Pa/ c77 CORNELL UNIVERSITY LIBRARY Cornell University Library PN 1924.C77 An Aristotelian theory of comedy, with an 3 1924 005 888 213 The original of this book is in the Cornell University Library. There are no known copyright restrictions in the United States on the use of the text. http://www.archive.org/details/cu31924005888213 AN ARISTOTELIAN THEORY OF COMEDY WITH AN ADAPTATION OF THE POETICS AND A TRANSLATION OF THE ' TRACTATUS COISLINIANUS ' BY LANE COOPER PROFESSOR OF THE ENGLISH LANGUAGE AND LITERATURE IN CORNELL UNIVERSITY NEW YORK liARCOURT, BRACE AND COMPANY 1922 PA/ C77 A ,^3>S"^7 PRINTED IN GERMANY BY R. WAliNER SOHN, WEIMAR The expense of publishing this volume was in part borne by a grant from the Heckscher Foundation for the Advancement of Research, established by August Heckscher at Cornell University. TO EDWARD KENNARD RAND PROFESSOR OF LATIN IN HARVARD UNIVERSITY PREFACE This book has a primary aim in general, and a secon- dary aim in part. First of all, as a companion-volume to my ' Amplified Version ' of Aristotle On the Art of Poetry, it is intended to be useful to the general student of literature. As the Poetics of Aristotle helps one to understand Greek tragedy and the epic poem, and, if employed with care, modern tragedy and the serious novel, so, it is hoped, the present volume will help college students and others to understand comedies, in particular those dramas that have in them something of the Aristophanic type ; and to help in that under- standing, not by an elaborate investigation of origins, and not with regard to dramatic structure (so-called) apart from the design of the comic poet to affect his audience, but directly and with reference to that design. The work is practical, then, in its aim to serve students of ' English ' and the like. It is offered to the public by one who actually believes in utilizing the riches of the ancient classics for the direct benefit of contempo- rary life and culture. That the Poetics is useful — not merely interesting in historical perspective — needs no demonstration to those who have employed it with classes in the ancient and modern drama. I can only hope that my ' Aristotelian ' theory of comedy may prove useful in the same way, if not in the same measure. In essential aspects, the comic drama, and especially viii PREFACE that of Aristophanes, is baffling to modern students. To judge from my own experience, there has hitherto been no really serviceable theory of it at the disposal of teachers of literature. And, whatever the value attaching to the rest of my book, I have at least made accessible to classes in the drama and in literary types the Tractatus Coislinicmus, which, schematic though it be, is by all odds the most important technical treatise on comedy that has come down to us from the ancients. And modern times give us nothing of comparable worth in its field. My practical aim in turning the usually inviolable classics to account will be an excuse, I hope, for a rather drastic manipulation of the Poetics. But no doubt I should apologize for this to classical scholars, since my work is also partly intended for them, and since else- where in my work (as here and there in the Introduction) I have had to reckon at some length with scholarly opinions that are at variance with my own. The con- cession to a scholarly purpose, I am aware, has brought into the volume an amount of argument and citation that does not promote the aim of direct utility to less mature students. But I could not in these days of costly printing publish two books, one for classical scholars, and the other for a more popular sort of audience ; very reluctantly I omit an appendix of critical Greek passages (including the text of the Trac- tatus Coislinianus) which in more auspicious times would have formed a part of the volume. As matters stand, the teacher who wishes to do so can easily save his pupils from undue attention to historical, textual, or bibliographical minutiae ; after directing them to some of the earlier sections of the Introduction, he may send them to the material taken or adapted from PREFACE ix Plato and Aristotle, and to the Tractatus Coislinianus. To the technical scholar I may say that the section called Aristotle and Aristophanes, in the Introduction, and the remarks on comic dancing and on the ' parts of dianoia,' included under the Tractate, are the chief novel contributions, if there are any in the volume, to special scholarship. I have entitled the volume An Aristotelian Theory of Comedy for reasons suggested in the Introduction, and have indeed included everything I could find in Aristotle, in his teacher Plato, or in his successors, that might aid us in reconstructing his views on comedy. At times I have been content to gather materials for some one in the future who may be more successful in abstraction and synthesis than I, or to let them reveal their meaning without compulsion. As for the Trac- tatus Coislinianus, having throughout maintained an attitude of caution regarding its provenience, I am yet warranted by the mere frequency of its discussion by scholars in treating it as a part of the Aristotelian tradition. The notion of bringing such materials together, and of attempting to construct a theory of comedy from them, came to me some years ago — before I had exam- ined Bernays' Ergdnzung zu Aristoteles' Poetik. The execution of the plan demanded a happy interval for the imaginative effort necessary to comprehend the details in a single view, and to rearrange them, duly subordinating some, and emphasizing others in an ideal outline sketch. The elaboration of the plan demanded abundant leisure. Such effort and elaboration might result either in the reconstruction of a theory once existing in the past, or perhaps in a new synthesis that would harmonize with a great tradition. Instead of x PREFACE uninterrupted leisure and good spirits for this delicate work, I have experienced initial delay and constant interruption from a physical disability that prevented anything like continuous application at a desk, and latterly I have forced the labor through, during partial respites, in order to begin other tasks that have arisen, and must also, if possible, be brought to a conclusion in this fleeting life. But I must not lament over a work that has not been wholly devoid of satisfaction; beyond saying that my original scheme was more ambitious than the outcome, at least in the way of illustration. I had hoped in supplying examples to take more advantage of the fragments of Greek comedy in the collections by Meineke, Kock, and Kaibel ; to make fuller use of recent scholarly work on Menander and the New Greek Comedy ;, and to illustrate the categories of the Tractatus Coislinianus more freely from these sources, from Plautus and Terence, and, in English literature, from Chaucer. As it is, I have limited myself for the most part to examples from Aristophanes, Shakespeare, and Moliere. Perhaps, how- ever, the curtailment has ended in the advantage of illustrating the principles of comedy from the greatest of the great comic poets. From this point, the neglect of Chaucer remains a disadvantage, and one that is increased because the book has a special function for students of English literature. From the circumstances of its composition there is some overlapping in the different parts of the volume, as there is some repetition. Occasionally the overlapping and repetition were unavoidable because the same topic had to be touched on in different connections. In revising, I have not scrupled to let repetitions stand where they appeared to subserve either clearness or emphasis. PREFACE xi Because of the intermittent nature of my work, it is hard to give a clear account of my indebtedness to books and persons. Criticisms have reached me from various quarters, suggestions from friends and pupils, additional illustrations sometimes I know not how. I may, however, speak of my debt to Rutherford and Starkie for their valuable elucidation of the Tractatus Coislinianus. From the brilliant Starkie in particular I have helped myself freely to illustrative examples ; I have tried to indicate this indebtedness at several points in the body of the work, but the specific references do not exhaust the account, and hence I now desire to make acknowledgment in full. At the same time I have tried to proceed independently of both Rutherford and Starkie, and of others who have studied the Tractate ; here and there, I believe, the reader will see that I have continued the process of illustration to advantage, where the scholars just mentioned desisted. My discussion of Plato and comedy, and of Aristotle and Aristophanes, I wrote before meeting with the monographs of Greene and Brentano respectively; and since reading those monographs I am not conscious of any substantial change in my remarks during the process of revision. The dissertation of Schonermarck came to my attention when my own book was ready for the printer ; but it would not at any time have been of special help to me. Finally, I must express my gratitude to several persons who were patient enough to read my manu- script in part or as a whole, and encouraged me to seek a publisher for it. In particular, I wish to thank my friend and colleague Professor Joseph Q. Adams, and Professor Carl N. Jackson of Harvard University, both xii PREFACE of whom have given the work the benefit of a critical examination. From both I have accepted numerous suggestions regarding small details. But as I have not in all cases been able to side with my critics, I must take full responsibility for any errors that may yet remain in the book. CONTENTS PAGE BIBLIOGRAPHY INTRODUCTION I. The Investigation of Literary Types II. A Lost Aristotelian Discussion of Comedy V III. The Tractatus Coislinianus IV. The Nature of the Present Reconstruction V. Aristotle and Aristophanes VI. The Principles of the Present Reconstruction VII. Fundamental Demands of Aristotle . VIII. The Quantitative Parts of Comedy . IX. The Effect of Comedy .... X. Aristotle and Plato on Comedy XI. Aristotle on Pleasure XII. Scattered Passages in Aristotle with a Bearing on Comedy ...... XIII. References to Specific Comic Poets in Works other than the Poetics .... XIV. References to the Comic Chorus in Works other than the Poetics ..... XV. Scattered Passages on Laughter THE POETICS OF ARISTOTLE APPLIED TO COMEDY 166 THE TRACTATUS COISLINIANUS TRANSLATED . 224 THE TRACTATUS COISLINIANUS AMPLIFIED AND ILLUSTRATED • . 227 JOHN TZETZES ON COMEDY . . . 287 APPENDIX : THE FIFTH FORM OF ' DISCOVERY ' IN THE POETICS 290 INDEX 307 1 1 4 10 15 18 41 45 53 60 98 132 140 150 161 162 BIBLIOGRAPHY [Some of the following works, more or less frequently cited in the Introduction and elsewhere, are there cited by the name of the author or editor, or by an abbreviation of the title, or by both. As my study and writing for the volume have been done at intervals over a period of years, and in various places, absolute consistency of citation has perhaps not been attained where it was otherwise possible. Moreover, the usage of editors and translators of Aris- totle varies somewhat in regard to the titles of his works. The explanation of catch-titles in the Bibliography will, it is hoped, obviate all difficulty of reference.] I. ARISTOTLE AHstotelis Opera, edidit Academia Regia Borussica (the text of I. Bekker, ed. by C. A. Brandis, V. Rose, and others). 5 vols. Berlin, 1831 (vols. 1, 2, 3), 1836 (vol. 4), 1870 (vol.5, containing AHstotelis Fragmenta, coll. by V. Rose, and Index Aristotelicus by H. Bonitz). [Where it has been desirable to refer very specifically to a brief passage, or to a very few words, or a single word, in the text of Aristotle, I have cited the page-, column-, and line- number of this edition of the Berlin Academy, following the custom of most subsequent editors and commentators ; thus : Poetics 6. I449b2i (= chapter 6 of the Poetics, and page 1449, column b, line 21, in the said edition.] Aristotelis Fragmenta, ed. by V. Rose. Leipsic, 1886. Aristotelis Fragmenta, ed. by Heitz. Paris, 1869. Bonitz, H., Index Aristotelicus. Berlin, 1870. See above, Aris- totelis Opera, vol. 5. The Works of Aristotle, translated into English under the edi- torship of J. A. Smith and W. D. Ross. Oxford, 1908, etc. [In course of publication, latterly (after Feb., 1913) under the editorship of W. D. Ross. In the present volume I have made frequent, but not invariable, use of the following parts, referring to the whole as the ' Oxford translation ' of Aris- totle.] Atheniensium Respublica, trans, by F. Kenyon. 1920. xvi BIBLIOGRAPHY De Divinalione per Somnum, trans, by J. I. Beare. 1908. De Generatione Animalium, trans, by A. Piatt. 1910. De Partibus Animalium, trans, by W. Ogle. 191 1. De Sensu et Sensibili, trans by J. I. Beare. 1908. Ethica Eudemia, trans, by J. Solomon. 1915. Historic/, Animalium, trans, by D. W. Thompson. 1910. Metaphysica, trans, by W. D. Ross. 1908. Politica, trans, by B. Jowett, revised by W. D. Ross. 1921. Poetics, ed. by J. Vahlen. Third ed. Leipsic, 1885. [Contains, pp. 78 — 80, text of Tractatus Coislinianus.'] Poetics, ed. and trans, by I. Bywater. Oxford, 1909. [Cited as ' Bywater.'] Poetics. S. H. Butcher, Aristotle's Theory of Poetry and Fine Art, with a Critical Text and Translation of the Poetics. London, 1907. [Cited as ' Butcher.'] Poetics. Aristotle On the Art of Poetry : an Amplified Version, with Supplementary Illustrations, for Students of English, by L. Cooper. Boston, [1913] ; New York, [1921]. [Cited as ' Amplified Version.'] Poetics. Aristoteles iiber die Dichtkunst, trans, by A. Gudeman. Leipsic, 1921. Poetics. See A. Gudeman, Die Syrisch-Arabische Uebersetzung der Aristotelischen Poetih. In Philologus 76 (1920). 239 — 65. De Anima, ed. and trans, by R. D. Hicks. Cambridge, 1907. De Anima. Aristote, Traite de I'Ame, ed. and trans, by G. Rodier. 2 vols. Paris, 1900. Nicomachean Ethics, trans, by J. E. C. Welldon. London, 1892. Politics, trans, by B. Jowett, ed. by H. W. C. Davis. Oxford, 1908. Rhetoric, with a Commentary by E. M. Cope, ed. by J. E. Sandys. 3 vols. Cambridge, 1877. Rhetoric, trans, by R. C. Jebb, ed. by J. E. Sandys. Cambridge, 1909. Rhetoric, trans, by J. E. C. Welldon. London, 1886. De Sophisticis Elenchis. Aristotle on Fallacies, or the Sophistiei Elenchi, trans, by E. Poste. London, 1866. BIBLIOGRAPHY II. THE TRACTATUS COISLINIANUS [This text is hereafter sometimes referred to as the Tractatus Coislinianus, more commonly as the ' Tractate.' It has appeared in the following works (the list is not exhaustive), the first edition being that of Cramer, and the best either that of Kaibel or that of Kayser.J Cramer, J. A., ed. Anecdota Graeca e Codd. Manuscriptis Bibliothecae Regiae Parisiensis. Oxford, 1839. (The Trac- tatus Coislinianus is at the end of vol. 1, pp. 403-6.) [Cited as ' Cramer.'] Kaibel, G., ed. Comicorum Graecorum Fragmenta 1.50-3. [See Kaibel, below under (V) Miscellaneous.] Kayser, J. De Veterum Arte Poetica Quaestiones Selectae, pp. 6-8. [See Kayser, below under (V) Miscellaneous.] Vahlen, J., ed. [See his third edition of the Poetics, pp. 78-80, above under (I) Aristotle.] Bernays, J. Zwei Abhandlungen, pp. 137-9. [See Bernays, below under (V) Miscellaneous.] Rutherford, W. G. A Chapter in the History of Annotation, pp. 436 7. [See Rutherford, below under (V) Miscellaneous.] Scholia Graeca in Aristophanem, compiled and ed. by F. Diibner, pp. xxvi-xxvii. Paris (Didot), 1855. [For comment on the Tractatus Coislinianus, see Cramer, as above ; Starkie, Acharnians, below under (IV) Aristophanes ; and below under (V) Miscellaneous, Arndt, Bernays, Kaibel, {Die Prolegomena, etc.), Kayser, McMahon, Starkie (An Aris- totelian Analysis of ' the Comic,' and Wit and Humour in Shake- speare), and Rutherford.] III. PLATO Platonis Opera, ed. by J. Burnet. 5 vols. Oxford, [1902-1906]. The Dialogues of Plato, trans, by B. Jowett. Third ed. 5 vols. Oxford, [1892]. [Cited as ' Jowett,' with volume- and page- number.] Finsler, G. Platon und die Aristotelische Poetih. Leipsic, 1900. Greene, W. C. The Spirit of Comedy in Plato. In Harvard Studies in Classical Philology 31(1920). 63-123. xviii BIBLIOGRAPHY IV. ARISTOPHANES The Comedies of Aristophanes, ed. and trans, by B. B. Rogers. London, 1902-1916. Frogs, 1902 ; Ecclesiazusae, 1902 ; Birds, 1906 ; Plutus (with a trans, of Plautus' Menaechmi), 1907 ; Knights, 1910; Acharnians, 1910; Lysistrata, 1911 ; Peace 1913 ; Wasps, 1915 ; Clouds, 1916. [Cited as ' Rogers, Btrrfs ' ■ ' Rogers, Frogs ' ; etc.] Acharnians, ed. and trans, by W. J. M. Starkie. London, 1909 (For Starkie's use of the Tractatus Coislinianus in relation to Aristophanes, see his Introduction, pp. xxxviii-lxxiv.) [Cited as ' Starkie, Acharnians.'] Clouds, ed. and trans, by W. J. M. Starkie. London, 1911. [Cited as ' Starkie, Clouds.'] Dunbar, H. A Complete Concordance to the Comedies and Frag- ments of Aristophanes. Oxford, 1883. Mazon, P. Essai sur la Composition des Comidies d' Aristophane. Paris, 1904. [Cited as ' Mazon.'] [For the relation of the Tractatus Coislinianus to Aristoph- anes, see also Rutherford, below under (V) Miscellaneous ; and compare Scholia Graeca in Aristophanem, above under (II) The Tractatus Coislinianus, and likewise Tzetzes in Kaibel, Comicorum Graecorum Fragmenta, below under (V) Miscella- neous.] V. MISCELLANEOUS Arndt, E. De Ridiculi Doctrina Rhetorica. Bonn dissertation, 1904. (Contains an important discussion of the Tractatus Coislinianus.) [Cited as ' Arndt.'] Bekker, I., ed. Anecdota Graeca. Berlin, 1814. (Vol. 1, p. 101, contains the reference of the Anti- Atticist to Aristotle's Poetics.) Bernays, J. Erganzung zu Aristoteles' Poetik. In Zwei Ab handlungen iiber die Aristotelische Theorie des Drama (pp. 133-86). Berlin, 1880. (Contains text and discussion of the Tractatus Coislinianus, and is an attempt to reconstruct the Aristotelian theory of comedy.) [Cited as ' Bernays.'] Brentano, E.* Aristophanes und Aristoteles, oder iiber ein Angeb- liches Privilegium der Alten Attischen Komodie. Berlin Pro- gramm, 1873. [Cited as ' Brentano.'] Butcher, S. H. Aristotle's Theory of Poetry and Fine Art. [See Poetics, Butcher, above under (I) Aristotle.] Bywater, I. [See Poetics, Bywater, above under (I) Aristotle.] Ciceronis Scripta Omnia, ed. by C. F. W. Miiller, R. Klotz, A. S. Wesenberg, and G. Friedrich. 4 Parts in 8 vols. Leipsic, 1 890- 1 896. BIBLIOGRAPHY xix Cicero. De Officiis, ed. and trans, by W. Miller. London, 1913. Comicorum Aiticorum Fragmenta. [See below, Kock.] Comicorum Graecorum Fragmenta. [See below, Kaibel ; and com- pare below, Meineke.] Cornford, F. M. The Origin of Attic Comedy. London, 1914. [Cited as ' Cornford.'] Croce, B. /Esthetic as Science of Expression and General Linguistic, trans, by D. Ainslie. London, 1909. Croiset, A. and M. Histoire de la Littirature Grecque. 5 vols. Paris, 1896-9. [Cited as ' Croiset.'] Croiset, M. Aristophanes and the Political Parties at Athens, trans, by J. Loeb. London, 1909. Demetrius On Style. The Greek Text of Demetrius De Elocutione, ed. and trans, by W. R. Roberts. Cambridge, 1902. Eastman, M. The Sense of Humor. New York, 1921. Egger, A. E. Essai sur I'Histoire de la Critique chez les Grecs. Third ed. Paris, 1887. [Cited as ' Egger.'] Fiske, G. C. The Plain Style in the Scipionic Circle. In Classical Studies in Honor of Charles Forster Smith (pp. 62-105). Uni- versity of Wisconsin Studies in Language and Literature, No. 3, 1919. [Cited as ' Fiske.'] Flickinger, R. C. The Greek Theater and its Drama. Chicago, [1918]. Forchhammer, P. W. De Aristotelis Arte Poetica ex Platone lllusiranda Commentatio. Kiel, [1847]. Fragmenta Comicorum Graecorum. [See below, Meineke.] Freud, S. Wit and its Relation to the Unconscious, trans, by A. A. Brill. New York, 1916. Grant, M. A. The Ancient Rhetorical Theories of the Laughable in Cicero and Horace. University of Wisconsin doctoral disser- tation (typewritten manuscript), I9 1 ?- Finsler, G. [See above under (III) Plato.] Greene, W. C. [See above under (III) Plato.] Gudeman, A. [See Poetics, Gudeman, two entries, above under (I) Aristotle.] Haigh, A. E. The Attic Theatre. Third ed. by A. W. Pickard- Cambridge. Oxford, 1907. [Cited as ' Haigh.'] Hirzel, R. Der Dialog, ein Liter arhistorischer Versuch. 2 parts. Leipsic, 1895. xx BIBLIOGRAPHY Hoffding, H. Humor als Lebensgefuhl {der Grosse Humor), eine Psychologische Studie, German trans, from Danish by H. Goebel. Berlin and Leipsic, 1918. Horace. Carmina, ed. by F. Vollmer. Editio maior. Leipsic, 1912. Kaibel, G., ed. Comicorum Graecorum Fragmenta, vol. 1, fasc. prior. Berlin, 1899. (Contains De Comoedia Graeca Com- mentaria Vetera, including Tractatus Coislinianus, the Pro- oemia of Tzetzes, etc.) [Cited as ' Kaibel.'] Kaibel, G. Die Prolegomena I1EPI KR.MQ.IJTAZ, Abhand- lungen der Koniglichen Gesellschaft der Wissenschaften zit Gottingen. Philologisch-historische Klasse. Neue Folge, Band 2, No. 4. Berlin, 1898. Kallen, H. M. The Aesthetic Principle in Comedy. In American Journal of Psychology 22 (1911). 137-57. Kayser, J. De Veterum Arte Poetica Quaestiones Selectae. Dis- sertatio Inauguralis. Leipsic, 1906. (Contains text and an important discussion of Tractatus Coislinianus.) [Cited as ' Kayser.'] Kock, K. T., ed. Comicorum Atticorum Fragmenta. 3 vols. Leipsic, 1880, 1884, 1888. [Cited as ' Kock.'] K6rte, A. Die Griechische Komodie. Leipsic, 1914. Legrand, P. E. The New Greek Comedy, trans, by J. Loeb. Lon- don, 1917. [Cited as ' Legrand.'] Mazon, P. [See above under (IV) Aristophanes.] McMahon, A. P. On the Second Book of Aristotle's Poetics and the Source of Theophrastus' Definition of Tragedy. In Harvard Studies in Classical Philology 28 (1917). 1-46. (Gives some attention to the Tractatus Coislinianus.) [Cited as' McMahon.'] Meineke, A., ed. Fragmenta Comicorum Graecorum. 5 vols, in 4. Berlin, 1839, 1840, 1841, 1857 (vol. 5 containing Comicae Dictionis Index by H. Jacobi). [Cited as ' Meineke.'] Menander. The Principal Fragments, ed. and trans, by F. G. Allinson. London, 1921. Meredith, G. An Essay on Comedy and the Uses of the Comic Spirit, ed. by L. Cooper. New York, [1918]. (Contains, pp. 295-307, a Bibliography of works on comedy.) Moliere. J. B. P. CEuvres (in Les Grands E\crivains de la France). 13 vols. Paris, 1873-1900. [But I have usually followed the text in the CEuvres Completes de Moliere, pub. by Didot, Paris, 1874.] Prescott, H. W. An Introduction to Studies in Roman Comedy: the Interpretation of Roman Comedy ; the Antecedents of Hellen- BIBLIOGRAPHY xxi istic Comedy. Collected, and reprinted for private circulation, from Classical Philology n (1916), 12 (1917), 13 (1918), 14 (1919). Quintilian. Institutio Oratoria, ed. by L. Radermacher. Leipsic, 1907 (vol. 1, Libri 1-6). Quintilian. Institutio Oratoria, ed. .by E. Bonnell. 2 vols. Leipsic, 1896. Quintilian. Institutes of Oratory, trans, by J. S. Watson. 2 vols. London, 1875, 1876. Rabelais, F. Tout Ce Qui Existe de ses OZuvres, ed. by L. Moland. Paris, [n. d.] Reich, H. Der Mimus, ein Litterar-eniwickelungsgeschichtlicher Versuch. Berlin, 1903. Rogers, B. B. [See above under (IV) Aristophanes.] Rutherford, W. G. A Chapter in the History of Annotation; being Scholia Aristophanica, Vol. III. London, 1905. (Con- tains, pp. 435-55, text (in part) and explanation of Tractatus Coislinianus. [Cited as ' Rutherford.'] Schmidt, J. Euripides' Verhaltnis zu Komik und Komodie. Grimma, 1905. Schonermarck, K. L. Quos Affectus Comoedia Sollicitari Voluerit Aristotelis, Quaeritur. [Dissertation.] Leipsic, 1889. Shakespeare, W. [Usually cited in the three-volume edition, with text of W. J. Craig and comments by E. Dowden, pub. by Oxford University Press.] Starkie, W. J. M. An Aristotelian Analysis of ' the Comic,' Illustrated from Aristophanes, Rabelais, Shakespeare, and Moliere. In Hermathena, No. 42 (Dublin, 1920), pp. 26-51. [Cited as ' Hermathena 42.'] Starkie, W. J. M. Wit and Humour in Shakespeare. In A Book of Homage to Shakespeare, ed by I. Gollancz, pp. 212-226. Oxford, 1916. Starkie, W. J. M. [See also his editions of the Acharnians and the Clouds, above under (IV) Aristophanes.] Theophrastus. Characters, ed. and trans, by R. C. Jebb. New ed. by J. E. Sandys. London, 1909. Volkmann, R. Die Rhetorik der Griechen und Romer in sy sternal- ischer Ubersicht dargestellt. Second ed. Leipsic, 1885. White, J. W. The Verse of Greek Comedy. London, 1912. Zielinski, T. Die Gliederung der Altattischen Komoedie. Leipsic, 1885. INTRODUCTION So that as an imitator Sophocles will be on one side akin to Homer, since both represent higher types of character ; and on another to Aristophanes, since both represent persons as acting and doing. Aristotle, Poetics, chapter 3. I THE INVESTIGATION OF LITERARY TYPES An investigation into the nature of comedy falls within the province of the study of literary genera or types, a subject in which students of ancient, mediaeval, and modern literature should alike be interested. And yet not many such types have been methodically ex- amined. We have, indeed, the masterly work of Hirzel entitled Der Dialog ; with which, in point of excellence, we may class Rohde's Der Griechische Roman, and perhaps The New Greek Comedy of Legrand. More speculative, not to say fanciful, is the nevertheless valuable work of Reich, Der Mimus, which is stimulat- ing and not neglectful of detail, though here and there building too elaborately where the basis of fact is necessarily slender. To these we may add Das Liter ar- ische Portrat der Griechen by Ivo Bruns ; the Geschichte der Autobiographie by Misch ; and Werner's Lyrik und Lyriker. A few other volumes might be noted, as that of Greg on Pastoral Drama, and that of Anna Robeson Burr on The A utobiography. The list could not be greatly 2 INTRODUCTION extended, unless we chose to include works incidentally dealing with a literary type in order to explain some individual author or the like; for example, Bradley's Shakespearean Tragedy. In the relatively few cases where we observe no such special limitation, the investigator is likely to empha- size one of two interests. First, he will concern himself with what we may term the anatomy, the physical structure, of the literary type he has in view ; and will do so to the neglect (if we may carry on the figure) of its physiological function. That is, he will try to show us the quantitative parts that may be distinguished in a given kind of literary work, without explaining the proper effect of the whole ; and by this latter I mean tjhe effect upon a duly qualified judge. Or, secondly, with a mind still dwelling upon formal structure, rather than proper function, he will trace the growth of the type from its known, or, more probably, from its hypothet- ical, beginnings in the past, in order to account for its anatomy in a later stage. The emphasis upon structure is justified when formal dissection becomes useful to the study of function* The emphasis upon origin and growth is not astonishing in the present age, when so many scholars and men of science are dominated by a philosophy of evolution. In the time of Aristotle, certainly in Aristotle himself, a juster balance was struck between the philosophy of change and the philosophy of absolute values. If, with our well-marked interest in growth and structure, we must admit for our day a corresponding lack of interest in the end and purpose of a given type when. i it has reached the highest point of development we are ! aware of, the lack can not fail to be a source of regret; I as it can not fail to injure our perspective. Not all the THE INVESTIGATION OF TYPES 3 works I have mentioned are equally open to the implied objection; one is reluctant to withhold the highest praise from such admirable studies as those of Hirzel and Rohde. Nevertheless the fact remains that, whether from the past or the present, we possess, all things considered, but a single adequate investigation of a literary type with regard to form and function ; and that, too, in spite of the numerous critical works that have sprung from its loins. This is the examination of tragedy, in connection with the serious epic, by Aristotle, in the work which we know as the Poetics. Even his Rhetoric, though a more elaborate production as we have it, though generally more readable, and though the most searching analysis of human nature we have received from classical antiquity — even his Rhetoric, though still the best work of its. kind, may be thought, if not inferior, to be more obviously and directly utilitarian in its aim. The Poetics, fragmentary though it be, or at all events in some sort an epitome, is scientific in the best sense of the word, while remain- ing practical, too. There were critics in the Renais- \ sance (not in the Middle Ages) who deemed it infallible. J Infallible it is not in all details ; yet for method and perspective it never has been equaled in its field. With justice, therefore, Alfred Croiset, after contrasting the dogmatism of a Scaliger or a Boileau with the per- spective of that Aristotle whom they regard as a master- critic, observes : ' Of late, certain scholars [as Mahaffy], perhaps through a natural reaction against the former idolatry long accorded to the Poetics, have seemed to take pleasure in depreciating the work. This new exagger- ation is not more reasonable than the other. The Poetics is a masterpiece, in which the fundamental traits of Greek poetry, considered in its evolution as 4 INTRODUCTION well as in its essence, are noted with a precision that gives the work a value well-nigh eternal.' 1 However, the work as we have it touches upon lyrical poetry only in so far as this is involved in a discussion of the dramatic chorus, and of the musical element in the drama ; and it touches upon comedy either in an incidental way, or, otherwise, by implication only. II A LOST ARISTOTELIAN DISCUSSION OF COMEDY It is generally believed that Aristotle included in his writings or lectures a systematic treatment of comedy ; so far as I have read, the belief has never been seriously questioned, unless by McMahon. 2 Nor do I intend to do more than raise the question ; though so long as no clearly authentic work nor any distinct part of one, treating of this genus and attributable by a good tradition to Aristotle, is known to exist, there is always the possibility that he did not systematically deal with the subject — save by implication in our Poetics. He might, conceivably, have found that the emotions of laughter defied analysis. Or, having dealt with comedy in his lectures, he might have left no record of his discussion even in the shape of notes ; and it might be that no student of his had made any record of a lecture or lectures, or that all such records had quickly perished. But evidence in the Poetics, references in his other works, evidence in other writers 1 Alfred and Maurice Croiset, Hist. Lit. Grecque 4. 739-40. 2 E. g., McMahon, p. 28 ; but see ibid., p. 44. A LOST DISCUSSION OF COMEDY 5 who refer to him, and general probability, favor the view that he discussed the subject in more than passing fashion in a written record. It is generally agreed that the loss of any discussion of comedy by Aristotle is a very serious one to students of literature. Bywater holds that the analysis appeared in Book 2 of a work in which the extant Poetics constituted Book 1 ; he says : ' Although Book 2 is now lost, there are indications in Aristotle himself which may give us some idea of the ground it must have covered. It may be taken to have comprised (1) the discussion on comedy prom- ised in Poetics 6. I449 b 2i, and (2) the catharsis theory to which reference is made in Politics 8. 7. i34i b 32. 1 What we are told in more than one passage in the Rhetoric 2 is enough to show that ■zx yskdix, the appointed subject of comedy, must have been considered and examined with the same analytical care as in the treat- ment of xa oo(3epa zai ileeiva in the surviving theory of tragedy. And if his theory of comedy was on much the same lines as that of tragedy, Aristotle must have had something to say on the pOot of comedy, and also on the vjQo? and ^s^is of the comic personages. The strange expression, . . xb Bs otvtmv xuv-roTOTOv, 3 may perhaps have been in its original setting an illus- tration of the possibilities in the way of diction in comedy. As for the catharsis theory, the only place! we can imagine for it would be, as Vahlen (Aristotelisch^ Aufsdtze 3, p. 10) has seen, at the end of Book 2. In such a position it would come in naturally enough, as a final word on the whole subject of the drama, justi- fying the existence of both tragedy and comedy in reply to the polemic of Plato in the Republic. The discussion itself can hardly have been a brief one. Thei 1 See below, p. 130. 2 See below, pp. 123, 138-40. 3 See below, p. 150. 6 INTRODUCTION subject was too large and too controversial to be dis- posed of in some one or two short chapters.' 1 With these bold conjectures of an ordinarily cautious scholar we may compare the assurance of Rutherford, who believes that the Tractatus Coislinianus 2 represents a lost section of the Poetics : ' It is not that the laughter of comedy had not been properly analyzed. Even the scrimp and grudging abstract, now sole relic of the section in the Poetics concerned with comedy, . will convince anybody who keeps it in his head as he listens to Greek comic 7cp6<7W7ta [the personages of Aristophanes] that a Greek had indeed read for Greeks the most secret heart of " the mother of comedy," and, probe in hand, had made clear wherefore it beat, and what it was made of — unconventionally, spite, malice, impudence, devilment, ribaldry, whimsicality, extravagance, insincerity, non- sensicalness, inconsequence, equivoque, drivel, pun, parody, incongruity in all sorts and sizes. But Aristotle thought too much, and was too great an observer, to be loved by commentator and rhetor.' 3 Or again, take Starkie : ' The loss that literature has sustained through the disappearance of the chapters of the Poetic of Aristotle dealing with comedy can be estimated from a study of the Tractatus, which Cramer edited, from the Codex Coisli[ni]anus, more than a half-century ago.' 4 Of late there has appeared an able destructive argu- ment by McMahon 5 to the effect that there never was a second book of the Poetics ; but the argument does not minimize the loss of an Aristotelian treatment of comedy, if Aristotle produced one : 1 Bywater, p. xxiii. 2 See below, pp. 224-6. 3 Rutherford, p. 435. 4 Starkie, Acharnians, p. xxxviii. Starkie published in 1909, Cramer in 1839. 5 See especially McMahon, p. 36. A LOST DISCUSSION OF COMEDY 7 ' Since the Renaissance any treatment of Aristotle's Poetics has discussed and lamented the loss of a second book. Because this book ... is supposed to have con- tained a theory of comedy, its loss, measured by the value of the Aristotelian theory of tragedy, is incal- culable.' 1 The objections brought by McMahon against the existence of a second book, while they reveal a bias toward destructive criticism, 2 are on the whole fairly convincing, and we may accept his guarded conclusion : ' While we are, by the conditions of the problem, prevented from making a categorical denial, we can, I feel sure, assert that sufficient reason can not be shown to warrant the belief that such a book ever existed.' 3 But the question seems to be one of no great impor- tance. The present division of other works of Aristotle into ' books ' need not be, in some cases can not be, ascribed to the author himself, and may have been effected long after his time ; witness the Metaphysics and the Nicomachean and Eudemian Ethics. We see the same sort of thing in the works of Plato : only a very mechanical editor would end Book 2 of the Re- public in the midst of the discussion of poetry. But the belief that no editor ever divided the Poetics into ' books ' would not compel us to deny that Aristotle ever wrote on comedy in a more definite way than we observe in the extant treatise. Nor would the doubt McMahon, following Shute, has thrown on the authen- 1 McMahon, p. 1. 2 See his unduly sceptical attitude (McMahon, p. 35) to the credibility of the Anti-Atticist. 3 McMahon, p. 9. His argument is so condensed, and his citations of the evidence, and of other scholars who have dealt with it, are so full, that I can not attempt to give an abstract, but must refer the student to the article itself ; see the Bibliography, above, p. xx. 8 INTRODUCTION ticity of the references from other works of Aristotle to this 1 justify one in holding that the treatise now con- tains all it ever contained on the subject. Take, for example, the statement in Rhetoric i. n that the forms of the ludicrous have been analyzed in the Poetics? and the still more specific assertion in Rhetoric 3. 18 that they have been enumerated in the Poetics." On the law of chances, there being six references from the Rhetoric to the Poetics, one of these two might have come from the author himself, and the other from a subsequent editor — though the second is built into the substance of a connected passage. The most unlikely assumption is that Aristotle made none of the ' cross-references ' to be found in works so intimately related in subject as the Rhetoric and the Poetics. But on any assumption short of universal incredulity we must contend that one person, or more than one, familiar with at least two of the writings of Aristotle, interested in Rhetoric, and interested in the ludicrous, was aware of a schematic treatment of the ludicrous not then or now found in the Rhetoric, and not now found in our Poetics, but then found in a work with some such title as the latter. There might have been a confusion of the Poetics with Aristotle's dialogue On Poets ; but the most natural explanation is that the Poetics once included an explicit inquiry into the sources of comic effect — something analogous to, or possibly in essen- tials identical with, the analysis of the sources of laughter in the Tractatus Coislinianus.^ That explanation does not require the hypothesis of a second book of the Poetics. This treatise has certain 1 McMahon, pp. 17-21. 2 See below, p. 123. 3 See below, p. 138. 4 See below, pp. 224-5, 229-59. A LOST DISCUSSION OF COMEDY 9 characteristics, but not all, of a rounded whole. The outline, which is excellent, is at times worked out with care, and at times has the look of notes made in advance by a lecturer, or during the lecture by one of the au- dience, or again, of an abstract from a dialogue. 1 Or the general effect may be likened to that of an uneven abstract taken from the major part of a longer book and belonging to a later period. The scheme is elastic enough to admit of expansions by the original author in the substance, even of insertions of new but germane material. Some such outline could have served Aris- totle in his teaching throughout a number of years. Whatever the history of the work, what we now have is more likely to be a reduction than an extension of his oral treatment of the subject. In comparison with several other works of the same author — with the Constitution of Athens, or the Nicomachean Ethics, or the Politics, or the first two parts of the Rhetoric — we can hardly grant that the extant Poetics constitutes a finished essay, duly revised for publication. The Politics, though the end is missing, is far more like one. Meanwhile, since the question of books or parts has been raised, we may note that the cleavage between Books 1 and 2 of the Poetics, supposing that there were two ' books,' need not have appeared at the close of the present treatise ; it might come before that — for example, between chapters 22 and 23. In other words, if the work was originally longer than it is now, if it underwent compression throughout, but more toward the end than in the earlier sections, and if something has been lost at the end, still, granting for the moment that there once were two ' books,' it would not be 1 See my "Amplified Version,' pp. v, xxvi-xxviii. io INTRODUCTION necessary to suppose that all of the second had been lost. At all events, it would not be out of keeping with the scheme of our Poetics if to the four sections into which it now readily divides 1 there were added a fifth, consisting of remarks on comedy, and related in various ways to what went before. But the mechanical division of Aristotle's works is a question of secondary importance. It is obvious that a theory of comedy, if the author elaborated one, would be associated in his mind, and in the minds of his pupils and editors, with his sketch of tragedy and epic poetry, even though such a theory, whenever produced, had no more organic connection with the main work than the third book of the Rhetoric has with the first two. Ill THE TRACT ATUS COISLINIANUS We turn now to the strange fragment or condensation of a theory of comedy known as the Tractatus Coislini- anus, to which I shall not seldom refer as the ' Trac- . tate ' ; its obvious relation to the Poetics of Aristotle J / was noticed by Cramer, who first printed it, in the year 1839, 2 fr° m a manuscript of the tenth century, No. 120 in the De Coislin collection at Paris. A better transcript of the manuscript was utilized by Bernays for his Erganzung zu Aristoteles' Poetik (1853, 1880) , 3 and the text has been several times reprinted, as by 1 Bywater, p. xvii, distinguishes five sections : chaps. 1-5, 6-22, 23-4, 25, 26. I include chaps. 25-6 under one head, that of problems in criticism and their solutions. 2 Cramer 1. 403-6. • 3 Bernays, Zwei Abhandlungen, 1880, pp. 133-86. THE TRACT ATUS COISLINIANUS n Vahlen 1 and by Rutherford, 2 the best editions being that of Kaibel (1899) in the only part issued of his Comicorum Graecorum Fragmenta 3 and that of Kayser (1906) 4 in De Veterum Arte PoeticaQuaestiones Selectae. Perhaps through a reaction from the effervescent style of Rutherford, 5 but mainly in order to strengthen his case against a second book of the Poetics, McMahon goes far in depreciating the significance of the frag- ment. 6 On the other hand, Kayser, the results of whose study of the Tractate McMahon deems ' the most cred- ible of all,' but whom he does not quote, declares that, ' Of the ancient commentaries dealing with Greek comedy, as no one will fail to perceive, the most valuable for an investigation into the history of the art of poetry is the " Tractatus Coislinianus." ' 7 Condensed, then, though the fragment is, among the vestiges of a theory of comedy that have come down to us in the Greek tradition (aside from the Poetics of Aristotle and the Philebus of Plato) it is, not merely for historical pur- poses, but in itself, by far the most important. The antiquity of the original source for various parts of it is reasonably clear. Perhaps we may grant that the treatise shows ' several different strata in its develop- ment to its present state ' 8 ; that it betrays the hand, now of an industrious and faithful student of Aristotle, now of a less intelligent imitator determined at all 1 In Vahlen's third ed. (1885) of the Poetics, pp. 78-80. 2 Rutherford, pp. 436-7. 3 Kaibel, pp. 50-3. 4 Kayser, pp. 6-8. 5 See above, p. 6. 6 McMahon, pp. 27, 29-34. ' Kayser, p. 5 : ' Commentariorum veterum, qui sunt de comoe- dia Graeca, plurimum valere ad artis poeticae historiam investi- gandam tractatum ilium qui vocatur Coislinianus nemo erit quin intellegat.' 8 McMahon, p. 27. 12 INTRODUCTION costs to bring his work into line with the doctrine or the terms of the Poetics ; and that the definition of comedy seems to merit the censure passed on it by Bernays and Bywater. 1 Nevertheless, from the very nature of the fragment — from the fact that it is a fragment or ab- stract, — every one of these three concessions may be questioned. That tragedy has ' grief ' for its ' mother,' J and that comedy has ' laughter ' for its ' mother ' i — as the Tractate informs us — seem to be very un- ! Aristotelian conceptions. Yet they may be old; and, besides, we know nothing of the kind of utterances Aristotle put into the mouths of the speakers other than I himself in his dialogues. The division of comedy into ' Old,' ' New,' and ' Middle,' has been thought to be manifestly post-Aristotelian. Of the division of poetry into ' mimetic ' and ' non-mimetic ' we can not with certainty affirm as much. 2 It contradicts one of the central doctrines of the Poetics, that a man is a poet only in so far as he is ' mimetic ' — in so far as he keeps himself out of his poem and ' imitates ' his ob- ject, ' men in action.' But there are discrepancies just as glaring within the extant Poetics ; 3 indeed, even in that work Aristotle recognizes, in addition to the properly dramatic genius who keeps his own sentiments in abeyance, the enthusiastic poet who gives way to his own welling emotions. 4 Of this kind, it may be, in his view, was Solon, whose ' poems ' and ' poetry ' he repeatedly quotes in the Constitution of Athens,** and whom he cites in the Politics and Rhetoric as one 1 Bernays, p. 145 ; Bywater, p. xxii. But see below, pp. 69-77 > and see also Kayser, p. 31. 2 For all these allusions, see below, pp. 224-8. 3 See my 'Amplified Version,' pp. xxvi-xxviii. 4 Poetics 17; see my 'Amplified Version,' p. 58. 6 Ed. by Sandys (1912), 5. 14 (p. 20), 12. 2 (p. 43). THE TRACT ATUS COISLINIANUS 13 who had written poetry (jconfjaas, Irofoias). 1 And it will be recalled that Aristotle's own verse is of the non-mimetic description ; 2 in his well-known scolion, for example, he does not ' imitate ' the thoughts of some fictitious personage, but sounds the praise of virtue in his own way. Again, the argument against the Tractate — that it is un-Aristotelian, — on the ground that certain technical terms are not there used in the same sense as in the Rhetoric, is hardly valid, since the Rhetoric is not a treatise on comedy. Some are so used, and some are not. Within the limits of a single work, in the Poetics, for example, Aristotle does not always use a given term twice in the same way. 3 But I make no point of defending the Tractate on the ground that any large share of it is very original. In it the hand of an unskilful adapter may have levied upon an earlier, more ample source, or more than one source ; what he had before him may have been an intermediate compilation lying between him and Aris- totle or Theophrastus or some later critic. Parts of it may not ultimately derive from Aristotle ; others may show an unintelligent use of the Poetics, or else a badly-mangled tradition. But if in others there is a combination of materials from the Poetics, Rhetoric, arid Ethics, the adaptation has been made with skill. When all possible objections have been urged against the frag- ment, there remain certain elements in it that, we may contend, preserve, if not an original Aristotelian, at all events an early Peripatetic, tradition. If I may speak for myself, a study of the ' parts of dianoia ' 1 Politics 1. 8. 1256633; Rhetoric 1. 15. I375 b 34- 2 Aristotle, Fragmenta, ed. by Rose (1886), 671-5 (X. Carmina, pp. 421-3; compare frg. 676 (ibid., p. 424). 3 See below, pp. 54-5. i 4 INTRODUCTION has greatly increased my respect for the Tractate. 1 And, to come back to the list of the sources of comic effect: however bald in its present shape, it betrays the workings of a powerful mind anterior to the age of the epitomator. Something might be said for the attri- bution of this list, and the ' parts of dianoia,' (possibly with other analyses and observations such as the differentiation of comic ' character ') to Theophrastus, a pupil of Aristotle, and his successor as head of the Peripatetic school ; that is, if the significant parts of the Tractate do not by some road go back either to a Poetics of Aristotle more complete than ours, or to his dialogue On Poets. 2 It is this very list that, as we saw, 8 most fully satisfies the references from the Rhet- oric to an enumeration of the species of laughter in some work on poetry. And it is this list, the most valuable part of the fragment, against which the de- structive critics have had least to say. Kayser, who has studied several items in the list, but pays no attention to the ' parts of dianoia,' wishes, however, to assign the original source of the Tractate to a date not earlier than the first century b. o., assuming the existence of a work on poetry from which not only the epitomator or excerptor of the fragment, but other authors as well, drew their materials, 4 and arguing from the appearance of technical terms in a sense too late for the time of Aristotle. It may be seen that some of the terms describing the parts of comic dianoia may have been used in a technical sense before the time of Aristotle ; 5 so that perhaps the whole question should be reopened. 1 See below, pp. 265-81. 2 McMahon, pp. 27, 43-4. 3 See above, p. 8. 4 Kayser, p. 44. 5 See below, pp. 265-80. THE TRACT ATUS COISLINIANUS 15 But speculation regarding the early history of the Poetics (with its relation to the dialogue On Poets), and of the Tractate, is well-nigh futile. Of greater significance is the actual correlation of the Tractate, effected by Bernays, by Rutherford, and above all by Starkie, with the thought of Aristotle and the phenom- ena of ancient comedy. Through constructive effort, the fragment serves to explain Greek comedy in the same way, if not to the same extent, as the Poetics has served to explain Greek tragedy and the epic. By a systematic application of the Poetics to Homer, Aes- chylus, Sophocles, and Euripides, the thought of the treatise is seen to be fundamental ; general truth and specific example mutually corroborate and delimit each other ; and, with care, the application may be extended to modern literature, even to other types than were known to Aristotle. Similarly, the Tractate may be applied, as has been done by Rutherford and Starkie, to Aristophanes, to Shakespearean comedy, and to Moliere. The work of Starkie, and I believe my own on the ' parts of dianoia,' will show that in certain essentials the Tractate has the universal quality we ascribe to the generalizations of the Poetics. 1 IV THE NATURE OF THE PRESENT RECONSTRUCTION In his Ergdnzung zu Aristoteles' Poetik, Bernays has attempted to reconstruct the Aristotelian theory of 1 Starkie, Acharnians, pp. xxxviii-lxxiv ; see also his article on Aristophanes, Rabelais, Shakespeare, and Moliere, in Herma- thena 42. 26-51, and his article in A Book of Homage to Shakespeare, ed. by Gollancz, pp. 212-26. 16 INTRODUCTION comedy from the Tractatus Coislinianus. He takes the Tractate as his basis. Accepting the fragment as ulti- mately deriving from Aristotle, he aims simply to ex- plain and correct this in the light of other Aristotelian works, including the Rhetoric and Nicomachean Ethics, but especially, of course, the Poetics. He rightly assumes that we must guard at every point against false additions and mistakes of the epitomator — or, as may now be said, against a corrupt tradition in general, if, to quote more fully the statement of McMahon, 1 ' this treatise, manifestly of Peripatetic origin,' gives evidence of ' several different strata in its -development to its present state.' The ingenuity and learning of Bernays as a pioneer in evaluating the Tractate are on a level with his merit as an interpreter of the Poetics ; and if a stratum of the fragment be Aristotelian, it might seem that in a constructive way he left little to be done, apart from the illustrative work of Rutherford and Starkie. Nevertheless at two car- dinal points he falls short. First, notwithstanding the frequency of reference to the Old Comedy in the Aris- totelian Didascaliae, 2 and the indications that the work of the scholiasts on Aristophanes had its original im- pulse from Aristotle ; notwithstanding the use by the scholiasts, in commenting on this poet, of categories similar to those of the Tractate ; and notwithstanding the vital character of the first reference to Aristophanes in the Poetics, 3 Bernays thinks that Aristotle under- rated the Aristophanic drama in comparison with a later type^ verging on the New Comedy. Now it is •one of my assumptions that Aristotle would include 1 McMahon, p. 27 ; see above, p. 11. 2 See below, pp. 156-9. 3 See below, p. 172. NATURE OF OUR RECONSTRUCTION 17 more than one type of comedy in his survey, and that he could not possibly exclude Aristophanes; to the evidence for this view I shall later return. 1 Secondly, Bernays, making use of the few direct references to comedy in the Poetics as a supplement to the Tractate, subordinates the Poetics to the Tractate. But I sub- ordinate the Tractate to the Poetics. To me, whatever the authenticity of the Tractate, by far the greater part of an Aristotelian theory of comedy is to be found in the Poetics itself ; to some extent, of course, in the direct references, since their value can hardly be over- estimated ; but also implicitly in the main conceptions of the work as a whole, and, throughout the work, in many details of the discussion of tragedy. The infer- ence can hardly be challenged, if the two kinds of drama were as intimately related in the mind of Aris- totle as they were in their actual existence. 2 - And hence I contend that, with a slight shift, which can be made in the light of the direct references, or in the light of simijar references in the Rhetoric and other works of Aristotle, the Poetics can be metamorphosed into a treatise on comedy ; whereupon the authentic elements (if such there be) of the Tractatus Coislinianus become an addendum, very significant in any case, but subordinate to the main Aristotelian theory of comedy, and improperly estimated unless viewed in a perspective of the whole. In such a perspective, the 1 See below, pp. 19-41. 2 Compare Croiset, Hist. Lit. Grecque 3. 424-5 : ' L'histoire de la com£die en Grece est plus intimement liee que nulle part ailleurs a celle de la tragedie. Non seulement, comme partout, ces deux genres ont cohabits sur les memes scenes et ont exerce l'un sur l'autre une influence constante, mais de plus, issus du meme culte, animus de la meme inspiration religieuse, ils ont jusqu'a la fin servi et honor6 le meme Dieu. Au meme titre que la tragedie, la comgdie grecque est essentiellement dionysiaque.' b 18 INTRODUCTION categories of the ludicrous in the Tractate, whether they proceed from Aristotle himself, or were merely produced under his influence, fall into line as a part of a rational and helpful method in the study of the drama. Of course I do not wish to imply, either here or elsewhere, that Aristotle's theory can thus be fully recovered j 1 or indeed that it could be otherwise truly restored than by the reappearance of a more complete work in manuscript. For example, if the notion of catharsis really had for him the interest commonly supposed, we certainly can not reproduce what he may have said or thought of it in regard to comedy ; his views on the emotional effect of comedy must remain partly conjectural. Still, many other positive results can be obtained, and yet more can be fairly inferred. ARISTOTLE AND ARISTOPHANES Before going further in our reconstruction, we must open a question regarding the sort of examples Aris- totle would use in illustration of his theory. As in the case of tragedy and epic poetry, his generalizations would have been abstracted from the works of comic poets, while doubtless transcending the practice of any one author. First, then, we must take issue with Meineke, Ber- nays, and such as have followed them in contending that Aristotle would underrate Aristophanes. Thus, 1 Let this be my general warning, so that the reader may be spared the constant repetition of qualifying phrases in what follows ; there are enough of them as it is. ARISTOTLE AND ARISTOPHANES 19 according to Butcher: 'It is doubtful whether Aris-"] totle had any perception of the genius and imaginative I power of Aristophanes.' 1 j) Bywater is more cautious, but tends to a similar conclusion : ' If his theory of comedy had come down to us, we should probably find it more applicable to the New Comedy than to that of Aristophanes.' 2 And Bernays thinks it probable ' from all we know of Aris- totle that he regarded the innuendo of the Middle Comedy as the correct method in general.' 3 The. opinion mainly rests on a passage in the Nicomachean Ethics* where the propriety of obscene or abusive wit is discussed in relation, not to the stage, but to the j habitual conduct of the individual, the subject-matter I of Ethics. It rests also to some extent on a statement^] in the Politics, 5 bearing upon the education of youth, one of the main considerations in this science. The opinion can not" be supported by any utterance of . Aristotle in the Poetics, where, on the contrary, we find? t distinctly maintained that the standard of propriety! n the conduct of fictitious characters in poetry is differ-j :nt from the standard of conduct for the individual in his private life (according to the ideals of Ethics), or for men in their communal activities and their re- lations to the State (according to the ideals of Politics) . He mentions Politics in particular, but the term really is a general one, embracing both communal and indi- vidual rights and duties. The standard of conduct in poetry, says Aristotle, is different from the standard of correctness in Politics or any other field of investi- 1 Butcher, p. 380. 2 Bywater, p. ix ; cf . ibid., p. 190. 3 Bernays, p. 150 ; see below, pp. 259-60. 4 See below, p. 120. 5 See below, p. 125. b 2 L 20 INTRODUCTION I gation. 1 Thus, whereas in the Nicomachean Ethics \ Aristotle advises men to be perfect, in the Poetics he lets us see that the comic poet should represent men as no better, but rather worse, than the average. 2 In other words, the propriety of the sentiments and utterances of dramatic characters, like the propriety of the action as a whole, in a comedy of Aristophanes or of any other poet, is to be judged, not first of all by what is fitting in actual life, public or private, but by a rule of art. With this, the supposed radical objection of Aristotle to Aristophanes upon ethical grounds, because of the obscene features in the Old Comedy, instantly disappears. 3 Moreover, the Poetics frankly recognizes the origin of comedy in the phallic procession and dance, without the least indication of censure. 4 To the mime, in which modern authorities find the other chief source of the genus, Aristotle alludes in connection with the Dialogues of Plato ; we may suppose that he thought well of the mime, which was sometimes more decent than Aristophanes, sometimes far less. Aristotle's main objection to Aristophanes, however, is supposed to have arisen from the fact that the Old Comedy indulged in free personal abuse of individuals ; whereas poetry tends to represent the universal — in con- crete form, to be sure. As the point is involved in an under- standing of the Poetics itself (and not of another work like the Ethics or Politics), I return to it when we come 1 Poetics 25. 1460^13-15 ; see below, p. 218. 2 Ibid. 2. I448ai-i8, 5. 1449*32-4 ; see below, pp. 169-70, 176. Compare also Poetics 25. 1461^4-9; see below, p. 219. 3 Compare Brentano, p. 44 : ' Die Frage nach dem kiinstlerischen Werth der alten Komodie hat mit dieser ethischen Verurtheilung schlechterdings nichts zu schaffen.' My judgment regarding Aristotle's probable estimate of Aristophanes was reached and formulated before I knew of the convincing Programm by Brentano, whose argument in more than one detail coincides with mine. 4 See below, p. 176. ARISTOTLE AND ARISTOPHANES 21 to the passages in their actual setting. 1 But here we may note, first of all, that Aristotle nowhere — neither in the Poetics nor elsewhere in his extant works — objects to Aristophanes for his ludicrous treatment of Euripides, Aeschylus, Socrates, or any one else. In" fact, throughout the writings of Aristotle there is no censure of Aristophanes in any way, shape, or form ; just as there is none of Plato for his use of a kind of generalized ' Socrates,' often comic, in his Dialogues^ To suppose that the critic must have condemned the poet for insufficient generalization of his comic material is pure inference. Upon what grounds is the inference based ? Mainly upon the notion that Aristophanes may be included with the old ' iambic jpoets ' (who devoted themselves to personal invective) mentioned in Poetics 9.1451^14.2 But in the first reference to this class of poets, in Poetics 4.14481533—4, Aristotle is thinking, not of dramatists, but of more ancient authors, in particular, it may be supposed, Archilochus, 3 and of mordant personal diatribes ; these authors apparently belong to the age of Homer, according to the method of reference in the Poetics. Aristotle has in mind such things as the iambic poem of Archilochus in which the jilted bard attacked the whole family of Lycambes, accusing the father of perjury and his daughters of abandoned lives. And in this second instance (9.1451b 14) he is thinking of poets, probably dramatists, but possibly not, anterior to Crates, 4 who had become eminent by b c. 450, and died ( ?)before b. 0. 424. Aris- 1 See below, pp. 192-3, 259-60. - See below, p. 192. 3 See Bywater, p. 130; cf. Aristotle's Rhetoric 2. 23. 4 See below, pp. 177-8. 22 INTRODUCTION tophanes was born in b. c. 445/4, the generally accepted date, or perhaps ten years earlier ; according to Kent, he died in b. c. 375 or later. 1 He can not have seemed like a very ancient author to Aristotle (born b. c. 384), who says in Poetics 4.144901— 2 that the archon did not grant a chorus to comedy until late in its history ; and it is held that the archon first granted a chorus to comedy in b. c. 487 (Capps) or about b. c. 465 (By- water). 2 Sixty, or not less than forty, years after this ' late date ' occurred the first presentation of a comedy by Aristophanes ; over one hundred years after b. c. 487 occurred the last we know of in his lifetime 3 — possibly when Aristotle was about ten years old. In b. c. 340/39, when Aristotle was at the height of his powers, there is an indication of a revival of interest at Athens in the comedy of a time preceding ; 4 whenever the Poetics was written, we can see from the reference in it to Aristophanes that he was then considered the outstand- ing poet of his class. It is hard to think of any one describing the most fertile and varied metrist of antiq- uity as a mere ' iambist ' ; but in any case the later plays of Aristophanes — for example, the revised Plutus — could not by any stretch of imagination be included among the works of ' the old iambic poets ' who vented their spleen in direct abuse of persons. Nor is there reason to suppose that the earlier Plutus (b. c. 408) 1 Roland G. Kent, When did Aristophanes Die? in The Classi- cal Review 20 (1906). 153-5; cf- ibid. 19 (1905). 153-5. 2 Haigh, p. 20, gives the date as fixed by Capps, B. c. 487 ; Bywater, p. 142, citing Wilamowitz, says 'probably about B. c. 465'; Comford, p. 215, accepts B. 0. 487; Flickinger, The Greek Theater and its Drama, p. 135, gives B. 0. 486. 3 I refer to the presentation of the Cocalus and the Aeolosicon ; see Kent, as above (Classical Review 20. 154) : 'These two plays . . . did not appear before 375.' 4 Haigh, p. 22 ; cf. the inscription in Urkunden Dramatischer Auffiihrungen in Athen, ed. by Adolf Wilhelm, pp. 27-9. ARISTOTLE AND ARISTOPHANES 23 could be included among them. The last plays, the Cocalus and Aeolosicon, are regarded as distinct fore- runners of the New Comedy. Platonius recognizes the Aeolosicon as belonging to the type of the Middle Com- edy; 1 but according to a Greek biographer, ' Aristophanes . . . was the first who exhibited the manner of the New Comedy, in the Cocalus ; from which drama Menander and Philemon took their origin as playwrights. ... He wrote the Cocalus, in which he introduced the seduction, and the recognition of iden- tity, and all the other artifices that Menander emulated.' 2 Had the two plays been preserved, we should doubtless see that, from first to last, Aristophanes ran the gamut of possibilities in Greek comedy. We must now observe that the terms ' old ' (%v) and ' recent ' (jiaivwv) comedies is made in Nicomachean Ethics 4.9 (= 14) ; 3 while the stages or varieties of Old, New, and Middle Comedy (ra&ocia, vsa, piuv)) are rec- ognized by the epitomator in the Tractatus Coislini- anus. A In the Poetics, ' old ' (raxtacioi, 14. 1453^27) and ' new ' (vsoi, 6.1450^25) — not ' recent ' (xatvoi) — are loosely used to differentiate an earlier class of tragic poets, including Aeschylus and Sophocles, from a later, beginning with Euripides ; and there is a similar distinction (6.1450^7—8) between 01 &p/aToi, including Sophocles, ' and 01 vuv . including Euripides and his followers or imitators. 5 Now the lives of the three 1 In Kaibel, p. 4. 2 Vita Aristophanis, in Prolegomena, No. 11, Dubner ; cf. Rogers, Plutus, pp. xxiii-xxiv. 3 See below, p. 120. 4 See below, p. 226. 5 Cf. By water, p. 167. 24 INTRODUCTION tragic poets overlapped (Aeschylus, circa B.C. 525—456 ; Sophocles b. c. 497 or 495 — 405; Euripides, b. 0. 480—406). And the change in type of the comedies of Aristophanes shows itself as early as b. 0. 393, when the Ecclesiazusae was exhibited. The death of Eurip- ides, then, antedates the composition of the Poetics by perhaps seventy years, while the Ecclesiazusae antedates it by perhaps fifty-five ; that is, if we agree with Croiset that most of the extant works of Aristotle probably belong to the period b. c. 335— 323, x assum- ing, too, that the Poetics was among the earliest of them. If it was one of the later or latest, the intervals between it and the dates of Euripides and Aristophanes are longer. If Sophocles was one of the ' old ' tragic poets, and Euripides one of the ' new,' though their activities coincided over a period of fifty years, and if Aristophanes was exhibiting comedies during the last twenty years of that period, and continued to be pro- ductive for twenty years more, why should not Aristotle find the turning-point between the earlier (not the archaic) and the later comedy where it is even now most apparent, in the time, and even in the works, of Aristoph- anes himself ? We see, in the main from Aristophanes, that the transition from the earlier type of Attic comedy went hand in hand with the circumstances of the Pelopon- nesian war. The Ecclesiazusae and the Plutus, as is noted by Rogers, ' are the only extant comedies which were produced after the downfall of the Athenian em- pire.' 2 From these the development went on, in the Aeolosicon and the Cocalus, in the direction of Philemon and Menander ; then followed the bulk of what we now 1 Croiset 4. 693. 2 Rogers, Plutus, p. xiii. ARISTOTLE AND ARISTOPHANES 25 call the Middle Comedy, which Aristotle doubtless would include with the later plays of Aristophanes as ' new ' ; then came the New Comedy proper, as we term it, the high tide of which Aristotle did not live to see. Yet apart from the fact that he could study both an earlier and a later type in Aristophanes, his situation is analogous to that of a critic born in the Jacobean period of English comedy, and hence familiar with the Elizabethan type, who lived on to the time of the Restoration and its drama. There is a difference, in that the drama paused with the closing of the English theatres, whereas Greek comedy went on without cessation. But we have a political break in England^ with the troublous times of the Commonwealth to match the fall of Athens ; and the interval between the Elizabethan drama and the drama of the Restoration just about matches the interval between the death of Euripides, or the midway point in the career of Aristoph- anes, and the age of the Poetics. There may be yet another parallel. The distinction which Aristotle draws in the Ethics 1 between the 'old ' and the ' recent ' comedies is possibly much the same as the difference between the broad humor of the Elizabethans and the innuendo of a Congreve. The i nnuendo of th e Restoration is more like the langu age a ~~gentleman would permit himself to use in private than are the obscenity and personal abuse of a Falstaff . But we need not on that account imagine that a good Greek critic, surveying both periods, would on every ground prefer Congreve, let alone Wycherley, to Shake- speare. The late Middle Comedy of Greece had its Wycherleys, too. And the Middle Comedy did not 1 See above, p. 19 ; below, p. 120. 26 INTRODUCTION renounce the satire of well-known individuals. Legrand remarks upon the number of comedies of the Middle period having as title ' the name of a politician, of a man- about -town, or of a courtesan.' 1 One fragment of Epi- crates is a long and dull attack, meant to be funny, on Plato and his school for their investigations into botany and zoology. 2 To Aristotle the mention of Plato, and of Speusippus, whose library he purchased after its owner's death, might not be gratifying, in view of his relations to them and of his own scientific interests. We should not jump to the conclusion that he would find nothing in the comedy of his own age that did not meet his approval. We should not run to any extreme in our speculations regarding his likes and dislikes. He mentions a verse in Anaxandrides as an ' iambic ' line 3 ; but it is probable that he liked it. His own jokes (if we accept a passage in Demetrius 4 ) resembled banter, did not always differ from gibes, and sometimes ran close to buffoonery. He relished the tragic address of Gorgias to the swallow, ' when she dropped her leavings on him as she flew over ' : ' " For shame, Philo- mela ! " ' ' In a bird, you know,' says the Stagirite, ' it would not be disgraceful, but in a maiden it would.' 5 Indeed, we should expect from him a theory elastic enough to embrace the excellences of each type of comedy, both ' the old ' and ' the recent ' ( ? our 'Middle'). With his affection for the intermediate between two extremes, he might be conceived as invent- ing the terms ' Old,' ' New,' and ' Middle ' ; and we 1 Legrand, p. 299. 2 Athenaeus 2. 59c; cf. Kock 2. 287-8. Compare also TJsener, Vortrage mid Aufsatze, 1907, p. 83. 3 See below, pp. 159-60. ' See below, pp. 102-3. Rhetoric 3. 3. ARISTOTLE AND ARISTOPHANES 27 might fancy that these obtained their present appli- cation from critics after the time of Menander. There is a haze surrounding the terms ; we can but speculate concerning their origin. 1 In discussing tragedy, while Aristotle manifestly thinks of Sophocles' Oedipus the King as a close approximation to the ideal, it is clear that he has a high regard for Euripides' Iphigenia among the Taurians. Certainly there is one characteristic he would approve if he found it in the poets of his own generation ; a later authority says : 'The poets of the Middle Comedy did not aim at poetic diction, but, following the custom of ordinary speech, they have the virtue of good sense, so that the poetic quality is rare with them. They all pay at- tention to plot.' 2 If we had Aristotle's estimate of several " recent ' comedies, we should know more than we do of that Middle Greek Comedy which for us is intermediate as well in type as in point of time. Perhaps his ideal in comedy would be a compromise between the best of the earlier and the best of the later plays. If Aris- tophanes is both ' old ' and * new,' the Birds might be thought to combine the largest number of his excel- lences on either side — as Sophocles is a kind of golden mean betwixt the older Aeschylus and the more modern Euripides, or as The Tempest is the golden mean in Shakespearean comedy. Little as we know of Aristotle's preferences in com- edy, it is not idle to speculate about them from such data as we possess. Bywater, we recall, 3 conjectures that the Aristotelian theory would have been more 1 See below, p. 285. Plautus comes nearer than Terence to the Middle Comedy. 2 Anonymus in Kaibel, pp. 8-9. 3 See above, p. 19. 28 INTRODUCTION applicable to the New Comedy; this conjecture is in line with the notion of Bywater that in the extant Poetics Aristotle writes with an eye to the practice of the tragic authors of his own day — that he writes to be useful. Doubtless he did write with a practical as well as a theoretical aim, and accommodated his theory to current usage. Nevertheless the main principles of the work are derived, for tragedy and epic poetry, 29-30 Aristotle quotes as a familiar proverb the saying, ' Slave before slave, master before master.' And what Aristotle calls ' the proverb ' (-ri)v rcocpoipiav) Bonitz (Index Aristotelicus, s. v. OtX%wv) regards as a quotation from the Pancratiasies of 1 Kock 3. 463, frg. 302. 2 Kock 2. 164, Anaxandrides, frg. 79; (the following all of unknown authorship) 3. 448, frg. 207, 208, 209, 210; 3. 463, frg. 302; 3. 493, frg. 446, 447, 448, 449; 3. 524, frg.. 650a; 3. 545' frg. 779. See also 3. 612, frg. 1229; 3. 712, frg. 243 ; 3. 724 frg 684; 3. 730, frg. 38. 3 Kock 3. 612, frg. 1229. 4 Kock 3. 712, frg. 243; 3. 724, frg. 684; 3. 73 o, frg. 38. ARISTOTLE AND ARISTOPHANES 35 Philemon, where the proverb certainly was used. Secondly, in De Sophisticis Elenchis 4.7 .ibfa-fi— 7 appears the line, syw dispro portion , ~~(6) Itis a pleasure similar to that produced in us by the Odyssey, save that the outcome of the Odyssey, while a happy one for Odysseus and his household, is disastrous to the wooers of Penelope. It is the pleasure aroused by the story of Orestes and Aegisthus when treated in such fashion that these heroes, legendary foes in the tragic poets, at the end of the comedy walk off the stage as friends, without any one slaying or being slain. (7) The pleasure of comedy is the actual effect pro- duced upon the audience. It is something capable of being observed in the theatre, or in the man who reads the comedy away from the theatre. T his effect s may be described as psycho-physiological. An out- "~ ward aspect of it isJajjghjtejL (8) Among accessory means to the effect of comedy, the musical element is very helpful, as is also the spec- tacular, the latter, one may imagine, especially in comedies where the scene is laid in another world 2 — as in the Birds or the Frogs. (9) There is a pleasm-p arisin g from the marvelous . -> and the marvelous is to some extent admissible in 1 The word qt&aQtixov is often translated 'destructive,' the usual meaning in Aristotle (see Bonitz, s. v. tpS-aQzixot) ; but here perhaps we should say 'corrupting.' See below, pp. 87-8, 176. 2 Cf. Poetics 18 ; see below, p. 208. 62 INTRODUCTION comedy. Wonder gives rise to learning, and learning is pleasant. (10) ^ Discoveries (re cognitions, whether of persons or things, or of deeds, but especially of the identity of persons) afford pleasure in all stories, and hence in comedy; so also reversals, of fortu ne. In the most amusing situations, discovery is attended by such reversal. In comedy the reversal will be from worse fortune to better; or, if from better to worse, at all events it will not be serious or painful. (n) As in tragedy there is a kind of incident hav- ing the technical name of pathos or ' suffering ' (such as wounds, violent deaths, and the like), so in comedy there will be an incident or incidents of a ludicrous or especially hilarious or joyful sort. (12) In Rhetoric 1.11 we meet several of the fore- going points, with additions. At the beginning of the chapter Aristotle defines pleasure as ' a certain motion of the soul, and a settling, sudden and perceptible, into one's normal and natural state.' Further on he says : ' Won der and learning ^tocy..are generally pleas- ant ; wonder, because it involves the desire to learn, and hence the wonderful is an object of desire ; and learn- ing, because it involves a settling into one's natural state.' At the end of the chapter he alludes to the pleasure of the laughable : ' Since amusement and relaxation of every kind are among pleasant things, and laughter, too, it follows that the causes of laughter must be pleasant — namely, persons, utterances, and deeds. 1 But the forms of the ludicrous have had a separate treatment in the Poetics.' 1 'Av&gianovs xai Xoyovg xni egya. Jebb translates Xnyovg by 'words'; Welldon renders the phrase by 'whether a person or tale or circumstance.' In Poetics 20 we see that a Uyog may THE EFFECT OF COMEDY — ARISTOTLE 63 More of this chapter, and other extracts from Aris- totle on pleasure in general, will be found in a later section. 1 So much, I believe, may fairly be asserted or inferred regarding the effect of comedy in the light of the Poetics, with the help of one or two general notions familiar to every student of Aristotle. When we approach the crucial question, however, we are on uncertain ground. What in an Aristotelian theory of comedy would c orrespon d to th q r.atha.r sig of pity and fear which is the proper effect of tragedy ? (1) Perhaps nothing definite ; we may as well begin sceptically. Perhaps like Cicero, Aristotle approved laughter merely ' because it softens or unbends sorrow and severity.' 2 Possibly, as McMahon contends, ' the sig nificance of th .fi thflf)Ty " f rathargig wa,p. jirr|alj in Ar istotle's view ' ; 3 scholars may have too readily assumed the existence of a comprehensive and search- ing treatment of the subject, differentiated for tragedy and comedy. The Politics sends the reader to the Poetics for a fuller account of catharsis, 4 but the refer- ence may be an interpolation, casual and misleading. Or, accepting the authenticity of the reference, possibly we may argue thus : Aristotle noted the fact of the catharsis as something ultimate; in medicine one is less concerned with the process of purgation, so long as it duly occurs, than with the means of effecting it ; include anything from a single statement up to the entire Iliad. See my 'Amplified Version,' p. 69; and compare below, p. 211. 1 See below, pp. 132-40. 2 See below, p. 88. 3 McMahon, pp. 23-5. 4 See below, p. 130. 64 INTRODUCTION having noted it as a fact in tragedy, in the Poetics he elaborates upon the means by which it is to be pro- duced, without hammering at a plain and accepted observation. In this way, much of the work may be said to deal with the tragic purgation, and, tragedy being for him the representative type of poetry in gen- eral, the reference from the Politics is justified as matters stand. When he dealt with comedy, he might, according to this view, have little to say about the fact of a comic catharsis, and yet dwell sufficiently upon the means by which laughter is properly aroused. As Bywater believes, 1 Aristotle, though a systematic philosopher, was not systematic, as a modern writer would be, in attempting to harmonize all his utter- ances on related topics as they were taken up in differ- ent connections, or even under different associations of thought in the same work. If he actually defined comedy in terms of its effect, it is strange that no intelligible, clearly-marked vestige of his definition has come down to us. The definition in the Tractate 2 offers no saf e - foothold-; it seems, though scholars are not unanimous in this opinion, 3 to be imitated (not by Aristotle) from his definition of tragedy, at least so far as concerns the catharsis. The remarks of Cicero 4 indicate that, conversant as he was with Peripatetic writings, he was unacquainted with any good scientific treatment of the ludicrous as a means of purgation. Nor does the evidence of Proclus Diadochus help us more. 5 There is no aid from antiquity, early or late. It may be, then, that 1 Bywater, pp. xiii-xvii. 2 See below, p. 224. 3 Kayser, p. 31. 4 See below, pp. 87-9. 5 See below, p. 84. THE EFFECT OF COMEDY — ARISTOTLE 65 Aristotle, like the modern psychologist, 1 was baffled, could not explain the nature of comedy by its effect upon the human organism (soul and body), and hence could give no definition of comedy parallel to his defi- nition of tragedy. Nevertheless, while realizing that we are treading uncertain ground, we may consider the problem from various sides. (2) The function of tragedy is to arouse, and by arousing to relieve, two of the common disturbing emotions of daily life. Aristotle, it would seem, be- lieved that men in general suffer from pity and fear, and other latent emotions, and may be relieved from the burden of pity and fear through witnessing the artistic representation of things piteous and fearful in tragedy. The cure is homeopathic., . We may~t? therefore examine the Nicomachean Ethics, where pity and fear are discussed at some length with other emotions, in order to see which of these latter con- ceivably might take the place of tragic pity and fear in a definition of comedy. In Book 2, chapter 4, Aristotle says : > ^ ' By the emotions I mean desire, anger, fear, courage, ^j envy, joy, love, hatred, regret, emulation, pity — in / general, whatever is attended by pleasure or pain.'JJ^ The list, while ending in an et cetera, can hardly be supposed to omit any emotion regarded by the author as habitual among men. To Arictntl^ ^Imp^t any emotional excesses objec- tionab le, and in nee d of restraint or^correction. But 1 Compare L. Dugas, Psychologie du Eire, Paris, 1902, pp. 166-7 : 'Le rire n'est pas un genre, mais une collection d'especes. II n'est pas une entite psychologique, mais une particularite qui se rencontre en des etats differents et contraires. ... Un accident . . n'est point proprement objet de science. . C'est done a une conclusion toute negative que notre etude aboutit.' 66 INTRODUCTION if we must find in the list two emotions equally common with pity and fear, and specially capable of relief through comedy, why not take anger and envy ? Plato associates these two with comedy in the Philebus. 1 And Aristotle, in beginning a similar list in the Rhetoric, says : ' The emotions are those things, being attended by pleasure and pain, by which men are altered in regard to their judgments — as,axigex^jpijt}ir4efti^-and the like, with their opposites.' 2 Further on he notes that ' We are placable when we are in a condition opposed | to angry feeling, for example, at a time of sport or ' laughter or festivity ' ; 3 and later he takes up the discussion of envy and emu- lation. 4 The analysis of anger and envy in the Rhetoric has many points of contact with that in the Philebus ; but we must forego the comparison. Let us observe instead that both emotions are rather constant in daily life ; nearly every one cherishes at least a latent anger against~some~olie"!noliFcTt^^ same _^is true of envy. They are, like pity and fear, inti- mately related ; both are disturbing jsnolions ; and their catharsis would amount to. a form of pleasure as distinct as is the catharsis of the tragic"*emotions. Further, they are the chief manifestations of what we still term ' ill humor ' ; the ancient theory of dis- quieting bodily and mental humors, an excess of which it may be desirable to purge away by specifics, thus lives on in popular linguistic usage. And Aristotle himself was thinking in terms of the Greek ' humoral ' medicine when he marked the cathartic effect of 1 See below, pp. 114- 6. 2 Rhetoric 2. 1. 3 Ibid. 2. 3. 4 Ibid. 2. 10-11. THE EFFECT OF COMEDY — ARISTOTLE 67 tragedy. Now it is obvious that, if you succeed in mak- ing an angry or envious man laugh with pleasure, he ceases for a time to be angry or envious. Thus anger and envy might be said to be purged away by comedy. There, can be no doubt that comedy does have an influ- ence of the sort. And it is the outstanding facts of experience, and of dramatic art, that are uppermost in the Poetics of Aristotle. It may be objected, however, that in this view the cure wrought by comedy is not, like the cure effected by tragedy, homeopathic, but, on the contrary, is allopathic. The generalized emotions of pity and fear in a tragic poem are a specific for the pity and fear of the individual in the audience ; whereas anger and envy in the individual may be removed by something very unlike them in"comedy. ~ The comic poet may represent irasciBle~ancTenvious men, but will not necessarily do so ; he may choose other types, as the ironical man, the braggart, and the buffoon. To this we might answer j that, comedy being in many ways the reyersjLof tragedy, its effect may well ^"aUc^athic rather than homeo- \ gajhlc] The comic catharsis may be more direct, and ^J more violent, too, than the tragic. ^(3) But let us go a little deeper. Anger and envy are emotions that arise from a sense of injury or in- ~\ justice, or, mofeTgenerally stated, from a se nse of J disproportion. You have so much income, I but half as much ; the dispr oportion is painful_ to, me, since I think myself quite as intelligent as you, and believe I am in various ways the better man of the two. You also, disregarding me, suffer from a mental comparison of your fortune and deserts with those of some one else. These fancied or real disproportions — and they are number- less in daily life — become oppressive as we meditate 68 INTRODUCTION and exaggerate them. Take us both to witness a comic drama — the Plutus of Aristophanes, where the universal i nequalities o f wealth and poverty, the acci- dents of distribution, are still furtherexaggerated on the stage, and become ludicrous to all. As the play ad- vances, we begin to see the law of proportion in a clear- er light. At the end we are free from the accumulated burden of painful emotion, are relieved of the sense of disproportion — and by a homeopathic means. Through the generalized representation ' the spectator loses what was before merely individual in his own ex- perience ; the painful element is gone ; and a harmless pleasure has ensued. If we admit the reality of a comic catharsis, we must grant that the effect proceeds from the use, in comedy, of dramatic suspense, and from the a rousal and de feat of our expectations in various ways. The principle has a wide range of manifestations ; it may show itself in the action, when the sequence of events is other than we anticipated ; or in the characters, when, without belying their nature, they nevertheless surprise us ; or in the course of a speech, when the argument seems to follow some sort of law, yet issues in something un- expected ; or in the diction, when we await one com- bination of words, and meet another. The function of suspense in the tragic catharsis has been examined by an ingenious critic, who, rightly, I believe, main- tains that this function is not duly reckoned with in other explanations of the Aristotelian term. 1 The function in comedy of suspense, with a cheated expec- <^ tation ending in a release of mental energy, 2 is hinted i x W. D. Moriarty, The Function of Suspense in the Catharsis, \ Ann Arbor, 191 1. 3 See below, pp. 77-9. THE EFFECT OF COMEDY — ARISTOTLE 69 at by a number of passages in Aristotle, as, for example, in the Rhetoric and the Problems. 1 The relation between suspense and surprise is much the same in comedy and tragedy ; the difference grows out of the seriousness or triviality of the incidents, and out of the misery or joy of the event. In Problems 35.6 laughter is defined as ' a sort of surprise and deception.' (4) In the foregoing we assume that the end of comedy is pleasure. But there is another possibility, if the definition in the Tractate is worth considering — if it has more than a superficial relation to the works of Aristotle, and particularly to the Ethics. According to the definition, comedy ' through pleasure and laughter ' effects a "catharsis of the said emotions.' 2 Now to Aristotle the end of life is not pleasure ; it is a serious_end. 3 JL'he highest activity oFman is found in the life of philoso phic cont emplation, the speculative life. Such a life, of course, fs~~noY~devbid of satis- faction ; it is in itself the noblest and fullest satisfaction of human nature, human desire. It does not exclude harmless recreation ; recreation, a sufficient activity of the emotional nature (such as comes with the artistic arousal of pity and fear in tragedy), and indeed the exercise of all our lower faculties within reasonable limits — all these are not merely countenanced by him, but encouraged. Yet in the last analysis he looks upon recreation, not as an end in itself, but as a means to ah end. This end, once more, is the free play of our highest faculties in the life of contemplation. In this way he would think that comedy in providing us with its specific pleasure, and by arousing laughter, 1 See below, pp. 146-7, 163-5. ' 2 See below, p. 228. s See below, p. 134. 70 INTRODUCTION gave occasional vent to certain passing emotional states, and thus left us free for the serious concerns of life. By. comedy, then,. we should-h^-cu r e d of a desire <2i to Jaugb-^LiJb£LJHaM»g time, and at the wrong things, i through being made to laugh at the proper time by the right means. These considerations, we must allow, are remote from the Poetics, where Aristotle is concerned with poetry <£_ in and for itself. In this work he is not concerned with the end of private life, as he is in the Ethics, or with the end of public life, as he is in the Politics, but with the end of poetry and the ends of its several species. True, he honors poetry — comedy as well as tragedy and the epic — because it is by nature philosophic and universal ; it is just as concrete as history, and yet more general. But if anything is certain about his view of comedy, it is that the comic poet must aim at producing a definite pleasure. And thus the most unlucky gu ess of the epitomator in the Tractate would seem to Be that comedy, viewed in relation to its own end, aims ■■^ at the purgation of pleasure. Yet his connection of both ' pleasure ' and ' laughter ' with the end of Comedy may be helpful, as we shall see. 1 (5) It is possible, again, that Aristotle would, under different circumstances, recognize different effects of comedy ; that in one connection he would note a cathar- were overcome byjhe^ one immediately ^following, in which" we are"aBle to " discard our strained attention, to free_ojH^eIvesJiQjnJJae^^ _ — ^ accumulatedand henceforth m suEe^uous,^^foelj>jjr- ^ selves reasonabl£ jan d rftlia vp id—af --tTTviirdp.Ti. This is the pleasure of the comic, with its physiological equiv- alent, laughter. If the unpleasant fact that has occurred should painfully affect our interests, pleasure would not arise, laughter would be at once choked, the psychic energy would be strained and overstrained by other more serious perceptions. If, on the other hand, such more serious perceptions do not arise, if the whole loss be limited to a slight deception of our foresight, then the supervening feeling of our psychic wealth affords ample compensation for this very slight dis- , pleasure. — This, stated in a few words, is one of the most accurate modern definitions of the co mic. } It boasts of containing, justified or corrected, the manifold attempts to define the comic, from Hellenic antiquity to our own day. It includes Plato's dictum in the Philebus, and Aristotle's , j vhich is more explicit. The^ K, latter looks upon' the co mic as an ugliness without -pain^P* >> It contains the theory of Hobbes, who placed it in the feeling of indivi dual superio rity ; of Kant, who saw in / it a rel axation of tensi on; and .those of other thinkers, j for whom it was the' co ntrast between great and sm all S~. bet ween th e finite and~~th~ e infinite . But, on close*"'^ observation, the analysis and definition above given, although most elaborate and rigorous in appearance, yet enunciates [sic] characteristics which are applic- able, not only to the comic, but to every spiritual process ; such as the s uccession of p ajnjiil a.nfl agregs'blfL. moments and the satisfaction "arising from the con- sciousness of force and of its free development. The differentiation here given is that of quantitative deter- minations, to which limits cannot be assigned. They remain vague phrases, attaining to some meaning from their reference to this or that single comic fact. 80 INTRODUCTION | If such definitions be taken too seriously, there happens I to them what Jean Paul Richter said of all the definitions of ■ / the comic : namely, that their sole merit is to be themselves L^^comic, and to produce, in reality, the fact which they ^""vainly try to define logically. And who will ever de- termine logically the dividing line between the comic and the non-comic, between smiles and laughter, between smiling and gravity ; who will cut into clearly divided parts that ever- varying continuity into which life melts ? ' x One may rejoin : Why distinguish, as Croce has just done, between the conceptions of Plato, Aristotle, Hobbes, Kant, and ' other thinkers ' ? Human anal- ysis, like the rest of human art (including comedy), is imperfect — that is, less successful, and more success- ful. There are better theories of comedy, and worse. The analysis set forth by Croce is worth while, if only to the student of Aristotle. (9) One other modern theory we may barely refer to, that of George^^redith. Among modern literary critics this writerTias the distinction of singling out the effect of comedy upon the audience, and the right sort of audience, as the true criterion of comic excellence. His emphasis so far is like that of Aristotle. Meredith, however, describes the effect as if it were, or should be, chiefly intellectual rather than emotional, thus: ' To touch and kindle the mind through laughter.' 2 And when he demands, as a final ' test of true comedy,' that it shall ' a waken thoughtful lau ghter.' 3 the restric- tion is too narrow. Writers from Aristophanes to Shakespeare and Moliere have employed every sort of means to arouse laughter — lofty wit, and naughty as well, — tending only to avoid what is painful or 1 Croce, Aesthetic, trans, by Ainslie, pp. 148-51 * Se * m y edition of Meredith, An Essay on Comedy and the Uses of the Comic Spirit, New York, 1918, p. 76. 3 Ibid., p. 141. THE EFFECT OF COMEDY — MOLIERE 8l corrupting. But the preference of Meredith reminds one of the supposed preference of Aristotle for comic " innuendo.' ' TnaFHie effect of comedy includes more than a stirrjag...o£ the^ mind we may gather fronTlhTTonuc"""' poet whom Meredith calls most successful. Moliere, who reveals his own opinion through some of the speakers in La Critique de I'Ecole des Femmes, evidently thinks that for him ' the great art is that of pleasing. ' x And he clearly regards the accessories of music and dancing as very important. 2 The attempt to make the honorable public laugh is not altogether an affair of the mind : ' II y faut plaisanter ; et c'est une etrange entreprise que celle de faire rire les honnetes gens.' 3 Yet, as the Critique shows, conscious art is a necessary adjunct to natural gift in the poet. Further, for Moliere, comedy has a sanative effect. So Uranie judges with regard to L'Ecole des Femmes : ' As for me, I find that comedy more capjbj£_o^punng^peojpjethan of making them ill.' 4 To the same purport Clitandre, as he introduces the element of song, instrumental music, and dance at the close of L' Amour Medecin : ' These are persons that I bring with me, whom I constantly employ to quiet [pacifier] with their har- mony and their dances the troubles of the soul. ' Where- upon the personages of ' Comedy,' ' The Ballet,' and ' Music ' sing as follows : Sans nous, tous les hommes Deviendraient malsains, Et c'est nous qui sommes Leurs grands medecins. 1 Speech of Dorante, scene 7. 2 See the Avertissement to Les Facheux. 3 Another speech of Dorante, as above. 4 La Critique [etc.], scene 3. f 82 INTRODUCTION Then ' Comedy ' in a solo tells us that, if we wish by- gentle means to reduce the splenic vapors that prey upon us all, we must come to her and her companions : Veut-on qu'on rabatte Par des moyens doux, Les vapeurs de rate Qui vous minent tous ? Qu'on laisse Hippocrate, Et qu'on vienne a nous. 1 Perhaps the genius of Moliere h as here, out of ex- perience and ohservatioh, as well as from a consider- able knowledge of poetic theory, actuaJlyJiii-upon the r-- Aristotelian notion of the comic catha rsis, or something very near it. (10) It has been remarked that we have no unmistak- able vestiges of a theory of comic catharsis by Aris- totle, or of a definition of comedy by him implying such catharsis. 2 We realize that any views he may have had on the subject are for us problematical; and any opinion we may form concerning them is wholly inferential. However, in addition to the evidence in the Tractate and similar documents on comedy, there are other indications of an ancient theory of the effect of comedy, and of a comic catharsis, which may or may not heighten the probability that Aristotle discussed the question. In the work now known as De Mysteriis, doubtfully attributed to Iamblichus (died circa a. d. 330), the author, having alluded to the phallus as symbolic of ' the generative energy of the world,' proceeds: ' Most of these things [phalli, in particular] are conse- crated in the spring, because the whole world then re- ceives from the gods the power which is productive of all generation ; and I take it the obscene language that is uttered indicates the privation of the beautiful in the 1 V Amour Midecin 3. 7, 8. 2 See above, p. 64. THE EFFECT OF COMEDY — IAMBLICHUS 83 world of matter, and the previous deformity of all things that are to be variously adorned; for, these material things being in need of adornment, they long for it the more, the more they despise their own un- comeliness. Again, therefore, they pursue after the causes of specific forms and of the beautiful, since from the mention of ugly things they perceive the ugly; and although they avoid the doing of deeds that are ugly, they manifest their knowledge thereof through the words, and transfer their longing to the opposite of the ugly. ' These things afford still another argument, as fol- lows. The forces of the human emotions in us, if entirely restrained, bestir themselves more vehemently ; while if stirred into action but gradually and within measure, they rejoice moderately and are satisfied ; and, thus purified, they become obedient, and are checked without violence. It is on this account that, when we witness the emotions of others, in both comedy and tragedy, we halt our own emotions, work them off more moderately, and are purged of them. In the sacred ceremonies also, by certain spectacles and by hearing things that are ugly, we are released from the harm that would come from the deeds themselves. ' Things of this sort, therefore, are introduced for the cure of our soul, and in order to moderate the evils adhering to the soul through generation, and also to loose and release it from its bonds. And on this account Heraclitus very properly terms them ' cures,' meaning that they will cure dreadful ailments, and render the soul free from the calamities incident to generation.' 1 Proclus Diadochus (a. d. 410—85), in his commentary on the Republic of Plato, seems to have in mind the Poetics of Aristotle at first or second hand, but his allusion to a catharsis of comedy may proceed from the other ' champions ' of tragedy and comedy ; that is, it may or may not point to a discussion of a comic catharsis in Aristotle : 1 Iamblichus De Mysteriis 1. 11, ed. by Parthey, 1857, pp. 38-40. fa 84 INTRODUCTION ' We must tell, . . . secondly, why, in particular he [Plato] does not admit [into the ideal State] comedy and tragedy; and that, too, when they contribute to a purgation of those emotions which it is neither possible wholly to choke in, nor yet safe to gratify completely, since they in fact require a movement, as it were, at the proper time, and this movement, being effected when we hear a recital of these emotions, renders us undisturbed by them for the rest of the time. . . . ' As for the second problem : this was his rejection of tragedy and comedy — an absurd rejection if it be true that, through these, [the players] can measurably satisfy the emotions, and in thus satisfying them render good service to the cause of education by healing what is painful in those emotions. Be that as it may, although this rejection has afforded ample grounds of complaint both to Aristotle and to the champions of these forms of poetry against the arguments of Plato, I for my part shall, in accordance with my previous utterances, solve the problem somewhat as follows. Everything that tends to imitate all sorts of characters is most alien to the induction of youth into virtue ; since through its imitation it enters into the thoughts of the hearers, and also through its artful diversity becomes hurtful to them ; for, whatsoever be the things imitated, such must the one who is peculiarly sensitive to the imitation become. For virtue is simple, and very like to God himself, to whom we say the term unity is especially appropriate. So, then, the person who would become like to such a one must flee from the life that is opposed to simplicity, and therefore it will be necessary to purge him of all diversity ; and, if so, it will also be necessary for him when he is a youth, and when because of his youth he is impressible, to stand utterly aloof from all pursuits that drag him down into diversity. Clearly, then, we should beware of both tragedy and comedy, since they imitate all sorts of characters, and assault the hearers with pleasure ; lest what is seductive in them drag into accord that in the soul which is easy to seduce, and thus fill up the life of the children with the evils which the imitation effects ; and lest, instead of the THE EFFECT OF COMEDY — PROCLUS 85 measurable purgation appertaining to the emotions, these forms of poetry beget in their souls a bias that is evil and hard to cleanse away, since that bias causes the traits of unity and simplicity to disappear, and from the fondness for all sorts of imitations their souls are stamped with the opposite impressions. Moreover, since these two kinds of poetry notably reach out toward that in the soul which is most exposed to the emotions — comedy rousing in us the love of pleasure and drawing us into absurd bursts of laughter, tragedy fostering in us the love of grief and dragging us down to ignoble outbursts of tears, and each of them nourishing the emotional element in us, and so much the more as each accomplishes its special function ; therefore I, too, say that the statesman should devise excretions, as it were, of these emotions, yet not in such a way as to intensify the special passions connected with them, but on the contrary to curb these passions, and in a suitable way to regulate their movements. But since, after all, those forms of poetry, in addition to their diversity, lack measure in their appeals to these emo- tions, they are far from being useful for purgation; for purgations consist, not in excessive movements, but in contracted actions which have but a slight resemblance to those emotions of which they purge.' 1 It is tantalizing to have Proclus just miss divulging whether or not he actually knew of an Aristotelian comic catharsis. Other hints of a theory respecting the end of comedy — one that may have originated with Aristotle or his immediate successors — are found in the treatises edited by Kaibel. Thus the scholiast (either Melampus, of the third century a. d., or Dio- medes, of the fourth) on Dionysius Thrax (circa b. c. 170—90) remarks : ' And the aim of tragedy is to move the hearers to tears, while the aim of comedy is to move them to 1 Proclus Diadochus In Platonis Rem Publicam 360, 362, ed. by Kroll, 1. 42, 49-5°- 86 INTRODUCTION laughter. Wherefore, they say, tragedy dissolves life, and comedy consolidates it.' 1 Again, John Tzetzes (circa a. d. iiio— 1180) has caught up the following : ' Comedy is an imitation of an action, . . . purgative of emotions, constructive of life, moulded by laughter and pleasure. Tragedy differs from comedy in that tragedy has a story and a report of things [or ' deeds '] that are past, although it represents them as taking place in the present, but comedy embraces fictions of the affairs of everyday life ; and in that the aim of tragedy is to move the hearers to lamentation, while the aim of comedy is to move them to laughter.' 2 Another passage from the same Tzetzes reads : ' The peculiar characteristic of comedy is the mix- ture of laughter with gibes, while tragedy has sorrow and misfortunes. The characteristic of the satyr- drama is not a change from grief to joy (as, for example, in the Orestes and Alcestis of Euripides, and the Electra of Sophocles in part), as some say, but it has unmixed and joyous and boisterous laughter.' 3 And a final one from Tzetzes, who has gathered from various sources : ' The comic poet, ridiculing in his comedies some plunderer and evil-doer and pestilent fellow, for the rest settles all into decorum. Thus tragedy dissolves life, while comedy founds it firmly, and renders it solid, as does the satyr-drama together with comedy, being compounded of gloom and joy.' 4 The inconsistency of Tzetzes need not detain us ; he put together his scraps of information in his own un- critical way. The last passage begins with a statement which we find also in Horace (b. c. 65—8), and which probably came to him from an Alexandrian writer. 5 1 Kaibel, p. 14. 4 Kaibel, pp. 36-7. 2 Ibid., p. 17; see below, p. 287. 5 Horace, Satires 1. 4. 1-5. 3 Kaibel, p. 21. THE EFFECT OF COMEDY — CICERO 87 But Horace, in whose criticism we should expect to find something on the emotional function of comedy, if a definite Greek theory was known to his time, gives us nothing to build on in this particular ; even his knowledge of Aristotle on tragedy comes to him at second or third hand. Cicero (b. c. 106—43) refers to the theorists on laughter in a slighting manner that he would hardly use if he were acquainted with a comic catharsis in Aristotle. But he is familiar with certain doctrines of the Poetics, seemingly in a more extended form than we now possess, and with distinctions which we find in the Tractatus Coislinianus. Of course he is familiar, too, with the Aristotelian Rhetoric. Indeed, being preoccupied with rhetorical theory and practice, he makes a distinction which we must not fail to ob- serve, between what is suitable to forensic eloquence, and what to comedy proper : ' In regard to laughter, there are five points for investigation ; first, what it is ; secondly, whence it arises ; thirdly, whether it behoves the orator to pro- voke laughter ; fourthly, to what extent ; fifthly, what are the several species of the ridiculous. As to the first, what laughter is : by what means it is raised, wherein it consists, in what manner it bursts out, and is so suddenly discharged that, though we were willing, we have no power to stifle it, and in what manner it all at once takes possession of our sides, our mouth, our veins, our eyes, our countenance — let Democritus explain all that. They are not to my present purpose, and if they were, I should not at all be ashamed to say that I did not know them ; for even they who pretend to account for them know nothing, of the matter. But the place and, as it were, the province of the ridiculous (for that is the next question) lies within the limits of ugliness and a certain deformity ; for those expressions are alone, or especially, ridiculous which disclose and represent some ugliness in a not unseemly fashion. 88 INTRODUCTION But, to come to the third point, it is evidently an orator's I business to provoke a laugh . . . above all because it ' softens or unbends sorrow and severity. . . . Neither an eminent or flagitious villain nor a wretch remarkably harassed with misfortunes is the proper subject of / ridicule. . . . (59) Moderation, therefore, is chiefly to f be observed in matters of wit. And the objects that are most easily played upon are those that deserve neither great detestation nor the greatest compassion. Hence it happens that the whole subject of the ridiculous lies in the moral vices of men who are neither beloved nor miserable, nor deserving to be dragged to punishment for their crimes. . . . Deformity and bodily defects are likewise happy enough subjects for ridicule. But let us consider what ought to be the main object of in- vestigation in other respects — how far we ought to go. Here we must make it a rule to do nothing insipidly, nor to act like a buffoon. An orator must avoid both extremes ; he must not make his jests too abusive nor Ptoo buffoonish. . . There are two kinds of humor ; I one arising from the thing, the other from the diction. ~~\ . . (61) There is no kind of wit, in which severe and serious things may not be derived from the subject. And we must take note also that not everything that is ludicrous is refined wit. What can be more ludi- crous than a buffoon [sannid] ? His mouth, his face, his mimicry, his voice, in short his whole body, is laughter itself. I might call him witty, but then his wit is of that kind which I would recommend, not to an orator, but to a player. (62) When a laugh therefore is raised by this first kind, which is the greatest source of laughter, and consists in representing the morose, the superstitious, the suspicious, the vaunting, the foolish, it is not owing to our wit, for these qualities are in their own nature ridiculous.' 1 1 Cicero De Oratore 2. (58) 235 - (62)251 ; I have altered the translation (1847) in The Classical Library, No. 37. See the whole passage on the laughable, De Oratore 2. (54) 216- (71)289, esp. 235, 238, 239, 248, 251, 264, 266; cf. Orator (26) 87-90. THE EFFECT OF COMEDY — CICERO 89 Cicero's allusion to Democritus, the ' laughing philos- opher,' leads nowhither; and his earlier reference to ' certain books in Greek ' (apparently several alike entitled On the Laughable), from which Caesar had no hope of learning anything, 1 is scarcely more useful — though Theophrastus is said to have produced a work of that name. 2 For much of his thought Cicero is indebted to post-classical Greek scholars such as Panaetius (b. c. 189-109), who came to Rome about b. c. 146. 3 It is impossible to draw a sharp line be- tween what he owes to Aristotle and what he has absorbed from Panaetius and other late authorities. His restric- tion of the ludicrous within the province of ' ugliness and a certain deformity ' directly or indirectly takes us to the Poetics ; 4 but his brief treatment of comic charac- ters is fuller and more precise than the general state- ments we now find in that work. His two sources of the ludicrous — from things, and from the diction — appear also in the Tractatus Coislinianus. 5 His final list of comic characters reminds one of the sketches in Theophrastus and the personages of the New Comedy, but probably emanates also from literary critics. A well- read critic himself, who assimilated all the learning of his age, and was grounded in the writings of the Socratics, Cicero in this passage no doubt combines elements "from several or many originals, unless he borrowed from a theorist who had already combined them. But he has nothing to give us on the effect of comedy in an Aristotelian sense. In him we are no 1 De Oratore 2. (54) 217. 2 Diogenes Laertius 5. (2) 46. 3 See G. C. Fiske, The Plain Style in the Scipionic Circle, in Classical Studies in Honor of Charles Forster Smith, Madison, Wis., 1919, pp. 62-105, esp. pp. 71-8. 4 See below, p. 176. 5 See below, pp. 224-5. go INTRODUCTION nearer to the main object of our search than in Proclus, perhaps not so near as in Tzetzes and the Tractate. For other chance hints in Aristotle himself the reader must turn to the Scattered Passages on Laughter at the end of the Introduction. 1 Here, then, we take leave of this part of our inquiry, without having reached a very positive conclusion. But as Cicero embraces both Platonic and Aristotel- ian doctrines, and mediates between them, I can lead up to the next topic (Aristotle and Plato on Comedy) by citing from him a few other passages. These all concern Aristophanes. The modern scholar who talks of 'Aristotle's condemnation of Old Comedy ' will also inform us that the same condemnation ' did not prevail generally among later theorists and critics,' 2 and will thus account for the unexpectedly favorable attitude of Cicero to the elder poet. But we have seen that Aristotle nowhere condemns the comedy of Aris- tophanes. 3 The view of Cicero, that the Old Comedy is the representative of the liberal and refined style of wit, is rather an argument for a continuous tradition, beginning with Aristotle, or even with Plato, in favor of Aristophanes. The reference to the latter in the Poetics, if it shows nothing else, shows that his suprem- acy in his kind is already a commonplace in literary criticism. The Plutarchian Abstract of a Comparison between Aristophanes and Menander, giving the prefer- ence to Menander, is necessarily later than Aristotle, and, if it be earlier than Plutarch, yet comes from a new stream of thought that arose after critics had begun to work on the New Comedy. The new stream ob- 1 See below, pp. 162-5. 2 See Fiske (who cites Hendrickson), p. 84. 3 See above, p. 21 ; compare below, pp. 155-7. THE EFFECT OF COMEDY — CICERO 91 viously runs counter to an established tradition, which nevertheless prevails down to Tzetzes and the Tractate, and extends to our own day. The reason why it has, prevailed lies in the transcendent genius of Aristophanes. All through the scholiasts, commentators, and critical treatises, the New Comedy takes second place; for the most part the criticism of it is a kind of appendage to the criticism of the Old, save in Roman writers mainly dealing with Latin comedy, and with Terence in par- ticular. For Cicero, ' Comedy is an imitation of life, a mirror of custom, an image of truth ' 1 ; — as, according to__ Aristotle, Alcidamas called the Odyssey ' a fair mirror of human life.' 2 And Cicero links comedy with the dialogues of Plato and others : ' There are, generally speaking, two sorts of jest: the one, coarse, rude, vicious, indecent ; the other, re- fined, polite, clever, witty. With this latter sort not only our own Plautus and the Old Comedy of Athens, but also the books of Socratic philosophy abound.' 3 Among the poets of the Old Comedy, Aristophanes is easily first. His modus is suavis and gravis, and Cicero notes in writing to his brother Quintus : ' Your letter, which he had a little before received, he gave to me to read — a letter in the Aristophanic manner, highly delightful and highly serious, I declare ! I was tremendously pleased with it.' 4 No wonder, when Aristophanes was ' the wittiest poet of the Old Comedy,' 5 and distinctly preferable to 1 Quoted by Donatus De Comoedia, in Kaibel, p. 67. 2 Aristotle, Rhetoric 3.3, thinks this metaphor unsuited to the style of an oration. 3 Cicero De Officiis 1. (29) 104, trans, by Miller, p. 107. 4 Cicero Ad Quintum Fratrem 3. 1. (6) 19. 5 De Legibus 2. (15) 37. 92 INTRODUCTION Eupolis. 1 Cicero has even got a little of the Acharnians (659-61) by heart, though not very accurately. 2 His interest in Aristophanes is, of course, the interest of an orator ; perhaps the best parallel to it is found in the Institutio Oratorio, of Quintilian, who says : ' The Old Comedy retains, almost alone, the pure grace of Attic diction, and the charm of a most eloquent freedom of language ; and though it is chiefly employed in attacking follies, yet it has great force in other depart- ments ; for it is sublime, elegant, and graceful ; and I know not whether any poetry, next to Homer's (whom it is always right to except, as he himself excepts Achilles), has either a greater resemblance to oratory, or is better adapted for forming orators. The authors of it are numerous ; but Aristophanes, Eupolis, and Cratinus are the principal.' 3 And here we may add excerpts from another passage in Quintilian that betray his dependence, direct or indirect, upon Plato and Aristotle, and upon other Greek writers more nearly of his own time, but probably dealing with the subject of the laughable in connection with rhetoric rather than comedy. Of his debts to Latin writers, that to Cicero is the greatest. Ouin- tilian, like Plato, sees a relation between laughter and the emotions of anger and hate or envy ; like Aristotle, he remarks upon the pleasantries suited and unsuited to the man of refinement ; and he gives us the same distinction as that found in the Tractatus Coislinianus between laughter arising from the diction and laughter arising from the things.* He naturally takes much of his oratorical theory from Cicero : 1 Ad Atticum 12. 6. 3. 2 Ibid. 8. 8. 2. See also Orator (9) 29. 3 Quintilian, Institutio Oratorio, 10. 1. 65-6, trans, by Watson, 260-1. 4 See below, pp. 224-5. THE EFFECT OF COMEDY — QUINTILIAN 93 ' Very different from this [the power of arousing com- passion] is the talent which, by exciting laughter in the judge, dispels melancholy affections, diverting his mind from too intense application to the subject before it, recruiting at times its powers, and reviving it after disgust and fatigue. . . . ' But the chief difficulty in respect to jesting comes from this, that a saying adapted to excite laughter generally contains a logical fallacy, is often purposely lowered toward the worse, and never made nobler ; and men's reaction to it will be varied, because we appreciate a jest, not by any rational process, but by a mental impulse that perhaps cannot be defined. At all events, although many have attempted an explanation, I think it has never been adequately explained whence laughter arises, which is excited not only by deed or word, but sometimes even by bodily touch. Further- more, laughter is not habitually produced by a single cause ; for not merely witty and agreeable utterances and actions are laughed at, but stupid, angry, and timid ones as well, and hence the ludicrous has no fixed origin, for risus is not remote from derisu. Thus, as Cicero says, the ridiculous ' has its seat in a certain deformity and ugliness,' and if these are made to appear in others the result is called raillery, while if they recoil upon the speakers it is called folly. ' Though laughter seems like a trifle, and is something that may be aroused by buffoons, mimics, and often even by fools, yet it has a power perhaps more despotic than anything else, and one that is well-nigh irresistible ; for it bursts forth in people not seldom against their will, and forces expression not merely through voice and features, but shakes the whole body with its vigor. And, as I have said, it often changes the tendency of the greatest affairs, as it very frequently dissipates hatred and anger [odium iramque]. . . . ' Now as to this talent, whatever it is, I should not, of course, venture to say that it is wholly independent of art ; for it may to some extent be cultivated by observation, and rules concerning it have been put together by Greek and Latin writers both. And yet 94 INTRODUCTION I distinctly affirm that in the main it depends on nature and opportunity. . . . Still there would be no harm in collecting exercises for the purpose ; fictitious causes might be pleaded with an admixture of jests ; or partic- ular theses might be proposed to the pupil for practice of this sort. Even those pleasantries (jokes as they are, and are called) which we are accustomed to utter on days of festal license might, with the addition of a little method, or with the admixture of some element of the serious, prove of no small utility to the orator ; as it is, they are merely a diversion of youth or of men at play. . . . ' But the proper field of the matter we are now dis- cussing is the laughable, and accordingly the whole subject is entitled by the Greeks xepl yskoiou. The first way of dividing this subject is the one that pertains to discourse as a whole, according as the laughable is found in things and words. But the application cer- tainly is triple : we try to raise a laugh at others, or at ourselves, or at affairs that are neutral. What proceeds from others we either blame, or refute, or make light of, or rebut, or elude. As to what concerns ourselves, we remark on the laughable, and, to use a phrase from Cicero, utter subabsurda ; for the same things which, if they fell from us inadvertently, would be foolish are, when simulated, deemed amusing. The third class, as Cicero says, consists in cheated expectations, when things are said in one way and taken in another, and the like ; since neither person is concerned, I call such matters "neutral." Further, we either do or say laughable things. . ' But it makes a difference where we indulge in jests. In social intercourse and daily talk less delicacy is allowable to the humbler class of mankind, amusing discourse to all. . . To an orator, distorted features and the gestures it is our habit to laugh at in mimics are wholly unsuited. So with scurrilous jests from the comic stage; they are absolutely out of character in him. As for obscenity, he should avoid it not only in word, but in allusion. . . . THE EFFECT OF COMEDY — QUINTILIAN 95 ' I may say that laughter is educed either from the corporal peculiarities of him against whom we speak, or from his ethos, which is to be gathered from his acts and utterances, or from external circumstances relating to him. . . ' But as there are innumerable topics from which jokes may be drawn, I must repeat that they are not all suited to orators. Unsuitable, first, are jokes aris- ing from ambiguities ; and similarly, obscene jests such as are usually aimed at in Atellan comedy ; and again, such as are bandied about by individuals of the lowest class, when ambiguities are promptly turned into per- sonal abuse. . . Nor do ambiguous terms always only signify several things ; they may signify things of the most diverse sorts. . . . ' This kind of jest is as poor as is the formation of names by adding, subtracting, or altering letters — as, for example, . . . turning the name Placidus into " Aci- dus," because the man had a sour disposition. . . . ' Those jokes are more choice and pointed which draw their force from external circumstances. Here resem- blance is of the utmost value, especially if it can be turned toward the worse and more trivial object. The ancients were given to this sort of pleasantry, calling Lentulus " Spinther " and Scipio " Serapion." Such jokes are derived, however, not only from human beings but from animals as well. . . . This mode of exciting laughter is now very common. Such comparisons are sometimes made openly, sometimes insinuated through a parallel. . . . Still more ingenious is the application of one thing to another because of a similarity between them, when we attribute to this case what commonly happens in that. . . . ' Are not many jokes made through the use of hyper- bole ? For example, Cicero says of a very tall man that " he had struck his head against the arch of Fabius." ... As for irony, is it not, when employed very gravely, a species of jesting ? . . . ' The subject includes all figures of thought ■ — Gyfaxnv. Btavofa?, as they are called, — into which some author- ities divide the modes of spoken utterance ; for we ask 96 INTRODUCTION questions, and express doubt, and affirm, and threaten, and wish, and we say some things in the mode of com- passion, and others in the mode of anger. But every- thing is laughable that is obviously pretended. . . . ' To joke upon oneself is hardly fit for any one but a buffoon, and is by no means allowable in an orator. It may be done in as many ways as we jest at others, and accordingly, in spite of its frequent occurrence, I will not discuss it. And whatever is said scurrilously or in passion, however laughable, is unfit for a refined gentleman. . . . ' There remains to be noticed the kind of joke that consists in a deceived expectation, or when words are meant to be taken in one way, and we take them in another ; and these are the happiest of all. . . . ' As for subabsurda, they consist in a pretence of folly, and would, if not pretended, be foolish. . . . ' So far as I have learnt from others or discovered for myself, the foregoing are the most usual sources from which jests may be derived.' 1 He has learnt much from the Aristotelian Rhetoric at first or second hand ; and he has much in common with the Tractate ; but his view of laughter is, first, ethical rather than mimetic, and, secondly and mainly, forensic. The moral, utilitarian view of Cicero, Quintil- ian, and the Romans in general, has been ably set forth by Fiske in his treatment of satire, with its mix- ture, ' now grave, now gay,' and its position in "the larger literary family of the cxou&xioyiloiov,' the common object of which is ' to convey philosophic truth under cover of a jest.' The ' Socratic books ' were the best models for the satire, ' which should be easy and not too aggressive, and should have the spice of wit.' The tone of the conversation ' should vary with the subject ' ; herein ' lies the psychological justi- 1 Translated from Quintilian, Institutio Oratoria, ed. by Rader- macher, 6. 3. 1, 6-9, 11, 15-6, 22-5, 28, 29, 37, 46-7, 50, 53, 57, 58-9, 61, 67, 68, 70, 82-3, 84, 99, 101. THE EFFECT OF COMEDY — CICERO 97 fication for the apparently informal, yet subtly artistic, development of the (mouloaoyiloiov by the Greek Cynics and Stoics, and by the Roman satirists, their successors.' But ' a sharp distinction must be made between the province of humor and that of invective.' Thus ' the spirit of the Old Comedy, ... in distinction from the spirit animating the iambic verses of Archilochus, or the poetry of Hipponax,' may be classed with the spirit of the cmoubaioyi'koi.ov in ' the later popular Cynic and Stoic philosophers,' who constantly traced their descent from the Old Comedy. But ' perhaps it would be more correct to say that the Old Comedy was the precursor of the Socratic literature,' to the tone of which Cynicism owed so much. In Horace, Satire 1.10. 10—16, we see that ' the Old Comedy has a style, now . . . tristis, now suggestive of the rhetorical and poetical, now acer — all words associated with the seriousness of the grand style, — but now iocosus, urbanus, and ridiculus, that is, smacking of true comic informality, ease, and charm.' And the latter qualities are associated with the conception of the ironical man (6 sipwv) , ' because Socrates best realized in actual life this type of humor, a type bound up with the con- ception of the plain style from the days of Socrates and Plato on.' Naturally, therefore, Cicero (in the Orator 60) ' distinctly indicates Plato as the master of this style and its appropriate type of humor ' (' et gravitate et suavitate princeps ') . And in accordance with the practice of Latin literary criticism — that is, ' of seeking national parallels to the representative writers of Greek literary forms ' — Plautus ' is regarded by Cicero as the Latin representative of the type of liberal humor affected by the Old Comedy.' 1 Language unfit 1 Fiske, pp. 77, 79, 85-6. 98 INTRODUCTION for a gentleman is discovered by Cicero, not in Aristoph- anes, but, as by Cicero's authority, Panaetius, in ' such coarse and careless Cynic or Stoic predecessors as Diogenes the Cynic, Zeno, or Chrysippus.' Panae- tius ' assails the aesthetic and moral coarseness of Cynic speech which sins equally against linguistic propriety and social decency.' 1 X ARISTOTLE AND PLATO ON COMEDY In Cicero we have the chief exponent at Rome of Aristotelian, and still more of Platonic, doctrines. We may now consider more fully a topic on one side of Which we have touched before in a passing allusion to Plato and Aristophanes. 2 As we have seen in the foregoing section, any reconstruction of Aristotle's views on the specific end of comedy is tentative; and hence an estimate of the similarities and differences between his views and those of his master, Plato, on the general tendency and value of this form of drama, must likewise in many respects be problematical. Yet here, as there, we are not without some means of form- ing a judgment, and various important details are reasonably or quite certain. We should expect similar- ities as well as differences ; and such there are. But before investigating either, we may sum up the ancient theories of the laughable in writers before Plato. I quote from Miss Grant, who has studied the subject in the pre-Socratic philosophers : ' To summarize these fragments of the early philos- ophers, we may say that in general they illustrate 1 Fi ske, pp. 75, 73. 2 See above, pp. 38-9. ARISTOTLE AND PLATO ON COMEDY 99 conventional morality of conduct as regards friendship, self-control in anger, and avoidance of evil-speaking and slander. A theory of the laughable is not defi- nitely formulated, but there are suggestions which later find an important place in the theory, such as the necessity of relaxation and laughter as a preparation for serious pursuits, avoidance of excess in laughter, condemnation of laughter directed at the unfortunate, necessity for the reformer to be free from serious faults himself. The philosophic attitude of laughter at the faults of mankind is illustrated in the character of Democritus, while in several of the fragments the typical reaction of the people toward the jester, evil- speaker, and reformer is shown.' 1 And for another preliminary step we may use the summary of Miss Grant regarding the conceptions found in Plato himself : ' In these passages of Plato, several important ideas are brought forward : the kinship of the ridiculous with what is morally or physically faulty; the justification of laughter as a means of understanding serious things, and the beginning of the conception of u^ouSaioye^oiov ; 2 the need of restraint in laughter in everyday conduct ; the distinction of the good-natured and ill-natured jests ; and, finally, the justification of the use of laughter against vice and folly.' 3 We should bear in mind, however, that the views thus abstracted are scattered through the Platonic Dialogues, that they mostly arise almost by chance in the treat- ment of other subjects, and that perhaps in no Dialogue save the Laws can we completely identify the utter- 1 Mary A. Grant, The Ancient Rhetorical Theories of the Laugh- able in Cicero and Horace, University of Wisconsin doctoral disser- tation, 1917 (in manuscript), pp. 6-7. 2 Compare Horace, Satire 1. 1. 24-5: ' Quamquam ridentem dicere verum quid vetat?' And see Plato, Symposium 197 c, Phaedrus 234 d, Apology 20 d. These passages are noted by Miss Grant. 3 Miss Grant, p. 14. g2 ioo INTRODUCTION ances of any speaker with the thoughts of the author himself. In the Philebus alone is there anything like a consideration of comedy in and for itself; and even here the treatment by Socrates occupies but a small fraction of the Dialogue, which as a whole is concerned with the meaning of the general term pleasure. *~ The type of writing which Plato chose for his medium of expression, the dialogue, is one that enables an author to approach the truth from various sides, and by gradual stages. In the preliminary stages the speakers may offer tentative expressions of the truth, or half-truths, or positive untruths. The argument advances by elim- ination of the false and a convergence upon whatever survives the test of dialectic. The result may or may not be expressly stated in sober prose. In general we may believe that the ultimate truth is seldom reached in the discussion proper, but is finally caught together and embodied in the myth, this last being the most imaginative part of a whole (namely, the Dialogue) which is itself an imaginative or poetical creation. The poetical quality of the Platonic Dialogues has been recognized by many writers, from Aristotle to Shelley. Thus, in the Poetics} Aristotle groups ' Socratic Conversations ' with the mimes of Sophron and Xenar- chus as a type of mimetic composition which thus far had received no common name. And again, according to Diogenes Laertius, ' Aristotle says that the type of his [Plato's] Dialogues is between a poem and ordinary prose. ' 2 Cicero thinks the style of Plato more poetic than that of comedy. 3 In modern times, Shelley regards Plato as first of all a poet. 4 And Egger says of the Platonic 1 See below, p. 168. 2 Diogenes Laertius 3. 37; Aristotle, frg. 73, Rose (1886), p. 78. 3 Cicero, Orator (20) 67. * Shelley, Defence of Poetry, ed. by Cook, p. 9. ARISTOTLE AND PLATO ON COMEDY 101 Dialogue : ' It is the drama of the school ; as comedy is the drama of public life, and of private.' 1 Again, the works of Plato not only belong to the gen- eral family of the dialogue; most of them also fall under a definite species of this genus, which Aristotle calls ' Socratic Conversations,' a type of literature that was produced by other authors as well as by Plato, and even before him. On this head we have the testimony of Diogenes Laertius and Athenaeus, both of them citing Aristotle : 'They say that Zeno of Elea was the first to write dialogues ; but Aristotle in the first part of On Poets says it was Alexamenus of Styra, or of Teos, as Favorinus records in his Commentaries.' 2 So Diogenes Laertius ; Athenaeus gives more : ' He [Plato] elaborately praises Meno, though he condemns the others one and all, in the Republic banish- ing Homer and imitative poetry, although he himself wrote dialogues which themselves were imitative. Yet he was not the inventor of the type, for before him Alexamenus of Teos invented this type of argument. . . . Aristotle in his work [ ? or ' dialogue '] On Poets writes as follows : " Accordingly, though the mimes, as they are called, of Sophron can not be included under the head of metrical compositions, may we not term them dialogues and imitations, and similarly the Dia- logues of Alexamenus of Teos, which were the first Socratic Dialogues to be written ? " In these words the most learned Aristotle plainly declares that Alexam- enus wrote dialogues before Plato.' 3 In this species ot writing a kind of literary and tradi- tional Socrates is the chief speaker ; and the speeches are devised to fit this traditional character, a wise man 1 Egger, p. 228. 2 Diogenes Laertius 3. 48 ; Aristotle, frg. 72, Rose, pp. 77-8. 3 Athenaeus 11. 505c; Aristotle, frg. 72, Rose, p. 78. For Alexamenus, see Hirzel, Dev Dialog 1. 100-2. 102 INTRODUCTION in search of truth and beauty, but one who at the same time is ' ironical.' He is, in fact, the ' ironical man ' of all time. As such, he is obviously related to one of the types of character proper to comedy, a fact that seems to be recognized by Aristotle. 1 On the other hand, his manner of speech, plain and natural, is allied to the style of the mime, a brief humorous or farcical dialogue using the customary medium of prose ; while the mime, in turn, has its own affiliation with comedy. Thus there is a triple interrelation between the Platonic dialogue, the mimes of Sophron, and the mimes and comedies of Epicharmus. Plato loves Sophron and Epicharmus as well as Aristophanes. 2 Accordingly, it is not by chance that Aristotle con- nects ' Socratic Conversations ' with the mimes of Sophron and Xenarchus. His seemingly casual refer- ence implies no distaste for the popular farce. Rather, we might judge from it that he was well-disposed to the farcical side of Epicharmus and Aristophanes. The Stagirite's own jokes no doubt met the Aristotelian and Ciceronian standard of what befits a gentleman, 3 depart- ing far enough from pointless obscenity and cruel invective — as the wit of Aristophanes was in this respect on a level above that of his predecessor Cratinus, or of the Old Comedy in general ; yet the jokes of Aris- totle are classed by Demetrius with those of Sophron : ' Elegance of expression includes grace and geniality. Some pleasantries — those of poets — are loftier and more dignified, while others [in prose writers] are more 1 Nicomachean Ethics 4. 13; see below, p. 119. 2 See above, pp. 29-38, below, pp. 111-2. For Epicharmus' development of the mime, see Reich, Der Mimus, p. 246 ; for Plato's love of Sophron, ibi'd., pp. 381-3. For Epicharmus and Sophron in relation to the Platonic Dialogues, see Hirzel, Der Dialog 1. 20-26. 3 See above, pp. 26, S8, below, pp. 119-20. ARISTOTLE AND PLATO ON COMEDY 103 commonplace and jocular, resembling banter, as is the case with those of Aristotle 1 and Sophron and Lysias. Such witticisms as "Whose teeth, could sooner be counted than her fingers " (of an old woman) . . . differ in no way from gibes, nor are they far removed from buffoonery [ysXwTorcoiia;] . ' 2 The Platonic Dialogues, then, are for Aristotle ' mimetic ' — or, as we should say, dramatic — and poetical in so far as they are ' mimetic ' ; 3 and from their relation to the mimes, 4 as well as for other reasons, they may be classed with the comic rather than the tragic part of literature. With their swift interchange of question and answer, they resemble both the plays of Epicharmus and the mimes of Sophron. Coming after the tragedies of Aeschylus, Sophocles, and Eurip- ides, and the comedies of Aristophanes, who in his turn had learned both from the tragic poets and from Epi- charmus and the mimes, the Dialogues of Plato, as the next great literary type struck out by the Greek genius, are generically comic. The Symposium obviously may be so classed, and the Ion, if we can surely attribute this to Plato ; the Phaedrus more readily than the Protagoras, and yet the Protagoras, too. Even in the most serious of the Dialogues, as the Apology, there are occasional touches betraying the kinship of Plato with the comic genius. The exceptional tragic quality of the Phaedo 5 by contrast proves the rule. 1 As Rhys Roberts, following Blass, points out, the reading of the text must stand, Maslow's proposed substitution of 'Aristoph- anes' for 'Aristotle' being untenable, since the reference is to prose writers. 2 Demetrius De Elocutione 128, ed. and trans, by W. Rhys Roberts, p. 131 ; I have slightly modified the translation. Com- pare above, p. 26. 3 Compare below, p. 192. 4 Compare below, p. 168. 5 Cf. Hirzel, Der Dialog 1. 225. 104 INTRODUCTION In the Politics 2.x, Aristotle, when referring to state- ments made in the Republic of Plato, cites and quotes, not the author, but the ' Socrates ' of that Dialogue. Observing a like precision, and citing the speaker, we may begin with the less favorable allusions to comedy in the Dialogues, and then pass to these that are more tolerant and less purely utilitarian. In the Apology Plato makes Socrates say of the accusations issuing from an earlier stage in his career : ' I do not know, and can not tell, the names of my accusers — unless in the chance case of a comic poet.' 1 The hero then recounts the present charge against him : ' " Socrates is an evil-doer, and a meddlesome person who searches into things under the earth and in heaven, and makes the worse appear the better reason ; and he teaches the aforesaid things to others." ' And he adds : ' It is just what you [persons in the audience] have yourselves seen in the comedy [the Clouds] of Aristoph- anes — a man named Socrates there borne about [i. e., suspended in a basket], saying that he walks the air, and talking a deal of nonsense concerning matters of which I do not pretend to know either much or little.' 2 However tense the situation, the reminiscence pro- vokes a smile. Moreover, the Socrates of the Apology is here made to employ a rhetorical device familiar to later theorists, and doubtless already familiar to rhet- oricians in the time of Plato. So Aristotle recognizes the legitimate use in an argument of both ' ancient ' 1 Apology 18; Jowett 2. no. In the succeeding quotations from Plato I continue to make use of the translation by Jowett, occasionally revising. 2 Apology 19; Jowett 2. in. ARISTOTLE AND PLATO ON COMEDY 105 and ' contemporary ' (or 'recent ') witnesses, and there- with notes the advantage of quoting from the poets : ' Thus Eubulus [the orator] . . . employed against Chares the saying of Plato [the comic poet] against Archibius that "the avowal of rascality has gained ground at Athens." '* Again, in the Phaedo, when he is about to discuss the immortality of the soul, Socrates is made to declare : ' I reckon that no one who heard me now, not even if he were a comic poet, would say that I talk idly [&00- y.s(r/S>], or discuss matters in which I have no concern.' 2 He had been respresented as ' garrulous ' by both Aristophanes 3 and Eupolis 4 — garrulity [&oo7.sa$«] being comic material in all ages ; but here the reference to comic poets may be thought to include Ameipsias as well as Aristophanes, since the Connus of Ameipsias was exhibited at the same festival as the Clouds, and in it ' Socrates ' appeared as one of the characters, while the title of the play was the name of his music- teacher. 5 The history of ' Socrates ' as a personage in imitative literature begins with these two comedies, twenty-five years before the death of the man himself ; it had been running thirty years, and probably more, when Plato wrote the Apology. 6 In this latter work the line is hard to draw between the admixture of the comic element and that larger part of the Dialogue which stirs our pity, hope, and admiration ; yet we are doubtless justified in connecting the allusions to 1 Aristotle, Rhetoric 1. 15. The 'Plato' of this passage has also been taken to mean the philosopher; see below, p. 158. 2 Phaedo 70 ; Jowett 2. 209-10. 3 Cf. Rogers, Clouds, pp. xxvii-xxx ; and see Clouds 1480. 4 Eupolis, frg. 352, Kock 1. 351. 5 Starkie, Clouds, p. xxix. 6 Croiset 4. 279. 106 INTRODUCTION Aristophanes and Ameipsias in the Apology and the Phaedo with the remarks on comedy in the Republic. In the Republic the discussion of poetry is incidental to the problem of education. And this does not mean the education of all classes in the State, but of one class in particular, namely, the Guardians, the military class. It means the education of these, mainly during childhood and youth. Further, this State is not regarded as actually possible ; it is ideal, imaginary, at times fantastic — a magic mirror, so to speak, by gaz- ing at which we arrive at a new sense of justice. The sections of the Dialogue that treat of poetry (the end of Book 2, beginning of Book 3, and beginning of Book 10) chiefly deal with Homer ; tragedy and comedy are subordinate topics. Only one tragic poet, Aeschylus, is mentioned by name ; no comic poet is so mentioned. The objection brought against poetry is threefold. It misrepresents the divine nature ; for Homer dis- plays the gods as subject to human fear, pain, and even lust, and to excessive laughter. It is imitative: the distinction is made between pure narrative, where the poet tells a straightforward story in his own words ; pure ' imitation,' where a dramatist, saying nothing himself, presents the entire action through the utter- ances of his characters ; and the mixed type, as in Homer, where some part of the story is given by the poet speaking for himself, and the rest by the characters. Finally, it represents emotions, such as fear, of which the warlike Guardians should see and know as little as possible. Poetry is therefore false to the nature of the divine, untrue also in so far as it is imitative and un- real, and dangerous to the safety of the State. The triple distinction of imitative, narrative, and mixed is by some scholars found again in the Poetics of ARISTOTLE AND PLATO ON COMEDY 107 Aristotle j 1 though some such distinction may have been a commonplace in Greek criticism before Plato, who certainly did not invent, any more than did Socrates, the notion that the drama is an ' imitative ' art. 2 One may add that the Republic is itself of the mixed type. It begins with a narrative of the circumstances under which the Dialogue ostensibly took place ; and indeed the entire narrative is related by one person as a story ; yet it is on the whole ' imitative,' since, after a brief preliminary, the remainder is in the form of speeches put into the mouths of various characters by Plato. The Dialogue would therefore, as we have seen, be one of the books that should be denied admittance to the ideal State which it describes ! It also contains a choice collection of the passages from Homer that would not be admitted. The Symposium would be excluded, both because it is imitative, and because of the naughty utterances in it by Aristophanes and Alcibiades. Nor would the other Platonic Dialogues fare better, in so far as the author is an imitative artist. We may now look at the five references to comedy and laughter in the Republic, taken out of their context. The first needs no further preamble : ' Neither ought our guardians to be given to laughter ; for a fit of laughter which has been indulged to excess almost always produces a violent reaction. . . . Then personages of worth, even if only mortal men, must not be represented as overcome by laughter, and still less must such a representation of the gods be allowed.' 3 The second propounds the main question : ' You mean ... to ask whether tragedy and comedy shall be admitted into our State ? '* 1 But see Alfred Gudeman in Philologus 76 (1920). 245. 2 Cf. Poetics 3. 1448*28-9; see below, p. 172. 3 Republic 3. 388; Jowett 3. 71. 4 Republic 3. 394; Jowett 3. 79. 108 INTRODUCTION The final answer is that they are not to be admitted until a better defence is offered for them than is dis- covered by the speakers in the Republic. Such a de- fence was, in effect, undertaken by Aristotle in the Poetics. Some defence may or may not even then have been lying in Plato's mind; the positions reached by the ' Socrates ' of the Republic are modified by ' the Athenian ' of the Laws. The third statement is diametrically opposed to an utterance made by the Socrates of the Symposium. The third is : ' For even when two species of imitation are nearly allied, the same persons can not succeed in both, as, for example, the writers of tragedy and comedy.' 1 At the end of the Symposium, as we shall see, Socrates maintains the opposite opinion. 2 The fourth is : ' Then the man was perceived to be a fool who directs the shafts of his ridicule at any other sight but that of folly and vice.' 3 In the fourth there is a loophole for comedy. The fifth and last is : ' And so the feeling of sorrow which has gathered strength at the sight of the misfortunes of others [in tragedy] is with difficulty repressed in our own. . . . And does not the same hold also of the ridiculous ? There are jests which you would be ashamed to make yourself, and yet when you hear them in comedy, or in prose, 4 you are greatly amused by them, and are not at all disgusted by their unseemliness. The case of 1 Republic 3. 395 ; Jowett 3. 79. 2 See below, p. 114. 3 Republic 5. 452; Jowett 3. 144. " Reich, Der Mimus, p. 383, thinks this a reference to the prose mimes of Sophron. Jowett translates : ' and yet on the comic stage, or indeed in private,' etc. ARISTOTLE AND PLATO ON COMEDY 109 pity is repeated : there is a principle in human nature which is disposed to raise a laugh, and this, which you once restrained by reason, because you were afraid of being thought a buffoon [cpo|3otj[j.evo? Zo£xv pcop^o/ia?], is now let out again ; and, having stimulated the risible faculty at the theatre, you are betrayed unconsciously to yourself into playing the comic poet at home. . . . And the same may be said of lust and anger and all the other affections, of desire and pain and pleasure, which are held to be inseparable from every action. In all of them poetry feeds and waters the passions in- stead of drying them up ; she lets them rule, although they ought to be controlled, if mankind are ever to increase in happiness and virtue.' 1 Most scholars have held that Aristotle took his departure from this argument, to combat it ; that, having justified the emotional relief of pity and fear through tragedy, he went on to deal with the emotional problem of comedy in a similar way ; and that for him comedy would afford the proper catharsis of laughter, so that the audience by giving vent to the risible fac- ulty at the theatre, would be less likely to play the comic poet at home. 2 In the Laws of Plato we have a less imaginative representation of the State, and one that, while suf- ficiently ideal, is yet more nearly adapted than the Republic to men as they are. The Laws being more ' practical,' in various ways ' the Athenian ' of this Dialogue recedes from the conclusions of ' Socrates ' in the Republic. His ideas may come nearer also to the final beliefs of Plato, though they do not wholly accord with the latter's practice. The passages which here concern us are two. 1 Republic 10. 606; Jowett 3. 321-2. 2 See above, pp. 5-7, 60-5. no INTRODUCTION The first : ' It is necessary also to consider and know uncomely persons and thoughts, and those which are intended to produce laughter in comedy, and have a comic character in respect of style, song, and dance, and of the imitations which these afford; for serious things can not be understood without laughable things, nor opposites at all without opposites, if a man is really to have intelligence of either. But he can not carry out both in action, if he is to have any degree of virtue. And for this very reason he should learn them both, in order that he may not in ignorance do or say anything which is ridiculous and out of place. He should com- mand slaves and hired strangers to imitate such things, but he should never take any serious interest in them himself, nor should any freeman or freewoman be dis- covered taking pains to learn them. And there should always be some element of novelty in the imitation. Let these, then, be laid down, both in law and in our discourse, as the regulations of laughable amusements which are generally called comedy.' 1 The second passage is : ' Do we admit into our State the comic writers who are so fond of making mankind ridiculous, if they attempt in a good-natured manner to turn the laugh against our citizens ? or do we . . . allow a man to make use of ridicule in jest and without anger about any thing or person ? ... We forbid earnest. . . . But we have still to say who are to be sanctioned or not to be sanctioned by the law in the employment of innocent humor. A comic poet, or maker of iambic or satirical lyric verse, shall not be permitted to ridicule any of the cit- izens, either by word or likeness, either in anger or without anger. And if any one is disobedient, the judges shall either at once expel him from the country, or he shall pay a fine of three minae, which shall be dedicated to the god who presides over the contests. Those only who have received permission shall be 1 Laws 7. 816-7; Jowett 5. 199. ARISTOTLE AND PLATO ON COMEDY in allowed to write verses at one another, but they shall be without anger and in jest ; in anger and in serious earnest they shall not be allowed. The decision of this matter shall be left to the superintendent of the general education of the young, and whatever he may license the writer shall be allowed to produce, and whatever he rejects let not the poet himself exhibit, or ever teach anybody else, slave or freeman, under the penalty of being dishonored, and held disobedient to the laws.' 1 These more tolerant utterances in the Laws remind one of the rule laid down by Aristotle in the Politics, that a youth shall not attend the contests in comedy before he has reached the proper stage in his education ; 2 _J but neither in the Laws nor in the Republic have we a detached inquiry into the essence of the comic drama. In both Dialogues, as in the Politics, the treatment of comedy is incidental to that of a leading topic ; the function of the drama being judged by the standard of utility in the State, and with special reference to juvenile education. , Let us turn to allusions of another sort. The Sym- posium as a whole is a comedy ; and the comic myth which Plato as an imitative artist puts into the mouth of the Aristophanes of this Dialogue deserves the same measure of attention from us as the reference to Aristoph- anes by Aristotle in the Poetics. But apart from the Aristophanic myth the direct allusions by Plato to comic poets are limited, and his quotations or adapta- tions of their language, so far as these can be iden- tified, are few. Nevertheless they have a value. In the Theaetetus Socrates shows high regard for Epicharmus, ranking him in comedy with Homer in epic poetry, at the summit in their respective provinces 1 Laws II. 935-6; Jowett 5. 325. 2 See below, p. 125. 112 INTRODUCTION of art, and citing both for the idea that ' all things are the offspring of flux and motion.' 1 And in the Gorgias he asks : ' Must I then say with Epicharmus, " Two men spoke before, but now one shall be enough " ? ' 2 Hirzel makes much of the lively style of conversation in the plays of Epicharmus, where one speaker catches up his fellow in the middle of a verse ; the poet has raised the wit of the Sicilian mime to a higher level, introduces speculation, and hence in more than one way has had an influence on the Dialogues of Plato. 3 Epicharmus would also recommend himself to both Plato and Aristotle through the strictly philo- sophical poetry that has been attributed to him. Aris- totle evinces his respect by citing Epicharmus twice in the Poetics, apparently giving him, together with Phormis, the credit for the invention of plots in comedy, and making him the forerunner of the Athenian Crates in that notable matter. 4 A phrase from Epicharmus seems to reappear at intervals in De Generatione Ani- malium and the Metaphysics ; and he is otherwise remembered seven or eight times in the extant works of Aristotle. 5 In the First Alcibiades, if this be genuinely Platonic, Socrates jocularly quotes an unnamed author : ' When you and I were born, Alcibiades, as the comic poet says, " the neighbors hardly knew of the important event."' 6 On the authority of Olympiodorus the proverb has been attributed to the comic poet Plato, 1 Theaetetus 152 ; Jowett 4. 206. 2 Gorgias 505 ; Jowett 2. 397. 3 Hirzel, Der Dialog 1. 22-3. 4 See below, pp. 172, 177-8. 6 See below, pp. 152-5. * First Alcibiades 121 ; Jowett 2. THE SYMPOSIUM OF PLATO 113 in some unidentified drama, 1 a writer who does not otherwise emerge, if here, in the works of the philos- opher, and who is possibly once mentioned by Aristotle. 2 A chance-allusion to the comic poets is likewise to be noted in the Phaedrus, where the youthful orator humorously accuses Socrates of resorting to a familiar expedient of the stage : ' Do not let us exchange " tu quoque as in a farce.' 3 Among the works of Plato the Symposium, the chief topic of which is love, comes nearest to being both a discussion and an illustration of the comic spirit ; but it is not a discussion of comedy in the narrower sense ; and even the discourse of Aristophanes (containing much that the Socrates of the Republic would exclude from his commonwealth as unsuited to the education of the Guardians) is too long to quote. Indeed, it needs only to be mentioned. We can notice two allu- sions to comedy from other parts of the Dialogue. There are those who think that Socrates' references to the Clouds in the Apology and the Phaedo demonstrate the antagonism of Plato to that drama. What, then, shall we say regarding Plato's use of a line from the Clouds (362) in the Symposium ? Here he makes Alcibiades adopt the very words of Aristophanes for a realistic description of Socrates — ' in our streets, stalking and jetting like a brent-goose, and casting his eyes about askance.' 4 And what shall we say of the contradiction between the argument in the Republic, that the same persons can not succeed in writing both 1 Plato, the comic poet, frg. 204, Kock 1. 657-8. 2 See above, p. 105, below, p. 158. 3 Phaedrus 236; Jowett 1. 441. 4 Symposium 221 ; compare Starkie, Clouds, p. 95. h ii4 INTRODUCTION tragedy and comedy, 1 and the opinion noted at the close of the Symposium ? — S ' The chief thing he [Aristodemus] remembered was Socrates compelling the other two to acknowledge that the genius of comedy was the same with that of tragedy, and that the true artist in tragedy was an artist in comedy also.' 2 The truth is that Plato himself was a master in both the serious and the comic vein, and that his characters say what is proper at a given stage in any Dialogue. At length we come to the pregnant remarks on comedy in the Philebus — pregnant, but still subordinate to the topic of the Dialogue, namely, pleasure. Socrates is again the speaker, but here the method is less dramatic, and the usual irony almost wholly dropped. We may omit the brief intercalary answers of Protarchus, since the Socratic questions are virtually progressive enun- ciations of fact : ' And you remember how pleasures mingle with pains in lamentation and bereavement ? . . And you remember also how at the sight of tragedies the spec- tators smile through their tears ? ... And are you aware that even at a comedy J:hj^ojjyL-S£pe r i ences a >■* mixed feeling of pain and pleasure ? . . . ' I have just mentioned envy; would you not call that a pain of the soul ? ... And yet the envious man finds something in the misfortunes of his neighbors at which he is pleased ? ... And ignorance, and what is termed clownishness, are surely an evil ? . . . ' From these considerations learn to know the nature jof the ridiculous. . . . The ridiculous is, in short, the specific name which is used to describe the vicious form I of a certain habit ; and of vice in general it is that kind ■ which is most at variance with the inscription at Del- phi, ..." Know thyself." . . . And the opposite would 1 See above, p. 108. 2 Symposium 223; Jowett 1. 594. THE PHILEBUS OF PLATO 115 be, " Know not thyself." ... Are there not three ways in which ignorance of self may be shown ? ... In the first place, about money; the ignorant may fancy himself richer than he is. ... And still more often he will fancy he is taller or fairer than he is, or that he has some other advantage of person which he really has not. . . . And yet surely by far the greatest number err about the goods of the mind ; they imagine them- selves to be much better men than they are. . . . ' All who are silly enough to entertain this lying conceit of themselves may, of course, be divided, like the rest of mankind, into two classes — one having power and might, and the other the reverse. . . . Those of them who are weak and unable to revenge them- selves, when they are laughed at, may be truly called ridiculous. . . . Ignorance in the powerful is hateful and horrible, because hurtful to others both in reality and in fiction ; but .powerles s ignora nce ma y be reck-,;;:.-. oned, and in truth is ridiculous... ' Eet us examine"~th*e*nature of envy. ... Is not envy an unrighteous pleasure, and also an unrighteous pain ? ... There is nothing envious or wrong in rejoicing at the misfortunes of enemies ? ... But to feel joy instead of sorrow at the sight of our friends' misfortunes — is not that wrong ? . . . ' And the three kinds of vain conceit in our friends, . . . the vain conceit of beauty, of wisdom, and of wealth, are ridiculous if thjy OT ai^weai^-a»d-d«testabl@«wh€n~?' they are powerruLMay we not say as . . . before that our friends" whtriM r in this state of mind, wheu harmless ~-^ to others, are simply ridiculou s ? ... And do we not acknowledge tnis ignorance oftheirs to be a misfortune ? . . . Then the argument shows that when we laugh at the folly of our friends, pleasure, in mingling with envy, mingles with pain ; for envy has been acknowledged by us to be mental pain, and laughter is pleasant ; and so^ we envy and laugh at the same in stant. . . . And the' argument implieSThat there are combinations of plea- sure and pain in lamentations, and in tragedy and com- edy, not only on the stage, but on the greater stage of human life ; and so in endless other cases. . . . hz I 116 INTRODUCTION ' I mentioned anger, desire, sorrow, fear, love, emula- tion, envy, and similar emotions, as examples in which we should find a mixture of the two elements so often named. . . We may observe that our conclusions hitherto have had reference only to sorrow and envy and anger. . . Then many other cases remain ? ... And why do you suppose me to have pointed out to you the admixture which takes place in comedy? Why but to convince you that there was no difficulty in showing the mixed nature of fear and love and similar affections ? ' x These extracts from the Dialogues of his master pro- vide a general background for the entire thought of Aristotle on comedy. But it would be hazardous to attempt the establishment of many relations between the two authors in detail. Having already indicated a few points of similarity and difference between them, I shall confine myself to a few additional remarks. The main similarity between Aristotle and the chief interlocutors in the Platonic Dialogues lies in the field of ethics, political science, and rhetoric. One of the Aristotelian assumptions is that an orator must be a good man, 2 and, as we should say, a gentleman. Aristotle likewise, no doubt, would subscribe to the notion, gener- ally held among the ancients, 3 that in order to be a good poet a man must be good himself ; and this, in spite of what he says regarding the origin of poetry, to the effect that the forerunners of the comic poets were not on the same moral plane as the forerunners of the tragic. 4 But h e doe s not hold that a poem must 1 Philebus 48-50 ; Jowett 4. 621-4. I find no better place than at the end of these extracts from Plato to insert the maxim attrib- uted to Socrates by Stobaeus (Anthologium 3. 34. 18) : 'One should use laughter as one uses salt, sparingly' ; see Stobaeus, ed. by Wachsmuth and Hense, 3. 686. 2 Aristotle, Rhetoric 1. 2. 3 Cf. Aristophanes, Frogs 1008-12, 1482-1502; Strabo 1. 2. 5. 1 See below, pp. 174-5. THE NICOMACHEAN ETHICS 117 sa tisfythe_ standards of Ethics ajnd^I^tics. since, howe^eTennobled the agents in a tragedy may be, the hero jnust^be depicted withja flawlufficient to bring about his downfall, and since* the* "ag ents in comedy ^ ha ve the faults^ cjJJie_ayer a.ge man, or are worse than- * the^ayerage. 1 The comic poet may not, indeed, endow his characters with any and every defect ; he is limit ed to the kinds and degrees of disproportion and ugliness' _ __ thatarejaot^ajrrM^or injurious and corrupting. ' Con- sequently he "~must~be familiar with the variety and extent of human aberrations from normal conduct. Yet it is not of the public stage, but of individual ethics and social life, that Aristotle says : ' In the matter of truth, ... he who observes the mean may be called truthful, and the mean state truth- fulness. Pretence, if it takes the form of exaggeration, is boastfulness [oiXa^ovdoc], and one who is given to it is a boaster [i. e., ' impostor ' (alcx.Z.m)], but if it takes the form of depreciation it is irony [s!po>vsi«], and he who is given to it is ironical [sipwv]. ' As regards pleasantness in amusement, he who yvt&M observes the mean is witt v [eSfparalos], and his dis- ^ \a position wittiness [suTparoWa] ; the e xcess is buffoon - ery [pop^o^'a], and he who is given to it is a buffoon := ' J^S\).ol6ypz], whereas he who is de ficient in wit may be called a boor [aypowto?], and his moral state boorish-;^ ness [dcypotxicc]. ' As to the other kind of pleasantness, namely pleas- antness in life, he who is pleasant in a proper way is friendly [y{lo$], and his mean state is friendliness [ In fact, to feel pleasure™or~painis precisely to function with the sensitive mean, acting upon good or evil as sueh. It is in this that actual avoidance and actual appetition consist. Nor is the appetitive faculty distinct from the faculty of avoidance, nor either from the sensitive faculty ; though logically they are different. But to the thinking soul images serve as present sen- sations ; and when it affirms or denies good or evil, 1 Cf. below, p. 175. 2 Cf. below, p. 223. 3 Bywater, pp. 18, 19. 4 See below, p. 184. i 3 4 INTRODUCTION it avoids or pursues ; this is why the soul never thinks without an image.' 1 But with respect to life as a whole we learn in the Nicomachean Ethics : ' Happiness [s5B«i[j.ov£a] . . . does not consist in amusement [sv raciBia]. It would be paradoxical to hold that the end of human life is amusement, and that we should toil and suffer all our life for the sake of amusing ourselves ; for we may be said to desire all things as means to something else, except indeed hap- piness, as happiness is the end or perfect state. ' It appears to be foolish and utterly childish to take serious trouble and pains for the sake of amusement. ,- But to amuse_oneseIf with a view to being serious seems >L articularly when the t hings dune acc ordntg-tp "the* general law have their special natures satisfied. Habits, too, must be pleas- antj_Jor an acquired habit comes to be as a natural instinct — habit having a certain likeness to nature ; for " often " and " always " are neighbors, and nature is concerned with the invariable, as habit with the fre- quent. That is pleasant, too, which is not done per- force ; for force is against nature ; wherefore the com- pulsory is painful, and it has rightly been said : Every compulsory thing is grievous. 3 1 Rhetoric 2. 1, trans, by Jebb, p. 69, revised. 2 Ibid. 1. 10, pp. 44-6. 3 A saying attributed to Evenus of Paros. 136 INTRODUCTION Acts of attention, earnest or intense efforts, must be painful, for they involve compulsion and force, unless one is accustomed to them ; and then the habit becomes a sort of pleasure. Again, the opposites of these are pleasant ; so opportunities of ease ; moments of respite from toil or attention, sports, seasons of repose and sleep, are among pleasant things ; for none of these is (compulsory. Everything, too, is pleasant of which I the desire exists in one ; for desire is appetite of the j pleasant. . . . All pleasures consist either in perceiv- : ing things present, or in remembering things past, or in hoping things future. . . . • Generally, all things which, when present, give joy, also supply, as a rule, pleasures of memory or hope. Hence it is pleasani- Jta-be-aagrv — as Homer said of passion that it is Sweeter far than dripping honey ; x for no one is angry with a person who seems beyond the reach of vengeance, or who is greatly above himself in power ; or, if angry at all, he is less angry. And so most of the desires are attended by a certain pleasure. . . . ' A certain pleasure follows on mourning and lamen- tation ;~ for, as the parrrTonsists in -t he - fe s a, so there is a pleasure in remembering the lost, and, in a manner, seeing him as he lived and moved. . . . Also revenge is pleasant, since what is painful to miss is pleasant to get ; and angry men are pained above measure by the loss, as they are rejoiced by the hope, of revenge. To conquer is pleasant, not only to lovers of victory ; ... for it gives rise to an impression of superiority. . . . And since to conquer is pleasant, it follows that sportive fights and contests are so, as offering many opportuni- ties of victory. . . . ' To learn and to admire [wonder] are pleasant, as a rule ; for admiring [wonder] implies desiring to learn, . . . and learning involves a settling into one's proper natural condition. . . . 1 Iliad 18. 109. THE RHETORIC ON PLEASURE 137 ' And since the pleasant is that which benefits, it is pleasant to men to set their neighbors right, and to complete imperfect things. Aga in, sin ce learning and adinh-mgare pleasant, it follows that "pleasure is given by^E£S[Su&Jtion^such as painting, sculpture, poetry, and by every skilful copy, even though the original be unpleasant ; for o ne's joy is not in lhe„lhing-itself — . yg rather, there is ajtyllogjsjnjJ^JJds L is Jike. that." And --"**%? so it comes~thafbneTearns something. Sudden rever- sals and narrow escapes are pleasant, being all in the nature of marvels. ' Then, since that which is according to nature is pleasant, and kindred things are natural to each other, all things akin to one and like one are pleasant to one, as a rule — as man to man, horse to horse, youth to youth ; whence the proverbs ; "Mate delights mate " ; " Like to like " ; "A beast knows his fellow " ; " Jack- daw to jackdaw " ; and so forth. And since everything like and kindred to oneself is pleasant, and a man is like nothing so much as himself, it follows that every- body is more or less selfish, self being the very standard of all such resemblances. And, since every one is selfish, it follows that all find pleasure in their own things — for instance, in their deeds and words ; whence people are fond, as a rule, of their flatterers, of their lovers, of honor, of their children (for their children are their own work). 'So, to complete imperfect things is pleasant ; for at this point the work becomes one's own. And since to rule is most pleasant, to seem wise is also pleasant ; for intelligence befits a ruler ; and wisdom is the knowl- edge of many admirable things. Further, since people are, for the most part, ambitious, it follows that it is pleasant to censure one's neighbors, as well as to rule. It is pleasant also to spend one's time in the occupation in which one seems to be at one's best; as the poet says : Toward this he spurs, to it giving most of each day — To the work that shows him at his best. 1 1 Euripides, frg. 183, Nauck, second, ed. 138 INTRODUCTION ' In like manner, since amusement and relaxation of every kind are among pleasant things, and laughter, too, it follows that the causes of laughter must be pleasant — namely, persons, utterances, and deeds. But the forms of the ludicrous have had separate treat- ment in the Poetics.'^ A commentary might be written on the bearing of this extract upon the Poetics ; but various relations are easily found. On the surface lies the notion that our pleasure in literary and all other art is the activity of discovering*resemBlances, with the human nature of the observing individual as the standard of comparison. Even if the poet — a comic poet, let us say — chose for his object of imitation one that was not only ugly, but painful, still the observer could delight in the successful representation; he would 'learn something.' The reversals and escapes alluded to seem to be on the order of those in comedy rather than tragedy. And the proverbs quoted are such as we might find in a mime ; Demetrius says that ' almost all the proverbs in exis- tence ' might be collected out of Sophron. 2 But the close of the chapter is of even greater interest. ' Per- sons ' (av9p6OTOi), ' utterances ' (loyoi), and ' deeds ' fiev atffiazi. 3 Rhetoric 2. 24, trans, by Jebb, pp. 132-3, revised. k 146 INTRODUCTION Possibly we ought to consider a great many other passages on fallacious reasoning; but we must not quote too much of the Rhetoric, nor all of De So-phisticis Elenchis ! For an examination of fallacies Aristotle, in a discussion of comedy, would doubtless refer us to the appropriate special treatises. (14) ' Clever turns for the most part depend upon metaphor with the addition of a deceptive element. That the hearer has learned something is more obvious from its contrast with what he expected ; the mind seems to say, " How true ! And I did not see it." . . . Good riddles are enjoyed for the same reason, for there is an act of learning, and a metaphor is uttered. Similarly in the case of what Theodorus [the rhetorician] terms " novelties of expression," since these arise when there is an element of surprise, and, as he says, the thing turns out contrary to what we were expecting, like the jokes found in comic writers, produced by deceptive alterations in words, and by unexpected words in verse, where the listener anticipates one thing, and hears another. Thus : Statelily stept he along, and under his feet were his — chilblains. 1 The anticipated word was " sandals." In this kind of joke, however, the point must be caught instantly. Jokes arising from changes within the word depend upon a twist of pronunciation which gives us something different from the meaning we should naturally attach. An example given by Theodorus is the joke on Nicon the harper : OpaxTst as ; for the speaker makes as if he would, say 8painrsi * also ; foFlragedy'took its beginning ironTflre inrpr o^^Sre vising poet-leaders in the dithyrambic chorus ofsatyTs ;^^on m 176 THE POETICS APPLIED TO COMEDY / and comedy from the leaders of the~phame~processional J song and dance, the performance of which continues as an institution in many of the Greek cities. [In addition to other gradual changes in tragedy,] there was a change in the magnitude of the action represented, from the little plots of the primitive form ; and, with its development out of the satyr-play, tragedy also grew away from a ludicrous diction. Thus, at a late period, however, it assumed its characteristic elevation of tone, and the iambic metre replaced the trochaic tetrameter. Indeed, the reason for the early use of the tetrameter was that tragedy had the quality of the satyr-play, and was more on the order of dancing. But as soon as the element of spoken discourse entered in, nature itself found the appropriate metre — the iambic ; for this is the readiest metre in speaking. Chapter 5 "'Comedy, as has been said, is an artistic imitation Tha aoentsjn f persons of an inferior moral bent ; faulty, however, the nature of no t in any and every way, but only in so far as their the ludidrous J ' " J \^ shortcomings are ludicrous ; for the ludicrous is a part r 'species, not all, of the genus ugly; Itlrnay^bTlie- fined as that ToniToF shortcoming ''"and deformity [or disproportion] which does not strike us as painful, and is not harmful [or ' corrupting '] ; a ready example The comic i s afforded by the comic mask, which is ludicrous, being mask is an J ' . example ^ ugly and distorted, without any suggestion of pain. [The faults whlcITit would appear were "suitable for" comic characters might therefore be almost, if not quite, all the vices listed in Nicomachean Ethics 2. 7, y so long as these vices produced neit her pain nor h arm ; '""but, particularly, certain of the vices that were nearer to the mean state, or state of virtue (rather than those less resembling this), such as foolhardiness, prodigality, vul- V garity, vanity, impassivity, self-depreciation ( = ' irony ') , \ buffoonery, obsequiousness or flattery, and bash- POETICS 5 177 fulness. Yet the oppo site and more extrem e vices, might be so represented as not to be painful or injurious — as cowaxdke,_jlliberality or avarice, boastfulness, boorishness; perhaps also quarrelsomeness, licentious- ness, and envy; possibly shamelessness and malice. It has been thought by some that Aristotle deemed the buff oon or lo w, je sting pa rasite, the ironical man or type~^'dissembledTgnOTliric*e7and the boastful man or type of impostors and braggarts, as par excellence the characters (or ethe) of comedy ; see above, pp.118— 9, and the Tractatus Coislinianus, below, pp. 226, 262—5. It is often possible to reduce to one of these last three types a character whose comic flaw at first might seem to be one of the other vices ; so the incontinent Tartuffe of Moliere — as indeed the poet suggests by appending the name, ' The Impostor.' In other cases, as Har- pagon in Moliere's L'Avare, the flaw in character which gives rise to the comic effect is clearly not one of these three, but, as in L'Avare, avarice, or, as in Le Malade Imaginaire, cowardice or some other vice.] While the successive changes which tragedy under- went, and the authors of those changes, have not escaped notice, there is no record, says Aristotle, of the early development of comedy, for the reason that at first this form of drama was not treated as a matter of much concern. Not until late in the progress of comedy was the comic poet provided by the magistrate with a chorus; until then the performers were simply unpaid volunteers. And comedy had already taken definite shape by the time we begin to have a record of those who are termed poets in this kind. Who was responsible for introducing personages, or prologues, or additional actors — concerning these and like details we are in ignorance. But the construction of plots came from Sicily, for Epicharmus and Phormis came from there ; and, of Athenian comic poets, Crates was the first to discard personal invective and to construct generalized Little is known about the earlier stages of comedy Sicilian origin of comic plots: Epicharmus and Phormis The Athenian Crates, and the general- ized plot or fable 178 THE POETICS APPLIED TO COMEDY plots and fables. [The active career of Crates just preceded that of Aristophanes, the second of whose extant comedies, the Knights, contains a reference to the elder poet, who probably was then dead.] As may be seen [compare above, p. 172], mock-heroic ic] r poetry coT" poetry has thus much in common with comedy : it is [MmlcfiiFama an imitation, in verse, of ludicrous events. Still there is a difference (on the metrical side) in the medium of fnA"!S r '.h. imitation, as well as a difference in the manner ; for the' cficc in ins / medium mock-epic employs one and the same metre throughout, ^---—whereas comedy employs mor e than one metr e.: and. t ?i, f ! e ™*L> the mock-epic~Is InThlTfonn of a tale that is told, and in tne manner a ' not, like comedy, of an action directly presented. And .* ^ f n 'g t ™ nce there is further- a difference in length, since the narrative t r poem is not restricted to a ny fixed limi jtflfJime, whereas ' ''•"'; a comedy is restricted by the conventions of the stage. *•' i [In Aristotle's view, the number of lines is related to the length of time represented by the action. The narrative poem may represent a long time, and hence may itself be long ; whereas the drama commonly rep- resents a briefer time, and hence will be shorter. In speaking of the epic poem and tragedy, he says that at first this difference did not exist, neither being limited in point of time, but that later, in his own day, writers of tragedy aimed to confine the action within the limits of one revolution of the sun, or at all events not to exceed this interval by very much. This is the only reference to what long afterwards (never by him) was called the ' unity of time ' ; it is not an injunction, but an obser- vation subordinate to his discussion of the length of a poem. He nowhere refers to anything like a ' unity of place.' In fact, he mentions but two 'unities ' — unity of action, and ' oneness ' of hero, which latter, he says, does not constitute oneness of plot. It may be v rioted, however, that the comedies of Aristophanes in Formativo^eii & eneral . mav be regarded as severally occurring within emente'comA the limits of one revolution of the sun.] Finally, the swedes oi1 comic narrative and comedy differ in respect to their- POETICS 5, 6 179 formative elements ; for four of these elements [plot, et ^ 0S> ^J5B2i&^&]A^^S^I^M^common to both' kinds of poetry„_and two- {music and spectacle] are peculiar t0 cor P-^ d y- [ See below, pp. 215-6.] All the formative elements of a comic narrative poem are to be found in comedy ; but not all the formative elements of comedy are included in a comic narrative poem. It follows a booh judge ,, . , ,, , of ["""Hi"] that a person who can tell what is good or bad in the drai ? a ■« a . . ° Dood Judge composition of a comedy can do the same for a comic °y r c a ° t ™ e c] narrative, too. ^ ... To define : a comedy is the artistic imitation ofl CHAPTER 6 an action which is lu dicrous (or m irthful), organically d A f r init ion S of complete, and_of a proper length fTolnuch for the ob-J , e r d afl t *' l » a n d a d p y , j ject iniilatfi-cl. As for the medium, the imitation is produced in language with accessories that give pleasure, one kind of accessory being introduced in one part, and another in another part, of the whole. As for the manner, the imitation is itself in the form of an action carried on by persons — it is not narrated. [( ? ) And as for the end or function resulting from the imitation of such an object in such a medium and in such a manner, it is to arouse, and by a rousing to relieve, the emotions^ I> proper t o nomechz— — ZSee above, pp. 60—98, below,' ppTZ23T228.) At all events, the end of comedy is to arouse laughterby the right means, and to give pleasu re to -*> N^ > thf^iidiciousTK By language with accessories that give \ ^A" {j - aX pleaTJSe^s-irreant language which is simply rhythmical 0^ u or metrical, language which is delivered in recitative, and language which is uttered in song (with music). And by the separate introduction of one kind of acces- sory in one part, and of another in another part, is meant that some parts of the comedy are worked out in verse alone, without being sung or chanted, and others again in the form of singing or chanting. [Gudeman, p. 11, f.n., thinks that the more exact 4i A* 180 THE POETICS APPLIED TO COMEDY explanation of catharsis referred to in Politics 8. 7 has been lost from the Poetics at this point, immedi- ately following the definition of tragedy. The appli- cation to comedy might be expected at a later point in the work. As we have noted in the Introduction, it has been generally assumed that, as Aristotle thought the arousal and relief, or ' catharsis,' of pity and fear, and the resultant pleasure, to be the proper effect of tragedy, so he would recognize some sort of catharsis, and the resultant pleasure, to be the proper end of comedy, basing his opinion upon the observable effect of the best comedies on the spectator or reader. And this effect would be, so to speak, both psychological s^ that is his °'o!efmition of pleasure. We must again note the re lation of suspense to ^ catharsis . The use of suspense Is common to tragedy and comedy. The tragic poet keys his audience up to a high state of tension by half-revealing, half-con- cealing, the final discovery and outcome of the story ; when we are duly prepared, and yet not quite expect- ing the piteous revelation, all is suddenly made manifest, and we dissolve in tears. Such is the catharsis that takes place in the theatre — an effect that probably must be differentiated from the emotional state of the audience when it has left the theatre and is dispersed. So also in comedy there may be a critical point toward which the poet conducts his audience by artistic steps ; there will be a main disclosure that is most directly concerned with the r elief of comic suspe nse — -with^^ the comic catharsis. "But whereas in pureTTSfedy*' the spectator" (who~mdeed fears from the beginning) ■ j does not weep throughout the play, but only after the ; revelation, in pure comedy he laughs from the outset. ^ ,-V 182 THE POETICS APPLIED TO COMEDY \\ ^ The catharsis is effected by a series of explosions, doubtless culminating in one final laugh when the situ- ation is cleared ; that is, if the plot is ' involved.' As for the after-effect of comedy, it may not be wholly / different from that of tragedy : an elevated calm, or ' tranquillity of soul, with clear mental perspective arid freedom from disturbing emotion. Probably the arousal 1 and relief of emotion of any one sort would tend to V__ free the soul from harmful emotion in general. If Aristotle regarded the latent tendency in man either to dangerous inhibitions and repressions, or to an undue laxity of expression, as harmful, certain licenses of comedy — for example, in Aristophanes — might read- ily accord with his homeopathic view as to the curative value of artistic representation or externalization. Thus the elements in comedy that derive from the ph^h^prqcession might be defended' upon "the ground tEaTTKey furnished a catharjis_j)f_the_m£rrial_distur- bances associated with such stimuli in life.] From the definition of comedy we"proceed to analyze the elements in a comedy that demand the attention of the poet. Since there are dramatis personae who The six'con- stituent ele- ments [of comedy] w hlch , demand produce the author's imitation of an action, it necessarilv attention from * the poet I. Spectacle 2. Music 3. Diction: composition In metre follows that (i) everything pertaining to the appearance of actors on the stage — including costume, scenery, and the like — will constitute an element in the tech- nique of comedy ; and that (2) the composition of the music, and (3) the composition in words, will constitute two further elements, since the music and diction com- prise the medium in which the action is imitated. By diction is meant the fitting together of the words in metre ; as for the musical element, the meaning is too obvious to call for explanation. But, furthermore, the original object of the imita- tion is an action of men. In the comedy, then, the imitation, which is also an action, must be carried on by agents, the dramdtis personae. And these agents 4. Elhos POETICS 6 183 must necessarily be endowed by the poet with certain distinctive characteristics both of (4) moral bent {ethos) an< i (5) intellect (dianoia) ; since it is from a man's 5. Dianoia moral bent, and from the way in which he reasons, that we are led to ascribe goodness or badness, success or failure, to his acts. Thus, as there are two natural causes, moral bent and thought, of the particular deeds of men, so there are the same two natural causes of their success or failure in life. And the comic poet must take cognizance of this. Finally, the action which the poet imitates is repre- sented in the comedy by (6) the plot or fable. And, b. Plot according to our present distinction, plot means that synthesis of the particular incidents which gives form or being to the comedy as a whole ; whereas moral bent (ethos) is that which leads us to characterize the agents as worse or better ; and intellect (thought, or dianoia) is that which is shown in all their utterances — in arguing special points, or in avouching some general truth. In everv comedv, therefore, there are six consti- summary of J J ' ' the six ele- tutive (or formative) elements, according to the quality merits of which we judge the excellence of the work as a whole : plot, moral bent, intellect, diction, the musical element, and spectacle. Two of them, the musical element and diction, concern the medium of imitation ; one, spec- tacle, the manner; and three, plot, moral bent, and intellect, the objects. There can be no other elements. Of these constitutive elements, accordingly, the judi- cious comic poet will make due use ; for every drama must contain certain things that are meant for the eye, as well as the elements of plot, moral bent, intellect, diction, and music. 184 THE POETICS APPLIED TO COMEDY The most im- portant ele- ment [in com- edy] is the structure of the whole The moral bent of the agents Is subsidiary to what Is done The most important of the constitutive el ements is the pjpt, that is7"the organization of the incidents "t>F the story ; for comedy in its essence is an imitation, not of men as such, but of action and of life. Conse- quently in a play the agents do not do thus and so for the sake of revealing their moral dispositions ; rather, the display of character is included as subsidiary to the things that are done. So that the incidents of the action, and the structural ordering of these incidents, constitute the end and aim of the comedy. [That is, the structure of the comedy as a whole, the ' form ' of it, is equivalent to the main effect upon the audience.] Here, as in everything else that we know of, the final purpose is the main thing. We may see the importance of this element from the fact that, whereas without action a comedy could not exist, it is possible to con- struct a comedy in which the agents have no distinctive moral bent. Again, one may string together a series of speeches in which the moral bent of the agents is delineated in excellent verse and diction, and yet fail to produce the effect of comedy. One is more likely to produce the effect with a comedy, however deficient in these re- spects, if it has a plot — that is, an artistic ordering of the incidents. In addition to all this, the most vital features of comedy, by which the interest and emotions of the audience are most effectively stirred — that is, discoveries, and reversals of fortune — are parts of the plot or action. It is significant, too, that beginners in the art become proficient in versification, and in the delineation of personal traits, before they are able to com- bine the incidents of the action into an effective whole. (i) Tjie_plot 1 _tlien, is the first principle, and as it were the very soul i _oJLc£rjaed.y-, 3. Dianoia Ethos and POETICS 6 185 (2) And the charact ers, of the agents come next in Elements in order of importance. — There is a parallel in the art of importance ' painting : the most striking colors laid on with no order will not be so effective as the simplest caricature done in outline. — Comedy is the imitation of an action: , p|ot mainly on this account does it become, in the second 2 - Ethos place, an imitation of personal agents. (3) Third in importance comes thejjlement of intel- leGt_Jhe~faculty in the agent of saying what~can be said, or what is fitting to be said, for the ends of comedy, in a given situation. It is that element in a comedy which is supplied by the study of politics, rhetoric, [and sophistical arguments]. This intellectual element must be clearly distinguished from the ethical element Siated'hy (moral bent) in the drama, for the latter includes only m^Cfis such things as reveal the moral bias of the agents — their tendency to choose or to avoid a certain line of action, in cases where the motive is not obvious. The intellectual element, on the other hand, is manifest in everything the poet makes the agents, say to prove or disprove a special point, and in every utterance by way of generalization. [The way in which the moral and intellectual elements unite in the speech and action of the agent is often imperfectly grasped by readers of Aristotle. Together, the two elements form the personality of the agent. In a sense, every utterance of a speaker in a comedy illustrates his moral bent, and likewise shows the workings of his intellect ; so that, like the other consti- tutive elements (save that music is intermittent), these two enter into every part of a play. The consti- tutive elements might, in fact, be compared to the various kinds of tissue in a living organism, all being found in any part. Thus in the Frogs of Aristophanes the decision of Dionysus to visit the underworld in search of Euripides is shown in a succession of speeches 1 86 THE POETICS APPLIED TO COMEDY in which he argues the necessity of his quest, uttering a mixture of general statements and particular infer- ences ; his bent and his thinking are displayed together ; and the plot begins with his decision. Commonly, of course, the decision to choose or avoid a line of action is first emphasized, and then the arguing proceeds; but, as in life, both elements run continuously through- out the play — just as the plot runs through the play, being in the narrower sense like the bony framework of a living animal, but in a more inclusive sense the governing idea of the whole, which comprehends every detail. So, obviously, the element of diction runs throughout the play; plot, moral bent, and intellect being imitated in this medium.] 4. Diction (4) Next in importance among the constituents comes the diction. This, as has been explained, means the interpretation of the sentiments of the agents in the form of language; it is essentially the same whether the language is metrical or not. com" os'tion f ^ ^ ^ e two elements remaining, the musical is J the more important, since it furnishes the chief of the <3> V_ accessory pleasures in comedy. c. spectacle (6) The element of spectacle, though stimulating, is last in importance, since it demands the lowest order of skill, and has least connection with the art of poetry as such. A comedy can produce its effect indepen- dently of a stage-performance and actors — that is, when it is read ; and besides, the preparation of the stage and the actors is the affair of the stage-manager rather than the poet. Chapter 7 Having thus distinguished the six constitutive ele- ments, we are now to discuss, as the first and most important consideration in the art of comedy, the proper organization of the incidents into a plot that shall have the ideal comic effect. According to the POETICS 187 extent definition (p. 179), a comedy is an imitation of an action loomed?" l ° f that is complete in itself, forming a whole of a sufficient ™ m s J; le b t B e a magnitude or extent ; for a thing may be a whole, and ™ d h e °^' at e f yet wanting in magnitude. [By magnitude Aristotle primarily means extent, which for a comedy could be measured by the number of lines in it ; thus the Birds of Aristophanes, consisting of 1765 lines, is of some- what greater extent than Oedipus the King of Sophocles, which contains 1530 lines. But if there is also involved in ' magnitude ' the idea of the seriousness and im- portance of the action, of the greatness and signifi- cance of a heroic tale, then in this sense the conception needs to be specially interpreted for comedy. The plot of the Birds, being ludicrous, can not precisely be great in itself, but is a travesty of a great theme, namely, the founding of a State. Such a theme when more seriously treated has greatness, as in the Republic of Plato or the Aeneid of Virgil. Thus considered, the, pl ot in each of the comedies nf Arist n pba.ri£S-ia-a -r.nnnir imitation ol a grej ly, whatcomes next in Aristotle, on the law of necessary or probable sequence in the incidents of the drama, may need special interpretation when we shift from tragedy to comedy. It holds for the New Greek Comedy, as we see in the Latin adaptations by Plautus and Terence. And there is an underlying rationality of procedure in Aristophanes; but it is clear that the "'f""''' of irir^ < ^ tc - ijJ -- oamad y- ,ja *" st ---- / of ten run counter -to! the. Jaw of nqqejsjty^and proba- j bihty. Y et it is equally clear that the comic" poet must keep in mind the law of a necessary or probable sequence, J «A- and IHTISt^SttgpfrTt,"' in order to depart from" it in the" right way for the ends of comedy, showing that he observes the law by his method of violating it.] A whole is that which has (1) a beginning, (2) a middle, °^, n D itions: a and (3) an end. (1) A beginning (= x) is that which does not itself * beginning come after anything else in a necessary sequence, but i88 THE POETICS APPLIED TO COMEDY after which some other thing (= y) does naturally exist or come to pass. An end (3) An end (= z), on the contrary, is that which nat- urally comes after something else (= y) in either a necessary or a usual sequence, but has nothing else following it. a middle (2) A middle (= y) is that which naturally comes after something else (= x), and is followed by a third thing (=z). A well-constructed comic plot, therefore, can neither begin nor end where and when the poet happens to like. It must conform to the principles just enunciated. Plot [in com- And, further, as to magnitude : in order to be beauti- edy] is like . . ° .,..,,,. the structure ful, a living organism, or any other individual thing organism made up of parts, must possess not only an orderly arrangement of those parts, but also a proper magni- tude ; for beauty depends upon size and order. Beauty is impossible in an extremely minute creature, since we see the whole in an almost infinitesimal moment of time, and lose the pleasure arising. from a distinct per- muMt b must ception of order in the parts. Nor could a creature anTo'rde "'yet" °^ vast dimensions be beautiful to us — an animal, urge * ' ° sa y» *>ooo miles in length ; for in that case the eye could not take in the entire object at once — we should see the parts, but not the unity of the whole. In the same way, then, as an inanimate object made up of parts, or a living creature, must be of such a size that the The natural parts and the whole may be easily taken in by the eye, just so must the plot of a comedy have a proper length, so that the parts and the whole may be easily embraced Artificial by the memory. The artificial limits, of course, as limits , ' ' these are determined by the conditions of presentation on the stage, and by the power of attention in an audi- ence, do not concern the art of poetry as such. The POETICS 7, 8 189 artistic limit, set by the nature of the thing itself, is The artistic j.1-- c- 1 .1 , . . limit this : bo long as the plot is perspicuous throughout, the greater the length of the story, the more beautiful will it be on account of its magnitude. But to define the matter in a general way, an adequate limit for the * mit adequale magnitude of the plot is this : Let the length be such as to allow a transition from better to worse fortune, or from worse to better, through a series of incidents linked together in a sequence based upon the law of probability or necessity. The unity of a plot does not consist, as some suppose, Chapter s in having one person as subject ; for the number of things that befall the individual is endless, and some of them can not be reduced to unity. So, too, any one man performs many acts from which it is quite im- possible to construct one unified action. [Aristotle goes on to speak of the faulty choice of subject made by poets who have written a Heracleid, a Theseid, and the like, and who suppose that, since Heracles or Theseus was a single person, the story of Heracles or Theseus must have unity. But here again we may say that while a comedy should be an organic whole, and while the comic poet must work with the law of unity of action before him, his special purpose might justify a mere pretence that the things his hero does or undergoes are strictly unified. That it is possible for the comic poet intentionally to violate the law may be seen in Byron's Don Juan, where, however, there is also much careless neglect of it. What Diony- sus, masquerading as Heracles, suffers and does in the Frogs of Aristophanes constitutes a fairly unified action — a single descent of the hero into Hades for a definite purpose, with incidents thereto appertaining. That the law may hold as strictly in comedy as in tragedy may be seen in the Plutus of Aristophanes, and in Plautus, Terence, and Moliere generally. Aristotle, indeed, illustrates the law by the Odyssey, which in his Unity of hero is not unity of plot Examples of the mistake i go THE POETICS APPLIED TO COMEDY opinion (see below, p. 201, and compare above, p. 175) has to some extent the nature of comedy. That oneness of hero is not the same thing as unity of plot, either in comedy or tragedy, needs perhaps still further comment. The plot may be unified when there is no central figure in the play ; see, for example, the Trinummus and the Menaechmi of Plautus. the Com - C'edy of Errors of Shakespeare, and plays in which ~The choiu£"has Ja leading ~pafTH TtTias already been noted that the two ' unities ' mentioned in the Poetics are the unity of action, upon which. Aristotle insists, and the unity of hero, to which he attaches at most but a sec- ondary importance. As we have seen, there is no allusion to any ' unity of place.' This, and the so- called ' unity of time,' are not Aristotelian. The dis- cussion of them first appears in Italy during the Re- naissance ; and it was from Italian commentators on the Poetics, not from Aristotle, that French theorists and playwrights derived them.] Homer dm Homer, whether through conscious art or native in- not make It sight, evidently understood the correct method. Thus in composing a story of Odysseus, he did not make his plot include all that ever happened to Odysseus. For example, it befell this hero to receive a gash from a boar on Mount Parnassus ; and it befell him also to feign madness at the time of the mustering against Ilium. But what he suffered in the former case, and what he did in the latter, are incidents between which there was no necessary or probable sequence. Instead of joining disconnected incidents like these, Homer took for the subject of the Odyssey an action with the kind of unity here described. Accordingly, as in the other imitative arts, so in poetry, the object of the imitation in each case is a unit ; therefore in a comedy the plot, which is an imitation of an action, must rep- t U hat ty of"a e resent an action which is organically unified, the order living body of the mc idents being such that transposing or removing POETICS 8, 9 191 any one of them will dislocate and disorganize the whole. Every part must be necessary and in its place, for a thing whose presence or absence makes no perceptible difference is not an organic part of the whole. [The counsel of perfection just enunciated is warrant- ed by the success of Sophocles in Oedipus the King, by that of Moliere in Tartuffe, and, in the main, by that of Homer and Aristophanes. Yet almost any one of the minor contests between a Greek and a Trojan in the Iliad might be removed without disorganizing the whole story ; and the same is true of minor incidents in the wanderings of Odysseus. So also in the Birds of Aristophanes, the best that may be said regarding the sequence of one or another incident of a minor sort, after the founding of the aerial city, is that the incident naturally arises from the general situation, and does not conflict with those that are in juxta- position with it. See what is said of the episodic plot, below, p. 194.] From what has been said, it is clear that the office Chapter 9 of the poet consists in displaying, not what actually has happened, but what in a given situation might The [comic] happen — a sequence of events that is possible in the sents ideal sense of being either credible or inevitable. [For Aristophanic comedy, the stress clearly must be, not ^ upo n the probability of the..story as a whole, but upon * -:>£ the " r proBabiMy > ^is^d j^thT^latipn of one incident ,.,- to anoTEBr^. Giventhe initial assumption in the Birds, the sequence of events becomes ' probable ' in the sense Aristotle chiefly has in mind ; for he thinks of ' prob- ability ' less (as we commonly and vaguely do) with ref- erence to things in general, and more with reference to specific antecedent and consequent within the limits of a particular play or tale.] In other words, the poet He l8 not is not a historian ; for the two differ, not in that one ■ historian writes in metrical, and the other in non-metrical, lan- guage. For example, you might turn the amusing parts of Herodotus into verse, and you would still have a 192 THE POETICS APPLIED TO COMEDY Metre not the essential distinction Poetry [In- cluding com- edy] more philosophic than history: it is univer- sal. History deals with the particular Comedy has become uni- versal, rep- resenting the general rather than the particular species of history, with metre no less than without it. The essential distinction lies in this, that the historian relates what has happened, and the poet what might happen — what is typical. Poetry is therefore some- thing more philosophic and of greater significance than history; for poetry tends rather to express what is universal, whereas history relates particular events as such. By an exhibition of what is universal is meant the representation of what a certain type of person is likely or is bound to say or do in a given situation. This is the aim of the poet, who nevertheless attaches the names of specific persons to the types. As dis- tinguished from the universal, the particular, which is the subject-matter of history, consists of what an actual person, Alcibiades or the like, actually did or under- went. This [that poetry represents general truth rather than particular fact] has already become manifest in comedy; for the comic poets, having first combined the plot out of probable incidents [incidents in a natural sequence], supply the names that chance to fit the case, and do not, like the iambic [lampooning] poets, take as their subject the [actual deeds and experiences of the] individual person. [It is assumed by certain scholars, among them . Bywater, that Aristotle here draws a distinction between, the Old Comedy, as represented by Aristophanes, and the New^jas_represented by Menander. But the assumption needs to be tested. Aristophanes was but recently dead when Aristotle was in the earlier stages of his education, and Menander was but twenty years old when Aristotle died — possibly ten years old when the Poetics took shape. If there be a sole direct reference in the work to any comedy of this time, it is ' probably to the Orestes of Alexis or some other comedy on the same subject ' (Bywater, note on I453 a 36 ; cf . below, p. 201) . It would seem, then, that the present reference might be to an inter- POETICS 9 193 mediate stage of comedy preceding Menander ; it would seem also that the allusion to the 'iambic poets' might take us to a stage earlier than that of Aris- tophanes — certainly earlier than that of his Plutus. It is true that Aristophanes does make use of the names of Socrates, Euripides, Aeschylus, and other historical personages, though often, as in the case of Socrates, as representatives of a class. At all events he does not subject them to harsh invective, nor deal largely with the actual events of their lives, after the fashion of Archilochus ( ? for Aristotle the old ' iambic poet ') ; and he does not begin with them, and then form a plot. He begins with a plot of a general nature ; nor is it easy to see how, as the master of varied metrical and other effects in comedy, he could be labeled an ' iambic poet,' and included among primitives. The employ- ment of agents bearing historical names as the chief ' personages in comedy is rare with Aristophanes, his reference to actual persons, frequent as it is in some of his plays, being mainly incidental to momentary comic purposes. Forthe_ most., jgart , Jhys _ chief agents ^ are fictitiou s personages.. ..whose names — as Peisthe- taerus7 HUelpides'TJicaeopolis (' Talkover,' ' Hopeful,' ' Mr. Civic- Justice ') — might be said in Aristotelian parlance to have been devised after the plot and for the sake of it, and not the plot for them ; the Plutus of Aristophanes would illustrate the point of Aristotle quite as well as any play from the New Comedy of Greece or from Plautus and Terence.] From all this it is evident that the comic poet (poet The [comic] = ' maker ') is a maker of plots more than a maker of * maker * or verses, inasmuch as he is a poet by virtue of imitating some object, and the object he imitates is an action. And even if he happens to take a subject from what actually has happened, he is none the less a poet for jJ^S' 1 ' that ; since there is nothing to hinder certain actual events from possessing a comic sequence governed by ihe law of probability or necessity ; and it is by virtue oi representing the quality in such events that he is found in actual events 194 THE POETICS APPLIED TO COMEDY Purely epi- sodic [comic] plots are the worst -f>.\i l' i( » 1 k The emotions [of comedy] are aroused by an unex- pected out- come in a causal se- quence their poet. [Thus, for the series of contests in the Frogs, ending in the dramatic contest between Eurip- ides and Aeschylus, Aristophanes takes the sequence of events at the City Dionysia, generalizing it for comic purposes.] Of imperfect plots and actions the episodic are the worst, a plot being called ' epis odic ' when there is no observance oi prxdaahility or necessity in the sequence of incident. Inferior poets construct this kind of plot through their own fault ; good poets, in order to meet the requirements of the actors. Since his work must be presented on the stage, and occupy a certain length . of time, a good poet will often stretch out the plot beyond its natural capacity, and by the insertion of unnecessary matter will be forced to distort the se- quence of incident. [The comic poet might reckon with the principle by not introducing the irrelevant without an air of relevancy. Otherwise we have the fault illustrated by the insertion of Polichinelle and his adventures in Le Malade Imaginaire of Mo- liere.] But to proceed with the parts of the definition of comedy. Comedy is an imitation, not only of a com- plete action, but of incidents that arouse pleasure and laughter ; and such incidents affect us most when we are not expecting them, if at same time they are caused, or have an air of being caused, by one another ; for we are struck with more amusement if we find a causal relation in unexpected comic occurrences than if they come about of themselves and in no special sequence ; since even pure coincidences seem most amusing if there is something that looks like design in them. Plots therefore that illustrate the principle of necessity or probability in the sequence of incident are better than others. POETICS 10, ii 195 But comic plots are either uninvolved or involved, Chapter 10 since the actions which are imitated in the plots may ^ n n ,j n | V n ^f v d ed readily be divided into the same two classes. Now we [comicl plots may call an action uninvolved when the incidents x n ,1 • , . Uninvolved ioilow one another in a single continuous movement ; action that is, when the change of fortune comes about without a reversal of situation and without a discovery. [Such a plot is represented in the main action of the Birds of Aristophanes — though there are incidental recog- nitions or discoveries, and temporary dangers threat- ening a reversal in the fortunes of the hero.] An involved action is one in which the change of fortune action is attended by a discovery or a reversal, or by both together. And each of these two incidents should arise from the structure of the plot itself ; that is, each should be [or there should be a comic pretence that it is] the necessary or probable result of the inci- dents that have gone before, and should not merely follow them in point of time — for in the sequence ot events there is a vast difference between -post hoc and propter hoc. A reversal of situation is a change in some part of Chapter n the action from one state of affairs to its precise oppo- f Reva ™ al of site — as has been said, from better fortune to worse, or from worse to better ; and a change that takes place in the manner just described, namely, with reference to the law of probable or necessary sequence. [Ton illustrate : in the Frogs of Aristophanes the god Dio- nysus visits Hades for the purpose of bringing back the tragic poet Euripides to Athens, but after discovering the greater weight of the verse of Aeschylus, and his superior political sentiments, brings back the latter poet instead. A reversal may constitute the main turning-point in a comedy, as in the instance just noted, or as in Moliere's Tartuffe, where the discovery of the impostor (4. 7) is attended by a reversal of his fortunes From better to worse t 1 96 THE POETICS APPLIED TO COMEDY Or from worse to better Discovery or recognition Discovery of things Discovery of deeds (5. 7) ; or it may be subsidiary, as earlier in the Frogs, where we have an extended episode of discovery con- cerning the identity of Dionysus, involving him in temporary comic misfortune.] There is also the opposite change, from worse for- tune to better. [So the discovery of the regal nature of the Hoopoe by Peisthetaerus, and of the anti-dicast Peisthetaerus by the Hoopoe, in the Birds of Aristoph- anes, is attended by a change to better fortune for both. With the discovery at the end of the Frogs comes worse fortune for Euripides, and better for Aeschylus. — ^•*fT3ut the worse fortune of co med y is riot p airifuLJ A discovery7as the word itself indicates, is a trans- ition from ignorance to knowledge, resulting either in friendship or in enmity on the part of those agents who are designed for better or worse fortune. The most artistic form of discovery is one attended by a reversal of fortune — [such a reversal as attends the mutual recognition of Peisthetaerus and the Hoopoe in the Birds]. There are, of course, other kinds of discovery besides that of the identity of persons ; a transition from ignorance to knowledge may come about with reference to inanimate, even casual, things. [The discovery of an inanimate thing may be illustrated in the finding of Euclio's pot of money by Strobilus in the Aulularia of Plautus, or the finding of Harpagon's cash-box by La Fleche in Moliere's L'Avare ; and the discovery of something casual is seen in the recognition by various persons in Hades of the lion-skin and club of Heracles borne by Dionysus in the Frogs of Aristoph- anes.] It is also possible to discover whether some person has done, or not done, a particular deed. [For example, in the Frogs, whether it was the god, or his slave Xanthias, who had, as Heracles, harried the underworld; the disclosure that Asclepius and his servants had restored the sight of Plutus, god of wealth, m the Plutus of Aristophanes, is another instance.] POETICS ii 197 But the discovery bringing friendship or enmity, and the reversal bringing success or failure, will most effectively occasion the pleasure and laughter which it is the function of comedy to arouse. Furthermore, this kind of discovery will be instrumental in bringing about the happy ending of the action as a whole. Now since, in this case, the discovery means a recognition of persons, rather than of objects or deeds, there are two possibilities : (1) X may learn the identity of Y, when Y already knows the identity of X ; or (2) X and Y may each have to learn the identity of the other. [Thus, at the opening of Aristophanes' Plutus, Chrem- ylus must learn the identity of the blind god, while in Shakespeare's Comedy of Errors Antipholus of Ephesus and Antipholus of Syracuse must each learn the identity of the other.] Two parts of the plot, then, reversal and discovery,; represent these things in the action, and have been! sufficiently explained. A third part would be the] comic incident. This might be defined as an occur- rence of a specially ludicrous or joyful sort. [Such would be harmless beatings or losses, gains and success- ful devices, victories in contests, marriages, feasts, and the like. The comic incident wo uld b e the parallel to Aristotle's third part, 'su ffering' Tpathos), in the tr agic pin t -piJflZa-natnrally thiinVnf the main reversal, or discovery, or comic incident, as the reversal, or dis- covery, or comic incident in the play ; but in so doing we may fail to grasp the analytical method of Aristotle. The fact is, wherever we find one of these, whether of major or minor significance, there we have one of the three elements of plot. Aristotle notes, for example, that the Odyssey is full of discoveries. Compare what is said above (pp. 185-6) of moral bent and intellect and their occurrence throughout a play. The comic incident may be illustrated by the alternate beatings given by Aeacus to Xanthias and Dionysus in the Frogs, the 7' Parts of the plot K 1. Reversal 2. Discovery 3. [The comic' incident] ~'<4 1 98 THE POETICS APPLIED TO COMEDY X restoration of sight to the god of wealth in the Plutus, the regaining of his youth by Demus in the Knights, the feast at the end of the Frogs, loss and gain of treasure in Plautus (in the Trinummus and Aulularia) and Moliere (in L'Avare), and the marriages with which most of the comedies of Aristophanes, and indeed com- edies in general, end. The chief comic incident of an f^"~Aristophanic play may be the contest or agon ; for ex- \ ample, perhaps, the dramatic contest between Aeschylus \ and Euripides in the Frogs.] Formative elements [of comedy] Quantitative parts [of comedy] Chapter 12 Mention having been made of the six formative [' constitutive ' or ' qualitative '] elements of comedy, we now come to the division of comedy into its quanti- tative elements — the separate sections into which a play is divided. [In a modern comedy the quanti- tative parts are simply the acts, or acts and scenes, the division into five acts being earlier than the Re- naissance, certainly as early as Varro, probably dis- coverable in Plautus, and doubtless as old as Menander. As comedy (or tragedy) may be resolved by analysis into constituent elements comparable to the formative tissues of an organism, so it may be divided quantita- tively, as we may divide an organism at the junction of the visible parts — as one might divide a creature of five segments into five. As for the quantitative parts in Aristophanes (compare above, pp. 56—9), his comedy has the following divisions: prologue, parode, agon, parabasis, episode, choricon, and exode. Five of these are found also in Greek tragedy : prologue, parode, episode, choricon, and exode. The prologue is that entire part of the comedy from the beginning to the parode of the chorus; the parode is the first whole statement of the chorus ; the choricon, sung by the chorus, corresponds to the stasimon of tragedy; in Aristophanes, the exode, with which the comedy ends, can not be precisely equated with the exode of tragedy. In addition, there are two parts of comedy which are not found in tragedy : parabasis and agon. The parab- asis is ordinarily placed in the middle of the comedy ; POETICS 12, 13 199 if complete, and if we regard the pnigos as a separate subdivision (see above, p. 57), the parabasis comprises seven subdivisions : the commation, the parabasis proper, the pnigos, the ode, the epirrhema, the antode, the antepirrhema. The agon or debate is an argument in which two persons contend for the mastery; one of the contestants may be the chorus, as in the Birds of Aristophanes. When complete, the agon consists of nine parts, the second four of these being paired with the first four : ode, cataceleusmos, epirrhema, pnigos, antode, anticataceleusmos, antepirrhema, anti- pnigos, sphragis. One may add the following from J. W. White, p. 21 : ' Another division which, like the parabasis and the debate, is wholly peculiar to comedy is the syzygy, thus named because it consists regularly of four balanced parts, a song and a spoken part united with a second song and a second spoken part. A syzygy may occur in either half of the play. The action of the play is at a standstill during the debate and the parabasis, and a division, called scene, was gradually developed, the purpose of which was chiefly to adjust these larger divisions to the action. It is nor- mally a spoken part, and generally occurs ... in the first half of the play. The action of the second half of the play is carried forward mainly in a division consisting of episode and stasimon, which in their form and function resemble the corresponding parts of tragedy.'] Such, then, are the parts into which comedy is di- vided quantitatively, or according to its sections. The parts which are to be employed as formative elements have already been mentioned. After what has been said above (esp. pp. 195—8), we Chapter 13 must next discuss the following points : (1) What is the comic poet to aim at, and what is he to avoid, in the construction of his plots ? In other words, (2) what are the specific sources of comic effect ? In the perfect comedy, as we have seen, the synthesis of the incidents must be, not uninvolved, but involved, The Ideal structure [for the function of comedy] 200 THE POETICS APPLIED TO COMEDY and this synthesis must be imitative of occurrences that arouse pleasure and laughter — for therein lies the distinctive function of this kind of imitation. Good and just men are not to be represented as ultimately to be avoided unfortunate, for this is not ludicrous, but painful. Nor must evil men be represented as ultimately success- ful ; nor, again, may an excessively wicked man be represented as falling from prosperity into misfortune. These situations are neither ludicrous nor pleasing, for laughter is aroused by a defect or disproportion which is not paintul, and we are pleased_ at_observlng the success oT one like ourselves. But an excessively P Liu wicked man deserves misery in proportion, and since his wickedness exceeds the average, he is not like one of ourselves. There remains, then, the case o f the man Jtuat P ion ,erab 8 , intermediate"; between jthese ext remes : a man not ex- cessively" bad and unjust, nor yet one whose career is marked by virtue and prudence, but one whose actions become ridiculous through some ordinary shortcoming ') \ or foible — one from the number of everyday citizens, such as Peisthetaerus, Chremylus, Dicaeopolis, and men ' l^of that sort. To_be perfectly_jgomic. accordingly, the happy "IsSe'.p plot must not have a double issue7^ortunate~f5f the '""'' ' '. better, unfortunate for the 'worse.' And the change ^of fortune must be, not a fall from happiness to mis- fortune, but a transition from ill success to good. And the action must come about, not through great excel- j | lence or depravity of jcharacter^-boiElhxaugFsonie ludi- £y$"4<^ crous defect or shortcoming in conduct, in a person either no better than the averagTof mankind, or rather worse than that. [To the foregoing one should perhaps add, as possibly Aristotelian, the analysis of Cicero (see above, p. 88) : ' Neither an eminent or flagitious villain nor a wretch remarkably harassed with mis- fortunes is the proper subject of ridicule. . . . And te < POETICS 13, 14 201 the objects that are most easily played upon are those that deserve neither great detestation nor the greatest compassion. Hence it happens that the whole subject of the ridiculous lies in the moral vices of men who are neither beloved nor miserable, nor deserving to be dragged to punishment for their crimes.'] Second in excellence comes the form of construction where the thread is double, and there is a happy and an unhappy ending for the better and the worse agents respectively. Such is the outcome in the Odyssey. The pleasure arising from this double structure is not-—, the distinctive pleasure of tragedy; it is rather one that belongs to comedy, where the deadliest of legendary edy dealing foes, like Orestes and Aegisthus, become friends, and and AeBisthus quit the stage without any one slaying or being slain. ,../' The effect of comedy may be produced by means Chapter 14 that appertain simply to presentation on the stage Jjjjjjjjj *Jj* [as by the costumes, partly beautiful, partly ludicrous, jMujar^means in the Birds of Aristophanes]. But it may also arise «s«c from the structure and incidents of the comedy, which is the preferable way, and is the mark of a better poet [ — and such really is the case with the Birds] ; for the plot should be so constructed that, even without help ?„"„"„,•„"$„ from the eye, one who simply hears the story must JjJ™ »J» «- thrill with pleasure, and be moved to laughter, at what fZw*"*' occurs. In fact, these are just the emotions one would feel in listening to the story of the Birds off the stage. To bring about the_comic effect by spectacular means^ ^J A is less~ alnatleTofjlF poetic art;' and depends upon / adventitious aid. But those who employ the means of the stage to produce what is grotesque, without being ludicrous, are absolute strangers to the art of comedy ; for not every kind of pleasure is to be sought from a comedy, but only that specific pleasure which is characteristic of this art. [inferior] 202 THE POETICS APPLIED TO COMEDY Since the pleasure which is characteristic of comedy comes from the arousal of laughter, and since the poet must produce this pleasure through an imitation of some action, it is clear that the comic quality must be impressed upon the incidents that make up the story. Let us consider, then, what kinds of occurrence strike us as ludicrous. [For this topic, see perhaps the Tractatus Coislinianus, below, pp. 225, 229—59 > accord- ing to that, however, comic effect would seem to arise in possibly equal measure from the occurrences represent- ed, and from the diction.] Chapter 15 We turn to the moral dispositions of the agents. The ethos of In respect to these, there are four things for the poet to aim at. First of all, (1) t he agents must not be good. The ethical element will be present if, as already men- it must^e tioned (pp. 183, 185) , by speech or act the agents manifest a certain moral bent in what they choose to do or avoid ; and the ethos will be inferior if the habit of choice is so. [' Good ' means good in its kind, performing its function, .good ^or something; and in feriority wil l mean (f ailing sh orjaoiJJaST^ Such inferiority is pos- sible in aH types" of humanity, not merely in a woman or a slave — woman being perhaps an inferior type, and the slave quite worthless — [but also in a citizen or poSf muTt lc ; ~j a traditional hero.] Secondly, (2) the comic poet in minVlne i representing the agents must keep in mind the law of SW $e \ truthJaJtyp^ There is, for example, a type of manly valor and eloquence; [and the poet would have this type in mind when representing such a personage as Dionysus in the Frogs of Aristophanes ; nor for com edy wo HllJt-i§~i r iaEEJopriate to represent a woman as valorous in this way, or as masterly in argument — as XlhT li n the Lysistrata.] Thirdly, (3) there is the principle ,ife of truth to life, which is different from the principle of common inferiority, or from that of truth to type. Fourthly, (4) the comic poet must keep in mind the "X POETICS 15 203 principle of co nsistency in the ethos. [If the characters The principle are not true to their" nature as first presented, their 0,cons!stency inconsistency must not be accidental. Departures from the norm must not be made without suggesting the norm. The chorus in the Achamians is ludicrously inconsistent.] As in combining the incidents of the plot, so also in representing the agents, the comic poet must bear in mind the principle of a necessary or probable relation The inner , , ,, . , — ; *— — ~ ... man and the between one t hing and another. That is, a certain succession of , . j 7 — ; — -, . . „ , his words and kind 01 person must speak or act in a certain fashion acts as the necessary or probable outcome of his inward nature ; [or, if not, still the deviations must be made with an eye to the principle.] Even in comedy it is desirable that the solution of dramatic situations should Natural se- . ,, ■, ,1 , , , , quence rather come to pass through the progress of the story itself ; than mecnan- [though the use of a mechanical device like the deus ex machina is permissible if the effect of the device in itself is comic]. Since comedy is an imitation of men worse than the The [comic] J poet must de- average, it is necessary for the comic poet to observe the pict flaws of cnsrflctflr und method of successful caricaturists ; for they reproduce yet preserve J r average mora- the distinctive features of the original, and yet, while »ty preserving the likeness of a man, render him ludicrous and distorted — though not painfully so — in the picture. So, too, the comic poet, in imitating men of the common sort, must represent them as such, and yet as ambitious, irascible, or faulty in some other way ; [but not painfully so — men like Peisthetaerus and Dicaeopolis in the Birds and the Achamians of Aristophanes]. These principles the comic poet must constantly The [comic] bear in mind, and, in addition, such principles of stage- oiye due ■*■ attention to effect as necessarily concern the art of poetry [as distinct stage-effect from the technique of the costumer, or the like] ; since r* -> ] (J) 204 THE POETICS APPLIED TO COMEDY here also mistakes can often be made. But on this head enough has already been said in a work already published. [The reference may be to a lost dialogue of Aristotle On Poets.] Chapter 16 The general nature of discovery has been explained Discovery: above (pp. 1 96— 7). We may now examine the several species. The first, and [for tragedy] the least artistic, kind of discovery is recognition by marks or tokens, which may be either congenital or acquired after birth — whether bodily marks, as scars, or external tokens. [Such would be the club and lion-skin of Heracles borne by Dionysus in the Frogs. The objection to such means of discovery on the ground that they are arbitrary and mechanical (not logical and directed at the faculty of reascn), which holds for tragedy, does not hold in the same way for comedy, since here the arbitrary or mechanical device may be employed, as such; "for a comic~~puTpo'5E:-~-However,- - t hey m ay "be —used in a better or a worse fashion, since it is better that they should appear in the natural course of events, as in the case mentioned in the Frogs.] The second kind are discoveries arbitrarily intro- duced by the poet [that is, again not growing out of the sequence of events], and for that reason less ar- tistic. J\An example is the arbitrary disclosure respect- ing Aeschylus and Euripides in the Frogs 758 ; another, the arbitrary recognition of Iris in the Birds 1204 (but here a joke is involved in the method).] The third kind is discovery through memory, when the inward man, stirred by hearing or seeing something familiar, is led to display his feelings. [And so his identity is revealed. One of the two examples given in the Poetics is that of Odysseus at the Court of Alcin- ous. When Odysseus hears the minstrel chant the adventure of the Wooden Horse, he is reminded of the past, and his weeping leads to the disclosure of his identity. In the Biblical story of Joseph, the hero POETICS 16, 17 205 weeps at the sight of his brother Benjamin, but retires to hide his emotion, so that the discovery at this point is merely suggested, to be effected later in another way. In pure comedy, the laughter of X at the recital of an episode in which he had taken a leading part could be used to effect his recognition by Y.] The fourth kind is discovery by a process of .reason- *• Discovery ing. [Thus the identity of the twins Antipholus of ^Ephesus and Antipholus of Syracuse, and of their twin slaves, is made clear to the Duke, in Shakespeare's Comedy of Error s, Act 5, by a process of reasoning.] Allied to this is (fifth) discovery by false inference, where the poet causes X to be recognized by Y through discovery the false inference of Y [whether through an uninten- sophistical L ° deception tional fallacy on either side, or through a logical de- ception practised upon one by the other. (See Appen- dix, below, pp. 290-305.)] But of all discoveries, the best is the kind that grows 6. The best out of the very nature of the incidents, wh en an amus- coveryVows ing revelation comes about from suitable antecedents action itself [as in the recognition of the God of Wealth by Chrem- ylus in the Plutus of Aristophanes. — So also the ./ disc overy of Tartuffe as an impostor, by J)jgon, in 3""p Moliere}. — The next best are those that come about through a process of reasoning, [or through false infer- ence, well handled by the comic poet]. When actually composing his comedies, and working Chapter 17 out the plots in the diction, the poet should endeavor to Practical , , . . T , , . hints for the utmost to visualize what he is representing. In this t^work of way, seeing everything with all possible vividness as [comedies] if he were a spectator of the incidents he is portraying, How to avoid * _ , [unintentional i he will devise what is fitting for comedy, and run the incongruities . . . in the action least danger of overlooking unintended inconsistencies. [See below, pp. 244-9, 257-9.] As far as possible, the comic poet should also assume the very attitudes and gestures appropriate to the How to suc- 206 THE POETICS APPLIED TO COMEDY agents ; for, of authors with the same natural ability, deiineTtinB they will be most effective who themselves experience SSS?^"" the feelings they represent. The poet who himself their feelings feek the impulses to j rony or garrulity will represent irony or garrulity in the most lifelike fashion. Hence the art of comedy requires either a certain natural Two kinds plasticity in the poet, or a personal tendency to be ironi- Soeh 0mlcl cal or the like. Poets of the first sort readily assume one comic personality after another ; those of the second naturally pass into intensified modes of their own habitual reactions. [One might instance Aristophanes, Shakespeare, and Moliere as comic poets of the plastic sort, Plautus and Swift as possessed of a comic bias.] As for the plot, whether it be his own invention or must make an a traditional story, the comic poet should first make a sketeh 8 of reduced sketch of the whole, generalizing it, and then [comedy]" fill in and expand this by developing the episodes. How one may take a generalized view of the plot may be illustrated from [the Frogs of Aristophanes,] the plan of which is this : [A certain god who presides over comedy as well as tragedy, perceiving that a city is by their death bereft of all its superior tragic poets, decides to visit the underworld to bring one back to life. With a servant he consults a hero, victor in many contests, and, disguised as this hero, after various struggles, arrives at his destination, to find that a contest has been instituted between the poet he seeks and a rival tragic poet. As judge of the contest the god decides in favor of the rival poet, and with a reversal of intention brings him back to earth.] When the general outline has been determined, and Then fill in . ° the episodes fitting names have been supplied for the agents, the next thing is to elaborate the episodes. Now care must be taken that the episodes are suited to the comic action and the comic agents. [In the Frogs, for ex- ample, the contest between Dionysus and the ' frog- POETICS 17, 18 207 swans ' is an appropriate episode, since it comes in the natural order of events, since it is a prelude to the con- test between the tragic poets, and since the whole play is an imitation of a Dionysiac competition in music and drama ; and the encounter of Dionysus and Xan- thias with Aeacus is likewise appropriate, since it is in keeping with the tradition of Heracles, and leads to the discovery of the contest between Euripides and Aeschylus. And this contest is likewise an appropriate episode.] The episodes must also be of an appropriate length. In comic dramas they are short ; in a comic narrative it is they that serve to extend the work. [The main plan of Fielding's Tom Jones, for example, is not long : A certain foundling is through guile estranged from his benefactor, and driven from his home and his love, and is secretly dogged by his rival. After many adventures he is imprisoned, a conspiracy having meanwhile been formed to marry his love to his rival. At length he is released, and his real identity disclosed, the outcome being that he is restored to his home and united to his love, and his rival banished. This is the essential argument of the story ; all the rest is in the nature of episode.] Every comedy consists of (1) a complication, and (2) Chapter 18 an unraveling. The incidents lying outside the action compjie»Hon proper, and often certain of the incidents within it, meat form the complication ; the rest of the play constitutes the unraveling. More specifically, by complication is meant everything from the beginning up to that inci- dent, the last in a series, out of which comes the change of fortune ; by unraveling or denouement, everything from the change of fortune to the end of the play. [In the Frogs, the complication embraces everything up to the weighing of the lines of the two poets, and the dinouement everything from that point to the end. In the Plutus, the complication includes everything up to the restoration of sight in the God of Wealth, and the denouement consists of the remainder of the play.] 208 THE POETICS APPLIED TO COMEDY [Of ludicrous incident] Of character Of spectacle Four specie! Four different parts of the play have been discussed [of comedy] ... -, , , ,. according t< as factors in comic effect, namely : reversal and dis- sources of . . J > " [comic] effe« covery ; [the comic incident] ; moral bent, or character, I in the agents ; and spectacular means. Corresponding to the relative prominence of one or another of these „ ■ factors in a play, there are four species of comedy: (i) Thejrrvolved, where the whole play is a recogni tion-" p?ot m6dyl "^^with change of fortune. [This is substantially the case ^Nin the Plutus of Aristophanes, the Tartuffe of Moliere, and Shakespeare's Comedy of Errors.] (2) The comedy i of ludicrousJ ricideat~=- ffor example, the Frogs of Aris- tophanes.] (3) The comedy in which the nature of the •■ agents is paramou nt ; [for example, the Misanthrope of Moliere]. Then (4) there is a fourth kind in which ' the spectacular elemenl.-is-very _ important, [as in the Birds of Aristophanes, and Rostand's Chantecler]. But the poet should do his best to combine every element of comic effect, or, failing that, the more important ones, and the major part of them. The effort is very necessary in a time of unfair criticism. Since in pre- vious times there have been authors who were success- ful, one in the use of one source of effect, another in the use of another, critics expect a new poet to surpass them all in their several lines of excellence. But in comparing one comedy with another, the fairest way is to begin with the plots as a basis of criticism ; and this amounts to a comparison of complication with complication, and of denouement with denouement. Many authors succeed in the complication, and then fail in the unraveling. But the comic poet must show mastery of construction in both. The poet must likewise remember not to employ a multiple story, like that of a mock-epic, for the subject of a comedy. In the mock-epic, owing to its scale, Unfair de- mands of criticism The fair basis of comparison is mastery ef plot The [comic] poet must not fall In the un- raveling A multiple story Is to be avoided [in comedy] POETICS 18, 19 209 every part assumes its proper length; but when the entire scheme is reduced to the scale of a drama, the result is unsatisfactory. [Thus Moliere properly takes but a part of the legend of Don Juan for the subject of his comedy ; and again, following Plautus, in Amphit- ryon he dramatizes but a part of the story of Heracles.] The comic chorus should be regarded as belonging The [comic] to the dramatis personae ; it should be an integral part treat th" of the whole, and take its share in the action. [The anions the model is the practice of Aristophanes ; for example, his aBen,s Pr ° P6r use of the chorus in the Birds, the Achamians, and Lysistrata.] In certain later comedies the songs have no more connection with the plot than with that of any other play ; the chorus sing mere interludes. [This seems to have been true of plays by Menander. A modern instance is the intercalated choral matter of the Second Intermede in Le Malade Imaginaire. The Troisieme Intermede is more directly related to the substance of the play. In the Avertissement to Les Facheux Moliere apologizes for certain places where the ballet functions less naturally.] And yet, what real difference is there between introducing a song that is foreign to the action and attempting to fit a speech, (or a whole episode, 1 ) from one drama into another ? The other formative elements of comedy having now chapter 19 been discussed, it remains to speak of diction and intellect. As for the intellectual element, we may on dianoia assume what has been said in the Aristotelian treatise Xs!/w>e/oVic on Rhetoric, to which inquiry the topic more properly belongs. [For comedy the poet needs an understands., ing of^rh£tOTicaIjk>r^ sometimes positively observe them, and sometimes (as in representi ng garrulity or nonsense) knowingly depart from them.J The intellectual element includes every* 1 The expression in parentheses is probably an interpolation in the text of the Poetics; see Gudeman, Philologus 76. 258-9. 210 THE POETICS APPLIED TO COMEDY thing that is to be effected by the language of the agents — in their efforts to prove and to refute, to arouse one another's emotions, such as love, or cupidity, or anger, or the like, and to exaggerate or diminish the impor- tance of things. [See, for example, the speeches of proof and refutation employed by Chremylus and Poverty in discussing the advantages and disadvantages of a redistribution of wealth, in the Plutus of Aristoph- anes ; the efforts of the chorus to augment the emulation of Euripides and Aeschylus in the Frogs ; and the proc- esses of magnifying and minifying, in the same play, which the two poets make use of in estimating, each of them, his own tragedies and those of his rival.] It is evident, too, that the same underlying forms of thought must be in operation whenever the comic poet makes the agents try by their acts to arouse emotion in one another, or to give these acts an air of impor- tance or naturalness. [An example would be the alter- nate blows inflicted by Aeacus upon Dionysus and Xanthias, in the Frogs, with a view to eliciting a cry of pain from the one who is not a god, and the efforts of the victims to make their reactions seem natural or unimportant.] The only difference is that with the act the impression has to be made without explanation ; whereas with the spoken word it has to be made by the speaker, and result from his language; for what would be the function of the speaker if things appeared in the desired light quite apart from anything that might be said ? [In the example just given, the ex- planations of Xanthias and Dionysus supplement their actions.] Under the head of diction, one subject for inquiry is the modes of spoken utterance — the difference be- tween command and entreaty, declaration and threat, question and answer, and the like. Such distinctions, however, concern, not the poet, but the interpreter, POETICS 20, 21 211 and the student of elocution. Whether the poet knows these things or not, they do not directly concern his art, nor do they offer a basis for criticizing him. The diction proper, taken as a whole, is made up of Chapter 2 o the following parts. [The list begins with the smallest Diction prop- elements, and proceeds synthetically to the largest 5 5 tSftrt composite factors of discourse — running from the of i con ""M indivisible sound and the syllable to the entire poem regarded as a continuous and unified utterance.] (i) The ultimate element (virtually letter) ; (2) the Tne P arts ... ,,. °' diction primary combination of ultimate elements (not quite a ' syllable ') ; (3) the connective particle ; (4) the sepa- rative particle ; (5) the noun (or name-word, including adjectives as well as nouns) ; (6) the verb ; (7) the in- flection ; (8) the speech (or unified utterance, from a phrase to a poem). [? See below, pp. 225, 229—39. What is said in the Poetics regarding the parts of diction is so general in its bearing on the art of composition that there is no need of repeating all of it here. Only a few passages are utilized in the following.] A speech (logos, or unified utterance) is a composite significant sound, which may be a unit in either of two ways. It may signify one thing, as the definition of man : ' A biped land-animal.' Or the unity may be brought about through the conjunction of more than one utterance. [Thus the Odyssey, or the serenade of the Hoopoe in the Birds of Aristophanes, is one utterance through the binding together of a number.] Nouns (or name- words) are of two kinds, simple and Chapter 21 compound. Bv simple are meant those that are formed Nouns [or r J r iii names] are of non-significant elements, as the word Y?i [earth), simple or , .', . ' compound A compound noun may be made up of a significant and a non-significant part [as &Butos (unjust)], though the distinction is lost when the parts are united ; or it may be made up of two parts, both of which, taken by 02 212 THE POETICS APPLIED TO COMEDY Ornamental themselves, are significant, [as dcspopaTw (air-tread = ' I tread the air ')]. A compound noun may also be triple or quadruple or multiple in form. [Compare Godm'YYo-loYx-UTfivK-'bm (' long-beard-Iance-and-trumpet- men ') in Frogs 966 ; <7ap5iaqjt,o-raTi>o-xapcTai (' flesh- tearers-with-the-pine '), ibid. ; a^ptx.yih-ow^-Kpyo-yi.o^f^xi; (' lazy long-haired fops with rings and natty nails '), Clouds 332 ; and also Poly-machaero-plagides (Pseudo- lus 988) and Thesauro-chrysonico-chrysides (Captives 286), facetious proper names taken over by Plautus from the Middle or the New Greek Comedy.] Whatever the formation, a noun (or name) is either (1) the current term for a thing ; or (2) a strange (or rare) word ; or (3) a metaphor ; or (4) an ornamental word ; or (5) a newly-coined word ; or a word that is (6) lengthened, or (7) curtailed, or (8) altered. By a current term is meant the word used by people about us ; by a strange (or rare) word, one that is used in another region. Obviously the same word may be both strange or current, though not with reference to the same region. [Thus ypdoc (Lysistrata 91) would be current in Sparta, but rare at Athens, where the word for ' good ' would be dcyaOo?.] Metaphor (including figures of speech generally) con- sists in the application to one thing of the name that belongs to another. (1) The name of the genus may be applied to a subordinate species. (2) The name of a species may be applied to the inclusive genus. (3) Under the same genus, the name of one species may be applied to another. Or (4) there may be a transference of names on grounds of analogy (or proportion). [The ornamental word is listed, but not defined, in the Poetics. , It may mean the superior or more beauti- ful word, when there is a choice of synonyms ; see, for example, the use of jtMtmy? (' scale ') instead of oraOps in the Frogs 1378.] k^AA''f"€^'<'^<^^4 s A POETICS 2i, 22 213 A newly-coined word is one that is wholly unknown s. eoined to any region, and is applied to something by an indi- vidual poet, for there seem to be words of this origin [— a s hoax, r epresenting thejjaUof the frogs, in Aris- __ === , tophanes]! ^ A lengthened word is one in which a customary short 6. Lengthened 1 . -i words vowel is made long, or m which an extra syllable is inserted [ — as Nuofyov (Frogs 215) for Nfoiov]. A curtailed word is one from which some part has 7- curtailed been removed; [for example, cpiTru (Peace 1164) for (piTU[Mc]. An altered word is one which the poet, having left «■ Altered some part unchanged, remodels the rest ; [for example, xnrrf? (Acharnians 1137) from x&m]]. In respect to diction, the ideal for the poet is to be Chapter 22 clear without being mean. The clearest diction is choice of words that which is wholly made up of current terms (the ordinary words for things). But a style so composed The ideal is is mean. But the language attains a distinction distinction [suitable to comedy] when the poet makes use of terms that are less familiar, such as rare words, metaphors, lengthened forms — everything that deviates from the ordinary usage. Yet if one compose in a diction of such terms alone, the result will be either a riddle or Riddles a jargon — a riddle if the language be nothing but metaphors, and a jargon if it be nothing but strange Jargon words (dialectal forms and the like). [Compare the metaphorical utterance of the oracle as given by De- mosthenes to the Sausage-seller in the Knights of Aris- tophanes (Knights 197-201) ; and the jargon uttered by Pseudartabas in the Acharnians 100, 104.] The comic poet should employ a certain admixture of these Howrto r r j secure dls~ expressions that deviate from the ordinary; for jiis : tinction tinction and elevation of style will result from the use 314 THE POETICS APPLIED TO COMEDY How clear- ness Lengthened words for comic effect Metaphors, strange words, etc., for comic effect & A command of metaphor Is the mark of genius Varieties of diction for different, / kinds ofS/ <■" poetry of such means as the strange word, the metaphor, the ornamental word, and the rest ; and clearness will arise from such part of the language as is in common use. Very important in helping to make the style clear without loss of distinction are the lengthened, curtailed, and altered forms of words. Their deviation from the customary forms will lend the quality of distinction ; and the element they have in common with ordinary usage will give clearness. An obtrusive employment of the device of lengthening words will, of course, become ludicrous, [and hence will serve the ends of comedy] ; and the same thing is true of any similar stylistic pro- cedure. With metaphors also, and strange words, and the rest, a like effect will ensue if they are used improp- erly, and with the aim of causing laughter. [The lan- guage of Aristophanes is in the main pure Attic and clear, attaining_distinction, without affectation, and without coarseness, """wnere the comic purpose allows.] It is, indeed, important to make the right use of each of the elements mentioned — lengthened, curtailed, and altered words — as well as of compound and strange words. But most important by far is it to have a command of metaphor, this being the one thing the poet can not learn from others. It is the mark of genius, for to produce apt metaphors requires an intui- tive perception of resemblances. Of the several kinds we have noted, ^cjuTentwords ^-i£!L^ a ^^Jt2J£Q n 3 ed y.] compound words~to~the dithyramb, strange words to heroic metre [that is, to epic poetry], and metaphors to iambic metre [that is, to the tragic dialogue]. In heroic poetry, it is true, [and in comedy,] all special forms may be used. But iambic verse in comedy represents the spoken language, POETICS 22, 23, 24 215 and tends to employ the current term, the metaphor, and the ornamental word [or its opposite]. Herewith we close the discussion of comedy as an art of imitation in the form of action. And- now for the comic narrative. In this, as in Chapter 23 comedy proper, the story should be constructed on what the dramatic principles : everything should turn about a rative has single action, one that is a whole, and is organically with [com- perfect — having a beginning, and a middle, and an end. In this way, just as a living animal, individual and perfect, has its own excellence, so the narrative will arouse its own characteristic pleasure. In other " is !">' a r chronicle; words, the plot of a comic narrative must be unlike tt mu . ! * ha .Y." * organic unity what we ordinarily find in histories, which of necessity represent, not a single action, but some one period, with all that happened therein to one or more persons, however unrelated the several incidents may have been. Thus two ludicrous incidents might occur on the same day without converging to the same end ; and similarly one such incident may directly follow another in point of time, and yet there may be no sequence leading to one issue. Nevertheless, one may say that mostw riters of. ..com ic narratives commit, this ver y fault of making their plots like chronicles."" [Compare Byron's Don Juan, which illustrates the fault, with Fielding's Tom Jones, which avoids it.] Further, the varieties of comic narrative must be Chapter 24 similar to those of comedy proper. That is, the story four varieties J r r [of comic nar- must be (1) uninvolved or (2) involved, or else must be rative] (3) one of [comic incident], or (4) of [comic] character. [Aristotle's division of narrative poetry corresponds in the last three points with the similar division under drama (p. 208), but not in the first. The narrative with an uninvolved plot might rank with the kind of 216 THE POETICS APPLIED TO COMEDY Constituents common to a [comic] narra- tive and [comedy] The [comic] narrative differs from [comedy] In length The advantage of length The author is not to obtrude himself In his [comic] narrative drama in which the effect is mainly dependent upon ' spectacle,' the story being, perhaps, ' episodic,' with much description ; otherwise there is a more troublesome discrepancy.] The constituent parts also must be the same as in comedy proper — save that the author does not employ the elements of music and spectacle ; for there are reversals and discoveries [and comic in- cidents] in this form of composition as in that. And the intellectual processes and the diction must be artisti- cally worked out. [Thus Don Quixote is a story with an uninvolved plot, and one of comic incident ; and Tom Jones is, like the Odyssey, an example of an in- volved plot — since there are discoveries throughout, — and is a story of character]. As for the length, an adequate limit has already been suggested : it must be possible for us to embrace the beginning and the end of the story in one view. But, through its capacity for extension, the narrative form has a great and peculiar advantage ; for in a comedy it is not possible to represent a number of incidents in the action as carried on simultaneously — the author is limited to the one thing done on the stage by the actors who are there. But the narrative form enables him to represent a number of incidents as simultaneously occurring; and these, if they are suitable, materially add to the production. The increase in bulk tends to increase the variety of interest through diversity of incident in the episodes. Uniformity of incident quickly satiates the audience, and makes comedies fail on the stage. The master of comic narrative will not be unaware of the part to be taken by the author himself in his work. The a uthor should, in fact, say as little as may b ?H.M s i? w S..pej:son [save possibly for the comic effect arising from intentional and obvious disregard of the POETICS 24 217 principle], since in his personal utterances he is not an imitative artist. In mediocre comic narratives the authors continually express their own sentiments, and their snatches of artistic imitation are few and far be- tween. But a masterly author [as Chaucer], after a brief preliminary, will straightway bring on a man, or a woman, or some other type, no one of them character- less, but each sharply differentiated. An element of the marvelous unquestionably,, has a S, h e Marvelous place in comedy; [and the irrational (or illogical), JUJ,^™, ,he which is the chief factor in the marvelous, and which must as far as possible be excluded from tragedy, is more freely admitted in comedy as well as in comic narrative.] That the marvelous is a source of pleasure ^twji.iiK 01 "' may be seen from the way in which people add to tlie-^ story ; for they always embellish the facts with striking details, in the belief that it will gratify the listeners. . J How to reppe- Yet it is Homer above all who has shown the rest how a >«nt a lie artistically he should be told ; for example, in the Bath Scene in the Odyssey (see below, pp. 295—303). The essence of the method is the use of a logical fallacy. Suppose that, whenever A exists or comes to pass, B must exist or occur ; men think, if the consequent B exists, the ante- cedent A must also — but the inference is illegitimate. For the poet, accordingly, the right method is this : if the antecedent A is untrue, and if there is something else, B, which would exist or occur if A were true, one must elaborate on the B ; for, recognizing the truth of the added details, we accept by fallacious inference the truth of A. [The method has an extensive application in Aristophanic comedy. Thus, by elaborating the details of the aerial city, the poet, in the Birds, leads us to accept the figment, that such '£ ; polifyTias come into existence.] A sequence of events which, though actually impos- Tfifflffifc sible, seems plausible should be preferred by the poet "» ' 7 ^ -.,. ; 218 THE POETICS APPLIED TO COMEDY Chapter 25 Problems and their solutions I, Principle of the object of imitation 2. Principle of the medium 3 Principle of artistic correctness : poetry [In- cluding com- edy] has a standard of its own Two kinds of errors in [comedy] to what, though really possible, seems incredible. [Even the incredible incidents in comedy should receive an air of^r^EbjEr^^orrPffie^JaEoration of ' true ' details, and from a skilfully devised relation to one another.] We come to problems and their solutions. [Aris- totle's problems in criticism, and the principles of their solution, mainly concern the poetry of Homer, though they are stated in a general way ; but at certain points what he says may take on a bearing upon comedy.] (1) The poet is an imitator, like a painter or any other maker of likenesses. Accordingly, he must in all cases represent one of three objects : (a) Things as they once were, or are now ; (b) things as they are said or thought to be ; (c) things as they ought to be for the ends of art. (2) His medium of expression is the dic- tion, unadorned, or with an admixture of strange words and metaphors, or otherwise modified. (3) Further, the standard of correctness is not the same in Poetry as in Politics ; it is different in Poetry [and imitative art generally] from that in any other field of study. [A citizen who fulfilled his duty to the State and in private life would satisfy the standards of Politics and Ethics; but in order to satisfy the conditions of comedy, a personage must be made to display some ludicrous shortcoming.] Within the limits of comedy there can be two kinds of error, the one (a) directly involving the art, the other (b) adventitious. If the comic poet has chosen something for the object of his imitation, and fails properly to represent what he has in mind, this is (a) a fault in his art itself. But if he has made an incorrect choice in the object he wishes to represent, so long as he succeeds in properly imitating [for the ends of comedy] the object he has in mind, his mistake is not one that concerns his art; it is (b) ad- ventitious. Such are the considerations from which POETICS 25 219 one must proceed in dealing with the strictures of critics. First, then, the strictures relating to the art itself. 1 i ™pm»"'"- ... ° lues may be If impossibilities have been unwittingly represented, J^*"' 811 '" the poet is open to criticism. Yet impossibilities may be justified, if their representation subserves the purpose of the art — for we must remember what has been said of the end of comedy ; that is, they are justi- fied if they give the passage they are in, or some other passage, a more ludicrous or surprising effect. Yet *•' l h 8 8 t r com - if the ends of comedy could have been as well or better ? uaM , really J to make no subserved by scientific accuracy, the error is not justi- m| s* al «» fied ; for the poet ought if possible to make no mistakes whatever. Again, when an error is found, one must always ask : J* j^ 1 ^" . J a «^* Is the mistake adventitious, arising from ignorance in adventitious some special field of knowledge, or does it concern the art of imitation as such ? If a caricaturist thinks that a female deer has horns, for example, that is less of an error than to fail in representing the object as he con- ceives it. Again, it may be objected that the representation of p°mi° the poet is not true [to things as they are, or as they «f«n have been]. The answer may be that they are repre- sented as the ypttghTto be?) [T hat is, as they ought to bej> represented ffor~ the endsof _comgryT Thus "Aristoph- anes re ^ies b i n ^° ^gsTriyTiE^ahd Euripides as- worse dramatists than they were.] But ifAhe_representation be true neither to fact nor to the <* grpc ideal?j :he answer may be that it accords with current legends and pop- ular belief : ' People say so.' The unedifying comic tales about the gods, for instance, are, very possibly, neither true nor the preferable yiing ho relate ; in fact, they may be as false and immoral as Xenophanes J *">\y^) f.tln.L r-s . ~ *'/)uL.f ■•/» A, a * 220 THE POETICS APPLIED TO COMEDY Artistic [comic] pro- priety An appeal to the nature of the med- ium declares. But they certainly are in keeping with popular belief. Of still other things which are objected to in comedy, one may possibly say, not that they are worse than the fact here and now, but that the fact was so at the time. As for the question whether something said or done by some one in a comedy is proper or not ; to answer this we must not merely consider the intrinsic quality of the act or utterance, in order to see whether it is noble or base in itself; we must also consider (a) the person who does or says the thing, (b) the person to whom it is done or said, or (c) when, or (d) in whose interest, or (e) with what motive, it is done or said. Thus we must examine any questionable word or act, to see whether the motive of the agent is to increase his advantage or to decrease his disadvantage. [Thus, in the Frogs, the political wisdom uttered by Euripides or Aeschylus is net to be judged at its face value. For example, the speech of Euripides in Frogs 1427—9, taken out of its surroundings, is almost sound advice ; but in its place it is the school-boy rhetoric of a ludicrous personage striving to win a ridiculous advantage over another personage of a similar sort, Aeschylus, from a god who plays the part of a buffoon. See also the seventh speech of the Impostor in Tartuffe 4.5, and Moliere's note : ' C'est un scelerat qui parle.'] The justice or injustice of other criticisms must be decided by the principles of poetic diction. For ex- ample, a mistaken objection may be raised to a passage because the critic fails to see that the comic poet is using a strange word, or a metaphor, or fails to discover the correct pronunciation, or the correct punctuation, or to observe that a grammatical ambiguity is possible, or that the custom of the language has changed, or that there is more than one possibility of meaning in the same word. POETICS 25 221 That is, the right procedure [in dealing with a great mont and comic poet] is just the opposite of the method con- "eSmel'n demned by Glaucon, who says of certain critics : ' They begin with some unwarranted assumption, and, having pronounced judgment in a matter, they go on to argue from this ; and if what the poet says does not agree with what they happen to think, they censure his imag- inary mistake. [Thus it is often asserted that the singing-contest between Dionysus and the Chorus of Frogs has nothing to do with the rest of the play called the Frogs ; there being a false assumption that the basis of the the play is an attack upon Euripides. But the object of imita tion for Arist ophanes is the Dionysiac musicaT""and dramiatic compeIitioh~trahsf erred from — y Athens to the underworld, and~6therwise distorted with / , comic intent — for exa mple. by~assimilation to one of / tj- the laborsor -contests (th¥"surtable~ one) of Heracles." " Throughout there is the notion of musical and literary emulation, exaggerated or attenuated. Accordingly, the singing-contest near the beginning is a suitable pre- liminary to the main episode of the comedy, the frog- like contest oi the tragic poets at the end.] In general, questions, as to the poet's use of im- l^H*^ .' possibilities must be decided by an appeal either (a) to """i"" 1 * 188 the end of comedy, or (b) to the_cpjnicjd£al, or (c) to what is commonly believed. For the ends of comedy, (a) a thing really impossible, but made plausible, is preferable to one that, though possible, does not win belief. And if such men as Pauson painted be called too ugly, the pictures may be defended as (b) true to , the comic_ideal ; for the comic _type is necessarily - in- -*-«, feri or to the a verage and the_ actual. -'"*' What the critics term improbable one must judge by {^JjJJjJUf. an appeal to the end of comedy, or by (c) an appeal to tles popular belief, and by an attempt to show that on occasion the thing may not be improbable; for [as 222 THE POETICS APPLIED TO COMEDY For alleged contradic- tions In language Where the critic had best look for errors [In comedy] Chapter 26 A general problem : [which Is su- perior, comic narrative or comedy proper] [Comedy] can produce Its effect when merely read Agathon suggested] it is likely that something improb- able will now and then occur. As for alleged [unintentional] contradictions in the comic poet's language, these we must scrutinize as one deals with sophistical refutations in argumentation. Then we can see whether the poet in his several state- ments refers to the same thing, in the same relation, and in the same sense, and can judge whether or not he has contradicted what he himself says, or what a person of intelligence normally assumes as true. The censure of the critic is justified, however, when it is directed against faulty sequence in the plot, and against \10bility or depravity in the comic agents; that is, when there is no inherent necessity for excellence or baseness in the agents^ and when the irrational se- quence serves no comic purpose. The question finally suggests itself : Which is the superior form of art, comic narrative or comedy proper ? Those who favor the long narrative may argue thus : The less vulgar form is superior ; and that which is addressed to the better audience is the less vulgar. If this is so, it is obvious that a pantomimic art such as comedy (on the stage) is exceedingly vulgar. So we are told that the comic narrative is addressed to a cultivated audience, which does not need gestures and postures, and comedy to an audience that is inferior and does need them. Accordingly, if comedy is a vulgar art, it evidently is the lower form. But in reply we may say that it is quite possible for comedy to produce its characteristic effect without the appeals connected with presentation on the stage, in just the same way as a comic narrative ; for if a com- edy be merely read, its quality becomes evident. POETICS 26 223 Again, one must argue in favor of comedy proper that it contains every element found in the comic narrative, and that in addition it has elements, not inconsiderable, of its own in spectacle and music — and through the music the characteristic pleasure is distinctly height- ened. Further, the greater vividness of comedy is felt when the play is read as well as when it is acted. Still further, in comedy thej mitation a t to ir 1 * i*s p?rl in less space. And this may be deemed an advantage, since the concentrated effect is more delightful than one which is long-drawn-out, and so diluted. [Consider the result, for example, if one were to lengthen out the' Clouds of Aristophanes (1510 lines) into the number of lines in the Odyssey (12,110 lines).] And again, the unity of action is less strict in the comic narrative ; for if a narrative writer takes a strict- ly unified story, either he will tell it briefly, and it will seem abrupt, or he will make it conform to the usual scale of a long narrative, and then it will seem thin and unsubstantial. If, then, comedy proper is superior to comic narrative in all these respects, and particularly in fulfilling its special function as a form of poetry ; and if we recall, as we must, that the two kinds of literature are to give us, not any chance pleasure, but the definite pleasure we have mentioned ; it is clear that comedy proper, since it attains its poetic end more effectively than comic narrative, is the superior form of the two. [Comedy] is more inclusive, compact, and vivid CJU^-f-fi [Comedy is superior to comic narra- tive] THE TRACT ATUS COISLINIANUS TRANSLATED [See above, pp. 10-15. The translation is mainly based upon the text of Kaibel, with use of the text and apparatus of Kayser. But I have discarded the schematic arrangement of the original, supplying such words as 'is divided into' in place of the oblique lines and horizontal braces which there indicate divisions and subdivisions under the various heads, and likewise adding appro- priate numerals and letters in parentheses.] Poetry is either (I) non-mimetic or (II) mimetic. (I) Non-mimetic poetry is divided into (A) histor- ical, (B) instructive. (B) Instructive poetry is divided into (1) didactic, (2) theoretical. (II) Mimetic poetry is divided into (A) narrative, (B) dramatic and [directly] presenting action. (B) Dra- matic poetry, or that - [directly] presenting action, is divided into (1) comedy,- (2) tragedy, (3) mimes, (4) satyr-dramas. Tragedy removes the fearful emotions of the soul through compassion and terror. And [he says] that it aims at having a due proportion of fear. It has grief for its mother. Comedy is an imitation of an action that is ludicrous and imperfect, of sufficient length, [in embellished language,] the several Icinds [of embellishment being] separately [found] in the [several] parts [of the play] ; [directly presented] by persons acting, and not [given] through narrative; through pleasure and' laughter effecting the purgation of the like emotions. It has laughter for its mother. • Laughter arises (I) from the diction [= expression] (II) from the things [= content]. THE TRACTATE TRANSLATED 225 (I) From the diction, through the use of— (A) Homonyms (B) Synonyms (C) Garrulity (D) Paronyms, formed by (?i) addition and ( ? 2) clipping (E) Diminutives (F) Perversion (1) by the voice (2) by other means of the same sort (G) Grammar and syntax (II) Laughter is caused by the things — (A) From assimilation, employed (1) toward the worse (2) toward the better (B) From deception (C) From the impossible (D) From the possible and inconsequent (E) From the unexpected (F) From debasing the" personages (G) From the use of/ clownish (pantomimic) dancing (H) When one of those having power, neg- lecting the greatest things, takes the most worthless (I) When the story is_ disjointed, and has no sequence Comedy differs from abuse, since abuse openly cen- sures the bad qualities attaching [to men], whereas comedy requires the so-called emphasis [? or 'in- nuendo ']. The joker will make game of faults in the soul and in the body. P 226 THE TRACTATE TRANSLATED As in tragedies there should be a due proportion of fear, so in comedies thereshould be a due proportion of laughter. The substance of comedy consists of (i) plot, (2) ethos, (3) dianoia, (4) diction, (5) melody, (6) spectacle. The comic plot is the structure binding together the ludicrous incidents. The characters [ethe] of comedy are (1) the buffoon- ish, (2) the ironical, and (3) those of the impostors. The parts of dianoia are two : (A) opinion and (B) proof. [Proofs (or ' persuasions ') are of] five [sorts] : (1) oaths, (2) compacts, (3) testimonies, (4) tortures [' tests ' or ' ordeals '], (5) laws. The diction of comedy is the common, popular lan- guage. The comic poet must endow his personages with his own native idiom, but must endow an alien with the alien idiom. Melody is the province of the art of music, and hence one must take its fundamental rules from that art. Spectacle is of great advantage to dramas in supply- ing what is in concord with them. Plot, diction, and melody are found in all comedies, dianoia, ethos, and spectacle in few. The [quantitative] parts of comedy are four : (1) pro- logue, (2) the choral part, (3) episode, (4) exode. The prologue is that portion of a comedy extending as far as the entrance of the chorus. The choral part [chori- con] is a song by the chorus when it [the song] is of adequate length. An episode is what lies between two choral songs. The exode is the utterance of the chorus at the end. The kinds of comedy are : (1) Old, with a superabun- dance of the laughable; (2) Ne^\^jffihich_disregards laughter, and tends toward the serious; (3) Middle, which is a mixture of the two. THE TRACT ATUS COISLINIANUS AMPLIFIED AND ILLUSTRATED [For the sake of clearness it has seemed better first (above, pp. 224-6) to give a rendering of the succinct Tractate by it- self, and then to repeat that rendering, as follows, with inter- larded comment and illustration.] Poetry is either (I) non-mimetic or (II) mimetic, mm* of [In the Poetics such a thing as ' non-mimetic ' poetry is not recognized; there poetry is regarded as in its nature mimetic, and versified history, or medicine, or the like, is excluded from the realm of poetry ; yet see above, p. 12.] (I) Non-mimetic poetry is divided into (A) histor- Non-mimetic ical, (B) instructive. [(A) Historical poetry finds illustration in the poem of Choerilus on the Persian war (see Aristotle, Rhetoric 3. 14, and compare above, p. 141) ; in the Pharsalia of Lucan ; and in Samuel Daniel's The Civil Wars between the two Houses of Lancaster and York."] (B) Instructive [roaSsurun/j] poetry is divided into (1) didactic [&cpY)Y7)T»aj]" (2) theoretical. [In a com- prehensive scheme of Greek poetry room would be found for Hesiod ; the Theogony is perhaps ' theoretical,' and the Works and Days ' didactic' Other examples of didactic poetry would be the lines from Scion quoted in Aristotle's Constitution of Athens and Aristotle's own scolion on virtue (compare above, pp. 12—13), and Wordsworth's Ode to Duty. Other examples of theoret- ical poetry would be Parmenides' On Nature, and similar cosmological poems of the pre-Socratic philos- ophers ; also the poem of Lucretius, and Erasmus Darwin's The Botanic Garden. In Poetics 1. I447 b 16-20 Empedocles is said to be a ' physicist rather than a poet ' ; in 21. I457 b 24, and elsewhere, he is cited in illustration of details in the theory of poetry !] pa 228 THE TRACTATE ILLUSTRATED (II) Mimetic poetry is divided into (A) narrative [as the Odyssey], (B) dramatic and [directly] presenting action. (B) Dramatic poetry, or that [directly] pre- senting action, is divided into (i) comedy [as the Birds of Aristophanes], (2) tragedy [as Sophocles' Oedipus the King], (3) mimes [as the mimes of Sophron and Xenarchus (see above, pp. 168—70)], (4) satyr-dramas [as the lost Phorcides of Aeschylus (see Poetics 18), the partly-preserved Ichneutae (Trackers) of Sophocles, and the Cyclops of Euripides (translated by Shelley)]. Tragedy removes the fearful emotions [ ,hlnBS elude mental acts as well as physical. There is necessa- rily some overlapping between the two main categories of words (= expression) and things (= content), as there is overlapping between the sub-heads under each. For a tripartite division by Aristotle of the sources of laughter, see above, pp. 62, 138.] (I) Laughter arises from the diction [l£Sicl through Diction: x ' ° l •a «j ° (A) homonyms the use of — (A) Homonyms. [That is, equivoca, or ambiguities. Things having the same name, but in themselves distinct, are homonymous. Thus, in the comedy of Aristophanes the changes are rung upon Ulouzoi;, the god, and %kouzo<;, wealth. So ' Iris ' (' iris ') may refer to (1) the messenger of the gods, (2) the rainbow, (3) a halo (round the moon or round a candle), (4) the flower. ' Spring ' has more than one meaning in En- glish, as in the remark of the tramp to the tourist : ' Speaking of bathing in famous springs, I bathed in the spring of '86.' Compare the following : ' Old Gaunt indeed, and gaunt in being old ' (Richard II 2. 1. 74). ' I will get Peter Quince to write a ballad of this dream ; it shall be called Bottom's Dream, because it hath no bottom ' (MND. 4. 1. 215-7). Falstaff : ' Their points being broken — ' Poins : ' Down fell their hose ' (x Henry IV 2. 4. 216—7). — ' Points ' here has the two meanings of sword-points and the tagged lace for attaching the hose to the doublet. The use of equi- voca is, of course, very frequent in the comedy of every age. Thus the envoys from Persia, in Achamians 91-^z, ' come, bringing Pseudartabas, " the King's Eye " ' ; and Dicaeopolis on hearing the title rejoins : 'Would that a crow might peck it out, and yours, too, the ambassador's ' (92—3). See also the various turns on the word %6Xo<; in Birds 179—84, and again on opvis in Birds 719—21 (Rogers' trans- lation) : 230 THE TRACTATE ILLUSTRATED And whene'er you of omen or augury speak, 't is a bird you are always repeating; A rumor's a bird, and a sneeze is a bird, and so is a word or a meeting, A servant 's a bird, and an ass is a bird. The number of meanings a given word (e. g., bow) may have is, therefore, not necessarily restricted to two, especially if, as in English, we include all the meanings indicated by the same sound (how, bough). ' Equiv- ocal terms,' says Aristotle, in Rhetoric 3. 2 (see above, p. 144), ' are the class of words most useful to the sophist, for it is with the help of these that he juggles.' The comic poet also juggles with them.] (B) Synonyms. [The interpretation is obvious. In the passage last quoted Aristotle continues : ' Syno- nyms are most useful to the poet. By synonyms in ordinary use I mean, for instance, "to go " and " to walk " ; these are at once accepted and synonymous terms.' Different terms applied to the same thing, then, are synonymous — as go, fare, proceed. So one may call the same act ' stealing ' or ' conveying.' ' " Convey " the wise it call. " Steal " ! foh ! a fico for the phrase ! ' {Merry Wives 1. 3. 30). The comic poet has the option of calling the worse thing by the better name, or the better thing by the worse name. By the use of metaphor, the number of names applied to the same thing may be indefinitely extended. As Aristotle points out (Rhetoric 3. 2), Dionysius ' the Brazen ' in his elegies called poetry ' Calliope's screech ' — poetry and screeching being both of them ' voices ' ; and Simonides (ibid. ; see above, p. 155), when asked to compose an ode in honor of a victory in the mule-race, at first refused to write about ' half -asses,' and then, when a larger fee was offered, wrote : Hail, daughters of storm-footed mares — ' yet they were equally daughters of the asses.' Simi- larly, hands may be called 'pickers and stealers ' (Hamlet 3. 2. 340). Or take the following expressions for late and early : ' One that converses more with the buttock of the night than with the forehead of the morning ' (Coriolanus 2.1. 53-5). Or take the case when Euelpides DICTION: GARRULITY 231 wishes to kiss the Nightingale, and Peisthetaerus warns him (Birds 672) : ' O wretched fool, her beak has two little spits ' (mandibles). Starkie (Hermathena 42. 30-1) gives examples from Shakespeare and Moliere, and notes the fertility of Rabelais in strings of depre- ciatory synonyms — for example, the epithets addressed to monks in the inscription over the entrance to the convent of Thelema.] (C) Garrulity. [This is $&ols<7yix, a staple device Diction: of comic writers, to which Socrates makes allusion in (C> **" um the Apology and Phaedo (see above, pp. 104-5) • Aristotle refers to dfooleayix, but not in connection with comedy (see above, p. 144 ; and compare Rhetoric 2. 13. 1390*9, 2. 22. I395 b 26, Nicomachean Ethics 3. 13. ni7 b 35, De Sophisticis Elenchis 3. 1651315, Problems 18. 8.9i7 b 4, Historia Animalium 11. 492 b 2). The simplest case is the repetition of the same word over and over again (see Tzetzes, below, p. 288), but the term embraces ver- bosity of every sort — bombast, triviality, learned nonsense (in the philosophical discussions of the Clouds, in Swift's Voyage to Laputa, in Les Femmes Savantes of Mcliere), the garrulity of age, of children and the childish, of the idle, of clowns, domestics, and the like. Dogberry is ' garrulous ' in the pompous style. The pettifoggers and quacks of Moliere are ' garrulous ' ; in Le Malade Imaginaire the first speech of the Hypo- chondriac is an instance, the harangue of Monsieur Diafoirus in 2. 6 is another, and the address of his son Thomas to Angelique (quoted below, pp. 242—3, under ' assimilation ') yet another. Thomas is twice foiled (ibid. 2. 6, 7) in a long-winded memorized address intended for her step-mother. The choruses in the Achamians and the Wasps indulge in garrulity; for example (Wasps 233—9) : ' O Strymodore of Conthyle, best of our crew of dicasts, has Euergides appeared, or Chabes of Phlya ? Ah, here you are, alas and alack ! all that yet remains of that youth so flourishing then when we kept the watch together, you and I, in Byzan- tium. Remember how, as we paced our round by night, we found and filched the baker's tray, and chopped it up 232 THE TRACTATE ILLUSTRATED to cook our pimpernel withal.' It would be easy to multiply examples, as from Shakespeare (Measure for Measure 2. 1. 89—105) : Pompey : ' Sir, she came in, great with child, and longing — saving your honor's reverence — for stewed prunes. Sir, we had but two in the house, which at that very distant time stood, as it were, in a fruit-dish, a dish of some three-pence ; your honors have seen such dishes; they are not China dishes, but very good dishes.' Escalus : ' Go to, go to ; no matter for the dish, sir.' Pompey : ' No indeed, sir, not of a pin. You are therein in the right. But to the point : as I say, this Mistress Elbow, being, as I say, with child, and being great-bellied, and longing, as I said, for prunes, and having but two in the dish, as I said, Master Froth here, this very man, having eaten the rest, as I said, and, as I say, paying for them very honestly ; for, as you know, Master Froth, I could not give you three-pence again.' Another good case is that of Launce in Two Gentlemen of Verona 2. 3. 21—33. The chorus in Aristophanes' Birds is likewise talkative ; see their ' anapaests ' (684 ff .) — above all, their account of the creation and of their own importance in the affairs of men (Birds 693—722) . Parodies and travesties are likely to be of the same windy nature ; thus, the monody uttered by Aeschylus in the Frogs in imitation of Euripides (Frogs 1331—63), beginning (Rogers' trans- lation) : O darkly-light mysterious Night, What may this Vision mean, Sent from the world unseen With baleful omens rife ; A thing of lifeless life, A child of sable night, A ghastly curdling sight, In black funereal veils, With murder, murder in its eyes. And great enormous nails ? Many passages of garrulity, as the last-quoted, betray a lack of sequence, which in itself may be a source of laughter, and is so listed in the Tractate (see below, p. 257). But long-winded speeches afford opportunity for various sorts of comic effect, and hence contain DICTION: PARONYMS 233 illustrations of other categories. The long anapaestic chorus of the Birds has already been cited for an ex- ample of homonyms : ' A rumor 's a bird, and a sneeze is a bird, and so is a word or a meeting ' {Birds 720).] (D) Paronyms. They are formed (1) by adding to a word, and (2) by taking something away from it. [Or the sense may be that they are formed by first dropping some part of a word and then adding something to what remains. A paronym is, so to speak, a name lying at the side of another. In each case, two words are concerned, one of them being derived from the other, generally by a change of termination. The relation may be a true one according to scientific principles. Or it may be a fancied one according to popular notions of etymology — as in the time of Aristophanes, before the advent of strict linguistic science'. Or it may be a pretended one based upon an assumed principle. Thus Hermippus (frg. 4, Kock 1. 225—6) derives the rolling ' year ' (Ivtauirog), which contains all within itself, from iv a&Tfii. Similar derivatives are common in everyday speech while a language is in the making. In comedy they are extempore formations, or else for- mations otherwise rare in the language. In a given instance it may be difficult to say whether the word is a coinage of the poet, or a term, not previously recorded, from common usage. If the reading ' great oneyers ' is authentic, a paronym formed by addition is found in Gadshill's ' I am joined with no foot-land-rakers, no long-staff sixpenny strikers, none of these mad musta- chio-purple-hued malt-worms, but with nobility and tranquillity, burgomasters and great oneyers ' (1 Hen- ry IV 2. 1. 76—9). So also (from atj-rog, by dropping g and adding -toto?) afkoTa-rog in Plutus 83 : ' Are you really he} ' ' I am.' ' Himself ? ' 'His own self's self.' Here too, perhaps, belongs TtuvTOTaxog — ' the most shameless (most doglike) of all ' (see above, pp. 29, 150). In a comic compound epithet, if we take the first element as a base, the whole may be regarded as a paronym derived from it. Those of Gadshill (as ' long-staff sixpenny strikers ' and ' mad mustachio- 234 THE TRACTATE ILLUSTRATED purple-hued malt-worms '), formed by addition, may be compared with Aristophanes' (jalrayYo^oyxu^vaBai, <7apKaffnomTuoji<£pcTai (Frog's 966) : ' Great long-beard- lance-and-trumpet-men, flesh-tearers with the pine' (cf. Starkie, Hermathena 42. 33 ; and compare above, p. 212). Starkie (Achamians, pp. xlix— liv) gives nine subdivisions under the head of Paronymy : (1) com- pounds ; (2) coinages to suit special occasions ; (3) joc- ular feminine forms; (4) comic comparatives and superlatives (as afcozxtos) ; (5) character-names with diverse terminations (asxdcvQwv in Peace 82) ; (6) verbal formations (as Xu8i£ew in Knights 523) ; (7) comic adverbs (as [iaysipww? in Achamians 1015) ; (8) imi- tative words and phrases (as the mimic notes of birds, frogs, and musical instruments) ; (9) certain comic ex- clamations, mostly imitative. But the device, strictly considered, seems to involve a stem of some word in regular usage; the customary termination of the word may be dropped, and then something may be added. Or again, it would seem, something may be clipped from the end ( ? or beginning, or middle) of a word, so that the resultant coinage is shorter than the ordinary word. This last case apparently is hard to find in comedy, save as comedy makes use of ordinary colloquial con- tractions ; compare also Gib (for Gilbert) and Daw (for David) in the Towneley Secunda Pastorum. It would simplify matters could we reverse the order of the Tractate under this category, and say, ' paronymy by subtraction and addition,' since commonly the familiar ending of a word is dropped, and an unusual ending then supplied — as in the proverbial jocular derivation ot Middleton from Moses : you take away the termination -oses, and add the termination -iddleton. So the Hostess in Henry V 2. 3. 10 shortens A braham to Arthur, saying of the dead Falstaff : ' Nay, sure, he 's not in hell ; he 's in Arthur's bosom, if ever any man went to Arthur's bosom.' Middleton from Moses, and Arthur from Abraham, recall the example of paronymy preserved by Tzetzes (see below, p. 288), ' I Momax am called Midas ' (which has disturbed textual critics) ; they will perhaps illustrate the case of proper names derived DICTION: DIMINUTIVES 235 one from another by clipping or addition or both, though they trench upon the field of comic perversions (see below, under F). The categories of paronyms and perversion overlap, since a perversion often contains some considerable part of the word it travesties.] (E) Diminutives. [These, of course, are usually deriv- Diction: atives. Aristotle has defined and illustrated them in minutives Rhetoric 3. 2 (see above, pp. 29, 156) : ' Again, without abandoning a given epithet, one may turn it into a diminutive. By a diminutive I mean a form that lessens either the good or the bad in a description ; for example, the banter of Aristophanes in the Babylonians, where he uses " coinlet " for coin, " cloaklet " for cloak, " gibelet " for gibe, and " plaguelet." ' Greek is rich in diminutives, as is also Italian — much more so than English, which in this point lags behind German ; Starkie (Acharnians, pp. Iv— lvi) lists thirteen such endings in Aristophanes, with many examples (mostly under -tov, -iB-iov, -apiov, and -i Zsu Bs (3Bsu (Lat. peditum) SsVrcoTa. Bentley would identify the passage with the end of line 940 in the Lysistrata ; but the joke would be more pat in one or another of the passages containing %> Zsu pauAeO — as Clouds 2, or Birds 223 — and we need not stickle for the accuracy of the tra- dition that gives the relatively unimportant word Bgffjrara. We find a rather good English parallel in Henry V 4. 4. 4—8, where Pistol captures the French soldier. Pistol : ' Art thou a gentleman ? What is thy name ? Discuss.' French Soldier : ' O Seigneur Dieu ! ' Pistol : ' O Signieur Dew should be a gentle- man. Perpend my words, O Signieur Dew, and mark.' The laughable through perversion by the voice and similar means would therefore include many puns — though not those arising from the confusion of things having names exactly alike. Thus Falstaff in 1 Henry IV 2. 4. 241—2 : ' If reasons (' raisins ') were as plenty as blackberries, I would give no man a reason upon compulsion, I.' Or take the unconscious pun DICTION: PERVERSION, GRAMMAR 237 uttered by the illiterate maid-servant Martine to the purist Belise in Les Femmes Savantes 2. 6. 64—5. B61ise : ' Veux-tu toute ta vie offenser la grammaire ? ' Mar- tine : ' Qui parle d'offenser grand'mere ni grand-pere ? ' But the category embraces all sorts of perversions in diction, from Fluellen's Welsh pronunciation of ' Alex- ander the Pig ' (Henry V 4. 7. 12-18 — ' The pig, or the great, or the mighty, or the huge, or the magnani- mous, are all one reckonings, save the phrase is a little variations ') to Alcibiades ' lisp (Wasps 42—6, esp. 45 — ' Theolus ' for Theorus). Add the Hostess' ' vari- ation ' on the death of Falstaff : ' A' made a finer end and went away an it had been any christom child ' (Henry V 2. 3. 11— 12 — a perversion of Christian and chrism together). There is a succession of instances during the preparations for their play by the artisans in A Midsummer-Night's Dream : ' Phibbus' ' for Phoebus' (MND. 1. 2. 3) ; ' Thisne ' for Thisby (1. 2. 51—3 — but the case is also one of diminutives : ' I'll speak in a monstrous little voice, " Thisne, Thisne!"'); 'Saying thus, or to the same defect' (3. 1. 38 — ' defect ' = effect) ; ' He comes to disfigure, or to present, the person of Moonshine ' (3. 1. 57—8) ; ' I will aggravate my voice so that I will roar you as gently as any sucking dove ' (2.1. 80—1) . Again, Bottom : ' Thisby, the flowers have odious savors sweet ' — Quince : ' Odorous, odorous.' Bottom : — ' odors savors sweet' (3. 1. 79— 81). Finally, Quince: 'And he is a very paramour for a sweet voice.' Flute: ' You must say " paragon " ; a paramour is, God bless us! a thing of naught ' (4. 2. 11— 14).] (G) Grammar and syntax. [So I paraphrase affiy.ai. Diction: \i%zt;, which covers not only the grammatical and syn- and syntax tactical relations of discourse, but also the rhythm and cadence of a sentence — the arrangement of the diction in a general sense. Laughter arises from inflections and syntax formed on a spurious analogy with correct usage. In ordinary speech such forms are barbarisms ; and taken from the usage of illiterates they may serve a comic purpose. The luckless Martine has offended 238 THE TRACTATE ILLUSTRATED B61ise by the ' solecisme horrible ' : ' Mon Dieu ! je n'avons pas 6tugue" (= ' etudie" ') comme vous, Et je parlons tout droit comme on parle cheux ( = ' chez ') nous.' Belise : ' Ton esprit, je l'avoue, est bien ma- teriel : Je n'est qu'un singulier, avons est pluriel. Veux- tu, toute ta vie offenser la grammaire? ' (Femmes Savantes 2. 6. 58—9, 62—4). Similarly Lucas uses the illiterate form j'avons in Le Midecin Malgre Lui 1. 6. However, the comic poet outdoes ordinary illiterate usage (though often through the speech of rustics, servants, and the like) in producing spurious grammat- ical forms and false congruities. Compare Toinette (disguised as a physician) in Le Malade Imaginaire 3. 14 : ' Ignoranius, ignoranta, ignorantum.' Or com- pare the Latin in Calverley's The Cock and the Bull (below, p. 258) with that of Sganarelle in Le Medecin Malgre Lui 26:' Quia substantivo, et adjectivum, con- cordat in generi, numerum, et casus.' Calverley's skit, in burlesque imitation of The Ring and the Book, makes use of Browning's ax^H-* ^sw? (even in the cadence of the title) for comic effect. In Two Gentlemen of Verona 2. 5. 25—33 Shakespeare gives the following. Speed : ' What an ass art thou ! I understand thee not.' Launce : ' What a block art thou, that thou canst not. My staff understands me.' Speed : ' What thou sayest ?' Launce : ' Ay, and what I do, too. Look thee, I '11 but lean, and my staff understands me.' Speed: 'It stands under thee, indeed.' Launce : ' Why, stand- under and understand is all one.' Of this order is the youthful Porson's answer to the question, whether Brutus did right in assassinating Caesar : ' Non bene fecit, nee male fecit; sed inter-fecit.' It is often difficult, sometimes impossible, to translate pleasant- ries of this type ; perhaps one may partly succeed with the dialogue between Euripides and his stupid kinsman in Thesmophoriazusae 26—8. Euripides : ' See this wicket ? ' Mnesilochus : ' By Heck ! should think I did.' Euripides : ' Now silence, you ! ' Mnesilochus : ' I silence the wicket ? ' Euripides : ' Hark ! ' Mnesil- ochus : ' I hark-and-silence the wicket ? ' In the Clouds, as Starkie notes, the old peasant learns from things: assimilation 239 Socrates not to confuse ocT.eytirpijwv (' rooster ') and i&exTpuaiva (' roostress '), and discovers that the correct form ■?) KapSoTO? is not correct at all — it should be ■?) xapBoxif) (Clouds 850—2, 669—75, 1251 — compare Starkie's rendering, ' kneading-jack ' and ' kneading- jill '). The category of false grammar overlaps with that of perversion ; see ' paramour ' and ' paragon ' at the end of the preceding paragraph, and perhaps Mistress Quickly's ' thou bastardly rogue ' (2 Henry IV 2. I. 51, — ?' bastardly ' = dastardly). In parodies (see below, pp. 258— 9), the individual style of the author parodied — his pet forms and constructions — will become the standard which the comic writer travesties ; so it is in The Cock and the Bull, and in the samples offered by Euripides and Aeschylus of their own and each other's wares in the Frogs. For the expression jx, Ti^sws in Aristotle's Rhetoric see above, P- I45-] (II) Laughter arises from the things. V Things ' Laughter , » • , , •, , ■ • 1 " -i / ,rom thln o & (i:p&fpjx'Z(x) include acts and objects in themselves (as distinct from their names, which belong under ' diction ' = X£?is), and persons in themselves (again as distinct from their names), regarded objectively. ' Things ' are, above all, things done, that is, deeds and activities, including the acts and experiences of the mind. But it is hard to dissociate a thing from its name, and hence, as we have observed, a particular example of the ludi- crous may sometimes be classified under more than one head and sub-head. If a garrulous person, for instance, uses the same word over and over, he will keep talking about the same object — as prunes. In general, however, we have this distinction : if the humor dis- appears when the joke is translated (as in Porson's joke on Brutus and Caesar), we have to do with ' laughter from the diction ' ; if not, then with ' laughter from the things.' Yet a shrewd translator will often be sur- prisingly close to the foreign language in his rendering of ' laughter from the diction.'] (A) From assimilation. The assimilation may be ™Zm\m 240 THE TRACTATE ILLUSTRATED (i) of what is better (superior) to what is worse (inferior), or (2) vice versa. Assimilation (1) Assimilation or equation of what is better to to the worse ' . . what is worse. [Tzetzes (below, p. 289) gives as an instance of (1) the transformation of the master Dio- nysus into the slave Xanthias (Frogs 494—502) ; and we may add the assimilation of Xanthias himself to a beast of burden (ibid. 9—20, 32). Since comedy in general tends to represent things as worse than they commonly are, the principle of assimilation can be freely illustrated from the basic ideas of many plays. Thus men (super- ior) are assimilated to birds (inferior), to frogs, and to wasps, in the respective comedies of Aristophanes, and to the denizens of the farmyard in Rostand's Chantecler. In like manner Swift assimilates men to pygmies, to heavy giants, to horses, to apes. The method also reaches to detail ; so that, as Starkie remarks (Acharnians, p. Ixii), so long as they represent xp«y[ji«Ta, and not merely "k£%<4, comparisons, metaphors, and even epi- thets, come under this head or that of (2) assimilation to the better. The Platonic Socrates' comparison of the State to a sluggish horse, and of himself to a gadfly sent to arouse it (Apology 30, 31), is a case in point; of the same order are Alcibiades' comparisons of Socrates to the busts of Silenus, to Marsyas the satyr, and to a brent-goose (the last taken from Aristophanes — see above, p. 113), in Symposium 215, 216, 221. So the following from Shakespeare. Boy (speaking of Falstaff) : * He is very sick, and would to bed. Good Bardolph, put thy face between his sheets, and do the office of a warming-pan ' (Henry V 2. 1. 83—5). Prince : ' How now, wool-sack ! What mutter you ? ' Fal- staff : ' A king's son. If I do not beat thee out of thy kingdom with a dagger of lath, and drive all thy sub- jects afore thee like a flock of wild geese, I '11 never wear hair on my face more ' (1 Henry IV 2. 4. 136-40). Falstaff : * 'Sblood, you starveling, you elf-skin, you dried neat's-tongue, you bull's pizzle, you stock- fish! O ! for breath to utter what is like thee ; you tailor's yard, you sheath, you bow case, you vile standing tuck ' THINGS : ASSIMILATION 241 (ibid. 2. 4. 246-50). Other examples from Aristophanes are the following. In the * thinking-house ' of Socrates dwell the men who ' teach and persuade us that heaven is a muffle enveloping us, and that we are the charcoal within ' (Clouds 94—7 — comparison with an oven) ; Brasidas and Cleon are the ' pestle ' and ' mortar ' of Sparta and Athens (Peace 259 ff.) ; Euelpides looks like a gander done by a penny-artist (Birds 803-6). Euelpides : ' What are you laughing at ? ' Peisthe- taerus : ' At your long wing-feathers. Do you know what you are like, your wings and you ? Just like a gander in a cheap sketch.' Euelpides: ' And you like a bald-headed blackbird.' Here, too, may be noticed the ' Dionysus, son of — Wine-jar,' in Frogs 22, where the epithet we anticipate is son of Zeus or the like ; the assimilation to ' wine-jar ' may therefore be classi- fied also under ' the unexpected ' (see below, p. 250). The hint from Tzetzes (above) suggests that many comic transformations and disguises fall under the present head of assimilation to the better or the worse. The ' translated ' Bottom, ' with an ass's head ' (MND. 3. 1), belongs in this category as well as in that of ' the impossible ' (below, p. 244). The interchange of master and servant, the disguise of lovers as menials so as to obtain entrance into the house of the beloved, and sim- ilar devices of the New Greek Comedy and its suc- cessors, hardly need to be mentioned; we immediately think of Valere finding employment in the house- hold of Harpagon in L'Avare, Leandre as an apothecary assisting Sganarelle in Le Medecin Malgri Lui, etc.] (2) Assimilation or equation of what is worse to what Assimilation • ,, n > • , ■ 1 t0 the bMer is better. [Tzetzes (below, p. 289) gives as the other side of his instance the transformation of the slave Xan- thias into his master Dionysus (Frogs 494 ff.). This amounts to an assimilation of Xanthias to Heracles (see ibid. 499), and brings to mind the similar equation of the unheroic Dionysus to Heracles earlier in the play (ibid. 40 ff., 108 ff.). The principle involved has a general value for comedy. It may serve to bring out a ludicrous contrast in which ' the worse ' gains nothing q 242 THE TRACTATE ILLUSTRATED from its ostensible approximation to ' the better ' ; so in the examples just given, and in the case of Bottom, who, after his metamorphosis, is called ' angel ' and ' gentleman ' by Titania (MND. 3. 1. 126, 161). Or it may serve to elevate or soften what is too low or painful for comedy, to the right comic degree of inferi- ority that gives no pain. In the Birds, some of the qualities taken on by men are those in which winged creatures excel all human beings, as Ariel, in The Tempest, excels them ; the approximation in plumage, color, song, and flight, helps in the embellishment of the play. And particular comparisons may be, not odious, but complimentary. Yet in the main the equation of the worse to the better in comedy is ludicrous, and the compliments are ironical. ' Thou art as wise as thou art beautiful,' says the enchanted Titania to the trans- formed Bottom with his decoration (MND. 3. 1. 145). The assimilation of Sganarelle to a great physician in Le Medecin Malgre Lui lends but a mock-dignity to that jocular rustic. The elevation of Sly in The Tam- ing of the Shrew does not ennoble him. And servants disguised as masters become only the more ridiculous. In the way of detail, Starkie (Acharnians, p. lxii) adds the following examples. Strepsiades compares the loss of his shoes with the squandering of State funds by Pericles — on ' the service ' (Clouds 858-^9) ; the huge dung-beetle on which Trygaeus will fly up to Zeus is identified with the winged Pegasus of Beller- ophon (Peace 73-89) ; the wall built by the birds for :Cloudcuckootown is twice as high as the famous wall of Babylon, and on its top chariots could drive and pass with horses as big as the Wooden Horse that caused the fall of Troy (Birds 552, 1124-9). Compare also the garrulous Euphuistic elaborations of the Physiologus noted by Starkie (Hermathena 42. 36—7) in Shakespeare and Moliere. Falstaff : ' For, though the camomile, the more it is trodden on, the faster it grows, yet youth, the more it is wasted, the sooner it wears' (1 Henry IV 2. 4. 408 — 10). Thomas Diafoirus (to Angelique) : ' Ma- demoiselle, ne plus ne moins que le statue de Memnon rendait un son harmonieux lorsqu'elle venait a dfre THINGS: DECEPTION 243 eclairee des rayons du soldi, tout de m&ne me sens-je anime d'un doux transport a 1'apparition du soleil de vos beautes; et, comme les naturalistes remarquent que la fleur nommee heliotrope toume sans cesse vers cet astre du jour, aussi mon coeur dores-en-avant tournera-t-il toujours vers les astres resplendissants de vos yeux adorables, ainsi que vers son pole unique ' (Malade Imaginaire 2. 6).] (B) From deception. [This category overlaps with Things: that of (E) ' the unexpected,' since every ludicrous ac- ' BC8p,l0n cident to which an author carefully leads up with a view to surprising us into laughter has the nature of a decep- tion ; and similarly the outcome of deception is unex- pected. Deception may be said to govern the plot of the Birds, which is an elaborate lie (Men are birds); the poet cheats us into accepting the falsehood through a gradual, yet swift, transition from what is more cred- ible to what is less, and through an accumulation of circumstances that would result if the primary assump- tion were true. Similarly in the Frogs the poet cheats us into expecting that Dionysus will bring back Eurip- ides, and by a sudden turn at the end makes him bring back Aeschylus instead. Still, we must differentiate between surprise and deception, as also between laughter arising from deception in regard to things and the deception illustrated by j ests on words. Aristotle speaks of the deceptive element in verbal jests such as are pro- duced by an unexpected change of a letter (see above, p. 146) ; but this appertains to l£tu;. In the same connec- tion, however, he gives an example of a jocular deception involving 7tpay[wcTuxi are rare in his extant plays. But the thing, the compact, is frequent enough in him (see below, pp. 271—2).] (A? "o°inion ^ Opinion. [All thought consists of more general, and less general, operations of the mind ; the mind is COMIC 'OPINIONS' 267 constantly passing from one kind of thought to the other in either direction ; but, logically, we advance in a play from particulars to conclusions. One might therefore begin a study of comic dianoia by examining the first few lines of the Birds, where Euelpides and Peisthetaerus consult a crow and a jackdaw (' wit- nesses,' perhaps) as guides in their quest ; here is an example of raH]) with Peisthetaerus {Birds 439, 444-7). Chorus : ' I make the compact ' (Bia-rcOspit) . Peisthetaerus: 'Now swear these things to me.' Chorus: ' I swear (opuji') on these terms : so may I win the prize by the vote of all the judges and all the spectators.' Peisthetaerus : ' So be it ! ' Chorus : ' And if I break the compact, so may I win by but a single vote.' It is readily seen that several forms of proof or persuasion may be used conjointly. In Lysistrata 183 if., the women make a compact to abstain from all relations with the men until the men effect a peace betwen Athens and Sparta, and they take an oath to carry out this plan of the heroine ; the question comes up again in the attempt of Cinesias to woo his wife Myrrhina, which is in the nature of a ' test ' or ' ordeal ' ; in repulsing her husband the wife cites the ' oath ' {ibid. 914) — and her argument is successful. The preceding are formal oaths. As to the more general sense (swearing by Apollo, Zeus, Heracles, Poseidon, and the like), it is clear that the mental processes of speakers in Aristophanic comedy are often displayed in such forms of expression. Since comedy employs a popular diction, it contains more of them than does the elevated language of tragedy. It also contains strange and unexpected oaths ; compare Jonson's Bobadil {Every Man in his Humor 2. 2. 2-3) : ' Speak to him ? Away ! By the foot of Pharaoh, you shall not ; you shall not do him that grace ! ' Or take the case of Falstaff enforcing his assertion regarding the men who deprived him of his booty. Falstaff : ' These four came all a-front, and mainly thrust at me. I made me no more ado but took all their seven points in my target, thus.' Prince: 'Seven? Why, there were but four even now.' Falstaff : ' In buckram.' Poins : ' Ay, four, in buckram suits.' Falstaff : ' Seven, by these hilts, or I am a villain else ' (j Henry IV 2. 4. 202—8). Compare also the oaths of Bob Acres in Sheri- COMIC 'PERSUASIONS': COMPACTS 271 dan (Rivals 2. 1. 172-3, 190-1, 213-4) : ' Odd's whips and wheels ! I 've traveled like a comet ' ; ' Odd's blushes and blooms ! She has been as healthy as the German Spa ' ; ' Merry ! Odd's crickets ! She has been the belle and spirit of the company wherever she has been.' In the closing ceremony of Le Malade Imaginaire the Bachelierus undergoes a ' test ' or ' ordeal ' which he successfully passes by giving satis- factory ' opinions ' ; finally he is called upon to swear, formally, and thrice, that he will maintain the estab- lished traditions of medicine, no matter what the outcome for the patient. Grimarest avers that Mo- liere, who acted the part of the Bachelierus, had the fatal seizure leading to his death, at the very moment of pronouncing the word 'Juro.' This ' oath ' is followed by a ' compact ' ratified by the Praeses.] (2) Compacts. [The term o-uv6t]xy) (' compact,' ' trea- 'Persuasions' ,\ 1 1 * (2) compacts ty ) occurs but twice in the extant plays of Aris- tophanes (both times in the plural), namely, in Lysis- trata 1268 and Peace 1065, in each case referring to the conclusion of peace between Athens and Sparta which is the desideratum in these comedies. The word is not used to indicate those compacts which often exer- cise the intellect (dianoia) of some chief personage in a comedy, about which not a little of the discussion revolves, and to which the Tractate doubtless alludes. Once (out of three occurrences), BikGyjxy) is used in this sense — as we have seen, in Birds 439, where the trea- ty with Peisthetaerus is on the point of being ratified by the chorus. The poet's liking for the notion, how- ever, is shown by his frequent use of ottovByj (' libation ') and CTtovSaC (' treaty '). No reader of the Acharnians, Lysistrata, and Peace needs a reminder of Aristophanes' preoccupation with treaties of peace. As for the Tractate, we may suppose that ' compact,' like other technical terms, has both a more general, and a more special, application. The general sense is exemplified by the three plays just mentioned. And, to judge from the illustrations, both general and special, dianoia is shown by persons of the drama in arguing for, as well 272 THE TRACTATE ILLUSTRATED as from, ' compacts ' ; we are here dealing, not with Rhetoric and an oration or legal argument, but with the tissue of life as represented on the comic stage — not merely with the citation of oaths, compacts, witnesses, ordeals, and laws from the past, but with the genesis and growth of such things before our eyes. Peisthe- taerus argues for the compact with the birds until it is ratified; it is then carried into action, and there- after he argues from it. The agreement to found Cloudcuckootown, accordingly, is an instance of the technical sort. Such, too, are the compact between the hero and the envoys from the gods at the climax of the play ; the compact between Praxagora and the other women in the Ecclesiazusae to assume the political activities of the men ; the compact between Lysistrata and her fellows to withhold themselves from relations with their husbands ; the compact between Chremylus and Wealth in the Plutus ; and (not to exhaust the examples from Aristophanes) the compact of Euripides in the Thesmophoriazusae never again to abuse women in his plays. Euripides (in the style of an enemy herald) : ' Ladies, if you will make a truce (otiovBcc?) with me, now and for evermore, I promise that hence- forward you shall never hear one evil word from me. Such are my terms.' Chorus : ' What is the object in proposing this ? ' Euripides : ' This poor old relative of mine, now fastened to the plank — if you will let me take him safe away, then nevermore will I traduce you. But if you will not yield to my persuasion, then what you do at home in secret will be my story to your husbands when they return from the campaign.' Chorus : ' As touching us, be it known to you that we are by you persuaded. As for this Scythian, do you yourself persuade him ' (Thesmophoriazusae 1160— 71). From Aristophanes and the Middle Comedy, the ' com- pact ' passed into Menander and the New, later re- appearing — for example, in theSelf -Tormentor of Terence — in agreements between a young man and a household slave to persuade or deceive a father, or the like ; it is related to the ' stratagems ' that are so frequently employed by the personages of Moliere — see, for COMIC 'PERSUASIONS': TESTIMONIES 273 example, those of Mascarille in L'Etourdi 1. 2, etc., re- peatedly devised for his master, and as often foiled by the latter's stupidity and ill luck. Modern examples of the ' compact ' are seen in the scheme for drawing Beatrice and Benedick from enmity into love (Much Ado 2. 1 ff .) ; and in the agreement between the Prince and Falstaff, Poins, Gadshill, and the others, to rob the travelers, and between the Prince and Poins to frighten Falstaff and the others from the booty (1 Henry IV 1.2). The language at one point (ibid. 1.2. 149—54) clearly evinces dianoia. Poins : ' Sir John, I prithee, leave the prince and me alone ; I will lay him down such reasons for this adventure that he shall go.' Falstaff : ' Well, God give thee the spirit of persuasion and him the ears of profit- ing, that what thou speakest may move, and what he hears may be believed.' See also the compact between Sganarelle as doctor and Leandre as apothecary, in Le Medecin Malgre Lui 2. 9 ; that between Beralde, Ange- lique, Cleante, and Toinette, in Le Malade Imaginaire 3. 23 ; and the elaborate scheme entered into by Julie, Eraste, Nerine, and Sbrigani, for the undoing of the hero, in Monsieur de Pourceaugnac 1. 3, 4. I will end this list of examples with a reference to Dekker's Satiro- mastix 5. 2. 297—393, in which Horace (= Ben Jonson) is forced to make a compact with his enemies something like the one Euripides makes with the women in the Thesmophoriazusae. It begins with a speech of Cris- pinus : ' Sir Vaughan, will you minister their oath ? ' Next we have the terms of the agreement. Sir Vaughan : ' You shall sweare not to bumbast out a new play with the olde lynings of jestes, stolne from the Temples Revels,' etc. ' Sweare all this, by Apollo and the eight or nine Muses.' Horace : ' By Apollo, Helicon, the Muses (who march three and three in a rancke), and by all that belongs to Pernassus, I swear all this.' Tucca : ' Beare witnes.' Under the present head we regard these schemes and compacts, not in relation to ' plot,' but in the light of dianoia — as exercising the reason of the agents, and as displayed in their uttered arguments.] (3) Testimonies. [In both lists of ' unartistic proofs' ■ persuasions' as given by Aristotle in the Rhetoric (see above, p. 265-6) (3) testimonies 274 THE TRACTATE ILLUSTRATED we have the word [juxp-ropss (' witnesses '). In the Tractate we have the abstract word [xocpirup£ai (' tes- timonies ' or ' witnessings '), which would include not only ' ancient ' and ' recent ' witnesses cited in an argument, but also the spontaneous offer of testimony by a character in a play as a means of persuasion, or even the clamor for it. Conrade : ' Away ! you are an ass ; you are an ass.' Dogberry : ' Dost thou not sus- pect my place ? Dost thou not suspect my years ? that he (Sexton) were here to write me down an ass ! But, masters, remember that I am an ass. . . . No, thou villain, thou art full of piety, as shall be proved upon thee by good witness. . . . Bring him away. O that 1 had been writ down an ass ! ' (Much Ado 4. 2. 74—88.) The personages of Aristophanes are much given to ' witnessing ' and ' calling to witness.' When Peisthetaerus maltreats the Inspector, the latter cries : ' I call to witness that I, an Inspector, am struck ! ' (Birds 1029—31.) In like manner, when Dionysus strips Xanthias of the lion-skin, the slave bawls out : ' I call to witness, and appeal to the gods ! ' (Frogs 526—9) ; but the ' persuasion ' is unavailing. Of the formal summons there is a good comic instance in Wasps 935 ff. (esp. 936—7), where Bdelycleon for the defence calls the kitchen-utensils that were present on the occasion of the alleged theft by Labes of the cheese. Bdelycleon : ' I summon the witnesses. Wit- nesses for Labes stand forth ! Bowl, Pestle, Cheese- grater, Brazier, Pipkin, and the other well-scorched vessels ! ' In Clouds 1221— 5, Pasias, desiring a repay- ment justly due him, summons Strepsiades, who, with a quibble, exclaims : ' I call to witness that he named two days ! ' The use of evidence by witness for pur- poses of discovery, persuasion, and the like, is illustrated in Moliere as follows. In Tartuffe 4. 4, 5, Orgon is placed in hiding so that he may observe the attempt of the dissembler upon Orgon's wife Elmire. In Le Malade Imaginaire 2. 11, Argan forces his little daughter Louison to bear witness as to the endearments that have passed between her sister and Cleante, the evidence being given after ' torture ' ; and Toinette, having induced Argan COMIC 'PERSUASIONS': ORDEALS 275 to counterfeit death, makes him a witness of the heart- lessness of his wife and the fidelity of his daughter Angelique (ibid. 3. 16-21). In Le Midecin Malgrl Lui 3. 3, Lucas is a witness of the knavery of Sganarelle. In Monsieur de Pourceaugnac (2. 2.) the doctor testifies to the ill health of the hero, convincing Oronte ; (2. 3) Sbrigani, disguised as a Flemish merchant, testifies to the hero's debts and his design to rehabilitate him- self by a rich marriage ; and (2. 8—10) Nerine and Lu- cette in disguise, with the children, give evidence of his alleged bigamy. The speeches exemplify this division of dianoia. In Twelfth Night 4. 2, Shakespeare makes the Clown, in the guise of Sir Topas, a witness of Malvolio's alleged insanity. The song of Ariel (' Full fathom five ') in The Tempest 1. 2. 394—400 bears witness to Ferdinand concerning the supposed death of his father. The Prince and Poins are wit- nesses to the flight of Falstaff from the booty he has taken (1 Henry IV 2. 4. 255—67). Prince : ' We two saw you four set on four, and you bound them, and were masters of their wealth. Mark, now, how a plain tale shall put you down. Then did we two set on you four, and, with a word, out-faced you from your prize, and have it ; yea, and can show it you here in the house. And, Falstaff, you carried your guts away as nimbly, with as quick dexterity, and roared for mercy, and still ran and roared, as ever I heard bull-calf. What a slave art thou, to hack thy sword as thou hast done, and then say it was in fight ! What trick, what device, what starting-hole, canst thou now find out to hide thee from this open and apparent shame ? ' He asks Falstaff for an exhibition of dianoia ; Falstaff gives it with an ' oath,' adding an ' opinion ' (ibid. 2. 4. 270—5) : ' By the Lord, I knew ye as well as he that made ye. ... The lion will not touch the true prince.'] (4) Tests. IThe usual translation of Sdwravoi is 'Persuasions' VTI L , (4) tests op ' tortures ' ; but for comedy the term embraces ordeals ordeals (mental as well as physical), forcible inquisitions, system- atic tests of every sort, yet particularly those of a mechanical nature, as may be inferred from the 276 THE TRACTATE ILLUSTRATED primary meaning of pacavo?, that is, touchstone. A satis- factory rendering of the word pauavoi in the Tractate would combine the notions of ' torture ' (such as mock- floggings) , decisions by mock-combat, tests (as of poetry by weight and measure), and, on the mental side, per- sistent inquiries and mock-examinations (as that of the Bachelierus in Le Malade Imaginaire) . Sharp mental inquisitions naturally form a part of the literary technique in the Platonic dialogue ; Plato systemati- cally introduces them for comic effect, as in the Protag- oras and the Phaedrus, and even in the Apology. Excellent examples are found in Book 1 of the Republic and in the Ion. But in general, perhaps, the ' ordeal ' tends rather to be of a physical sort, or at least to in- volve the use of material objects and instruments, such as the scales of Wouter Van Twiller and the dice of Bridoye (see above, p. 247) , or the cart-wheel described at the end of the Summoner's Tale in Chaucer. The noun (3«(7«voi in the Tractate corresponds to the fre- quently occurring verb (Jao-av^siv in Aristophanes, who uses the noun but twice (Thesmophoriazusae 800, 801). The nine occurrences of the verb in the Frogs (616, 618, 625, 629, 642, 802, 1121, 1123, 1367 — cf. also pacavuTTpta, 826) tend to show the range of mean- ing. Take the first five. Xanthias (in the disguise of Dionysus = ' Heracles,' beginning with an ' oath,' and offering a ' compact ') : 'By Zeus, now! If ever I was here before, or stole a hair's worth of your goods, let me perish. And I '11 make you a right noble offer. Take this lad of mine, and torture ((3a of the less familiar, so long as we do not convert our " language into an enigma or a jargon, gives opportun- ity for a su ccession of delights ^ ismgfrom the rec- ~~^ y ognit ion of meani ngs^, AristotIe""does noT~pra:isery~~" say all this, but I trust no injury has been done to his remarks on diction if we detect in them a latent re- semblance to other parts of his theory. There can at all events be no question as to the im- portance he attaches to that element in the plot of a drama or an epic poem which he calls ' discovery ' (<&vaYv<&pwis) or, as we sometimes render it, ' recog- nition.' Like other terms found in the Poetics, this may be taken first in a more general sense, and then in a more special or technical sense. Discovery in general is simply a transition from ignorance to knowl -*^ 7 edge. You may discover the identity of a person, or of your dog Argus, or of inanimate, even casual, things. You may discover the solution of a riddle propounded by the Sphinx. You may discover that such and such a thing has or has not occurred, or that you yourself have or have not done a particular deed. Thus Oedi- pus discovers, or t hinks he discovers, all sorts of th ings tr ue or unt rue — that Creon is plotting against him; that Tiresias is basely involved in the plot ; that he, the hero, could not have slain his father and married his mother, fulfilling the oracle, since he discovers that Polybus and Merope have died a natural death ; that the dead Polybus and Merope after all were not his parents ; that the man he slew at the cross-roads was t2 292 APPENDIX his father, and the queen he subsequently married, his mother ; that, as Tiresias had said, he himself, Oedipus, is the accursed defiler of the land whom he has been seeking. ' Oedi pus ' is the real answer to the riddle of the Sphinxj more than other infants, he with the pierced feet wen t on all fou rs in the morning of life ; he above all went proudly erect at noon ; and he it was who in his blindn£ss_ffiejrtj^h_a_staff in the night of age. All the while the unfamiliar, as it is added on, is converted into the familiar ; the unexpected turns out to be the very thing we were awaiting. The unknown stranger is revealed as the first-born of the house — who must again become a stranger, and yet again seek a familiar home and final resting-place, no longer at outlandish Thebes, but here in the neighbor- hood of our own Athens, at the grove beloved of his and our poet. And all the while we, with Oedipus, desire further knowledge, and our desire, momentarily baffled, is as constantly satisfied — until the entire plan of Sophocles is unfolded, and we know all. jsven when the JmowIedgeL is painful, the satisfaction is a satisjactiom And for us, the spectators, the pain is tempered, since we behold it, not_in real life, but in an im itafiqn ^with a close resemblance to reality (yet "with a difference) that keeps us inferring, and saying : ' Ah, so it is — just like human fortune and misfortune as we see them every day ! ' The story itself, being traditional, is familiar yet old and far away; and it now has an admixture of the strange and rare which only Sophocles coulTgiveTr"How delightful to learn — to discover fundamental similarity under super- ficial difference ! So much for ' discovery ' in general. More specif- ically, in the technical sense, a ' discove ry ' is the THE FIFTH FORM OF ' DISCOVERY ' 293 recognition, in the drama or in a tale, of thejdentit^of ong ^or m ore persons by one or more others. X may know Y, and then Y must learn the identity of X, or the mutual ignorance of both may pass into mutual recognition, causing love or hate, and hence pleasure or pain, to one or both ; but, if the poet or novelist does his work aright, always vrith^leasurejto^tbe.raaa who sees__the_ pky jjr hears the story — the pleasure of inferring and learning. In particular, the poet must let the audience do its own observing and draw its own inferences without too much obvious assistance. In tragedy at least, we do not wish formal proofs of identity, the display of "Birthmarks^"scars, or tokens — necklaces and so on. Nor do we wish a purely art ificial d eclaration from the unknown individual, with no preceding incident to make it necessary. In tragedy, tokens and declarations are the last resort of a feeble or nodding poet, who has forgotten that all men desire to learn by inference, and must not be cheated of the universal satisfaction. They like to fancy themselves wholly responsible for their mental operations ; they do not wish to have their wits insulted. The various kinds of ' discovery,' in the more tech- nical sense, are, according to Aristotle, six in number. Of these, the first is that brought about by signs or tokens ; the second is the formal declaration ; the third is the one effected by memory, when the occasion stirs a man's emotions, and his display of feeling because of some remembrance reveals who he must be ; and the fourth is that resulting from inference, when one agent in a drama identifies another by a process of reasoning. It is easy to see that these four divisions, and indeed all six, are not mutually exclusive, since, for example, a scar might be subsidiary to a declaration, or serve to 294 APPENDIX stir a memory ; or a necklace, or a bow, or a garment, might prompt an inference. The fifth kind is the 'synthetic' (or 'composite,' or fictitious — otherwise fallacious or false, or perhaps ' concocted ') ' discovery,' and is the form I wish specially to examine. The sixth is the best form. In it the identity of the hero is re- vealed, not by a scar, or by his own declaration, arti- ficially dragged in by the poet, or by his weeping when he hears the tale of his wanderings rehearsed by another, or by an inference made by his long-lost sister ; but through the inevitable sequence of incident after in- cident in the plot itself. Here the action of the reader's mind follows the very action of the play, and the plea- sure of learning the particular identity is but one item in an . orderly ^series, in that passage from ignorance to knowledge which is effected by the work as a whole. And pleasure, we must recollect, is not a state of being, but a form, of action. The right functioning of the mind is pleasure. Pleasure^a^"TFee~aHivTty are convertible" terms. Thus the emphasis of the Poetics is always laid upon what is rational and orderly. An overplus of delight is experienced when a regular ad- vance from antecedent to consequent finally brings a sudden addition to our knowledge ; when by a rapid, unlabored, logical inference the desire to know the truth is satisfied. All learning is essentially rapid ; the recognition dawns, then comes as a flash of pleasure. Yet the poet has a use for what is not strictly true and logical. Even the i rrationa l may escape censure if it be made_pljjjaible: L or comic when comedy is intended. And the marvelous is sweet. It is legitimate also to represent a dramatic character as deceiving himself or another, the poet being aware that it is hard for a man swayed by anger, or fear, or any other powerful emotion, THE FIFTH FORM OF ' DISCOVERY 295 to see and tell the exact truth. People are always magnifying the things that comfort their self-love, and minifying whatever may ruffle or hurt it. Then there are cha racters who like to mystify their fellows, as well as those who deceive^6T""some~ obvious advantage. The poet may on occasion set before us a crafty Odysseus who delights in all manner of wiles. It requires art also to portray the slippery Clytaemnestra, not to mention the lying Lady Macbeth. Superior mental activity as such is ever interesting, and the false in- ferences of the deceived are not unpleasing, but the reverse, unless they exceed the bounds of the credible. Furthermore, as we have seen, a slight admixture of the strange or rare gives a spice "to" the known and o bvious . In fact, we all like to add a little something in the telling of a tale, with a view to pleasing the neighbor who hears it. Accordingly, in his remarks on epic poetry Aris- totle says (Poetics 24. 1460317—26) : ' That the marvelous is a source of pleasure may be seen by the way in which people add to a story [rcpotr- Tsfrsvres] ; for they always embellish the facts in the belief that it will gratify the listeners. Yet it is Homer above all who has shown the rest how a lie should be told ; [in effect : who has shown how a poet ought to represent Odysseus or the like deceiving some other personage.] The essence of the method is the use of a paralogism, as follows. Suppose that whenever A exists or comes to pass, B must exist or occur. Men think, if the consequent B exists, the antecedent A must also ; but the inference is illegitimate. For the poet, then, the right method is this : if the antecedent A is untrue, and if there is something else, B, which would necessa- rily exist or occur if A were true, one must add [rcpotr- Oslvai] the B ; for, knowing the added detail to be true, we ourselves mentally proceed to the fallacious inference 296 APPENDIX that the antecedent A is likewise true. We may take an instance from the Bath Scene in the Odyssey.' 1 That is, one must say the least possible about the A, and keep harping on the B. Turning to the Bath Scene in Odyssey 19, we see the force of Aristotle's illustration. Here Odysseus, disguised in rags, wishes to convince Penelope that he, the Beggar, has seen the real Odysseus alive = A, a falsehood. Accordingly, he adds an elaborate and accurate description of the hero's clothing = B. Penelope knows B to be true, since the garments came from her. If A were true, that is, if the Beggar had seen Odysseus, the natural consequence, B, would be a true description of the clothing. From the truth of B, Penelope mistakenly infers the occurrence of A, and believes the Beggar. 2 It is interesting to note in detail how Homer makes Odysseus ' add the B ' ; I give the passage (Odyssey 19. 218 ff.) in the translation of Butcher and Lang : ' " Tell me what manner of raiment he was clothed in about his body, and what manner of man he was him- self, and tell me of his fellows that went with him." Then Odysseus of many counsels answered her saying : " Lady, it is hard for one so long parted from him to tell thee all this, for it is now the twentieth year since he went thither and left my country. Yet even so I will tell thee as I see him in spirit. Goodly Odysseus wore a thick, purple mantle, twofold, which had a brooch fashioned in gold, with a double covering for the pins, and on the face of it was a curious device : a hound in his fore-paws held a dappled fawn, and gazed on it as it writhed. And all men marveled at the workmanship, how, wrought as they were in gold, the hound was gazing on the fawn and strangling it, and the fawn was writhing with his feet and striving to flee. Moreover, 1 Here and subsequently I follow, with little deviation, my 'Amplified Version' (p. 82). 2 Ibid., pp. 82-3. THE FIFTH FORM OF ' DISCOVERY ' 297 I marked the shining doublet about his body, as it were the skin of a dried onion, so smooth it was, and glister- ing as the sun ; truly many women looked thereon and wondered. Yet another thing will I tell thee, and do thou ponder it in thy heart. I know not if Odysseus was thus clothed upon at home, or if one of his fellows gave him the raiment as he went on board the swift ship, or even it may be some stranger." ... So he spake, and in her heart he stirred yet more the desire of weeping, as she knew the certain tokens that Odysseus showed her. So when she had taken her fill of tearful lament, then she answered him, and spake saying : " Now verily, stranger, thou that even before wert held in pity, shalt be dear and honorable in my halls, for it was I who gave him these garments, even such as thou namest, and folded them myself, and brought them from the chamber, and added besides the shin- ing brooch to be his jewel." ' At this point it is well to remember several things. First of all, there are the words 7cpo(ru8svTss and wpocGsTvat, used in the sense of ' adding to ,' as if putting together truth and falsehood were characteris- tic^ deception. Then, there is the logical term paral- ogism (TcocpaAoyia-fAos) employed by Aristotle in the same~connection. Again, the stock example of a liar could hardly be any other than Odysseus. Finally, we are to recall that Aristotle remarks in the Poetics (24. 1459I314— 5) upon the number of ^discoveries '_ Jn the Odyssey ; the poem is, he says, an example of an "rnvolved plot, since there is ' discovery ' throughout, and it is a story of character. The incident of the false tidings, just quoted, has in fact the nature of an erro- neousjscognition effected in the heroine by the dis- guised hero, and might suggest the title ' Ohuaa&be, .0Yi? Set. You must mention the false A, but not dwell upon it. You must put in the B, and, as Homer makes the Beggar do in describing the garments to Penelope, you must keep on adding to the description. In spite of By water's warning that " it is idle to speculate further as to the way in which the actual Discovery may have been worked out ' in Odysseus with the False Tidings, it is tempting to think of this poem or lay in connection with Book 19 or Book 23 of the Odyssey. If, however, the story is not Homeric, one could imagine the hero appearing in disguise, and then proving his identity by a detailed description of his ancient bow, or perhaps offering to pick out this weapon from a number of others, and thus imposing on the guileless. Some of these thoughts were evidently in my mind when my ' Amplified Version ' was published. But since then the whole question of the ' synthetic ' or ' concocted discovery ' has become more intelligible to me through the observation of actual instances of the device in literature. Aristotle was simply dealing with observed facts, so that when a point in his con- ception of the drama or of epic poetry is obscure, the best way of illuminating it is, not to theorize immod- erately on his text, but to compare what he says with the practice of poets. Every one of his kinds of ' dis- covery ' can be illustrated from Homer. How could it be otherwise in view of the allusion, in the Poetics to &vaYV(6pt<7i? in the Odyssey ? But I have hit upon two very apt examples from the Biblical account of^ Joseph and his brethren, a tale that might be described in Aristotle's words as ' a complex story — there is "discovery" throughout, — and one of character. ; - Thus (Gen. 37. 31-3) : 3 o4 APPENDIX ' And they took Joseph's coat, and killed a kid of the goats, and dipped the coat in the blood ; and they sent the coat of many colors, and they brought it to their father, and said : " This have we found ; know now whether it be thy son's coat or no." And he knew it, and said : " It is my son's coat ; an evil beast hath de- voured him ; Joseph is without doubt rent in pieces." In other words, the sons supply the B, their father infers the A, and the ' concocted discovery ' is effected by a paralogism. The writer of the story understood a point in his art — TraiYJffoci roxpo&oyiqjiov, — and knew how to represent a lie — JjeuS^ l£y stv &S ^- ^ n fact, he is specially given to using this form of recog- nition. Potiphar's wife (Gen. 39. 7—20) caused Poti- phar to make a false ' discovery ' by means of Joseph's garment, which she laid up by her ' until his lord came home ' : ' And she spake unto him according to these words, saying : " The Hebrew servant which thou hast brought unto us came in unto me to mock me. And it came to pass, as I lifted up my voice and cried, that he left his garment with me, and fled out." And it came to pass, when his master heard the words of his wife, which she spake unto him, saying, " After this manner did thy servant to me," that his wrath was kindled. And Joseph's master took him, and put him into the prison.' Joseph himself practised upon his brethren in some- what similar fashion. After securing grain from him in Egypt, twice, they found every man's money in his sack's mouth, and on the second occasion the silver cup of the great Egyptian diviner in Benjamin's sack. If it be objected that the story in Genesis is his- torical, and that we should not attribute too much to the originality of the writer, there is an excellent reply in the Poetics itself (9. I45ib29— 32) : THE FIFTH FORM OF ' DISCOVERY * 305 ' And even if he happens to take a subject from his- tory, he is not the less a poet for that ; for there is nothing to hinder certain actual events from possessing the ideal quality of a probable or necessary sequence ; and it is by virtue of representing this quality in such events that he is their poet.' It is obvious that false ' discoveries ' are not restricted to a single type. Odysseus describing the garments Penelope had given him is a deceiver. Odysseus de- scribing the nuptial couch to Penelope, who has just tried to deceive him, is in earnest. A mistaken recog- nition might occur when no deceit was intended by either party. Nevertheless the poet would need to know how to bring it about, and the principle would always be the same — a mistaken inference from the known B to the seemingly necessary antecedent A. The New Comedy of Greece must have been full of incidents turning upon both innocent mistakes and guileful deceptions with regard to identity. It is easy enough to find examples in Plautus and Terence ; Chremes' delusion that the courtesan Bacchis is the true love of young Clinia, in the Self-Tormentor, will serve as an instance. As for the modern drama, need one mention Shakespeare's Comedy of Errors ? I take it that Aristotle's fifth form of discovery is peculiarly well-suited to comedy. All men by nature desire to know ; all like to see good representations of the human mind in action ; and nearly all delight .to see false inferences well portrayed — if the mystery is finally cleared, and every mistake resolved. INDEX [Names and titles included in the Bibliography (above pp. xiv -xxi) are here omitted; for two other cases of omission, see below under ' Aristotle ' and ' Poetics.'] Abraham 234 A bstract of a Comparison between Aristophanes and Menander, Plutarchian 35, 90 A charnians, Aristophanes' 92, 149 n., 157, 203, 209, 213, 229, 231, 234, 244, 251, 252, 271, 277, 282, 283. Acharnians, Rogers' edition 39 n., 282, 283 Acharnians, Starkie's edition 6 n., 15 n., 29 n., 234, 235, 240, 242, 244, 246, 250, 252, 256 Achilles 92, 143 ' Acidus ' 95 Acres, Bob 270 Acropolis 278 Ad Atticum, Cicero's 92 n. Ad Quintum Fratrem, Cicero's 91 n. Adrastus 33 n. Aeacus 197, 207, 210, 249, 276, 277 Aegeon 281 Aegisthus 61, 150, 201 Aegyptus 160 n. Aeneid, Virgil's 187 Aeolosicon, Aristophanes' 22 n., 23, 24, I57n., 285 Aeolus 175 Aeschines 282 Aeschylus 15, 21, 23, 24, 27, 30, 48, 103, 106, 125 n., 139, 193-196, 198, 204, 207, 210, 219, 220, 228, 232, 239, 243, 247, 248, 251, 260, 267, 277, 28on., 301 Aesthetic, Croce's 78-80, 80 n. Agathon 222 Agnes 268 Ainslie 80 n. Ajax 143 Alcaeus 157 Alcestis, Euripides' 86 Alciat 281 Alcibiades 107, 112, 113, 123, 126, 192, 237, 240, 267 Alcidamas 91, 132 Alcinous 204 Alcmaeon 33 Aldus Manutius 39 n., 40 Alexamenus 101 Alexander 237, 287 Alexandria 51, 139 Alexis 31, 150, 151, 160, 192 Alope, Carcinus' 165 Ambassador 278, 283 Ameipsias 28, 105, 106, 151, 157, 160, 250 American Journal of Philology 36n., I47n., i6on. Amour Midecin, L' , Moliere's 81, 82n. Amphitryon, MoliSre's 209, 286 Amphitryon, Plautus' 50, 209 'Amplified Version' of the Po- etics, Cooper's gn., I2n., 4on., 42n., 63n., 166, 284, 296n., 298, 301-303 Amynias 248 Anacharsis 134 Anaxandrides 26, 30, 31, 34, 3 4 n., 55, 147, I47n., I48n., I5 1 . x 59» I ^°. i6on., 260 Ancient Rhetorical Theories of the Laughable, Grant's 98, 99. 99 n- 308 INDEX Andria 149 Andria, Terence's 35 AnecdotaGraeca, Bekker's 150 n, Angelique 231, 242, 256, 273. 275 Anima, De, Aristotle's 31, 32, 133. 134. i34n., 159, i59n. Anne Page 254 Anonymus 27 n., 5m. Antecedents of Hellenistic Co- medy, The, Prescott's 7m. Anthologium, Stobaeus' n6n. Anthology, Greek 39 Anti-Atticist 5, 7n., 29, 150, 15cm., 233 Antipater 149 Antiphanes 31-33. 33 n -< 34. 50, I49n., 151, 160 Antipholus of Ephesus 197, 205 Antipholus of Syracuse 197, 205 Antiphon 161 Aphrodite 159 Apollo 250, 270, 273 Apology, Plato's 38, 99n., 103, 104, I04n., 105, 106, 113, 124, 157, 231, 240, 276 Arabic version of the Poetics 299, 301 Archers 253, 279 Archibius 105, 158 Archidemus 270 Archilochus 21, 97, 193, 259 Archippus 28, 151, I57n., 159 Argan 256, 274, 278, 279 Argas 170 Argus 291 Ariel 235, 242, 249, 254, 275 Ariphrades 126 Aristides 142 Aristodemus 114 Aristophanes (see also Acharni- ans, Aeolosicon, Babylonians, Birds, Clouds, Cocalus, Dae- dalus, Ecclesiazusae, Frogs, Knights, Lysistrata, Peace, Plutus, Poiesis, Storks, Thes- mophoriazusae, Wasps) 1, 6, 15-20, 20n., 21-25, 2 7-32, 33n., 34-39, 39n., 40, 41, 44, 48, 49, 49n., 50, 58, 59, 68, 71-75, 80, 90-92, 98, 102, 103, io3n., 104-107, in, 113, n6n., 121-124J I25n., 126, 132, 14m., 143, I49n., 150- 152, 155. 150, I56n., 157, I57n., 158, 159, I59n., 160, 161, 169, 171-173, 178, 182, 185, 187, 189, 191-199, 201- 203, 205-211, 213, 214, 217, 219, 221, 223, 228, 229, 232- 235, 240, 241, 243-245, 248, 250-252, 257, 259-262, 264, 266, 270-272, 274, 276, 280, 28on., 281-285, 287, 288 Aristophon 142 Aristotelische Aufsatze, Vahlen's 5 Aristotle. References to the philosopher, as also to his Poetics, are omitted ; but see Carmina, Constitution of Athens, De Anima, De Caelo, De Divinatione, De Genera- Hone Animalium, De Inter- pretatione, De Partibus Ani- malium, De Sensu, De Soph- isticis Elenchis, Didascaliae, Eudemian Ethics, Fragmenta, Historia Animalium, Meta- physics, Meteorologica, Nico- machean Ethics, On Poets, Problems, Politics, Physica Auscultatio, Rhetoric, Scolion, Topica, Tractate. Aristotle, not the Stagirite, a writer on the Iliad 127 Aristotle, not the Stagirite, a writer On Pleonasm 127 Aristotle of Cyrene 127 Aristotles, eight 127 Arndt I38n., 289 Arnolphe 267, 268 Art of Poetry, On the, Aristotle's, not the Stagirite 127 Art of Poetry, Theophrastus' 127 Arthur 234 Artium Scriptores, Spengel's i6on. Asclepius 196 Aspasia 260 Ass's Shadow, Archippus' 28, 159 INDEX 309 As You Like It, Shakespeare's 235, 248, 269 Atellan Comedy 95 Athenaeus 26n., 101, ioin. Athenian, The, in the Laws 108, 109, 127, 252 Athenians 250 Athens 25, 35, 39, 75, 91, 105, 152, 158, 162, 172, 173, 177, 195, 212, 221, 241, 260, 265, 270, 271, 282, 284, 292 Attica 37, 172, 288 Audry 235 Augustus Caesar 268 Aulularia, Plautus' 196, 198 Autobiographic, Geschichte der, Misch's 1 Autobiography, The, Burr's 1, 42 n. Avare, V, Moliere's 171, 177, 196, 198, 241, 245, 261 Avocat, Secpnd 280 Avocats 265 Babylon 242 Babylonians, Aristophanes' 29, 156, 157, 235 Bacchis 305 Bachelierus 267, 271, 276, 278, 282 Bacon 43 Bain 77 'Ballet,' in L' Amour Midecin 81 Bardolph 240, 256, 261 Barent 237 Barthole 281 Bath Scene 217, 296 Bdelycleon 274, 278 Beare i58n. Beatrice 273 Beggar, in the Odyssey 296, 302, 303 Bekker 3on., I50n. Belise 237, 238 Bellerophon 242 Benedick 273 Benjamin 205, 304 Bentley 153 n., 236 Beralde 273 Bergk 1570 Bernays 10, ion., 12, 12 n., 15-19, 42, 262, 266 Bible 204, 303 Biottus 33 Birds, Aristophanes' 27, 38, 40, 41, 50, 52, 61, 71-73, 121, 157, 187, 191, 195, 196, 199, 201, 203, 204, 208, 209, 211, 217, 228, 229, 231-233, 235, 236, 240-243, 245-247, 249, 2 5*i 2 57. 259-262, 264, 267, 270, 271, 274, 280, 283, 284 Birds, chorus of 73, 199, 232, 233. 270 Birds, Rogers' edition 73 n., 229, 259, 283 Blass 103 n. Bob Acres 270 Bobadil 270 Boeotia 282 Boileau 3 Bonitz 34, 35, 61 n. Book of Homage to Shakespeare, Gollancz's I5n. Boor, Theophrastian 121 Boston 75 Botanic Garden, Darwin's 227 Bottom 229, 235, 237, 241, 242, 246, 249, 256, 258, 261, 262 Bottom's Dream 246 Bourgeois Gentilhomme, Le, Mo- liere's 171, 244, 253, 256, 262, 265, 279, 282 Boy, in Henry V 240, 256 Bradley 2 Brasidas 241 Brentano 20 n. Bridoye 247, 276 Brill 77 n. Bruns 1 Brutus 238, 239 Burns 255 Burr 1, 42 n. Butcher 19, I9n., 31, 39. 4 1 - 2 9° Byron 189, 215 Bywater 5, 6n., ion., 12, 12 n., 19, I9n., 2in., 22, 22n., 23n., 27, 28, 41, 4m., 64, 64n., 13m-. 133, I33n- I39n., I43n., 169, 192,298-300, 30on., 302, 303 3io INDEX Byzantinische Zeitschrift 4011. Byzantium 231 Caelo, De, Aristotle's 51 Caesar, Augustus 268 Caesar, Julius 89, 238, 239 Calais 256 Caliban 283 Callias 158, 161 Callimachus 156 Calliope 230 Calonice 72 Calverley 238, 257, 258 Capps 22, 22 n. Captives, Plautus' 212 Cario 253 Carmen Physicum, Epicharmus' 151 Carmina, Aristotle's 13, I3n., 227 Castre, Paul 281 Cercyon 165 Chabes 231 Chaeremon 247, 248, 267 Chantecler, Rostand's 208, 240 Chaos 257 Characters, Theophrastus' 121, 127 Chares 105, 158 Chaucer 217, 257, 276 Chionides 28, 150, 151, 160, 172 Chirones, Cratinus' I57n. Choephoroe, Aeschylus' 299 Choerilus 14m., 227 ChoralHancer ,0n the, Antiphon's 161 Chorus in Thesmophoriazusae 272 Chremes 33, 268, 305 Chremylus 197, 200, 205, 210, 272 Chrysale 281 Chrysippus 98 Chrysostom 39, 39 n., 40 Chrysostomos . . . sein Verhaltnis zum Hellenismus, Naegele's 4on. Cicero, M. T. 39, 39n., 41, 63, 64, 87, 88n., 89-91, 91 n., 92, 92 n., 93-98, 100, ioon., 102, 132, 200, 260, 289 Cicero, Q. T. 91, 9m. Cinesias 157, 158 Cinesias, in Lysistrata 270, 278 Cinesias, the poet 264 City Dionysia 194, 282 Civic Justice (see also Dicae- opolis) 193 Civil Wars, Daniel's 227 Clansmen, Leucon's 28, 157 Clark 35 n. Classical Library 88 n. Classical Philology 35 n., 48n., 7m., 290 Classical Review 22 n. Classical Studies in Honor of C. F. Smith 89 n. Cleante 256, 273, 274 Cleon 241, 251, 260 C16onte 244, 256 Cleophon 143, I43n., 170 Clfnia 305 Clitandre 256 Cloudcuckootown 242, 245, 264, 272 Clouds, Aristophanes' 28, 38, 39, 5°. 73. 75. i°4- io 5. i°5n., 113, ii3n., 124, 14m., 156, 212, 223, 231, 235, 236, 238, 239, 241, 242, 245, 246, 248, 250, 252, 257, 260-262, 267, 274, 278, 280 Clouds, chorus of 73, 75 Clouds, new divinities 257 Clouds, Rogers' edition 38 n., 5on., io5n., Clouds, Starkie's edition 105 n., ii3n., 238, 239, 245 Clytaemnestra 295 Cocalus, Aristophanes' 22 n., 23, 24, 47, 285 Cock and the Bull, The, Calver- ley's 238, 239, 257, 258 Coislin, De 10 Coislinianus , Tractatus, seeTrac tate. ' Comedy,' in L' Amour Mide- cin 81, 82 Comedy, On, Theophrastus' 127 Comedy of Errors, Shakespeare' 190, 197, 205, 208, 281, 286, 305 Comicorum Graecorum Frag- INDEX 3" menia, Kaibel's (see also Kaibel) n, nn. Commentaries, Favorinus' 101 Commonwealth, English 25 Comoedia,De, Donatus' 9m, 132 Comparison of Aristophanes and Menander, Plutarchian 35, 90 Concordance of Aristophanes, Dunbar's 280 Congreve 25 Connus, Ameipsias' 28, 105, 157, 35° Conrade 274 Constable, in L'Avare 245 Constitution of A thens, Aristotle's 9, 12, I2n., 161, 16m., 227 Conthyle 231 Cook 7m,, ioon. Cope 14m., 152 n., 160 n. Corin 268, 269 Coriolanus, Shakespeare's 230, 245. 258 Cornford 22 n., 44, 45 n., 48, 48n., 49, 49n., I22n., 263- 265 Corpse, in the Frogs 173, 245, 250, 261 Covielle 244 Cramer 6n., 10, ion. Crates, comic poet 21, 28, 29, 48, 49, 71, 112, 150, 151, 160, 177. i7 8 . Crates, critic 157, 157 n. Cratinus 28, 34, 37, 92, 102, 151, I52n., 157, I57n., 160, 251, 260, 288 Creon 291 Crispinus 273 Critique de VEcole des Femmes, La, Moliere's 81, 81 n. Crito 126, I2.6n. Croce 78-80, 80 n. Croiset, A. 3, 411., 24, 24n., 105 n. Croiset, M. 40., I7n., 31, 31 n., 36, 36n., 39n., 49n., i2on., Cujas 281 Cyclops 131, 170, 171 Cyclops, Euripides' 171, 228 Cynics 97, 98 Daedalus 32, 159 Daedalus, Aristophanes' 28, 32, I57n., 159 Daedalus, Eubulus' I5gn. Daedalus, Philippus' I59n. Daniel 227 Dante 76 Darwin 227 Daw 234 De Anima, Aristotle's 31, 32, 133, I34n., 159, I59n. De Caelo, Aristotle's 51 De Coislin 10 De Comoedia, Donatus' 91 n. De Divinatione, Aristotle's 149, I49n. De Elocutione, Demetrius' 71 n., 102, 103, I03n., 138, 149, I49n., 150, ison. Defence of Poetry, Shelley's ioon. Defense of Poesy, Sidney's ym., 72 n. De Generatione Animalium, Aristotle's 112, 145, I45n., 153, I53n., 162, i62n. De Interpretatione, Aristotle's 141, 14m. De Legibus, Cicero's 39 n., 9m., De Mysteriis, ( ?) Iamblichus' 82, 83 n. De Officiis, Cicero's 39n., 9m. De Oratore, Cicero's 88n., 8gn., 289 De Partibus Animalium, Aris- totle's 163, 163 n. De Sensu, Aristotle's 29, 158, 158 n. De Sophisticis Elenchis, Aris- totle's 35, 146, 231 Dead man, in the Frogs 173, 245, 250, 261 Dekker 273 Delphi 114 Demeter 277 Demetrius 26, 71, 102, 103, io3n., 138, I38n., 149, 149H., 150, ison. Democritus, predecessor of Aristotle 126 Democritus, philosopher 87, 89, 99, 159 312 INDEX Demosthenes 14m., 213 Demus 198, 250, 260, 262-264, 278 Dervishes 254 Despautere 258 Dew, Signieur 236 Diafoirus, Monsieur 231 Diafoirus, Thomas 231, 242, 256 Dialog, Der, Hirzel's I, ioin., io2n., I03n., ii2n. Dialogues, Alexamenus' 101 Dialogues, Plato's 20, 21, 38, 99-102, I02n., 103, 104, 107, 112, 116, 123, 125, 127, 276 Dicaeopolis 193, 200, 203, 229, 252, 277, 278, 283 Dickens 261 Didascaliae, Aristotle's 16, 28, 30, 151, 156, 157, 159, 161 Diliad, Nicochares' 170 Dindorf 156, 157 Diogenes, the Cynic 98 Diogenes Laertius 89 n., 100, loon., 101, ioin., 126, I26n., 127, I27n. Diomede 175 Diomedes 51, 85 Dionysius ' the Brazen ' 230 Dionysius, painter 169 Dionysius, tyrant 39 Dionysius Thrax 51, 85 Dionysus I7n., 14m., 185, 189, T-95-I9T, 202, 204, 206, 207, 210, 221, 240, 241, 243, 245, 247. 249, 250, 255, 262, 267, 269, 274, 276, 277, 289 Diphilus 48 Disciple, in the Clouds 244, 247, 248, 267 Divinatione, De, Aristotle's 149, i49n. Dogberry 231, 246, 248, 252, 258, 262, 268, 274 Donatus gin., 132 Don Juan, Byron's 189, 215 Don Juan, Moliere's 209, 246, 262, 267 Don Quixote, Cervantes' 216, 263 Dorante 81 n. Dorians 172, 173 Dovregubbe 255 Diibner 23 n. Dugas 65 n., 77, 78 n. Duke, Solinus 205, 281 Dunbar 280 Dutch painters 169 Duty, Ode to, Wordsworth's 227 Ecclesiazusae, Aristophanes' 24, 38, 58, 272 Mcole des Femntes, L', Moliere's 81, 267, 268 Ecphantides 29, 128, 151, 152, I52n., 162 E gger35. 35 n., 45 n., 100, ioin., i25n., i26n., i27n. Egypt 304 Elbow 232 Electra 299 Electra, Sophocles' 86 Elizabethan comedy 25 Elmire 274 Elocutione, De, Demetrius' 26, 71, 711, 102., 103, io3n., 138, I38n., 149, I49n., 150, I5°n. Elyot 39, 39 n. Empedocles 227 Encyclopedia Americana 4811. England 25 English 283 Ephesus 281 Epicharmus 28-30, 48, 49, 55, 102, I02n., 103, in, 112, 150-152, I52n., 153, I53n., 154, I54n., 155, 15511., 172, 177 Epicrates 26 Eraste 273 Eratosthenes 156, 157 Erganzung zu Aristoteles' Poetik, Bernays' 10, 15 Escalus 232 Essay on Comedy, Meredith's 80 n. Ethics, Aristotle's, see Eudemian Ethics, Nicomachean Ethics. Mourdi, L', Moliere's 273 Eubulus, comic poet 31, 32, 151. 159, I59H- INDEX 313 Eubulus, orator 105, 158 Euclides 126 Euclio 196 Eudemian Ethics, Aristotle's 7, 121, 12m. Euelpides 193, 230, 235, 241, 262, 267 Euergides 231 Euphues 242 Eupolis 28, 37, 92, 105, 10511., 151, 156, 157, 161, 251 Euripides 15, 21, 23-25, 27, 30, 31, 40, 48, 71, 86, 103, i37n., 141, 158, 171, 185, I 93" I 9°, 198, 204, 207, 210, 219-221, 228, 232, 235, 238, 239. 243. 247-249, 251, 255, 260, 267, 272, 273, 277, 28011., 284, 288 Europe, southern 255 Euihydemus, Plato's 15811. Evans, Sir Hugh 244 Evenus 135 n. Every Man in his Humor, Jon- son's 270 Facheux, Les, Moliere's 81 n., 209 Faerie Queene, Spenser's 170 Falstaff 25, 229, 234, 236, 237, 240, 242, 244, 249, 252, 254, 256, 261-263, 268-270, 273, 2 75. 279, 286 Faust 255 Faust, Goethe's 255 Favorinus 101 Femmes Savantes, Les, Moliere's 231, 237, 238, 256, 259, 279, 281 Ferdinand 275 Fernand 281 Feste 244, 268, 269, 275 Festin de Pierre, Le, see Don Juan, Moliere's. Fielding 207, 215 First Alcibiades, Plato's 112, H2n. First Proem, Tzetzes' 287-289 Fiske 89n., gon., 96-97, 97n., 98, 98 n. Flagon, Cratinus' 28, 157 Flatterer, Eupolis' 28, 157 Flemish painters 170 Flickinger 22 n. Fluellen 237, 283 Flute 236, 237 Fragmenta, Aristotle's 13 n., loon., 101, 10m., 150, 150 n., 156, I56n., 157, I57n., 158, I58n., 159, I59n., 161, 16m. French 282 French Soldier 236 French theorists 190 Frere 73, 170 Freud 76, 77, 77n., 78, 78n. Frogs, Aristophanes' 28, 40, 47- 48. 5°, 52, 58, 61, 73, 74, n6n., i25n., 14111., 143, 157. 158, 161, 173 185, 189 ij>4-Ifl8, 202, 204, 206, 207, ,_2jPf r ei2, 213, 220, 221, 232, 234. 239-241, 243, 245, 247, 249-251, 255, 257, 260-262, 267-270, 274, 276, 277, 284, 285, 288 Frogs, chorus of 73, 74, 207, 221 Frogs, Rogers' edition 232 Froth 232 Function of Suspense, Mori- arty's 68 n. Gadshill 233, 273 Gaunt 229 Generatione A nimalium, De, Aristotle's 112, 145, i45n., I 53» I 53 n -> x 62, i62n. Genesis, Book of 303, 304 Geronte 258 Gerontomania, Anaxandrides' 160, i6on. Geschichte der A utobiographie, Misch's 1 Gib (Gilbert) 234 Gilbert, W. S. 255 Glaucon 126, 221 Glaucus 175 Gliederung der Altattischen Ko- moedie, Zielinski's 44 Grammar, Despautere's 258 Grant 98, 99, 99 n. Gray's Inn 256 Goethe 255 314 INDEX Gollancz 15 n. Good Men, The, ( ?) Anaxandri- des' 160, i6on. Gorgias 26, 123, 144, 15211. Gorgias, Plato's 112, 11211., 15211. Governour, The, Elyot's 39 n. Greece 1711. Greek Anthology 39 Greek Culture, Cooper's 48 n. Greek Theatre, Flickinger's 2211. Greeks, the 255 Greg 1 GriechischeRoman, Der,Rohde's r Grieg 255 Grimarest 271 Guard, in Le Malade Imaginaire 279 Gudeman 10711., 12611., 179, 20911., 29811., 301, 302 Hades 189, 195, 196, 248 Haigh 2211., 7311., 12511., 15811., 253. 255, 282 Hal, see Prince Hal Hall of the Mountain King, In the, Grieg's 255 Hamlet, Shakespeare's 230, 248 Harpagon 171, 177, 196, 241, 245, 261 Harpocration 161 Hawker 264 Hegemon 28, 150, 161, 170 Heitz i58n., I5gn. Helicon 273 Hellenistic Comedy, The Ante- cedents of, Prescott's 7m. Hendrickson 90 n. 1 Henry IV, Shakespeare's 229, 233. 236, 240-242, 244, 249, 269, 270, 275, 279 2 Henry IV, Shakespeare's 239, 256 Henry V, Shakespeare's 234, 236, 237, 240, 256, 283 Hense n6n. Heracleid 189 Heracles 189, 196, 204, 207, 209, 221, 241, 250, 255, 257, 260, 261, 270, 276, 280, 283, 289 Heraclides 126, I26n. Heraclitus 83 Herald of King Aegyptus i6on. Hermathena 1511., 231, 234, 242 Hermes 145, 277 Hermippus 233 Hermit of Prague 268, 269 Heme 244 Herodotus 191 Hesiod 227 Hicks I34n. Hippias 126 Hippocrates 82 Hipponax 97, 259 Hirzel 1, 3, 10m., 102 n., 103 n., 112, ii2n. Histoire de la Litterature Grecque (see also Croiset) 4n., I7n., 24n. Historia Animalium, Aristotle's 163, i63n., 231 History of New York, Knicker- bocker's (Irving's) 247 Hobbes 79, 80 Hogarth 169 Homer (see also Iliad, Margites, and Odyssey) 1, 15, 21, 28, 37, 39-41, 92, 101, 106, 107, in, 127, 132, 136, 150, 170- 172, 174, 175, 190, 191, 217, 218, 243, 295, 296, 301, 303 Hoopoe 196, 211 Hopeful (see also Euelpides) 193 Horace 86, 86n., 87, 97, 99f- ' Horace ' (Ben Jonson) 273 Hostess, see Quickly Hugo 261 Hutton 263 Hybla 249 Iamblichus 82, 83, 83 n. 'Faufioi TEfvixoi, Tzetzes' 5 ln ' Ibsen 255 Ichneutae, Sophocles* 288 Idylls of the King, Tennyson's 170 Idyls, Theocritus' 171 Iliad i36n., 14m., 171, 175. 191 Ilium 190 Imole, Jean 281 INDEX 315 Index Aristotelicus, Bonitz's 34, 35. 61 n. Informer 264 Inspector 264, 274 Institutio Oratorio,, Quintilian's 36n., 39n., 92, 92n., 96n. Interpretations , De, Aristotle's 141, 14m. Iocasta 33 Ion, Plato's 103, 276 Iphicrates 142 Iphigenia 294 IpRigenia among the Taurians, Euripides' 27, 40, 71 Iris 73, 204, 229, 247, 250 Irus 175 Irving 247, 276 Isarchus 157 Italy 190 Jacobean comedy 25 Jacqueline 249, 282 Japanese, the 74 Jean Imole 281 Jean Paul 80 Jebb 62n., I23n., I24n., I25n., I35n., I38n., 1421I., 143 n., I44n., I45n., I47n., I53n., i5on., I58n. Jonson 270, 273 Josan 281 Joseph 204, 303, 304 Jourdain 253, 254, 256, 262, 279 Jowett 104, I04n., I05n., I07n., io8n., 109m, non., inn., ii2n., ii3n., ii4n., n6n., I25n., I28n., I29n., 13m., i62n. Juan, Don, Byron's 189, 215 Juan, Don (Le Festin de Pierre) , Moliere's 209, 246, 262, 267 Julian 281 Julie 273 Just Reason, in the Clouds 50 Justinian 281 Kaibel n, nn., 23 n., 27 n., 37n., 5m., 85, 86n., 9m., 15m., 152m, i53n., I55H-, 224, 259, 287, 287n. Kant 79, 80 Kayser n, n n., 14, I4n., 64n., 76n., 224, 228n., 262 Kent 22, 22 n. Kenyon 161 n. King Arthur, Frere's 170 King, the Great 229, 283 King's Eye 229 Knickerbocker 247, 276 Knights 263, 264 Knights, Aristophanes' 14m., 178, 198, 213, 234, 250, 257, 260, 262, 278 Kock 26n., 3m., 32, 32n., 33n., 34, 34n., io5n., 113^., I47n., I48n., I49n., ison.. I56n., I57n„ I58n., I59n:-, i6on., 233, 260 Kritik Aristotelischer Schriften, Zur, Vahlen's 299 Kroll 85 n. Labes 274 Lacedaemon 162 Lacedaemonians 119 Lady Macbeth 295 Lady Sovereignty 73, 257, 280, 283 Laertius, Diogenes 8gn., 100, ioon., 101, ioin., 126, I26n., 127, I27n. La Fleche 196 Laius 33, 157 Lampito 282 Lang 296 Languedoc 282 Laputa, Voyage to, Swift's 231, 245 Laughable, On the, Greek and Latin books 89, 93, 94 Laughable, On the, Theophras- tus' 127 Launce 232, 238 Laws, Plato's 99, 108, 109, no, non., in, inn., 121, 125, i25n., 127, i2gn. Leandre 241, 273 Leeuwen, Van 72 Legibus, De, Cicero's 39H-. 91 n. Legrand I, 26, 26n., 36n., 59, 59 n. 3i6 INDEX Lentulus 95 Letters of William Stubbs, Hut- ton's 263 Leucon 28, 151, 157 Lexicon, Harpocration's 161 Lexicon, Photius' 159 Library of the World's Best Literature, Warner's 49 n. Lincoln 291 Lingua Franca 282 Literarische Porirat der Griechen, Das, Bruns' 1 Lorenz 152 n. Louison 274, 278, 279 . jiucan 227 " Lucas 238, 249, 275, 279, 282 Lucette 275, 282 Lucian 39, 245 Lucretius 227 Lycambes 21 Lycophron 144 Lyrik und Lyriker, Werner's 1 Lysias 103 Lysistrata 72, 270, 272, 282 Lysistrata, Aristophanes' 40, 40n., 72, 202, 209, 212, 236, 250, 270, 271, 278 Lysistrata, Rogers' edition 40 n., 72 n. Macbeth, Lady 295 McMahon 4, 411., 6, 6n., 7, 7n., 8n., 11, nn., I4n., 16, i6n., 63, 6311. Magnes 28, 150, 161, 172 Mahaffy 3 Malade Imaginaire, Le, Mo- Here's 177, 194, 209, 231, 238, 243, 244, 253, 254, 256, 261, 265, 267, 268, 271, 273, 274, 276, 278, 279, 282, 286 Malvolio 261, 269, 275 Manutius, Aldus 39 n., 40 Margites, Homeric 132, 172, 174. 175 Margoliouth 301 Maricas, Eupolis' 28, 156 Marsyas 240 Martine 237, 281 Mascarille 273 Maslow 103 n. Matthew, Book of 245 Maximes du Marriage, Les 268 Mazon 56, 56n., 57-59, 59n. Measure for Measure, Shake- speare's 232 M&decin Malgrb Lui, Le, Mo- liere's 238, 241, 242, 249, 258, 262, 263, 265, 273, 275, 279, 282 Megara 162, 172, 282 Megarian, the 244 Meineke 18, 30, 3on., 31, 32 n., 39, I45n., 150, I52n., I58n., I59n., i6on., 287n. Melampus 51, 85 Meletus 157 Memnon 242 Menaechmi, Plautus' 190 Menander 23, 24, 27, 35, 36, 41, 44, 48, 59, 71, 90, 192, 193, 198, 209, 244, 268, 272 285, 286 Menander, Comparison between Aristophanes and, Plutarchian 35. 90 Menedemus 268 Meno 101 Mephistopheles 255 Meredith 80, 8on., 81 Merope 291 Merry Wives of Windsor, The, Shakespeare's 230, 244, 254 Metaphysics, Aristotle's 7, 112, 153. 154. 154 °- 155. i55n.,29° Meteorologica, Aristotle's 150, i5on. Meton 247, 264 Midas 234, 288 Middle Ages 3 Middle Comedy 12, 19, 23, 25- 27, 27n., 31, 32, 34, 36, 37. 41, 48, 71, 122, 124, I49n., 193, 212, 272, 285-287 Middleton 234 Midsummer-Night's Dream, A, Shakespeare's 229, 235-237, 241, 242, 246, 249, 256, 258 Miller gin. Mimes 20, 38, 101-102, 102 n., 103, io8n., 112, 132, 168, 169, 228 INDEX 317 Mimus, Der, Reich's i, 102 n., 108 n. Misanthrope, Le, Moliere's 286 Misch 1 Mnesilochus 238, 272, 278 Moliere (see also Amour Mide- cin, Amphitryon, Avare, Bour- geois Gentilhomme, Critique de l'£.cole des Femmes, Don Juan, licole des Femmes, Mourdi, Facheux, Femmes Savantes, Malade Imaginaire, Medecin Malgri Lui, Misan- thrope, Monsieur de Pour- ceaugnac, Tartuffe) 15, 1511., 44, 8082, 171, 177, 189, 191, 195, 196, 198, 205, 206, 208, 209, 220, 231, 242, 245, 246, 252, 256, 258, 261, 262, 265, 267, 271, 274, 280, 282, 286 Momax 234, 288 Monsieur de Pourceaugnac, Mo- liere's 244, 261, 262, 265, 273, 2 75> 279, 280, 282 Moonshine 237 Moriarty 68 Moses 234 Much Ado about Nothing, Shake- speare's 246, 248, 258, 268, 273. 274 Mufti, the 254 Muses, the 273 * Music,' in L 'Amour Medecin 81 Mustard-seed 236 Myrrhina 270, 278 Mysians, Philoxenus' 131 Mysteriis, De, ( ?) Iamblichus' 82, 83n. Naegele 40 n. Nature, On, Parmenides' 227 Nauck 137 n. Naxos 256 Nemesis 260 Nemesis, Cratinus' 260 Nerine 273, 275, 282 New Comedy 12, 16, 19, 23, 26-28, 34, 36, 37, 89-91, 187, 192, 193, 212, 226, 241, 251, 259, 265, 272, 285-288, 305 New Greek Comedy, The (see also Legrand) 1 Nicochares 33, 150, 161, 170 Nicomachean Ethics, Aristotle's 7, 9. 13. *°. 19. 2°. 23, 25, 30, 31, 65, 69, 70, io2n., 117, H7n., 118-120, i2on., 122, 133. 134. I341-, 139, 154. I54n., 160, i6on., 162, i62n., 163, i65n., 176, 231, 259, 260, 262, 263 Nicon 146 Nightingale 73, 231, 235 ' Ninny ' 235, 236 Ninus 236 Nym 256 Odysseus 143, 175, 190, 191, 204, 243, 294-297, 301-303, 3°5 Odysseus with the False Tidings 297-303 Odyssey 61, 91, 132, 14m., 171, 175, 189-191, 197, 201, 211, 216, 217, 223, 228, 296, 302, 303 Oedipodia, Meletus' 157 Oedipus 33, 291, 292 Oedipus the King, Sophocles' 27, 40, 54, 71, 14m., 172, 187, 191, 228 Officiis, De, Cicero's 39n., gin., Ogle 163 n. Old Comedy 12, 16, 2on., 21, 23, 24, 26-28, 34, 35-37. 39-4L 47. 49, 55. 72, 74. 75. 90-92, 97, 102, 122, 124, 125, 143, I48n., I49n., 152, I52n., 192, 226, 252, 259, 260, 264, 268, 285-288 Olympiodorus 38, 112 Olympus 257 On Comedy, Theophrastus' 127 On Nature, Parmenides' 267 On Pleonasm, Aristotle's, not the Stagirite 127 On Poetry, Democritus' 126 On Poets, Aristotle's dialogue 8, 14, 15, 101, 204 On Rhythms and Harmony, De- mocritus' 126 3i8 INDEX On Style, Demetrius,' see De Elocutione. On Style, Theophrastus' 127 On the Art of Poetry, Aristotle's, not the Stagirite 127 On the Art of Poetry, Theo- phrastus' 127 On the Choral Dancer, Antiphon's 161 On the Laughable, Greek and Latin books 89, 93, 94 On the Laughable, Theophrastus' 127 Oracle-monger 264 Orator, Cicero's 88 n., 92 n., 100 n. Oratore, De, Cicero's 88n., 89n., 289 Oresteia, Aeschylus' 277 Orestes 61, 150, 201, 294, 299 Orestes, Alexis' 31, 150, 192 Orestes, Euripides' 86 Orgon 205, 274 Origin of Attic Comedy, The, Cornford's 44 Oronte 275 Oxford translation of Aristotle 12m., 13m., I45n., 16m., 162 n. Page, Anne 254 Palamedes 160 Pan 145 Panaetius 89, 98 Pancratiastes, Philemon's 34, 35 Pantacles 161 Panza, Sancho 263 Paphlagon 260, 278 Papinian 281 Paris 75 Parmenides 227 Parnassus 190, 273 Parthey 83 n. Partibus Animalium, De, Aris- totle's 163, i63n. Pasias 274 Pastoral Drama, Greg's 1 Paul Castre 281 Pauson 129, 169, 221 Peace, Aristophanes' 28, 58, 157. r 73. 213, 234, 241, 242, 245, 251, 271 Pedro, Don 257, 258 Peer Gynt, Ibsen's 255 Peer Gynt Suite, Grieg's 255 Pegasus 242, 245 Peisthetaerus 193, 196, 200, 203, 231, 241, 245, 264, 267, 270-272, 274, 280, 283 Peleus 33 Peloponnese 172 Peloponnesian war 24, 287 Penelope 61, 296, 297, 302, 303, 3°5 Peparethia, ( ?) Antiphanes' 34, 149, 14911- Percy 244 Pericles 129, 159, 242, 251, 260 Perinthia 149 n. Peripatetics 13, 14, 16, 48, 64 Persia 229 Persian war 227 Phaedo, Plato's 103, 105, 105 n., 106, 113, 231 Phaedrus, Plato's 42 n., 99 n., 103, 113, H3n., 276 Pharaoh 270 Pharsalia, Lucan's 227 Pheidippides 280 Pherecrates 120 ' Phibbus ' 237 Phido 33 Philaminte 256, 281 Philammon 148, 149 Philebus, Plato's n, 66, 79, 100, 114-116, n6n., 127, 134 Philemon, actor 160 Philemon, comic poet 23, 24, 34, 35. 41. 4 8 Philippus 31, 32, 151, 159, I59n. Philocleon 262, 278 Philoctetes 165 Philologus I07n., 2ogn. Philomela 26 Philosophical Review 42 n. Philoxenus 131, 151, 170, 171 Phlya 231 Phoebus 237 Phoenicides 33 Phoenissae, Strattis' 158 n. INDEX 319 Phormis 28, 49, 112, 150, 161, 177 Phorcides, Aeschylus' 139, 228 Photius 159 Phrynichus 253 Physica Auscultatio, Aristotle's 51, 143, 14311., 149, 14911., 15811., 247 Physiologus 242 Picardy 282 Pindar 145 Pirates, chorus of 255 Pirates of Penzance, Gilbert and Sullivan's 255 Pistol 236 Placidus 95 Plain Style in the Scipionic Circle, Fiske's 89 n. Plato, comic poet 29, 33, 105, 112, H3n., 151, 158, I58n. Plato, philosopher (see also Dialogues, and Apology, First Alcibiades, Euthydemus, Gorgias, Ion, Laws, Phaedo, Phaedrus, Philebus, Protag- oras, Republic, Symposium, Theaetetus) 5, 7, 11, 20, 21, 26, 29, 38, 39, 42, 66, 76, 79, 80, 83, 84, 90-92, 97-99, 99 n., 100-102, 102 n., 104, I04n., 105, iosn., 107-109, 111-114, n6n., 121-123, 125-127, I29n., 131, 134, 151, I52n„ i55n-. 157. i58n., 169, 187, 240, 263, 276 Platonis Rem Publicam, In, Proclus Diadochus' 85 n. Platonius 23, 37, 37 n. Piatt I45n. Plautus 27 n., 44, 50, 91, 97, 187, 189, 193, 196, 198, 206, 209, 212, 244, 265, 305 Pleonasm, On, Aristotle's, not the Stagirite 127 Plutarch 35, 90 Plutus 196, 205, 207, 229, 272 Plutus, Aristophanes' 22, 24, 40, 47, 50, 58, 68, 171, 189, 193, 196-198, 205, 207, 208, 210, 229, 233, 250, 253, 272, 278, 284, 285 Plutus, Rogers' edition 23 n., 24n., 253 Poet, in the Birds 259, 264 Poetics, Aristotle's. References to the work are omitted ; but see ' Amplified Version,' An- ti-Atticist, Arabic version, Butcher, Bywater, Gudeman, Iamblichus, McMahon, Mar- goliouth, Proclus, Rutherford, Starkie, Vahlen. Poetry, On, Democritus' 126 Poets, On, Aristotle's dialogue 8, 14, 15, 101, 204 Poiesis, Antiphanes' 32 Poiesis, Aristophanes' 32, 40 Poietai, Alexis' 32 Poietai, Plato's, the comic poet 33 Poietes, Biottus' 33 Poietes, Nicochares' 33 Poietes, Phoenicides' 33 Poietes,Plato's,the comic poet 33 Poietria, Alexis' 32 Poins 229, 270, 273, 275, 279 Polichinelle 194, 253, 279 Politics, Aristotle's 5, 9, 12, 13 n„ 19, 20, 29, 30, 34, 43, 63, 64, 70, 104, in, 123, 125, I25n., 128, I28n., 129, I29n., 130, 131, 13m., 152, I52n., I57n-, 162, i62n., 180, 283 Polonius 248, 262 Polybus 141, 291 Polygnotus 129, 169 Polyidus 42 n. Polymachaeroplagides 212 Polyphemus 131, 171, 175 Pompey 232 Porson 238, 239 Poseidon 251, 270 Potamii, Strattis' 158 n. Potiphar 304 Potiphar's wife 304 Pourceaugnac, Monsieur de, Moliere's, see Monsieur de Pourceaugnac. Pourceaugnac, Monsieur de (the hero) 244, 261, 262, 273, 275, 279, 280, 282 320 INDEX Poverty 210 Praeses 271 Prat, Mother 244 Praxagora 272 Prescott 48, 4811., 71 n. Pre-Socratics 98, 277 Priest, in the Birds 264 Prince Hal 240, 244, 249, 269, 270, 273, 275, 279, 281 Problems, Aristotle's 69, 155, I55n., 163, i63n., 164, i64n., 165, i65n., 231 Proclus Diadochus 64, 83-85, 85 n., 90 Prometheus 250, 251 Prometheus Bound, Aeschylus' 301 Protagoras 126 Protagoras, Plato's 103, 276 Protarchus 114 Proverbs, Zenobius' 157 n., 159 Pseudartabas 213, 229, 244, 278, 283 Pseudolus, Plautus' 212 Psychologie du Hire, Dugas' 65n., 78n. Puck 249 Pun in the Rhetoric of Aristotle, A, Cooper's 36n., I47n. Pyramus 235 Pythagoras 269 Quasimodo 261 Quickly (Hostess) 234, 237, 239, 249 Quilp 261 Quince 229, 236, 237, 246 Quintilian 36, 36n., 39, 3gn., 41, 92, 92 n., 93-96, 96n. Quixote, Don 216, 263 Rabelais I5n., 231, 247, 257 Radermacher 96 n. Raphael 170 Rebuffe 281 Reich 1, 102 n., 108 n. Renaissance 3, 7, 3on., 190, 198 Republic, Plato's 5, 7, 38, 83-85, 85n., 101, 104, 106, 107, I07n., 108, io8n., 109, iogn., 111, 113, 121, 122, 127, 131, 13m., 187, 276 Restoration comedy 25 Rhadamanthus 160 Rhetoric, Aristotle's 3, 5, 8, 9, 10, 12, 13, I3n., 14, 16, 17, 21 n., 26n., 29, 30, 3on., 34, 36, 40, 49, 54, 62, 66, 66n., 69, 87, gin., 96, 105, iosn., n6n., 123, I23n., 124, I24n., 125, I25n., 127, I32n., 133- 135, I35n- 136-138, I38n., 139, 140, 141, 14m., 142, I42n., 143, I43n„ 144, I44n., 145, I45n., 146, 147, I47n., 148, 149, I49n., 152, I52n., 153. I53H., 155, 156, I56n., 158, I58n., 160, i6on., 209, 227, 230, 231, 235, 236, 239, 263, 265, 266, 273, 283 Rhetorik derGriechen und Romer, Volkmann's 259 Rhythms and Harmony, On, Democritus' 126 Richard II, Shakespeare's 229 Richter 80 Ring and the Booh, The, Brown- ing's 238 Rivals, The, Sheridan's 271 Roberts 103, 103 n., 149 n. Rogers 23 n., 24, 24n., 28n., 39n., 40, 4on., 50, 5on., 72, 7 2n -. 73. 73 n -. 2 29, 232, 253, 259, 282, 283 Rohde 1, 3 Roman Comedy, The Interpre- tation of, Prescott's 48 n. Roman satirists 97 Romans, the 96 Rome 89 Rose I3n., loon., ioin., I50n., I56n., I57n., is8n., I59n., 161 n. Ross 12m., 13m., 16m., 162 n., 163 n. Rostand 208, 240 Rutherford 6, 6n., 11, nn., 15, 16, 30, 36, 50, son., i47n., 236 Sampson Stockfish 256 Sancho Panza 263 Sandys I2n., 14m., i52n., i6on. INDEX 321 Satiromastix, Dekker's 273 Satires, Horace's 86n., 97, 9911. Sausage-seller 213, 257, 278 Savages (Ay owe), Pherecrates' 120 Sbrigani 244, 273, 275 Scaliger 3 Scipio 95 Scolion, Aristotle's 13, 227 Scythian 252, 253, 272, 283 Secunda Pastorum 234 Self- Tormentor, Terence's 268, 272, 285, 305 Sensu, De, Aristotle's 29, 158, I58n. '.Serapion ' 95 Servingman, First 245, 246, 258 Servingman, Second 245, 246, 258 Sexton 274 Sganarelle, in Moliere's Don Juan 246, 262, 267 Sganarelle, in Le Midecin Mal- gri Lui 238, 241, 242, 249, 258, 262, 263, 265, 273, 275, 279 Shakespeare (see also As You Like It, Comedy of Errors, Coriolanus, Hamlet, 1 Henry IV, 2 Henry IV, Henry V, Measure for Measure, Merry Wives of Windsor, Midsum- mer-Night's Dream, Much A do about Nothing, Richard II, Taming of the Shrew, Twelfth- Night, Two Gentlemen of Ve- rona, Tempest) 15, 15 n., 25, 40, 44, 75, 80, 168, 190, 197, 205, 206, 208, 231, 232, 238, 240, 242, 245, 252, 254, 261, 262, 268, 275, 282, 283, 286, 3°5 Shakespearean Tragedy, Brad- ley's 2 Shallow 256 Shamartabas (see also Pseud- artabas) 244 Shelley 100, loon., 228 Sheridan 270, 271 Shorey 49 n. Shute 7 Sicily 48, 49, 71, 112, 172, 177 Sicyonians 172 Signieur Dew 236 Sidney 71 n„ 72 n. Silenus 240 Simmias 126, I26n. Simon 126, I26n. Simonides 152 n., 155, 230, 251 Sir Thopas, Chaucer's Tale of 257 Sir Topas 244, 275 Sir Vaughan 273 Sire-striker 264, 280 Skogan 256 Sly 242, 256 Smith, J. A. I45n., i63n. Socrates 2 1 , 3 8, 42, 75, 9 1 , 96, 97, 100-102, 104, 105, 107-109,- 111-114, n6n., 119, 122, 124, 126, 127, 131, 151, 193, 231, 235, 239, 240, 241, 244-248,; 250, 251, 257, 260, 261, 263/ 267, 278, 288 ' Socratic conversations ' 100, 101, 102, 168, 169 Socratics, the 89 Solinus, Duke 205, 281 Solomon, J. 12m. Solon 12, 227, 280 Sophisticis Elenchis, De, Aris- totle's 35, 46, 231 Sophists 251 Sophocles 1, 15, 23, 24, 27, 28, 30, 37. 39-41. 4 8 . 7i. 86, 103, 141, 142, 172, 187, 191, 228, 251, 255, 28on., 283, 292 Sophron38, 100, 101, 102, I02n., 103, io8n., 138, 151, 168, 228 Sovereignty, Lady 73, 257, 280, 283 Sparta 212, 241, 270, 271, 282 Speed 238 Spencer 77 Spengel i58n., i6on. Spenser 170 Speusippus 26, 126, I26n. Sphinx 291, 292 ' Spinther ' 95 Starkie 6, 6n., 15, I5n., r6, 2gn., 30, 36, 44, losn., H3n., 231, 234, 235, 238-240, 242, 244-246, 250, 252, 256 322 INDEX Stobaeus n6n. Stockfish 256 Stoics 97, 98 Storks, Aristophanes' 28, 157 Strabo n6n. Strattis 28, 29, 34, 151, 158, 15811., 260 Strepsiades 141 n., 242, 244, 246-248, 257, 262, 274, 289 Strobilus 196 Strymodore 231 Stubbs 263 Style, On, Demetrius,' see De Elocutione. Style, On, Theophrastus' 127 Sullivan 255 Summoner's Tale, Chaucer's 276 Suppliant Maidens i6on. Susarion 37, 288 Swift 206, 231, 240, 245 Symposium, Plato's 29, 38, ggn., 103, 107, 108, in, 113, H3n., 114, H4n., 123, 126, 169, 240 Syracuse 39, 281 Syriac version of the Poetics 302 Talkover (see also Peisthetaerus) 193 Taming of the Shrew, The, Shakespeare's 242, 256 Tarn O' Shanter, Burns' 255 Tartuffe 171, 177, 205, 220, 265, 281 Tartuffe, Moliere's 191, 195, 208, 220, 274, 281, 286 Taylor, Jeremy 39 Tempest, The, Shakespeare's 27, 168, 235, 236, 242, 249, 254, 275, 286 Temples Revels 273 Tennyson 170 Terence 27n., 35, 44, 50, 71, 91, 187, 189, 193, 244, 265, 268, 281, 285, 305 Terpander i57n. Teucer 33 Teucer, Sophocles' 142 Theaeietus, Plato's in, 112a., 151. i55«i. Thebes 292 Thelema 231 Theocritus 171 Theodectes 165 Theodorus 146, I46n., 147 Theogony, Hesiod's 227 ' Theolus ' 237 Theophrastus 13, 14, 48, 89, 121, 122, 127 Theorus 237 Thersites 171 Thesaurochrysonicochrysides 212 Theseid 189 Theseus 189 Thesmophoriazusae, Aristopha- nes' 238, 244, 252, 272, 273, 276, 278, 283 Thisby 237 ' Thisne ' 237 Thopas, Sir, Chaucer's Tale of 257 Thrasippus 152, 162 Timotheus 131, 170 Tiresias 291, 292 Titania 236, 242, 256 Toinette 238, 244, 265, 273, 274, 279 Tom Jones, Fielding's 207, 215, 216 Tongue 257 Topas, Sir 244, 275 Topica, Aristotle's 143, 143 n. Touchstone 248, 266, 268, 269 Towneley Secunda Pastorum 234 Trackers, Sophocles' 228 Tractate ( Tractatus Coislini- anus) 6, 8, 10-18, 23, 30, 36, 42, 44, 50, 55, 64, 69-71, 75, 82, 87, 89, 91, 92 96. 118, 122, 138-140, 151, 177, 202, 211, 224-286, 289 Triballian 121, 251, 281, 283 Trinummus, Plautus' 190, 198 Trissotin 256, 259 Trolls 255 Troy 242 True History, Lucian's 245 Trygaeus 242, 245 Tucca 273 Turc, le Grand 256 Turkish 282 INDEX 323 Turks 253, 254, 265, 282 Twelfth Night, Shakespeare's 244, 268, 269, 275 Twiller, Van 247, 276 Two Gentlemen of Verona, Shake- speare's 232, 238 Tzetzes 36, 37, 3711., 51, 5m., 86, 90, 91, 231, 234, 240, 241, 244. 247, 259, 287-289 Ulpian 281 Ulysses the False Messenger, see Odysseus with the False Tid- ings. Unjust Reason (Worser Reason) 50, 280 Uranie 81 Urkunden Dramatischer Auf- filhrungen, Wilhelm's 22 n. Usener 26 n. Vahlen 5, 11, nn., 133, 228 n., 299 Valere, in L'Avare 241 Valere, in Le Midecin Malgri Lui 279 Van Leeuwen 72 Van Twiller 247, 276 Varro 198 Vaugelas 281 Vaughan, Sir 273 Verges 248, 252 Veterum Arte Poetica Quaesti- ones Selectae, De, Kayser's 11, nn. Victorius 141 n. Virgil 30, 187 Vita Arisiophanis 23 n. Volkmann 259 Vortr&ge und Aufsatze, Usener's 27 Voyage to Laputa, Swift's 231, 245 Wachsmuth n6n. Walpurgisnacht 255 Wandle 247 Warner 49 n. Wasps, Aristophanes' 173, 231, 237. 240, 253, 255, 260, 262, 274, 278 Wasps, Roger's edition 253 Wasps, chorus of 253 Watch, Second, in Much Ado 248 Watson 92 n. Welldon 62n., H7n., i2on., I34n., 14411., i6on., i62n., i65n. Welch 73 Welsh 283 Werner 1 When did Aristophanes Die? Kent's 22 n. White 199 Wilamowitz 22 n. Wilhelm 22 n. Windsor Paik 254 Wine-jar 241, 250 Wit and its Relation to the Un- conscious, Freud's 77, 77n. Woman, First, in Thesmophoria- zusae 278 Wooden Horse 204, 242 Wordsworth, C. 39 Wordsworth, W. 30, 227 Works and Days, Hesiod's 227 Wycherley 25 Xanthias 196, 197, 207, 210, 240, 241, 245, 249, 269, 270, 274, 276, 277, 289 Xenarchus 32, 100, 102, 151, 168, 228 Xenocrates 126, I26n. Xenophanes 155, 219 Xenophantus 165, i6sn. Xerxes 144 Zeno, of Elea 101 Zeno, the Stoic 98 Zenobius i57n., 159 Zeus 235, 236, 241, 242, 250, 251, 260, 269, 270, 280, 288 Zielinski 44, 45, 49, 490-, 55, 55n- 56, 58 Zwei Abhandlungen, Bernays'