AristotleÕs Poetics, parts IV-XV
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Part IV Poetry either tragic or comic
Poetry in general seems to have sprung from two causes, each
of them lying deep in our nature. First, the instinct of imitation is
implanted in man from childhood, one
difference between him and other animals being that he is the most imitative of
living creatures, and through imitation learns his earliest lessons; and no
less universal is the pleasure felt in things imitated. We have evidence of this in the facts of
experience. Objects which in themselves we view with pain, we delight to
contemplate when reproduced with minute fidelity: such as the forms of the most
ignoble animals and of dead bodies. The cause of this again is, that to learn
gives the liveliest pleasure, not only to philosophers but to men in general;
whose capacity, however, of learning is more limited. Thus the reason why men
enjoy seeing a likeness is, that in contemplating it they find themselves
learning or inferring, and saying perhaps, 'Ah, that is he.' For if you happen
not to have seen the original, the pleasure will be due not to the imitation as
such, but to the execution, the coloring, or some such other cause.
Imitation, then, is one instinct of our nature. Next, there
is the instinct for 'harmony' and rhythm, meters being manifestly sections of
rhythm. Persons, therefore, starting with this natural gift developed by
degrees their special aptitudes, till their rude improvisations gave birth to
Poetry.
Poetry now diverged in two directions, according to the individual character of the
writers. The graver spirits imitated noble actions, and the actions
of good men. The more trivial
sort imitated the actions of meaner persons,
at first composing satires, as the former did hymns to the gods and the praises
of famous men. A poem of the satirical kind cannot indeed be put down to any
author earlier than Homer; though many such writers probably there were. But
from Homer onward, instances can be cited- his own Margites, for example, and
other similar compositions. The appropriate meter was also here introduced;
hence the measure is still called the iambic or lampooning measure, being that
in which people lampooned one another. Thus the older poets were distinguished
as writers of heroic or of lampooning verse.
As, in the serious style, Homer is pre-eminent among poets,
for he alone combined dramatic form with excellence of imitation so he too
first laid down the main lines of comedy, by dramatizing the ludicrous instead
of writing personal satire. His Margites bears the same relation to comedy that
the Iliad and Odyssey do to tragedy. But when Tragedy and Comedy came to light,
the two classes of poets still followed their natural bent: the lampooners
became writers of Comedy, and the Epic poets were succeeded by Tragedians,
since the drama was a larger and higher form of art.
Whether Tragedy has as yet perfected its proper types or
not; and whether it is to be judged in itself, or in relation also to the
audience- this raises another question. Be that as it may, Tragedy- as also
Comedy- was at first mere improvisation.
The one originated with the authors of the Dithyramb, the other with those of
the phallic songs, which are still in use in many of our cities. Tragedy
advanced by slow degrees; each new element that showed itself was in turn
developed. Having passed through many changes, it found its natural form, and
there it stopped.
Aeschylus first introduced a second actor; he diminished the importance of the Chorus, and
assigned the leading part to the dialogue. Sophocles raised the
number of actors to three, and added scene-painting. Moreover, it was not till late that the short plot was discarded for
one of greater compass, and the grotesque diction of the earlier satyric form
for the stately manner of Tragedy. The iambic measure then replaced the
trochaic tetrameter, which was originally employed when the poetry was of the
satyric order, and had greater with dancing. Once dialogue had come in, Nature
herself discovered the appropriate measure. For the iambic is, of all
measures, the most colloquial we see it in
the fact that conversational speech runs into iambic lines more frequently than
into any other kind of verse; rarely into hexameters, and only when we drop the
colloquial intonation. The additions to the number of 'episodes' or acts, and
the other accessories of which tradition tells, must be taken as already
described; for to discuss them in detail would, doubtless, be a large undertaking.
Part V Comedy and Epic Poetry
Comedy is, as we
have said, an imitation of characters of a lower type- not, however, in the
full sense of the word bad, the ludicrous being merely a subdivision of the
ugly. It consists in some defect or ugliness which is not painful or
destructive. To take an obvious example, the comic mask is ugly and distorted,
but does not imply pain.
The successive changes through which Tragedy passed, and the
authors of these changes, are well known, whereas Comedy has had no history, because it was not at first treated seriously. It
was late before the Archon granted a comic chorus to a poet; the performers
were till then voluntary. Comedy had already taken definite shape when comic
poets, distinctively so called, are heard of. Who furnished it with masks, or
prologues, or increased the number of actors- these and other similar details
remain unknown. As for the plot, it came originally from Sicily; but of
Athenian writers Crates was the
first who abandoning the 'iambic' or lampooning form, generalized his
themes and plots.
Epic poetry agrees with Tragedy in so far as it is an
imitation in verse of characters of a higher type. They differ in that Epic
poetry admits but one kind of meter and is narrative in form. They differ,
again, in their length: for Tragedy endeavors, as far as possible, to confine
itself to a single revolution of the sun, or but slightly to exceed this limit,
whereas the Epic action has no limits of time. This, then, is a second point of
difference; though at first the same freedom was admitted in Tragedy as in Epic
poetry.
Of their constituent parts some are common to both, some
peculiar to Tragedy: whoever, therefore knows what is good or bad Tragedy,
knows also about Epic poetry. All the elements of an Epic poem are found in
Tragedy, but the elements of a Tragedy are not all found in the Epic poem.
Part VI Definition of tragedy and six elements of drama
Of the poetry which imitates in hexameter verse, and of
Comedy, we will speak hereafter. Let us now discuss Tragedy, resuming its
formal definition, as resulting from what has been already said.
Tragedy, then, is an imitation of an action that is serious,
complete, and of a certain magnitude; in language embellished with each kind of
artistic ornament, the several kinds being found in separate parts of the play;
in the form of action, not of narrative; through pity and fear effecting the
proper purgation of these emotions. By 'language embellished,' I mean language
into which rhythm, 'harmony' and song enter. By 'the several kinds in separate
parts,' I mean, that some parts are rendered through the medium of verse alone,
others again with the aid of song.
Now as tragic imitation implies persons acting, it
necessarily follows in the first place, that Spectacular equipment will be a
part of Tragedy. Next, Song and Diction, for these are the media of imitation.
By 'Diction' I mean the mere metrical arrangement of the words: as for 'Song,'
it is a term whose sense every one understands.
Again, Tragedy is the imitation of an action; and an action
implies personal agents, who necessarily possess certain distinctive qualities
both of character and thought; for it is by these that we qualify actions
themselves, and these- thought and character- are the two natural causes from
which actions spring, and on actions again all success or failure depends.
Hence, the Plot is the imitation of the action- for by plot I here mean the
arrangement of the incidents. By Character I mean that in virtue of which we
ascribe certain qualities to the agents. Thought is required wherever a
statement is proved, or, it may be, a general truth enunciated. Every Tragedy,
therefore, must have six parts, which parts determine its quality- namely, Plot,
Character, Diction, Thought, Spectacle, Song.
Two of the parts constitute the medium of imitation, one the manner, and three
the objects of imitation. And these complete the fist. These elements have been
employed, we may say, by the poets to a man; in fact, every play contains
Spectacular elements as well as Character, Plot, Diction, Song, and Thought.
But most important of all is the structure of the incidents.
For Tragedy is an imitation, not of men, but of an action and of life, and life
consists in action, and its end is a mode of action, not a quality. Now
character determines men's qualities, but it is by their actions that they are
happy or the reverse. Dramatic action, therefore, is not with a view to the
representation of character: character comes in as subsidiary to the actions.
Hence the incidents and the plot are the end of a tragedy; and the end is the
chief thing of all. Again, without action there cannot be a tragedy; there may
be without character. The tragedies of most of our modern poets fail in the
rendering of character; and of poets in general this is often true. It is the
same in painting; and here lies the difference between Zeuxis and Polygnotus.
Polygnotus delineates character well; the style of Zeuxis is devoid of ethical
quality. Again, if you string together a set of speeches expressive of
character, and well finished in point of diction and thought, you will not
produce the essential tragic effect nearly so well as with a play which,
however deficient in these respects, yet has a plot and artistically
constructed incidents. Besides which, the most powerful elements of emotional
interest in Tragedy- Peripeteia or Reversal of the Situation, and Recognition
scenes- are parts of the plot. A further proof is, that novices in the art
attain to finish of diction and precision of portraiture before they can
construct the plot. It is the same with almost all the early poets.
The plot, then, is the first principle, and, as it were, the
soul of a tragedy; Character holds the second place. A similar fact is seen in
painting. The most beautiful colors, laid on confusedly, will not give as much
pleasure as the chalk outline of a portrait. Thus Tragedy is the imitation of
an action, and of the agents mainly with a view to the action.
Third in order is Thought- that is, the faculty of saying
what is possible and pertinent in given circumstances. In the case of oratory,
this is the function of the political art and of the art of rhetoric: and so
indeed the older poets make their characters speak the language of civic life;
the poets of our time, the language of the rhetoricians. Character is that
which reveals moral purpose, showing what kind of things a man chooses or
avoids. Speeches, therefore, which do not make this manifest, or in which the
speaker does not choose or avoid anything whatever, are not expressive of
character. Thought, on the other hand, is found where something is proved to be
or not to be, or a general maxim is enunciated.
Fourth among the elements enumerated comes Diction; by which
I mean, as has been already said, the expression of the meaning in words; and
its essence is the same both in verse and prose.
Of the remaining elements Song holds the chief place among
the embellishments
The Spectacle has, indeed, an emotional attraction of its
own, but, of all the parts, it is the least artistic, and connected least with
the art of poetry. For the power of Tragedy, we may be sure, is felt even apart
from representation and actors. Besides, the production of spectacular effects
depends more on the art of the stage machinist than on that of the poet.
Part VII Plot
These principles being established, let us now discuss the
proper structure of the Plot, since this is the first and most important thing
in Tragedy.
Now, according to our definition Tragedy is an imitation of
an action that is complete, and whole, and of a certain magnitude; for there
may be a whole that is wanting in magnitude. A whole is that which has a beginning,
a middle, and an end. A beginning is that
which does not itself follow anything by causal necessity, but after which
something naturally is or comes to be. An end, on the contrary, is that which
itself naturally follows some other thing, either by necessity, or as a rule,
but has nothing following it. A middle is that which follows something as some
other thing follows it. A well constructed plot, therefore, must neither begin
nor end at haphazard, but conform to these principles.
Again, a beautiful object, whether it be a living organism
or any whole composed of parts, must not only have an orderly arrangement of
parts, but must also be of a certain magnitude; for beauty depends on magnitude
and order. Hence a very small animal organism cannot be beautiful; for the view
of it is confused, the object being seen in an almost imperceptible moment of
time. Nor, again, can one of vast size be beautiful; for as the eye cannot take
it all in at once, the unity and sense of the whole is lost for the spectator;
as for instance if there were one a thousand miles long. As, therefore, in the
case of animate bodies and organisms a certain magnitude is necessary, and a
magnitude which may be easily embraced in one view; so in the plot, a certain
length is necessary, and a length which can be easily embraced by the memory.
The limit of length in relation to dramatic competition and sensuous
presentment is no part of artistic theory. For had it been the rule for a
hundred tragedies to compete together, the performance would have been
regulated by the water-clock- as indeed we are told was formerly done. But the
limit as fixed by the nature of the drama itself is this: the greater the
length, the more beautiful will the piece be by reason of its size, provided
that the whole be perspicuous. And to define the matter roughly, we may say
that the proper magnitude is comprised within such limits, that the sequence of
events, according to the law of probability or necessity, will admit of a
change from bad fortune to good, or from good fortune to bad.
Part VIII Unity of plot
Unity of plot does not, as some persons think, consist in
the unity of the hero. For infinitely various are the incidents in one man's
life which cannot be reduced to unity; and so, too, there are many actions of
one man out of which we cannot make one action. Hence the error, as it appears,
of all poets who have composed a Heracleid, a Theseid, or other poems of the
kind. They imagine that as Heracles was one man, the story of Heracles must
also be a unity. But Homer, as in all else he is of surpassing merit, here too-
whether from art or natural genius- seems to have happily discerned the truth.
In composing the Odyssey he did not include all the adventures of Odysseus-
such as his wound on Parnassus, or his feigned madness at the mustering of the
host- incidents between which there was no necessary or probable connection:
but he made the Odyssey, and likewise the Iliad, to center round an action that
in our sense of the word is one. As therefore, in the other imitative arts, the
imitation is one when the object imitated is one, so the plot, being an imitation
of an action, must imitate one action and that a whole, the structural union of
the parts being such that, if any one of them is displaced or removed, the
whole will be disjointed and disturbed. For a thing whose presence or absence
makes no visible difference, is not an organic part of the whole.
Part IX Probability in plots
It is, moreover, evident from what has been said, that it is
not the function of the poet to relate what has happened, but what may happen-
what is possible according to the law of probability or necessity. The poet and
the historian differ not by writing in verse or in prose. The work of Herodotus
might be put into verse, and it would still be a species of history, with meter
no less than without it. The true difference is that one relates what has
happened, the other what may happen. Poetry, therefore, is a more philosophical
and a higher thing than history: for poetry tends to express the universal,
history the particular. By the universal I mean how a person of a certain type
on occasion speak or act, according to the law of probability or necessity; and
it is this universality at which poetry aims in the names she attaches to the
personages. The particular is- for example- what Alcibiades did or suffered. In
Comedy this is already apparent: for here the poet first constructs the plot on
the lines of probability, and then inserts characteristic names- unlike the
lampooners who write about particular individuals. But tragedians still keep to
real names, the reason being that what is possible is credible: what has not
happened we do not at once feel sure to be possible; but what has happened is
manifestly possible: otherwise it would not have happened. Still there are even
some tragedies in which there are only one or two well-known names, the rest
being fictitious. In others, none are well known- as in Agathon's Antheus,
where incidents and names alike are fictitious, and yet they give none the less
pleasure. We must not, therefore, at all costs keep to the received legends,
which are the usual subjects of Tragedy. Indeed, it would be absurd to attempt
it; for even subjects that are known are known only to a few, and yet give
pleasure to all. It clearly follows that the poet or 'maker' should be the
maker of plots rather than of verses; since he is a poet because he imitates,
and what he imitates are actions. And even if he chances to take a historical
subject, he is none the less a poet; for there is no reason why some events
that have actually happened should not conform to the law of the probable and
possible, and in virtue of that quality in them he is their poet or maker.
Of all plots and actions the episodic are the worst. I call
a plot 'episodic' in which the episodes or acts succeed one another without
probable or necessary sequence. Bad poets compose such pieces by their own
fault, good poets, to please the players; for, as they write show pieces for
competition, they stretch the plot beyond its capacity, and are often forced to
break the natural continuity.
But again, Tragedy is an imitation not only of a complete
action, but of events inspiring fear or pity. Such an effect is best produced
when the events come on us by surprise; and the effect is heightened when, at
the same time, they follows as cause and effect. The tragic wonder will then be
greater than if they happened of themselves or by accident; for even
coincidences are most striking when they have an air of design. We may instance
the statue of Mitys at Argos, which fell upon his murderer while he was a
spectator at a festival, and killed him. Such events seem not to be due to mere
chance. Plots, therefore, constructed on these principles are necessarily the
best.
Part X Simple vs. Complex Plots
Plots are either Simple or Complex, for the actions in real
life, of which the plots are an imitation, obviously show a similar
distinction. An action which is one and continuous in the sense above defined,
I call Simple, when the change of fortune takes place without Reversal of the
Situation and without Recognition
A Complex action is one in which the change is accompanied
by such Reversal, or by Recognition, or by both. These last should arise from
the internal structure of the plot, so that what follows should be the
necessary or probable result of the preceding action. It makes all the
difference whether any given event is a case of propter hoc or post hoc.
Part XI
Reversal (Peripety) and Recognition (Anagnorisis)
Reversal of the Situation is a change by which the action
veers round to its opposite, subject always to our rule of probability or
necessity. Thus in the Oedipus, the messenger comes to cheer Oedipus and free
him from his alarms about his mother, but by revealing who he is, he produces
the opposite effect. Again in the Lynceus, Lynceus is being led away to his
death, and Danaus goes with him, meaning to slay him; but the outcome of the
preceding incidents is that Danaus is killed and Lynceus saved.
Recognition, as the name indicates, is a change from
ignorance to knowledge, producing love or hate between the persons destined by
the poet for good or bad fortune. The best form of recognition is coincident
with a Reversal of the Situation, as in the Oedipus. There are indeed other
forms. Even inanimate things of the most trivial kind may in a sense be objects
of recognition. Again, we may recognize or discover whether a person has done a
thing or not. But the recognition which is most intimately connected with the
plot and action is, as we have said, the recognition of persons. This
recognition, combined with Reversal, will produce either pity or fear; and
actions producing these effects are those which, by our definition, Tragedy
represents. Moreover, it is upon such situations that the issues of good or bad
fortune will depend. Recognition, then, being between persons, it may happen
that one person only is recognized by the other- when the latter is already
known- or it may be necessary that the recognition should be on both sides.
Thus Iphigenia is revealed to Orestes by the sending of the letter; but another
act of recognition is required to make Orestes known to Iphigenia.
Two parts, then, of the Plot- Reversal of the Situation and
Recognition- turn upon surprises. A third part is the Scene of Suffering. The
Scene of Suffering is a destructive or painful action, such as death on the
stage, bodily agony, wounds, and the like.
Part XII Structural parts of tragedy
The parts of Tragedy which must be treated as elements of
the whole have been already mentioned. We now come to the quantitative parts-
the separate parts into which Tragedy is divided- namely, Prologue, Episode,
Exode, Choric song; this last being divided into Parode and Stasimon. These are
common to all plays: peculiar to some are the songs of actors from the stage
and the Commoi.
The Prologue is that
entire part of a tragedy which precedes the Parode of the Chorus. The Episode is that entire part of a tragedy which is between complete choric
songs. The Exode is that entire
part of a tragedy which has no choric song after it. Of the Choric
part the Parode is the first undivided
utterance of the Chorus: the Stasimon is a Choric ode without anapaests or
trochaic tetrameters: the Commos is a joint lamentation of Chorus and actors.
The parts of Tragedy which must be treated as elements of the whole have been
already mentioned. The quantitative parts- the separate parts into which it is
divided- are here enumerated.
Part XIII Catharsis; single vs. double plots
As the sequel to what has already been said, we must proceed
to consider what the poet should aim at, and what he should avoid, in
constructing his plots; and by what means the specific effect of Tragedy will
be produced.
A perfect tragedy should, as we have seen, be arranged not
on the simple but on the complex plan. It should, moreover, imitate actions
which excite pity and fear, this being the distinctive mark of tragic imitation. It follows plainly, in the first place, that the
change of fortune presented must not be the spectacle of a virtuous man brought
from prosperity to adversity: for this moves neither pity nor fear; it merely
shocks us. Nor, again, that of a bad man passing from adversity to prosperity:
for nothing can be more alien to the spirit of Tragedy; it possesses no single
tragic quality; it neither satisfies the moral sense nor calls forth pity or
fear. Nor, again, should the downfall of the utter villain be exhibited. A plot
of this kind would, doubtless, satisfy the moral sense, but it would inspire
neither pity nor fear; for pity is aroused by unmerited misfortune, fear by the
misfortune of a man like ourselves. Such an event, therefore, will be neither
pitiful nor terrible. There remains, then, the character between these two
extremes- that of a man who is not eminently good and just, yet whose
misfortune is brought about not by vice or depravity, but by some error or
frailty. He must be one who is highly renowned and prosperous- a personage like
Oedipus, Thyestes, or other illustrious men of such families.
A well-constructed plot should, therefore, be single in its
issue, rather than double as some maintain. The change of fortune should be not
from bad to good, but, reversely, from good to bad. It should come about as the
result not of vice, but of some great error or frailty, in a character either
such as we have described, or better rather than worse. The practice of the
stage bears out our view. At first the poets recounted any legend that came in
their way. Now, the best tragedies are founded on the story of a few houses- on
the fortunes of Alcmaeon, Oedipus, Orestes, Meleager, Thyestes, Telephus, and
those others who have done or suffered something terrible. A tragedy, then, to
be perfect according to the rules of art should be of this construction. Hence
they are in error who censure Euripides just because he follows this principle
in his plays, many of which end unhappily. It is, as we have said, the right
ending. The best proof is that on the stage and in dramatic competition, such
plays, if well worked out, are the most tragic in effect; and Euripides, faulty
though he may be in the general management of his subject, yet is felt to be
the most tragic of the poets.
In the second rank comes the kind of tragedy which some
place first. Like the Odyssey, it has a double thread of plot, and also an
opposite catastrophe for the good and for the bad. It is accounted the best
because of the weakness of the spectators; for the poet is guided in what he
writes by the wishes of his audience. The pleasure, however, thence derived is
not the true tragic pleasure. It is proper rather to Comedy, where those who,
in the piece, are the deadliest enemies- like Orestes and Aegisthus- quit the
stage as friends at the close, and no one slays or is slain.
Part XIV Catharsis arises from events
Fear and pity may be aroused by spectacular means; but they
may also result from the inner structure of the piece, which is the better way,
and indicates a superior poet. For the plot ought to be so constructed that,
even without the aid of the eye, he who hears the tale told will thrill with
horror and melt to pity at what takes Place. This is the impression we should
receive from hearing the story of the Oedipus. But to produce this effect by
the mere spectacle is a less artistic method, and dependent on extraneous aids.
Those who employ spectacular means to create a sense not of the terrible but
only of the monstrous, are strangers to the purpose of Tragedy; for we must not
demand of Tragedy any and every kind of pleasure, but only that which is proper
to it. And since the pleasure which the poet should afford is that which comes
from pity and fear through imitation, it is evident that this quality must be
impressed upon the incidents.
Let us then determine what are the circumstances which
strike us as terrible or pitiful.
Actions capable of this effect must happen between persons
who are either friends or enemies or indifferent to one another. If an enemy
kills an enemy, there is nothing to excite pity either in the act or the
intention- except so far as the suffering in itself is pitiful. So again with
indifferent persons. But when the tragic incident occurs between those who are
near or dear to one another- if, for example, a brother kills, or intends to
kill, a brother, a son his father, a mother her son, a son his mother, or any
other deed of the kind is done- these are the situations to be looked for by
the poet. He may not indeed destroy the framework of the received legends- the
fact, for instance, that Clytemnestra was slain by Orestes and Eriphyle by
Alcmaeon- but he ought to show of his own, and skilfully handle the
traditional. material. Let us explain more clearly what is meant by skilful
handling.
The action may be done consciously and with knowledge of the
persons, in the manner of the older poets. It is thus too that Euripides makes
Medea slay her children. Or, again, the deed of horror may be done, but done in
ignorance, and the tie of kinship or friendship be discovered afterwards. The
Oedipus of Sophocles is an example. Here, indeed, the incident is outside the
drama proper; but cases occur where it falls within the action of the play: one
may cite the Alcmaeon of Astydamas, or Telegonus in the Wounded Odysseus.
Again, there is a third case- [to be about to act with knowledge of the persons
and then not to act. The fourth case] is when some one is about to do an
irreparable deed through ignorance, and makes the discovery before it is done.
These are the only possible ways. For the deed must either be done or not done-
and that wittingly or unwittingly. But of all these ways, to be about to act knowing
the persons, and then not to act, is the worst. It is shocking without being
tragic, for no disaster follows It is, therefore, never, or very rarely, found
in poetry. One instance, however, is in the Antigone, where Haemon threatens to
kill Creon. The next and better way is that the deed should be perpetrated.
Still better, that it should be perpetrated in ignorance, and the discovery
made afterwards. There is then nothing to shock us, while the discovery
produces a startling effect. The last case is the best, as when in the
Cresphontes Merope is about to slay her son, but, recognizing who he is, spares
his life. So in the Iphigenia, the sister recognizes the brother just in time.
Again in the Helle, the son recognizes the mother when on the point of giving
her up. This, then, is why a few families only, as has been already observed,
furnish the subjects of tragedy. It was not art, but happy chance, that led the
poets in search of subjects to impress the tragic quality upon their plots.
They are compelled, therefore, to have recourse to those houses whose history
contains moving incidents like these.
Enough has now been said concerning the structure of the
incidents, and the right kind of plot.
Part XV Character
In respect of Character there are four things to be aimed
at. First, and most important, it must be good. Now any speech or action that manifests moral purpose of any kind
will be expressive of character: the character will be good if the purpose is
good. This rule is relative to each class. Even a woman may be good, and also a
slave; though the woman may be said to be an inferior being, and the slave
quite worthless. The second thing to aim at is propriety. There is a type of manly valor; but valor in a
woman, or unscrupulous cleverness is inappropriate. Thirdly, character must be true
to life: for this is a distinct thing from
goodness and propriety, as here described. The fourth point is consistency: for though the subject of the imitation, who
suggested the type, be inconsistent, still he must be consistently
inconsistent. As an example of motiveless degradation of character, we have
Menelaus in the Orestes; of character indecorous and inappropriate, the lament
of Odysseus in the Scylla, and the speech of Melanippe; of inconsistency, the
Iphigenia at Aulis- for Iphigenia the suppliant in no way resembles her later
self.
As in the structure of the plot, so too in the portraiture
of character, the poet should always aim either at the necessary or the
probable. Thus a person of a given
character should speak or act in a given way, by the rule either of necessity
or of probability; just as this event should follow that by necessary or
probable sequence. It is therefore evident that the unraveling of the plot, no
less than the complication, must arise out of the plot itself, it must not be
brought about by the Deus ex Machina- as in the Medea, or in the return of the Greeks in the Iliad. The
Deus ex Machina should be employed only for events external to the drama- for
antecedent or subsequent events, which lie beyond the range of human knowledge,
and which require to be reported or foretold; for to the gods we ascribe the
power of seeing all things. Within the action there must be nothing irrational.
If the irrational cannot be excluded, it should be outside the scope of the
tragedy. Such is the irrational element the Oedipus of Sophocles.
Again, since Tragedy is an imitation of persons who are
above the common level, the example of good portrait painters should be
followed. They, while reproducing the distinctive form of the original, make a
likeness which is true to life and yet more beautiful. So too the poet, in
representing men who are irascible or indolent, or have other defects of
character, should preserve the type and yet ennoble it. In this way Achilles is
portrayed by Agathon and Homer.
These then are rules the poet should observe. Nor should he neglect those appeals to the senses, which, though not among the essentials, are the concomitants of poetry; for here too there is much room for error. But of this enough has been said in our published treatises.