accidunt, ***. deest tota apodosis. sed cum rursus assint, quae abesse sane velis, fortasse nunquam inveniri poterit, quod omnibus lectoribus probabile videatur. nihilo minus meam qualemcumque sententiam de hoc loco conceptam non celabo. quae philosophus adhuc docuisse se existimat (c. 6. 7. 9), imitari tragicum poetam perfectam (
τελείαν) actionem, imitari miseranda et timenda, imitationemque ita instituere ut causarum effectorumque nexus agnoscatur, ea omnia hic loci sub unum conspectum collecta ponit, ut novum quoddam de admirabili (
τῷ θαυμαστῷ) in tragoedia repraesentando inde colligere possit. illud fortasse hoc fuit, admirabile quoque non temere oportet evenire,
καὶ τὸ θαυμαστὸν οὐκ εἰκῇ δεῖ γίνεσθαι, vel sic,
καὶ τὸ θανμαστὸν δεῖ γίνεσθαι ἐξ αὐτῆς τῆς συστάσεως τοῦ μύθου 3). de admirabili in apodosi aliquid collegisse Aristotelem subsequens ostendit disputatio, quae neque cohaeret neque con- 3) Ipsis verbis non multum tribuo, sed elapsam sententiam unice respicio.stat nisi hoc statuerimus. sed restant ista omnium pessima,
καὶ μάλιστα καὶ μᾶλλον,
ὅταν γένηται παρὰ τὴν δόξαν, quae sic ab omnibus codicibus exhibentur, ab editoribus varie mutata praebentur. scilicet timenda et miseranda et maxime et magis fieri propter semet ipsa, si contra exspectationem fiant, id pronuntiatum est et falso et inepte. falso, quia ad successionem causarum effectorumque nihil valet, utrum secundum an contra exspectationem fiant quae fiunt, inepte, quia
καὶ μάλιστα καὶ μᾶλλον pleonasmus est plane intolerabilis. iam quaeritur qua ratione hoc additamentum natum sit. statim scribit Aristoteles
τὸ γὰρ θαυμαστὸν οὕτως ἕξει μάλλον. adversus haec nugator aliquis in margine scripsit
καὶ μάλιστα καὶ μᾶλλον,
ὅταν γένηται παρὰ τὴν δύξαν, ipsum Aristotelem et correcturus et irrisionis causa eius voce (
μᾶλλον) abusurus. hinc ea admonitio in operis contextum invasit eademque, credo, meliorem sententiam, quam elapsam esse vidimus, de sua sede deiecit.
12.
mvp-aristotle-comment-74
Ritter, cap. 9 § 12
τὸ γὰρ θαυμαστόν οὕτως ἕξει μᾶλλον:
οὕτως respicit apodosin deperditam. subiectum quo verbum
ἕξει refertur aut
ἡ μίμησις est aut idem in apodosi delituit.
ἐπεὶ καὶ τῶν κτλ. per hoc
σημεῖον probare voluit philosophus, admirabiliora esse ea quorum causa non obscura, quam quae sponte et casu fiant. nimirum quae re vera fortuita sunt, ea tum maxime admirabilia videntur, cum causa quadam intercedente videntur accidisse.
οἷον ὡς ὁ ἀνδριὰς ὁ τοῦ Μίτυος κτλ. hinc sumpta sunt quae in Mirabilium auscultationum farragine, quam alius ex Aristotelis operibus confecit, numero 156. afferuntur. sed operae pretium est videre illius hominis stultitiam. scribit enim q
ασὶν ὡς ἀνδριὰς ὁ τοῦ Βίτυος . . .
ἐν ῎Αργει ἀπεκτεῖνε τὸν.
αἴτιον τοῦ θανάτου τῷ Βίτυϊ,
θεωροῦντι ἐμπεσών,
ἔοικε οὖν οὐκ εἰκῇ τὰ τοιαῦτα γίγνεσθαι. haec postrema illo loco plane inepta sunt, sed qui excerpsit, omittere religioni sibi duxit. homo ille qui Argis a sicario interfectus erat, utrum Mitys an Bitys appellaretur incertum est. Mityn nomen scribunt codices et Poeticae et orationiscontra Neaeram pag. 1356 ed Reisk.,
Βίτων Mirabil. auscult.,
Μίτιον Plutarchi exemplaria de sera numinis vindicta c. 8. p. 553 D (vol. III. p. 1. pag. 233 apud Wyttenb.):
Μιτίου τοῦ ᾿Αργείου κατὰ στάσιν ἀναιρεθέντος ἀνδριάντα χαλκοῦν ἐν ἀγορᾷ,
θεᾶς οὔσης,
ἐμπεσεῖν τῷ κτεί ναντι τὸν Μίτιον καὶ ἀνελεῖν. conf. Callimachi epigr. VII.
ὥστε ἀνάγκη τοὺς τοιούτους εἶναι καλλίους μύθους: si ex rebus fortuitis eae, quae non sine causa (
οὐκ εἰκῇ) videntur evenisse, magis homines alliciunt quam quae causa destitutae videntur, inde patet gratum esse hominibus causas rerum cognoscere. quae igitur fabulae hoc iuvant, eas pulchriores esse oportet.
1.
mvp-aristotle-comment-75
Ritter, cap. 10 § 1
Fabulae aut simplices sunt aut implexae. implexarum propria est aut agnitio aut rerum in contrarium conversio aut utrumque. ante quam pergit declarare fabulae sive argumenti naturam, interim quot et quales species eius reperiantur definit.
2.
mvp-aristotle-comment-76
Ritter, cap. 10 § 2
ἧς γινομένης,
ὥσπερ ὥρισται,
συνεχοῦς καὶ μιᾶς: verba
ὥσπερ ὥρισται referenda sunt ad ea quae capite 7 et 8 et 9. de fabulae natura explicata sunt. quae adduntur
συνεχοῦς καὶ μιᾶς, haec lectorem breviter admonent eorum quae illis locis uberius disputata sunt, actio fit
συνεχής, si eius partes ex causa quadam ac principio deinceps prodeunt; eadem
μία fit, si ex partibus ipsius arte coniunctis totum (
ὅλον) quoddam efficitur.
πεπλεγμένην δέ,
ἐξ ἧς μετ': quamquam de scripturae vulgatae integritate dubitatio vix admitti potest, tamen operae pretium videtur insignem codicum discrepantiam recognoscere et intelligere, quemadmodum ea ex uno fonte nata sit.nimirum
ἐξ ἧς cum litteris coniunctis
εξης scriberetur et pro mediae aetatis consuetudine
εξις pronuntiaretur, ex eo nomen
λέξις fecerunt. iam consequens erat ut
πεπλεγμένην in nominativum mutarent, cum vulgares isti correctores magis studeant structurae sustentandae quam sententiae rite conservandae. itaque AcBcNa offerunt
πεπλεγμένη δὲ λέξις μετὰ, idemque in M 14 16 21 haud dubie inest, quamquam Winstanleius nonnisi
λέξις pro
ἐξ ἧς attulit. M XIV exhibet
πε πλεγμένη δὲ πρᾶξις eique consentiunt GP. Aldus prope ad verum accedens dedit
πεπλεγμένη δὲ ἐξ ἧς cet.
ἄνευ περιπετείας ἢ ἀναγνωρισμοῦ: quid sit
περιπέτεια et
ἀναγνωρισμός sequente capite illustratur. forma
ἀναγνωρισμὸς ab altera
ἀναγνώρισις quae paulo post adhibetur ita differt, ut
ἀναγνώρισις actum agnoscendi,
ἀναγνωρισμὸς potius agnitionem a poeta propositam designet.
3.
mvp-aristotle-comment-77
Ritter, cap. 10 § 3
ταῦτα δὲ δεῖ γίνεσθαι ἐξ αὐτῆς τῆς συστάσεως τοῦ μύθου: ut fabulae implicatae unitas et forma poetica conservetur, peripetia vel agnitio aut ambo ex fabulae compositione sponte prodire debent, et ita quidem prodire, ut tamquam effectus causae appareant. vides idem h. 1. postulari, quod paulo ante (c. 9, 10), si fabulis deesset, pro summo vitio poetae notabatur.
1.
mvp-aristotle-comment-78
Ritter, cap. 11 § 1
Quid sit
περιπέτεια et quid
ἀναγνώρισις definitur, ac simul quaedam agnitionis species enumerantur.
καθάπερ εἴρηται: haec verba non ita intelligenda sunt, quasi haec peripetiae definitio iam ante prolata sit, sed pertinent ad sola
ἡ εἰς τὸ ἐναντίον τῶν πραττομένων μεταβολή. nam rerum in tragoedia agendarum duplicem esse posse conversionem significatum erat capite 7 extr. -
καὶ τοῦτο δέ,
ὥσπερ λέγομεν,
κατὰ τὸ εἰκὸς ἢ
ἀναγκαῖον: repetit quae (c. 10, 3) et de peripetia et de agnitione monuerat. itaque verba
καθάπερ εἴρηται ad remotiorem locum,
ὥσπερ λέγομεν ad proximum provocant.
ὥσπερ ἐν τῷ Οἰδίποδι - τουναντίον ἐποίησεν: respicit Sophoclis Oedipum regem v. 924-1185. quod omisit poetae nomen et hic et §. 2., sane mirum videatur, cum et Aeschylus et Euripides et alii eo nomine tragoedias conscripserint. ponit Sophoclis nomen c. 15, 7., ubi eandem fabulam commemorat. mira dominatur per totum hoc caput consuetudo, ut cum quater tragoedia quaedam memoretur, ne semel quidem eius auctor nominetur. pugnat hoc utique contra rationem quam Aristoteles in commemorandis poetarum operibus cum in ceteris suis disputationibus tum in Rhetoricis secutus est. itaque haec explicatio aut ab epitomatore quodam insigniter contracta est et decurtata aut exempla ab aliena manu h. 1. adscripta sunt. certe exemplis istis lectores Graeci Aristotelis aetate haud aegre caruerint. equidem de operis particula huic capiti (§.1-5) assignata sic statuo: is qui toti libro miram illam formam partim resecando partim interpolando concinnavit, pleniorem Aristotelis de
περιπετείᾳ et
ἀναγνωρίσει disputationem ita in compendium redegit, ut ex generali explicatione nonnisi summa eius fastigia retineret et pro ceteris exempla quaedam reponeret.
καὶ ἐν τῷ Λυγκεῖ ὁ μὲν ἀγόμενος ὡς ἀποθανούμενος,
ὁ δὲ Δαναὸς ἀκολουθῶν ὡς ἀποκτενῶν: Lynceus infra c. 18, 1. Theodectis fabula appellatur a personato Aristotele. quae de tragoediae huius argumento utroque loco afferuntur, inde nihil certi elici potest, quo ipso auctor horum exemplorum suspectus fit. id quidem dubitationi haud obnoxium videtur, verba
ὁ μὲν ἀγόμενος ὡς ἀποθανούμενος de ipso Lynceo accipienda esse, non de Aegypto eius patre vel alio quo. nam hoc si ita se haberet, statim nomen
Δαναὺς omittendum et post
ὁ μὲν nihil nisi
ὁ δὲ ponendum erat. quis sit puer, cuius captio c. 18, 1. commemoratur, non constat. quae Tyrwhittus de fabulae argumento coniecit, ea admodum incerta sunt ¹).
ἐκ τῶν πεπραγμένων est ex iis quae in iudicio acta sunt.
2.
mvp-aristotle-comment-79
Ritter, cap. 11 § 2
εἰς φιλίαν ἢ ἔχθραν: in amicitiam aut odium, h. e. ut aut amicitia aut odium inter personas agentes oriatur.
τῶν πρὸς εὐτυχίαν ἢ δυστυχίαν ώρισμένων: agnitio tragica talis est, ut inde aut amicitia aut odium personarum agentium fiat.
ὡρισμένων h. e. eorum qui a poeta ad felicitatem aut infelicitatem destinati sunt. quippe poeta tragoediam scribens pro arbitrio quodammodo decernit, qui felices et qui infelices fiant.
3.
mvp-aristotle-comment-80
Ritter, cap. 11 § 3
ἔστιν ὅτε,
ὥσπερ εἴρηται,
συμβαίνει: additur
ὥσπερ εἴρηται ad definienda verba
ἔστιν ὅτε συμβαίνει, est cum evenit, ut dictum, adversus ea quae anima carent, nempe ut fiat pro ignoratione cognitio, sive
ἐξ ἀγνοίας εἰς γνῶσιν μεταβολή, et quidem talis mutatio, qua homines ad fortunam aut infortunium destinati se amare aut aversari incipiant. nimirum interdum ex fortuitis rebus homines suam aliorumque condicionem et sortem ita intelligunt, ut inde amicitia aut odium exsistat, ceterum loci lectio dubia est. nam
ὅτε deest libris AcBcNa et Momnibus et GPQ. in nonnullis codicibus, ut in GP et M XIV est
συμβαίνειν, quod grammatico deberi videtur sustentandae structurae studioso, postquam
ὅτε a subsequente
ὥσπερ absorptum erat. fortasse
ἔστιν ex versu continuo sequente huc temere tractum est, ut Aristoteles scripserit
καὶ γὰρ πρὸς ἄψυχα καὶ τὰ τυχόντα,
ὥσπερ εἴρηται,
συμβαίνει. –
καὶ εἰ πέπραγέ τις ἢ μὴ 1) "Ex mera verborum vi coniiceremus ipsum Lyncea ad mortem duci etc. sed infra c. 18, 1. (si modo ad eandem tragoediam respicit, quod satis probabile est) non Lynceus, sed puer aliquis in capitis discrimen videtur venisse. hic autem puer Abas forte erat Lyncei filius. modum quidem quo periit Danaus, nemo veterum (qui scilicet hodie extant) tradidit; sed Hyginus, cuius fabulae ex tragicis saepissime derivatae sunt, mortem eius ab Abante parentibus nuntiatam bis commemoravit, fab. 170 et 273" 1 yrwhittus.
πέπραγεν,
ἔστιν ἀναγνωρίσαι : agnoscere aliquis potest, utrum actionem iam odiosam aut optandam omiserit aut susceperit.
4.
mvp-aristotle-comment-81
Ritter, cap. 11 § 4
ἢ ἔλεον ἕξει ἢ φόβον, h. e. sive in alios miserationem sive de ipsis timorem in nobis excitabit.
οἵων πράξεων, h. e.
φοβερῶν καὶ ἐλεεινῶν, actiones quibus miseratio ac timor excitatur.
5.
mvp-aristotle-comment-82
Ritter, cap. 11 § 5
αἱ μὲν θατέρου πρὸς τὸν ἕτερον μόνον: talis agnitio inest in Aeschyli Choephoris: Orestes enim sororem Electram noverat, ipse autem se Electrae et verbis et signis quibusdam agnoscendum praebet. -
οἷον ἡ μὲν Ἰφιγένεια τῷ Ὀρέστῃ ἀνεγνωρίσθη ἐκ τῆς πέμψεως τῆς ἐπιστολῆς: ex missa epistola agnoscitur Iphigenia a fratre Oresta in Euripidis Iphigenia Tauricensi v. 759-792. mirum rursus est Euripidis nomen reticeri, cum et Aeschylus et Sophocles Iphigeniam (Aulidensem) scripserint, et Polyidus Tauricensem ediderit. conferantur quae ad §. 1. huius capitis a nobis dicta sunt. accedit quod
ἐκ τῆς πέμψεως τῆς ἐπιστολῆς non vere dictum est: Iphigenia enim illas litteras non mittit sed ipsa tradit.
ἐκείνῳ δὲ πρὸς τὴν Ἰφιγένειαν ἄλλης ἔδει ἀναγνωρίσεως. conf. Iphigen. Tauricens. v. 811-826.
6.
mvp-aristotle-comment-83
Ritter, cap. 11 § 6
δύο μὲν οὖν τοῦ μύθου μέρη περὶ ταῦτ᾽ ἐστί,
περιπέτεια καὶ ἀναγνώρισις,
τρίτον δὲ πάθος: iam in loca duo admodum spinosa incurrimus (dico hanc §. 6 et totum c. 12), quae si ab Aristotele sunt, ille qui adhuc de poesi optima quaeque docuit, idem falsissima et inutilia puerili explicatione protulit, sed veniamus ad singula. duae fabulae partes circa haec sunt, tertia autem perpessio. quid hoc ? num vere peripetia et agnitio fabulae (
τοῦ μύθου) partes esse possunt, cum modo expositum sit peripetiam et agnitionem uni fabulae implexae competere, iisque ipsis differre a simplice implexam? dicat quispiam, at Aristoteles
τὸν μύθον dixit eam fabulam de qua proxime disputavit, h. e. implexam. si id vel invita lingua concederemus, quid inde sequetur? scilicet
τὸ πάθος esse uniusimplexae fabulae partem, quod falsissimum est, sed vide quaeso quomodo novum illud prioribus adiungatur,
τρίτον δὲ πάθος. id ita explicari potest, ut hoc tertium
περὶ ταῦτ᾽ εἶναι dicatur (eo verba ducunt), aut ut idem pro tertia mythi parte venditetur. si prius admittis, absurdum est dicere
πάθος circa id versari circa quod agnitio et peripetia, si alterum, non minus falsum est docere tres fabulae partes esse peripetiam agnitionem perpessionem, cum duae priores a multis fabulis plane abesse possint, perpessio autem ne pro parte quidem fabulae haberi possit. considera quae sequuntur,
τούτων δὲ περιπέτεια μὲν καὶ ἀναγνώρισις εἴρηται: scribere debuit
τούτων δὲ περιπέτεια μὲν καὶ ἀναγνώρισις τί ἐστι,
εἴρηται vel
τούτων δὲ περὶ περιπετείας μὲν καὶ ἀναγνωρί σεως εἴρηται. hoc,
περιπέτεια εἴρηται, nihil est nisi peripetiae nomen ante positum est. denique haec
πάθους definitio utique caret omni philosophi sagacitate et accuratione elocutionis. restat aliud indicium quo haec admodum suspecta fiant, idque mox afferre placet. accedimus enim ad alterum illum locum Aristotelis gravitate et nomine non minus indignum.
1.
mvp-aristotle-comment-84
Ritter, cap. 12 § 1
Tragoediae quantitatis ratione inita quattuor partes inveniuntur, prologus episodium exodus choricum. chorici partes sunt parodus et stasimum; accedunt ex scena cantica et commi. Bene sane factum est quod quae iam sequuntur, quamvis et loco alieno collocata et verbis mirum in modum expressa, ad nostram notitiam pervenerunt: inde enim et melius et plenius quam aliunde discimus, in quas partes antiqui grammatici tragoediam discreverint, discretas quibus nominibus appellaverint. nihilo minus haec, quibus pretium suum derogare nolo, Aristoteli abiudicanda esse censeo. tria sunt quae ut sic statuam mihi suadent. primum egregia illa fabulae (
τοῦ μύθου) explicatio hisce interiectis absurde interpellatur, neque ullus toto libro locus inveniri potest, ubi haec apte sedem sibi vindicent. scilicet de fabula exposuit Aristoteles inde a capite 7. usque ad c. 11, 5., reditque ad eandem c. 13., et ita redit ut in disputatione continuo sequente partes illae c. 12. enumeratae omnino negligantur 1). itaque haec partium tragoediae enumeratio ineptissimo loco posita est. secundum quo interpolator se prodit signum hoc est, quod nonnisi nuda nomina exhibentur, quorum descriptio non ex fine tragoediae proposito, non ex interna eius forma et constitutione, id quod deceret philosophum, sed ex habitu illius externo petitur. ulna utitur qui haec scripsit, ulna et norma unice gaudet, id quod alienum est a disputandi ratione Aristoteli probata et a genuinis huiusce operis reliquiis. quo igitur consilio haec doceantur dici nequit, vel potius inane scribenti consilium hoc fuit, edito doctrinae suae specimine curare ut lectores quorundam nominum ad tragoediam pertinentium significationem addiscerent. tertium vero indicium ad detegendum interpolatorem omnium est manifestissimum quippe homo iste, auctorem suum quantum potuit imitaturus, in enarrationis suae aridissimae initio ponit formulam, cui similes sane multae ad transitum faciendum admissae in libris Aristotelis reperiuntur:
μέρη δὲ τραγῳδίας,
οἷς μὲν ὡς εἴδεσι δεῖ χρῆσθαι,
πρότερον εἴπομεν·
κατὰ δὲ τὸ ποσὸν καὶ εἰς ἃ διαιρεῖται κεχωρισμένα,
τάδε ἐστι. haec non male, sed cum idem ille propter ingenii sterilitatem nonnisi de externa tragoediae forma perpauca proferre potuisset, statim, scilicet ne parum videretur attulisse, explicationem 1) Contra aliquis moneat respici quae hoc capite exponantur infra c. 18, 2.
τραγῳδίας δὲ εἴδη εἰσὶ τέσσαρα·
τοσαῦτα γὰρ καὶ τὰ μέρη ἐλέχθη. sed haec ipsa non esse Aristotelis suo loco ostendetur.suam ita conclusam exhibuit:
μέρη δὲ τραγωδίας,
οἷς μὲν δεῖ χρῆσθαι,
πρότερον εἴπομεν,
κατὰ δὲ τὸ ποσὸν καὶ εἰς ἃ διαιρεῖται κεχωρισμένα,
ταῦτ᾽ ἐστίν. nimirum hac formula a se laboriose ac feliciter inventa ita iste gaudebat, ut quo minus brevissimo intervallo bis ea uteretur sibi temperare non posset. ad singula iam accedamus.
μέρη δὲ τραγῳδίας,
οἷς μὲν ὡς εἴδεσι δεῖ χρῆσθαι,
πρότερον εἴπομεν: partes tragoediae prius enumeratas intelligit illas, quae a vero Aristotele c. 6, 7.
μέρη,
καθ' ἃ ποιά τις ἐστὶν ἡ τραγῳδία, designantur,
μῦθος ἤθη λέξις διάνοια ὄψις μελοποιία. Hermannus et qui hunc sequitur Graefenhanius
πρότερον εἴπομεν ad proxime praegressa (c. 11, 6), h. e. ad
περιπέτειαν et
ἀναγνώρισιν et
πάθος spectare opinantur. illic vero non tragoediae partes sed fabulae (
τοῦ μύθου), neque cuiusvis fabulae partes sed unius implexae a personato auctore enumeratae sunt. ipsum
πρότερον huic explicationi repugnat.
κοινὰ μὲν ἁπάντων ταῦτα,
ἴδια δὲ τὰ ἀπὸ τῆς σκηνῆς καὶ κόμμοι. nomen
ἁπάντων quo referatur quaerunt ambiguntque interpretes, et iure quidem dum ambigunt, nonnulli
δραμάτων supplent, alii omnes poetas intelligunt, alii omnes chori personas, neque ulla ex his interpretationibus non obnoxia est gravi dubitationi, sed ea culpa non est interpretum sed auctoris obscure vitioseque scribentis. nam obscure ille locutus est, quia vocem tam incertam (
ἁπάντων) dedit, qua multa et varia consignari possunt, vitiose, quia omnibus non opposuit nonnullos (
ἐνίους s.
ἔνια) vel aliud pronomen quod omnibus apte responderet. mihi verisimile videtur interpolatorem per
ἁπάντων omnia dramata intelligi voluisse, eisque opposita cogitasse cantica ex scena et planctus quae non in omnibus reperirentur, sed ne certi quidquam decerni de hac re possit, prohibet obscura negligenter scribentis elocutio.
τὰ ἀπὸ τῆς σκηνῆς ab actore quodam ex scena, non a choreutis ex orchestra, decantantur. haec cantica, si chorus non respondet,
μονῳδίαι vocantur, quibus Euripidem prae ceteris studuisse constat. vid. Aristophan. Ran. v. 849. 014. 1330. conf. Thesmophor. v. 1077. Pacis v. 1012. Photius in lexico:
μονῳδία,
ἡ ἀπὸ σκηνῆς ᾠδὴ ἐν τοῖς δράμασι,
καὶ μονῳδεῖν τὸ θρηνεῖν·
ἐπιεικῶς γὰρ πᾶσαι αἱ ἀπὸ σκηνῆς ᾠδαὶ ἐν τῇ τραγῳδίᾳ θρῆνοί εἰσι. idem:
μονῳδία λέγεται,
ὅταν εἶς μόνος λέγῃ τὴν ᾠδὴν,
καὶ οὐχ ὁμοῦ ὁ χορός. eadem hace paulo aliter disposita Suidas habet s. v.
μονῳδεῖν et
μονῳδία. conf. Hesychius s. v.
μονῳδεῖ et lex. a Bachmanno editum p. 303. de commis paulo post dicemus.
2.
mvp-aristotle-comment-85
Ritter, cap. 12 § 2
ἔστι δὲ πρόλογος μὲν μέρος ὅλοντρα - γῳδίας τὸ πρὸ χοροῦ παρόδου: iam incipit ulna sua uti et sic disputare, ut missa interna tragicae poesis natura curet, ne forte quo nomine singulae tragoediarum particulae vocandae sint lectores nesciant. prologus est igitur tota tragoediae pars quae posita est ante chori carmen parodicum. nomen
πάροδον h. 1. non de chori in orchestram ingressu sed de tragoediae parte quadam intelligendum esse definitio
παρόδου quae statim sequitur ostendit. Aristophanes tragoediae initium, h. e. primam orationem eius qui primum inducitur,
πρόλογον appellavit in Ranis v. 1119., ubi Euripidem Aeschyli tragoedias exagitantem haec dicere fecit:
καὶ μὴν ἐπ᾿ αὐτοὺς τοὺς προλόγους σοι τρέψομαι,
ὅπως τὸ πρῶτον τῆς τραγῳδίας μέρος πρώτιστον αὐτοῦ βασανιῶ τοῦ δεξιοῦ. ibidem cum Aeschylo imperatum esset ut
πρόλογον ἐκ τῆς Ὀρεστείας recitaret, ille dicto audiens tres versus qui primi sunt in Choephoris ac deinde quartum et quinti dimidiam partem ex oratione Orestis protulit. verus Aristoteles in Rhetoricis III, 14 init. cuiusvis carminis exordium
πρόλογον vocat:
τὸ μὲν οὖν προοίμιόν ἐστιν ἀρχὴ λόγου,
ὅπερ ἐν ποιήσει πρόλογος καὶ ἐν αὐλήσει προαύλιον·
πάντα γὰρ ἀρχαὶ ταῦτ᾽ εἰσί,
καὶ οἷον ὁδοποίησις τῷ ἐπιόντι. haec significatio nomini plane convenit:
πρόλογος enim ea est oratio quae ceteris prius admittitur. sed si
ὁ λόγος opponitur
τῷ μέλει, prologus ea complectitur quae ante chori adventum in scena peraguntur, h. e. quae prius dicuntur quam cantus inchoatur. hoc intellectu
πρόλογον dictum accepit scriptor anonymus apud Küsterum ante comoedias Aristophanis p. XIV (apud Bekkerum p. XII):
πρόλογος τὸ μέχρι τῆς εἰσόδου τοῦ χοροῦ μέρος. conf. Tzetzae Versus de tragica poesi editi a Dübnero in Museo Rhen. philolog. vol. IV. p. 403.
πρόλογος μέν ἐστι τὸ μέχρι χοροῦ τῆς εἰσόδου. nec vero haec significatio multum immutatur, si quando chorus ante adest quam histriones' in scenam ingressi sunt, quod factum videmus in Aeschyli Persis et Supplicibus atque in Rheso Euripidis: tum enim
πρόλογος continet illa quae ante a coryphaco recitantur quam totius chori canticum incipit, quae unius choreutae recitatio et
λόγος et
λέξις appellari potest. itaque in Persis prologus continetur v. 1-64., in Supplicibus v. 1-40., in Rheso v. 1-22. longius autem in prologo definiendo a significatione vocis
πρόλογος recessit technicus hic noster, dum quae primam
λέξιν totius chori praecedunt eo nomine complectitur. secundum hanc sententiam dimidia paene Oedipi Colonei pars (v. 1-667) ingenti prologo occupatur, sed ea culpa non est praestantissimi poetae: immo in culpa sunt technici notiones suas ex vagis notis componentes. cur
ὅλον μέρος, non
μέρος simpliciter, scripserit et hic et paulo post ubi episodium et exodus definitur, id in tali scriptore non curiose quaerendum existimo. fortasse significari voluit prologi ambitum plerumque satis magnum esse, item episodii exodique.
ἐπεισόδιον δὲ μέρος ὅλον τραγῳδίας τὸ μεταξὺ ὅλων χορικῶν μελῶν: quae ab histrionibus inter duo chori cantica aut inter semet ipsos aut inter ipsos et choreutas peraguntur,
ἐπεισόδιον efficiunt. nomen inde factum est, quod actorum colloquia nascentis artis tragicae aetate canticis choricis tamquam quoddam alienum vel secundarium interserebantur.
ὅλα μέλη chori quae circumdant
ἐπεισόδιον, aut parodus et stasimum aut duo stasima esse possunt. conf. anonymus apud Küsterum 1. c.
ἐπεισόδιον τὸ μεταξύ δύο χορικῶν μελῶν. Tzetzes 1. c.
ἐπεισόδιος δέ ἐστιν...
λόγος μεταξὺ πλὴν μελῶν χορῶν (lege
χοροῦ)
δύο.
ἔξοδος δὲ μέρος ὅλον τραγωδίας μεθ' ὃ οὐκ ἔστι χοροῦ μέλος: accuratius scripsisset
ὅλου χοροῦ μέλος. in ipsa enim exodo singuli choreutae in
κόμμοις interdum respondent canticis ab histrionibus ex scena fusis, et minora singulorum choreutarum carmina decantari et anapaesti coryphaei recitari possunt. ceterum vel sic definitio accommodari nequit ad omnes tragoedias, si quidem Aeschyli Supplices totius chori cantico concluduntur, et Eumenides in fine novi chori carmine instructae sunt. scriptor anonymus (apud Küsterum p. XIV) comoediae exodum a nostro tehnico discedens sic definivit:
ἔξοδος τὸ ἐπὶ τέλει λεγόμενον τοῦ χοροῦ. huic consentit scholiasta Aristophanis ad Vespas v. 270., Pollux IV, 108., Hesychius s. v.
ἐξόδιοι νόμοι. imperite Tzetzes 1. c. vers. 24.
ἡ δ' ἔξοδός τις τυγχάνει χοροῦ λόγος,
μεθ' ὃν χοροῖς οὐκ ἔστι τι λέγειν μέλος.
πάροδος μὲν ἡ πρώτη λέξις ὅλου χοροῦ: si nomen
παρόδου (Einzug) premis, quae chorus canit vel coryphaeus recitat, dum choreutae in orchestram sive a dextra sive a sinistra parte per apsides ingrediuntur, ea voce consignantur. id fere fecerunt grammatici, ut scholiasta Euripidis ad Phoeniss. v. 210 (202):
πάροδος δὲ ἐστιν ᾠδὴ·
χοροῦ βαδίζοντος ἀδομένη ἅμα τῇ εἰσόδῳ. item scholiasta Aristophanis ad Vespas v. 270., qui coryphaei exhortationem inter chori in orchestram adventum (230-247) enuntiatam
πάροδον appellavit. alios grammaticorum de parodo locos collectos attulit G. C. W. Schneiderus de Re scenica Atheniensium pag. 205 sq., quibus iam addendus est I. Tzetzae definitio in Versibus de tragica poesi v. 35-42. a Dübnero evulgatis in Museo Rhen. philologico t. IV. p. 403. eiusmodi vero parodus multis tragoediis omnino deest, Sophocliis quidem omnibus, excepta Aiace, deest. hoc cum alios tum Pseudo - Aristotelem videtur impulisse, ut aliam definitionem parodi excogitarent. nam hic noster nonnisi totius chori primum carmen (
πρώτην λέξιν iste dixit) nomine parodi intelligi voluit, eodemque intellectu eandem vocem a Plutarcho acceptam fuisse patet ex illius quaestione an seni sit gerenda res publica c. 3. p. 785 A (IV. I. p. 152. apud Wyttenb.):
Σοφοκλῆς δὲ λέγεται μὲν ὑπὸ τῶν υἱῶν παρανοίας δίκην φεύγων ἀναγνῶναὶ τὴν ἐν Οἰδίποδι τῷ ἐπὶ Κολωνοῦ πάροδον,
ᾗ ἐστιν ἀρχὴ εὐίππου (
ν. 668),
ξένε,
τᾶσδε χώρας.” quae sint huiusce definitionis
τῆς παρόδου incommoda, neuter eorum videtur vidisse vel curavisse. iam enim, ut ante notavimus, dimidia fere Oedipi Colonei pars prologus est. porro idem huius fabulae carmen (v. 668 sqq.) non minus pro stasimo quam pro parodo haberi potest. nam quia omnes chori personae hic demum canere incipiunt, parodus est. sed idem canticum stasimum est, quia neque anapaestorum neque trochaeorum systemata admixta sunt. idem dici potest de primo carmine chorico Oedipi Regis v. 151 - 215. aliisque pluribus. his expositis, dicendum restat cur
λέξιν ὅλου χορού h. 1. legamus, ubi
μέλος exspectamus. hoc ego technico nostro parum caute scribenti excidisse puto, quemadmodum apud Photium et Suidam legimus
μονῳδία λέ γεται,
ὅταν εἶς μόνος λέγῃ τὴν ᾠδήν. conf. Argumentum Persarum Aeschyli
τῶν δὲ χορῶν τὰ μὲν ἐστι παροδικά,
ὡς ὅτε λέγει δι' ἣν αἰτίαν πάρεστιν,
ὡς τὸ “
Τύριον οἶδμα λιποῦσα,” h. e. primum carmen choricum Phoenissarum Euripidis v. 202 sqq. Tzetzes 1. c.
ὅλου χοροῦ λέξις τε πρώτη τυγχάνει·
ᾠδὴν ὁ Εὐκλείδης δέ,
λέξιν οὐ λέγει. accuratius igitur Euclides locutus est de parodo quam ceteri technici solebant. de iis qui parodum
λέξιν et qui
αδὴν nominabant, Tzetzes v. 42. monet, et recte monet, ut mihi videtur,
ταυτὸν τάχα λέγοντες ἐν πολλοῖς λόγοις. Hermannus et Müllererus, ille in Commentariis ad h. 1. pag. 142., hic in Museo Rhenano philolog. t. V. p. 362., existimant
λέξιν, non
ᾠδήν, consulto ab Aristotele positam esse, ne systemata anapaestica 2), quae ab uno coryphaeo recitata esse, non a toto choro cantata, certum est, a parodo excluderentur. sed ita 2) Nobile exemplum anapaestorum ab uno coryphaeo recitatorum et strophis intersertorum praebet parodus Antigonae Sophocliae v. 100 - 161.auctor personatus sibi ipse non constabit, cum parodum totius chori
λέξιν esse dicit et nihilo minus unius coryphaei anapaestos recipere voluit, aut ille hoc ignoravit, anapaestos non cani a choro sed recitari a coryphaeo. accedit quod
ὅλου χοροῦ λέξις nihil nisi carmen esse potest: totus enim chorus nunquam loquitur, sed semper canit. hoc recte monuit Tyrwhittus. diligenter et docte, ut solet, Odofr. Müllerus nuper de parodo disputavit in Museo Rhenano philolog. t. V. p. 360 sqq., sed virum aequissimum sententiam suam aliqua ex parte immutaturum esse, ubi haec legerit, confido.
στάσιμον δὲ μέλος χοροῦ τὸ ἄνευ ἀναπαίστου καὶ τροχαίου:
τὸ ἄνευ ἀναπαίστου καὶ τροχαίου τo consilio addita esse puto, ut, si quando stasimo coniuncta essent systemata anapaestica vel trochaica, haec ad ipsum stasimum non pertinere moneretur. sic in Sophoclis Aiace post prologum (v. 1-133), dum chorus in orchestram ingreditur, primum sex systemata anapaestica a coryphaeo recitantur (v. 134-171), iisque parodus absolvitur, tum sequitur carmen a choro stante (
στάσιμον) decantatum (v. 172 - 200). dum anapaesti illi recitantur, chorus non stat sed in orchestrae mediam partem ingreditur. aliud exemplum ex Aeschyli Agamemnone petere licet. chorus ingredi orchestram incipit a versu 40., et hinc usque ad v. 103. novem systemata anapaestica a coryphaco recitantur, et haec
τὴν πάροδον efficiunt; continuo sequitur stantis chori carmen (
στάσιμον) a versu 104. usque ad 257. in eiusdem Supplicibus statim ab initio chorus ingreditur, quod dum fit, coryphaeus decem systemata anapaestica (v. 1-40) recitat, quo facto stantis chori carmen inchoatur. eiusmodi igitur systemata a carmine chorico excludi technicus voluit. sed idem cur etiam
ἄνευ τροχαίου addidit ? scilicet
τροχερός est numerus trochaicus et ad saltandum aptus, non ad standum, ideoque cantica ex trochaeis continuis composita ex stasimis eximenda putavit. fortasse cogitavit eiusmodi carmina quae apud Aeschylum in Eumenid. v. 997-1002. leguntur:
χαίρετ' ἀστικὸς λεώς,
ἴκταρ ἥμενοι Διός,
παρθένου φίλας φίλοι σωφρονοῦντες ἐν χρόνῳ.
Παλλάδος δ' ὑπὸ πτεροῖς ὄντας ἅζεται πατήρ. baec et similia a saltante choro cantata esse dubitari nequit. conf. eiusdem fabulae v. 1014 - 1020. Prometh. v. 415-417. 420-422. Hermannus olim (in Comment. ad h. 1.) stasima inde dicta putabat, quod carmina essent perpetua sive systematis anapaesticis trochaicisve non interrupta, sed hanc sententiam ab ipso iam improbari credo. nam perpetuus Graece dicitur non
στάσιμος sed
συνεχής. stasima recte tradunt grammatici Graeci dicta esse propterea quod canerentur a stantibus choreutis, quamquam modicos ac decoros motus ne ab his quidem carminibus remotos fuisse verisimile videtur. locos grammaticorum de
στασίμοις exponentium collectos posuit Schneiderus in Re scenica Atheniensium p. 207. conf. Odofr. Müllerus ad Aeschyli Eumenides p. 95. illis locis iam accedit Tzetzes 1. c. vers. 51 sqq.
ἄλλοι δὲ τὸ στάσιμον χοροῦ φασὶν μέρος (1.
μέλος)
ἄνευ ἀναπαίστου καὶ τροχαίου τῶν μέτρων·
πάλιν ὁ Εὐκλείδης δέ φησιν σιν ὧδέ πως ·
ὅταν χορὸς στάς τι κατάρχεται λέγειν. in versu postremo
λέγειν negligenter dictum esse pro
άδειν memineris. Tzetzes illam priorem definitionem et alteram Euclidis non re sed verbis differre pronuntiat (
καὶ ταῦτα πολλοῖς ἓν τελοῦσι τοῖς λόγοις), et recte pronuntiat, quoniam, dum illa systemata anapaestica recitantur, choreutae in mediam orchestrae partem procedunt, itemque non stantes sed saltantes trochaica systemata decantare solent. itaque
μέλος χοροῦ ἄνευ ἀναπαίστου καὶ τροχαίου idem est atque
μέλος ὃ χορευταὶ στάντες ἄδουσιν.
κόμμος δὲ θρήνος κοινὸς χοροῦ καὶ ἀπὸ σκηνῆς: nomen
κόμμοι inde factum est, quod plerumque unus vel alter canentium sese plangebat doloris ostentandi causa.mira est huius technici etiam h. 1. sive dicendi brevitas sive negligentia. debuit saltem
κόμμος δὲ θρήνος κοινὸς τοῦ χοροῦ καὶ τῶν ἀπὸ σκηνῆς, sed articulum saepius hoc capite omisit, ubi verus Aristoteles haud dubie illum positurus erat. de commo absurda quidem Tzetzes attulit, sed quae contemnere nobis non licet, propterea quod ex eius verbis patet, huius technici definitionem ignotam ei non fuisse: scribit igitur 1. c. vers. 64 sqq.
οὗτος δ᾽ ὁ κόμμος τοῦ χοροῦ τελῶν μέρος ὑποκριταῖς ἦν ὡς πολὺ συνηγμένος,
κόμμος δὲ θρήνου πενθικώτερος πλέον.
ὁ θρῆνός ἐστιν ἠρεμέστερον μέλος.
κόμμον πάλιν ἄλλος δέ τις θρῆνον λέγει,
κοινὸν χοροῦ σκηνῆς τε τυγχάνει λέγων.
3.
mvp-aristotle-comment-86
Ritter, cap. 12 § 3
μέρη δὲ τραγῳδίας,
οἷς μὲν δεῖ χρῆσθαι,
πρότερον εἴπομεν - ταῦτ᾽ ἐστίν: vide quomodo interpolator, quem hac formula mire delectatum fuisse supra dixi, variandae orationi consuluerit. nimirum modo scripserat
μέρη δὲ τραγῳδίας,
οἷς μὲν ὡς εἴδεσι δεῖ χρῆσθαι, nunc scribit
μέρη δὲ τραγῳδίας,
οἷς μὲν δεῖ χρῆσθαι, unde inepta oritur sententia, quasi partibus proxime enumeratis uti nihil cogat. moneo ne quis existimet haec librarii culpa ex initio capitis huc delapsa esse. si hoc factum esset, fideliter repetita forent omnia: nunc vero et variationem illam modo memoratam satisque gravem deprehendimus, et in capitis fine
ταῦτ᾽ ἐστίν legimus, in initio
τάδε ἐστί, et recte quidem :
τάδε enim ad sequentia,
ταῦτ' ad proxime praegressa refertur.
εἴπομεν BCNa et M 14 XIV et GL:
εἴπαμεν Ac et M 16 21 et Q. Bekkerus
είπαμεν recepit.13. §. 2. 173
1.
mvp-aristotle-comment-87
Ritter, cap. 13 § 1
Quae sint consectanda, quae cavenda in fabula tragica componenda, quae sit praeferenda argumenti constitutio disputatur. Fabulae sive argumenti tragoediae subiecti explicationem paene ad finem capitis undecimi perductam (c. 11, 5) et nondum absolutam interrumpi subito vidimus technici cuiusdam importuno studio, qui Aristoteliae Poeticae fragmenta cum conglutinare vellet et supplere, magis etiam perturbavit omnia et Graecarum litterarum historiam et hic et alibi magnis difficultatibus implicuit. sed veri Aristotelis fabulae pertractatio modo inepte interpellata hoc capite revocatur et sequente demum concluditur verbis
περὶ μὲν οὖν τῆς τῶν πραγμάτων συστάσεως,
καὶ ποίους τινὰς εἶναι δεῖ τοὺς μύθους,
εἴρηται ἱκανῶς. pergit igitur philosophus exponere quae c. 11, 5. intercisa sunt, pergit explicare argumenti compositionem, eorum habita ratione quae c. 10 et 11. de argumentis simplicibus et implexis, de agnitione et peripetia dicta erant, docetque quid in illis adhibendis fugiendum, quid consectandum sit.
τὸ τῆς τραγῳδίας ἔργον: tragoediae opus sive officium est id quod efficere tragoediae propositum est. conf. c. 6, 12.
οὐ ποιήσει ὃ ἦν τῆς τραγῳδίας ἔργον.
ἐφεξῆς ἂν εἴη λεκτέον τοῖς νῦν εἰρημένοις : attende animum, lector benivole. quae sequuntur apte sucсе- dunt post c. 11, 5.: sed eadem haec post c. 12. collocata omni vinculo carent.
2.
mvp-aristotle-comment-88
Ritter, cap. 13 § 2
ἐπειδὴ οὖν δεῖ-ἀλλὰ πεπλεγμένην: haec scribit respiciens quae c. 11. disputaverat. illud tamen, fabulam implexam esse pulcherrimam, non tam demonstravit quam obscure significavit, nisi illa disputatio in brevius ab epitomatore quodam contracta est. conf. Comment. ad. c. 18, 5 extr.
τοὺς ἐπιεικεῖς ἄνδρας: vir
ἐπιεικής is est quem esse decet, h. e. nullis vitiis infectus, et pluribus virtutibus ornatus.
οὐ γὰρ φοβερὸν οὐδὲ ἐλεεινὸν τοῦτο,
ἀλλὰ μιαρόν ἐστιν: viri egregie innocentis insignis calamitas in tragoedia repraesentata neque metum neque miserationem nostram potest excitare, propterea quod illam accidere posse primum credere vix sustinemus, tum quod indignatio de eiusmodi casu in nobis orta metum miserationemque opprimere solet. illud enim indignum est ac foedum (
μιαρόν), ideoquc non misereri nos facit, sed indignari. huius pronuntiati veritatem praeclare perspexit et optime vindicavit Lessingius in Dramaturgia Hamburgensi c. 82.
οὔτε γὰρ φιλάνθρωπον οὔτε ἐλεεινὸν οὔτε φοβερόν ἐστιν : ubi improbus ex infelice felix evaserit, neque timor neque miseratio, ne id quidem quod prope ad miserationem accedit, h. e.
τὸ φιλάνθρωπον, excitari potest.
τὸ μὲν γὰρ φιλάνθρωπον ἔχοι ἂν ἡ τοιαύτη σύστασις: si vir improbus pro felice factus erit infelix, ne id quidem tragicum videbitur. nam cum ea sit humanissimi cuiusque natura, ut vel scelestissimi hominis calamitate moveatur, miseratio tamen metusque illa re oriri nequeunt. nam ut miseratione afficiamur, requiritur ut innocens sit qui aerumnis conflictatur:
ὁ μὲν (
ἔλεος)
γὰρ περὶ τὸν ἀνάξιών ἐστι δυστυχοῦντα. conf. Rhetor. II, 8 et 9. nec vero metus emergit, ne nobis idem accidat, cum nemo spectantium vel legentium tam sese improbum esse credat, ut simili poena plecti çommereat.
ἔλεος μὲν περὶ τὸν ἀνάξιον,
φόβος δὲ περὶ τὸν ὅμοιον: mirum sane videtur neminem adhuc vidisse haec orta esse ex nota in margine posita. nimirum additamentum ad sententiam enuntiandam non modo plane supervacaneum est, sed etiam his verbis sublatis ne vestigium quidem obscuritatis exsistit, cum unusquisque Graece mediocriter doctus
ὁ μὲν referri intelligat ad
έλεον modo positum, alterum autem
ὁ δὲ ad
φόβον. copiosius Aristoteles de miseratione metuque disputavit in Rhetoricis II, 5 et 8 et 9.
3.
mvp-aristotle-comment-89
Ritter, cap. 13 § 3
ἔστι δὲ τοιοῦτος –
δι᾽ ἁμαρτίαν τινά : hanc sententiam Aristoteles pronuntiavit tum ob finem tragoediae optime a se perspectum, tum ob praeclara tragicae artis Graecorum opera, ex quibus prae ceteris Sophoclias tragoedias videtur respexisse. conferenda sunt quae Lessingius ad hunc locum illustrandum exposuit in opere illo laudatissimo c. 82.
κακία improbitas est animo inhaerescens;
μοχθηρία et
πονηρία improbis factis alios laedit:
μόχθους vel
πόνους aliis hominibus creare solet
ὁ μοχθηρός et
ὁ πονηρός.
τῶν ἐν μεγάλῃ δόξῃ ὄντων καὶ εὐτυ χίᾳ: haec non iam ex prioribus necessario consequuntur, sed nova accedunt. homines magni nominis ac felices tragoediae aptiores sunt, propterea quod
περιπέτεια in talibus admodum illustris contingit. accedit quod multis spectantium facta moresque horum hominum cognita sunt.
οἷον Οἰδίπους καὶ Θυέστης: praeter alios quod tres illi Graecae tragoediae principes Oedipi nomine tragoedias scripserunt, ex quibus ad nos pervenit duplex ille Sophoclis Oedipus, quod item Sophocles Thyestae nomine duas, unam Carcinus et Agatho unam evulgavit, id h. 1. Aristoteles non respexit, sed Oedi pum et Thyestam tamquam personas a mythica historia oblatas tragoediaeque aptas designavit.
4.
mvp-aristotle-comment-90
Ritter, cap. 13 § 4
ἀνάγκη ἄρα τὸν καλῶς ἔχοντα μῦθον ἁπλοῦν εἶναι μᾶλλον ἢ διπλοῦν: hoc cum pronuntiat, libri sui locum c. 8. pertractatum lectoribus in mentibus haerere recentem existimat, iisque nititur quae de unitate fabulae illic exposita sunt.
μῦθος ἁπλοῦς dum opponitur
τῷ διπλῷ alio intellectu accipiendus est quam c. 10., ubi idem contrarius est
τῷ πεπλεγμένῳ,
ἁπλοῦν μῦθον nunc eum dicit, in quo est simplex transitus aut ex aerumnis ad res secundas aut ex rebus secundis ad labores, eumque esse meliorem contendit quam duplicem, in quo miseri pro felicibus simulque qui felices miseri ostenduntur. conf. infra §. 7.
ὥσπερ τινές φασιν: hi sunt qui ante Aristotelem de re scenica scripserant, quique duplicem praestare simplici fabulae docuerant. eosdem tangit §. 7. conf. Comment. ad c. 9, 8.
καὶ μεταβάλλειν οὐκ εἰς εὐτυχίαν ἐκ δυστυ
χίας ἀλλὰ τουναντίον ἐξ εὐτυχίας εἰς δυστυ χίαν: nempe ex tali in res adversas conversione facilius
τὸ φοβερὸν καὶ ἐλεεινὸν oritur. ceterum non obliviscendum est philosophum loqui h. 1. de tragoedia pulcherrima et omnium optima, ut ex his verbis colligi haud liceat felicem tragoediae eventum, qualis est Philoctetae et Iphigeniae Tauricensis, ab illo prorsus improbari. secus id esse vel ex fine c. 7. et ex c. 11. §. 4. liquet. -
ἢ οἷου εἴρηται,
ἢ βελτίονος μᾶλλον ἢ χείρονος: aut eius qui descriptus est paulo ante (§. 2), aut eius qui probitate magis quam improbitate excellit.
5.
mvp-aristotle-comment-91
Ritter, cap. 13 § 5
τοὺς τυχόντας μύθους ἀπηρίθμουν: fabulas forte oblatas decantabant.
ἀπηρίθμουν cum fastu quodam dictum est. ceterum ex his verbis ne colligas Aristolelem antiquis tragicis poetis praetulisse novos. ille enim nihil nisi hoc dicit, in eligendis fabulis novos tragoediarum scriptores, usu scilicet edoctos, cautius agere et prudentius. –
ἡ μὲν οὖν κατὰ τὴν τέχνην καλλίστη τραγῳ- dia: tragoediam quam hactenus descripsit artis legibus maxime respondere, h. e. ita factam esse ut finem huic generi poesis propositum ceteris facilius assequatur, dum monet, prudenter adiungit
κατὰ τὴν τέχνην. nam etiam ea tragoedia, cuius fabula ad artis leges bene constituta est, aliis vitiis inquinata potest esse unde fiat deterrima.
6.
mvp-aristotle-comment-92
Ritter, cap. 13 § 6
διὸ καὶ οἱ Εὐριπίδῃ ἐγκαλοῦντες τὸ αὐτὸ ἁμαρτάνουσιν:
τὸ αὐτὸ pertinet ad
ἐγκαλοῦντες, non ad
ἁμαρτάνουσιν: qui Euripidi id ipsum vitio vertunt. Reiziuş
αὐτοὶ scribendum coniecit et Hermanno adprobavit.
καὶ ὁ Εὐριπίδης - φαίνεται. nihil nisi tristis exitus tragoediarum Euripidearum laudatur. etiamsi una aliqua Euripidis virtus candide agnoscatur, multa tamen eius vitia auctorem nostrum haud latuisse monuit interiectis
εἰ καὶ τα ἄλλα μὴ εὖ οἰκονομεῖ. reprehenditur Euripides infra c. 15, 5. et c. 18, 7. item in Ethicis Nic. III, 1. p. 1110 a 27.
καὶ γὰρ τὸν Εὐριπίδου ᾿Αλκμαίωνα γελοῖα φαίνεται τὰ ἀναγκάσαντα μητροκτονῆσαι.
7.
mvp-aristotle-comment-93
Ritter, cap. 13 § 7
καθάπερ ἡ Ὀδύσσεια: mirum est pro exemplo citari Odysseam, ubi de argumentis tragicis, non de epicis, disputatur; quo accedit quod ipsum hoc additamentum post
καὶ τελευτῶσα ἐξ ἐναντίας τοῖς βελτίοσι καὶ χείροσιν, non ante ponendum erat.
καθάπερ ἡ Ὀδ. est glossa ad verba modo transcripta primo in margine posita et deinde in alienum contextus locum admissa. in fine Odysseae improbi (proci) trucidantur, Ulixes cum suis et amicis imperium recuperat. Aristotelis lectores in re manifesta exemplis supersedere poterant.
διὰ τὴν τῶν θεάτρων ἀσθένειαν: sententiam esse similem illi, quam Aristoteles in Rhetoricis III, 1. p. 1404 a 8.
διὰ τὴν τοῦ ἀκροατοῦ μοχθηρίαν enuntiavit, dubitari nequit: sed id sane dubium est, an
τὰ θέατρα numero plurali pro
τοῖς θεαταῖς dicere liceat. nam si
τὸ θέατρον et bene et saepe (vid. Aristoph. Acharn. 629. Equit. 233. 508. 1318. Рас. 735. Plato Conviv. p. 194 A. Pseudo - Aristoteles infra c. 16, 7) pro
θεαταῖς dicitur, inde tamen non consequitur etiam
τὰ θέατρα eodem intellectu poni posse. itaque
θεατῶν scribendum existimo.
τὰ θέατρα cuiuscumque generis spectacula denotant, ut apud Plutarchum An seni sit gerenda res publ. c. 24. p. 795 D (tom. IV. p. 192. ed. Wyt tenb.), ubi Euripides Timotheum dithyramborum scriptorem consolatur,
ὡς ὀλίγου χρόνου τῶν θεάτρων ὑπ' αὐτῷ γενησομένων.
8.
mvp-aristotle-comment-94
Ritter, cap. 13 § 8
ἔστι δὲ οὐχ αὕτη ἀπὸ τραγῳδίας ἡδονή: voluptas quae ex felice tragoediae eventu redundat, ea non ex tragoedia exit qua tragoedia est. quae sequuntur
ἀλλὰ μᾶλλον τῆς κωμωδίας οἰκεία cet. praecipue spectant mediam comoediam. in antiqua comoedia non inauditum erat et in solens, si fabula in tristem finem desineret, ut desinunt Nubes Aristophanis et desinebant eiusdem Babylonii et Daeta lenses. conf. Fritzschii de Daetalensibus Aristophanis Commentatio p. 133. :
1.
mvp-aristotle-comment-95
Ritter, cap. 14 § 1
Miseranda timendaque rectius excitantur factorum serie solerter instituta et conformata quam tristibus casibus in scena ante oculos spectatorum propositis. timor et miseratio quattuor modis ex rerum connexu nasci solent. Rerum in tragoedia gerendarum compositionem (
τὸν μῦθον) amplius explicaturus, primum monet hoc tragoediae officium nulla alia re satis compensari posse, neque spectaculis quibusdam hominum oculos mentesque percellentibus neque portentis rudes animos tenentibus, deinde pergit exsequi, quot modis quod miserandum et timendum ex rerum complexione oriatur.
ἔστι μὲν οὖν - ἐκ τῆς ὄψεως γίνεσθαι:
ἐκ τῆς ὄψεως est ex adspectu eorum quae tristia in scena peraguntur, veluti caedes et vulnera et dolores, praeterea homines olim felices et clari sed iam depressi laboribus et squalore sordeque insignes.
ὄψις et hic et paulo post non tragoediae pars est, ut c. 6, 4 et 7., sed solito suo munere fungitur.
δεῖ γὰρ καὶ ἄνευ τοῦ ὁρᾶν - ἐκ τῶν συμβαινόντων: qui dum agitur tragoedia oculis non utitur vel uti nequit, sed unis auribus quae fiunt percipit, is etiam timere debet et miseratione tangi, si poeta officio suo bene functus est. cave credas verum Aristotelem illud dicere voluisse, quod falsus bis monuit, semel c. 6, 19., iterum c. 26, 3., scilicet tragoediae vim etiam legendo apparere: immo cogitat aliquem qui dum datur fabula non nisi auribus quae funt (
τὸν ἀκούοντα τὰ πράγματα γινόμενα) excipiat. conf. Comment. ad. c. 6, 19.
2.
mvp-aristotle-comment-96
Ritter, cap. 14 § 2
τὸ δὲ διὰ τῆς ὄψεως τοῦτο παρασκευά - ζειν ἀτεχνότερον καὶ χορηγίας δεόμενόν ἐστιν: non dedit
ἀγῶνος καὶ ὑποκριτῶν, neque dare id potuit, quia fabulam legendam et spectandam secum componere non voluit, sed eam quae molesto ac pretioso apparatu indiget coniunxit cum ea quae illo adeo non eget, ut audire res eius argumento consertas sufficiat. itaque posuit
χορηγίας δεό μενον, non
ἀγῶνος καὶ ὑποκριτῶν: choragia enim cum in fabula agenda magni pretii constaret, cumque a chorago ad orchestram condecorandam et ad chorum conducendum, instituendum, ornandum multo maiores impensae faciendae essent, quam a civitate ad scenam instruendam et actores conducendos,
χορηγίαν generatim pro pretioso et operoso apparatu et apte dici posse et eo intellectu h. 1. accipiendam esse manifestum est. - ceterum lectori animum attendenti liquebit scriptorem personatum, quem c. 6, 19. deprehendimus, ex hoc loco sapientiam suam hausisse, sed eundem auctoris sui sententiam non recte accepisse. Aristoteles enim dicit, si quis ad excitandam miserationem et timorem nimium miserando quodam personarum agentium habitu tristique condicione oculis exposita utatur, id esse
ἀτεχνότερον καὶ χορηγίας δεόμενον. hoc sane prudenter et modice dictum. quid inde imitator fecit? is omnem modum excedens, ut solent imitatores exaggerare, pronuntiavit (c. 6, 19) totam
ὄψιν, h. e. totam actionem oculis excipiendam,
ἀτεχνότατον esse ac minime propriam artis poeticae, et hoc dicere sustinuit, quamvis verus Aristoteles paulo ante (c. 6, 4) monuisset
ὄψιν esse necessariam tragoediae partem.
ἀλλὰ τὸ τερατῶδες μόνον: qui nonnisi miras imagines, ad praestringendos scilicet spectantium oculos, con sectantur, veluti Gigantes et Titanes et Cyclopes, vel insolitos casus, ut sereno caelo fulminum fulgores et tonitruum fragores, illi ad delectandos spectatores non tragoediae vi utuntur, sed artificia quaedam adhibent quae ab arte tragica plane aliena videntur. ex eiusmodi fabulis licet voluptatem aliquam percipiamus, ea tamen non ex ipsa tragoedia manavit: delectatio enim tragoediae propria proficiscitur a miseratione et timore.
3.
mvp-aristotle-comment-97
Ritter, cap. 14 § 3
τὸν ποιητὴν esse poetam tragicum ex contextu verborum liquet. - “
τοῦτο - ἐμποιητέον:
τοῦτο esti
τὸi
ἐλεεινὸν καὶ τὰ φοβερόν. -
ποῖα οὖν δεινὰ ἢ ποῖα οἰκτρὰ φαίνεται τῶν συμπιπτόντων,
λάβωμεν: ut sententiam ab Aristotele in sequentibus enuntiatam recte intelligamus, attendere debemus ad verbum
φαίνεται, quod non idem est, ac
δοκεῖν, sed, apparere et in oculos, incurrere. itaque statim ea timenda et miseranda intelligit, quibus extemplo et facile omnes commoventur. non omnes tragoedias anse comprehendi, ne bonas quidem omnes, ipse ignorare non potuit.
λάβωμεν sanum esse vix credo. sententia quamquam manifesta est, tamen difficile est ad indicandum quod verbum ab initio h. 1. positum fuerit. aptum erat
λέγωμεν,
διίωμεν,
είπωμεν, alia, § 4.
ἂν μὲν οὖν ἐχθρὸς - μέλλων δείκνυσι: hine discimus miserationem spectantium ex Aristotelis sententia pertinere ad primariam tragoediae personam, certe ad eam quae peragit facinus, non ad eam quae perpetitur: nam setiamsi eius qui occidit inimicum inimicus non miseremur, illum tamen, qui occiditur miseratione complecti possumus, sed id philosophus minus spectavit et curavit, immo nonnisi obiter significavit verbis
πλὴν κατ' αὐτὸ τὸ πάθος. iam ubi inimicus inimicum interficit, is sponte inimicoque animo indulgens hoc facit, ut cum innocens esse non possit, nostra in illum miseratio non commoveatur, neque timor in nobis exoritur ne simile quidquam admittamus: nemo enim tam vecordem et nefarium se putat esse, ut propter inimicitias inimicum suum occidat.
οὐδ᾽ ἂν μηδετέρως ἔχοντες: siis qui neque odit neque diligit aliquem tollit, id facinus fere aut iure commissum est, aut incredibile videtur. illud spectator, non improbat, hoc incredulus odit. ri § 5
ιτητοὺς μὲν οὖν παρειλημμένους μύθους λύειμ οὐκ ἔστιν κτλ. traditas fabulas solvere, h. e. plane invertere, quamquam non licet, poeta tamen immutare et ad propositum sibi finem adaptare adeo debet. aliter sensit falsus Aristoteles. vid. c. 25, 7. 11/4186.
καθάπερ καὶ Εὐριπίδης -τὴν Μήδειαν: adiectum za
ὶ indicio est Euripidem in novis tragoediarumscriptoribus referri. Medeae versus significantur 1236-1250 et 1271-1292. -
τοῦτο μὲν οὖν ἐξω τοῦ δράματος: facinus ab Oedipo in Sophoclis Oedipo rege agnitum, hare. caedes patris Laii a se perpatrata, pluribus annis ante id tempus cuius casus in ea fabula explicantur, commissum erat. hoc est illud quod
ἔξω τοῦ δράματος Aristoteles vocavit.
οἷος ὁ ᾿Αλκμαίων ὁ ᾿Αστυδάμαντος: Astydamas tragicus Eriphylam in ipsa fabula trucidari fecit a filio Alcmaeone matrem illam esse nesciente. eodem nomine tragoedia Sophoclis et Euripidis duae olim exstiterunt. ex Euripi deis una inscripta erat
᾿Αλκμαίων ὁ διὰ Ψωφῖδος, altera
ὁ διὰ Κορίνθου. tragoediae Sophocliae tria frustula, Euripidearum plura attulit Dindorfius in
Αποσπασματίοις Poetarum scenicorum Gr. p. 33 et 77
ὁ Τηλέγονος ὁ ἐν τῷ τραυματίᾳ Ὀδυσσεῖ: fortasse Aristoteli de vero huius tragoediae auctore non satis constitit, ideoque eam cognomine definire maluit quam auctorem non satis certum proferre. Athenaeus pluribus saeculis post aut certius hanc rem exploraverat aut minus ille quam Aristoteles cautum se praestitit: scribit enim XIII. p. 562 F., ubi de Chaeremone agit,
ὁ δὲ αὐτὸς ποιητὴς καὶ περὶ τῶν ἐρώντων ἐν τῷ ἐπιγραφομένῳ Τραυματίᾳ φησὶν οὕτως cet. idem XIII. p. 608 E. Ulixem Chaeremonis tragoediam commemorat, unde liquet ab hoc vulneratum Ulixem ad Char remonem auctorem relatum esse. forsitan Athenaeus priore loco scripserit
ἐν τῷ Ὀδυσσεῖ τῷ ἐπιγραφομένῳ τραυματία. i
7.
mvp-aristotle-comment-98
Ritter, cap. 14 § 7
καὶ παρὰ ταῦτα οὐκ ἔστιν ἄλλως:
αρ praeter haec non licet aliter facere illum quem poeta in scenam tragicam produxit. statim quidem quattuor agendi modos enumerat, non tres, sed ex his quartum continuo ex tragoedia prorsus relegavit.
διόπερ οὐδεὶς - ὁ Αἵμων: haec ab interpolatorė quodam inserta esse recte pronuntiavit Gruppius ¹) in Ariadna 1) Gruppius etiam voces
ἀπαθὲς γάρ pro suppositiciis habet, sedp. 556., nisi quod vera argumenta falsis commiscuit. vere ille monuit hanc sententiam moleste inferri, neque esse quo commendetur, immo Sophoclem sine iusta causa vituperari; idemque recte observavit inepte dici
οὐδεὶς ποιεῖ,
εἰ μὴ ὀλιγάκις, articulumque ante
Αντιγόνη omitti praeter consuetudinem Aristoteliam. fallitur cum in vitiosae dictionis indiciis numerat
οἷος pro
οἷον :
οἷος enim nihil est nisi vitium editionis Bekkerianae maioris ab ipso editore in minore correctum; falsum est quod affirmavit,
οὐδεὶς ποιεῖ de poeta dici et mire ad Haemonem continuo referri: immo
ποιεῖ dictum est de persona a tragico poeta inducta, apteque statim de Haemone facinus in patrem commissuro dici potest. equidem addendum puto hoc, non modo Sophoclis Antigonam exstitisse, sed etiam Euripideam. verus igitur Aristoteles Sophoclis nomen non omisisset, si ipse, illum Antigonae locum ab interpolatore significatum (v. 1216-1219 ed. Herm.) pro exemplo attulisset, ut non omisit in Rhetoricis I, 13 init.. I, 15 init. III, 16. p. 1417 a 28 et b 19. III, 17. p. 1418 b 31. porro Aristoteles de eiusmodi facinoribus loquitur, unde totius tragoediae habitus et forma pendet: tale autem non est Haemonis. dignus esset Sophocles hac vituperatione, si Creon post multas minas nulla poena Antigonam affecisset. quae ad Sophoclem aut defendendum ab hac reprehensione aut incusandum a viris doctis in utramque partem disputata sunt, ea hoc quidem loco commemorare iam nihil attinet.
8.
mvp-aristotle-comment-99
Ritter, cap. 14 § 8
ἀγνοοῦντα μὲν πρᾶξαι,
πράξαντα δὲ ἀνα - γνωρίσαι: facinoris quod in hunc modum perpatratum et postea agnitum sit tria exempla paulo ante (§. 6) posita erant : item tria exempla deinceps afferuntur ad illustrandam tertiam facinoris committendi et agnoscendi rationem, ubi aliquis in eo est ut nefandum quoddam committat, sed ante quam facit rei atrocitatem agnoscit. ego sine certis argumentis nihil in hoc libro Aristoteli subtrahere sustineo..
9.
mvp-aristotle-comment-100
Ritter, cap. 14 § 9
κράτιστον δὲ τὸ τελευταῖον : ex iis tragoediis quae statim pro exemplis nominantur cum primam et secundam felici exitu fuisse certum sit, eandemque tertiae rationem fuisse admodum verisimile videatur, Aristotelem hoc loco ante a se dictis (c. 13, 4), ubi felicem tragoediae exitum infelici postponit, repugnare crediderunt. sed Lessingius in Dramaturgia Hamburgensi c. 38. apte monuit, non eam esse philosophi sententiam, ut ex agnitione totius fabulae pretium definiatur, immo tragoediam vel optima agnitione ornatam, nisi alia accedant, satis esse vilem ac tenuem. hoc vere. sed quod idem addit, nihil obstare quo minus in hoc genere agnitionis tragoedia tristi exitu concludatur, id quomodo salva unitatis lege fieri posset, neque explicuit neque explicare potuerit.
οἷον ἐν τῷ Κρεσφόντῃ : huius tragoediae auctorem reticeri et earum quae deinceps et c. 15, 5. nominantur, id mirum est et repugnat consuetudini ex aliis Aristotelis operibus cognitae. mihi duobus modis hoc explicari posse videtur. aut finis huiusce capitis (§. 9-11) et totum caput 15. ab interpolatore qui hanc libri formam concinnavit in brevius contracta sunt, cum iste et alia et fabularum laudatarum auctorem tamquam supervacanea omitteret, aut ipse Aristoteles Cresphontem auctoris nomine suppresso memorare sibi licere putavit, quoniam unus Euripides eo nomine tragoediam scripsisset, idemque sibi licere in Iphigenia et Hella, cum Euripides semel legentibus in memoriam vocatus esset, existimavit. eadem ratione defendi vel excusari quodammodo potest, quod c. 15, 5. quattuor Euripidis tragoediae commemorantur, cum primo loco ea posita esset, quo titulo nemo praeter Euripidem tragoediam evulgasset. quamquam, ingenue fateor, haec altera sive explicandi sive excusandi auctoris ratio parum mihi placet: nam vel illud, et Cresphontem nonnisi Euripideam et Orestem nonnisi Euripideam fabulam apud veteres exstitisse, quamquam verisimile est, nullo tamen argumento satis certo constat. de fabula subiecta Euripidis Cresphonti, cuius duodeviginti fragmenta restant, copiosedisputavit Lessingius in Dramaturgia Hamb. c. 37 et 40., hauriens sua ex Hygini fabulis 137 et 184., ex Plutarchi de esu carnium orat. II. c. 5. p. 998 Е.. ·
καὶ ἐν τῇ Ιφιγενείᾳ ἡ ἀδελφὴ τὸν ἀδελφόν: scriptoris menti obversatus est locus Iphigeniae Tauricensis v. 609-830.-
καὶ ἐν τῇ Ἕλλῃ : hanc fabulam aliunde non cognovimus. quae de filio matrem inimicis tradituro inde memorantur, ea Antiopae Euripideae apte inesse potuerunt, cuius tragoediae nomen huic ignoto substitui voluit Valckenarius. in Diatribe Eurip. p. 58-60.
ὅπερ πάλαι εἴρηται: dictum hoc erat c. 13, 5. - §. 11.
περὶ μὲν οὖν τῆς τῶν πραγμάτων συ στάσεως: iam concludit disputationem bonae frugis plenissimam, quam ad fabulae (
τοῦ μύθου) tragicae naturam et, rationem illustrandam inde a 7. capite inchoaverat.
1.
mvp-aristotle-comment-101
Ritter, cap. 15 § 1
Quae in exprimendis moribus personarum agentium tragico poetae observanda sint, quae fugienda docetur. Mores hominum in tragoedia agentium proximo post fabulam loco cum supra (c. 6, 14) collocati essent, nemo quidem mirabitur post absolutam fabulae explicationem auctorem adgredi ad morum pertractationem, sed id mirum videbitur unicuique attento animo totum librum perlegenti, ab hoc loco nimium languescere argumenti propositi expositionem, adeo ut modo nonnisi disiecta membra summi philosophi et prudentissimi hominis agnoscere videamur, modo virum ineptum et sola doctrina superbientem intueamur. prius illud cadit in disputationem quae c. 15. continetur. de moribus enim tragoediae pauca quaedam et ieiuna digitis enumerantur adiectis quibusdam non contemnendis observationibus. sed tam arida et tenuis est haec expositio, ut qui eam antecedenticomparaverit, vix Aristotele dignam iudicare possit. num, igitur pro suppositicia habenda est? non puto: nam quae interpolator ille a nobis saepe per hunc librum deprehensus inseruit, ea tot indiciis coarguuntur, ut haec de moribus dicta isti tribuere non possim. itaque sic statuo, Ari! stotelis de moribus disputationem ab isto interpolatore in epitomam redactam et nonnullis in locis mutatam ad nos per venisse. :
ὅπως χρηστά ᾖ: hoc praeceptum consequitur ex illis quae с. 13, 1-4. exposita leguntur. conf. c. 2 extr ceterum is cuius probi mores sunt minoribus nihilo minus vін! tiis obnoxius esse et magnis erroribus constrictus teneri potr est. –
ὥσπερ ἐλέχθη: epitomator idemque interpolator ad sua ipsius (c. 6, 17) bona ante exprompta provocat.
χρηστὸν δ' ἐὰν χρηστήν: quod ante
χρηστὸν plerique codices
ἢ vel
ἢ addunt, id ex proximo versu (
χρηστὰ ᾖ) huc delatum est. in editionibus praeterea legimus
φαῦλον μὲν ἐὰν φαύλην, sed hoc additamentum abest ab AcBcNa et. M omnibus et LPQ, neque adesse oportet, cum dicenti nihil propositum sit, nisi ut quos intelligat bonos mores indicet. me: lius adeo et facilius sequentia sic succedunt. nam cum scribit
ἔστι δὲ ἐν ἑκάστῳ γένει, ad
ἔστι intelligendum est
χρηστὸν ἦθος, idque fieri commode potest, si sola illa
χρηστὸν δ᾽ ἐὰν χρηστήν praecesserunt.
καίτοι γε ἴσως-φαῦλόν ἐστιν: genus muliebre virili comparatum sequius est et deterius, et servorum genus. cum liberis et ingenuis collatum omnino vile est, sed in suo genere unusquisque bene moratus esse ac studere rebus honestis potest. mira haec nobis videri solent, sed Aristotelis non minus severum de feminis iudicium legimus in eius Hi storia animalium IX, 1. p. 608 b 8-15.
2.
mvp-aristotle-comment-102
Ritter, cap. 15 § 2
δεύτερον δὲ τὰ ἁρμόττοντα: secundum praeceptum est ut poeta personis productis aptos mores affingat, de quibus praeclare agit Horatius in Arte poetica v. 114-124. haec Aristotelia nimium ieiuna et subobscura sunt et inepta brevitate laborant. offendit
τὰ ἁρμόττοντα ubi
τὸ-
ἁρμόττον exspectamus, offendit etiam
τὸ ἦθος ubi
τι ἦθος vel simile quoddam desideramus: sed haec epitomatori sinistre contrahenti genuinam disputationem imputanda puto. ...
3.
mvp-aristotle-comment-103
Ritter, cap. 15 § 3
τρίτον δὲ τὸ ὅμοιον-ὥσπερ εἴρηται: in his neque vola neque vestigium est ingenii Aristotelii. tertium quod poeta in moribus depingendis observare debeat, esse simile (
τὸ ὅμοιον), idque aliud esse quam bonos mores et aptos fingere, ut dictum. quae est illa comparatio, qua "simile" et "bonos aptosque mores" componuntur? quae definitio, qua "simile" aliud esse quam "bonos aptosque mores fingere" declaratur? quid tandem isto
ὥσπερ εἴρηται faciemus? num interpolator haec inseruit? fortasse ita est: sed uncis tamen illa includere nolui, quoniam epitomator bonam quandam Aristotelis sententiam male reddidisse videtur, et sententiam quidem ipsam quae subsequitur (§. 6),
χρὴ δὲ καὶ ἐν τοῖς ἤθεσιν ἀεὶ ζητεῖν ἢ τὸ ἀναγκαῖον ἢ τὸ εἰκός. qui haec sive inseruit sive brevioribus et minus aptis verbis reddidit, sua ne ipse quidem videtur intellexisse. nam exemplis continuo sequentibus non quattuor sed tria tantummodo morum vitia notantur, ut statim videbimus. iam non mirabimur hunc locum ab interpretibus varie acceptum esse. Victorius similes mores eos intelligit qui non abhorreant a moribus eius aetatis, unde homines in scenam producuntur, h. e. congruentes cum historia sive vera sive fabulosa. sed quis eiusmodi mores simpliciter
ὁμοίους appellaverit? nec vero omnes omnium tragoediarum personae ex historia repetuntur, neque mores cuiusvis temporis ubique a poeta religiose observandi sunt ac reddendi, immo nonnulla in moribus immutare ille et ad consilium suum accommodare debet. conf. c. 14, 5. Hermannus
τὸ ὅμοιον cum explicat
οἷα ἂν γένοιτο, ego ei ita consentio, ut haec fere dicere voluisse epitomatorem statuam, h. e. sententiam ipsius Aristotelis hanc fuisse, sed ab homine parum diligente corruptam et obscuratam esse.
4.
mvp-aristotle-comment-104
Ritter, cap. 15 § 4
τέταρτον δὲ τὸ ὁμαλόν: conf. Horatii in Arte poetica praeceptum v. 119. sibi convenientia finge, et praecipue v. 125.si quid inexpertum scenae committis et audes personam formare novam, servetur ad imum qualis ab incepto processerit et sibi constet.
ὁ τὴν μίμησιν παρέχων est persona in scenam inducta. ea si prae se fert inconstantiam (
τοιοῦτον ἦθος ὑποτιθείς, tragoediae scilicet sive poetae tragoediam scripturo), poeta tamen in depingenda inconstantia constantiam sequi debet, h. e. qui semel inconstans processit, talis usque ad imum servandus est. hoc est
ὁμαλῶς ἀνώμαλος εἶναι, acuta sane observatio et Aristotelis persona non indigna.
5.
mvp-aristotle-comment-105
Ritter, cap. 15 § 5
ἔστι δὲ παράδειγμα κτλ. tria morum pingendorum praecepta illustrare ita pergit, ut quomodo peccatum sit in primum et tertium singulis exemplis, et quomodo id quod aptum (
τὸ ἁρμόττον) non servatum sit, duobus exemplis demonstret.
πονηροῦ ἤθους (quod contrarium
τῷ χρηστῷ) exemplar Menelaus est qualem Euripides in Oreste monstravit;
τὸ ἁρμόττον violavit Euripides cum in Scylla lamentationem Ulixis et in Melanippa orationem minime convenientem puellae inseruit; inconstantiae vitium deprehenditur in Euripidis Iphigenia Aulidensi. Euripidis nomen epitomator brevitati nimium studens omisit. de singulis ordine dicam.
Μενέλαος ὁ ἐν τῷ Ὀρέστη: primum illud praeceptum quo commendatur tragico poetae, ut
χρηστὰ ἤθη fingat, Euripides in tragoedia Oreste violavit, cum Menelaum inconstantia foedum atque improbum finxit, eoque magis violavit quod neque argumenti illius natura neque fabulosae historiae traditione cogebatur (hoc est illud
μὴ ἀναγκαῖον), sed civibus suis Laconas aversantibus gratificaturus Menelaum Laconem talem descripsit. conf. Marklandius ad Euripidis Iphigen. Aulid. v. 304. qui argumentum Orestae conscripsit monet:
τὸ δράμα τῶν ἐπὶ σκηνῆς εὐδοκιμούντων,
χείριστον δὲ τοῖς ἤθεσιν·
πλὴν γὰρ Πυλάδου πάντες φαῦλοι ἦσαν.
θρῆνος Ὀδυσσέως ἐν τῇ Σκύλλῃ: transit ad peccata in alterum praeceptum commissa. Scyllam' nonnisi ex hoc loco et ex c. 26 init. cognovimus. Euripidis fabulam fuisse inde discimus quod media inter Euripideas af-COMMENTARIVS! fertur, drama Satyricum fuisse vir in his litteris versatissimus, Welckerus noster, mox demonstrabit. -
καὶ ἡ τῆς Μελανίππης ῥῆσις: Melanippam Euripidis tragoediam saepe, scriptores antiqui respiciunt, ac fragmenta non pauca inde servata sunt. inerat mira et arguta puellae Melanippae ad patrem oratio. illa enim cum geminum partuma Ne ptuno compressa edidisset et in patris stabulis clam exposuisset, ille autem infantulos tamquam monstra ex bubus nata comburere pararet, filia ex placitis Anaxagorae probare studuit, pueros quamvis ex bubus natos non pro monstris habendos esse; item multa alia attulit quibus patri interimendorum puerorum consilium dissuaderet. vid. Dionysii Halic. Rhetor. apud Reiskium vol. V. pag. 300 et 355. propter disputationis subtilitatem ea fabula
Μελανίππη ἡ σοφή vocabatur. quemadmodum lamentatio non decet Ulixem virum fortem, sic oratio tam subtilis et parum verecunda non convenit virgini tantis difficultatibus impeditae. sane et illud epitomatorem sapit quod
ῥῆσις Μελανίππης tam nude pro exemplo ponitur. –
ἡ ἐν Αὐλίδι Ἰφιγένεια: constantiae in moribus observandae praeceptum egressus est Euripides in Iphigenia Aulidensi, nimirum non hoc reprehenditur quod Iphigenia vitam sibi a patre primo supplex deprecatur ac mox rerum condicionem perspiciens mactandam sese offert, sed id recte me iudice vituperatur, quod eadem virgo quae v. 1211-1252. abiecte et humiliter flendo ne immoletur precatur, quaeque adeo ad inhonesta et turpia illa descendit,
τὸ φῶς τόδ' ἀνθρώποισιν ἥδιστον βλέπειν, い
τὰ νέρθε δ᾽ οὐδέν·
μαίνεται δ' ὃς εὔχεται θανεῖν,
κακῶς ζῆν κρεῖσσον ἢ θανεῖν καλῶς, quod eadem non multo post (v. 1368-1401) prorsus conversa et tamquam virago fortissima procedit. frustra non Euripidem sed Chaeremonem a se pro auctore fabulae habitum defendere atque hanc reprehensionem diluere conatus est Gruppius in Ariadna p. 487 sqq. et 498 sqq. idem totum hunc locum (§. 5) additamentum esse ab aliena manu insertum :opinatur. vid. p. 557 sqq. hoc si verum esset, tria alia exempla (§. 7) pro insertis maiore etiam iure habenda essent. sed hisce sublatis de moribus disputatio adeo quasi marcescit et vanescit, ut paucula quaedam frusta remaneant: sed cum eadem bonas observationes et pro illo interpolatore nimis egregias contineat, hunc de moribus locum ab illo non scriptum sed insigniter decurtatum et prave dispositum esse coniicere praestat. illud bene monuit Gruppius, ipsum Aristotelem Iphigeniam Euripideam non tam nude designaturum fuisse, cum et Sophocles et Aeschylus Iphigeniam docuerint et Polyidus sophista eodem nomine tragoediam evulgaverit. vid. infra c. 16, 6 et c. 17, 3. sed haec et alia in quibus offendit Gruppius, cur ita se habeant ex nostra ratione liquet. : :
6.
mvp-aristotle-comment-106
Ritter, cap. 15 § 6
χρὴ δὲ καὶ ἐν τοῖς ἤθεσιν-γίνεσθαι ἢ τὸ ἀναγκαῖον ἢ τὸ εἰκός: hoc quartum esse praeceptum, tragoediarum scriptori in moribus effingendis probe observandum ab Aristotele propositum, ego existimo: sed epitomatorem cum hoc fugisset, et iste mancam esse disputationem credidisset, illas de
τῷ ὁμοίῳ nugas (§. 3) suo iudicio inseruit, ut non tria sed quattuor enumerasse videretur. praecipit igitur Aristoteles poetae tragico, ut is in moribus describendis anquirat quod verisimile sit vel necessarium. hoc ipsum fit cum unusquisque agentium pro moribus suis et loquitur et agit, cumque ea accidunt, quae ex moribus illis aut semper aut plerumque consequuntur.
7.
mvp-aristotle-comment-107
Ritter, cap. 15 § 7
φανερὸν οὖν ὅτι καὶ τὰς λύσεις- συμτ βαίνειν: si quis fingit quae ex moribus hominum in scenam adductorum aut probabiliter aut necessario eveniunt, fabularum quas pertractavit solutio ex ipsis procedit, neque opus est ut ea externis quibusdam instrumentis efficiatur. sed qui deum ex machina quem vocant adhibet vel deos agere facit quae hominum sunt, is hoc praeceptum violare solet. ad hoc illustrandum quae sequuntur exempla ex Euripide et Homero petita luculente epitomatorem demonstrant, dico illa
καὶ μὴ ὥσπερ ἐν τῇ Μηδείᾳ ἀπὸ μεχανῆς καὶ ἐν τῇ Ἰλιάδι
τὰ περὶ τὸν ἀπόπλουν, quod statim ostendam ubi verba ipsa explicavero. hoc igitur reprehendit philosophus quod Medea Euripidea solari curru (
μεχανῇ) Corinthum iustasque scelerum poenas incolumis aufugit (v. 1320 sqq.), ut poeta
τὸ ἀναγκαῖον vel
τὸ εἰκὸς non observaverit. nam qui tanta est morum atrocitate quanta est Medea, quae quidem infantes suos pueros trucidare sustinet, eum non incolumem evasurum sed iustas crudelitatis poenas daturum exspectamus. quae succedunt,
καὶ ἐν τῇ Ἰλιάδι τὰ περὶ τὸν ἀπόπλουν, haec non iam pertinent ad verba
ἀπὸ μηχανῆς, sed eiusmodi exemplum est, ubi solutio non ex ipso rerum nexu et pro moribus agentium nascatur. reprehenditur locus quidam ex Homeri Iliade, et quidem ille quem etiamnum legimus B. 155- 181. nam cum Agamemnoni duci amicisque placuisset ad tentandam exercitus fidem repetendae patriae consilium simulare, Achivi tanto patriae desiderio moti sunt, ut etiam contra fatum conscensis navibus domum redirent, nisi Minervae interventu excitatus Ulixes id consilium dissuasisset. deae igitur auxilio ad hoc efficiendum non opus fuisse Arist. significavit: immo intervenire deam nunc quidem a nemine exspectari, sed unumquemque ex ducibus ad tam inhonestum inceptum praepediendum pro virili parte niti, hoc moribus corum convenisse. iam haec observatio tam acuta est ut interpolatori tribui nequeat, sed eadem loco adeo non apto posita est, ut qui hoc viro sapientissimo imputare velit prudentiae iniuriam facturus videatur. sed si Aristoteles finita primaria illa disputatione de fabularum tragicarum solutione moribus et rerum nexui rite adaptanda contrarium illud ex Euripide exemplum attulit ac deinceps monuit etiam ab epicis poetis in hoc praeceptum saepe peccari, quo facto si idem illud ex Homero exemplum protulit, sane hoc prudenter et apte institutum esse, ut decet Aristotelem, dicemus. hoc ipsum igitur ego statuo: technicus illam disputationem contrahendo quae media inter utrumque exemplum posita erant sustulit, exempla ipsa (quippe his ubique studet) servavit, sed usque adeo verborum parcus ut etiam Euripidis et Homeri nomina supprimeret. Aristoteles ipse Euripidem Medeae auctorem non reticuit c. 14, 6. Carcini Medea ad partes vocatur in Rhetoricis II, 23. p. 1400 b 9. Hermannus in Commentariis p. 161. veram loci interpretationem postquam tetigit, addit: "sed videndum ne de parva Iliade sermo sit, cuius partem fuisse
ἀπόπλουν colligimus ex XXIII, 7 (c. 23, 4). id quidem non aliter fieri potuit, nisi si excidit vocabulum
μι κρᾷ." Graefenhanius in Commentariis ad h. 1. p. 112. "innui aliquam tragoediam huius nominis" opinatur, cui assentiens Welckerus (in Museo Rhenano philolog. tom. V. p. 492) hanc tragoediam fuisse Aeschyli Philoctetam, quae alio nomine
Ἰλίου πέρσις vocata sit, coniecit.
ἀλλὰ μηχανῇ χρηστέον-προαγορεύσεως καὶ ἀγγελίας:
μηχανῇ breviter dicit pro
θεῷ ἀπὸ μηχανῆς. Horatius in Arte poetica v. 191. commendat hoc, nec deus intersit, nisi dignus vindice nodus inciderit.
τὰ ἔξω τοι δράματος quae sint, illatis
ἢ ὅσα πρὸ τοῦ γέγονεν ....
ὅσα ὕστερον explicatur.
ἢ ἄλογον δὲ μηδὲν εἶναι: si quis fingit quae moribus agentium convenienter accidunt et ex ipsa rerum coniunctione consequuntur, nihil a ratione alienum admittere potest. itaque quartum illud praeceptum egreditur qui
ἄλογόν τι admiscet.
οἷον τὰ ἐν τῷ Οἰδίποδι τῷ Σοφοκλέους: illud ratione caret quod Sophoclis Oedipus rex multis demum annis post Laii caedem a coniuge locasta comperit, qua clade et quo in loco Laius perierit, respicit Oedipi v. 715-754. sed rursus agnosce mihi epitomatorem. observatio bona est, sed tam obscure enuntiata, ut eam omnino non intelligeremus, nisi infra (c. 24, 10) eandem clarius verbis expressam posuisset: illic vero hunc hominem non epitomatoris partes agere sed interpolatoris demonstrabo.
8.
mvp-aristotle-comment-108
Ritter, cap. 15 § 8
quarta lege in moribus fingendis observanda absoluta et contrariis exemplis illustrata, iam ad mores revertitur, ut nonnulla quae partim ex primo praecepto partim ex fine tragoediae proposito consequuntur adiungeret.
οὕτω καὶ τὸν ποιητήν - ᾿Αγάθων καὶ Ὅμηρος:tragicus poeta quamquam iracundos et socordes et aliis morum vitiis infectos describit, hos tamen meliores ostendere (h. e.
ἐπιεικεῖς ποιεῖν) debet quam vulgo esse solent, qualem Achillem alioquin iracundum finxit Agatho in Telepho tragoedia et Homerus in postrema Iliadis rhapsodia. hanc explicationem sumpsi non ex fallaci editionum scriptura sed ex codicum lectione glossematis repurgata. codices enim tantum non omnes. (AcBcNa et Momnes et P, alii) haec exhibent :
τὰ τοιαῦτα ἔχοντας ἐπὶ τῶν ἠθῶν τοιούτους ὄντας ἐπιεικεῖς ποιεῖν παράδειγμα σκληρότητος,
οἷον κτλ., quae sana sunt et dilucida, si duo interpretamenta avelluntur. nam
τοιούτους ὄντας est explicatio verborum
τὰ τοιαῦτα ἔχοντας ἐπὶ τῶν ἠθῶν, itemque
παράδειγμα σκληρότητος nota est marginalis, ab eo adscripta qui Achillis nomine excitatus hunc fuisse durum virum et obstinatum lectores admonere voluit. Agathonis Telephum ab Athenaeo X.. p. 454 D. commemoratum respici acute coniecit Tyrwhittus. Homerus Achillem Priamo mitem ac plane
ἐπιεικῆ in postremo Iliadis libro descripsit. verisimile est eundem Achillem multis Telephi precibus fatigatum sub exitum tragoediae illius ab Agathone evulgatae mitem et placidum prodisse. vulgo. codicibus invitis Aldum auctorem secuti legunt:
τὰ τοιαῦτα ἔχοντας ἐπὶ τῶν ἠθῶν,
ἐπιεικείας ποιεῖν παράδειγμα,
ἢ σκληρότητος δεῖ,
οἷον ατλ. sed. vide quam incerto fundamento haec nitantur. particulam
ἢ et verbum
δεῖ nulli codici inest,
ἐπιεικείας ex uno Leidensi affertur. alii suspectum illud
ἢ pro aut alii pro potius quam accipiunt, sed illi sententiam hanc non aptam procudunt, quasi duritiae exemplar tragoediae praecipue conveniat, hi Aristoteli loquendi genus ei incognitum offerunt: quamvis enim interdum ante
ἢ notio potius a Graecis suppleatur, eiusmodi tamen loci ita conformati sunt, ut omnis significationis dubitatio exclusa sit. 1) Verba
τοιούτους ὄντας quamquam ex Mediceis non afferuntur, inesse tamen admodum verisimile est. etiam Victorius illa invenit in "calamo exaratis libris,16.
9.
mvp-aristotle-comment-109
Ritter, cap. 15 § 9
καὶ πρὸς τούτοις τὰς παρὰ τὰς ἐξ ἀνάγ κης ἀκολουθούσας αἰσθήσεις τῇ ποιητικῇ: h. e. et insuper eas perceptiones quae praeter necessarias poesin comitantur. an mores boni sint aptique sibique constent, an cum ipsa factorum serie conveniant necne, id ex ipsa poesi necessario percipitur. sed poesin etiam saltatio et musica comitari possunt, quod si fit, in his quoque artibus
τὸ ἠθικὸν probe observandum est. nomen
αἴσθησις similiter positum c. 7, 6., praepositio
παρὰ (praeter) c. 14, 7.
τὰς παρὰ τὰς recepi ex AcNa et L: ceteri aut
τὰ παρὰ τὰς aut
τὰς παρὰ τὰ. quos statim dicit
λόγους ἐκδεδομένους, intelligere videtur librum a se
περὶ μουσικῆς et
περὶ παιδείας olim conscriptum, tum etiam illa quae in Politicis etiamnum de musica (VIII, 5 sqq.) exposita legimus.
1.
mvp-aristotle-comment-110
Ritter, cap. 16 § 1
Inseritur arguta disputatio de variis agnoscendi generibus miro acumine et futili sedulitate excogitatis. Vide, lector, quam praeclare qui hoc disputationis caput conscripsit illis respondeat quae ab Aristotele in fine c. 14. dicta sunt,
περὶ μὲν οὖν τῆς τῶν πραγμάτων συστάσεως,
καὶ ποίους τινὰς εἶναι δεῖ τοὺς μύθους,
εἴρηται ἱκανῶς. scilicet post interiectam de moribus explicationem (c. 15) continuo ad fabulam (
τὸν μύθον) revolvitur, varias agnitionis (quae implexae fabulae pars est) species describens, et ita describens, ut magis doctrinae copiam quam aliquam iudicandi facultatem prodat. haec inconstantia et ordinis perturbatio, magis autem mira illa lectionis ostentatio et insignis iudicii perversitas Aristotele prorsus indigna est et ab eius disputandi more planissime abhorret. nec vero in hac quaestione negligendum videtur quod iam undecimo capite non modo quid sit agnitio expositum est, sed etiam agnoscendi species breviter dextreque enumeratae sunt, ut qui illum locum diligenter consideratum huic contulerit, intelligat, totum caput ad quod pervenimus a viro quodam erudito sed subinepto ex illo ductum exemplisque improbe dilatatum esse. haec quae universe diximus in adnotationibus subsequentibus firmare conabimur.
εἴδη δὲ ἀναγνωρίσεως - ἡ διὰ τῶν σημείων: mire haec dicta sunt et sinistre coniuncta: nam ante quam prima agnoscendi species ipsa declaratur, eam arti plane repugnare sed tamen a plerisque imperite adhiberi cum fastu quodam et laetitia severus hic arbiter pronuntiat.
ἡ διὰ σημείων est agnitio quae fit signis, et signis quidem iis, quae adspiči oculis possunt, sive in agentium corporibus impressa sive eisdem appensa visuntur. conf. nota postrema ad §. 4. t
2.
mvp-aristotle-comment-111
Ritter, cap. 16 § 2
τούτων δὲ τὰ μὲν σύμφυτα - διὰ τῆς σκάφης: signorum duo genera enumerantur: alia enim corpori natura (
σύμφυτα) impressa sunt, alia post adquisita (
ἐπίκτητα). secundi generis duae sunt species, prout signa illa adquisita corpori aut inhaerescunt aut appensa sunt. vide putidam diligentiam.
λόγχην ἣν φοροῦσι Γηγενεῖς: verba haec esse tragici cuiusquam poetae recte collegit Hermannus, primum ob casum nominis a verbo
φοροῦσι aptum, quamquam ei argumento in hoc scriptore non multum tribuendum videtur, tum ob articulum nomini
Γηγενεῖς non additum, denique ob hoc ipsum nomen nove pro
Σπαρτοῖς positum.
Γηγενεῖς h. 1. sunt terrigenae illi Thebani sive Sparti, quibus hastae insigne corpori a natura impressum fama dedit. conf. Plutarchus de sera numinis vindicta p. 563 A (vel tom. III. p. I. pag. 268. apud Wyttenb.), Dionis Chrysostom. Orat. IV. p. 62 (vel ap. Reisk. tom I. p. 149), Iuliani orat. II. p. 81 C. ed. Spanhem.
φοροῦσι dictum est, non
φέρουσι, quia signum illud utpote innatum semper secum tulerunt.
ἢ ἀστέρας οἵους ἐν τῷ Θυέστῃ Καρκίνος: quid est hoc? num poeta Carcinus stellas in corpore suo gestavit? immo
ἐποίησε intelligendum est. audio: sed hoc
ἐποίησε unde sumemus? nihil adest, nihil unde nobissponte se offerat. est igitur vitium orationis homini negligenter scribenti relinquendum. grammaticum etiam inde agnoscimus, quod de re sibi satis nota tam obscure loquitur, ut verba eius nonnisi intelligere is possit, qui hanc rem strictim memoratam sive ex Carcini fabula sive aliunde edoctus est. intelligit enim insigne quoddam splendidum (eburneum), quod genti Pelopidarum (Pelopida Thyestes erat) in humeris impressum fuisse fama tulit. conf. Iulianus 1. c.
μηδὲ εἰς Πελοπίδας ἐξῆν ἐγγράφεσθαι τοὺς μὴ φέροντας ἐπὶ τῶν ὤμων τοῦ γένους τὰ γνωρίσματα. Themistii Orat. VI. p. 92. ed. Dindorf.
τοῖς Πελοπίδαις μὲν ἐξήρκει καὶ μόριόν τι περὶ τὸν ὦμον ἐξεικασμένον ἐλέφαντι (cf. Pindar. Olymp. I, 27)
πρὸς ἀπόδειξιν τῆς συγγενείας. vid. quae idem tradit in Orat. XXI. p. 304. Gregorius Nanzianzenus Epist. CXXXIX, 3.
Σπαρτιάτας ἡ λόγχη γνωρίζει,
ὦμος τοὺς Πελοπίδας, hanc famam Carcinus in Thyesta suo ita videtur exornasse, ut splendidam illam Pelopidarum in humeris particulam stellam esse fingeret vel metaphora usus eo nomine designaret. de Carcino diligenter expositum est a Meinekio in Comment. miscell. fasc. I. p. 23 sqq.
τὰ δὲ ἐκτός,
τὰ περιδέραια,
καὶ οἷον ἐν τῇ Τυροῖ διὰ τῆς σκάφης: etiam haec mire coniuncta sunt. cum dixisset nonnulla signa corpori non inhaerescere sed extra esse, non pergit
οἷον περιδέραια, sed secure adiungit
τὰ περιδέραια, ac tum demum etiam tardius sequuntur
καὶ οἷον ἐν τῇ Τυροῖ διὰ τῆς σκάφης. hanc
σκάφην ne intelligas veram cymbam qua gemini Tyrus a Neptuno compressae filii expositi sunt, sed crepundia sive monumenta in scaphae speciem conformata puerisque appensa. sermo enim est de indiciis quae quis gestare solet, et quibus quis ille sit agnoscitur. Tyrus nomine tragoediam Sophocles conscripsit, unde fragmenta nonnulla exstant. hanc ab interpolatore respici vix dubium videtur, sed vide mihi quantopere turbaverit in exemplis congerendis. primum enim attulit versus particulam nomine auctoris omisso, deinde meminit ignobilis tragici Thyesten, denique tragoediam Sophocliam laudavit suppresso nomine poetae.
3.
mvp-aristotle-comment-112
Ritter, cap. 16 § 3
ἔστι δὲ καὶ τούτοις - ἐν τοῖς Νίπτροις,
βελτίους: haec non malam sententiam continent, quae si alio loco legeretur pro Aristotelia haberi fortasse posset, sed tamen duo insunt quae alienam manum prodant. Ulixes a nutrice Euryclea inter lavandum inopinato ex cicatrice agnoscitur. vid. Odyss. T. 386 sqq. hanc agnitionem cum mox dicit fieri
ἐκ περιπετείας, aliam ac multum distantem significationem huic nomini dedit quam verus Aristoteles c. 10 et 11. -
καὶ ἄλλως ὑπὸ τῶν συβοτῶν: ab Eumaco et Philoetio Ulixes agnoscitur, cum ut fidem faceret (
πίστεως ἕνεκα) cicatricem illam ipse monstrasset. vid. Odyss. Ф. 217 sqq. sed illi qui agnoscebant num
συβόται erant ? immo Philoetius
βουκόλος erat, Eumaeus
συβότης. hoc alterum est vitium interpolatoris securitati tribuendum.
Νίπτρα undevicesima Odysseae rhapsodia vel potius pars eius libri vocabatur. vid. ad cap. 24, 9 extr. de perdita Sophoclis fabula, quae modo
Νίπτρα modo
Ὀδυσσεὺς ἀκανθύπληξ appellatur, hic nemo cogitaverit.
4.
mvp-aristotle-comment-113
Ritter, cap. 16 § 4
δεύτεραι δὲ - διὸ ἄτεχνοι: hoc manifestum alienae manus vestigium, quod secundum genus est eiusmodi, ut idem primum et tertium et quartum esse possit: poetae enim cuiusvis generis agnitiones excogitare licet. sed hic noster suo arbitrio pronuntiavit agnitiones a poeta inventas ob eam ipsam causam rudes esse, cum tamen et optimas et pessimas invenire possit. tarde succedit et hiante iunctura
διὸ ἄτεχνοι. quae sequuntur, merae nugae sunt.
οἷον Ὀρέστης ἐν τῇ Ἰφιγενείᾳ ἀνεγνώρισεν ὅτι Ὀρέστης: talem hunc locum exhibent AcBcNa et M omnes et GLPQ, quos cur deseramus iusta causa deest. technicus noster
ἀνεγνώρισεν ὅτι Ὀρέστης nove dixit pro manifestum fecit se esse Orestem, dativum
Ἰφιγενείᾳ lectori supplendum relinquens, sinistre sane utrumque, sed idem in admittendis ellipsibus omnem modum egredi solet. respexit Iphigeniae Euripideae Tauricensis v. 811-826. sed vide quomodo editores antiqui huic loco succurrere conati sint, siquidem legunt
οἷον Ὀρέστης ἐν τῇ Ἰφιγενείᾳ ἀνεγνώρισε
τὴν ἀδελφήν,
ἀναγνωρισθεὶς ὑπ᾽ ἐκείνης ὅτι 1)
Ὀρέστης, sed eo additamento nihil proficiunt novi interpolatores nisi ut veteri turpem errorem iniungant: nam apud Euripidem Orestes sororem non agnoscit postquam ipse ab ea iam agnitus est, sed prior sacerdotem illam sororem Iphigeniam esse intelligit ac tum demum sese illi agnoscendum praebet. lege v. 759-792 et 811-826.
ἐκείνη μὲν γὰρ διὰ τῆς ἐπιστολῆς,
ἐκεῖνος δὲ αὐτὸς λέγει ἃ βούλεται ὁ ποιητής,
ἀλλ' οὐχ ὁ μῦθος: haec scriptura est codicum AcBeNa et M omnium et GLPQ, cui haec subiecta est sententia, Iphigeniam per epistolam sese notam Oresti fecisse (verbum
ἀνεγνώρισε novo significatu praeditum ex prioribus assumendum est), Orestem vero ipsum protulisse (scilicet ut soror illum fratrem esse intelligeret) quae poeta suggesserit, non quae fabula sive fabulosa 2) historia. posteriorem agnoscendi modum tamquam ab arte alienum notat, priorem paulo post (§. 8) laudat. verum enim vero difficultatibus vix expediendis hunc locum implicuit quod Victorius in uno codice se dicit legisse, acceptum illud ab editoribus tantum non omnibus,
ἐκεῖνος δὲ διὰ σημείων.
ταῦτα οὖν αὐτὸς λέγει –
ὁ μῦθος. sed auctor hic noster
σημεῖα dixit signa quae ipsis agentium oculis aut corpori cuiusdam personae inhaerescentia aut extra corpus conspicua visuntur, nisi forte illum sibi omnino non constitisse statuere volumus. iam si illa, quae Orestes fratrem se esse probaturus sorori narrat de telis ab ipsa pertextis et in paterna domo asservatis,
σημεῖα dixis- 1) Nonnulli ex editoribus haec probantibus verba
ὅτι Ὀρέστης expungunt, sed hi eodem in loco quaedam ex coniectura Italorum interpolatorum adsciscunt, quaedam a codicibus oblata negligunt. 2)
μύθον h. 1. non argumentum tragoediae sive
τῶν πραγμάτων σύστασιν intelligi sed fabulosam narrationem, tam ex illis
αἱ πεποιημέναι ὑπὸ τοῦ ποιητοῦ quam ex altero exemplo liquet.set, etiam haec agnitio
διὰ σημείων facta et in primo genere, non in secundo, reponenda esset. praeterea quae statim sequuntur huic lectioni plane adversa sunt.
διότι ἐγγὺς τῆς εἰρημένης ἁμαρτίας - ἐστίν·
ἐξῆν γὰρ ἂν ἔνια καὶ ἐνεγκεῖν: dictum vitium est si quis agentium signis conspicuis ad fidem faciendam utitur. prope ab hoc vitio abest Orestes ille Euripideus, cum quae res sorori suae in paternis aedibus cordi sint exponit: quippe poeta non multum aberat quin Orestem signis nonnullis conspicuum eaque Iphigeniae ostendentem inducere auderet. hoc est illud
ἐξῆν γὰρ ἂν ἔνια καὶ ἐνεγκεῖν (
τὸν Ὀρέστην). arguta disputatio et obscura.
καὶ ἐν τῷ Σοφοκλέους Τηρεῖ ἡ “
τῆς κερκίδος φωνή”: ecce alterum doctrinae specimen mire et
γραμματικῶς prolatum, non ut sententia illustretur, quod factum iam est, sed ut eruditionis thesauri magis etiam recluderentur. loci perobscuri sensum acute explanavit Tyrwhittus. nimirum
κερκίδος φωνή ex ipsa Sophoclis tragoedia sumpta tela illa est vel potius radius textorius, cuius ope Philomela Procnae sorori declaravit, quae ipsa ab eius coniuge Tereo indigna perpessa sit, cum lingua excisa loqui non posset. vid. Ovid. Metamorph. VI, 424 sqq. Hygin. Fab. 45. eandem telam Procna alloquitur in Attii Tereo apud Nonium p. 96, 27. o suavem linguae sonitum, o dulcitas conspirantis animae. vid. Welckeri Trilogia Aeschyl. p. 503. sed in co Tyrwhitto non assentior, quod ille
κερκίδα pro tela accipiendam esse dicit: immo
κερκὶς nunquam tela est, sed audaci metaphora usus Sophocles posuit
κερκίδος φωνὴν (der Spule Stimme), quoniam Philomela radii textorii auxilio in tela eas notas intexuit, quibus Procna infelicem sororis sortem agnovit. sed unde hic noster tam accurate rescivit hoc a Sophocle excogitatum, non autem fama traditum esse ? credo hunc technicum illam fabulam a Sophocle aliter et ingeniosius tractatam repperisse, quam in fabularum cyclo perscriptam vel ab aliis poetis conformatam eandem legisset. item iste non multo ante epistolam illam IphigeniaeEuripideae (759-792) fabulosae historiae (
τῷ μύθῳ) tribuit, sed illa quae Orestes v. 811-826. expromit, ab Euripide inventa esse dicit: quippe de epistola illa etiam aliunde aliquid inaudiverat, sed quae Orestes dum se sorori agnoscendum praebet profert, ea apud unum Euripidem invenerat. sed quid tandem in agnitione Sophoclia illa reprehendendum sit tamquam
ἄτεχνον, alii viderint: ego illud technico dicendum relinquo, quem ad dubitationem meam sic fere respondentem audio
ἔστι γὰρ πεποιημένη,
διὸ ἄτεχνος.
5.
mvp-aristotle-comment-114
Ritter, cap. 16 § 5
τρίτη δὲ ἡ διὰ μνήμης,
τῷ αἰσθέσθαι τι ἰδόντα: tertia est agnitio quae fit per recordationem, cum quis adspiciens vel audiens aliquid animo commovetur, eoque quis sit ab aliis agnoscitur. hoc postremum a nobis ex subiectis exemplis sumptum scriptor addere oblitus est: quippe homo succinctus statim ad exempla discurrit.
ὥσπερ ἡ ἐν Κυπρίοις τοῖς Δικαιογένους: Cypria Dicaeogenis tragoediam fuisse et Dicaeogenem tragicum aliunde non cognitum existimant, sed quis tragoediam eo nomine consignaverit, quo notissimum apud Graecos carmen epicum cyclo illo comprehensum, et insigni rerum ambitu, vocatum fuisse constat? hoc minus etiam probabile nobis videbitur, ubi viderimus continuo item ex epico poemate alterum exemplum proferri. interpolator igitur alterum quoddam carmen Cyprium nobis haud cognitum videtur respexisse. sic post Thebaida
τὴν κυκλικήν novam fecit Antimachus Platonis aevo, sic Telesis Methymnaeus post antiquam illam sive Titanoта- chiam sive Gigantomachiam novam edidit, si tabulae Borgianae vestigia recte secutus et interpretatus est Welckerus in Cyclo epico p. 32-37.
ἰδὼν γὰρ τὴν γραφὴν ἔκλαυσεν: in Cypris Dicaeogenis aliquis (Menelaus ut videtur) tabulam pictam adspiciens collacrimavit et sic ceteris quis esset prodidit. sed rursus vide grammaticum negligenter et obscure loquentem. quis sit ille
ἰδὼν reticet, item silentio premit et ubi lacrimas ille fuderit et qui cum agnoverint.
καὶ ἡ ἐν ᾿Αλκίνου ἀπολόγῳ:
᾿Αλκίνου ἀπόλογον Gracci Odysseae libros 9-12 vocarunt, quia Ulixis narrationem (
ἀπόλογον) Alcinoi gratia susceptam continent. conf. Platonis Civit. X. p. 614 B. Aristotel. Rhetor. III, 16. p. 1417 a 14. sed quem interpolator significavit locum, Odyss.
Θ. 521 sqq., is non inest in illa narratione, sed ea sequente libro demum inchoatur.
ὅθεν ἀνεγνωρίσθησαν: Ulixes dum canentem Demodocum audiens lacrimas fundit, id Alcinoum impellit, ut Ulixem quis sit percontetur, cui morem gerens libro sequente patriam et nomen professus casus suos narrat.
ἀναγνώρισις quam vulgo intelligimus haec dici vix potest, sed haec saltem difficultas evanescit, si
ἀνεγνωρίσθησαν intellectu illo huic homini proprio dictum accipiamus, noti facti sunt, non agniti sunt. verus Aristoteles certe scripturus fuisset
ἐν τῷ ᾿Αλκίνου απολόγῳ. cf. Rhetor. 1. c. non minus negligenter personatus homo statim scribit
ἐν Χοηφόροις, non
ἐν ταῖς Χοηφόροις. vid. Commentar. in C. 23, 4.
6.
mvp-aristotle-comment-115
Ritter, cap. 16 § 6
τετάρτη δὲ ἡ ἐκ συλλογισμοῦ,
οἷον ἐν Χοηφόροις - Ὀρέστης: etiam hic vir ille litteratissimus nimium ad exempla festinat. vix nomen quartae agnitionis positum est, cum iam exemplum succedit, quo allato demum explicatur cur
ἐκ συλλογισμοῦ hoc agnitionis genus vocetur.
οὗτος ἄρα ἐλήλυθεν: non satis vere haec dicta esse intelliges ex Aeschyli Choephoris (hanc fabulam technicus dixit) v. 166-234. nam Electra cum cincinnum in tumulo patris invenisset et vestigia solo impressa suis similia vidisset, Orestem advenisse inde coniecit, sed nihilo minus satis incerta demum ex indiciis, quae Orestes fidei causa cum illa communicavit, fratrem cognovit.
καὶ ἡ Πολυείδου - συμβαίνει θύεσθαι: haec hausit ex c. 17, 3. strenue pergit exempla exemplis cumulare. considera haec:
καὶ ἐν τῷ Σοφοκλέους Τηρεῖ. –
καὶ ἡ ἐν ᾿Αλκίνου ἀπολόγῳ. –
καὶ ἡ Πολυείδου τοῦ σοφιστοῦ περὶ τῆς Ἰφιγενείας. –
καὶ ἡ ἐν τῷ τοῦ Θεοδέκτου Τυδεῖ.
καὶ ἡ ἐν τοῖς Φινείδαις. de Polyido sophista dicemus ad c. 17, 3.
καὶ ἡ ἐν τῷ Θεοδέκτου Τυδεῖ κτλ. TydeumTheodectis tragici poetae aliunde haud cognitum habemus, neque ex his verbis de argumento eius fabulae certi quidquam colligi potest, ne id quidem, ipsum Tydeum fuisse de quo h. 1. referuntur illa,
ἐλθὼν ὡς εὑρήσων υἱὸν αὐτὸς ἀπόλλυται. nam in ellipsibus hic noster temere audet.
καὶ ἡ ἐν τοῖς Φινείδαις:
Φινεῖδαι gemini sunt Phinei filii a matre oculorum lumine orbati. vid. Sophocl. Antig. v. 966-987. sed quae continuo ex fabula Phinidarum afferuntur de mulieribus fatum suum ex loco ubi olim expositae erant agnoscentibus prorsus obscura sunt. filiae Phinei nusquam commemorantur; itaque incertum relinquitur quae fuerint illae quae sortem sibi destinatam ex loco agnoscunt. Phineum et Aeschylus scripit et Sophocles, sed haec ex alterutra desumpta esse nihil est quod probet. neque verisimile videtur Timothei dithyrambum
Φινείδας inscriptum et a Suida memoratum respici. exstitisse tragoediam hoc nomine dubitari nequit, cum Attii Phinidae octies a Nonio Marcello et semel a Festo s. v. tonsillam memorentur. vid. Bothii Poetae scen. Latin. vol. V. p. 235 ed. a. 1834. ellipsis illa
ἰδοῦσαι γὰρ (quae?) plane intolerabilis est, sed huius hominis stilo satis convenit. chorum virginibus vel mulieribus constantem videtur significare.
7.
mvp-aristotle-comment-116
Ritter, cap. 16 § 7
ἔστι δέ τις καὶ συνθετὴ ἐκ παραλογι σμοῦ τοῦ θεάτρου: agnitionem compositam dicere videtur ubi spectatores (
τὸ θέατρον) sperant fore ut aliquis agnoscatur is quem esse ipsi falso ratiocinati sunt, sed paulo post alium illum esse atque opinati sunt intelligunt. haec agnitio ita composita est, ut spectatores in agnoscenda persona quadam primo errent, mox eadem quae sit cognoscant. hoc videtur accidisse in Ulixe mendace nuntio, fabula nobis haud cognita. personatus quidam Ulixes se Ulixem esse probare voluit; spectatores verum esse Ulixem credentes exspectabant illum se pro Ulixe per arcum, quem sibi notum esse iactabat, probaturum esse, sed neque probavit, et alium quendam esse innotuit. sed haec omnia in coniectura versantur: nam ut certi nihil pronuntiari possit, scriptoris negligentiaprospexit. -
τὸ μὲν γὰρ τόξον ἔφη : quis dixit? personatus Ulixes: sane, sed nota quam parcus sit hic homo in subiectis definiendis. statim
τὸ δέ AcBc et M XIV 16 21 et GLPQ,
τῷ δὲ Na et (
τῷ δὲ)
Μ 14.
τὸ δέ est theatrum; verba
ὡς δι' ἐκείνου ἀναγνωριοῦντος de Telemacho falsum Ulixem percontante dicta accipio. editores Aldo auctore
ὁ δὲ legunt, sed ea coniectura nihil expeditur: iam enim quis sit o
δé nescimus, neque cur theatri mentio facta sit liquet, et genitivus ille absolutus magis etiam offendit. ubi res tam incerta est, a coniecturis abstinere praestat, ceterum statim
ἐποιήσατο exspectamus, non
ἐποίησε. itaque etiam hoc sciri certo nequit, an veteres editores corruptam codicum scripturam
ποιῆσαι vere correxerint. certe ex
ποιῆσαι non magis facile
ἐποιήσατο fiat quam
ἐποίησε.
8.
mvp-aristotle-comment-117
Ritter, cap. 16 § 8
πασῶν δὲ βελτίστη ἐπιθεῖναι γράμματα: haec hausta sunt et inepte repetita ex c. 11. post
οἷον ἐν τῷ Σοφοκλέους Οἰδίποδι cum succedat
καὶ τῇ Ἰφιγενείᾳ, unusquisque legentium haec verba sola respiciens Sophoclis Iphigeniam intelligere debet (ab eo tragoediam hoc nomine editam esse constat), sed si ad consequentia animum adverterit, non Sophoclis Iphigeniam (Aulidensem), sed Euripidis Tauricensem significari comperimus, quae negligentia eo magis vituperanda est, cum praeter Sophoclem etiam Aeschylus Iphigeniam (Aulidensem) scripserit, et Tauricensem Iphigeniam praeter Euripidem etiam Polyidus sophista docuerit. Sed iam haec omnia et obscure et hiulco sermone et negligenter scripta esse, id satis, credo, constabit, quae qui Aristoteli tribuit, summi viri laudibus et ingenio insignem iniuriam fecerit.17. §. 1. 203 :
1.
mvp-aristotle-comment-118
Ritter, cap. 17 § 1
Qui tragoediam facere adgreditur, rem ad scribendum delectam ante oculos suos explicare et habitum personarum agentium corpore suo exprimere debet. in co negotio multum se iuvari sentiet, si primum generatim fabulam delineaverit, tum nominibus impositis eam amplificaverit episodiisque distinxerit. Praecepta a poeta tragico in argumentis constituendis et in moribus exprimendis observanda postquam exposuit, addit nonnulla unde idem ille condiscat, qua cautione et quibus exercitationibus adhibitis eo pervenire possit, ut argumenta moresque apte conformata exhibeat. eadem haec disputatio sub finem c. 18. continuatur: initium enim ab aliena manu sinistre additum est. ceterum quae utroque capite explicantur, exceptis illis ab interpolatore admixtis, ex disputatione ampliore et luculenta in breviorem a technico contracta videntur esse.
δεῖ δὲ τοὺς μύθους- σχήμασι συναπεργαζόμενον: duas res philosophus ei qui tragoediam scripturus est commendat, ut in ipsis rebus a se pertractandis versetur, ut porro personarum agentium vultus et gestus suo corpore inter scribendum exprimat. ad
δεῖ συνιστάναι intellectu supplere debemus
τὸν συνίσταντα, h. e. tragicum poetam.
τοὺς μύθους intellige fabulas a fama suppeditatas, non argumenta tragoediarum in universum. conf. adnotatio ad §. 3.
ὅτι μάλιστα πρὸ τῶν ὀμμάτων τιθέμε vov: poeta inter ipsas res versari easque sibi ob oculos ponere debet. in hoc praeceptum quomodo peccari possit, exemplo illo statim ex Carcini Amphiarao allato in parenthesi docetur, quo facto alterum illud praeceptum,
ὅσα δὲ δυνατόν,
καὶ τοῖς σχήμασι συναπεργαζόμενον, subsequitur. aliud est
πρὸ ὀμμάτων λέγειν (anschaulich reden) vel
ποιεῖν deeo qui dicit vel scribit, quode explicatum est in Rhetoricis III, 11.
ὁ γὰρ ᾿Αμφιάραος - ἐξέπεσε : festive sibi respondent haec,
Αμφιάραος ἐξ ἱεροῦ ἀνῄει atque
ἐπὶ δὲ τῆς σκηνῆς ἐξέπεσε. scilicet Carcinus
ὁ τραγικός Amphiaraum ex templo redeuntem fecit, idemque hunc egressum spectatoribus non cognitum deinceps ita respexit, ut tragoedia obscura fieret ideoque non placeret. festivum in locutione illud est, quod
ἐξέπεσε, verbum de fabulis exactis dici solitum, ad ipsam Amphiarai personam transfertur, quodque qui de templo egressus erat, in scena non stetisse dicitur. de illo verbi
ἐκπίπτειν significatu dixit Hemsterhusius ad Luciani Nigrin. c. 8. Dissenius ad Demosthenem de Corona p. 416. (p. 265 R.)
ὅσα δὲ δυνατόν,
καὶ τοῖς σχήμασι συναπερ - γαζόμενον: hoc alterum praeceptum mores potissimum spectat, prius argumenti conformationem. iam enim poetae suadet, ut is, dum sive iratos sive quocumque alio modo affectos pingit, ipse iratorum vel alio affectu commotorum vultus et gestus (
σχήματα) imitetur, quo verius eos affectus verbis exprimere possit ipse ira sive odio incitatus vel quomodocumque commotus. scilicet qui vultum irati vel aversantis vel aliter commoti adhibet, is sese sponte subirasci aversarique sentit, idemque in ceteris affectibus usu venire solet. vid. Aristotel. Physiognom. c. 4. p. 808 b 12.
ἡ τῆς ψυχῆς ἕξις ἀλλοιουμένη συναλλοιοῦ τοῦ σώματος μορφήν,
πάλιν τε ἡ τοῦ σώματος μορφὴ ἀλλοιουμένη συναλλοιοῖ τὴν τῆς ψυχῆς ἕξιν. conf. quae disputavit Wüllnerus meus in libro bonae frugis plenissimo Ueber die Verwandtschaft des Indogermanischen, Semitischen und Tibetanischen cet. §. 3. non bene interpretes nonnulli de figuris ab histrionibus in scena exprimendis cogitaverunt: eae enim histrionum sunt, non poetarum; neque hoc loco agendae tragoediae sed perscribendae praecepta traduntur. quod ad structuram verborum attinet, haec
ὅσα δὲ δυνατόν,
καὶ τοῖς σχήμασι συναπεργαζόμενον respondent superioribus illis
ὅτι μάλιστα πρὸ ὀμμάτων τιθέμενον. media igitur
παρενθετικῶς prolata sunt.
2.
mvp-aristotle-comment-119
Ritter, cap. 17 § 2
πιθανώτατοι γάρ - εἰσι : aptissimi enim ad persuadendum sunt (
πιθανώτατοί εἰσι), eiusdem quidem ingenii homines (
ἀπὸ τῆς αὐτῆς φύσεως), ii qui animo commoti sunt (
οἱ ἐν τοῖς πάθεσιν), h. e. qui proclives sunt ad animum commotum, si iidem ceteris ingenii dotibus non sunt inferiores, hi omnium optime imitari et proxime veritatem accedere possunt. quae subsequuntur,
καὶ χειμαίνει - ἀληθινώτατα, ad hoc pronuntiatum probandum accedunt. aliud est quod Horatius in Arte poetica v. 101-113. poetis suadet, scilicet ut ad quemcumque fortunae habitum verba et dictionem accommodare velint.
διὸ εὐφυοῦς ἡ ποιητική κτλ. quapropter solertis est poetica aut eius qui animo commotior. qui animo commotiores (
οἱ μανικοί') facile in quodlibet finguntur (
εὔπλαστοί εἰσιν), h. e. facile quemcumque animi habitum ipsi induere ideoque verbis exprimere possunt ¹). alteri autem qui solertis ingenii sunt (
οἱ εὐφνεῖς), inclinant ad anquirendum (
έξεταστικοί εἰσι), quid in quaque animi condicione et loqui et agere conveniat, ideoque facile quemcumque animi habitum verbis imitari possunt. plures editores
έκστατικοὶ ex uno Victorii codice receperunt, sed hoc ab ipso Victorio satis refutatum est in Comment. ad h. 1. pag. 167.
3.
mvp-aristotle-comment-120
Ritter, cap. 17 § 3
τούτους τε λόγους καὶ τοὺς πεποιημένους - ἐκτίθεσθαι καθόλου: per
τούτους λόγους tragoediarum argumenta eiusmodi denotantur, quae paulo ante
μύθοι appellati erant, argumenta ex fabulosa historia petita. illa cum statim ab initio capitis voce
μύθους designasset et, cum Amphiarai exemplum afferret, unice respexisset, ea per
τούτους λόγους indicare apte potuit. alius generis sunt
οἱ πεποιημένοι, argumenta quae a tragicis excogitata 1)
εὔπλαστος est qui facile in quemcumque animi motum flectitur et formatur, talis qualem Horatio magistro (Art. poet. v. 163) cereum flecti vocaveris.iam tragoedias scripturis in promptu exstant.
καὶ αὐτὸν ποιοῦντα: poeta in argumentis sive mythicis sive ab aliis excogitatis rite conformandis ipse inveniendi solertiam ostendere debet. conf. c. 14, 5.
αὐτὸν δὲ (
τὸν ποιητὴν)
εὑρίσκειν δεῖ,
καὶ τοῖς παραδεδομένοις χρῆσθαι καλῶς.
ἐκτίθε σθαι καθόλου: sibi explicare universe, h.e. das Allgemeine der Fabel vor seinem Geiste entfalten sive auseinander legen. respicit poetam tragoediam componere adgressurum. - sed de loci scriptura nonnulla monenda restant. lectionem a nobis exhibitam,
τούτους τε λόγους καὶ τοὺς π. praebent AcBcNa et LQ et plures Victorii codices; plebis vestigia eodem ducunt: nonnulli enim
καὶ ante
τοὺς omittunt, nonnulli
τοὺς ante
λόγους addunt (GP). quod paulo post sequitur,
παρατείνειν, acute a Victorio et vere excogitatum est. conf. c. 9, 10.
παρὰ τὴν δύναμιν παρατείναντες τὸν μῦθον,
κτλ. codicum discrepantias in notis criticis indicavimus.
χρόνῳ δ᾽ ὕστερον - ἐλθὼν δὲ καὶ ληφθεὶς: plura h. 1. turbata sunt sive insertis ab illo antiquo interpolatore admonitionibus plane inutilibus, sive (quod ego statuere malim) receptis in operis contextum adnotationibus marginalibus. primum igitur post
συνέβη additum est
ἐλθεῖν, cum verbum auxiliare infinitivo suo carere videretur: nam qui paulo post
ἐλθεῖν ἐκεῖ huc pertinere non vidit, is prius
ἐλθεῖν interposuit. ac sane interposita ista admonitione infinitivus
ἐλθεῖν ἐκεῖ ita divulsus est a verbo
συνέβη, ut alius requiri videretur; admonitionem dico
τὸ δὲ,
ὅτι ἀνεῖλεν ὁ θεός,
διὰ τίν αἰτίαν, quae ipsa ex duabus conflata est. una haec est
τὸ δὲ,
διὰ τίν' αἰτίαν (illud autem, ob quam causam frater sacerdotis itinere suscepto in illam terram venerit), altera haec
τὸ δὲ,
ὅτι ἀνεῖλεν ὁ θεός (Apollo Delphicus), quae causam ipsam exponit. utrumque colon non a diversis auctoribus profectum esse dico, sed ab uno imperite propositum et sinistre iunctum,
τὸ δὲ,
ὅτι ἀνεῖλεν ὁ θεός,
διὰ τίν' αἰτίαν, existimo. illud igitur, cur frater iter suscipiat et illuc veniat, h. e. Apollinis responsum Oresti datum, non pertinere adgeneralem argumenti conceptionem (
ἔξω τοῦ καθόλου esse) admonemur, quae admonitio utique supervacanea est. sed quae succedit altera observatio,
καὶ ἐφ᾽ ὅτι δὲ,
ἔξω τοῦ μύθου, ea magis etiam imperitum hominem arguit: scilicet itineris a fratre suscepti consilium non est extra fabulam (
έξω τοῦ μύθου), immo intra fabulam est, sed est extra id quod generale (
ἔξω τοῦ καθόλου). itaque
τὸν μῦθον et
τὸ καθόλου imperite commiscuit. nihil eiusmodi ineptiarum subsequenti summario Odysseae admixtum est.
ἀνεγνώρισεν - ἔδει τυθῆναι:
ἀνεγνώρισεν, cum dedit, unam Euripidis Iphigeniam respexit: in ea enim Orestes prior sororem agnoscit. contra res accidit in fabula Polyidi. is enim quo magis spectantium animos arrigeret, Orestem captum usque ad aram adduci ibique illum hoc exclamare fecit, sibi iam eandem sortem obtingere quae prius sorori; qua voce Iphigenia excitata fratrem agnovit. illa
κατὰ τὸ εἰκὸς εἰπὼν - ἔδει τυθῆναι ad unum Polyidum pertinent.
εἰπὼν breviter dictum est pro
εἰπεῖν (
τὸν Ὀρέστην)
ποιήσας. – Polyidum sophistam aliunde non cognovimus, nisi idem est ille quem nobilem dithyrambicum Olymp. 95, 3. floruisse tradit Diodorus XIV. c. 46 extr.
ἤκμασαν δὲ κατὰ τοῦτον ἐνιαυτὸν οἱ ἐπισημότατοι διθυραμβοποιοί,
Φιλόξενος Κυθήριος,
Τιμόθεος Μιλήσιος,
Τελέστης Σελινούντιος,
Πολύειδος ὃς καὶ ζωγραφικῆς καὶ μουσικῆς εἶχεν ἐμπειρίαν.
4.
mvp-aristotle-comment-121
Ritter, cap. 17 § 4
ἤδη ὑποθέντα τὰ ὀνόματα ἐπεισοδιοῦν: dum nomina poeta subiicit, quod in genere est ad singularia transfert; haec nomina, sive actionem primariis personis assignatam, episodiis dilatare debet iis quae per commune aliquod vinculum cum generali argumento connectuntur. huius praecepti exempla petuntur ex fabula Euripidis modo commemorata.
ἡ μανία δι' ἧς ἐλήφθη (
ὁ Ὀρέστης) describitur in Iphigen. Tauricens. v. 260-339., eiusdem
σωτηρία διὰ τῆς καθάρσεως ν. 1158 sqq.
5.
mvp-aristotle-comment-122
Ritter, cap. 17 § 5
τῆς γὰρ Ὀδυσσείας μακρὸς ὁ λόγος ἐστίν: succinctum loquendi genus hunc locum subobscurum fecit. nam ubi dixit, epopoeiam episodiis extendi, moneresimul debuit, ipsum argumentum (
τὸν λόγον) epopoeiae late patere, ideoque et multis et maioribus episodiis locum concedere, sed ille hanc sententiam continuo per Odysseae exemplum illustrare maluit, qua in re manum excerpentis technici (is exemplis plurimum tribuit) deprehendere mihi videor. Odysseae argumentum quamvis paucis verbis a philosopho comprehensum, si Iphigeniae comparatur, magnum vocari potest. codex Na et M 14
μικρὸς pro
μακρὸς offerunt, quod plurimis editoribus placuit. -
καὶ παραφυλαττο μένου ὑπὸ τοῦ Ποσειδῶνος: Neptunus Ulixem maligne observabat ut eius reditum averteret. vid. Odyss. A. 74 sqq. pro
ὑπὸ τοῦ Ποσειδῶνος rectius dedisset
ὑπὸ θεοῦ τινος : nomina enim
τῷ καθόλου repugnant.
τοὺς δ᾽ ἐχθροὺς διέφθειρεν: G. Guil. Nitzschius in libro de Aristotele contra Wolfianos p. 69. (iam de Historia Homeri Meletem. II. p. 57) scribit: "incolumitas illa victoris non ipsâ modo victoria continetur, sed oportuit eum etiam ab ultione omni tutum esse. quapropter dubium non est, quin ultima quoque, quibus pax cum Itacensibus composita narratur, isto
αὐτὸς ἐσώθη comprehenderit Aristoteles." cave credas viro sagacissimo. nam nonnisi generale argumentum Odysseae h. 1. propositum est: sed pax illa cum procorum affinibus composita (2. 412-547)
ἐπεισόδιον est, et quidem
οἰκεῖον ἐπεισόδιον. Praecepta sua tragoedias scripturis destinata nondum proposuit omnia, sed restat unum gravissimum illud, ne fabularum complexus (
ἐποποιικὸν sive
πολύμυθον σύστημα) in tragoedia pertractetur, cui opportune adiungitur altera admonitio, ne quis chorum aliena intercinentem inducere velit. verum enim vero rerum alienarum explicatione huc illata (c. 18, 1-3), duo illa praecepta demum c. 18, 4-7 posita legimus, sed de his statim videbimus.
1.
mvp-aristotle-comment-123
Ritter, cap. 18 § 1
Partes tragoediae sunt convinctio et solutio; eiusdem species quattuor, una implexa, alia pathetica, alia moralis, quarta qualis Prometheus cet. ut tragici argumenti unitas conservetur, cavere decet complexum fabularum, neque choro tribuere licet nisi quae proposito conducant et apte cohaereant. -3.
ἔστι δὲ πάσης τραγῳδίας - δεῖ δὲ ἄμφω ἀεὶ κροτεῖσθαι: primum signum ac magnum quo haec ab Aristotelis explicatione segreganda esse colligo hoc est, quod quae in capitis 17. fine et inde a c. 18, 4. docentur his illatis mire divelluntur. nam extremo c. 17. cum expositum esset propter diversam argumenti condicionem poesin dramaticam brevibus episodiis distingui, epicam longioribus dilatari, iam consentaneum est ut tragoediarum scriptori commendetur, ne materiam epopoeiae aptam in tragoedia pertractare velit. id vero ipsum monetur demum c. 18, 4. quo facto praecipitur, ne chori cantica a fabulae argumento aliena sint, ac tum totum illud disputationis caput (c. 17 et 18, 4-7), in quo tragoedias scripturum respexit et praeceptis instruxit Aristoteles, finitur. num forte hisce illa c. 18, 1-3. apte inseri possunt? non possunt: quippe non solum aliena sunt, sed etiam futilia. nam quaedam inania de iis tragoediae partibus explicantur quas technici
δέσιν et
λύσιν appellant, deinde quattuor tragoediarum genera non explicantur sed nude enumerantur et ridiculo praecepto clauduntur. alterum signum hoc est, quod simpliciter ponit cuiusque tragoediae partim esse implicationem partim solutionem, porro tragoediae quattuor species, et hoc ita narrat ut nullo suo iudicio utatur sed totus ab exemplis pendeat. hoc vero indignum est Aristotelis ingenio. accedunt alia de quibus ad singulos locos disputabimus. esse §. 1.
τὰ μὲν ἔξωθεν καὶ ἔνια τῶν ἔσωθεν
πολλάκις ἡ δέσις,
τὸ δὲ λοιπὸν ἡ λύσις: praeclara vero et loquendi et definiendi ratio.
τὰ ἔξωθεν sunt quae c. 15, 7.
ἔξω τῆς τραγῳδίας vocantur; sed quae extra sunt nullam fabulae partem efficiunt; immo implicatio fit per eam actionem quae in tragoedia ostenditur, et haec ipsa ut tota sit ab initio proficisci debet. illud
πολλάκις adeo significare videtur interdum
ἔνια τῶν ἔσωθεν ne requiri quidem ad instituendam implicationem.
τὸ δὲ λοιπὸν ἡ λύσις quod relicuum solutio. nomine
λοιπὸς Graeci et relicuus Latini utuntur, cum quae restant certa sunt et definita; alioqui Latini cetera et Graeci
τὰ δὲ ἄλλα ponunt. at vero hic plane deest eiusmodi definitio, quoniam nonnisi vage dictum est ad
δέσιν pertinere
ἔνια τῶν ἔσωθεν πολλάκις, unde consequitur interdum totam fabulam solutione contineri, quod absurdum est falsumque.
λέγω δὲ δέσιν - εἰς εὐτυχίαν: cum modo
λύσιν ita descripsisset interpolator, ut
λύσει maior tragoediae pars contineri videretur, continuo tamen
δέσιν longe maximam esse pronuntiavit:
λέγω δὲ δέσιν μὲν εἶναι τὴν ἀπ᾿ ἀρχῆς μέχρι τούτου τοῦ μέρους ὁ ἔσχατόν ἐστιν cet. vide, non quid sit
δέσις vel quo modo instituatur exposuit, sed digitis pro norma usus quousque pertineat indicavit; eadem ratione
λύσιν statim definire voluit.
ἐξ οὗ μεταβαίνει εἰς εὐτυχίαν: quid est hoc? nihil est nisi vitium manifestum. qui haec scripsit tragoedias cogitavit, qualis est Sophoclis Philocteta, Euripidis Iphigenia utraque, etiam Medea eiusdem: nam ea tragoedia quamvis satis luctuosa sit et atrox, ipsa tamen Medea feliciter evasit, quod igitur in paucis tragoediis factum sciebat, id temere ad omnes transtulit. quapropter non bene fecerunt qui verborum contextu immutato hoc vitium tollere aut obscurare conati sunt. alii enim
ἀτυχίαν dederunt (Goulstonus), alii
εὐτυχίαν ἢ δυστυχίαν (Tyrwhittus), alii
δυστυχίαν ἢ εἰς εὐτυχίαν (Reizius), Graefenhanius denique persuasissimum sibi habet verbo
εὐτυχία breviter fortunae mutationes notatas esse.
λύσιν δὲ τὴν ἀπὸ τῆς ἀρχῆς τῆς μεταβάσεως
μέχρι τέλους: quemadmodum
ἀπὸ τῆς ἀρχῆς scripsit, ita
μέχρι τοῦ τέλους scribere debuit, quod ipsum paulo post subsequitur. non solum ex hac inconstantia agnoscas serioris aetatis scriptorem, sed etiam ex loquendi infantia quae perspicitur ex illis
μέχρι τούτου τοῦ μέρους,
μέχρι τέλους,
μέχρι τοῦ τέλους.
2.
mvp-aristotle-comment-124
Ritter, cap. 18 § 2
τραγῳδίας δὲ εἴδη εἰσὶ τέσσαρα·
τοσαῦτα γὰρ καὶ τὰ μέρη ἐλέχθη: tragoediae partes non quattuor a vero Aristotele descriptae sunt, sed sex, in quibus explicandis ille versatur inde a c. 6. usque ad c. 22., si quae ab interpolatore sinistre interposita sunt subtrahamus. personatus Aristoteles sane c. 12. quattuor tragoediae partes descripsit, unius quantitatis habita ratione, easque idem hoc loco respexit. monemus, ut lector utrumque locum diligenter collatum expendat, et observet quomodo interpolator sibimet nihil confisus totus ab exemplis pendeat, atque in iis ipsis digerendis ulna et digitis magis quam prudenti iudicio utatur. ne hoc quidem silentio praetereundum videtur, mire haec inferri,
τοσαῦτα γὰρ καὶ τὰ μέρη ἐλέχθη.
ἡ μὲν πεπλεγμένη,
ἧς τὸ ὅλον ἐστὶ περιπέ - τεια καὶ ἀναγνώρισις: tragoediam implicatam totam contineri peripetia et agnitione falsum est: immo peripetia et agnitio non magnam fabulae particulam efficiunt. ne opus quidem est, ut in quavis fabula implicata peripetia sit et agnitio, sed alterutra sufficit. male igitur interpolator c. 10. intellexit, quamquam inde haec sua sumpsit.
ἡ δὲ παθητική,
οἷον οἵ τε Αἴαντες καὶ οἱ Ιξίονες: hoc age, lector benivole. nimirum interpolatori haeret aqua, cum nihil ab ipso Aristotele de fabulis patheticis (motoriis) dictum invenisset. desperans igitur se ipsum definire posse quales sint, ad exempla quasi in portum confugit. si vulgarem illam
πάθους definitionem a falso auctore c. 11, 6. propositam (
πάθος δ' ἐστὶ πρᾶξις φθαρτικὴ ἤ ὀδυνηρά κτλ.) comparaverimus, facile intelligemus
παθητικὴν fabulam non dici eam quam nos vulgo intelligimus, h. e. perturbationum descriptione conspicuam, sed eam in qua quiscoram spectatoribus sese occidit aut occiditur, sese vulnerat vel vexat aut vulneratur vel vexatur, ein mit Leiden (non mit Leidenschaften) erfülltes Stück. Aiaces igitur huic homini tragoediae sunt
παθητικαί, quoniam Aiax Telamonius ipse se interficit, Locrensis a Minerva occiditur; item Ixiones, quoniam Ixion rotae adstrictus graves labores perfert. Ixionis fabulam tres tragoediae Graecae principes scripserunt. fragmenta nonnulla inde conservata sunt. conf. Dindorf. Poet. scen. Gr. in
ἀποσπασματίοις p. 8. 42. 95. comoedia
Ἰξίων Eubuli laudatur ab Athenaeo VIII. p. 347 D. Sophocles praeter Aiacem
μαστιγοφόρον vel Telamonium superstitem etiam Locrum (Oilei f.) composuit, cuius fragmenta vid. ap. Dindorf. p. 29.
ἡ δὲ ἠθική,
οἷον αἱ Φθιώτιδες καὶ ὁ Πηλεύς: pergit eodem tramite admodum plano ac facili ad incedendum. Phthiotidum Sophoclis fabulae pauca fragmenta lege apud Dindorf. p. 60. Peleum Sophocles et Euripides docuerunt. vid fragmenta apud Dindorf. p. 51. 106.
τὸ δὲ τέταρτον,
οἷον αἵ τε Φορκίδες καὶ Προ-·
μήθεὺς καὶ ὅσα ἐν ῞Αιδου: iam in aliud artum compulsus est nullius iudicii sterilisque ingenii scriptor, nimirum is quartam quandam tragoediarum speciem esse inaudivit, sed eam neque definitione illustrare neque nomine consignare potuit; itaque exempla nonnulla posuisse contentus est. Phorcides Aeschyli tragoedia erat, cuius fragmenta Dindorfius p. 19. dedit. de fabula cf. Apollodorus I, 2.6. p. 13. II, 4, 2. p. 137. et Heynii ad Apollodorum Observationes p. 118 sq. Welckerus in Trilogia Aeschylia p. 381 sqq. grammaticum
ἁπλῆν τραγῳδίαν significare voluisse statim videbimus: interim de loci scriptura dispiciamus. nam in voce o
ἷov scribenda multi codices aberrant. vid. not. crit. dubitari vix potest quin o
ἷov verum sit : nam
δης οἷον nihil est nisi librarii aberratio, quam cum alii non concoquerent neque tamen monstrum
δης repetere vellent, lacunam indicarunt. quod Victorius in uno codice invenit
τὸ δὲ τέταρτον ὁμαλὸν οἷον, interpositum
ὁμαλὸν recentiori cuidam correctori debetur, qui c.15, 4.
τέταρτον δὲ τὸ ὁμαλὸν huc traxit infelici coniectura ductus : nam
τὸ ὁμαλὸν morum (
τῶν ἠθῶν) est proprium, non tragoediae. nec vero
ὁμαλὸν pro
ἁπλοῦν dici Graece potest, ut Buhlius Victorium de
ὁμαλὸν non sine causa dubitantem reprehendens existimavit. qui locum capitis 24, 1. consideraverit,
ἁπλοῦν,
οἷον in ordinem redigere volet, sed exemplorum desiderium hunc hominem abripuit, ut nomen quarti generis ponere oblivisceretur.
3.
mvp-aristotle-comment-125
Ritter, cap. 18 § 3
μάλιστα μὲν οὖν ἅπαντα δεῖ πειρᾶσθαι ἔχειν,
εἰ δὲ μή,
τὰ μέγιστα καὶ πλεῖστα: divisionibus a se propositis duas adiungit admonitiones. earum prior spectat ad poetas tragoedias scripturos, altera lectoribus vel spectatoribus suadet, ut iuste leniterque de fabulis iudicare velint. itaque dum poetae commendat, ut is omnia habere (in tragoediis) conetur, sin minus, gravissima et plurima, ea admonitio ridicula est et inanis, ridicula propter nimiam benigni magistri facilitatem, inanis quod quae sint gravissima non explicatur. non minus mira, ne dicam inepta, est querela illa
ἄλλως τε καὶ ὡς νῦν συκοφαντοῦσι τοὺς ποιητάς, quasi tu dicas, zumal auch wie man jetzt hinter den armen Dichtern her ist. sed haec prodere mihi videntur disciplinae Peripateticae alumnum quendam ad Academicos (illi Platonis exemplo poetas in multis saepiusque iniuste et speciosius quam verius reprehendebant) maligne et invidiose respicientem.
δίκαιον δὲ καὶ κτλ. haec ad priorem illam divisionem, secundum quam tragoedia
δέσει et
λύσει continetur, spectant. moneo quam dure
τοῦτο δὲ - καὶ λύσις inferantur. iustum sermonis vinculum deest: membra singula mire adnectuntur:
δίκαιον δὲ τοῦτο δέ πολλοὶ δὲ δεῖ δὲ. quid denique volunt sibi
δεῖ δὲ ἄμφω ἀεὶ κροτεῖσθαι? hoc, bonam implicationem bonamque solutionem laudandam esse ? immo verba hanc offerunt sententiam, bonam implicationem et malam solutionem semper laudibus prosequendam esse. num
4.
mvp-aristotle-comment-126
Ritter, cap. 18 § 4
χρὴ δὲ - τραγῳδίαν: nunc demum revertimur ad verum Aristotelem. quam bene sequentia cum fine capitis 17. cohaereant, et unusquisque videt et a nobis paulo ante explicatum est. quod saepius dictum esse pronuntiat, respicit c. 5, 4. 7,5-7. 17,5. alii loci quibus idem monebatur fortasse interciderunt. epopoeiae unitas latioribus finibus circumscripta est, eaque cum multa episodia admittat, complexum mythorum proponere potest. itaque epicum carmen multis mythis (
πολύμυθον) distinctum apparet. trilogiae compositionem significari per
ἐποποιικὸν sive
πολύμυθον σύστημα existimavit Welckerus in Trilog. Aeschyl. p. 349. 444. 531. 601. et in Museo Rhenano philolog. V. p. 490. sed in verbis quae hic legimus nihil inest, unde illam sententiam probemus. nimirum hoc commendatur poetae tragico, ne mythicae materiae nimium uni tragoediae subiicere velit. conf. Commentar. in c. 7, 3. p. 145.
ἐκεῖ μὲν τὸ πρέπον μέγεθος: quae h. 1.
μέρη vocantur episodia sunt, quae quamvis ampla tamen propter epici carminis ambitum (
διὰ τὸ μῆκος) iustos fines non facile excedunt.
5.
mvp-aristotle-comment-127
Ritter, cap. 18 § 5
ὅσοι πέρσιν Ἰλίου ὅλην ἐποίησαν: qui eversionem Iliacae urbis totam tragoediae argumentum fecerunt. varia illa quae acciderunt, cum Ilium devastaretur, una tragoedia comprehendi salva lege dramaticae unitatis non possunt, quam ob causam eae fabulae displicuerunt quae id praestare conarentur. ceterum de certo tragoediae cuiusdam nomine (
Πέρσις Ἰλίου) ne cogitemus, vel collocatio verborum (
πέρσις Ἰλίου) impedit. carmen illud epicum Arctini et Leschis (v. ad c. 23, 4) non
πέρσις Ἰλίου, sed
Ἰλίου πέρσις 1) vocatur, eodemque modo tragoedia appellanda erit, si quidem unquam eo titulo tragoedia exstitit, vid. Commentar. ad c. 23, 4.
καὶ μὴ κατὰ μέρος [,
ὥσπερ Εὐριπίδης Νιόβην,
καὶ μὴ ὥσπερ Αἰσχύλος]: haec est constans co- 1) Conf. c. 23, 4. Pausan. X, 25 et 27. Proculi Chrestom. excerpta apud Gaisfordium ad Hephaest. p. 483., alii,dicum scriptura, unde qui discessere huius loci auctorem et doctiorem et prudentiorem fecerunt quam re vera fuit. Aristotelem non scripsisse verba uncis circumdata plura sunt quae ostendant. Euripidi fabula tribuitur quam non conscripsit; eadem ad devastationem Ilii a vero auctore memoratam nihil pertinet; Euripides laudatur quod fabulam Niobiam
κατά μέρος tractaverit, Aeschylus reprehenditur quod eadem solertia non usus sit. haec ego ne antiquo quidem interpolatori tribuo, quippe in ipso verborum contextu nimis absurda sunt, sed ex nota marginali nata esse puto. scilicet cum in extremo codicis antiqui versu collocata essent verba illa
καὶ μὴ κατὰ μέρος, aliquis in margine adscripsit
ὥσπερ Εὐριπίδης Νιόβην, intelligens
κατὰ μέρος ἐποίησε, illisque
καὶ μὴ ὥσπερ Αἰσχύλος adiectis significavit Aeschylum Niobae fabulam deterius in rem suam convertisse. iam, si pro Euripidis nomine interim Sophoclis admiserimus, quae in ipso operis contextu et sensu carent et disputationis ordinem turbant, ea hanc si minus veram at tolerabilem sententiam offerunt, Sophoclem (Euripidem) in Nioba sua fabulae Niobiae particulam, Aeschylum eandem totam (in trilogia) pertractandam sibi sumpsisse. sed nihilo minus Euripidem de loco per scribentis errorem benigne concesso non movendum esse censeo. qui coniecturis hanc difficultatem tollere conati sunt, operam me iudice perdiderunt. Valla convertit Hecubam, non Niobam, unde Tyrwhittus
Εκάβην sumpsit, sed ne Hecuba quidem ad Ilii eversionem pertinet, sed ad illa quae secuta sunt eversionem, ut omittam sic iniuste laudari fabulam illam pessimam et duplice argumento vitiosam, neque adesse quo referantur
καὶ μὴ ὥσπερ Αἰσχύλος. Aldus ex coniectura vel sua vel alius dedit
νιόβην ἢ μήδειαν, quibus loci difficultas magis etiam augetur. alii alia tentaverunt.
ἢ ἐκπίπτουσιν ἢ κακῶς ἀγωνίζονται: aut exiguntur aut male certant, h. e. aut fabulam peragere non possunt aut ita certant ut nonnisi secundo tertiove loco nominentur. conf. c. 17, 1.
ἐπεὶ καὶ ᾿Αγάθων ἐξέ - πεσεν ἐν τούτῳ μόνῳ: Agatho in tragoedia quadam ase edita (
Ἰλίου πέρσιν inscriptam fuisse neque hinc neque alio indicio constat) totam excidii urbis Troiae historiam videtur comprehendisse, verbi causa illa quae Priamo indigna acciderunt, quae Cassandra et Astyanax aliique perpessi sunt, quae Ulixes et Aiax et Agamemno perpatraverunt. ex verbis
ἐξέπεσεν ἐν τούτῳ μόνῳ ne colligas Agathonem vicisse in ceteris suis fabulis omnibus: quippe potuit in nonnullis
κακῶς ἀγωνίζεσθαι.
ἐν δὲ ταῖς περιπετείαις - ὧν βούλονται θαν - μαστῶς: si rerum conversiones (
αἱ περιπέτειαι) sunt eiusmodi ut simplicibus factis (
ἁπλοῖς πράγμασιν) eveniant, quod fit ubi necessario vel probabiliter accidunt, poetae tragici propositum suum optime consequuntur. intelligit igitur eas
περιπετείας quae
ἁπλοῖς πράγμασι, non
συστήματι πολυμύθῳ, continentur, atque haec ipsa
ἁπλᾶ πράγματα non
μύθῳ πεπλεγμένῳ sed
συστήματι πολυμύθῳ opposita cogitari debent. noli igitur confundere
ἁπλᾶ πράγματα cum
ἁπλῇ πράξει sive
ἁπλῷ μύθῳ (vide c. 10 et 11) neque statuere Aristotelem contra loqui c. 13, 2., ubi pronuntiat pulcherrimae tragoediae fabulam (
μύθον) implexam esse, non simplicem. -
τραγικὸν γὰρ τοῦτο καὶ φιλάνθρωπον : tragicum hoc est, quia eiusmodi facta timorem miserationemque movent. nam simplicia cum naturae convenienter fieri soleant, similia cuivis accidere possunt. inde timor in nobis et simul aliorum miseratio nascitur; sin minus, certe sensus humanus tangitur.
6.
mvp-aristotle-comment-128
Ritter, cap. 18 § 6
ἔστι δὲ τοῦτο - ἄδικος δὲ ἡττηθῇ: haec nonnisi ad
τὸ φιλάνθρωπον pertinent. si prudens idemque pravus decipiatur, et fortis idemque iniustus vincatur, is miserationem nostram excitare nequit, cum innocentia ei desit (vid. c. 13, 2), sed animum humanum eiusmodi casus tangere et movere solet.
ἔστι δὲ τοῦτο εἰκός - παρὰ τὸ εἰκός: ut prudens decipiatur et fortis superetur, non saepe quidem evenit, sed per sese non pugnat contra probabilitatem. hoc breviter videtur monere voluisse, ne quis eiusmodi res peccare in leges
ὥσπερ ᾿Αγά- ab ipso c. 9. praescriptas existimaret.
θων λέγει: Agathonis sententiam plenam posuit in Rhetoricis II, 24. p. 1402 a 10.
τάχ᾽ ἄν τις εἰκὸς αὐτὸ τοῦτ᾽ εἶναι λέγοι,
βροτοῖσι πολλὰ τυγχάνειν οὐκ εἰκότα. brevitatis causa h. 1. illam Agathonis sententiam suis verbis significasse contentus est.
7.
mvp-aristotle-comment-129
Ritter, cap. 18 § 7
καὶ τὸν χορὸν - παρά Σοφοκλεῖ: ut per tragoediam unum quoddam (
ἕν τι) et totum (
ὅλον) exprimatur, opus est ut chori cantica cum fabulae argumento cohaereant: alioquin unitas fabulae perit et cantica ista vana funduntur. qui chorum tamquam actoris partes sustinentem accipere iubetur, est is qui tragoediam scripturus est: hunc enim etiamnum Aristoteles respicit. quae chorus canit loquiturve, ea ex ipsa actione tragica ducta esse decet. praeclare Horatius in Arte poetica v. 193. actoris partes chorus officiumque virile defendat, neu quid medios intercinat actus, quod non proposito conducat et haereat apte. chorus Euripideus non raro officium suum deserit et intercinit quae a proposito aliena sunt. magis etiam in hoc praeceptum peccavit Agatho Euripidi aetate suppar, quo auctore
ἐμβόλιμα (exodia) in tragoediam recepta sunt, h. e. cantica ab argumento tragoediae aliena et pro arbitrio poetae inserta.
τὰ ἀδόμενα οὐ: codices
τὰ διδόμενα. vid. notae crit. qui
τὰ διδόμενα defendere et explicare tentarunt, ad inania et prava prolapsi videntur. quomodo
ἀδόμενα corrumpi potuerit in
διδόμενα comparanti AI
ΔOMENA et 1110- MENA liquet. negationem
οὐ praecedens vocalis absorpsit.
οἱ λοιποί sunt tragici Euripide posteriores quibus ad exodia facienda exemplum Agatho praeivit.
1.
mvp-aristotle-comment-130
Ritter, cap. 19 § 1
Διάνοια aptius in arte rhetorica quam in poetica pertractatur; neque de
λέξει quae exponi possunt, ad poeticam pertinent omnia. Explicata argumenti conformatione a poeta tragico instituenda (c. 7-11 et c. 13-14) et descripto morum habitu ab eodem in tragoediis observando (c. 15) et utraque disputatione praeceptis quibusdam tragoediarum scriptori destinatis conclusa (c. 17 et c. 18, 4-7), iam ad animi sensa (
διά- votar quam una voce sententiam appellare licet) a personis in scenam productis expromenda pervenit. quae cum dictione (
λέξει) proferantur, hanc tractandam sibi sumpsit, illa Rhetoricis reservanda putavit.
περὶ μὲν οὖν τῶν ἄλλων ἤδη εἴρηται: cetera quae dicit, sunt fabula, mores, spectaculum, melopoeia. de fabula quae disputata sunt sufficere videantur, de moribus quae docuit in epitomam contracta esse intelleximus: spectaculum vero et melopoeia nonnisi brevissime commemoravit c. 6, 4 et c. 18, 71). at vero spectaculum et melopoeiam accuratius ab Aristotele explicata non esse et nullis praeceptis a tragoediarum scriptore servandis instructa, vix est cur existimemus: immo c. 18, 7. cum chori tragici rite conformandi praeceptum paucis verbis proponit, ita disputat ut antegressa ampliore expositione niti videatur. quae igitur de
ὄψει et
μελοποιίą uberius explanata ab Aristotele erant, omisit, opinor, ille qui ex integra Aristotelis Poetica plura et egregia conservavit. nimirum inutilia illa videbantur poetis Alexandrinis (Alexandrinos dico omnes qui post Alexandri Magni aevum sive Alexandriae sive in aliis Grae- 1) Falsus Aristoteles etiam c. 6, 19. ad
ὄψιν et
μελοποιίαν revolvitur, sed nihil affert quae alicuius momenti videantur esse.cis urbibus artem tragicam factitabant), qui lectoribus magis quam spectatoribus scribebant, quique tragoedias edebant aut nullis aut paucis chori carminibus distinctas. -
λοιπὸν δὲ περὶ λέξεως ἢ διανοίας εἰπεῖν: postquam de quattuor illis partibus dictum est, iam restat de
διανοίᾳ vel
λέξει disputare, ut de omnibus sex partibus ante constitutis (c. 6, 4-7) explicatio absolvatur. vide mihi Aristotelem ipsum pronuntiare se ex illis sex tragoediae partibus adhuc quattuor disputatione amplexum esse, duabus etiamnum relicuis de quibus dicatur. inde iam novo documento apparet, et illa quae de alteris
κατὰ τὸ ποσὸν tragoediae partibus c. 12. posita sunt, et quae de quattuor formis tragoediarum c. 18, 2-3., quaeque de tragoediae
δέσει et
λύσει c. 18, 1. narrantur, quae omnia suis locis gravibus de causis pro suppositiciis declaravi, haec inquam ab Aristotele non scripta esse. –
περὶ λέξεως ἢ διανοίας scribit, cum absolutis quattuor partibus iam ex duabus relicuis alterutram explicandam eligere possit. statim monet quae de
διανοία dicenda sint, ea in Rhetoricis aptius explicari posse.
ἐν τοῖς περὶ ῥητορικῆς: quamquam quae de animi sensis dicenda sunt in Rhetoricorum tribus libris comprehensorum primo et secundo libro legimus, inde tamen non consequitur Poeticam post artem illam rhetoricam a philosopho emissam esse: immo in Rhetoricis quater provocat ad Poeticam iam editam. lege III, 1 et 2. ars dicendi cum pluribus ac diversis libris ab Aristotele tractata et tradita sit, hoc loco lectores non ad tres illos Rhetoricorum libros sed ad alios prius evulgatos ablegantur. de operibus Aristotelis rhetoricis disputavit Titze de Aristotelis operum serie et distinctione p. 34 sqq.
ἔστι δὲ κατὰ τὴν διάνοιαν ταῦτα,
ὅσα ὑπὸ τοῦ λόγου δεῖ παρασκευασθῆ - ναι: pertinent ad sententiam haec, quaecumque oratione parari debent, h. e. quae personae in scenam productae sentiunt verbisque pronuntiant. quod statim sequitur
τὸ λύειν, est obstantia sive ab adversariis dicta dissolvere.
2.
mvp-aristotle-comment-131
Ritter, cap. 19 § 2
καὶ ἔτι μέγεθος καὶ μικρότητα: nove acbreviter significavit rem exaggerare (
αὔξειν) et extenuare (
μειοῦν). conf. Rhetor. II, 26. p. 1403 a 20,
τὸ δ' αὔξειν καὶ μειοῦν ἐστὶν ἐνθυμήματα πρὸς τὸ δεῖξαι ὅτι μέγα ἢ μικρόν,
ὥσπερ καὶ ὅτι ἀγαθὸν ἢ κακὸν ἢ δίκαιον ἢ ἄδικον καὶ τῶν •
ἄλλων ὁτιοῦν. pro nominibus
μέγεθος et
μικρότητα exspectaverimus saltem
αὔξησιν et
μείωσιν. itaque haec insolentia, cuius alia quoque vestigia hoc capite comparent, epitomatori tribuenda videatur.
3.
mvp-aristotle-comment-132
Ritter, cap. 19 § 3
δῆλον δὲ ὅτι καὶ ἐν τοῖς πράγμασιν - δεῖ χρῆσθαι: etiam hoc rara brevitate positum est,
ἐν τοῖς πράγμασιν pro
ἐν τῇ συστάσει πραγμάτων τραγῳδίας sive
ἐν τῷ μύθῳ τραγῳδίας. in rebus argumento tragico conserendis haurire debet poeta ex isdem eloquendi formis sive locis communibus (
ἀπὸ τῶν αὐτῶν ἰδεῶν δεῖ χρῆσθαι) quos orator in elocutione oratoria adhibet.
πλὴν τοσοῦτον διαφέρει –
παρὰ τὸν λόγον γίγνεσθαι: haec est artis tragicae ab oratoria, quod ad sententiarum elocutionem attinet, differentia, quod in ipsa alia sine expositione (h. e. sine significatione verbis expressa,
ἄνευ διδασκαλίας), alia per orationem a dicente proferri debent et secundum orationem fieri. in tragoedia igitur alia, sive metuenda sive miseranda, ita fiunt ut nulla oratione promantur sed ex rebus quae aguntur sponte consequantur, alia rursus oratione provocantur et secundum orationem accidunt.
διδασκαλία h. 1. non est rerum in scenam introductio, nam si esset, ponendum erat
διδασκαλίᾳ vel
διὰ διδασκαλίας, non
ἄνευ διδασκαλίας: immo est expositio verbis enuntiata, ut sibi opponantur ea quae oratione non significantur et quae significantur.
παρὰ τὸν λόγον γίγνεσθαι: hoc fit, si res ita peraguntur ut in oratione personarum scenicarum significatum vel iussum vel suasum est.
παρὰ τὸν λόγον, iuxta orationem, est igitur sic ut dicentis oratio sive poposcit sive persuasit sive iussit.
τί γὰρ ἂν εἴη τοῦ λέγοντος ἔργον - διὰ τὸν λόγον: haec adiiciuntur ad illa
παρὰ τὸν λόγον γίγνεσθαι adprobanda. dicentis nullus in tragoediis usus esset, si eaquae dicit nihil valerent ad rerum consecutionem et eventum varie afficiendum. quae tragicam voluptatem afferunt (
τὰ ἡδέα), si ea etiam sine dictione apparerent, dicente non opus esset.
4.
mvp-aristotle-comment-133
Ritter, cap. 19 § 4
τὰ σχήματα τῆς λέξεως: potuit etiam scribere
τὰ πάθη τῆς λέξεως.
σχήματα non tam dictionis sunt quam dicentis vel oris eius qui dicit; sed ab ore transferuntur ad vocem et dictionem.
5.
mvp-aristotle-comment-134
Ritter, cap. 19 § 5
ὅτιεὔχεσθαι οἰόμενος ἐπιτάττει : etiam in his agnoscas epitomatorem Homeri nomen reticentem: Iliadis enim initium omnibus aeque ac sibi notum esse credidit, non serio sed ingenii ostentandi causa hunc imperativum a Protagora reprehensum esse (in eo libro cui nomen
Ὀρθοέ πεια) putaverim: aliter visum est Fr. A. Wolfio in Prolegomenis p. CLXVII. Homerum mire defendit scholiasta ad Il. pag. 1 b 20 ed. Bekker. conf. Eustath. p. 10. de illo Protagorae opere vid. Quintilian. III, 4, 10. Protagoram transeo, qui interrogandi respondendi mandandi precandi (quod
εὐχωλὴν dixit) solas partes putat. Diogenes IX, 84.
διεῖλέ τε τὸν λόγον πρῶτος εἰς τέτταρα,
εὐχωλὴν ἐρώτησιν ἀπόκρισιν ἐντολήν. istam Protagorae reprehensionem recoxit Zoilus. conf. Suid. s. v.
Ζώϊλος.
1.
mvp-aristotle-comment-135
Ritter, cap. 20 § 1
Partes sermonis enumerantur earumque definitiones proponuntur. Quae hoc capite traduntur Aristoteli abiudicanda putavi argumentis permotus, quae primum sub unum conspectum collecta afferre et deinde, cum singula explicabo, accuratius persequi in animo est. 1. quae hic docentur, ea pro sese sola posita sunt et nullo vinculo cum ceteris cohaerent. nihil ad definiendam dictionem poeticam inde sumi potest et nihil indesumptum videmus c. 22., ubi dictionis virtutes et vitia enumerantur. immo prima artis grammaticae rudimenta inepte propinantur, eaque a ceteris disiuncta, quasi sublimia haerent. ratio igitur et consilium deest, cur haec explicentur. 2. insunt quae Aristotelem non scripsisse testimoniis non contemnendis constat, quo pertinet §. 1 et 6 et 7. ut mox videbimus. 3. offendunt quae tribui prudenti viro nequeunt. sed priusquam de singulis dicam, unum etiam quod contra dici possit amovendum videtur. scilicet moneo, ne quis hisce Rhetoricorum locis sententiam meam convelli putet, III, 1 extr. III, 2. pag. 1404 b 5 et 28. et pag. 1405 a 5. nam primo loco Aristoteles nihil dicit nisi se disputasse de dictione poetica in opere de arte poetica conscripto, quod re vera factum est c. 21 et 22. quae pro Aristoteliis agnoscimus; secundo loco memorat nominum species a sese enumeratas esse in Poetica, idque factum est c. 21.; idem repetit tertio loco; quarto denique ad disputationem suam de metaphoris provocat in Poetica expromptam, quam legimus c. 21. itaque tantum abest, ut ex illis locis pro c. 20. praesidium petatur, ut ipsum silentium contra id adhiberi forsitan possit.
τῆς δὲ λέξεως κτλ. totius sermonis partes ab hoc magistro octo numerantur
στοιχεῖον,
συλλαβή,
σύνδεσμος,
ὄνομα,
ῥῆμα,
ἄρθον,
πτῶσις,
λόγος. secernendae sunt ex hac serie quae non tam partes sermonis quam elementa vocabulorum sunt littera et syllaba, secernenda est
πτῶσις, h. e. varia et nominum et verborum terminatio, secernenda est oratio sive pronuntiatum (
λόγος), quod ex sermonis partibus demum componitur. haec quamquam mire huc congesta quomodocumque defendantur. dicant omnem linguae materiam, qua opus sit ut oratio oriatur, comprehendere Aristoteli destinatum fuisse. si minus iusta est defensio (praesertim
πτῶσις vix in hunc modum defendi poterit), certe aliqua est. relicua sunt igitur
ὄνομα,
ῥῆμα,
σύνδεσμος,
ἄρθρον, nomen, verbum, coniunctio, articulus. nomina et verba primus distinxit Plato in Sophista p. 261 E. conf. Classen de Grammaticae Graecae primordiis p. 45 sqq. post Platonem Aristoteles... idem argumentum retractans tripartitam linguae divisionem instituit, cum praeter
ὄνομα et
ῥῆμα ceteram linguae materiam nomine
συνδέσμου complecteretur, ut testatur Dionysius Halicarn. de Compositione verb. c. 2. init.
ταῦτα δὲ καὶ Θεοδέκτης μὲν καὶ ᾿Αριστοτέλης καὶ οἱ κατ' ἐκείνους φιλοσοφήσαντες τοὺς χρόνους ἄχρι τριῶν προήγαγον,
ὀνόματα καὶ ῥήματα καὶ συνδέσμους πρῶτα μέρη τῆς λέξεως ποιοῦντες.
οἱ δὲ μετ' αὐτοὺς γενόμενοι καὶ μάλιστα οἱ τῆς Στωϊκῆς αἱρέσεως ἡγέμονες ἕως τεττάρων προυβίβασαν χωρίσαντες ἀπὸ τῶν συνδέ σμων τὰ ἄρθρα. idem de Praestantia Demosthenis p. 1101. Reisk.
τοῖς πρώτοις μορίοις τῆς λέξεως –,
εἴτε τρία ταῦτ᾽ ἐστιν,
ὡς Θεοδέκτῃ τε καὶ ᾿Αριστοτέλει δοκεῖ,
ὀνόματα καὶ ῥήματα καὶ σύνδεσμοι,
εἴτε πλείω,
δύο ταῦτα ἀκολουθεῖ,
μέλος καὶ χρόνος ἴσα. Quintilianus I. 0. 1, 4, 18. tum videbit ad quem hoc pertinet, quot et quae sint partes orationis, quamquam de numero parum convenit. veteres enim, quorum fuerunt Aristoteles atque Theodectes, verba modo et nomina et convinctiones tradiderunt paulatim a philosophis et maxime Stoicis auctus est numerus, et primum convinctionibus articuli adiecti, mox praepositiones. sed ecce in hoc nostro Poeticae loco non tripartitam divisionem sed quadripartitam reperimus. habemus articulos quos demum a Stoicis adiectos, h. e. ex convinctionibus secretos fuisse Dionysius cum Quintiliano testatur. numne igitur Dionysium et Quintilianum Poeticam ignorasse aut neglexisse existimabimus cum Classeno 1. c. p. 60.? id equidem non faciam. immo hunc nostrum locum et Dionysius et Quintilianus sane ignoraverunt, sed eosdem ex alio integrae et non interpolatae Poeticae loco nobis deperdito sua hausisse mihi paene certum videtur. nimirum Aristoteles cum in libro suo de Interpretatione c. 2 et 3 et 4. nominis verbique et enuntiati rationem breviter pro suo consilio explicuisset, uberiorem eius rei explicationem aliis libris iam tum reservavit c. 4 extr.
ῥητορικῆς γὰρ ἢ ποιητικῆς οἰκειοτέρα ἡ σκέψις. hanc vero a sese in Poetica expromptam esse profitetur quattuor illis Rhetoricorum locis, quos modo (pag. 222.) indicavimus. itaque Aristoteles eo libro, quem de arte oratoria diu post editam de Interpretatione commentationem (sub ipsum ut videtur vitae finem) conscripsit, lectores suos ad Poeticam amandavit, si de
λέξει poetarum, et quae sint nominum species et translationum genera edoceri se velint. Dionysium igitur, quem rhetoricos Aristotelis libros perdiligenter versasse nemo infitiabitur, huius de orationis partibus doctrinam ex integra Poetica hausisse admodum probabile, ne dicam certum, videtur. quid igitur inde consequitur, cum in hoc libro quartam orationis partem a Stoicis inventam deprehendimus ? quid nisi haec ab aliena manu addita esse, veram autem disputationem intercidisse? haec quae adhuc disputavimus, nisi alia essent, apud me ipsum nonnisi eo valerent, ut suspicio de hoc loco oreretur, ac de illis praecipue quae dicta sunt de octo orationis partibus §. 1. et de convinctionis et articuli natura §. 6 et 7.: sed accedunt alia multa, quibus adducor ut totum caput Aristoteli subtrahendum existimem, quae deinceps persequemur.
2.
mvp-aristotle-comment-136
Ritter, cap. 20 § 2
στοιχεῖον μὲν οὖν ἐστὶ φωνὴ ἀδιαίρε τος: recte ponit
στοιχεῖον, non
γράμμα. elementa enim sive
στοιχεῖα sunt unde voces quae audiri possunt tamquam ex principiis conflantur; litterae sive
γράμματα (radix verbi est
γρ) sunt quatenus scalpuntur vel scribuntur.
ἀδιαίρετος et Latinum indivisus non solum de iis dici quae divisa non sunt sed etiam quae dividi non possunt, verbo monere sufficit.
ἐξ ἧς πέφυκε συνετή γίνεσθαι φωνή: ea est vocis illius indivisae sive individuae natura, ut vox quae intelligi possit fieri inde possit.
3.
mvp-aristotle-comment-137
Ritter, cap. 20 § 3
ταύτης δὲ μέρη: per
ταύτης non singularis quaedam vox indivisa denotatur sed genus elementorum comprehenditur. quae statim sequitur
προσβολή, est vocis ictus quidam, quem allisum novo sed apto nomine consignavit Hermannus. paulo post nonnisi a paucis codicibus (vid. not. crit.) exempla vocalium litterarum
οἷον τὸ Α καὶ τὸ 2 exhibentur. fortasse personatus auctor in re manifesta supersedere se posse exemplo credidit, cum discrimen illud intersemivocale et non vocale (quod continuo memorat) ut exemplis illustraretur magis desiderare et flagitare eidem videretur.
4.
mvp-aristotle-comment-138
Ritter, cap. 20 § 4
ταῦτα δὲ διαφέρει σχήμασί τε τοῦ στόματος καὶ τόποις:
σχήματα τοῦ στόματος sunt varii habitus in quos formatur os nostrum dum litteras proferimus,
τόποι sunt oris loci unde litterae inter pronuntiandum praecipue afficiuntur, dentes et lingua et labia et guttur.
καὶ δασύτητι καὶ ψιλότητι: prout spiritu aspero aut leni (
δασείᾳ et
ψιλῇ) enuntiantur.
ἔτι δὲ ὀξύτητι καὶ βαρύτητι καὶ τῷ μέσῳ: accentum acutum designat
ὀξύτης, gravem
βαρύτης, circumflexum ex acuto gravique compositum ideoque media natura praeditum
τὸ μέσον. –
περὶ ὧν καθ' ἕκαστον ἐν τοῖς μετρικοῖς προσήκει θεω - ρεῖν: homo perdiligens et accuratus paulo post monet similiter
ἀλλὰ καὶ τούτων θεωρῆσαι τὰς διαφορὰς τῆς μετρικῆς ἐστίν. prodere haec videntur grammaticum Alexandrinum : Aristotelis aevo doctrina metrica a grammatica nondum seiuncta et nondum tamquam propria et peculiaris disciplina constituta videtur fuisse. videant alii. interpolator ubique
τέχνας suas crepat. vid. Comment. ad c. 25, 5.
5.
mvp-aristotle-comment-139
Ritter, cap. 20 § 5
καὶ γὰρ τὸ ΓΡ ἄνευ τοῦ Α συλλαβή: inauditum hoc est et falsum. nimirum vir sapiens qui haec scripsit suis se laqueis irretivit: nam cum posuisset syllabam constare ex
ἀφώνου καὶ φωνὴν ἔχοντος (non
καὶ φωνήεντος), inde falsum hoc consequitur, syllabam esse FP, cum Put
ἡμίφωνον habere vocem (
ἔχειν φωνήν) negari nequeat. ex his mihi se prodit grammaticus et mediocris et argutiarum studiosus. eiusdem studii specimina magis manifesta in subsequentibus producemus.
6.
mvp-aristotle-comment-140
Ritter, cap. 20 § 6
σύνδεσμος δ' ἐστὶ φωνὴ ἄσημος-πεφυ κυῖαν συντίθεσθαι: quae hac §. comprehendimus, in iis tria interpretibus et editoribus mira et offensioni obnoxia visa sunt, primum huius definitionis forma et ingenium, tum quod continuo alia subsequitur definitio, quasi scriptor suae definiendi arti parum ipse crediderit, deinde quod alteradefinitio priori prorsus contraria videtur. quae incommoda dum tollere aut allevare conantur, audacibus fere coniecturis indulgent, quibus loci recte pertractandi fundamenta subtrahuntur. ego quae tradita sunt explicare in hunc modum adgredior. auctor falsus alicubi legerat
σύνδεσμον esse vocem
ἄσημον, h. e. quae neque quod est ut nomen, neque quod fit ut verbum, significet. iam ille nomini
συνδέσμῳ conchae instar adhaerescens sapientiam suam profert. scilicet quamquam est
σύνδεσμος, tamen neque facit neque impedit vocem unam significativam, quae ut ex pluribus vocibus componatur natura sua inclinat: quid enim
συνδέσμῳ opus est ad vocem ex pluribus componendam, si sua sponte coalescere potest (
ἐκ πλειόνων πεφυκυῖα συντίθεσθαι)? adhuc nonnisi duae negantes notionis
συνδέσμου notae prolatae sunt; quae praeterea accedunt, de collocatione convinctionum nonnulla monent plane inutilia :
καὶ ἐπὶ τῶν ἄκρων καὶ ἐπὶ τοῦ μέσου, h. e. convinctiones alias in extremitatibus (in principio aut fine enuntiatorum) comparere, alias in medio, si non conveniat in principio solas ponere. earum convinctionum quas in principio enuntiati ponere nudas non conveniat affert tres,
μέν,
ἤτοι,
δή. particula
ἤτοι non pro asseverante sed pro disiungente (aut) accipi debet: nam eo intellectu inchoari ab ea pronuntiatum nequit. pessima sane definitio, quae non declarat quid sit
σύνδεσμος, sed potius quid non sit enarrat. sed nondum quiescit: immo
σοφιστικῶς aliam
συνδέσμου ponit definitionem quae priori contraria videtur esse, sed re vera non est. nam si voces una plures assunt, quarum quaevis per se significativa est, ut
θεὸς καὶ δῶρον, convinctionis ea vis est, ut ex diversis totum quoddam efficiat. hoc est illud
φωνὴ ἄσημος ἐκ πλειόνων μὲν φωνῶν μιᾶς,
σημαντικῶν δέ,
ποιεῖν πεφυκυῖα μίαν σημαντικὴν φωνήν. utramque definitionem (ita liceat appellare) exemplo planam faciam. in enuntiato
παρὰ Θεόδωρον βαδίζω convinctio
παρὰ (praepositiones enim
συνδέσμοις comprehenduntur) neque facit neque impedit vocem unam significativam (
Θεόδωρον), ex pluribus vocibus (ex voce
θεὸς et
δῶρον) aptam componi, ac posita est in enuntiati principio. sed in enuntiato
θεὸς ἢ θεοῦ δῶρόν ἐστι convinctio
ἢ ex pluribus vocibus quae per se significant totum quoddam efficit et posita est in medio. hoc totum quoddam interpolator argute disputans et obscura captans dixit
μίαν σημαντικὴν φωνήν. haec quae probabiliter proposui (nam certi quid in eiusmodi locis vix afferre possumus), si vere exро- sita sunt, frigidum habemus verborum lusum semidocto nugatore utique dignum, nihil amplius. Unum etiamnum monendum videtur, ab Aristotele omnem praeter nomina et verba linguae materiem voce
συνδέσμου (convinctionis) comprehensam fuisse, adverbia et articulos et praepositiones et coniunctiones et interiectiones: idem factum est a personato, nisi quod is quartam orationis partem articulum Stoicos secutus constituit. frustra, ut mihi quidem videtur, sanam sententiam huic loco conciliare viri et ingeniosi et docti tentaverunt, verborum contextum immutando, supplendo, transponendo. lege prae ceteris quae conatus est Hermannus in suis ad h. 1. Commentariis et post cum Classenus de Grammaticae Gr. primordiis p. 57. ego hanc normam tenendam putavi, ut ab immutandis vocabulis et transponendis religiose abstineam, et haec esse hominis in grammaticis caecutientis declarem.
7.
mvp-aristotle-comment-141
Ritter, cap. 20 § 7
ἄρθρον δ' ἐστὶ φωνὴ ἄσημος-διορισμὸν δηλοῖ: quod articulus orationis sive enuntiati initium designare dicitur, hoc intelligi videtur, multa enuntiata ab articulo inchoari: quomodo idem
τέλος indicet ego non expedio. exempla
τὸ φημί et
τὸ περί solam postremam articuli vim, ubi distinctionem denotat, respiciunt. sed ut quod deest virtuti definitionis, numero compensetur, iam altera articuli explicatio succedit,
ἢ φωνὴ ἄσημος,
ἢ οὔτε κωλύει οὔτε ποιεῖ φωνὴν μίαν σημαντικὴν ἐκ πλειόνων φωνῶν,
πεφυκυῖα τίθεσθαι καὶ ἐπὶ τῶν ἄκρων καὶ ἐπὶ τοῦ μέσου. quae
συνδέσμου definitio modo posita erat, eadem paucis omissis paucisque mutatis iam pro altera articuli definitione venditatur. num mirum hoc est? mihi secus videtur: nam quipaulo ante duas convinctionis definitiones non veras attulit, cur idem articuli duas non minus ineptas non producat? at haec nimium similis est illi convinctionis definitioni. est sane et esse potest. nam quemadmodum
σύνδεσμος est (sic ille fere cogitavit) id quod convincit, ita
ἄρθρον est quod iungit (
ἄρει) 1). quapropter indicare voluit quatenus vox illa non iungat, ne quis nomine
ἄρθρον decipi se pateretur.
8.
mvp-aristotle-comment-142
Ritter, cap. 20 § 8
ὄνομα δ᾽ ἐστὶ φωνὴ συνθετή - καθ' αὑτὸ σημαντικόν: haec omnia non bene repetita sunt ex libro Aristotelis de Interpretatione c. 2., ubi legimus
ὄνομα μὲν οὖν φωνὴ σημαντική κατὰ συνθήκην ἄνευ χρόνου,
ἧς μηδὲν μέρος ἐστὶ σημαντικόν κεχωρισμένον. pro
κατὰ συνθήκην (ex consensu, ex instituto) falsus Aristoteles dedit
συθετήν, h. e. componendam, vocem ambiguam atque eo magis ambiguam, quod eandem in syllabae definitione posuit §. 5.
οἷον ἐν τῷ Θεοδώρῳ τὸ δῶρον οὐ σημαίνει: debuit
οἷον ἐν τῷ Θεόδωρος τὸ δῶρος οὐ σημαίνει. male imitatus est verum Aristolelem qui scribit de Interp. c. 2.
ἐν γὰρ τῷ Κάλλιππος τὸ ἵππος οὐδὲν αὐτὸ καθ' ἑαυτὸ σημαίνει.
9.
mvp-aristotle-comment-143
Ritter, cap. 20 § 9
ῥῆμα δὲ φωνὴ συνθετή,
σημαντική μετὰ χρόνου: melius verus Aristoteles de Interpr. c. 3.
ῥῆμα δὲ ἐστι τὸ προσσημαῖνον χρόνον,
οὗ μέρος οὐδὲν σημαίνει χωρίς,
καὶ ἔστιν ἀεὶ τῶν καθ' ἑτέρου λεγομένων σημεῖον. exempla quae definitionem sequuntur hominem male sedulum lectoribusque non multum tribuentem produnt.
10.
mvp-aristotle-comment-144
Ritter, cap. 20 § 10
πτῶσις - εἴδη ἐστίν:
πτῶσιν (casum) Graeci tam nominum quam verborum terminationum affectiones appellant. vid. Aristotel. de Interpr. c. 2 et 3. Latini quoque varias verborum positiones casuum nomine interdum denotaverunt. statim in illis
ἡ μὲν τὸ κατὰ τὸ τούτου alterum
τὸ accepi a Robortello sustentandae structurae plane necessarium. 1) Ego non is sum qui illam nominis
ἄρθρον explicandi rationem veram esse contendam, immo
ἄρθρον passivo intellectu dictum existimo.
11.
mvp-aristotle-comment-145
Ritter, cap. 20 § 11
λόγος δὲ φωνὴ συνθετὴ σημαντική,
ἧς ἔνια μέρη καθ' αὑτὰ σημαίνει τι: exprimere voluit locum ex libro de Interpretatione c. 4.
λόγος δὲ ἐστι φωνὴ σημαντική κατὰ συνθήκην,
ἧς τῶν μερῶν τι σημαντικὸν κεχωρισμένον. sed male admisit
συνθετή pro
κατὰ συνθήκην, male quoque
ἧς ἔνια μέρη pro
ἧς τῶν μερῶν τι κεχωρισμένον, quae sequuntur
οὐ γὰρ ἅπας λόγος ἐκ ῥημάτων καὶ ὀνομάτων σύγκειται,
οἷον ὁ ἀνθρώπου ὁρισμός, haec saltem hoc loco supervacanea sunt.
λόγον Aristoteles dixit non modo enuntiatum (Satz) sed etiam quamcumque significantium vocum copulationem, v. c.
ζῷον ἄπτερον,
ἀνὴρ ἀγαθός. interpolator quaerenti
τί ἄνθρωπος respondentem aliquem cogitat
ζῷον πεζὸν δίπουν 2), non
ζῷον πεζὸν δίπουν ἐστίν, qui est
λόγος ἀποφαντικός. vid. de Interpr.
ἀνάγκη δὲ πάντα λόγον ἀποφαντικὸν ἐκ ῥήματος εἶναι ἢ πτώσεως ῥήματος·
καὶ *
γὰρ ὁ τοῦ ἀνθρώπου λόγος,
ἐὰν μὴ τὸ ἔστιν ἢ ἦν ἢ ἔσται ἤ τι τοιοῦτον προσθετῇ,
οὔπω λόγος ἀποφαντικός. sed plane absurda et falsa quae post haec allata legimus,
μέρος μέντοι ἀεί τι σημαῖνον ἕξει (
ὁ λόγος),
οἷον ἐν τῷ “
βαδίζει Κλέων”
ὁ Κλέων. hic homo Aristotelis sententiam in libro de Interpretatione propositam adeo non intellexit, ut
βαδίζει pro voce non significante habuerit.
12.
mvp-aristotle-comment-146
Ritter, cap. 20 § 12
εἷς δ᾽ ἐστὶ λόγος διχῶς- τῷ ἓν σημαί νειν: imitatus est sed non intellexit illa de Interpr.
ἔστι δὲ εἷς λόγος ἀποφαντικὸς ἢ ὁ ἓν δηλῶν ἢ ὁ συνδέσμῳ εἷς 3).
λόγος ὁ ἓν δηλῶν v. gr. est “
ζῷον πεζὸν δίπουν," quippe qui pluribus verbis unum quid (hominem) denotet.
λόγος συνδέσμῳ εἷς est “
εἰ ὁ θεὸς ἀγαθός,
ἀἴδιον τὸ πᾶν.” vid. quae Ammonius ad 1. c. copiose disputavit in Scholiis in Aristotelem I. p. 110 a 31 - 111 a 9. ed. Brandis. falsus Aristoteles
τὸν λόγον qui est oratio vel enuntiatum commutavit cum
τῷ λόγῳ qui est notio, quasi adhuc de notionibus locu- 2) Conf. de Interpr. c. 5. Metaphys. Z. 12 init. 3) Codices in Poeticae loco
συνδέσμων exhibent, quod librarii vitio irrepsisse pro
συνδέσμῳ liquet.tus esset. itaque pro notione multa in unum comprehendente nomen collectivum
Ἰλιάδα posuit. - sapienti sat. qui haec partim perobscura partim falsa partim absurda et inutilia Aristoteli, acutissimo homini prudentissimoque harum rerum arbitro tribuere potest, is suo iudicio fruatur: ego non potui.
1.
mvp-aristotle-comment-147
Ritter, cap. 21 § 1
Variae nominum species enumerantur, definiuntur, exemplis illustrantur. sub finem capitis nonnulla de genere nominum ab aliena manu adiecta leguntur. Quae hoc capite usque ad §. 12. disputantur, ea et ob suam virtutem et ob Rhetoricorum locos III, 1 et 2., ubi Aristoteles quater ad haec lectorem ablegavit, denique ob Poeticae caput 22. quo haec unice respiciuntur, ab ipso Aristotele scripta esse satis certum videtur. sed quoniam statui nequit post finitum illud c. 19. (vicesimum non esse Aristotelis vidimus) Aristotelem continuo, exponere perrexisse, quae capite 21. exposita legimus,
Ὀνόματος δὲ εἴδη τὸ μὲν ἁπλοῦν cet., vel inde satis liquet haec quae legimus fragmenta esse sive epitomam uberioris de dictione disputationis. idem adprobabitur consideranti locum in Rhetoricis III, 1 extr.
ὥστε φανερὸν ὅτι οὐχ ἅπαντα ὅσα περὶ λέξεως ἔστιν εἰπεῖν ἀκριβολογητέον ἡμῖν,
ἀλλ᾽ ὅσα περὶ τοιαύτης οἵας λέγομεν (de dictione oratoria).
περὶ δ' ἐκείνης (de dictione poetarum)
εἴρηται ἐν τοῖς περὶ ποιητικῆς. nimirum quae illic de oratoria dictione docentur (c. 2-12), ambitu minimum sexies haec pauca quae de poetica exponuntur superant, cum tamen de hac aeque multa vel plura etiam quam de illa dicenda essent. nihil, ut unum exempli gratia afferam, de imagine (
εἴκονι) explicatum legimus, cum in Rhetoricis (III, 4) doceatur, et quid sit imago et quo differat a metaphora. locus ipse, cui haec de dictione disputatio intexitur, male electus videtur.IN POETICAEЕ CAP. 21. §. 1-2. scilicet haec sub finem totius de poesis generibus commentationis ponenda erant, cum ad omnia eius genera aeque pertineant.
ὁ μὴ ἐκ σημαινόντων σύγκειται,
οἷον γῆ: per
μὴ ἐκ σημαινόντων scriptor complectitur
μήτ' ἐκ σημαινόντων μήτ' ἐκ σημαίνοντος καὶ ἀσήμου. nomen
διπλοῦν est quod duobus vocabulis compositum est. horum autem aut utrumque aut alterutrum significativum est, utraque pars nominis duplicis significativa est in
Θεόδωρος,
μητροκτόνος, una in
ἄπτερος,
ὑπερβολή.
καὶ τριπλοῦν καὶ τετραπλοῦν καὶ πολλαπλοῦν: nomina composita cuiusvis generis
συμπεπλεγμένα appellat de Interpr. c. 2.
πολλά τῶν μεγαλιωτῶν: vulgo scribunt
Μεγαλιωτῶν, et in boc nomine vitium admissum putant. mihi
πολλὰ τῶν μεγαλιωτῶν vocis admodum longae et ab Aristotele factae frustula videntur esse. fortasse scripsit
πολλαπλομεγάλωπος.
2.
mvp-aristotle-comment-148
Ritter, cap. 21 § 2
ἢ κόσμος: omnium nominis generum quae hoc loco memorantur, definitiones continuo subsequuntur :
κόσμος autem quid sit non definitur. bis eadem vox recurrit c. 22, 3 et 10., et bis quidem inepte, ut mox declarabimus. quid igitur est
κόσμος ? interpretantur Latine ornatus et cogitant de epithetis ornantibus, sed haec ab Aristotele
κόσμον appellata esse unde probabitur? moneo ne quis abuti velit iis quae Aristoteles Rhetor. III, 7 init. scribit:
τὸ δὲ ἀνάλογόν ἐστιν,
ἐὰν μήτε περὶ εὐόγκων αὐτοκαβδάλως λέγηται μήτε περὶ εὐτελῶν σεμνῶς,
μήδ᾽ ἐπὶ τῷ εὐτελεῖ ὀνόματι ἐπῇ κόσμος. nam hic universe locutus est, cum ornari nomen magnifico epitheto recte dicere posset: alioqui nomine
ἐπιθέτων utitur, ut ibidem pag. 1408 b 11.
τὰ δὲ ὀνόματα τὰ διπλᾶ καὶ τὰ ἐπίθετα πλείω ἁρμόττει τῷ παθητικῶς λέγοντι. conf. III, 2. p. 1405 a 10. ipse
κόσμος, si ponamus esse idem quod
ἐπίθετον, et
γλῶττα et
μεταφορά, denique quodcumque praeter
κύριον esse potest. testis est ipse Aristoteles Rhetor. III, 2 sub initium :
τῶν δ᾽ ὀνομάτων καὶ ῥημάτων σαφή (
τὴν λέξιν)
μὲν ποιεῖ τὰ κύρια,
μὴ ταπεινὴν δὲ ἀλλὰ κεκοσμέ νην τἆλλα ὀνόματα ὅσα εἴρηται ἐν τοῖς περὶ ποιητικῆς. ita- ...que
κόσμος vel ob hanc causam adiungi hic non potest. quapropter eam vocem et hic et duobus aliis locis ex nota marginali natam existimo. scilicet
κόσμον explicationis gratia aliquis in margine posuit, ut sex illa nominum genera quae praeter
κύριον memorantur ad orationis ornatum conferre moneret.
3.
mvp-aristotle-comment-149
Ritter, cap. 21 § 3
,
λέγω δὲ κύριον μὲν ᾧ χρῶνται ἕκαστοι:
τὸ κύριον nomen est quo omnes gentis cuiusdam nationes utuntur. -
γλῶτταν δὲ ᾧ ἕτεροι: glossam id voco quo alii atque omnes utuntur. glossarum origo et ratio duplex: nam eae aut etiamnum apud alios vigent apud alios ignorantur (Provinzialismen), aut aliquando in usu fuere et iam ignorantur (voces obsoletae). —
τὸ γὰρ σίγυνον κτλ. glossa haec modo
σίγῦνος sive
σίγῦνον, modo
σιγύνη sive
σιγύννη scribitur. Herodotus V, 9.,
σιγύννας δ᾽ ὧν καλέουσι Λίγυες οἱ ἄνω ὑπὲρ Μασσαλίης οἰκέοντες τοὺς καπήλους,
Κύπριοι δὲ τὰ δόρατα. Hesych.
σίγυνοι,
τὰ ξυστὰ δόρατα ἢ τοὺς ὁλοσιδήρους ἄκοντας. conf. Etym. Magn. et Suid. s. v.
4.
mvp-aristotle-comment-150
Ritter, cap. 21 § 4
μεταφορὰ δ' ἐστίν: Aristoteles metaphoram latiore sensu intelligit quam nos solemus, qui nonnisi tertiam et quartam speciem ab illo commemoratam pro metaphora accipimus. noster dicendi usus etiam Ciceronis aetate obtinuit. vid. eius de Orat. lib. III. c. 38 sqq.
ἀπ᾿
5.
mvp-aristotle-comment-151
Ritter, cap. 21 § 5
οἷον “
νηῦς δέμοι ἥδ᾽ ἕστηκε”: versus est Homeri Odyss.
Α. 185.
νηῦς δε μοι ἥδ᾽ ἕστηκεν ἐπ᾿ ἀγροῦ νόσφι πόληος. idem versus recurrit 2. 307. in portu esse (
ὁρμεῖν) est standi (
τοῦ στάναι) species: ipsum stare genus est. genus igitur positum sive illatum pro specie.
εἴδους δὲ ἐπὶ γένος: qui in exemplum affertur est versus Homeri Il.
Β. 272.
ὦ πόποι,
ἢ δὴ μυρί᾽ Ὀδυσσεὺς ἐσθλὰ ἔοργεν. genus est multa (
πολλά), species sexcenta (
μυρία). species posita vel illata est pro genere.
ᾧ νῦν ἀντὶ τοῦ πολλοῦ κέχρηται. intelligendus est qui scripsit, h. e. Homerus. haec dicendi brevitas ad epitomatorem auctorem referenda videatur.
ἀπ᾿ εἴδους δὲ ἐπὶ εἶδος: hoc fit, si verbum speciem significans pro alio item speciem denotante ita admittitur, ut utrumque simul pro genere ponatur. hoc enim apparet ex adiectis illis
ἄμφω γὰρ ἀφελεῖν τι ἐστίν. pro exemplis duo afferuntur hemistichia
χαλκῷ ἀπὸ ψυχὴν ἀρύσας atque
τεμὼν ἀτειρέϊ χαλκῷ, quae unde sumpta sint non constat. nonnulli haec ex antiqua Homericorum carminum recensione transcripta existimant, sed ea coniectura unde probari possit non video. in priore
χαλκῷ ἀπὸ ψυχὴν ἀρύσας illud
ἀρύσας pro
τεμών positum esse edocemur, ut sit aere animam hauriens pro aere animam intercidens (
τεμών) vel rapiens (
ἀφελῶν). simile sed non idem est quod Tacitus Histor. I, 41. iugulum haurire dixit. conf. Claudius Quadrigarius apud Gellium IX, 13. eo pacto ei sub Gallicum gladium successit atque Hispanico pectus hausit. difficilius ad explicandum est alterum hemistichium
τεμὼν ἀτειρέϊ χαλκῷ, ubi
τεμών pro
ἀρύσας positum esse audimus. equidem coniicio hoc dictum fuisse de spuma aquae vel iusculi bullientis, sumptumque ex quodam parodiarum scriptore, qui spumam demere s. haurire ridicule appellaret
τεμὼν ἀτειρέϊ χαλκῷ. iam habemus duo exempla, in quibus verbum speciem denotans pro altero item speciem denotante positum est ita ut utrumque etiam pro genere admissum sit.
6.
mvp-aristotle-comment-152
Ritter, cap. 21 § 6
καὶ ἐνίοτε προστιθέασιν ἀνθ' οὗ λέγει,
πρὸς ὅ ἐστιν: post finitam quartae speciei explicationem non continuo exempla sequuntur, idque fieri posset, si etiam eius quae sequitur admonitionis exemplum aliquod additum legeretur, quod factum non esse cernimus. ipsa verba consideres velim; et interdum addunt (qui scribunt) pro quo dicat (qui scribit), ad quid spectet (nomen translatum). nonne vides miram confusionem et explicationis obscuritatem summae infantiae signum? hoc mihi liquet,
πρὸς ὅ ἐστιν nihil esse nisi
ἐπεξήγησιν commatis antecedentis
ἀνθ' οὗ λέγει. interpolator huiusmodi exempla fortasse respexit,
τὸ γῆρας ἑσπέρα βίου μοι πάρεστιν pro eo quod quis nude dicat
ἑσπέρα βίου μοι πάρεστιν. haud dubie hoc ita obscure dictum est, ut prae ceteris exemplo illustrandum esset, quod cum nonsit factum, et exempli defectus et loquendi obscuritas et locus non aptus conspirant, ut multis modis personati auctoris vultum agnoscamus.
ἐρεῖ τοίνυν, h. e. is qui scribit. metaphora hic commemorata usus est Timotheus dithyramborum scriptor, quem ridet Antiphanes comicus. v. Athen. X. p. 433 C.
οὐκ ἂν ἁμάρτοι δέ τις καὶ τὸ ποτήριον αὐτοῦ λέγων φιάλην Αρεως κατὰ τὸν ᾿Αντιφάνους Καινέα,
ἐν ᾧ λέγεται οὕτως·
ἦτει 1)
δ' ἥρως φιάλην ῎Αρεως,
κατὰ Τιμόθεον,
ξυστόν τε βέλος. eiusdem metaphorae mentionem facit Aristoteles Rhetor. III, 4 extr. et 11. pag 1412 b 35.
7.
mvp-aristotle-comment-153
Ritter, cap. 21 § 7
ἐνίοις δ' οὐκ ἔστιν ὄνομα κείμενον τό ἀνάλογον: per
ὄνομα et nomen et verbum hoc loco complectitur vulgarem dicendi usum secutus, idemque bis factum ante, §. 2 et 4.
τὸ δὲ τὴν φλόγα ἀπὸ τοῦ ἡλίου ἀνώνυμον: h. e. solis radios demittere per unum verbum Graece enuntiari nequit.
καὶ τὸ σπείρειν πρὸς τὸν καρπόν: ut analogia constet,
καρπός intelligendus est moles frumenti, unde particulae proiiciuntur in agrum. iam radios demittere se habet ad solem sicut serere (frumenti particulas demittere) ad saccum frumenti plenum. unde
σπείρων θεοκτίσταν φλόγα sumptum sit, nobis haud compertum. Latinos poetas eadem uti metaphora monent interpretes afferentes Virgil. Aen. II, 584. Lucret. II, 211.
8.
mvp-aristotle-comment-154
Ritter, cap. 21 § 8
ἀλλ᾽ ἄοινον: qui scutum appellat pateram vini expertem, is dum scutum alieno nomine (
φιάλην) designat (
προσαγορεύσας τὸ ἀλλότριον), adiecto
ἄo
ινo
ν aliquid denegat (
τῶν οἰκείων τι ἀπύφησι) quod est paterae proprium: eo autem lector admonetur non proprie accipienda esse quae de patera dicuntur. peracuta sane observatio est et philosopho digna. 1)
ᾔτει δ' ἥρως Tyrwhittus in annot. ad h. 1. scite dedit; Athenaei codices
εἰ τῇ δῆλος.
9.
mvp-aristotle-comment-155
Ritter, cap. 21 § 9
πεποιημένον - ἀρητῆρα:
πεποιημένον est factum fictumque a poeta. eiusmodi verba novata appellat Cicero de Orat. III, 38, 154. novantur autem verba quae ab eo qui dicit ipso gignuntur ac fiunt. pro exemplis ibidem affert expectorare, versutiloquus, incurviscere. -
δοκεῖ γὰρ ἔνια εἶναι τοιαῦτα: dubitat, et recte quidem, utrum eiusmodi voces scriptoris ingenio an usui antiquo et obsoleto tribuat.
οἷον τὰ κέρατα ἔρνυγας.
κτλ. quemadmodum cornua ramulos et sacerdotem precatorem. recte ab Hermanno observatum est
ἔρνυξ eiusdem esse significationis atque
ἔρνος, sed formatum ut
ἄντυξ. Bekkerus cum antiquis editoribus
ἐρνύγας dedit, nominativum
ἐρνύγη accipiens, non
ἔρνυξ. Hesychius et Favorinus :
ἐρνύ)
τας (sic),
ἔρνη,
βλαστήματα,
κλάδους. hoc vocabulum ex cyclico quodam carmine sumptum videtur.
ἀρητὴρ Homeri est Il. A. 94. Е. 78.
10.
mvp-aristotle-comment-156
Ritter, cap. 21 § 10
ἀφηρημένον δὲ οἷον τὸ κρῖ καὶ τὸ δῶ: stirpes illae nominum
δῶμα et
κριθή saepius apud Homerum ceterosque poetas epicos reperiuntur. nomina sunt imperfecta potius quam mutilata, quatenus terminos non tam amiserunt quam omnino non receperunt. conf. Strabo VIII. p. 364 (p. 560):
παραδείγμασι δὲ χρῶνται τοῦ μὲν ποιητοῦ τῷ κρῖ καὶ δῶ καὶ μάψ,
καὶ ἔτι (Il.
Τ. 392) “
ἵππους δ᾽ Αὐτομέδων ·
τε καὶ Αλκιμος᾽ ἀντὶ τοῦ ᾿Αλκιμέδων,
Ἡσιόδου δέ,
ὅτι τὸ ῥᾴδιον ῥᾶ,
Ἐπίχαρμος δὲ τὸ λίαν λί,
Συρακὼ δὲ τὰς Συρακούσας.
παρ' Ἐμπεδοκλεῖ δὲ “
μία γίνεται ἀμφοτέρων ὄψ”
ἡ ὄψις.
καὶ παρ' ᾿Αντιμάχῳ “
Δήμητρός τοι Ἐλευσινίης ἱερὴ ὄψ,”
καὶ τὸ ἄλφιτον ἄλφι. paulo post Empedoclis hemistichium (Empedoclis esse Strabo nos docet) totum ab Aristotele transcriptum est, ut lectores vocem
ὄψ pro decurtata
ὄψις, non pro foramine, acciperent.
11.
mvp-aristotle-comment-157
Ritter, cap. 21 § 11
οἷον τὸ “
δεξιτερὸν κατὰ μαζόν᾽ ἀντὶ τοῦ δεξιόν: secundum hanc opinionem poeta
δεξι reliquit,
τερος ipse fecit.
τὸ ὀνομαζόμενον est quod vulgo dicitur, h. e. nomen usitatum.
12.
mvp-aristotle-comment-158
Ritter, cap. 21 § 12
αὐτῶν δὲ τῶν ὀνομάτων - καὶ Ν καὶ Σ:quae hinc usque ad finem capitis leguntur, ab Aristotele scribi potuisse nego: ille enim non canones grammaticos voluit perscribere sed ex rebus grammaticis nonnisi eligere quae ad illustrandam dictionem poeticam pertinerent. sed haec de genere nominum disputatio et ab illo consilio utique aliena est et absurdo ludi magistro digna. ipsa quae docentur gravibus vitiis laborant. nimirum nomina in Net Pet ∑ desinentia mascula esse audimus, quamquam permulta et neutrius et feminini generis esse constat, ut
ὀστέον,
φρέαρ πέρας,
νῆσος et sexcenta alia. paulo post sibi ipse non constat scribens
τὰ δὲ μεταξὺ (neutrius generis nomina)
εἰς ταῦτα καὶ Σ. vulgaris et ineptus grammaticus agnoscitur etiam in illis
ὥστε ἴσα συμβαίνει 'πλήθει εἰς ὅσα τὰ ἄρρενα καὶ τὰ θήλεα.
εἰς δὲ τὸ Ιτρία μόνον,
μέλι κόμμι πέπερι: doctius Athenaeus II. p. 66 F:
τοῦτο δὲ ἡμᾶς τηρῆσαι δεῖ,
ὅτι οὐδέτερον ὄνομα οὐδέν ἐστι παρὰ τοῖς Ἕλλησιν εἰς Ι λῆγον,
εἰ μὴ μόνον τὸ μέλι.
τὸ γὰρ πέπερι καὶ κόμμι καὶ κοῖφι ξενικά.
1.
mvp-aristotle-comment-159
Ritter, cap. 22 § 1
Poeticae dictionis virtus et vitium. Quae hoc capite breviter quidem sed peracute docteque de vitiis et virtutibus poeticae dictionis explicata legimus, ea respexit Aristoleles in Rhetoricis III, 1 extr. et 2 init. his verbis:
περὶ δ' ἐκείνης (de dictione poetica)
εἴρηται ἐν τοῖς περὶ ποιητικῆς.
ἔστω οὖν ἐκεῖνα τεθεωρημένα,
καὶ ὡρίσθω λέξεως ἀρετὴ σαφῆ εἶναι. quibus locis omnem de hac disputatione dubitationem amoveri liquet.
σαφεστάτη μὲν οὖν ἐστὶν ἡ ἐκ τῶν κυρίων ὀνομάτων: per
ὀνόματα hic tam
ὀνόματa quae proprie dicuntur quam
ῥήματα complectitur, et idem constanter facit per caput hoc 22 et antecedens 21, quod ipsum signum est haec non esse illius qui c. 20 intertexuit. eadem quae22. §. 1. 237 hic sententia profertur Rhetor. III, 2 sub initium:
τῶν δ᾽ ὀνομάτων καὶ ῥημάτων σαφῆ μὲν ποιεῖ τὰ κύρια. pro exemplo humilis dictionis Cleophontis poesis et Stheneli affertur. de Chleophonte dictum ad c. 2, 3. Sthenelus tragicus erat temporibus Aristophanis, abs quo irrisus est in Gerytade, ut ex Athenaeo (collato scholiasta ad Aristoph. Vesp. 1303) IX. p. 367 B discimus, in hunc modum:
καὶ πῶς ἐγὼ Σθενέλου φάγοιμ᾽ ἂν ῥήματα;
εἰς ὅξος ἐμβαπτόμενος ἢ λεπτοὺς ἅλας. alterum versum etiam Pollux VI, 65. laudavit. cf. Harpocratio s. v.
Σθένελος. Athenaeus unum Stheneli fragmentum servavit X. p. 428
Α,
Σθένελός τε ὁ ποιητὴς οὐ κακῶς εἴρηκεν οἶνος καὶ φρονέοντας ἐς ἀφροσύνας ἀναβάλλει.
σεμνὴ δὲ καὶ ἐξαλλάττουσα τὸ ἰδιωτικὸν ἡ τοῖς ξενικοῖς κεχρημένη: quidquid contrarium est
τῷ κυρίῳ, una voce
τοῦ ξενικοῦ significavit. causam cur peregrinis admixtis splendida dictio fiat exposuit in Rhetoricis III, 2 sub initium.
2.
mvp-aristotle-comment-160
Ritter, cap. 22 § 2
ἂν μὲν οὖν ἐκ μεταφορῶν,
αἴνιγμα: dictio ex meris metaphoris conflata nonnisi ab eo potest intelligi, qui et translate dici scit neque ignorat quomodo translatio instituta sit.
ἐὰν δὲ ἐκ γλωττῶν,
βαρβαρισμός: peregrina dictio fit, si unis glossis composita est. hoc fieri tam manifestum est, ut explicatione non egeat: nam quae paulo post interponuntur,
ἐκ τῶν γλωττῶν βαρβαρισμός, ea ab interpolatore quodam ex his ipsis hausta illic inertissime repetuntur, et ab editoribus, ut saltem aliqua iunctura prodiret, in hunc modum interpolata vulgo exhibentur :
ἐκ δὲ τῶν γλωττῶν ὁ βαρβαρισμός. sed alterum illud, aenigma fieri si quis nonnisi translationibus utatur, cum minus manifestum videatur, hoc aenigmatis definitione declaratur.
κατὰ μὲν οὖν τὴν τῶν ὀνομάτων σύνθεσιν οὐχ οἷόν τε τοῦτο ποιῆσαι: per
ὀνόματa hic quoque nomina et verba significantur. secundum unam verborum copulationem fieri non potest, ut simul quae sunt (
τὰ ὑπάρχον-
τα) et simul quae non possunt esse (
τὰ ἀδύνατα) exprimantur, sed id per metaphoram fieri potest, cum verba proprie intellecta significant quae fieri nequeunt, contra improprie accepta id indicant quod fieri potest.
οἷον “
ἄνδρ᾽ - κολλήσαντα": igne aera viro adglutinare refertur in
ἀδυνάτοις: sed qui resciverit
χαλκὸν translate dictum esse (
ἀπὸ γένους ἐπ᾿ εἶδος c. 21, 5) pro cucurbitula (Schröpfkopf), statim intelligit dici quae fieri possunt. Aristoteles Rhetor. III, 2. p. 1405 b 1. posito eodem aenigmate scribit
κόλλησιν τοίνυν εἶπε τὴν τῆς σικύας προσβολήν. Athenaeus X. p. 452 C.
πολλοὶ δὲ γρίφων καὶ τοιαῦ τοί τινές εἰσιν οἷον ἄνδρ᾽ εἶδον πυρὶ χαλκὸν ἐπ᾿ ἀνέρι κολλήσαντα οὕτω συνκόλλως ὥστε σύναιμα ποιεῖν. veterum cucurbitularum genera et formas descripsit Celsus de Medicina II, 11. cucurbitularum vero duo genera sunt, aeneum et corneum, aenea altera parte patet, altera clausa est: in aeneam linamentum ardens coniicitur, ac sic os eius corpori aptatur imprimiturque donec inhaereat. conf. Pollux X, 149.
3.
mvp-aristotle-comment-161
Ritter, cap. 22 § 3
δεῖ ἄρα κεκρᾶσθαί πως τούτοις: subintellige
τὴν λέξιν. de scriptura verbi
κεκρᾶσθαι in notis criticis dictum.
τούτοις est
τῷ ξενικῷ καὶ τῷ κυρίῳ. qui intertexuit
ἐκ τῶν γλωττῶν βαρβαρισμός, is videtur subintellexisse
τῷ αἰνίγματι καὶ βαρβαρισμῷ.
καὶ ὁ κόσμος: ipsa metaphora et glossa et cetera nominum genera ante memorata ad ornatum dictionis pertinent eumque efficiunt. xó-
σμος igitur loco inepto et ab aliena manu infertur. vide quae diximus ad c. 21, 2.
4.
mvp-aristotle-comment-162
Ritter, cap. 22 § 4
τὸ παρὰ τὸ εἰωθὸς γιγνόμενον τὸ μὴ ἰδιωτικὸν ποιήσει: id quod contra consuetum fit sive admissum est facit ne vulgare assit. primum
τὸ et codicibus deest et editionibus, sed a sententia, ut mihi videtur, efflagitatur. subiectum enim est
τὸ παρὰ τὸ εἰωθὸς γιγνόμενον, idque sine articulo non potest consistere. intercidit eo quod continuo duplex
τὸ subsequitur.•
5.
mvp-aristotle-comment-163
Ritter, cap. 22 § 5
οἷον Εὐκλείδης ὁ ἀρχαῖος: quis sit incertum est; eius versus scriptorem parodiarum sapiunt.
αὐτῇ λέξει, h. e. ipsa dictione ita conformata, ut eius reprehensioni responderet. -
ἤτοι ῎Αρην: codices
ἠτίχαριν, utrumque vitium ex itacismo natum est, si vere emendavi. Hermannus scripsit
ἤτοι Χάριν, Graefenhanius
ἢ τάχ' "
Αρην.
ἐπέκτασις in hoc versu admissa vitiosa illa est pronuntiatio
βαδδίζοντα.
καὶ “
οὐκ ἄν γ' ἐράμενος τὸν ἐκείνου ἐλλέβορον:” versus sic dispositos puto fuisse -
νν ἐλλέβορον νυ οὐκ ἄν γ' ἐράμενος τὸν ἐκείνου ...
ἔκτασιν vitiose admissam coniicio in prima syllaba verbi
ἐράμενος (
ἐρράμενος). hoc ipsum cum infinitivo quodam, unde aptus fuerit accusativus
τὸν ἐλλέβορον, iunctum fuisse coniicio, ut apud Sophocl. Oed. Col. 512.
ὅμως δ᾽ ἔραμαι πυθέσθαι, nisi scribere mavis
τοῦ ἐκείνου ἐλλεβόρου, quod per versum licet. particularum av et y' coniunctio in exemplo vitiosae locutionis offendere non debet.
6.
mvp-aristotle-comment-164
Ritter, cap. 22 § 6
τὸ μὲν οὖν φαίνεσθαί πως χρώμενον τούτῳ τῷ τρόπῳ γελοῖον: ac deprehendi quodammodo utentem hoc genere ridiculum est.
φαίνεσθαί πως χρώμενον τούτῳ τῷ τρόπῳ est ita his uti orationis ornamentis ut deprehendaris, h. e. ut dedita opera te fecisse appareat. conf. Rhetor. III, 2 sub init. ibi oratoribus, quos illis ornamentis etiam parcius quam poetas uti convenit, praecepit
διὸ δεῖ λανθάνειν ποιοῦντας,
καὶ μὴ δοκεῖν λέγειν πεπλασμένως cet.
τὸ δὲ μέτρον κοινὸν ἁπάντων ἐστὶ τῶν με - ρῶν: metrum autem commune est omnium partium. quomodo aliis haec placeant nescio: mihi displicere scio. hoc certum est,
τὸ μέτρον intelligi non posse iustum modum: is enim si intelligeretur,
μέτρον ΤΙ scribi debuit, non
ΤΟ μέτρον, et
μέτρον τι γὰρ poni debuit vel
ἀλλὰ μέτρον τι, non
μέτρον δὲ, porro
κοινὸν δεῖ εἶναι, non
κοινόν ἐστι, postremo
ἁπασῶν ἰδεῶν, non
ἁπάντων μερῶν. hisce alienis autem sublatis, optime procedit sententia: ridiculum esse deprehendi
τὸ μὲν aliquem consectantem extensiones. tum quasi per parenthesin monetur etiam in ceteris illis formis nimium earum usum ridiculum videri ¹); tandem sequitur id pronuntiatum -
τὸ δὲ ἁρμόττον ὅσον διαφέρει -, quod priori illi
οὖν φαίνεσθαί πως χρώμενον τούτῳ τῷ τρόπῳ γελοῖον contrarium positum est. sed unde suppositicia orta sunt ? ex glossa marginali, quemadmodum docebo ad §. 7.
7.
mvp-aristotle-comment-165
Ritter, cap. 22 § 7
τὸ δὲ ἁρμόττον ὅσον διαφέρει,
ἐπὶ τῶν ἐπῶν θεωρείσθω,
ἐντιθεμένων τῶν ὀνομάτων εἰς τὸ μέτρον: iustus extensionum modus significatur per
τὸ δὲ ἁρμόττον. in epicis carminibus extensiones potissimum adhibentur; quae causa est cur dixerit, hoc considerandum esse
ἐπὶ τῶν ἐπῶν. pergit
ἐντιθεμένων τῶν ὀνομάτων εἰς τὸ μέτρον, nominibus metro includendis:
ὀνόματα dicuntur ut
ταῖς ἐκτάσεσιν opponantur. suadet Aristoteles ut quis in versibus epicorum pro extentis formis vulgares numero iuste adstringat, si velit intelligere quantum iustus extensionum modus valeat. contra haec
ἐντιθεμένων τῶν ὀνομάτων εἰς τὸ μέτρον in margine a sciolo quodam posita existimo illa quae modo ex Aristoteliis sublevavi,
τὸ δὲ μέτρον κοινὸν ἁπάντων ἐστὶ τῶν μερῶν. nimirum nasutulus iste cogitavit: "quid tandem nomina metro includamus, cum sermo sit de poetica dictione, cum omnes quae enumerantur formae, et extensiones et metaphorae cet., versibus iam adstrictae a nobis inveniantur ?"
Αἰσχύλος μὲν γὰρ ἐν τῷ Φιλοκτήτῃ : de Aeschyli Philocteta nobis perdito praeclare disputatum est ab Hermanno in Opuscul. III. p. 119 sqq. fragmenta Euripidei Philoctetae Augustus Matthiae et Dindorfius collecta exhibent. tres trium tragoediae Graecae principum Philoctetas inter se comparare instituit Gruppius in Ariadna p. 417-452. —
φαγέδαινα ή: quamvis versus vitium optime et facil- 1)
τὸ αὐτὸ ἀπεργάσοιτο: is idem efficeret, h. e. ut irrideretur faceret.lime ab Hermanno
φαγέδαιναν scribente sublatum videatur, ego tamen non imitabor. nam in versu Aeschylio particula quaedam post
φαγέδαινα inserta esse potuit (ex. gr. r' vel d'), quam Aristoteles prudens omittere voluit. idem, si re vera apud Aeschylum
φαγέδαιναν legebat, tamen suo verborum contextui nominativum magis convenire ratus hoc immutare potuit, ut saltem Aristotelis editori non liceat codicibus nou iuvantibus quidquam mutare.
ὁ δὲ ἀντὶ τοῦ ἐσθίει τὸ θοινᾶται μετέθηκεν: Euripides metaphoram captavit, ubi abstinere ab ea debuit.
θοινᾶται est species,
ἐσθίει genus. Euripidis metaphora secunda est ex iis quae c. 21, 4. enumeratae sunt.
νῦν δέ μ᾽ ἐὼν ὀλίγος: est versus Homeri Odyss. I. 515. qui subsequitur ab Aristotele factus est.
ὀλίγος pro
μικρὸς species est 2) pro specie,
οὐτιδανὸς pro
ἀειδὴς genus est pro specie,
ἄκικυς pro
ἀσθενικὸς glossa est. conf. c. 21, 3-5.
ἄκικους iterum legitur in Odyss.
Φ. 131.
δίφρον ἀεικέλιον: est versus Homericus ex Odyss. T. 259.
αεικέλιος pro
μοχθηρός species est pro genere. vid. c. 21, 5. in nostris Homeri exemplaribus
παραθεὶς legimus, non
καταθείς. hoc aut memoriae Aristotelis aut diversitati scripturae, quae eius Homericae Odysseae exemplari inerat, tribuendum erit. -
ἠϊόνες βοόωσιν: sumptum est ex Homeri Iliade P. 265.
βοᾶν cum proprie de mugitu boum et
κράζειν item atque
κρώζειν de clamore corvorum dicatur,
ἠϊόνες κράζουσιν humile atque ridiculum,
ἠϊόνες βοόωσιν dignum apparet.
κράζειν est kreischen, quo verbo in nonnullis Germaniae regionibus clamorem inaequalem et minus gravem, praecipue infantilem, exprimunt. itaque crociunt quod in versione mea Latina posui non omnino respondet: sed alia verba Latina sonum denotantia magis etiam a Graeco recedunt.
8.
mvp-aristotle-comment-166
Ritter, cap. 22 § 8
ἔτι δὲ ᾿Αρειφράδης - ἐκεῖνος δὲ τοῦτο 2) Bene Ammonius de Differentia affin. vocab.
τὸ μὲν γὰρ ὀλίγον ἐπ᾿ ἀριθμοῦ τὸ δὲ μικρὸν ἐπὶ μεγέθους τάσσεται,
ἠγνόει: quid attinebat obscurissimi hominis ineptissimam reprehensionem ex secreto secessu excitare? nihil nisi ut curiosi ineptique grammatici doctrina ostentaretur. nam quid ineptius excogitari potest quam tragicis poetis vitio dari (ex. gr. anastropham praepositionum) id quod omnium poetarum commune et ne a vulgari quidem locutione alienum est ? advertas etiam velim quam perturbate exempla afferantur: primum enim ponitur anastropha praepositionis
δομάτων ἄπο, tum tamquam singularia
σέθεν et viv, deinde quarto loco rursus anastrophae exemplum recurrit. advertas putidam diligentiam
δομάτων ἄπο ἀλλὰ μὴ ἀπὸ δομάτων, et rursus
᾿Αχιλλέως πέρι ἀλλὰ μὴ περὶ ᾿Αχιλλέως. tertium exemplum (viv) mire ita producitur, ut particula versus Sophoclei (Oed. Colon. 987) afferatur, sic
ἐγὼ δένιν ἄκων ἔγημα φθέγγομαί τ' ἄκων τάδε. quod equidem defendere nolim exemplo illo simili c. 21, 10.
μία γίνεται ἀμφοτέρων ὄψ. vide etiam quanto cum fastu doctus magistellus sententiam suam concludat:
ἐκεῖνος δὲ τοῦτο ἠγνόει. restat aliud. tragoediarum scriptores iste appellat
τραγῳδούς, sua sibi loquendi consuetudine, non Aristotelia. serioris aetatis scriptores minus accurate loquentes interdum haec nomina commiscent, ut Athenaeus qui II. p. 35 D. Chaeremonem tragicum poetam
τραγῳδὸν appellavit. -
᾿Αρειφράδης quis tandem sit nescimus. Aristophanes pluribus locis (Equit. 1281 sqq. Vesp. 1280 sqq. cf. Suidas s. v.)
᾿Αριφράδην Arignoti fratrem citharoedum insectatur, quippe qui nefandam linguam infandis locis turpiter admoverit, sed hic potius obscurus quidam grammaticus intelligitur. neque vero id diligentem lectorem effugiet, veram et dignam Aristotele disputationem his illatis non solum non iuvari sed importune interrumpi.
9.
mvp-aristotle-comment-167
Ritter, cap. 22 § 9
μόνον γὰρ τοῦτο - θεωρεῖν ἐστίν: brevissime haec et tamen perdilucide et luculente disputata sunt. ex talibus verum Aristotelem agnoscas, ut falsum deprehendere discas.
10.
mvp-aristotle-comment-168
Ritter, cap. 22 § 10
τῶν δ᾽ ὀνομάτων τὰ μὲν διπλᾶ - τοῖς ἰαμβείοις: his simillima leguntur in Rhetoricis III, 3. p. 1406 b 1.
διὸ χρησιμωτάτη ἡ διπλῆ λέξις τοῖς διθυραμβοποιοῖς·
οὗτοι γὰρ ψοφώδεις·
αἱ δὲ γλῶτται τοῖς ἐποποιοῖς·
σεμνὸν γὰρ καὶ αὔθαδες·
ἡ μεταφορὰ δὲ τοῖς ἰαμβείοις.
ὅσοις κἂν ἐν λόγοις τις χρήσαιτο:
ἐν λόγοις est in orationibus ab oratore habendis. conf. Rhetor. III, 2. p. 1404 b 31.
τὸ δὲ κύριον καὶ τὸ οἰκεῖον καὶ μεταφορὰ μόναι χρήσιμοι πρὸς τὴν τῶν ψιλῶν λόγων λέξιν, quos
ψιλοὺς λόγους poesin respiciens appellat, eos ibidem paulo post nude
λόγους et
λόγον nominat.
ἔστι δὲ τὰ τοιαῦτα τὸ κύριον καὶ μεταφορά [
καὶ κόσμος]: si haec postrema (dico voces
καὶ κόσμος) Aristoteles scripsisset, mirum quantum ipse sibi repugnaret. nam ad
κόσμον pertinent eumque efficiunt omnes illae praeter
τὸ κύριον nominum species: omnibus illis igitur utendum esset et in orationibus et in poematis quae iambicis versibus includuntur (h. e. in iambis et in dialogis fabularum), id quod praefracte negat Aristoteles in iis Rhetoricorum locis, quos ex III, 2 et 3. paulo ante transcripsimus. conferenda sunt quae dixi ad c. 21, 2.
1.
mvp-aristotle-comment-169
Ritter, cap. 23 § 1
Quae sit unitas epici carminis et qua in re ab historia differre illud debeat significatur. unitatem epopoeiae ab uno Homero rite servatam esse. , Quod in principio huius capitis dicitur manifestum (
δῆλον) esse fabulas epicae poesi subiectas aeque ac tragicas pangendas esse activas (
δραματικάς), ac circa unam actionem totam et absolutam, id sane nondum ostensum est. nam c. 4, 9. nonnisi obscure significatum est ab Homero imitationes nonsolum bene sed etiam
δραματικάς exhiberi. sed hoc ipsum, tam fabulas epicas quam tragicas
δραματικάς conformandas esse, falso pronuntiari videtur aut temere, nisi si ante dictum est quid sit
τοὺς μύθους δραματικούς συνιστάναι, ubi hoc de epico carmine dicitur. agendi scilicet rationem non eandem obtinere in epopoeia quam in tragoedia, id et sponte patet et ab Aristotele obscure sub initium huius libri (c. 3, 1) indicatum est, unde igitur clarum illud est, quod huius operis lectoribus, si non aliunde didicerunt, etiamnum obscurum esse debet? sed ad hanc dubitationem respondere in Praefatione operam dedimus.
περί δὲ τῆς διηγηματικῆς καὶ ἐν μέτρῳ μιμητικῆς: cum narrativa poesi non solum epopoeia quae vulgo dicitur sed mimi etiam prosa oratione conscripti et dialogi Socratici contineantur, id quod c. 1, 7. propositum est, vocibus
ἐν μέτρῳ μιμητικῆς adiectis aperire voluit se iam disputaturum esse de poesi narrativa quam vulgo intelligant, sufficiebat autem generalis nota
ἐν μέτρῳ, neque opus erat
ἐν ἑξαμέτρῳ, ut nonnulli crediderunt, propterea quod imitatio narrativa versibus adstricta nonnisi metro heroo usque ad aevum Aristotelis inclusa ferebatur. conf. c. 1, 6. et Comment. pag. 82 seq.
καὶ καὶ περὶ μίαν πρᾶξιν ὅλην καὶ τελείαν: quantum attinet ad fabulam sive argumentum tragoediae, hoc explanatum est c. 7 et praecipue c. 8, 4. quod c. 8, 3. etiam Homeri mentio facta est, id quomodo cohaereat in Commentario ad
2.
mvp-aristotle-comment-170
Ritter, cap. 23 § 2
illius capitis exposui. quapropter de hoc argumento epicae poesis ratione habita nihil adhuc explicatum est.
ὥσπερ ζῷον ἓν ὅλον: hoc exsecutus est c. 7,5-7., sed tragoediam respiciens, non epopoeiam. -
καὶ μὴ ὁμοίας ἱστορίας τὰς συνήθεις εἶναι; variandae orationis gratia subiectum mutatur. in vulgari rerum gestarum enarratione non ea unitas inest, quae dominari debet in epico carmine, sed eodem tempore saepe accidunt quae nullo vinculo continentur; quae si ab annalium scriptore narrantur, unitatis legem turbari necesse est.
ὡς ἔτυχεν est ut casus* 245 tulit, ita ut alia arto aut laxo vinculo cohaereant, alia nulla cognatione se contingant. haec in sequentibus exemplo ex historia petito declarantur. §. 2.
ὥσπερ γάρ - Καρχηδονίων μάχη: isdem temporibus esse
κατὰ τοὺς αὐτοὺς χρόνους apparet ex oppositis
οὕτω καὶ ἐν τοῖς ἐφεξῆς χρόνοις: nimirum inter se componuntur tempora eadem quibus in diversis spatiis varia gesta sunt et tempora sibi succedentia quibus una res continuo post alteram (
θάτερον μετά θατέρου) accidit. fama hoc vulgatum esse Herodotus VII, 155. scribit, devicisse Gelonem eodem die ingentem Hamilcaris Carthaginiensis exercitum, quo classis Persarum ad Salaminem a Graecis fugata est aut submersa :
πρὸς δὲ καὶ τάδε λέγουσι,
ὡς συνέβη τῆς αὐτῆς ἡμέρης ἔν τε τῇ Σικελίῃ Γέλωνα καὶ Θήρωνα νικᾶν ᾿Αμίλκαν τὸν Καρχηδόνιον καὶ ἐν Σαλαμῖνι τοὺς Ἕλληνας τὸν Πέρσην. quid Aristoteles de huius famae veritate aut mendacio senserit quaerere nihil attinet. ut inde exemplum peteret ad illustrandum id de quo loquitur, satis erat quod illud fama ferebatur.
θάτερον μετά θατέρου: unum cum altero, h. e. alterum continuo post alterum accidit, neque tamen unum quoddam inde consequitur. quae poeta narrat, ea ad unum finem contendunt.
3.
mvp-aristotle-comment-171
Ritter, cap. 23 § 3
σχεδόν δὲ οἱ πολλοὶ τῶν ποιητῶν τοῦ - το δρῶσιν : sententiam hanc sane gravem ac fortasse subiniquam mitigavit addito
σχεδόν. ceteri Graecorum epici poetae Homero excepto non eam unitatis normam secuti sunt, quam summus artis poeticae magister praescripsit, sed ita tantummodo observaverunt ut accederent aliquatenus ad rationem in rerum scriptoribus probatam.
διό,
ὥσπερ εἴπομεν ἤδη-καταπεπλεγμένον τῇ ποικιλίᾳ : quod auctor occasione oblata iam ante (c. 8, 3) monuerat et Odysseae exemplo illustraverat, idem h. 1. ita persequitur ut Iliadem solam respiciat. Homerus in condenda Iliade duobus modis excellit, primum quod bellum Troianum non totum carmine celebrare adgressus est, deinde quod ne summa quidem fastigia rerum in modicam magnitudinem con-... tracta sed nimía varietate implicata poemati materiam substravit. enuntiati duo membra coordinata sunt, unum
τῷ μηδὲ τὸν πόλεμον ἐπιχειρῆσαι ποεῖν ὅλον, alterum
ἢ τῷ (intellige
μηδ' ἐπιχειρῆσαι ποιεῖν)
μεγέθει μετριάζοντα καταπεπλεγμένον τῇ ποικιλίᾳ. Iliada esse
ἁπλῆν non multo post (c. 24, 3) iterum monuit.
ἐπεισοδίοις κέχρηται [
αὐτῶν]
πολλοῖς: pronomen
αὐτῶν adhuc explicare nemo ita potuit, ut linguae Graecae legibus satisfaceret. Victorius et Hermannus belli Troiani partes ab Homero omissas designari putant, sed id quomodo fieri possit, neuter explicuit. Hermannus auctoris negligentiam agnoscit; alii coniecturis sanare locum tentaverunt. mihi haec vox plane supervacanea casu illata videtur esse: nimirum adversus
ἀπολαβών in margine aliquis posuit
αὐτῶν, isque intellexit
μερῶν τοῦ πολέμου ex praecedente
ἓν μέρος, ut ne lectorem fugeret quo
ἀπολαβών referendum esset. hinc nota in verborum contextum, sed alieno loco, recepta est.
οἱ δ᾽ ἄλλοι: intelligit poetas cyclicos et Panyasin Halicarnassensem, Choerilum Samium, Antimachum Colophonium. conf. c. 8. ·
καὶ μίαν πρᾶξιν πολυμερῆ: actio carmini epico subiecta non solum ita una esse debet ut unius hominis et unius temporis sit, sed etiam una parte primaria illam contineri oportet. minus epopoeiae vitii inest quae circa unam actionem eamque
πολυμερή versatur quam quae duplex argumentum vel multiplex admisit. vitium illud prius et levius in Cypriis et parva Iliade deprehendit, et rectissime quidem, ut etiamnum ex illis Chrestomathiae Proculianae excerptis videre licet.
μία πρᾶξις Cyprio carmini subiecta origo erat belli Troiani, sed eam vel maxime
πολυμερῆ fuisse fragmenta quae dixi probant. parvae Iliadis nonnisi priorum quattuor librorum summaria excerpta illa praestant: nam Proclus rerum gestarum seriem contexturus ubi quattuor libros parvae Iliadis excerpsit, hanc mittit et ad Arctini
Ἰλίου Πέρσιν pergit, quamquam etiam a parvae Iliadis poeta (Lesches a plerisque fertur carminis auctor, ab aliis in incerto relinquitur in quibus Aristoteles) Ilii excidium enarratum fuisse constat. conf. Hermanni ad h. 1. Commentarii, Wüllneri de Cyclo epico Commentatio p. 85 sqq., Welckeri opus quod patria lingua scripsit de Cyclo epico p. 214 sqq. Nitzschii de Historia Homeri Meletem. fasc. II. p. 38 sqq. de Cypriis praeter alios exposuerunt Wüllnerus et Welckerus in libris modo laudatis, et peculiari scriptione Henrichsen: de Carminibus Cypriis, Hafniae 1828.
4.
mvp-aristotle-comment-172
Ritter, cap. 23 § 4
τοιγαροῦν ἐκ μὲν Ἰλιάδος - Σίνων καὶ Τρωάδες: haec ab aliena manu assuta leguntur, quod paucis ostendere ita conabor ut omnia interpolationis indicia ordine persequar. nam cum ante a vero Aristotele monitum esset, in Homeri Iliade non totum bellum Troianum sed eius particulam tractari, continuo inde explicatur, cur fiat ex Iliade et Odyssea una tragoedia ex utravis vel duae solae: scilicet non multum rerum gestarum (wenig historischen Stoff) illae continent, ideoque nonnisi una fit ex utravis tragoedia. pinguem hanc sententiam falsamque haec admonitio continet, nihil amplius: verba enim et sententiae nexus necessario hanc explicationem suggerunt. sed ut magis offendat semidocti hominis observatio, hoc efficere videtur, quod adhuc Odyssea in huius capitis disputatione ne verbo quidem memorata sed unius Iliadis compositionis virtus laudata est. accedunt duo sermonis vitia, denique tertium nugatoris documentum in paucis illis verbis
τοιγαροῦν ἐκ μὲν Ἰλιάδος καὶ Ὀδυσσείας μία τραγωδία ποιεῖται ἑκατέρας ἢ δύο μόναι. pro
ἐκ μὲν Ἰλιάδος καὶ Ὀδυσσείας verus Aristoteles scripsisset
ἐκ μὲν τῆς Ἰλιάδος καὶ τῆς Ὀδυσσείας. lege quae in genuinis antecedunt,
ὁ τὰ Κύπρια ποιήσας καὶ τὴν μικρὰν Ἰλιάδα. conf. c. 24, 2.
ἡ μὲν Ἰλιὰς ἡ δὲ Ὀδύσσεια. c. 8, 3.
τὴν Ὀδύσσειαν συνέστησεν,
ὁμοίως δὲ καὶ τὴν Ἰλιάδα 1). c. 15, 7.
ἐν τῇ Ἰλιάδι. hanc loquendi • • 1) Ibidem (c. 8, 3) articulus recte abest
Ὀδύσσειαν γὰρ ποιῶν. cf. Comment. ad h. 1. neque articulum requirimus in illis (c. 4, 9)consuetudinem cum in aliis Aristotelis operibus agnoscimus, tum in Rhetoricis et in genuinis Poeticae reliquiis ille tenuit. conf. prae ceteris Rhetor. III, 16., ubi
ὁ ᾿Αλκίνου ἀπόλογος,
ἐν τῷ Οἰνεῖ,
ἐκ τῆς ᾿Αντιγόνης,
ἐν τῷ Οἰδίποδι, et II, 23. (p. 1399 b 25- 1400 b 10)
ἐκ τοῦ Μελεάγρου,
ἐκ τοῦ Αἰαντος,
ἐν τῷ Αἴαντι,
ἐν τῇ Μηδείᾳ.
ΙΙΙ, 2.
ἐν τοῖς Βαβυλωνί οις. conf. II, 24. III, 17. Ethic. Nicom. VII, 3.
οἷον ὁ Σοφοκλέους Νεοπτόλεμος ἐν τῷ Φιλοκτήτῃ. ibid. c. 8.
ὁ Καρκί νου ἐν τῇ ᾿Αλόπη Κερκύων. ibid. VI, 7.
Ὅμηρος ἐν τῷ Μαργίτῃ. ibid.
ΙΧ, 6.
οἱ ἐν ταῖς Φοινίσσαις. de Anima 1,2.
Πλά των ἐν τῷ Τιμαίῳ. – alterum sermonis vitium est quod scripsit
ποιεῖται. ⚫num fortasse conficitur illa una tragoedia, dum iste haec conscribillat? scilicet scribere voluit fieri posse (
ποιεῖται ἂν vel
ἔστι ποιεῖσθαι), aut factam esse (
πεποίηται). sed cur
ἢ δύο μόναι addit ? num incertus erat utrum una an duae tragoediae ex utrovis Homeri poemate conficerentur ? sed tum scripsisset
μία τραγωδία ἢ δύο ποιοῦνται ἑκατέρας: ut nunc verba posita sunt,
ἢ δύο μόναι praecedentium explicationem continent, h. e. insignem paucitatem tragoediarum quae ex tam amplis epopoeiis fiant premunt (oder zwei einzige), ut
ἢ non disiungendi sed explanandi vim habeat. hisce paucis (
δυοῖν μόναις) statim multae illae tragoediae opponuntur quae ex Cypriis et parva Iliade fiunt. veram rei rationem perscrutantibus facile liquebit hanc non fuisse veri Aristotelis sententiam, tamquam Iliadi et Odysseae non multum rerum gestarum subsit, ut paucae inde tragoediae peti possint. immo multae et peti possunt et petitae sunt, verbi causa Aeschyli Myrmidones, Nereides, Phryges (
Ἕκτορος λύτρα), etiam 2)
Ψυχοστασία (quamquam personarum nomina et fata ex Arctini Milesii Aethiopide sumpta erant), Psychagogi, Penelopa, Sophoclis Chryses,
ὁ γὰρ Μαργίτης,
ὥσπερ Ἰλιὰς καὶ Ὀδύσσεια κτλ., neque in his (c. 24, 10)
τὰ ἐν Ὀδυσσεία ἄλογα. 2) Vid. Plutarch. de Audiendis poetis p. 16 F. cf. G. Hermanni Disputatio de Aeschyli Psychostasia p. 10 sq.Phryges, Thamyris, Tyro, Sisyphus, Nausicaa (satyrica), Phaeaces (satyrica), aliaeque aliorum poetarum tragoediae ex eodem hoc fonte uberrimo haustae erant 3). sequuntur illa
ἐκ δὲ Κυπρίων πολλαὶ καὶ τῆς 4)
μικρᾶς Ἰλιάδος πλέον ὀκτώ : utique sibi constat scriptor negligentissimus. primum nobis narrat ex Cypriis multas confici tragoedias et ex parva Iliade plus quam octo. iam hanc habemus gradationem duae solae, multae, plus quam octo. porro pro
πλέον ἢ ὀκτώ vel
ὀκτὼ πλέον hic noster suo more scribit
πλέον ὀκτώ, iam videamus quas tragoedias ex parva Iliade fieri dicat,
ὅπλων κρίσιν,
Φιλοκτήτην,
Νεοπτόλεμον,
Εὐρύπυλον,
πτωχείαν,
Λακαίνας,
Ἰλίου πέρσιν,
ἀπόπλουν,
Σίνωνα,
Τρωάδας. sunt decem fabularum tituli, non octo, quod quomodo explicandum sit in fine huius adnotationis dicetur. sed ipsos titulos consideremus, cum praesertim ad sex priores parvae Iliadis argumenta librorum quattuor priorum ex Proculi Chrestomathiae reliquiis 5) adhibere possimus. quae primo loco comparet
ὅπλων κρίσις, eodem nomine quidem Aeschyli tragoedia et nonnulla eius fragmenta memorantur, sed si cetera considero mox declaranda, interpolator non tam fabulam Aeschyliam quam primi parvae Iliadis libri inscriptionem (
ὅπλων κρίσις) secutus videtur. Proculus enim hoc primi libri summarium exhibet:
ἡ τῶν ὅπλων κρίσις γίνεται,
καὶ Ὀδυσσεὺς κατὰ βούλησιν ᾿Αθηνᾶς λαμβάνει,
Αίας δὲ 3) De Sophocle eius vitae scriptor:
καὶ τὴν Ὀδύσσειαν ἐν πολλοῖς δράμασιν ἀπογράφεται, cet. 4) Vulgo
καὶ ἐκ τῆς μικρᾶς Ἰλιάδος legitur, sed praepositionem iz ab Aldo additam esse inde manifestum fit, quod abest a codicibus AcBcNa et GLQ, neque ex ullo libro scripto nomina-- tim affertur. quod a Mediceis prius ex omitti dicitur, error videtur esse. 5) Excerpta illa praeclara edita sunt in Bibliotheca antiq. litt. et art. Gotting. vol. I., repetita a Gaisfordio (ad Hephaestionem p. 465), Bekkero (ante Ioannis Tzetzae Antehomerica, Homerica et Posthomerica), aliis.
ἐμμανὴς γενόμενος τήν τε λείαν τῶν ᾿Αχαιῶν λυμαίνεται καὶ ἑαυτὸν ἀναιρεῖ. haec omnia
ὅπλων κρίσει falsus Aristoteles comprehendit, fabulas quae re vera exsisterent nihil curando : id enim si fecisset, post
ὅπλων κρίσιν nominare debuit nobilissimi tragoediarum scriptoris
Αἴαντα μαστιγοφόρον, quem hodieque admiramur. sed tragoedias quae erant nihil respiciens alteri loco
Φιλοκτήτην assignat. nimirum Proculus primi libri parvae Iliadis argumentum enarrans pergit:
μετὰ ταῦτα Ὀδυσσεὺς λοχήσας Ἕλενον λαμβάνει,
καὶ χρήσαντος περὶ τῆς ἁλώσεως τούτου Διομήδης ἐκ Λήμνου Φιλοκτήτην ἀνάγει.
ἰαθεὶς δὲ οὗτος ὑπὸ Μαχάονος καὶ μονομαχήσας ᾿Αλεξάνδρῳ κτείνει·
καὶ τὸν νεκρὸν ὑπὸ Μενελάου καταικισθέντα ἀνελόμενοι θάπτουσιν οἱ Τρῶες. ex his neque prima neque postrema multum habent atrocitatis, sed media habent; eo respiciens interpolator
Φιλοκτήτην protulit. vix dubitare licet illam primae rhapsodiae partem parvae Iliadis, qua Philoctetae res gestae et fata narrabantur, eius nomen inscriptum tulisse. si tragoedias vere scriptas respexisset,
Φιλοκτήτην τὸν ἐν Λήμνῳ ab Aeschylo, Sophocle, Euripide aliisque editum et praeterea Sophoclis
τὸν ἐν Τροίᾳ memorare debuit. Proculus ad alteram rhapsodiam progressus refert haec :
μετὰ δὲ ταῦτα Δηΐφοβος Ἑλένην γαμεῖ·
καὶ Νεοπτό λεμον Ὀδυσσεὺς ἐκ Σκύρου ἀγαγὼν τὰ ὅπλα δίδωσι τὰ τοῦ πατρός.
καὶ ᾿Αχιλλεὺς αὐτῷ φαντάζεται. adhuc nihil inest atrocitatis qualem circumspicit falsus auctor: sed Proculus pergit
Εὐρύπυλος δὲ ὁ Τηλέφου ἐπίκουρος τοῖς Τρωσί παραγίνεται,
καὶ ἀριστεύοντα αὐτὸν ἀποκτείνει Νεοπτόλεμος. in his duarum tragoediarum argumenta deprehendere hic noster sibi videbatur, quamquam nonnisi unum inest. ille autem
Ευρύπυλον et
Νεοπτόλεμον fortiter elicuit, hic quoque inscriptiones libri alterius parvae Iliadis, opinor, secutus. quod Nicomachus tragoediam
Νεοπτόλεμον scripsit (cf. Suidas s.
ν.
Νικόμαχος), id nihil huc videtur pertinere. tragoediam
Ευρύπυλον nemo veterum unquam memoravit, neque nobis licet hoc loco fretis litteras Graecas inaudita fabula ditare. tertii summarium hoc Proculus nobiscum communicavit:
καὶ
οἱ Τρῶες πολιορκοῦνται·
καὶ Ἐπειὸς κατ᾿ ᾿Αθηνᾶς προαίρεσιν τὸν δούρειον ἵππον κατασκευάζει. haec (quippe parum inest atrocitatis) interpolator silentio transmisit. pergit Proculus :
Ὀδυσσεὺς δὲ αἰκισάμενος ἑαυτὸν κατάσκοπος εἰς Ἴλιον παραγίνεται,
καὶ ἀναγνωρισθεὶς ὑφ᾽ Ἑλένης περὶ τῆς ἁλώσεως τῆς πόλεως συντίθεται.
κτείνας τέ τινας τῶν Τρώων ἐπὶ τὰς ναῦς ἀφικνεῖται.
καὶ μετὰ ταῦτα σὺν Διομήδει τὸ Παλλά διον ἐκκομίζει ἐκ τῆς Ἰλίου. quod Ulixes sumpto mendici habitu deformis Troiam venit ibique plures occidit (cf. Odyss. 4. 252-264), id ad efficiendam tragoediam rursus sufficere videbatur. dedit igitur
πτωχείαν sive mendicitatem (non mendicationem), quo nomine nunquam poeta Graecus quispiam tragoediam inscribere sustinuit. sed unde rarum hoc nomen sumpsit? hausit ex eodem fonte unde sua omnia sumpsisse illum indicavimus, ex titulis illius carminis partibus suprascriptis. nimirum illa tertii libri particula
πτωχείας nomen gessisse hinc sive verisimile admodum sive manifestum fit. qui sequitur tragoediae index
Λάκαιναι, is ad Palladii ex Troia surreptionem perpatratam ab Ulixe et Diomede, qui fortasse adiuti sunt a Lacaenis Helenae ancillis, videtur pertinere. utrum Sophoclis fabulam
Λακαίνας (unde pauca fragmenta servata sunt) cognitam habuerit an hunc etiam titulum ex eodem illo fonte sumpserit non decerno. septimo loco et octavo iam sequitur
Ἰλίου πέρσις et
ἀπόπλους, h. e.
ἀπόπλους τῶν ᾿Αχαιῶν. ne his quidem nominibus tragoedias Graecorum tragicorum significavit 6). itaque 5) Non temere haec scribo neque nescius eorum quae viri doctissimi, Hermannus in Commentariis ad Poet. p. 162. de tragicis qui
Ἰλίου πέρσιν scripserint, et praecipue Welckerus in Diurnis antiquariis Zimmermanni a. 1831. n. 152. et in Museo Rhenano philolog. tom. V. p. 483 sqq. erudite sane et acute disputaverunt. sed ad id obtinendum quod volo non requiri videtur, ut contrariae meae sententiae rationes longa disputatione promam: nam si
ἀπόπλουν tragoediam non fuisse vel certe nunquam memorari omnes concedunt, nihil sane causae adest cur alteroquarti parvae Iliadis libri partem
ἀπόπλουν et quintum librum
Ἰλίου πέρσιν inscriptum fuisse statuo, quam carminis partem Pausanias peculiari nomine
Ἰλίου πέρσιν saepius vocavit X, 25-27. nam quamquam Proculi summaria nihil de
Ἰλίου πέρσιδι referunt, nihilo minus Leschis carmen ultra equi lignei intra muros Troianos receptionem et Achivorum in Tenedum discessum (ibi subsistit Proculus) productum fuisse certum est et probatum a viris illis egregiis quorum nomina et libros ante laudavi. utrum
ἀπόπλουν intelligam illum simulatum Graecorum ad Tenedum discessum an verum post urbem eversam incertus haereo. sed prius utique praeferendum puto, quamquam sic nomen
ἀπόπλους ante
Ἰλίου πέρσιν ponendum erat. iam habemus octo tragoediarum argumenta sive materiam fabulosam, non tragoedias; apteque illa series concluditur particula
καὶ (
καὶ ἀπόπλους). sed ecce accedunt
Σίνων et
Τρωάδες, quarum prior ante
Ἰλίου πέρσιν ponenda erat, altera ad parvam Iliadem plane non pertinere videtur: nemo certe ultra Ilii excidium quidquam ex parva Iliade commemoravit. haec duo nomina igitur ab _altero interpolatore adiecta esse statuo, qui Sinonem a Sophocle, Troades ab Euripide scriptas esse meminisset. prior igitur interpolator hanc seriem titulorum tragoediarum posuit:
ὅπλων κρίσις,
Φιλοκτήτης,
Νεοπτόλεμος,
Εὐρύπυλος,
πτωχεία,
Λάκαιναι,
Ἰλίου πέρσις καὶ ἀπόπλους. has fere tragoedias aut plures etiam (
πλέον ὀκτώ) ex illa materia mythica confici posse credidit. alter certiora proferre cupiens addidit
καὶ Σίνων καὶ Τρωάδες. iam vides cur septem nomina fabularum sine particula iuxta se posita compareant, illo nomine freti
Ἰλίου πέρσιν tragoediam vindicemus. de alio Poeticae loco (c. 18, 5), unde
Ἰλίου πέρσιν tragoediam falso plures viri docti elicuerunt, in Commentario ad 1. c. diximus. haec ad causam quae iam agitur sufficiunt. alia illa est quaestio, utrum tragoedia
Ἰλίου πέρσις unquam apud Graecos exstiterit nec ne. mihi non exstitisse persuasum est: sed de hac re alias.24. §. 1. 253 tum vero particula
καὶ non semel sed ter adiiciatur:
καὶ ἀπόπλους (hic prior interpolator seriem suam claudit)
καὶ Σίνων καὶ Τρωάδες.
1.
mvp-aristotle-comment-173
Ritter, cap. 24 § 1
Carminis epici formis et partibus breviter enumeratis, Homerum in utrisque praecellere docetur. a tragoedia differre epopoeiam et ambitu et versuum genere. porro propriae quaedam Homeri virtutes indicantur.
ἔτι δὲ τὰ εἴδη - ἔχειν καλῶς: etiam quae hoc capite de epico carmine breviter et carptim monentur, ea cum non tam sua ipsorum causa dicta quam Homeri celebrandi gratia proposita sint, cumque haec ratio longe abhorreat ab ea quam Aristoteles in tragoedia explicanda secutus est (nempe illic poetas nihil curat, genus poesis unice amplectitur), genuinam Aristotelis commentationem ab interpolatore partim in epitomam contractam partim suis quibusdam observationibus dilatatam esse et hinc probabiliter coniici potest et alia indicia commonstrant. statim primum hoc disputationis segmentum fere totum ab auctore personato concinnatum esse tam mira explicandi brevitas quam sententiae ambiguitas argumento est. sed uncis tamen totum segmentum (§. 1) includere nolui, cum technicus non tam sua inculcasse quam Aristotelia male concinnasse videatur.
ἢ γὰρ ἁπλῆν ἢ πεπλεγμένην ἢ ἠθικὴν ἢ παθητικήν: haec codices offerunt qui inspecti sunt et explorati omnes, et hisce ex puris fontibus restitutis, iam facile interpolator et sedulus enarrator (non ille antiquus sed paulo recentior ut videtur) deprehenditur: quippe ad explicanda illa
τὰ εἴδη ταὐτὰ δεῖ ἔχειν τὴν ἐποποιίαν τῇ τραγῳδίᾳ posuit
ἢ γὰρ ἁπλῆν ἢ πεπλεγμένην ἢ ἠθικὴν ἢ παθητι-
κήν, secure respiciens nonnisi casum et genus nominis
ἐποποιίαν, pro more eorum qui glossas adscribunt, non etiam structuram verborum et totius sententiae habitum. Aldus ad obscurandum sermonis vitium aut ipse aut alius corrector Italus
δεῖ εἶναι apposuit, eaque coniectura cum ceteris editoribus, tum Bekkero placuit.
καὶ γὰρ περιπετειῶν δεῖ καὶ ἀναγνωρίσεων καὶ παθημάτων: haec dicta sunt ut adprobarentur quae praecedunt,
τὰ εἴδη ταὐτὰ δεῖ ἔχειν τὴν ἐποποιίαν. conf. c. 10 et 11 et supposita c. 18, 2. epitomator idemque interpolator propter festinationem nonnisi duas formas epopoeiae (
τὴν πεπλεγμένην et
τὴν παθητικήν) nominare voluit, quibus statim in Homeri laudibus ex Aristotele transcribendis uteretur. item quattuor partium quae epico carmini cum tragoedia communes sunt (
μῦθος ἤθη διάνοια λέξις) duas postremas tantummodo nomine citavit in subsequentibus
ἔτι τὰς διανοίας καὶ τὴν λέξιν ἔχειν καλῶς: haec enim pertinent ad illa
καὶ τὰ μέρη ἔξω μελοποιίας καὶ ὄψεως ταὐτά, quamquam nonnisi mancam eorum explicationem exhibent. nonne manifesta epitomatoris vestigia agnoscis? cognosces etiam prius illud colon a nobis in adnotatione antecedente recentiori cuidam interpolatori tributum ab eo profectum esse qui totius loci rationem non perspexisset.
2.
mvp-aristotle-comment-174
Ritter, cap. 24 § 2
οἷς ἅπασιν Ὅμηρος - ἱκανῶς: observare velis, lector, quomodo quae modo generatim explicata sunt non tam propter se ipsa posita sint quam ad declarandam Homeri virtutem praemissa et monita videantur. conf. Praefatio. -
ἀναγνώρισις γὰρ διόλου καὶ ἠθική: ad probandum quod praecedit
πεπλεγμένον accedunt verba
ἀναγνώρισις γὰρ διόλου, non etiam
καὶ ἠθική: nam mores nihil pertinere ad implicationem carminis in aperto est. itaque per adiectum
καὶ ἠθική nova Odysseae indoles significatur.
3.
mvp-aristotle-comment-175
Ritter, cap. 24 § 3
τοῦ μὲν οὖν μήκους ὅρος ἱκανὸς ὁ εἰρημένος: respicit ante a sese dicta c. 7,5 et 6 et c. 23, 3.
εἴη δ᾽ ἂν τοῦτο - παρήκοιεν: haec ab homine inepto stultoque addita sunt. nam ulna epici carminis mensura definitur prorsus contra consuetudinem Aristotelis, et ulna quidem admodum incerta. sane eiusmodi descriptio ambitus nimium absurda est, cum epopoeia quamvis paucis libris composita et ne unius quidem tragoediae mensuram aequans tamen ita facta esse possit, ut unitate plane careat, h. e. ut eius initium et finis mentis oculis comprehendi (
συνορᾶσθαι) non possit, cum rursus quae multis libris constet, nihilo minus ita composita esse possit, ut unitas eius servetur. considera porro quae subsequuntur,
εἰ τῶν μὲν ἀρχαίων ἐλάττους αἱ συστάσεις εἶεν, si antiquis minores poetarum compositiones (poemata epica) sint. num igitur omnium antiquorum poetarum carmina epica nimis magna fuere, etiam Homerica? sane personati Aristotelis ea sententia fuit, ut apparet ex c. 26, 5 et 6., non veri Aristotelis. sed lege quae iam sequuntur,
πρὸς δὲ τὸ πλῆθος τῶν τραγῳδιῶν τῶν εἰς μίαν ἀκρόασιν τιθεμένων παρήκοιεν, ut miram hanc mensurae definitionem perciperemus, ante tragoediarum quae hic respiciuntur ambitum acciperemus oporteret, acciperemus etiam necesse esset quot tragoediae in unam auditionem exponi solerent. utrumque incertum relinquitur. nonnulli ex interpretibus respici trilogias vel tetralogias opinati sunt, sed ea cogitatio prorsus amovenda est. nam primum linguae leges ne id statuamus obstant, cum legamus
εἰς μίαν ἀκρόασιν, non
εἰς μίαν ὄψιν, quorum prius de auditione accipiendum est, non de spectatione. tum si trilogias vel tetralogias admittere velimus, earum quoque plures uno die Athenis agebantur, ut inde carminum epicorum mensura etiam amplior evasura esset, quam in Graecis re vera fuit. sed haud dubie verba
εἰς μίαν ἀκρόασιν de recitatione tragoediarum accipienda sunt, ut igitur interpolator morem quendam praelectionum nobis ignotum, quo semper plures tragoediae ab acroamate recitabantur, respexerit. sed nonne vides quam vaga sit eiusmodi mensura? ille enim mos pro temporibus et locis haud dubie incertus nutavit. qui talia Aristoteli tribuere sustinet, nae is summi viri ingenium male aestimaverit. postremum et summum alieni emblematis indicium est,quod eo sublato tenor explicationis non modo non turbatur, sed egregie adiuvatur.
4.
mvp-aristotle-comment-176
Ritter, cap. 24 § 4
ὑφ᾽ ὧν οἰκείων ὄντων αὔξεται ὁ τοῦ ποιήματος ὄγκος: quibus, si non aliena sunt, augetur poematis abundantia. quae una fieri narrantur
οἰκεῖα sunt, si non abhorrent a primario epopoeiae argumento.
ὄγκος τῆς λέξεως, h. e. dictionis abundantia, eodem intellectu dicitur Rhetor. III, 6. init. et opponitur
τῇ συντομίᾳ τῆς λέξεως.
τὸν ἀκούοντα: quomodocumque sustentaverimus
τὸν ἀκούοντα, stare is recto talo nequit. interpretantur
τὸν ἀκούοντα μεταβάλλειν auditorem varie disponere s. afficere, sed id quo minus probem tria obstant. nam primum
μεταβάλλειν tam nude positum id denotare nequit: immo est mutare auditorem, h. e. aut alii alium substituere aut facere, ut is qui audit alius fiat: utrumque autem a contextu sententiae alienum est. deinde mira prodit structura verborum
μεταβάλλειν τὸν ἀκούοντα καὶ ἐπεισοδιοῦν ἀνομοίοις ἐπει σοδίοις, mutare audientem et distinguere dissimilibus episodiis. quis talia inteligat, praesertim apud antiquos, qui interpunctionis adminiculo carebant? accedit tertium. non ea carminis epici natura est, ut audientem varie afficiat, immo eum aequo quodam animi tenore multo magis tenet quam tragoedia. haec me movent, ut audientem loco moveam motumque conficiendum existimem.
μεταβάλλειν iam neutra (
ουδετέρως) significatione accipiendum est : hoc boni ad magnificentiam inesse epico poemati dicit ut et mutet (h. e. varia proponat) et dissimilibus episodiis ambitum extendat.
ἐπεισοδιοῦν ἀνομοίοις ἐπεισοδ. nihil esse nisi explicationem verbi
μεταβάλλειν ex articulo semel tantum (ante
μεταβάλλειν) posito liquet. sed dicendum restat, unde hunc importune audientem acceperimus. dubitari vix posse videtur ad subsequens
πληροῦν a lectore quodam in margine positum esse
τὸν ἀκούοντα, ne obiectum ei verbo deesset. hinc alius alieno loco audientem infarsit.
5.
mvp-aristotle-comment-177
Ritter, cap. 24 § 5
adhuc expositum est, quomodo epopoeia et cur ambitu suo differret a tragoedia: iam ad alterum utriusquediscrimen, quod in metro positum est accedit.
τὸ γὰρ ἡρωϊκὸν στασιμώτατον καὶ ὀγκωδέστατον τῶν μέτρων ἐστίν: metrum heroum stabilissimum est propterea quod arsis thesisque ratio aequalis est, idemque plenissimum est, quia sex pedibus bene iunctis absolvitur. conf. Rhetor. III, 8.
τῶν δὲ ῥυθμῶν ὁ μὲν ἡρῷος σεμνός.
διὸ καὶ γλώττας - μίμησις τῶν ἄλλων: iterum Crispinus male interturbans. inepte haec adduntur, quia nihil faciunt ad naturam versus heroi, de qua agitur, definiendam, et potius primariam disputationem perturbatam et impeditam reddunt, quae hisce amotis egregie procedit: sed, quod maius est, eadem haec falsa sunt, quia ex Aristotelis sententia poesis epica non glossas et metaphoras potissimum (
μάλιστα) recipit, sed ipsa glossas, dramatica vero metaphoras potissimum amplectitur. lege mihi. c. 22, 10.
τῶν δ᾽ ὀνομάτων τὰ μὲν διπλᾶ μάλιστα ἁρμόττει τοῖς διθυράμβοις,
αἱ δὲ γλῶτται τοῖς ἡρωϊκοῖς,
αἱ δὲ μεταφοραὶ τοῖς ἰαμβείοις. Rhetor. III, 3. p. 1406. b 1. quem locum transcripsimus ad c. 22, 10. pag. 243. mire dicta sunt quae sequuntur,
περιττὴ γὰρ καὶ ἡ διηγηματική μίμησις τῶν ἄλλων, Copiosior enim etiam narrativa imitatio est ceteris; sane summam haec infantiam arguunt.
τὸ δὲ ἰαμβικὸν καὶ τετράμετρον κινητικά·
τὸ μὲν ὀρχηστικόν,
τὸ δὲ πρακτικόν: haec bene et vere exposita quantopere eminent prae suppositiciis modo detectis. similia leguntur in Rhetoricis III, 8.
ὁ δ᾽ ἴαμβος αὐτή ἐστιν ἡ λέξις ἡ τῶν πολλῶν·
διὸ μάλιστα πάντων τῶν μέτρων ἰαμβεῖα φθέγγονται λέγοντες. - -
ὁ δὲ τροχαῖος κορδακικώτερος·
δηλοῖ δὲ τὰ τετράμετρα·
ἔστι γὰρ τροχερὸς ῥυθμὸς τὰ τετράμετρα.
6.
mvp-aristotle-comment-178
Ritter, cap. 24 § 6
ὥσπερ Χαιρήμων: de Chaeremone dictum est ad c. 1, 9.
7.
mvp-aristotle-comment-179
Ritter, cap. 24 § 7
Ὅμηρος δὲ κτλ. nova Homeri laus eo continetur, quod ipse pauca narrando exsequitur sed alios plerumque narrantes et dicentes inducit. conf. c. 4, 9.
οὐκ ἀγνοεῖ ὃ δεῖ ποιεῖν αὐτὸν : quid sit
ποιεῖν αὐτὸς (perse enim ambiguum est), continuo declaratur adiectis
αὐτὸν γὰρ δεῖ τὸν ποιητὴν ἐλάχιστα λέγειν. in his
ὁ ποιητής est is de quo agitur, h. e. poeta epicus.
οἱ μὲν οὖν ἄλλοι κτλ. vituperantur illi poetae quos indicavimus ad c. 23, 3. p. 246.
ἀλλ᾽ ἔχοντα ἤθη: debuit
ἀλλ᾽ ἔχον ἦθος, ut Aldus scripsit refragantibus codicibus, quamquam vel hoc tolerari vix potest post
καὶ οὐδὲν ἀηθές. istud
ἀλλ᾽ ἔχοντα ἤθη nihil est nisi vitiosa periphrasis commatis praecedentis
καὶ οὐδὲν ἀηθές.
8.
mvp-aristotle-comment-180
Ritter, cap. 24 § 8
μᾶλλον δ᾽ ἐνδέχεται ἐν τῇ ἐποποιίᾳ τὸ ἄλογον κτλ. quod ratione caret (
τὸ ἄλογον) in tragoedia admitti fere non licet ¹), magis autem licet in epopoeia, unde sponte consequitur mirum (
τὸ θαυμαστόν) quoque et magis etiam admitti posse in epopoeia, quoniam mirari nascitur potissimum ex causarum ignoratione. sed ad hoc advertere voluit lectorem verbis interpositis
δι' ὃ συμβαίνει μάλιστα τὸ θαυμαστόν, quia paulo post de eo quod mirum est tamquam epopoeiae proprio loquitur. nisi autem lenissimam Hermanni mutationem
δι' ὃ pro
διὸ eiusdemque loci dispositionem adoptaverimus, bona sententia multum corrumpitur. scilicet ante Hermannum legebatur et apud Bekkerum etiamnum legitur et distinguitur
τὸ ἄλογον.
διὸ συμβαίνει μάλιστα τὸ θαυμαστόν,
διὰ τὸ κτλ.
ἐπεὶ τὰ περὶ τὴν Ἕκτορος δίωξιν - ὁ δὲ ἀνα - νεύων: respicit versus Iliadis X. 205-207. similiter Megaclides grammaticus, de quo in scholiis ad h. 1. refertur (apud Bekkerum p. 595 a 42),
Μεγακλείδης πλᾶσμα εἶναί φησι τοῦτο τὸ μονομάχιον·
πῶς γὰρ τοσαύτας μυριάδας νεύματι ᾿Αχιλλεὺς ἀπέστρεφεν; digna sunt etiam quae huc transcribantur verba Hermanni (ex Comment. eius ad h. 1. p. 176): "ac mirum sane et paene incredibile, non solum Graecos in summo discrimine a telis coniiciendis sibi temperasse, sed 1) Conf. c. 15, 7.
ἄλογον δὲ μηδὲν εἶναι ἐν τοῖς πράγμασιν,
εἰ δὲ μή,
ἔξω τῆς τραγωδίας.etiam Achillem concitatissimo cursu ruentem capitis motu id potuisse magno exercitui imperare."
9.
mvp-aristotle-comment-181
Ritter, cap. 24 § 9
ἔστι δὲ τοῦτο παραλογισμός: vera et dextra mendaciorum in epopoeia expromendorum ratio
παραλογισμὸν efficit, et ita quidem efficit ut falsis vera nonnulla admixta proferat. -
τοῦτο δ᾽ ἐστὶ ψεῦδος: non semper hoc falsum est, sed tum falsum est, si prius ex altero quod verum est non ita pendet, ut effectus ex causa; et hoc Aristoteles dicere voluit.
διὸ δή,
ἂν τὸ πρῶτον ψεῦδος –
προσθεῖναι: convertas et distinguas: cur vero, si prius falsum, dum alterum hoc verum est, cogimur ut id (h. e. prius) aut esse aut factum esse adiiciamus ? deprehendas quaeso, lector, interpolatorem et molestum eorum quae proxime praecesserunt enarratorem. scilicet ut quae modo tam breviter quam sapienter monita sunt, ea ne prave lectores accipiant, auctor personatus interrogat: "quid cogit ut, si prius falsum alterum autem verum est, etiam prius esse aut factum esse adiiciamus?" idem continuo respondet: nam quia hoc (alterum) verum esse scimus, etiam prius falsa ratiocinatione pro vero anima nostra accipit. tum adiicit exemplum hoc ex Niptris esse. iam primum aliquis quaesiverit, cur eam explicationem interpolatori potius quam ipsi Aristoteli sua bis enuntiaturo vindicaverim, quae respondeam haec habeo. 1. quae istam quaestionem et responsionem antecedit rei expositio, ea et melius et rectius rem declarandam explicat, quam illo additamento fieri videmus. itaque et interrogatio inepta est et responsio inutilis. porro recte dicit Aristoteles homines opinari, h. e. vulgo sive fere opinari, verum esse prius, si esse alterum sciverint quod post prius accidere soleat: interpolator vero idem necessario fieri falso putat. 2. loquendi ratio commentatorem prodit. pro Aristotelio
πρότερον et
ὕστερον ille ponit
πρῶτον et
ἄλλον, pro
οἴονται ἄνθρωποι admittit
παραλογίζεται ἡμῶν ἡ ψυχή. 3. hanc explicationem, quomodo falsa loqui conveniat, exemplum (
παράδειγμα) perverse appellat, idque ex Niptris petitum esse dicit: scilicethuiusmodi falsa quae descripsit Aristoteles, in Niptris esse, et inde eorum descriptionem sumptam esse dicere voluit. sed restat quo praecipue attendi velim. singulas Iliadis et Odysseae partes et in vita communi et a grammaticis propriis nominibus appellatas esse satis quidem constat; constat etiam eorum nominum nonnulla prius exstitisse, quam disciplina et ars grammatica Alexandriae agitari coepisset, prius exstitisse, quam utriusque carminis divisio in viginti quattuor libros instituta esset. sed nihilo minus ego id confidenter pronuntio, in Niptris referri locum illum Odysseae T. 172-248, ubi Ulixes coram Penelopa multa mendacia veri similia profert, non potuisse, antequam quae nunc libro XIX leguntur secreta a ceteris et in unum coniuncta essent, h. e. antequam Odyssea in viginti quattuor rhapsodias distributa esset. nam quae illic posita sunt a versu 1 usque ad 334, ubi
τὰ νίπτρα (Ulixis lavatio) vere incipiunt, ea nihil per se cohaerent cum lavatione Ulixis. inde consequitur locum illum 172- 248 de quo loquimur tum demum in
Νίπτροις referri potuisse, cum versus illi 604, qui hodie librum undevicesimum efficiunt, in unum librum coniuncti et a loco illo eximio (v. 335- 509) nomine
τῶν Νίπτρων consignati essent. scimus autem divisionem utriusque carminis in viginti quattuor libros quos hodie legimus ab Aristarcho 2) demum institutam esse. itaque ille qui haec interposuit post Aristarchum vixit. Restat ut dicamus de huius loci recte scribendi ratione. quod sub initium codices exhibent,
ἀνάγκη εἶναι ἢ γενέσθαι ἢ προσθεῖναι, in eo neque iustam structuram neque sensum aliquem agnoscere licet: necesse est esse aut factum esse 2) Vid. grammat. de poesi Hom. 2.
εἰσὶν αὐτῷ ποιήσεις δύο,
Ἰλιὰς καὶ Ὀδύσσεια διηρημένη ἑκατέρα εἰς τὸν ἀριθμὸν τῶν στοιχείων,
οὐχ ὑπ᾿ αὐτοῦ τοῦ ποιητοῦ,
ἀλλ᾽ ὑπὸ τῶν γραμματικῶν τῶν περὶ ᾿Αρίσταρχον (h. e. ab ipso Aristarcho, de qua dicendi consuetudine v. Lehrsii Quaest. epic. p. 28. not.). conf. Eustath. p. 5 extr. et Wolfii Frolegom. ad Hom. p. CCLVI. not.aut adiicere, quid hoc est? nihil est. prius
ἢ post vocem
ἀνάγκη in
η exeuntem oblitteratum et deinde alieno loco ante
προσθεῖναι repetitum est. hoc si suo loco redditur, exit et sententia et structura haud inepta, quid cogit (
διὸ ἀνάγκη), ut id esse aut factum esse (mente) adiiciamus? hic nihil durum est nisi obiecti (
τὸ πρῶτον) omissio, quod tamen ex antecedentibus huc trahere licet, et aliquid duritiei huius hominis stilo libenter concedimus. in extremis
παράδειγμα δὲ τοῦτο ἐκ τῶν Νίπτρων optimi quique libri exhibent
τοῦτο, dico AcBc et Mediceos XIV 16 21 et GLPQ, minus boni Na et Mediceus 14
τούτων, ubi
ων exitus ortus est ex subsequentibus
ἐκ τῶν Νίπτρων. Hermannus
τούτου scripsit pro
τοῦτο, eumque secutus est Bekkerus: sed iam non
ἐκ τῶν Νίπτρων sed
ἐν τοῖς Νίπτροις scribi oportuit, quam scribendi licentiam Hermannus coniectura admodum incerta excusare conatus est.
10.
mvp-aristotle-comment-182
Ritter, cap. 24 § 10
haec quoque proferuntur ad Homeri virtutem declarandam, quod magis apparebit, ubi insiticia secreta erunt.
ἀδύνατα εἰκότα: sunt v. gr. illa quae paedagogus Sophocleus de Oreste in certamine Pythico interempto narrat: nam certamina Pythica nondum erant, cum aevum ageret Orestes. vid. Electr. v. 680-763. item
ἀδύνατα εἰκότα illa sunt, quae Virgilius de Aenea Carthaginem delato refert: siquidem Carthago nondum erat, cum Aeneas patriam suam relinqueret. contra
δυνατὰ ἀπίθανα illa sunt quae de Ulixe somno sopito et exposito in Ithacam ab Homero in Odysseae libro XIII narrantur; item talia admitteret qui Achillem occiso Patroclo amico nihilo minus irascentem Agamemnoni et a pugna abstinentem produceret.
ἀλλὰ μάλιστα - Μυσίαν ἥκων: haec Aristoteles ipse non scripsit 3). nimirum ipse, dum scribit
τους τε λόγους μὴ συνίστασθαι ἐκ μερῶν ἀλόγων, carminum epicorum argumenta intelligit et perapte pergit
ὥστε τὸ λέγειν κτλ. sed auctor personatus hanc de argumentis epicis disputatio- 3) Idem hoc intellexit Gruppius in Ariadna p. 555 sq.nem importune interrumpens impotenter revolvitur ad tragoedias et exempla imperite et inepte prolata. primum
ἀλογίας exemplum sumptum est ex Sophoclis Oedipo rege, et tota haec observatio additis nonnullis ex iis quae verus Aristoteles c. 15, 7. monuerat transcripta est. hoc excusat, ut Aristoteles ante excusaverat. sed idem homuncio in iis quae continuo ab ipso inventa sequuntur Sophoclem audet reprehendere, quod is in Electra (v. 680 sqq.) narrantem induxerit, quomodo Orestes in certamine Pythico vitam amiserit, cum ea aetate non essent Pythica certamina. itane vero hoc reprehendi potest? minime. verus Aristoteles sedulum interpolatorem veriora docere potuisset, scilicet quae de illo certamine proferuntur sunt
ἀδύνατα εἰκότα, quae ab Ar. probantur. itaque personatus auctor non solum inique et absurde vituperavit summum poetam sed in ipsius Aristotelis praecepta offendit.
ὁ ἄφωνος ἐκ Τεγέας εἰς τὴν Μυσίαν ἥκων: quis hic fuerit primus docte explicuit Tyrwhittus in adnotatione ad h. 1. scripta. Telephus erat, qui ob caedem cognatorum a se commissam loqui abstinuit antequam lustraretur. vid. Hygini fab. 244. Telephus Herculis filius (occidit) Hippothoum et Nerea aviae suae filios. Athenaeus VI. p. 224 E. X. p. 421 D. Tzetzes ad Lycophr. 206. Stephan. Byzant. s. v.
Οἶος. tragoediam
Μυσούς et Aeschylus et Sophocles docuerunt, et nonnulla utriusque fragmenta exstant. Aeschylia hic intelligi videtur, quamvis proxime duae Sophoclis fabulae commemoratae sint. Telephus intra fabulam talis qualem significat interpolator ostendi poterat, ut primum spectatoribus Tegeae versatus, deinde in Mysiam profectus repraesentaretur. duo alia restant indicia quibus haec pro falsis convincantur. primum est articuli omissio (
ἐν Ἠλέκτρᾳ,
ἐν Μυσοῖς) grammaticorum propria, ab Aristotelis scribendi consuetudine aliena. conf. nota ad c. 23, 4. alterum indicium est quod haec ex parte c. 25, 17. repetuntur. interpolator enim opes suas adeo amavit, ut eas bis propinare ac venditare gestiret.
ἂν δὲ θῇ: subintelligendum
τὸ ἄτοπον ὁ ποιητής.
ἐπεὶ καὶ τὰ ἐν Ὀδυσσείᾳ ἄλογα –
ἡδύνων τὸ ἄτοπον: significat Odysseae N. 70-125, in hisce prudentissimi viri integrum iudicium quaeso agnoscas, articulus ante
Ὀδυσσείᾳ hic recte abest: non enim indicare voluit quaecumque
ἄλογα inessent Odysseae, sed singularia illa ad expositionem Ulixis pertinentia.
11.
mvp-aristotle-comment-183
Ritter, cap. 24 § 11
πάλιν: est quod Latini dicunt rursus, Theotisci andrer Seits. cf. c. 6, 3.
