TRANSLATION 
 
 | ARISTOTLE'S POETICS, 
 
 
 WITH 
 
 VD ANALYSIS. 
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 C. K. OGDEN
 
 ARISTOTLE'S 
 
 POETICS.
 
 ARISTOTLE's 
 
 LITERALLY TRANSLATED, 
 
 EXPLANATORY NOTES, 
 
 AN ANALYSIS. 
 
 LONDON: 
 
 PRINTED FOR G. & W. B. WHITTAKER, 
 
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 1819.
 

 
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 Annex 
 
 PREFACE. 
 
 THE following translation of Aristotle's Poetics is 
 intended solely for the use of Students. The chief 
 object which it has in view, is a strict adherence 
 to the original, for the attainment of which, the 
 English idiom is frequently, nay generally sacri- 
 ficed. It is very obvious that this circumstance 
 must render it a work of no elegance, but it was 
 never intended to be such. It was written for the 
 express purpose of assisting those, who might be 
 desirous of reading the book, for their instruc- 
 tion, both in the language and matter ; and this 
 end is most readily attained by attending to the 
 exact meaning of every word in the original, ra- 
 ther than by giving what is called a free transla- 
 tion, that the sentences may be neatly rounded. 
 
 It sometimes happens, from the extreme precise- 
 ness of Aristotle's language, that the insertion of 
 some words which are not to be found in the 
 Greek, is absolutely necessary, to render the au- 
 thor's meaning at all perspicuous. Such words 
 will be found printed in Italics, so that the reader,
 
 Yi PREFACE. 
 
 by leaving them out, may perceive the very ex- 
 pression which Aristotle employs. 
 
 In some places, where a close adherence to the 
 original has rendered the meaning obscure, the 
 reader will find it more fully explained in the 
 notes ; and in others, where a strict verbal transla- 
 tion would have been nonsense, the sense is ex- 
 pressed in the text, and the literal translation is 
 given in the notes. Utility is the object of this 
 work, and on the whole it is hoped, that it will 
 accomplish that object. If so, as no attempt at 
 elegance was ever made, no apology will be of- 
 fered for the clumsy, and sometimes inidomatic 
 language in which it is written. 
 
 To render its usefulness as complete as possible, 
 a brief Analysis of the whole book is subjoined. 
 
 Analysis. r fhe various kinds of poetry, as well as some 
 airs adapted to the flute and harp, are all imita- 
 tion, expressed by melody, rythm, and harmony. 
 They differ from one another in three particulars, 
 namely, in the nature of the instruments which 
 they employ, and of the objects which they imi- 
 tate, and in the manner in which that imitation is 
 expressed. Music imitates by melody and rythm, 
 dancing by rythm alone, and epepeia by conversa- 
 tion in verse or prose. To the word epepeia an 
 extended sense is given, as it is applied to poems 
 of any sort, though in Aristotle's days, men had 
 classed poets according to the verse in which they 
 wrote. Dithyrambics, nomes, tragedy and come- 
 dy, make use of all the three modes of imitation.
 
 PREFACE. vii 
 
 Poetry, as well as painting, must in its imita- 
 tion represent men, as better or worse, or in the 
 same state with ourselves ; and this constitutes the 
 difference between tragedy and comedy, as fhe 
 first represents them as better, the last, as worse. 
 There were two causes which gave birth to poetry, 
 both of which were natural, viz. the desire of imi- 
 tation, and the love of harmony. Poetry there- 
 fore, which consisted originally of extemporaneous- 
 effusions, was gradually improved upon, and as- 
 sumed a grave or satirical nature, according to the 
 dispositions of those, who made it their study ; 
 whence some of the ancients became epic, and 
 others iambic poets. 
 
 Homer was the first who gave a form to come- 
 dy, and this he does in his Margeites. Some time 
 after, those who had turned their attention to the 
 composition of iambic poems, became writers of 
 comedy, and those who had preferred epic poems, 
 became writers of tragedy, the latter having pre- 
 viously been the inventors of dithyrambics, and 
 the former of obscene songs. ^Eschylus was the 
 first who introduced a second character, and short- 
 ened the songs of the chorus ; and Sophocles af- 
 terwards made the number of speakers three. The 
 iambic measure likewise, came to be exclusively 
 adopted in such compositions. Comedy is the imi- 
 tation of what is ludicrous in the vile, that is, of 
 some error, or deformity which occasions no se- 
 rious pain. Its history has been overlooked, be-
 
 Yin PREFACE. 
 
 cause it was not from the first a subject of serious 
 study. 
 
 Epic poetry resembles tragedy, inasmuch as it is 
 an imitation in verse, of men in high stations, but 
 differs from it because it employs but one kind of 
 metre, and is besides a mere narration. They 
 differ, likewise, in length, tragedy being confined 
 to the occurrences of one day, epic poetry includ- 
 ing an indefinite space of time. Tragedy is the 
 imitation of a noble and perfect action, which is 
 of a proper magnitude, expressed in agreeable 
 language, possessing a distinctness of pleasure, 
 produced by action, not by narrative, and purify- 
 ing the passions by means of fear and pity. Its 
 parts, from which it derives its quality, are six, 
 namely, the story, the manner, the discourse, the 
 sentiment, the scenery, and the melody. Of these, 
 the story, or the connection of the actions, is of 
 the first importance. Next comes manner, be- 
 cause it is always the cause of action ; then senti- 
 ment, because by it, the actors make an enuncia- 
 tion ; then discourse, which is the explanation of 
 our meaning in words ; then melody, because it is 
 most productive of pleasure ; and lastly scenery. 
 
 The story must be the imitation of an entire ac- 
 tion, neither too long nor too short. If it be too 
 long, the beginning is forgotten, before the end is 
 learnt ; and if too short, it must be rendered weak, 
 aud loose its unity, by the insertion of many epi-
 
 PREFACE. ix 
 
 sodes. The greater it is, however, as long as it 
 retains its perspicuity, the better. It possesses 
 unity, not if it relate the adventures of some indi- 
 vidual, but if it choose for its subject, one single 
 action of that individual, and so arrange it, that 
 by the removal or alteration of any one part, the 
 whole story will be changed. The poet must not 
 confine himself to truth, but only to verisimilitude. 
 And this it is which constitutes the difference be- 
 tween poetry and history that the one treats of 
 general principles, and the other of particular ac- 
 tions. It is not even necessary that the tragedy 
 be founded on traditionary stories but it may be 
 and although the poet may relate what has really 
 happened, he is, nevertheless, the author of that 
 action. 
 
 Those simple stories are the worst, which are 
 interspersed with many episodes. Those again 
 are best adapted for tragedy, which relate a conse- 
 quence of actions which is contrary to expectation, 
 and the occurrence of fortuitous events in such a 
 manner, as that they appear to have in them some- 
 thing of design. Of stories, some are simple and 
 others complex. Simple are those which are car- 
 ried through, without any peripatie or recognition ; 
 and complex, those which possess one or both of 
 these. Peripatie is the probable or necessary 
 change of an action to its opposite ; and recog- 
 nition, the change from ignorance to knowledge, 
 which produces either friendship or animosity be- 
 tween the persons doomed to happiness or misery.
 
 x PREFACE. 
 
 Of this latter, the best kind is when it takes place 
 at the same moment of time with the peripatie, 
 because recognitions may be occasioned by the 
 sight of inanimate objects, or by accidental occur- 
 rences. Besides these, passion also has reference 
 to the subject of the story. By passion is meant 
 the performance of any action which will occasion 
 pain or death. 
 
 The parts of tragedy according to its quantity 
 are, prologue, episode, exode, and chorus. The 
 prologue is that part of the tragedy, which pre- 
 cedes the parodus of the chorus ; the episode, that 
 which is between the entire songs of the chorus j 
 and the exode, that, after which there is no song 
 of the chorus. Of the* chorus there are two parts 
 the parodus, and the stasimon. The parodus 
 is the first speech of the whole chorus, and the 
 stasimon is the song which is without anapaeste 
 and trochseus. The commus again, is the weep- 
 ing on the stage of both players and chorus. 
 
 The story of a man who is conspicuous neither 
 for his virtue nor his vice, but who falls from a 
 state of happiness to one of misery, from some great 
 error, and no crime, is the best suited to tragedy. 
 In the opinion of some, the story of a tragedy ought 
 to be complex, of others, simple. These latter say 
 likewise, that the change should be from good to 
 bad fortune. Fear and pity ought to arise out of 
 the connection of events, that is, the story ought 
 to be of such a nature, that the bare repetition of it,
 
 PREFACE. xi 
 
 without the aid of scenery or acting, should excite 
 feelings of dread and compassion. These passions 
 are excited by the conduct of a friend towards a 
 friend, an enemy towards an enemy, or of indiffe- 
 rent persons towards each other. The two latter, 
 however, are either matters of perfect indifference, 
 or such as do not rouse those feelings in a suffi- 
 cient degree. The first therefore is that which tra- 
 gedians ought to describe. The modes of describ- 
 ing it also are various. The agent is represented 
 as possessed of knowledge at the time he acts, or 
 as acting first, and then making a discovery, which 
 either forms a part of the piece, or is related as 
 having happened ; or as intending to do some in- 
 expiable deed, and making a discovery before it 
 is done. The last of these methods is to be pre- 
 ferred. 
 
 With respect to the manner which an author 
 gives to his characters, he must take care that it be 
 useful, becoming, like, and equal. The unravel- 
 ling of the plot, likewise, must proceed from the 
 story, and machinery be used only when relating 
 those circumstances which form no part of the re- 
 presentation ; and no action must appear to be with- 
 out an object. Recognition may be produced in 
 various ways. First, by certain marks which the 
 person is supposed to have upon his body either 
 naturally, or accidentally ; secondly, by causes which 
 the poet has himself invented ; thirdly, by the ex- 
 citement of any recollection ; and fourthly, by the 
 force of inference. It may also be brought about
 
 xii PREFACE. 
 
 by causes which deceive the audience, but the bet 
 manner of effecting it, is by the chain of events. 
 
 In connecting his story and polishing his lan- 
 guage, the poet ought frequently to ask himself the 
 reason for such and such actions, by which means 
 he will be less likely to permit errors of any kind 
 to pass uncorrected. The player also should at- 
 tend to his gestures and tone of voice, so as to 
 adapt them to the passion which he intends to re- 
 present. It would be well, therefore, if the poet 
 were first to draw a general outline of his story, 
 and afterwards fill it up. 
 
 Every tragedy is composed of a plot and an un- 
 ravelling. The plot comprehends all those events 
 which have taken place before the period of the 
 plays commencement, and from that commence- 
 ment until the change begins to take place. The 
 unravelling, all that follows. There are four kinds 
 of tragedy, complex, pathetic, moral, and that 
 which has its scene in Hades. In writing, care 
 should be taken that both the plot and unravelling 
 be properly conducted, and that the play do not 
 resemble an epic composition. And this will be 
 the case if a subject be chosen which comprehends 
 under it too many stories. The chorus likewise 
 should be considered as part of the company of 
 performers, and their songs ought always to have 
 reference to the subject of the piece. 
 
 Sentiment, as it belongs to the art of reasoning,
 
 PREFACE. xiii 
 
 is explained in the treatise upon rhetoric, and dis- 
 course which relates to the definition of command, 
 entreaty, interrogation, reply, and such like, must 
 be studied rather by the player than the poet. (Here 
 follows a definition of the various parts of speech.) 
 In defining noun, Aristotle tells us, that a proper 
 noun is one which belongs to a particular language ; 
 a foreign, one which is introduced into one lan- 
 guage from another ; metaphor, when a word is 
 used to express that which in its strict meaning it 
 could not express; invented, one which has received 
 no definite signification from any other person be- 
 sides the author; extended, when the word is length- 
 ened either by the addition of another syllable or 
 by changing a short vowel into a long ; diminished, 
 the reverse of this; and changed, when the author 
 retains part of a word already in use, and adds some- 
 tiling of his own. 
 
 The excellence of discourse is, that it be perspi- 
 cuous, without being mean, therefore great care is 
 necessary that a too frequent use be not made of 
 any one of these nouns, but that they be properly 
 intermixed, and used in their proper places. The 
 most important of all, however, is the right appli- 
 cation of metaphor. Double words agree best with 
 dithyrambics, foreign with heroic, and metaphor 
 with iambic verse. 
 
 An epic poem ought to resemble a tragedy, by 
 being the representation of a whole and perfect ac- 
 tion, with a beginning, a middle, and an end; and
 
 xiv PREFACE. 
 
 not, like history, to record the different events 
 which may have happened within any definite pe- 
 riod. Homer's Iliad and Odyssey are excellent 
 specimens, for their stories are in truth very short, 
 and adorned with many episodes. It ought like- 
 wise to be simple, complex, moral, or pathetic, and, 
 with the exception of music and scenery, its parts 
 ought to resemble those of a tragedy. But they 
 differ in the length of the compositions, and in the 
 measures which they employ. Epic poetry excels 
 tragedy in the facility with which it shifts its scene, 
 and introduces episodes. 
 
 Of all kinds of verse the heroic or hexameter is 
 best adapted for an epic poem, and a mixture of 
 those different kinds, is the least. Homer is parti- 
 cularly to be commended, because he appears him- 
 self to say little, but always introduces something 
 possessed of manner to speak for him, and because 
 every object which he presents, whether animate 
 or inanimate, possesses this quality. 
 
 The chief end of both tragedy and epic poetry 
 is to produce the wonderful, which the latter has 
 much greater facility of doing, because those things 
 may be related, with an appearance of probability, 
 which would not at all bear representation. Ho- 
 mer also has instructed writers in the best method 
 of telling lies, which is done by paralogism, or false 
 reasoning. In choosing incidents, those which are 
 perfectly impossible, and yet possess verisimilitude, 
 are preferable to those which are possible, though
 
 PREFACE. xv 
 
 not likely to gain belief. And care should be taken 
 that none be introduced which are without an ap- 
 parent reason. The language ought to be most 
 highly polished in those passages which exhibit 
 neither manner nor sentiment. 
 
 To the objections which are made to poetry* 
 namely, that it does not preserve a strict adherence 
 to nature, and such like, the answer is, that the 
 poet imitates like the painter, by preserving the 
 likeness, although he may flatter the original. 
 There are two faults to which poetry is liable 
 one, when it attempts to imitate things beyond its 
 stretch, and this is said to flow from itself an- 
 other, when the choice is improperly made, al- 
 though the subject be within its reach, which 
 proceeds from accident. It may offend likewise 
 against other arts, such as anatomy, &c. yet the 
 poet is to be excused, if by the commission of 
 these errors he attain the end he has in view, 
 namely, to make his narrative wonderful, which 
 could not have been otherwise accomplished. But 
 if this be not absolutely necessary, he is decidedly 
 wrong. 
 
 When a poet is accused of violating truth, he 
 must excuse himself by saying, that he means to 
 represent men either better or worse than they 
 really are, or that he relates what men currently 
 report ; and if it be said that he makes his cha- 
 racter speak or act improperly, he must advise the 
 critic to look to the peculiarity of circumstances.
 
 xvi PREFACE. 
 
 and the end to be attained. He may affirm also 
 that an expression is used in a foreign sense, or 
 metaphorically. He may alter the accent, or the 
 pointing, or he may give a double meaning to the 
 word objected to. When a word will bear two 
 opposite explanations, care must be taken in dis- 
 covering, how it is intended to be used in the ex- 
 pression before us. 
 
 Many critics condemn a work on account of any 
 contradiction there may be in it, to some prejudice 
 of their own ; in which case, that which is by them 
 put down as an error, is at most only a quaere. 
 When the critic declares that any thing is impos- 
 sible, we must defend it by saying, that in poetry, 
 the credible impossible is better than the possible 
 incredible, or that an example ought always to be 
 perfect of its kind. When he says that it is un- 
 reasonable, the answer is, that it is very reason- 
 able that many improbabilities should happen. 
 This unreasonableness however is bad, unless 
 there be an absolute necessity for it. 
 
 In describing the comparative excellence of epic 
 and tragic compositions, some men give a pre- 
 ference to the former. In it, they say, the poet is 
 better able to represent many things, as in the 
 act of going on at the same time, and it requires 
 no gestures nor outward aids to assist it. It is 
 adapted to the better kinds of auditors, and is 
 therefore itself superior, liut this is wrong, be- 
 cause the faults of gesture and scenery are not to
 
 PREFACE. xvi'f 
 
 be attributed to tragedy or its writers. Besides, 
 all motion is not improper, but only such as is 
 obscene ; and even without it, tragedy effects its 
 purpose as completely as epic poetry. It therefore 
 possesses every advantage which belongs to the 
 other, and has the peculiar power of producing 
 pleasure by means of scenery and music. Its imi- 
 tation likewise, is included within a shorter space, 
 and that which is most condensed is always most 
 agreeable. Its unity also is more complete, of 
 which we must be convinced if we observe, that 
 out of one epic poem, many tragedies may be 
 made. 
 
 Since then it excels in all these particulars, and 
 above all in the attainment of its end, it may be 
 pronounced to be altogether superior.
 
 ARISTOTLE'S 
 
 I. BEGINNING in a natural order, from first prin- 
 ciples, we will treat of poetry itself, and its differ- 
 ent kinds, and the particular force which each kind 
 possesses ; of the manner in which an author 
 ought to arrange his story> if the poem be in- 
 tended to be a good one ; of how many, and what 
 parts a poem ought to consist ; and likewise of 
 other matters ' which relate to that study. 
 
 II. Epic Poetry, and the composition of Tra- 
 gedy, as well as Comedy and Dithyrambics, * toge- 
 ther with most of those airs which are suited to 
 the flute and harp, are all, generally speaking, imi- 
 tation. They differ from one another in three par- 
 
 1 It is impossible to translate this literally. The Greek 
 words are of a, rnt etlrns if' (tiSfiiv : as many as belong to thii 
 method or arrangement. 
 
 1 Aristotle includes music under the head of poetry, because 
 it fs in fact a species of it. That poetry and music were es- 
 trrtned species of the same genus, is evident, from the same 
 (irepfc word being made use of to express both. He says most 
 au, because there are many tunes which certainly imitate no- 
 thing.
 
 2 AIUSTOTLL'S POETICS. 
 
 ticulars : the imitation is made, either by instru- 
 ments differing in their natures ; or the things 
 which they imitate are in themselves different ; or 
 the mode of imitation is different. 
 
 III. 3 For as in expressing resemblances, some 
 men imitate with colour and form, (some artifi- 
 cially, and some from habit) and others with the 
 voice ; so in the arts already mentioned, all of 
 them imitate by means of 4 rythm, discourse, and 
 harmony ; and these taken either separately, or 
 joined together. Airs played upon the flute or 
 harp, for example, or upon any other instrument 
 which may have the same effect such as the pipe, 
 make use only of harmony and rythm : but the 
 motions of dancers imitate by rythm without har- 
 mony j for by their figured cadences, (or rythms) 
 they represent manners, passions, and actions. 
 s Epic Poetry again, employs conversation, expressed 
 in prose or verse; either indiscriminately mixing 
 the various kinds of verse, or, as hath hitherto 
 been the ease, making use of one alone. Were it 
 
 3 Until the publication of Tyrwhitt's edition of the Poetics, 
 this pn.ssage was extremely difficult. The alteration which he 
 has made in the pointing, has rendered it much more intelligi- 
 ble, and seems to give to it the sense which we have adopted. 
 
 4 Rythm means here, no more than a measured cadence, or 
 regulated movement. Discourse applies either to verse or 
 prose ; and harmony signifies music aluuc. 
 
 5 To talk of an epic poem in prose, appears not a liille con- 
 tradictory ; yet why should it ? There are many romances, ivhirh 
 arc as much epic poems, ns if each line contained only a certain 
 number of feet : besides, the word is derived from nets, in the 
 Greek, which signifies a story, either in verse or prose.
 
 ARISTOTLE'S POETICS. 3 
 
 not so, we could not possibly class under the same 
 head, the farces of Sophron and Xenarchus, and 
 the dialogues of Socrates ; nor the works of him 
 who might express his imitations in iambic, ele- 
 giac, or any other kind of verse. 6 Men, it is true, 
 arranging poetry by its rythm, call some poets ele- 
 giac, and others epic ; bestowing this denomina- 
 tion upon them, not from the subjects which they 
 imitate, but from the metre which they make use 
 of: for even upon those who write treatises on 
 medicine, or natural philosophy, provided they be 
 composed in verse, this appellation is bestowed. 
 Between Homer and Empedocles, however, there is 
 nothing in common but the verse. The first, 
 therefore, may be justly called a poet, but the last, 
 a physiologist rather than a poet. In like manner, 
 if one, confusedly mixing together all kinds of 
 poetry, were to produce an imitation, as Chajremon 
 did in the Centaur, a mixed, rhapsody, written in 
 all kinds of verse, surely we ought not to call such 
 a man a poet. In this manner have we rendered 
 our meaning clear on these subjects. 
 
 There are some arts which employ all the in- 
 struments we have mentioned. I mean rythm, 
 melody, and measure. Such is the composition of 
 7 dithyrambics and nomes, tragedy and comedy. 
 
 6 It would appear from tliis, that all who wrote in hexame- 
 ters, were ilij-niii'-tl with the title cf epic poets; and that those 
 who composed in hexameter and pentameter alternately, were 
 called <-lcjfi;ic. 
 
 7 Ditliynunbics were hymns repeated in honour of Bacchus ; 
 Homes, ot' Apollo: butli were accompanied with shying and 
 dancing. There was this difference between them that the
 
 4 ARISTOTLE'S POETICS. 
 
 8 They differ, however, in the use of them, because 
 the two first bring them all into play, during the con- 
 tinuance of the whole, piece ; the two last, only at cer- 
 tain periods. These I call the differences of arts, 
 as far as relates to the means by which they express 
 imitation. 
 
 IV. But since those who express imitation, imi- 
 tate willing agents ; and since these must be 
 either virtuous or vicious, ( 9 for habits are gene- 
 rally attendant upon such alone ; and all men dif- 
 fer according as their habits incline to virtue or 
 vice), it becomes necessary that those should be 
 imitated, who are either better or worse than our- 
 selves ; or 10 whose habits resemble our own. Thus, 
 among painters, " Polygnotus made his likenesses 
 better than the originals Pauson worse and Dio- 
 
 first were very loud, and in the Phryifinn tone; tlie last soft, 
 and in the Lydiau. In tragedy and cunicdy, the dialogue wa 
 carried on in verse alone ; whilst in the chorus, the verse was 
 actrtnnp&nied with sing-ing 1 and dancing. 
 
 8 This, it will be perceived, is not translated literally, for 
 the obvious reason, sliat the meaning* of the author cuuld not be 
 sufficiently elucidated. 
 
 9 This is obvious enough; for habit, or manner, (9) can 
 only be |>rcdic:itrd of n willing-, or rather of a free agent ; and 
 it is but from their habits being 1 good or bad, that nif-u's cha- 
 racters are decided. We have rendered ir^mrrttrat willing 
 egents, to avoid any miuppreheotion of the epithet as now un- 
 derstood, when applied to agents. 
 
 10 JUS' r,^a ( . 
 
 11 Polygnotus was a native of the island of Thasus. Tie al- 
 ways chose viand subjects for his paintings, nnd executed them 
 well. Dioiiysjus of Colophon. They b >th lived in the liinu of 
 Xerxes :in<! Sophocleg. Pauson is supposed to have been an 
 inhabitant of Licyauia. He was the first who painted ceilings.
 
 ARISTOTLE'S POETICS. 5 
 
 nysius exactly the same. It is evident, indeed, 
 that each of the above mentioned modes of imita- 
 tion, will have this distinction ; and that they will 
 differ one from another, by their employing the 
 same mode of imitating things which are in them- 
 selve's different. These dissimilarities are discovered 
 to exist in dancing, in airs for the flute and for the 
 harp, as likewise in stories told either in prose or 
 verse. Thus Homer imitates men wlio were better 
 than ourselves Cleophon men who were like; but 
 Hegemon the Thasian, who first made parodies, 
 and Nichochures, who composed the Deliad, imi- 
 tated men who were worse. In this manner, like- 
 wise, may a poet express imitation in the use of 
 dithyrambics and nomes, " as Timotheus and Phi- 
 loxenus did in the Argaj and Cyclopae. In this 
 particular distinction does tragedy differ from co- 
 medy : namelji, it is the office of the one, to imi- 
 tate men who were worseof the other, those who 
 u-ere better than men of the present day. 
 
 V. 13 But among these there is a third difference, 
 
 12. It is very difficult to say what is the meaning of this pas- 
 , sage, but it appears to be as we have rendered it. Tiaiotheus 
 was a poet of Miletuin, who wrote a great many nomes and di- 
 thyrambics. The Greek word, which we have rendered Arg<e, 
 is in some editions *<$: this would make the passage mucl* 
 more plain, because IIP celebrated the victory of the Athenian* 
 over the Persians. Philoxenus was a famous ilithyrambie poet 
 who lived in Plato's time, and who satirized Dionysius the ty- 
 rant, in his Cyclops, under the name of Polyphemus. 
 
 13 Aristotle ha already taken notice of the subjects of imita- 
 tion, and of the instruments which are employed : and he now 
 proceeds to point out the different modes cf usiii '.host instru- 
 ments.
 
 6 AUISTOTLE'S POI-Tlcs 
 
 which consists in the mode in which a poet may 
 imitate each : for the same subjects may he imi- 
 tated by the same instruments, ' 4 as well when the 
 poet tells a story, (either acting some other person, 
 as Homer does, or remaining without change in 
 his own character) or when he introduces all the 
 parties imitated, as active and busy personages. 
 ' 5 . In these three particulars then, does imitation 
 differ, as we said at the beginning : in the instru- 
 ments which it employs, in the subjects which it 
 imitates, and in the mode of expressing that imita- 
 tion. In one point of view, therefore, Sophocles, 
 s\s an imitator, may be considered to resemble Ho- 
 mer ; because they both imitate men of high cha- 
 racter : in another, to resemble Aristophanes ; be- 
 cause they both imitate men who act their own 
 parts, ft was for this reason, some say, that such 
 writings as their's received the appellation of plays* 
 (Sgaaara) because they imitated (fywvT/xc) men 
 who act. Whence also the Dorians claim to them- 
 selves the invention of tragedy and comedy : the 
 Magarians, again, of Comedy, (both those of this 
 country, because democracy first began among 
 them ; and those in Sicily, because there Epichar- 
 
 14 This passage has much obscurity in it, but appears to 
 bear this meaning. In an epic poem,, the author sometimes r.-- 
 latos the ml venture* of another person; at others, is tbe hero 
 of his own story. In dithyramb!? poems, the, poet merely re- 
 peats a narrrative, and in tragedy and comedy, he never makes 
 his appearance at all : the players are the organs through which 
 h<- tells his story. 
 
 15 Literally : The imitation consists of, or it accompuu-ied 
 with, these three distinctions.
 
 ARISTOTLE'S POETICS. 7 
 
 mug the poet was born, who flourished long before 
 the time of Chonniclus and Magnetus) and some of 
 the Dorians in the Peloponnesus, of tragedy ; mak- 
 ing the words a proof in support of their claim. The 
 first affirm, that they call the villages scattered" 
 round their city xco/iai ; whereas (he Athenian* 
 call them SrjjU.o : and that the name comedian 
 was gfiven to players, not from the c'srcumslance of 
 their being guests, (xw,uasjv), but from their wan- 
 dering through the villages, when they had been 
 driven with disgrace from the city ; and that they 
 express "to act" by the word Spay; whilst the 
 Athenians call it 7rpTT?v. Respecting differences 
 of imitation- of what nature, and how many they 
 are, so much hath been said. 
 
 VI. Two causes, in a general point of view, ap- 
 pear to have given birth to poetry j and these na- 
 tural. In the first place, imitation is- natural to 
 man from his childhood : and in this respect does 
 he differ from other animals that he is the most 
 imitative of all, and that by means of imitation, 
 he acquires the first rudiments of knowledge ; and 
 all men delight in imitation. Real occurrences 
 are a proof of this j for those very objects which 
 we actually behold with the greatest disgust, we 
 are pleased with, if we see their resemblances very 
 accurately takensuch as pictures of the most sa- 
 vage beasts, and of deaf! bodies. The reason is, 
 that to acquire knowledge is the greatest pleasure, 
 not to philosophers alone, but to others also,
 
 8 ARISTOTLE'S POETICS. 
 
 |G though they have but a small participation in it. 
 Men, therefore, are delighted when they behold 
 pictures, because when looking at them, they can 
 enquire and learn what each represents ; that such 
 a picture, for example, represents such a man~. If, 
 again, the spectator may not chance to have pre- 
 viously seen the original, it is not the likeness which 
 will produce the pleasure, but it will arise from the 
 execution, the colouring, or some other such cause. 
 In the second place, imitation being natural to us, 
 as well as harmony and rythm, (for that versifica- 
 tion is only a part of rythm is evident,) ' 7 those 
 who originally were best fitted by nature for such 
 pursuits, l8 formed poetry from their extempora- 
 neous effusions, by gradually improving them. 
 
 VII. Poetry assumed different characters, ac- 
 cording to the peculiar habits of the writers. 
 Those of a graver turn of wind, imitate 1 honour- 
 able actions, ami the adventures of honourable 
 men : those of a looser turn, the adventures of bad 
 
 16 There is a difference of opinion respecting the precise 
 meaning of this passage. Some suppose that it alludes to the 
 small stock of knowledge, which circumstances will permit the 
 generality of mankind to acquire ; and others, to the degree oC 
 capacity they possess for acquiring it. 
 
 17 This is the second of those two Natural causes which, lie 
 says, gave rise to poetry. Without a natural. inclination to har- 
 mony and rytlmi, men never could have invented poetry, how- 
 ever g-n?at tlmir imitative faculty might have been. 
 
 18 Aristotle here informs us that the first beginning-* of poe- 
 try were rude songs delivered extempore, probably at the rude 
 festivals of a rude society.
 
 ARISTOTLE'S POETICS. 9 
 
 men ; at first, writing abusive pieces, as the others 
 did hymns and encomiums. We cannot mention 
 a poem of that nature, written by any of those who 
 lived before the days of Homer, though it is probable 
 that there were many : but, beginning from Ho- 
 mer, we can ; ' 9 as his Margeites, for example, and 
 others of that kind, 20 in which the iambic mea- 
 sure first came into use, as best adapted for such 
 compositions : and this is the reason why it is now 
 called iambic because men railed at one another 
 in that measure. 
 
 VIII. And thus some of the poets among the 
 ancients became Heroic, and others Iambic. But, 
 as Homer was the chief of those poets whose sub- 
 jects were serious, (not because he alone handled 
 them well, ai but because he gave to his imitations 
 a dramatic effect) so also he was the first who 
 pointed out a form for comedy ; making of it a 
 play, M not full of scurrility, but such as would ex- 
 cite laughter ; for the Margeites has the same ana- 
 logy to comedy, which the Iliad ami Odyssey have 
 to tragedy. 
 
 19 A satyrical poem composed upon a man of that name,, 
 who was so lazy that he could do nothing. 
 
 20 It would appear t'rom this, that the Iambic measure was 
 not always used in such poems, but tli:it t'roui this period it was 
 exclusively so employed, and the heroic or hexameter confined 
 entirely to ff<ruJ/a, or graver productions. 
 
 21 Any man \\lio will examine the Hind and Odysicy, and 
 who can jud^e of the various excellencies contained in them, 
 such as the action, the disposition, the management of the 
 subject, ice. vjill see the justice of this remark. 
 
 V2 "Viytf was a poem which contained little else than ner- 
 soual abuse.
 
 10 ARISTOTLE'S POETICS. 
 
 IX. But tragedy and comedy having once made 
 their appearance, those, who from the natural bent 
 of their minds, bestowed their attention upon either 
 species of poetry, became, one set of them, writers 
 of comedy, instead of iambics, and the other, of tra- 
 gedy instead of epic poems, because these forms 
 were of greater importance, and more esteemed 
 than the others. To examine minutely whether 
 tragedy has now brought its forms to perfection, 
 or not, judging of it either by itself, as a poem, or 
 with reference to the theatre, is subject for another 
 discussion. a3 Tragedy and comedy, therefore, 
 were at first extemporaneous effusions : the last 
 was introduced by those who gave rise to dithy- 
 rambics ; the first, by the composers of obscene 
 songs, (which continue even now in some cities, 
 supported by the authority of the law) and gra- 
 dually increased ; men bringing it forward, *as it 
 rendered itself conspicuous. 
 
 X. * Tragedy having undergone many changes, 
 ceased changing, after it had attained to its own na- 
 ture. a5 The first person who increased the number 
 
 23 This sentence is so inverted that it is impossible to mnke 
 English of it except by dividi.i;; it, and putting the auxiliary 
 verb in place of the panicle. 
 
 24 This is by no moans a solution of the question, whether 
 tragedy had brought its forms tn perlWtiou. !!r only mcnns 
 that it hat! acquired all the essentials of its nature, th-nigh per- 
 haps those essentials might not been sufficiently poluhea. 
 
 2.T Tragedy consisted originally of nothing but SOUL;' and 
 chorus. ./Ese.lijlus introduced a second performer, who .sup- 
 ported & dialogue with the lirst, and thus rendered the piece 
 much more interesting;. He also so far chunked the nature of
 
 ARISTOTLE'S POETICS. 11 
 
 of performers from one to two, shortened the songs 
 of the Chorus, and supplied the piece with a princi- 
 pal character, was ^fischylus ; and Sophocles made 
 them three, and introduced painted scenery : ^ but 
 it was some time before dignity was given to it, 
 by extending its length from short stories and a 
 ridiculous action to its jrresent form, (on account of 
 the change it had to undergo from its satirical na- 
 ture) ; and before the measure became iambic, in- 
 stead of tetrametre. Originally, men made use of 
 the tetrametre, because poetry was satirical, and 
 accompanied with dancing : but when dialogue was 
 introduced, nature herself suggested the measure 
 which was proper j for the iambic is, of all mea- 
 sures, the best adapted for conversation. The 
 proof is, that in conversing with one another, we 
 pronounce many iambics ; but hexameters rare- 
 ly, and only when we exceed the propriety of 
 speech. The number of episodes likewise, and the 
 other things which are esteemed ornamental, were 
 
 the chorus, that instead of being the principal part of the per- 
 formance to which the speech of the actor was only a rest, it 
 became a rest to the dialog-tie. By introducing a second speaker, 
 he necessarily made one the principal, and the other the secon- 
 dary character ; and this is evidently what is meant by the Greek 
 words, which are sometimes translated prologue. 
 
 26 The meaning of this will be obv ions enough, if the reader 
 will n-collect that the first tragedies were merely songs sung- 
 in honour of Bacchus. They were not altogether what won I'd 
 now be termed satyrical. They were partly grave, and partly 
 jocose, yr-t almost intirely made up of abusive obscenity, winch 
 the singers heaped upon one another in honor of the Gods. They 
 were likewise, accompanied with dancing and a variety of ges- 
 tures, for which reason the tetrametre verse was used, being 
 best adapted for such purposes. It consists of Trochajes, which 
 have two feet, one long and one short.
 
 18 ARISTOTLE'S POETICS. 
 
 gradually increased. What we have said on these 
 subjects must suffice ; for it were a work of con- 
 siderable labour, to enter minutely into each. 
 
 XI. Comedy, as we were saying, is the imitation 
 of men worse than ourselves, though not in every 
 species of fault, but of that part of the vile which 
 is ludicrous ; but the ludicrous consists of some 
 error and deformity, which does not occasion pain 
 or death : thus a face, hideous and distorted with- 
 out suffering, is immediately considered ludicrous. 
 The changes in tragedy, and the causes from which 
 those changes sprang, have not eluded our search : 
 but comedy, as it was not from the first a subject 
 of serious study, has been overlooked ; a7 it was 
 even long before the magistrate gave the chorus to 
 comedies, but they were voluntary : but after it 
 had received some form, men, called its poets, are 
 mentioned. "* Who it was that added the mask, 
 the prologue, the number of performers, and other 
 matters of this kind, is unknown. Epicharmus and 
 Phormes were the first to compose fables. It 
 therefore came originally from Sicily. Of those 
 tcho flourished at Athens, Crates was the first, who, 
 
 27 The person \vlio superintended the performance of a play, 
 and was at all the charge, Mas railed the Archon. He pur- 
 chased the piece from the poet, and w;is at the cxpence ot" its 
 representation. It would appear, that comedy, for a long- time, 
 was of such low esteem that it was acted only by private persons, 
 and consequently that the chorus was composed of volunteers. 
 
 S8 It is almost needless to remark, that all players amony 
 the sntients wore masks. When comedy be^an to he more es- 
 teemed it received all the decorations which tragedy had.
 
 ARISTOTLE'S POETICS. 13 
 
 * dropping the iambic form, began to make argu- 
 ments and stories on general subjects. 
 
 XII. Epic poetry resembles tragedy in its mea- 
 sure alone, by being an imitation in verse of men 
 of distinction j but in this they differ that epic 
 poetry employs but one kind of verse, and is a 
 narrative : and likewise in the length ; for 3 tra- 
 gedy endeavours, as much as possible, to be com- 
 prehended within one revolution of the sun, or a 
 very little to exceed it ; whereas, epic poetry is un- 
 confined as to time, and in this it differs. Origi- 
 nally, indeed, men did the same in this respect in 
 tragedy, as in epic poetry. Their component parts, 
 however, are the same, though there are some pe- 
 culiar to tragedy. On this account, whoever can 
 distinguish between a good and a bad tragedy, has 
 the same knowledge also in epic compositions ; for 
 those qualities which epic has, tragedy possesses ; 
 but those which tragedy possesses, do not all be- 
 long to epic. 
 
 XIII. Of imitation in hexameter, and of co- 
 medy, we will speak by and by : in the mean time 
 let us treat of tragedy, assuming the definition of 
 its essence from what has gone before. Tragedy 
 
 29 Who altered it from being nothing but a string of coarse 
 raillery. 
 
 30 By tli is, Aristotle means, that the story of a tragedy should 
 not include a space of time more exte.nded than ten or twelve 
 hours; tliot an action Ix-gnu in tlm morning should epd before 
 night } and one begun at night should end before morning. 
 
 C
 
 14 ARISTOTLE'S POETICS. 
 
 then, is the imitation of a noble and perfect action, 
 which is of proper magnitude ; expressed in agree- 
 able language, with the kind of pleasure peculiar 
 to each of its parts kept separate : produced byac- 
 trs, not by narrative ; and effecting a refinement 
 of such of our passions, as are represented by means 
 of pity and fear. 1 call that an agreeable style, 
 which has rythm, harmony, and melody ; and by 
 the distinction of the kinds of pleasure I mean, 
 31 that some should be rendered complete by mea- 
 sure alone others again, by melody. 
 
 XIV. But since actors produce this imitation, 
 the arrangement of the decorations will necessa- 
 rily, in the first place, ^ form a certain part of the 
 tragedy ; and next, melody and discourse : for by 
 these do they produce the imitation. I call dis- 
 course, the very arrangement of the measures, but 
 melody, that which makes its effects manifest to 
 all. Since thea it is the imitation of an action, 
 and represented by actors, who must necessarily be 
 of a certain description, as to their habits and sen- 
 timents, (for by these do we pronounce actions to 
 be of a particular kind), there must be two natural 
 causes of action ; namely, sentiment and habit, ac- 
 
 31 In the dialog-ue verse alone >s used ; verse, music, and 
 dancing-, in one part of the chorus, and verse and music in ano- 
 ther. 
 
 32 He calls it a certain part, beeanse it belongs to it only 
 when acted, and not when read. Music and verse he does not 
 explain, because thetr efleftfs are Mt by all. They are not ne- 
 cessarily parts of a tragedy, but am&ng- the Greeks Were always 
 mdded.
 
 ARISTOTLE'S POETJCS. 15 
 
 cording to which, all are perfect or imperfect in 
 acting. But the story is the imitation of an ac- 
 .tion ; for I call that the story, which is the putting 
 .together of things done ; those the manners, by 
 which we declare the actors to be of such or such a 
 quality ; and that the sentiment, in which, by 
 speaking, they point out any thing, or dechire an 
 opinion. There must therefore be six parts of a 
 tragedy, from which it derives its quality : these 
 are, the story, the manner, the discourse, the sen- 
 timent, the scenery, and the melody. M The in* 
 struments with which they imitate, are two of the 
 parts, the mode of imitation one, and the things 
 imitated three ; and besides these, there is none else. 
 
 XV. There are not a few of the poets, so to 
 speak, who make use of these forms j as every 
 drama equally possesses scenery, manner, story, dis-. 
 course, melody, and sentiment : but of these, the 
 putting together of actions is of the greatest im- 
 portance. For tragedy is an imitation, not of men, 
 but of actions, 34 of human life, and of happinesa 
 and misery ; 3S and as happiness consists in action, 
 
 33 The instruments of imitation are discourse an I melody ; 
 the manners are the mode ; and the subjects of imitation, are the 
 story, the scenery, and the sentiments. 
 
 34 Aristotle d*es not by this mean to say, that a trag-edy 
 atijjlit to be the history of a man's whole life, but only of his 
 grl or had fortune, that is, of some single action, in his life, 
 which occasions his happiness or misery. 
 
 3j Ou this subject Aristotle enters at jyre*t length in hi* 
 Ethics : he thcrr proves that happiness (which is the prize for 
 all njt.n &truggk-) cuiisuta in virtuous energy. \Ve it
 
 16 ARISTOTLE'S POETICS. 
 
 so the end at which we aim is action, add not qua- 
 lity. - 6 Men are of such and such a quality, ac- 
 cording to their manners ; hut according to their 
 actions they are happy or the reverse. They do 
 not therefore act, that they may imitate manners, 
 but take manners along with them, by means of 
 tlieir actions. Thus actions and the story form the 
 main object of tragedy ; and the main object is 
 that which, in all things, is of the greatest impor- 
 tance. Besides, without action, tragedy could not 
 exist, whilst without manners it might ; for the 
 tragedies of most moderns are without manner, 
 and many poets are altogether of this nature. Si- 
 milarly situated was Zeuxis with respect to Po- 
 lygnotus, among painters j for Polygnotus was a 
 good painter of manners, whilst the paintings of 
 Zeuxis had no manner at all. Moreover, if one 
 should produce a collection of moral sayings, in 
 language and sentiments well expressed, he would 
 not perform the office of tragedy ; but that is much 
 more a tragedy, which uses these more sparingly, 
 and possesses a story and a connection of actions. 
 In addition to this we have to remark, that the most 
 ready means by which tr -gcily attracts the atten- 
 
 tn be made np of passive qualities, a man might be asleep all hi 
 days, and yet be happy. 
 
 36 A man's moral feelings and his actions may very well be at 
 rariance. His disposition may lc- jf rn<d, and yet hf may com- 
 mit such actions, urged on too by ti.ut MTV deposition, as will 
 most certainly render him niiseniMc. On tin sta^e in parti- 
 milar, to whiru Aristotle here alludes, the happiue.sk or misery 
 uf the character represented, mut u ink t'rum hi* ucliout> alone
 
 ARISTOTLE'S POETICS. ifr 
 
 'tion, are parts of the story ; namely, 37 peripatie and 
 recognition. The proof is, that those \tho endea- 
 vour to write tragedies, are much sooner able to 
 be correct in their diction and manner, than in the 
 connection of actions, 0.$ was the case with almost 
 all the ancient poets. The story, therefore, is the 
 first principle, and, as it were, the soul of tragedy j 
 38 and next, manners. (And here the art much re- 
 sembles painting ; for if one were to paint with 
 the most beautiful colours, promiscuously blended 
 together, he would not give so much pleasure, as 
 he who took likenesses in chalk. But tragedy is 
 the imitation of action, and therefore particularly 
 so of agents). Thirdly, sentiment : and this is, 
 the being able to express those things which be- 
 long to, and are in harmony with, the subject ; but 
 what relates to speeches, it is the office of politics 
 and rhetoric to set forth ; for the ancient poets 
 made their characters speak politically, the mo- 
 derns, rhetorically. Manner again, is that which 
 declares the previous intention of the speaker, 
 what it may be. Sbme speeches, therefore, have 
 
 37 The peripaties are the revolutions and changes of fortune, 
 which the Uero of the piece undergoes. Recognition is the 
 knowledge which the persons represented in the drama, acquire 
 of one another, and which they are supposed either not to have 
 previously had, or to have forgotten. It generally takes place 
 at the conclusion, and brings about the catastrophe. 
 
 38 The respective merits of the different parts of tragedy are 
 admirably well arranged. The proper connection of the actions 
 or incidents deservedly holds the first place. Next conies mun- 
 ner, because manners or habits are always the cause of actiow ; 
 tlu- proper disposition and maintaining of which, do tor the poet, 
 what a proper diatributiou of i<)uurs docs fur 4 pointer.
 
 18 ARISTOTLE'S POETICS. 
 
 no manner ; / mean those by which it does not ap- 
 pear what the speaker intends either to choose or 
 to avoid. ^ But sentiment is that by which men 
 point out how a thing is, or how it is not ; or, in 
 general terms, by which they make an enunciation. 
 Fourth in order, is the pronunciation of speeches. 
 But I say, as has been said before, that discourse is 
 an explanation of OUT meaning by the help of word% 
 and which has the same force, when delivered ei- 
 ther in verse or prose. * Of the remaining five 
 parts, melody is the most productive of pleasure. 
 41 Scenery, to be sure, is very attractive to the at- 
 tention, hut it depends little on the art, and is the 
 part least peculiarly belonging to poetry ; for the 
 force of tragedy exists without the performance or 
 performers. Besides, in the arrangement of the 
 shew, the art of the scene-painter has more effect 
 than that of the poets. 
 
 XVI. These matters being defined, we will next 
 state of what nature the connection of action? 
 ought to be, since this is the first and chief point 
 of tragedy. It has already been demonstrated to 
 
 39 By sentiments he does not mean all the thoughts which- 
 pass within the actor's mind, but only such as are expressed in 
 wtrds. The term ' sentence" would not convey the idea at nil, 
 find sentiment in its general acceptation is too comprehensive ; 
 but for want of a better word, it must he used in this limited sense. 
 
 40 Regarding melody or i-iusic we have before observed, that 
 though not absolutely an essential part of the drain-i, it was al- 
 ways used us such. 
 
 41 The word here translated scenery has a much morr com- 
 prehensive meaning. It includes dresses, machinery, in short 
 every iliiug which may be styled s4age effect.
 
 ARISTOTLE'S POETICS. 19 
 
 us, that tragedy is the imitation of a whole and 
 perfect action, 4 * having a proper magnitude ; for 
 there is a whole, which has not a proper magni_ 
 tude. tt But a whole is that which has a begin- 
 ning, a middle, and an end. 44 The beginning is 
 that which itself, of necessity, is not after any 
 other; but after which another naturally is, or 
 follows. The end, on the contrary, is that which 
 necessarily, or for the most part, follows another 
 in a natural order ; but after which, follows nothing 
 else. The middle is that which follows one thing, 
 and after which, another follows. It is therefore 
 necessary, that well connected stones should not 
 begin and end where chance may direct, but that 
 they employ the above-mentioned forms. But since 
 the beautiful, both animal, and every other thing 
 which is composed of parts, ought to have those 
 parts, not only properly arranged, but also to possess 
 
 42 There arp mnny actions which, though entire, have not a 
 co.'itiiinuiiCH sufficient! y lon<c, nora preparation sufficiently great 
 to form the subjects of tragedies. Such are they which happen 
 in a moment, without any previous warning-, and which can 
 only be in nod need as episodes. 
 
 43 The cause of undertaking an action and the preparations 
 for seating- about if, are the beginning'. The difficulties which 
 are to he Mini:., tinted in the performance of that action, consti- 
 tute the middle;' and the catastro; he or consequences of the 
 action when performed, compose the tii'1. 
 
 44 This passage requires only to be translated a little more 
 freely to render it quite perspicuous. The beginning is that 
 which d.)es not necessarily require the preexisteuce of any thing- 
 else. The middle is that which follows the beginning and pre- 
 cedes the end. And the end is that which follows both, and is 
 followed by nothing- else. Therefore, says Aristotle, great at- 
 tention is required in making a story begin and end where it 
 ought.
 
 > AJRISTOTLE'S POETICS. 
 
 a size, not merely accidental : for the beautiful con-. 
 sists in a propriety of size and arrangement 5 
 whence neither is that animal beautiful, which is. 
 too small, because the vision is confounded when 
 it takes place in an almost imperceptible period of 
 time ; nor that which is too large, because the per-, 
 ception does not take place at once, but the indi- 
 viduality and perfection in the view, is lost to the 
 spectators ; as if, for instance, there could be an 
 animal ten thousand stadia long. 4S Thus, as in 
 bodies and animals, it is necessary for them to 
 have a proper magnitude, and that readily taken 
 in by the eye ; so also in stories, they ought to 
 have a proper length, and that easily remembered. 
 The determining of that length, as far as regards 
 the disputations, and the senses of the audience, be- 
 longs not to the art. For if it were necessary to 
 act one hundred tragedies, men would act them by 
 the hour-glass, 46 as they say was sometimes done 
 elsewhere. 47 But the mark to govern us with re- 
 
 45 This is a very excellent illustration, and points out that 
 the mf-mory has the same power in the intellectual world, which 
 the eye has in the natural. The story ot' a tragedy ought not 
 to be too short, htcause it is then not worth remembering, and 
 is besides ohscured hy the many episodes which must be intro- 
 duced to fill up the piece. Neither ought it to be too long, he- 
 cause the best memory cutiltl not then retain it. 
 
 46 This is a reproof to the Athenians, who were so fond of 
 shews that they used to have twelve, and even sixteen plays 
 acted in a day. These were pieces repeated by four poets for 
 a prize, and that hist was always satirical. 
 
 47 The meaning of this is, that the longer the story may be, 
 the better it is fitted for being the subject of a tragedy, provided 
 it be not of such a length that the beginning will be forgotten, 
 before .we get to the eud . This makes more clear what was b*-. 
 fore said of the v*/tftin and
 
 ARISTOTLE'S POETICS. 51 
 
 ference to the nature of the action is, that the 
 greater is always more appropriate in pr< nnrtion to 
 its size, as long as it is perspicuous. To give a de- 
 finition of the matter as simply as possible : when 
 events follow each other in order, in whatever ex- 
 tent it happens, either according to probability or 
 necessity, that the transition is made to good from 
 bad fortune, or from good to bad, that ** term of 
 magnitude is sufficient. 
 
 XVII. * A story is one, (possesses unity) not as 
 some think, if it be told of ov.c person : for ma- 
 ny things, infinite in their nature, happen, from 
 none of which any single action comes ; and there 
 are also many actions of one person, from which 
 no single action springs. Wherefore all appear to 
 be in an error, as many of the poets as have com- 
 posed the Heracleides, the Theseides, and such like 
 poems. For they suppose, that because Hercules 
 
 48 Tins is in support of the antient theory, that a tragedy ought 
 to take upas much time in acti.i;>-, as the circumstances which are 
 represented did in real life. Not that this was always attended 
 to, as many occurrences, w-hich, it' i-rul, would have tilled up ten 
 or twelve hours, were by the Greek tiai>'edians compressed into 
 four. It was considered however as the perfection of tragedy. 
 
 49 Aristotle here shews, that the circumstance of there being 1 
 but one hero will not jjive unity to a piece. JVere the life and 
 a.;, tnturcs of any eminent in. in. for example, to be thrown into 
 verse, unity could not possibly be looked for in such a c .nfuscd 
 jumble. But if the poet take one particulai action, and make 
 it the chiei" subject of his work, he may add as many more as he 
 pleases, by way of episodes, pro. ided he do it with proper care, 
 and the poem will still piescrve its unity. The reason of this is, 
 he adds, that actions performed in the most opposite quarters 
 of tlif globe, cannot be more diii'evcut than ttiu actious of the 
 same person frequently ace.
 
 ARISTQT]LE'$ POETICS. 
 
 was one, the story must necessarily be single. 
 l^ut Homer, as he excels them in other respects, 
 appears also to have had a proper view in this, ei- 
 ther by art, or by nature. For in composing the 
 Odyssey, he has not recorded every circumstance 
 which befel his hero ; * that he was wounded in 
 Parnassus, for instance, and that in the assembling 
 of the army he pretended to be mad ; 5I of which, 
 although one happened, there was no necessity or 
 probability that the other would ; but those which 
 relate to one action, such as we call the Odyssey ; 
 and so also the Ilij^d. As then in other imitative 
 arts, a single imitation is the imitation of one ob- 
 ject, so also ought the story of a poem, since it is 
 the imitation of an action, to be the imitation of a 
 single action, and that an entire one ; and the 
 parts of the action ought to be so arranged, that any 
 one part being changed or taken away, the whole 
 shall be destroyed or changed. For 5 * that which 
 
 50 Ulysses when a boy was wounded below the knee by a 
 wild- boar on Parnassus. This IIonn>r very naturally in< ntions 
 in the Odyssey, not as an episode which might either have been 
 omitted or not, but as a part of the piece, because the Si'ar left 
 by that wound was a means bv which his hero could be recog- 
 ni/ed. The pretended madness, having no relation to the story, 
 is omitted. 
 
 51 Aristotle here teaches, that the incidents related in a 
 poem, should all i:ave sonie connection with one another; and 
 that those which may have happened to the hero, but which hnd 
 no relation at all to the subject of the poem, ought to be left out. 
 They ought also so to hang together, that the sinallest'dex iati.m 
 from the original plan, would change the whole nature of the 
 poem. 
 
 52 This clearly alludes to those insertions wliich have no re- 
 lation to the principal story. Thus in the niidsiimim T-m'ghf'a 
 dream, were we to strike out Quince'* plaj of Piramtu and
 
 ARISTOTLE'S POETICS. S3 
 
 when added or not added does nothing remarkable, 
 is not a part of the poem. 
 
 XV!II. M From what has been said it is mani- 
 fest, th,at it is not the office of the poet, to relate 
 things which have really happened, but rather such 
 as might, or could have happened, according to 
 probable or necessary consequence. For the histo- 
 rian and poet do not merely differ in that they speak 
 in verse and prose ; as the history of Herodotus 
 might be put into verse, and would be not less a 
 history in verse than in prose : but in this they 
 differ that the one relates things which actually 
 did happen, and the other, what might have hap- 
 pened. On this account, poetry is a more philoso- 
 phic and honourable pursuit than history. M For 
 
 Tliishe, we might deprive the piece of one of its greatest beaii- 
 ti(-K, but we should not destroy the unity of the story. The re- 
 verse is the case with the mock play in Hainlet, for it is hy the 
 feelings excited hy its representation, that the king betrays his 
 guilt, and thus confirms Hamlet in his resolution of vengeance. 
 
 53 This is self-evident ; for were a poet to confine himself to 
 facts, he could not give to his poem the parts which it requires. 
 As he must necessarily be ignorant of a man's real motives for 
 the performance of any action, he could not give to his play that 
 beginning which Aristotle recommends. And so also with the 
 middle and the end. The same sentence teaches us, that a poet 
 ought to confine himself within the bounds of at least possibi- 
 lity. Supernatural agency, though not probable, is still possi- 
 ble, and therefore not to be objected to ; but were a poet to te'l 
 us, that a thing was, and was not at the same time, we should 
 at once see his absurdity. 
 
 54 Aristotle here gives a decided superiority to poetry orer 
 history, which no man will hesitate to assent to, who gives him- 
 self a moment's time for reflection. The historian, it is true, 
 relates the occurrence of certain events, which it is very proper 
 to be acquainted with, but then he cannot in the nature of things
 
 M AHISTOTLE'S POETICS. 
 
 poetry treats more of general principles ; history, 
 of particular actions. A general principle is that 
 which M a man of a certain character would say 
 or do, according either to probability or neces- 
 sity ; which poetry endeavours to make clear, by 
 adding names. A particular action again, is some- 
 thing which Alcibiades did or suffered. In comedy, 
 indeed, this has been made plain enough ; for 
 connecting their story by a chain of probable 
 events, they have added names to their pieces, and 
 not like the iambic poets, written poems on the ac- 
 tions of individuals. In tragedy, however, they 
 make use of real names ; and the reason is, that 
 what is possible is credible. Things, therefore, 
 which never happened, we do not believe to be 
 possible ; but it is evident that those which did 
 happen, are possible, otherwise, had they been im- 
 possible, they would not have happened. It hap- 
 pens, nevertheless, in some tragedies, that one or 
 two of the names are known, and the rest ficti- 
 tious ; in others, that none are known as in the 
 Flower of Agathon. In this play he invents equal- 
 pretend to explain the causes of those events. It'll? attempt it 
 at all, what IK- say.s must bo mere conjecture, whereas tl:e poet 
 has the intire management of his performance ill his on n hands, 
 from h'rst to last. He gives to 1m hero certain passions and 
 qualities, and makes him perform certain actions which arc 
 consequent upon such passions. He thus impresses upon our 
 minds the consequence of allowing passion to gain the ascend- 
 ency over reason, whilst the historian who records nothing- but 
 bare fae,ts, leaves us to eoiijeetine front what source those facts 
 have arisen. The poet therefore, in a moral point of view, is a 
 "better instructor than the historian. 
 
 5/ Which it occurs to a man of a certain character to say 
 or do.
 
 ARISTOTLE S POETIC? . *5 
 
 }y the actions and the names, and pleases not the 
 less. It ought not therefore to be our chief study 
 to tie ourselves down to traditionary stories, upon 
 which tragedies are founded. * Indeed it would 
 be ridiculous to aim at this ; as those which are 
 known, are known but to a few, and yet give 
 pleasure to all. ft is evident then from this, that 
 a poet ought to be esteemed such rather from his 
 story than from his versification, inasmuch as he is 
 a poet by imitation, and he imitates actions. And 
 should it happen that he celebrates real occur- 
 rences, he is not the less a poet ; for of real occur- 
 rences, there is nothing to prevent some being of 
 such a nature, as probably might, and possibly 
 could have happened, in which point of view he i s 
 the author of them. 57 But of simple stories and 
 actions, the episodic are the worst. I call that an 
 episodic story, in which it is neither probable nor 
 necessary, that the episodes introduced should fol- 
 low another. Such are composed by bad poets, on 
 their own account, and by good ones, on ac- 
 count of the players. ** Because acting for prizes, 
 and spinning out the story beyond what it will 
 
 56 How sma 11 a proportion of a British audience, for example, 
 know the story upon which the Merchant of Venice it founded. 
 
 57 Episodic stories are such as either from their own bar- 
 rrnness or. the poverty of the author's genius, are interspersed 
 with littlr anecdotes and advqntiires \vhicli hare no reference 
 to the main plot, and such he justly reprobates. 
 
 58 Poems were often repeated for prizes, and if the sub- 
 ject of one should be barren of incidents, the po-t was obliged 
 to introduce episode* for the purpose of giving 1 it a proper 
 length. 
 
 D
 
 26 ARISTOTLE'S POETICS. 
 
 bear, they are frequently obliged to interrupt the 
 connection. 
 
 XIX. w But since tragedy is the imitation, not 
 only of a perfect action, but of such as excites pity 
 and fear, of which description actions particularly 
 are, when they are produced by one another rather 
 contrary to expectation, for an occurrence of this 
 kind has more of the wonderful in it, than if it 
 were to happen accidentally, or fortuitously : and 
 since of accidental circumstances, those seem most 
 wonderful, which appear to have happened by de- 
 sign ; as for example, the statue of Mitys at Ar- 
 gos killed the person who was the cause of Mi- 
 tys's death, by falling upon him when he was look- 
 ing at it ; for such things seem as if they had not 
 taken place by mere chance. Therefore it neces- 
 sarily follows, that stories which possess these qua- 
 lities are best adapted for tragedy. 
 
 XX. But of stories, some are simple, others 
 complex. For the actions also of which they are 
 
 69 What is meant by an entire and perfect action, has already 
 been explained. It is a maxim of Aristotle's, that the feelings 
 to be excited by tragedy, are principUy fear and pity, and 
 these, he very justly observes, are most powerfully operated 
 upon, when tiie spectator is taken, as it were, by surprise. But 
 it is pot-enoug-h tliai the circumstance which excites those feelr 
 ings be unexpected. It oug-ht also to have reference* to some- 
 thing done before. Thus had Mitys's murderer been killed by 
 a fall from his horse, or an accidental blow from a stone, his 
 death would have been attributed to blind chance alone, but as 
 the statue of the very man whom he had murdered fell upon 
 him, and crushed him to death, something like an appearanc* 
 of retributive justice gives interest to the accident.
 
 ARISTOTLE'S POETICS. r 
 
 the imitation chance originally to have been of 
 these kinds. * I call that a simple story, in which, 
 being connected and single, as has been definex^ 
 the change takes place without peripatie or re- 
 cognition ; and complex, in which the change 
 takes place, with recognition, or peripatie, or both. 
 But these should be produced by the very connec- 
 tion of the story, in such a manner as that they 
 must arise, either necessarily, or according to pro- 
 bability, from actions previously performed. ft For 
 there is a great difference between a thing happen- 
 ing in consequence of something else, and after 
 something else. 
 
 XXL The peripatie, as has been said, is the 
 change of actions to their very opposites j and this, 
 as we have stated, either according to probable, 
 or necessary consequence. Thus in the story qfCE- 
 dipus, the person who came to make CEdipus hap- 
 py, and to relieve his mind from all fears respect- 
 ing his mother, having disclosed who he was, did 
 the very reverse : and in the Lynceas, when he is 
 led out as about to die, and Danaus follows, as 
 
 fiO A simple story or notion is that which is accompanied 
 with no change of place or circumstances, or remembrance 
 of forg-otten obiccts. A complex is accompanied with all. 
 
 61 Fifty tilings may happen one after another, and yet have 
 n* 1 more connection than so many arithmetical fig-ares. Bat 
 when on* thing is produced inconsequence of another, it proves, 
 that the cause must hnvr existed, or else the effect never could 
 have come into bring-. Of this nature oug-ht all the peripaties 
 and recognitions in a tragedy to be, that is, there oug-ht not to 
 h." any which, is not the consequence of something- gone be- 
 foro.
 
 gg ARISTOTLE'S POETIC.*. 
 
 about to kill him, it happens, from what has gone 
 before, that the last dies, and the first is saved. 
 
 XXII. Recognition, again, as the name denotes, 
 is a change from ignorance to knowledge, 6j tend- 
 ing to establish either friendship or animosity, be- 
 tween the persons destined to happiness or misery. 
 6j The best kind of recognition is, when the peri- 
 patie t:ikes place at the same time, as is the case in 
 the (Edipus. * But besides this, there are other 
 kinds of recognition ; for it happens that it is 
 sometimes directed towards inanimate, and acci- 
 dental objects ; and one may discover whether a 
 person did or did not perform some particular ao- 
 tion ; but that which peculiarly belongs to the sto- 
 ry, and constitutes the chief part of the action, is 
 what was first mentioned : for such recognition 
 and peripatie will excite either pity or fear } of 
 
 62 For two persons to remember each other, and still to con- 
 tinue in the same situation is not sufficient. The remembrance 
 must excita feelings of either lore or hatred, or else the re- 
 cognition will not have fulfilled its office. 
 
 63 That recognition is best which produces an instant change 
 in the circumstances of the person who remembers, which har- 
 rif him at once from happiness to misery, or froni'miserv to 
 happiness, and thus brings on the catastrophe. No recognition, 
 properly speaking, can br made without efl'eoting some change ; 
 but Aristotle speaks here only of the grand circumstance upon 
 which the whole t>tory hangs. 
 
 64 We may find a ring or a necklace for example, or ice 
 horse, and remember that it belongs to some particular person. 
 We may see that something hag been done, and remembering' 
 the manner in which that person does such tilings, we conclude 
 that it was he who did it. Or ajj-nin, we may have seen a tree 
 planted, or a pillar erected by this person, and returning to the 
 mine place, we remember thut it was done by him.
 
 ARISTOTLE'S POETICS. 29 
 
 which actions, tragedy is shewn to be the imita- 
 tion. Besides, good or bad fortune will be the 
 consequence of such recognitions. But since re- 
 cognition is the excitement of remembrance be- 
 tween certain persons, fe some recognitions will 
 only be, of one party towards the other, when only 
 one is made known ; at other times both must re- 
 cognise ; as Iphigenia is recognised by Orestes, 
 from the circumstance of dispatching a letter, but it 
 requires other means to awaken a recognition of him 
 in (he mind oflphigenia. 
 
 XXIII. Two parts of the story therefore relate 
 to this ; (the subject) namely, peripatie and recog- 
 nition : there is also a third, viz. passion. Of these, 
 peripatie and recognition have been explained ; 
 but passion a is an action productive of death or 
 pain ; 67 such as murders openly perpetrated, tor- 
 tures, wounds, and such like. 
 
 65 It sometimes happens that a story will require, tliat only 
 one of two persons should recognise the other. At other times 
 both must be recognised. When this is the case, more means 
 must be employed than one. A bodily mark may be the cause 
 of one being renipinbf red, and some other contingent circum- 
 stance of the other. Thus Iphigenia made herself known to 
 Orestes, by repeating the very words of a letter which she had 
 previously sent him, and he proved himself to be the right per- 
 lon by a mark on his body. 
 
 66 To call passion an action seems perfectly incongruous, 
 but the fact is, we have not a single word in the language which 
 will convey the meaning of raSes in the present case. Its sig- 
 nification must be, the colouring which passion gives to an ac- 
 tion v 
 
 67 Aristotle does not here mean to recommend the commission 
 of murder upon the stage a thing very rarely done among the 
 ancients. He only means that the audience must be certainly 
 informed that the person is dead.
 
 30 ARISTOTLE'S POETICS. 
 
 XXIV. We have mentioned above those parts 
 of a tragedy which must be used as forms ; w but 
 with respect to quantity, and the distinct parts into 
 which it is divided, these are they prologue, epi- 
 sode, exode, and chorus ; and of this last there are 
 two parts one parodus, and the other stasimon. 
 These are the same in all tragedies ; but their pe- 
 culiarities arise from the scenery and the commi. 
 The prologue is that whole part of the tragedy, 
 which precedes the parodus of the chorus. The 
 episode, t"hat whole part of the tragedy which is 
 between the entire songs of the chorus. And the 
 exode, that whole part of the tragedy, after which 
 there is no song of the chorus. Of the divisions of 
 the chorus again, the parodus is the first speech of 
 the whole chorus, and the Etasimon is the song of 
 the chorus, which is without anapaeste or trochaeus. 
 The commus again, is the combined lamentation 
 
 68 Most of these parts are so well explained in the text, that 
 it is almost needless to notice them here. We will endeavour 
 however to make some of them even more plain. The pro- 
 logue, it must he rememhered, was not as it is now, a short ad- 
 dress spoken to the audience before the commencement of the 
 play, but an actual part of tha piece. When the chorus .spoke* 
 one person did it for the whole, but when they sang, all joined. 
 The parodus was the first of these songs. The stasimon we 
 must explain at greater length. The chorus did not begin to- 
 take a share in the action till after the parodus wag sung. In- 
 it they had made use of anapsste and trochsus, being a quick 
 measure, indicative of a careless mind, and suited to rapid mo- 
 tion. When, however, they began to take an interest in the 
 piece, and to form, in fact, part of the performance, they drop- 
 ped this lively measure, and sung the rest of their songs in one 
 more grave and melancholy. These were called the stasim*B. 
 The commi are the united lamentations of the chorus and other 
 actors of the performance of any terrible action, and were ac- 
 companied with beating the breast, whence the name is derived.
 
 ARISTOTLE'S POETICS. 31 
 
 of the chorus and the players. The parts of a tra- 
 gedy therefore, which the poet must use, have been 
 formerly stated ; but with respect to Quantity and 
 the distinct parts into which it is divided, they are 
 these. 
 
 XXV. Next in order, after what we have just 
 said, we will mention what things, those who 
 compose tragedies ought to aim at, and what they 
 ought to avoid, and how the object of tragedy will 
 be attained. * Since then the composition of the 
 best tragedy must be, not simple, but complex, 
 and that imitative of things which are terrible and 
 pitiable, (for this is the peculiarity of that kind of 
 imitation) it is evident, in the first place, that nei- 
 ther very just men should be represented as falling 
 from good fortune into bad, (as this is neither 
 terrible nor pitiable, but detestable) nor the wicked 
 from bad fortune into good, (for this is by no 
 means tragical j as it possesses none of all the re- 
 quisites which it ought, it excites not a love of 
 mankind, neither is it pitiable nor terrible) : nor 
 in the second place should a very bad man be re- 
 presented as falling from good fortune into bad, 
 (for although this kind of composition may have 
 
 69 These maxims are in support of Aristotle'* theory, that 
 tragedy ought to purify our passions, by means of pity and fear. 
 The misfortunes of a conspicuously good man, however, would 
 excite in us neither the one nor the other. They would rather 
 rouge our indignation. And the successes of a bad man, would 
 have quite the contrary effect from purifying our passions. The 
 fall of a very had man again, would give us pleasure, without 
 exciting either pity or fear.
 
 82 ARISTOTLE'S POETICS. 
 
 something philanthropic in it, it excites neither 
 pity nor fear ; because the one is felt when an un- 
 deserving person suffers, the other, when a person 
 in our own situation ; pity for the undeserving, 
 and fear for the equal j so that such an event 
 would produce neither pity nor fear). That man 
 therefore remains, who is between the two. He 
 will be a man from among those in high estima- 
 tion and happiness, who is conspicuous neither for 
 his virtue and justice, nor falls into misfortune from 
 any wickedness or crime, but only from some mis- 
 take ; such as CEdipus and Orestes, and the illus- 
 trious men of such families. 
 
 XXVI. It ia necessary, however, as some say, 
 that a well arranged story should be simple rather 
 than complex, and that the change should be, not 
 from bad fortune to good, but on the contrary, 
 from good to bad by no crime, but by a great 
 mistake of such a man as has been mentioned, or 
 of a better rather than a worse. What daily hap- 
 pens is a proof of this ; for formerly, indeed, poets 
 recited any stories they might meet with, but now 
 the best tragedies are composed upon a fewfamilies; 
 as upon the story of Alcmaeon, Orestes, CEdipua, 
 Meliogarus, Thyestes, Telephon, and some others, 
 whose fate it was to do and suffer terrible tfongt. 
 10 The finest tragedy, therefore, according to the 
 
 70 That is, of all tragedies composed according to rule, that 
 which is founded upon a story of this kind is the best. He does 
 not say of all tragedies, because there were some which were 
 meant to appear as if no attention whatever had been paid to
 
 ARISTOTLE'S POF.TICS. 53 
 
 rules of art, 7I is a composition of this nature. 
 Those -men accordingly err, who find fault with 
 Euripides because he does this in his tragedies, 
 and because many of them, and unhappily. For 
 this, as has been said, is correct. 'And a very great 
 proof is, that such pieces, if they be properly ar- 
 ranged, appear, with the assistance of scenery and 
 acting, most tragical ; and that Euripides, though 
 he but indifferently disposes the other parts, seems 
 notwithstanding the most tragic of the poets. Se- 
 cond in excellence, by some called first, is that com- 
 position which has a double connection, and which 
 ends, like the Odyssey, in opposite ways with re- 
 spect to the good and to the bad : 73 it appears to 
 be first only on account of the weakness of the 
 spectators. For such poets, in their works, attend 
 to the pleasure of the spectators. But this is not 
 the pleasure to be derived from tragedy, but rather 
 the peculiar one of comedy ; because there, men, 
 who in the story may have been the greatest ene- 
 mies, like Orestes and JSgistheus, becoming friends 
 at the end, go out, and neither dies by the hand of 
 the other. 
 
 XXVII. The terrible and pitiable may arise on 
 the one hand from what is seen ; and on the other, 
 
 ru'e in their composition, but which from the interest of their 
 story, their beauty of expression, or the excellence of their sce- 
 nery were extremely pleasing. 
 
 71 EC r*urr,f rut rvfaftvi IJVK, is of this composition. 
 
 72 An ending altogether unhappy is too mocli for the feclinga 
 of ome audiences, nd this, he c!!
 
 3* ARISTOTLE'S POETICS 
 
 from the connection of the things recorded, which 
 latter is preferable, and is the mode pursued by the 
 better poet. The story therefore ought to be so 
 arranged, that the person who listens to a relation 
 of the circumstances, even without the assistance 
 of shew, should shudder and tremble at the*: vents ; 
 just as one would do, who should hear the story of 
 CEdipus. But to effect this by means of what is 
 seen, belongs less to the art, and requires external 
 aid. w Those again, who produce by the assistance 
 of stage effect, not the terrible, but the monstrous 
 only, have nothing in common with tragedy : for 
 we must not expect from tragedy every species of 
 pleasure, but only what is peculiar to it. Since 
 then the poet ought to produce pleasure from pity 
 and fear by imitating, it is evident that it should 
 be done in the actions represented. We will now 
 consider, which of those events that really happen, 
 appear terrible, and which pitiable. But it is re- 
 quisite that such be the actions of friends towards 
 one another, or of enemies, or of indifferent per- 
 sons. If, however, an enemy kill an enemy, he re- 
 presents nothing pitiable, either when perpetrating 
 or meditating the action, 74 except what arises from 
 our own feelings ; so also with indifferent persons. 
 
 73 This alludes to the introduction of such characters a* 
 Force and Violence in Prometheus chained, of Oceanus inonnti d 
 on a griffin's back, and of lo in the shape of n cow, all of which 
 are reprobated as being monstrous without boiny terrible. 
 
 74 In either of these cases we feel little else than that nrer- 
 Rion to murder wlii-jh is natural to man. But if ;i friend kill a 
 friend, or a relation kill a relation, Mit : iout knowing- the person 
 whom he murdrrs, then our pity is excited.
 
 ARISTOTLE'S POETICS. 35' 
 
 But when actions which excite passion, are com- 
 mitted among friends ; if, for example, a son kill, 
 or meditate upon killing, a father - a brother, a bro- 
 ther a mother, her son or a son, his mother 7S or 
 do any other deed of this nature these are the in- 
 cidents to be sought for. :6 It is not right to alter 
 traditionary stories ; I mean such as Clytemnestra 
 dying by the hand of Orestes, and Eriphyle by that 
 of Alcmaeon ; but the poet ought himself to in- 
 vent, as well as use with propriety, those which 
 are handed down. What we call using with pro- 
 priety, we will more fully explain. One way is, 
 as the ancients did, to represent the agents as per- 
 forming some action, knowing and being aware 
 of what they are about ; in which manner Euripides 
 made Medea destroy her children. Another, that 
 they do some terrible deed, but do it in ignorance, 
 and afterwards discover the friendship which sub- 
 sists between them ; like the CEdipus of Sophocles. 
 77 This, to be sure, is out of the drama ; but it may 
 be in the tragedy 4 like the Alcmaeon of Astydamas, 
 
 75 There are other things besides death, which under those 
 circumstances would excite pity, such as cruel treatment, in- 
 sults, confinement, &>c. 
 
 76 This is not meant to contradict what has been said before, 
 namely, that there is no necessity for a poet's confining himself 
 to mere matter of fact. On the contrary we are expressly told 
 that he ought to exert his own invention ; in other words, he 
 may assign what motives he pleases for the performance of the 
 grand catastrophe, and relate whatever previous adventures he 
 thinks fit, provided he does not alter the great occurrence upon 
 which the whole story tarns. 
 
 77 CEdipug has killed his father and married his mother be- 
 fore the play begins, and this is what is meant by i|* r> 3{*p- 
 res, out of the drama.
 
 3$ v ARISTOTLE'S POETICS. 
 
 or the Telegon in Ulysses wounded. A third way 
 is, that the person who is about to do some inex- 
 piable deed through ignorance, makes a discovery 
 before he has perpetrated it. And besides these, 
 there is no other ; for an action must or must not 
 be done, and the agents must or must not know 
 what they are about, ~ 8 Of these, that which repre- 
 sents a person who knows what he is doing, as medi- 
 tating and not performing an action, is the worst ; 
 for it has something detestable in it, though not 
 tragical, because it is without passion. Where- 
 fore no one does it, except rarely ; as the condurt 
 of Haemon in the Antigone towards Creon. Next 
 worst is that he complete the action. ~ 9 But it is 
 better, that the person should perform an action in 
 ignorance, and make the discovery after he has 
 done it, for it raises no feeling of detestation, and 
 the recognition is matter of astonishment. The 
 last method however is the best ; I mean as in the 
 Cresphontes, * when Merope is about to kill her 
 
 78 The hero of n tragedy onght not to meditate the death of 
 somebody else, and be prevented from fulfilling his intention, 
 unless by bi.s own death. Were the play to leave both parties, 
 at its conclusion, in jthe same situation they were in, when it 
 began, neither pity nor fear could possibly he excited ; but if 
 the death of the hero be the means of saving the oth-er, the story 
 will of course change its character, and instead of simple, be- 
 come complex. The beginning of this sentence relates to what 
 is said in the one inimediately^efore, namely, that an action must 
 or must not be done, and that the agents must or must not know 
 what they ar about. 
 
 79 That one man, for instance, should kill another, and after- 
 wards discover that the person whom he slew was his own fa- 
 ther. 
 
 80 By this it will be seen, that a tragedy among the ancients 
 did not absolutely require that any blood should be spilt. When
 
 ARISTOTLE'S POETICS. 37 
 
 OB, she does not kill him, but recognises him : 
 and in the Iphigenia a sister does the same with 
 her brother : and in the Helle, a son being about 
 to deliver up his mother, remembers her. On this 
 account, tragedies, as has been said, are composed 
 upon but few families. 8l Because poets, when 
 seeking for subjects, discovered, not by adherence 
 to artificial rules, but by chance, the propriety of 
 suiting such incidents to the stories. They are ac- 
 cordingly obliged to have recourse to those fami- 
 lies, among whom such misfortunes have occurred. 
 Enough has been said on the composition of ac- 
 tions, and of the qualities which the stories ought 
 to possess. 
 
 XXVIII. Respecting manners, again, there are 
 four things which the poet ought to attend to. 
 8i One and the first is, that they be useful. A per- 
 son will possess manner, if, as has been said, his 
 speech or action make manifest some predetermi- 
 
 one near relation or friend brought anothei to the point of death, 
 the passions of fear and pity were sufficiently excited, and the 
 upectators -were rather pleased to see the actual perpetration of 
 the deed prevented. 
 
 81 Th meaning- of these two sentences seems to be, that as 
 the antient poets had accidentally fixed upon a few families 
 from which to take subjects for their tragedies, and the mo- 
 derns had chosen to confine themselves to the same names, for 
 what reason does not appear, they must not attribute to their 
 heroes actions quite different from what those great masters had 
 made them perform, 
 
 82 Whether I he character introduced be naturally good r 
 bad, his manner must be such as will shew his nature. If a 
 2*rmd man be represented, his manner mutt make his goodness 
 apparent, and so also with a bad.
 
 38 ARISTOTLE'S POETICS. 
 
 nation ; it will be good if it shew a good predeter- 
 mination, and bad if it shew a bad one. And it is 
 so in every situation ; for a woman is useful and 
 so is a slave ; though the first of them is perhaps 
 more frequently bad than good, the second always 
 bad Secondly, that they be becoming ; thus there 
 is a manner which suits a man, but is not becom- 
 ing for a woman, namely, to be bold and terrible. 
 83 Thirdly, that they be like; for this is different 
 from making manner useful or becoming, as has 
 been stated. 8 * And fourthly, that they be equal ; 
 for if the person who supplies the imitation, and 
 is supposed to possess a manner of a certain kind, 
 be unequal, the manner given him in representation 
 ought to be equally incongruous. Menelaus in the 
 Orestes, for instance, is an example of unnecessary 
 badness of manner ; the lamentation of Ulysses in 
 the Scylla, and the speech of Melanippes, of the 
 indecorous and unbecoming ; and Iphigenia in 
 the Aulis, of the unequal ; for when supplicating, 
 she does not resemble what she afterwards becomes. 
 
 8" The difference between likeness and u$efulness\n manner is 
 made most apparent by nn example. If the character to be re- 
 presented, be a man falsely considered by the world as a miser, 
 and if his mariner he meant to be like, he must be made to 
 speak and act according' to the notion generally entertained of 
 him. If on the other hand the author wish it to he uiicftjl or 
 becoming, he must speak and act as his own disposition would 
 dictate. 
 
 84 If tlie manner of the person represented, be in reality 
 variable and uncertain, we must take care to make it equally 
 so in the representation, but as we begun so must we end. 
 Thus if a man be represented as very brave at the commence- 
 ment of a piece, it will nut do to make a coward of him towards 
 the conclusion.
 
 ARISTOTLE'S POETICS. 39 
 
 But in manners, as well as in the connection of 
 events, it is requisite to aim at either the neces- 
 sary or the probable, 85 so that it be necessary or 
 probable, that such and such a man say or do such 
 and such things, and necessary or probable, that 
 this action be performed after that. K It is evi- 
 dent, therefore, that the unravelling of the plot, 
 ought to proceed from the story itself, and not as 
 in the Medea, and llias, where the sailing from 
 Troy is represented, by machinery ; but machinery 
 may be employed in matters out of the drama, ei- 
 ther such as happened before it, which a man can- 
 not know, or such as are to follow, which require 
 relation and description ; for we attribute to the 
 Gods, the power of seeing all things. *? Neither in 
 the actions represented, ought any to be without a 
 reason ; if this cannot be, let it be out of the trage- 
 dy j as in the CEdipus of Sophocles. But since 
 
 85 The meaning of tliis very confused sentence is, that it is 
 fts necessary for a yenng man to speak and act like a yotinff 
 man, and an old mail like an old man, a fur the effect to follow 
 the cause. 
 
 86 This alludes to the practice of bringing upon the stage ships, 
 enchanted cars, ice. in which the characters were carried off', 
 and so the piece concluded. It also has reference to superaa- 
 turnl agency, which he says should not be employed, unless the 
 poet wish to inform the audience of events which have'taken 
 place before the commencement of his tragedy, and have SOHMS 
 relation to it, or of those which are to follow, for the Gods are 
 allowed to have the power of seeing all things. The llias here 
 spoken of, is not the epic poem, but a tragedy founded on the 
 ame stoj-y. 
 
 87 Nothing done upon the stage should appear to he with- 
 out H ca^isr. If it be absolutely necessary that something 
 tn-ist have boon done, for which there is no apnnrent cau>e, 
 Ji't it have been done before <tte period of the play's commence- 
 ment.
 
 40 ARISTOTLE'S POETIC*. 
 
 trneredy is an imitation of better men, we ought 
 to copy good portrait painters ; for they, preserving 
 the peculiarity of shape, and making the. portraits 
 like, paint them handsomer than the originals. 
 Thus ought a poet, when imitating irascible and 
 slothful men, or those who have such peculiarities 
 in their manners, to produce an example M of mo- 
 deration, rather than of extreme roughness, as A- 
 giithon and Homer do Achilles. These then he 
 ought to attend to, and besides them, * to the gra- 
 tification of those senses, which do not necessarily 
 attend the poetic art, for in what relates to them-, 
 it is often possible to err. But sufficient notice 
 h5 been taken of these in the published tracts. 
 
 XXIX. What recognition is, has already been 
 stated. But there are several sorts of recognition : 
 * the first is that which belongs least to the art> 
 and which most men from poverty of genius make 
 use of, viz. recognition by marks. Of these, some 
 are natural ; as the spear which the earth-born 
 Thebans bear, or stars, such as Carcinus uses in 
 his Thyestes ;. others, acquired ; some of which are 
 
 88 That is, the finest parts of his character ought to be 
 brought forward, and the bad pat ts kept out of sight. 
 
 89 It is quite impossible to translate this literally and to 
 make common English of it. '1 he meaning is, that some at- 
 trntion ought to be paid to the scenery and music as well as t 
 the incidents, related in the play. 
 
 90 The several ways of being- recognised by signs are, first,, 
 by natural mark, such as we may have been bori* with ; secondly, 
 by the near of ol<l hurts ; and thirdly, by wearing a ring or auj 
 oiker thing which may hare been given as a token.
 
 ARISTOTLE'S POETICS. 41 
 
 npon the body, as scars, and others unconnected 
 with it, as necklaces, and as the cradle in the Ty- 
 rone, by which a discovery is made. And we may 
 employ them to greater and less advantage : thus 
 Ulysses was recognised on account of his scar, in 
 one way by his nurse, and in another by the swine- 
 herds. But these, and all of this nature, which 
 are used to gain belief, have less to do with art j 
 Si those again, which proceed from peripatie, like 
 that in the Niptri, are better. 91 The second kind 
 of recognition is that invented by the poet, and 
 therefore without art : it is thus in the Iphigenia, 
 that Orestes makes himself known to his sister, 
 she having^rif made herself known to him, (she 
 by means of a letter, he by marks ; these latter 
 therefore the poet, and not the story, calls what 
 he pleases ; wherefore it approaches the error we 
 have mentioned, because the poet might have pro- 
 duced any others) ; and of this kind is the voice of 
 
 91 Vl'hen Ulysses made himself known to the swineherds, lie 
 himself shewed them the scar, t'-at they tni^ht be convinced he 
 was not deceiving them. This is what Aristotle calls u using- a 
 mark for the purpose of gaining belief." The same scar made 
 him be recognised by his nurse, but in quite a diflerent manner. 
 She saw it accidentally when he was u ashing his feet (ia the 
 Nijitri). This recognition therefore proceeded frcwi pcripatie, 
 or change of situation, and is in Aristotle's opinion preferable 
 to the other. 
 
 92 The meaning of this apparent parodox is, thnt nroording 
 to the rules for the composition of tragedy, recognition should 
 arise from the incidents in the piece, and Hot be produced by 
 the will or fancy of the poet. The manner in which Iphi^euia 
 makes herself known to Orestes is an instance of the first, and 
 the manner in which he convinces hrr of his being htr brother, 
 of the second, because the poet might have just as well em- 
 ployed any other mark, as make him tell her of the spear which 
 lay in her apartment.
 
 ARISTOTLE'S POETICS. 
 
 the shuttle, in the Tereus of Sophocles. The third 
 kind, is that brought about by memory, when a re- 
 membrance is awakened by seeing some object ? 
 as in the Cyprians of Diczeogenes, where a person 
 looked* at a picture and wept ; and in the story of 
 Alcinous ; for Ulysses heard the sound of a harp, 
 and remembering past events, wept ; and was thus 
 discovered. The fourth kind, is that effected by 
 reasoning ; * as in the Choephori, (that somebody 
 like had come ; that nobody was lifce bat Orestes ; 
 he therefore had come); and in the Iphigenia of 
 Polydes the sophist, ( M for it is probable that Ores- 
 tes would argue, that as his sister was sacrificed, 
 it followed that he toe should be sacrificed) ; and 
 in the Tydeus of Theodectes, (that coming as if to 
 find his son, he himself dies) ; and also in the Phi- 
 nides, for when they saw the place, they perceived 
 their fate, that it was destined they should die- 
 there, because there they had been exposed: 
 There is besides a species of recognition produced 
 by the false calculation of the audience ; as in the 
 ease of the false messenger in the Ulysses. For he- 
 said he should know a bow which he had not seen, 
 and the audience expecting that he would make 
 himself known by means of that bow, make a false 
 calculation. But the best recognition of all, is 
 that produced by the events, as astonishment irt 
 
 93 In the Choephori of jEschylns, Eleetra having 1 jrone to. 
 the tomb of Agamemnon to pour out a libation, discovers foot- 
 steps round it very much resembling her own, and tbence con- 
 cludes that Orestes is come. 
 
 94 This is afterwards explained, bnt the other playa art lost.
 
 ARISTOTLE'S POETICS. 43 
 
 this case is excited by probabilities, like that in the 
 CEdipus of Sophocles, and in the Iphigenia, be- 
 cause it is probable that she should wish to give 
 the letter in charge. For this is the only kind of 
 recognition without adventitious signs and neck- 
 laces ; and next to this is the recognition which is 
 effected by reasoning:. 
 
 XXX. The poet onght to connect his story, and 
 polish his language, by x placing things as much 
 as possible before his eyes ; for thus- by examining 
 them with great minuteness, and being present, 
 as it were, at their representation, he will discover 
 what is proper, and the reverse will least readily 
 elurle his observation. The blame bestowed upon 
 Corcinus is a; proof of this ; for Amphiaraus had 
 ascended from the temple, a circumstance which he 
 forgot the audience does ot see Tke piece there- 
 fere was damned- at the representation, because the 
 audience was offended at this He ought also, as 
 much as possible, to make the player assist his speech 
 with gestures. ^ For those men are naturally most 
 persuasive, who are affected by any passions ; thus 
 he who- is himself agitated, most truly agitate* 
 
 *>5 The poet ought to fancy hfmself a witness, of the per^ 
 formance of his own tragedy. At the occurrence of every ad- 
 venture, therefore, he ought to ask himself why it was intro- 
 duced, and tf he cannot give a satisfactory answer to that 
 question, he may rest assured it has no business there. 
 
 96 It is a tliaig serf evident, that the man who wishes to 
 inflame an audience to anger, wilt do it more readily by aj- 
 pearing to be angry himself, than if he were to tell an irritating 
 itoiy in a calm and indifferent toue of voice,.
 
 44 ARISTOTLE'S POETICS. 
 
 others, and he who is angry himself, excites anger 
 in others ; for which reason, poetry belongs rather 
 to a man of quick genius than to a n.'.ulman ; be- 
 cause the one has a ready invention, and the other 
 is distracted. ^ He should likewise give a general 
 arrangement, both to traditionary stories, and any 
 he may himself have invented ; and then compose 
 and introduce episodes. For thus, I say, he will 
 have a general \iew: L-t us take for example 
 the story of Iphigenia. A certain maid being de- 
 voted for sacrifice, and having disappeared in a 
 manner unknown to those who were about to sa- 
 crifice her, arrived in another country, where it 
 was the custom to sacrifice strangers to the God- 
 dess, and obtained that priesthood. vSome time 
 after it happens that the brother of the priestess 
 comes there : why did he '? because a God ordered 
 him to go there, for some reason out of the gene- 
 ral outline; but the purpose for which he came is 
 out of the story, and being come, he is seized, and 
 when about to be sacrificed, a recognition takes 
 place; either as Euripides would do it; or as Po- 
 lyidus has dons, he ((he brother) naturally saying 
 that not only his sister, but he also must be of- 
 fered up ; hence his preservation. After this, hav- 
 ing given names to his persons, he may insert epi- 
 sodes. But he must see that tliose episodes be 
 suitable j * like the madness, in the case of Ores- 
 
 97 Beforf IIP tliinks of inserting episodes he ought properly 
 to arrange the head* of his story. 
 
 98 The madness of Orestes is the cause of his capture, and 
 the person who brings him before Iphigenia rery naturally re-
 
 ARISTOTLE'S POETICS. 45 
 
 tes, by which he was taken, and his preservation 
 by the purification. In plays the episodes are 
 short ; but an epic poem is lengthened by them. 
 For the real story of the Odyssey is trifling. A 
 certain man having been absent from home for 
 many years, is watched by Neptune, and is alone ; 
 in the mean time his family is so situated, that his 
 wealth is seized by suitors, and his son's life con- 
 spired against ; this man is .wrecked, and arrives 
 at home, where having discovered himself to sume 
 of his people, he makes an attack upon the suitors, 
 is saved himself, and destroys his enemies. This 
 is the particular story; the others are only episodes. 
 
 XXXI. The component parts of every tragedy, 
 are the plot and the unravelling ; " those incidents 
 which occur out of the play, and often some of 
 those in it, form the plot j the rest is the unravel- 
 ling. The plot, 1 say, continues from the begin- 
 ning till that part where the change to good for- 
 tune commences, and which is last - } the unravel- 
 
 I ites what he had said and done, to account for his having seized 
 iii in. '1 his is the first episode. '1 he second is equally proper. 
 Iphigeuia having discovered who Orestes is, jni-teiuls to king 
 Thoas, that the stranger being polluted with blood, will not be 
 a proper !>acritice till both he uud the statue aie washed in the 
 ta. Permission is given for the performance of tlir ceremony^ 
 by which means both she and her brother escape, carrying \vitk 
 thfin the statue of the goddess. 
 
 9!' The circumstances which are .supposed to have taken place 
 before the time of the play's commencement, and to have been 
 the causes of the catastrophe on which it hinges, as well as the 
 obstacles iu the play which retard that catastrophe, make up th 
 plot. The uiiikvelling is the consequence of its 
 meut.
 
 46 ARISTOTLE'S POETICS. 
 
 ling, from the commencement of the change till 
 the end of the piece. Thus in the Lynceus of Thco- 
 dectus, the incidents and the capture of the boy 
 form the plot ; the unravelling is from the com- 
 plaining of djath to the end. 
 
 XXXII. ' There are four kinds of tragedy ; and 
 just so many parts have been mentioned : first 
 complex, the whole of which is made up of peri- 
 patie and recognition ; second, pathetic, such as 
 the Ajaxes and the Ixions ; third, moral, like the 
 Phthiotides and the Peleus ; and fourth, such 
 as the Phorcides, the Prometheus, and those nvV^e 
 scene is in Hades. The chief endeavour ought to 
 be, to be master of r.'.l, but if not, of the principal, 
 and the greatest number of them, particularly now 
 that men speak ill of poets. For poets having al- 
 ready excelled in each of the kinds, they now; ex- 
 pect that one should surpass all in their peculiar 
 
 1 Aristotle has said that the four parts of tragedy which re- 
 late to i's quality are, the subject, the manner, the sentiment, 
 and the discourse. To these he afterwards adds the recogni- 
 tion, the peripatie, and the passion. Of these the subject, the 
 eflftiment, bad the discourse, are common to all; but peiipatic, 
 recognition, passion, aud manner, are those which distinguish 
 the four kinds mentioned. Peripalic and recognition compose 
 the complex, neither of them having- any tiling to do with the 
 sini; lo, which is made up of a simple plot, and a simple un- 
 ravelling without any change in lyiiowlc.l,;! , plnt.v, or circum- 
 stances. Where murders, wounds, and such like circumstance! 
 are introduced, the tragedy, whether simple or complex, is pa- 
 thetic, because it is with these that passion is COMOrBcd. .And 
 where there is nothing of the kind where the play enils \\ ilh- 
 OBt riolence, by making 1 ,-i <r<M>'l man l>!ipp\,or win K- the scene 
 is Uid in lla<ie.i, where no siicii thin^n can happen, theu u the 
 tragedy purely moral.
 
 ARISTOTLE'S POETICS. 47 
 
 excellencies. * But it is perhaps unjust to call one 
 tragedy the same or different from another, accord- 
 ing to the story j this ought rather to be said of those 
 whose plot and unravelling are the same ; because 
 many men who invent the plot well, unravel it 
 badly; whereas both should always be such as will 
 be received with applause. The poet must bear in 
 mind what has been often said, not to make tra- 
 gedy an epic composition ; I call that epic, which 
 includes many stories, as if one were to make the 
 whole Iliad the subject of a tragedy ; there indeed, 
 (in the Iliad, as an epic poem) on account of its 
 length, all the parts receive a proper extension j 
 3 but in dramas the event is quite contrary to ex- 
 pectation. A proof of this is, that as many as have 
 made the whole destruction of Troy their subject, 
 and not particular parts of it, as Euripides did the 
 Niobe, 4 and as JEschylus did, either fail entirely, 
 
 2 Though the same story may be the subject of two poems, it 
 may be drossed up with incidents so different, and handled in 
 so diti'erent a niaunei, that the two poems cannot be called the 
 same. On the other hand, the subjrct may be quite different, and 
 yet the incidents, the imagery, the versification, &c. so exactly si- 
 milar, that the one poem may with much more propriety be 
 called a copy of the other. 
 
 3 If a person were to suppose, that he could, in a tragedy, 
 give the proper length to a number of episodes, he would find 
 himself deceived. No episodes should be introduced, except 
 such ris are in strict connection with the principal story, and 
 even too many of them are bad, because they destroy the unity. 
 
 4 The Creek is **/ ft* utirif A.ir%v\tt, which does not mean 
 that jCschylns committed that fault which he is just blaming 1 , 
 but is merely a repetition of the commencement of the sentence, 
 as ifhe would say that "they erred who did not take a part of 
 it as Euripides did, and who did not take a part as ./Eschylui 
 did."
 
 48 ARISTOTLE'S POETICS. 
 
 of carry it through badly ; since by this alone Aga- 
 thon was unsuccessful j 5 whilst in peripaties and 
 simple actions, they aim at what they desire with 
 wonderful success. For it is something tragical and 
 philanthropic. And this is the case, when a wise 
 man, who is wicked, is orer-reached, like Sisyphus, 
 and a brave but unjust one, defeated. It is also 
 agreeable to probability, as Agathon says ; for it it 
 probable that many things will happen contrary 
 to probability. It is necessary likewise to consider 
 * the chorus as one of the actors, as being a part 
 of the whole, and as carrying on the performance 
 along with the others, not after the manner of Eu- 
 ripides, but after that of Sophocles. Among the 
 other tragic writers, indeed, the parts assigned to it 
 belong no more to the particular story than to any 
 other tragedy ; wherefore it sings any kind of 
 songs, of which practice Agathon was the author ; 
 and where is the difference between singing songs 
 which will suit any play, and inserting a speech or 
 a whole episode, taken from one piece into an- 
 other. 
 
 5 Although Ag-athon and the others fail in the subject, their 
 ff ripaties arid recognitions are wonderfully successful, because 
 what they aim at there, is something 1 pleasing 1 , simple, and tra- 
 gical. 
 
 6 Tlie chorus were introduced as mere spectators of what 
 the principal characters were doing, but then says Aristotle, 
 they ought to be interested spectators. Their songs should not 
 be of an indifferent nature, but should relate solely to what 
 is going on, and in such a manner as will help to elucidate the 
 piece. In this respect Sophocles was superior to Euripides, 
 because the song-s which the choruses of the latter sung, had of- 
 ten BO reference to the story of the play.
 
 ARISTOTLE'S POETIf . 49 
 
 XXXIII. Of the other parts we have now 
 spoken ; and it remains to treat of discourse and 
 sentiment. What relates to sentiment, however, 
 will be found in the treatise upon rhetoric, as it 
 more peculiarly belongs to that art. For those 
 matters which have reference to sentiment, ought 
 to be produced by reasoning ; and their parts are, 
 demonstration, refutation, and the excitement of 
 the passions ; as fear, pity, anger, and such like ; 
 and making a thing great or small. It is evident 
 then, that when in the performance, it is necessary 
 to represent things as pitiable, terrible, great, or 
 probable, the poet must employ the same forms 
 os the orator ; 7 but so far they differ, 8 that in 
 the one case the occurrences must appear of this 
 kind, without his proving them to be such, and in 
 the other, that they be rendered such by the speaker 
 in his harangue, and become so from the colouring 
 which the speech has given them. For what would 
 be the use of an orator, if things were to appear 
 in a proper light, without his speech ? 
 
 XXXIV. With respect to those matters which 
 have reference to discourse, one species of enquiry 
 
 7 This sentence will not bear a more literal translation ; but 
 as all the words which are not in the original are in Italics, the 
 reader will find no difficulty in reconciling 1 the English with 
 the Greek. 
 
 8 The subject of a poem ought to be of such a nature, that 
 the bare relation of facts will excite those passions. The orator, 
 on the other hand, is often oblig-ed to make those things appear 
 terrible which are in reality pitiable, and those pitiable which 
 are in reality terrible. 
 
 r
 
 50 ARISTOTLE'S POETIOS. 
 
 is into the forms of pronunciation, 9 with which, 
 the player, and the person who considers this art 
 of primary importance, ought to be acquainted ; 
 as what is command, entreaty, narration, threat, 
 interrogation, reply, and such like. No blame wor- 
 thy of serious attention is attached to the poet for 
 his knowledge or ignorance of these. For who 
 Would suppose there was an error, where Protago- 
 ras finds fault ? that the person who is supposed to 
 be entreating, speaks as if he were commanding, 
 " Sing Goddess the wrath." Because, to order 
 one to do a thing, he says, is command. This exa- 
 mination, therefore, must be reserved for another 
 treatise, and not for the poetics. The folloiving are 
 the parts of all discourse ; element, (i. c. letter} 
 syllable, conjunction, noun, verb, article, case, and 
 sentence, A letter is an indivisible sound ; not 
 every sort, but thnt from which an intelligible 
 sound can be produced ; for the cries of beasts are 
 indivisible, none of which I call a letter. Its kinds 
 are vowel, semivowel, and mute. A vowel is that 
 which has an audible sound, without any allision, 
 as O or A ; a semivowel, that which has an audi- 
 ble sound, with an allision, as L and R ; and a 
 mute 5s that which with the addition of one of its 
 own kind has no sound, but is audible along with 
 those which have a sound, as G or D. These 
 again differ, according to the shape of the mouth, 
 
 These matters evidently belong more to the player than tlic 
 port, because by merely changing- the tons; of voice in which 
 ht slinks, a man in* y make that command which was before 
 entreaty.
 
 ARISTOTLE'S POETICS. 51 
 
 and the organs with which they are pronounced, by ' 
 their hardness and softness, their length and short- 
 ness ; as well as by the acuteness, the gravity or 
 mediocrity of pronunciation ; of which one must 
 treat separately, in a work on vcrsiiication. Sylla- 
 ble is a nonsignificant sound, composed of a mute, 
 and a letter which has sound, for GR make a syl- 
 lable both without the A, and with it, as GRA. 
 To examine their differences, belongs also -to a 
 work on versification. Conjunction is a nonsignifi- 
 cant sound, which neither prevents nor produces a 
 significant sound, which is made up of more sounds 
 than one, and may be placed either at the extre- 
 mities, or in the middle, although it is not elegant 
 to place one by itself at the beginning of a speech ; 
 such as IJTOJ Srj ; or it is a nonsignificant sound, which 
 is employed to make one significant sound out of 
 unore than one which have meaning. 10 Article is 
 a nonsignificant sound which marks the beginning, 
 the end, or the distinction of a sentence, such as I 
 call the 6, the y, ;md others ; or it is a nonsignifi- 
 cant sound, which neither binders nor produces a sig- 
 nificant sound, which is made up of more sounds 
 than one, either at the extremities or the middle. 
 Noun is a compound word, significant without re- 
 ference to time, no part of which has by itself a 
 meaning ; for we do not use even double words, 
 as if each part had a meaning by itself; thus in 
 
 10 It would be needless to waste time in explaining 1 thing;* 
 which will be found much bettor done in any Grirek Grammar. 
 V>'e himli only remark that uuder the head *f article, AmUtU 
 teems to include [iQftoua.
 
 5 ARISTOTLE'S POETICS. 
 
 the word Theodoras, the dorus has no signification. 
 Verb is a compound word, significant with refe- 
 rence to time, no part of which, as in the nouns, 
 has any signification by itself; thus, the word man, 
 or white, does not distinguish time, but walks, or 
 did walk, does the one the present, and the other 
 the past. " Case is either that of a verb or a 
 noun ; one kind signifying in this manner of him, 
 to him, and so on j another referring to the singular 
 or plural numbers, as man, or men ; and a third, 
 " to tone and gesture, as in asking a question, or giv- 
 ing a command; thus, Did he walk? or walk is 
 the case of a verb, according to these distinctions. 
 Sentence is a compound significant word, some 
 parts of which have meaning when taken sepa- 
 rately ; for every sentence is not composed of 
 nouns and verbs, I3 like the definition of man, 14 but 
 may exist without verbs, and yet have a part as 
 significant, as Cleon, in the sentence Cleon walks. 
 '* A sentence is called single in two ways, because 
 it is significant of only a single thing, or of that 
 
 11 Case has here a much more extended signification thai 
 we usually five it, for it comprehends number and mood as well 
 as case. 
 
 It vnxfirtx*, " the use the player would make of it." 
 
 13 Man is an animal made up of a rational soul and an or- 
 ganized body. 
 
 14 " O how wonderful" is a sentence of this kind, in which 
 there is no verb, but one part of which, " wonderful," is just as 
 significant as the word Cleon in the sentence Cleon walks. 
 
 15 The term sentence it must be remembered, has here 
 much more extended signification than that which we gene- 
 rally give to it. It means a whole oration or poem, ia short a 
 subject, as well as what w usually call u sentence.
 
 4fliSTOTLE'S POETICS. 53 
 
 which from more, becomes so by connection ; thus 
 the Iliad is one sentence by connection ; and the $e- 
 jinition of man is one, because it signifies a single 
 object. 
 
 XXXV. There are two species of noun, one 
 simple, and the other double. I call that simple 
 which is composed of parts which have no signifi- 
 cation, as yij. One kind of double is composed of 
 a significant and a nonsignificant part ; another, of 
 two significant parts. There may be also a triple, 
 quadruple, and multiplex noun, like many of the 
 Megalioti, as Hermocaicoxanthus. But every noun 
 is, proper, or foreign, metaphor, or ornament, 
 invented, or extended, diminished, or changed. 
 115 I call that proper which each particular set of 
 people use and foreign, that which others employ ; 
 it is therefore evident that a proper and a foreign 
 word have the same meaning, though not to the 
 same people ; for the word Sigunon is proper to 
 the Cyprians, but foreign to us. Metaphor again, 
 is the introduction of a word, l ~ whose real significa- 
 tion is different from that in which we use it, from 
 genus to species, from species to genus, from spe- 
 cies to species, or by analogy. l8 I call it a meta- 
 
 16 This does not allude to the difference of lan^nn^e.s only, 
 but to those words which have been },:iiTo\>ctl from one, and 
 incorporated into another. The English supplies us v. ilh many 
 examples of this kind. 
 
 17 All this is required to g-ive the proper sense of the word 
 
 AAMWMP. 
 
 18 \Ve nse the word " stands" metaphorically frorfi (jeans to 
 pecjet, because <* to stand" is a generic term, including uu-
 
 54 ARISTOTLE'S POETICS. 
 
 plior from genus to species, when we say " Th 
 ship stood for me," because to be at anchor is a 
 species of standing. From species to genus, " U- 
 lysses did ten thousand gallant actions," for tea 
 thousand is a great number, and is now used for 
 the generic term many. I9 From species to species, 
 when we use metaphorically the terms " drag 
 away" and " cut," for both are species of the ge- 
 nus " to deprive." " I call that analogy, when of 
 four terms, the second has the same relation to the 
 first, which the fourth has to the third ; for we may 
 use the fourth for the second, and the second for 
 the fourth. And sometimes they add to that which, 
 expresses the resemblance, the thing for which it 
 stands. I mean as in this manner ; a cup has the 
 same relation to Bacchus, that a shield has to 
 Mars j 41 the poet therefore will call a shield, the 
 cup of Mars, and a cup, the shield of Bacchus. 
 Ervening in like manner is the same to the day, 
 that old age is to life ; he will therefore call even- 
 ing, the old age of the day, and old age, the even- 
 
 Her it as species, all the modes of being free from motion. 
 " Ten thousand" again, frem species to genus, because it is only 
 a species of" many." 
 
 19 It is quite impossible to translate the passage into En- 
 glish. We have however given exactly the meaning. 
 
 JJO All this is tolerably perspicuous, but we will endeavour, 
 by analyzmg the best of the two exampfes, to make it more so. 
 Life, old age, day, and evening, are four terms which bear an 
 exact a-nalog-T to oue another. We may therefore apply the 
 fourth to the first, and the second to the third, and use the third 
 far the first, and thefourtli/w the second; and the metaphor will 
 r ave perfect analogy. 
 
 tl That is, if a person speak metaphorically of a shield, ht 
 dots not call it limply a cup, but the cup of Mars.
 
 ARISTOTLE S POETICS. 55 
 
 ing of life ; or as Empedocles has it, the sun-et 
 of life. In some cases there is no analogical term, 
 invented, aa but ike expression is nevertheless used 
 as if there were j thus to scatter seed, means to 
 sow, but the light from the sun is without a name ; 
 it has, however, the same reference to the sun, 
 which sowing has to the seed, whence is the ex- 
 pression, " Sowing the god-formed Hame." Besides 
 this mode, a poet may use the metaphor differently, 
 when by adding a word of a different meaning, he 
 destroys something of its peculiarity ; as if we 
 were to call a shield, not the bottle of Mars, but a 
 bottle without wine. A made word, is one which 
 has received no signification from others, but 
 which the poet himself employs, for there appear 
 to be some such as Egvuraj for Kepara, and Apri- 
 TTjga for 'Jegea. A word again, is lengthened or 
 shortened ; the first, if it be used with a longer 
 vowel than usual, or a syllable added ; the second, 
 if any thing be taken from it ; lengthened as in 
 TroAecoj for iroXsoj, and HujXiaSeo; for HrjAs^ou ; and 
 shortened as in -/\ and 8cu, for xgjdjj and /*. 
 A changed word, when out of one already made, 
 he retains one part and invents another, as Sa^repov 
 for 8eov *. 
 
 tt We apply the term sowing-, which we have borrowed from 
 the agricultural operation of putting seed into the earth, to the 
 un, hut there is nothing about the sun which we can in return 
 apply to farming, therefore the analogy is incomplete. 
 
 * Ornament, it will be seen, is the only one of the six left un- 
 defined, for which two causes are assigned. One is, that Aruv 
 totle supposed it to consist intirely. of metaphor, and did not 
 therefore take the trouble to notice it separately ; the other,
 
 56 ARISTOTLE'S POETICS. 
 
 XXXVI. Again, some nouns are masculine, 
 some feminine, and some neuter. Those are mas- 
 culine which end in v, g, and <r, or any of the let- 
 ters composed of it and the mutes ; and these are 
 two., ^ and J feminines, which end in any of the- 
 vowels which are always long, as in 13 or w, or of 
 those lengthened into a. It therefore happens, 
 that the letters in which masculines and feminities 
 end are equal in number ; for \J/ and are the same. 
 No noun ends in a mute, or in a short vowel ; * 3 in 
 i only three, and in w five - 7 neuters in the vowels 
 we have mentioned, and in v and <r. 
 
 XXXVII. But the excellence of discourse is, 
 that it be perspicuous, and not mean. That is 
 most perspicuous which consists entirely of proper 
 words, but it is poor ; of which the poetry of Cloo- 
 phon and Sthenelus is an example; but that is 
 noble, and surpasses the proper kind, which makes 
 use of uncommon expressions. I cat! a foreign 
 word, a metaphor, an extended word, and every 
 thing beyond a proper word, uncommon. If, at 
 the same time, one were to employ them entirely, 
 his poem would he either a riddle, or a barbarism j 
 if composed entirely of metaphors, if would be a rid- 
 dle, if of foreign words, a barbarism. For it is the 
 peculiarity of a riddle, that the person who relates 
 
 a|d perhaps the most probable is, that this part of the manu- 
 script has been lost. 
 
 23 He must here allude only to contracted nouns, for the 
 filters of many adjectives end in i and </.
 
 ARISTOTLE'S POETICS. *7 
 
 possible events, should mix impossibilities with 
 them. In a work composed of common expres- 
 sions, however, it is not possible to do so ; but in 
 a metaphorical one, it is as "* " I saw a man sol- 
 dering brass to a man with fire," and such like. 
 From the use of foreign words again, comet barba- 
 rism j for which reason they must be intermixed 
 in moderation. Foreign words, therefore, meta- 
 phor, ornament, and the other forms which have 
 been mentioned, will render a poem neither vulgar 
 nor poor ; common expression, on the other hand, 
 will give perspicuity. But extensions, contractions, 
 and alterations of words, will in a great degree 
 tend to the perspicuity of diction, and to its free- 
 dom from vulgarity ; it will render it free from 
 vulgarity, because a diction of this kind has some- 
 thing in it different from the common, as it is be- 
 yond what is usual ; and it will be perspicuous, 
 because it has something in common with the 
 usual mode of expression. Those, therefore, who 
 blame this method of speaking, and who laugh at 
 the poet for employing it, find fault improperly ; 
 thus old Euclid said, that it would be easy to 
 make poems, if one were to allow the writer to ex- 
 tend words to what length he chose * 5 . To ap- 
 pear to employ it in this manner is indeed ridicu- 
 
 24 Which tncaus "I saw one man cupping another," the in- 
 strument employed in that operation being in those days made 
 f brass. 
 
 25 Aristotle here gives two lines which he says Euclid com- 
 posed, "for the purpose of abusing this way nf speaking;. 1 * 
 The passage will not bear translation.
 
 58 ARISTOTLE'S POETICS. 
 
 lous j but a medium is to be preserved equally in 
 all the parts, for the person who uses foreign ex- 
 pressions, metaphors, and the other forms impro- 
 perly, will produce the same effect, as the man who 
 does it on purpose to excite laughter. Of what 
 importance the proper use of them in poe-ms is, 
 may be seen by introducing common expressions 
 into the measure ; for if any one will put common 
 expressions in the room of foreign, or of metaphor, 
 or of any of the other forms, he will perceive that 
 we say truth. Thus ^Eschylus and Euripides hav- 
 ing written the same iambic, and the latter having 
 altered only one word, by inserting a foreign for a 
 common expression, his appears noble, and the 
 other vile. For vEschylus in the Philoctetes has 
 made it, " A cancrous sore which eats the flesh of 
 my foot," but Euripides uses " devours," instead 
 of " eats." * Ariphrades also laughs at tragedies, 
 because they make use of expressions, which no one 
 would employ in common conversation, such as 
 coju.TOJV RTTO, and not OLKO 5co ( aT)y, with others of 
 this kind. But all these, because they are not ia 
 common use, produce freedom from vulgarity in 
 the diction, of which he was ignorant. It is a 
 great thing to make a proper use of each of the 
 forms we have mentioned, namely, double words, 
 and foreign expressions, but the greatest of all, to- 
 have the command of metaphor ; for this alone is 
 a sign of ready genius ; nor indeed can we get it 
 
 * Several examjdos hare hern omitted, because detached M 
 thry are the; will uot bear
 
 ARISTOTLE'S POETICS. & 
 
 from any other source ; cC because to be happy in 
 the metaphors we employ, is the same as to have 
 correct discernment of things. Double words are 
 best adapted for dithyrambics, foreign for heroic, 
 and metaphor for iambic poems. In heroic, how- 
 ever, all the kinds we have mentioned may be em- 
 ployed ; but in iambic, as it principally imitates 
 conversation, those words are suitable which one 
 would make use of in speaking 1 , and these are, 
 common, metaphor, and a ' ornament. 
 
 XXXVII I. Let us be satisfied with what has 
 been said of tragedy and imitation by acting. 
 38 But respecting narrative, and imitation in verse, 
 it is evident, that it ought to put together dramatic 
 stories, just as in tragedy, which relate to one 
 whole and perfect action, having a beginning, a 
 middle, and an end, if like an entire animal, it 
 would produce the pleasure which is peculiar to it ; 
 and that the compositions ought not to resemble 
 histories, in which it is necessary to give a rela- 
 tion, not of a single action, but of one period of 
 time, and of whatever accidents befal one or more 
 persons, during that period, each of which has or 
 
 25 By a correct selection of metaphors, the poet proves him- 
 self well acquainted with the abstract nature of things. 
 
 27 By ornament he means those epithets which are used in 
 common conversation. 
 
 28 An epic poem then, as well as a tragedy, ought to consist 
 of one principal story, intersperaed with no episodes except 
 Mich us would probably or necessarily have happened in the or- 
 dinary course of event*.
 
 60 ARISTOTLE'S POETICS. 
 
 has not a reference to the others just as it happens. 
 For as the sea-fight at Salamis, and the battle of 
 the Carthagenians in Sicily took place at the same 
 time, and yet had no relation to the same end, so 
 also in succeeding periods, one thing frequently 
 happens after another, from which no end arises. 
 Yet very many of the poets do this. Wherefore 
 in this also, as we have have said, Homer appears 
 divine among the others, because he did not at- 
 tempt to celebrate the whole war, although it had 
 both a beginning and an end ; for either it would 
 have been too long, and so difficult to be taken 
 in at one view j or if rendered moderate in extent, 
 it would have been confused from its variety. On 
 the contrary, he has selected one part for his sub- 
 ject, and made use of many episodes collected from 
 the others, such as the catalogue of the ships, and 
 the other episodes with which he diversifies the 
 poem. v The others again, make poems on one 
 man, one period of time, and one action with 
 many parts ; such as the person who has composed 
 the Cyprians, and the little Iliad. This is the rea- 
 son why only one or two tragedies can be made 
 out of each, from the Iliad and Odyssey ; but from 
 the Cyprians many ; and from the little Iliad more 
 than eight ; as the Adjudging of the arms, Philoc- 
 tetes, Nejpptolemus, Eurypylus, Lacsnae, the Re- 
 turn of the fleet, Sinon, and Troades. 
 
 29 These men fancy they preiervc the unity, if they relate 
 the adventures of one particular man. But they are quite mis- 
 taken ; for those actions may be as widely different as if they had 
 been performed by fifty different persons.
 
 ARISTOTLE'S POETICS. $1 
 
 XXXIX. An epic poem ought also to have the 
 same forms as a tragedy ; that is, it ought to be 
 simple, complex, moral, or pathetic ; its parts too, 
 except melody and scenery, ought to be the same, 
 for it should possess, peripatie, recognition, and 
 passion, and it ought to be noble in its sentiment 
 and diction j all which Homer first made use of, 
 and with sufficient correctness. For each of his 
 poems is composed in this manner ; the Iliad, as a 
 simple and pathetic, and the Odyssey, as a complex 
 (for recognition runs through the whole of it) and 
 moral. Moreover he excels all in the nobleness of 
 h'm sentiment and diction. 
 
 XL. But epic differs from tragedy, both in the 
 length of the composition, and in the measure. 
 The definition already given of its length, is suffi- 
 cient. For the beginning and the end ought to be 
 seen at one view. 30 And this will be the case, if 
 the compositions be shorter than those of the an- 
 cients, and just equal to the number of tragedies 
 recited at one hearing. Epic poetry has a great 
 peculiarity in the power of extending its length ; 
 because it is not possible that many parts going on 
 at once can be imitated in a tragedy, but only 
 that which has connection with the scene and the 
 performers. In an epic poem, on the other hand, 
 
 50 The itirry of an epic poem may include any period of time 
 the writer chooses, but the repetition or perusal of it ought to 
 take up just s much as was spent in listening to the prize tra- 
 gedies which were recited at one hearing 1 . How lonij this is 
 we cannot exactly say, because we are not acquainted with the 
 number which was usual on those occasions.
 
 6$ ARISTOTLE'S POETICS. 
 
 because it is a narrative, it is easy to represent 
 many parts as proceeding at one and the same 
 time, by means of which, provided they be agreea- 
 ble to the tragedy, the mass of the poem is in- 
 creased. This advantage therefore it possesses for 
 rendering it magnificent, and also that it can 
 change the listener from one thing to another, and 
 can introduce episodes altogether different. 31 But 
 the similarity which must exist among them, as it 
 soon satiates, causes tragedies to fail. 
 
 XLI. We have found by experience that the 
 heroic verse, is the best adapted for epic poetry ; 
 for if one were to make an imitation by narrative 
 in any oth,er measure, or in more measures than 
 one, it would appear unsuitable. For the heroic 
 is the most nervous and lofty of the measures, 
 (whence it most readily admits of foreign words 
 and metaphors ; for imitation by narrative is more 
 abundant in these, than the others), whereas the 
 iambic and tretrametre are adapted to motion ; 
 the one to that of dancing, and the other to that 
 of acting. But it would be more foolish still if 
 one were to mix the measures, as Chaeremon has 
 done. No one therefore has written a long poem 
 in any other measure than the heroic ; but the 
 very nature of the poem, as we have said, instructs 
 us in assigning the measure which is agreeable to 
 itself. 
 
 31 The episodes introduced in an epic poem may he niimr. 
 ous and quite different in thtir nature. In tragedy they must 
 resemble each other so closely, that too frequent repetition 
 of them would infallibly damn the piece. 
 

 
 ARISTOTLE'S POETICS. 63 
 
 XLIl. Homer, indeed, is deserving of praise in 
 m;my other respects, and particularly because he 
 alone of the poets is not ignorant of what he ought 
 to do. For the poet should himself say as little as 
 possible, as it is not by this means that he imitates. 
 The others, however, carry on the action in person 
 throughout, and therefore imitate few things, and 
 that rarely ; whereas he, having said a few words 
 by way of preface, immediately introduces a man 
 or woman, or something else possessed of manner, 
 3J and nothing without, but something which has ; 
 and makes it speak for him. 
 
 XLIII. M In tragedy, it is true, the poet ought 
 to produce the wonderful ; but that which is con- 
 trary to reason, from which the most wonderful 
 comes, is more suitable to an epic poem, because 
 in it we do not see the actor. The story of the 
 pursuit of Hector, for example, would appear ridi- 
 culous upon the stage, that they (the Greeks) should 
 stand still and not follow, and that he (dchilles) 
 should make signs to them ; but in the epic poem, 
 this is not observed. The wonderful is at all times 
 pleasing; a proof of which is, that all add a little 
 when they tell a story, for the purpose of giving 
 pleasure. 
 
 32 His Gods and Goddesses are all personifications of dif- 
 ferent passions. His horses speak, his arrows are impatient, 
 his darts thirst, in short every thing in his poem has manner. 
 
 33 Greater scope is given to an epic poem than to a tragedy, 
 because that which is too far heyond the bounds of reasou to be 
 represented, may still bear to b told.
 
 64 ARISTOTLE'S POETICS. 
 
 XLI V. Homer likewise has best instructed others 
 hi;\v they ought to tell a lie. 34 Hut this is a pa- 
 ralogism ; for men suppose, th;it since one thing i 9 
 because another was, or one thing happens be~- 
 eause another did happen, if the last be, the first 
 must necessarily have been, or have happened. But 
 is false reasoning. Wherefore, although the 
 nrs?t may be untrue, if another of the same kind 
 tnkts place, there is a necessity for our believing 
 that it did actually exist or happen ;. for because 
 AVe know the last to be true, our mind draws a 
 i'-.l^e conclusion with respect to the first, and ajfirtrti 
 that it also is true. 35 But the poet ought to make 
 
 r>4 T!I." v.holo of tl;is pas-T.^f. 'twinjj 1 to tlic- evident 
 tiort i; tin- <>. i^'ii.a!, is e>.<- 
 
 t'it meaning- as far as u strict adherence to literal trautluUua 
 fill alld-A', b.iit"'e shall here endeavour to do it more complete,- 
 1 v. Tl:e b< st way to tell a lie, is by paralogism, (hat is, by rfr.- 
 voniwg from consequence, 'i lius tlic coi^oquence of a fever ii 
 to be tliirsty, aittl we slioiild' rcasun by consrquence, or em- 
 p!<iy paralogism, if \e were to athnn, that heiuino a man v.at 
 t'i..sty, ho liiiil a fever. Whin l{iiu-r makes a horse speak, it 
 i- a lie by parulogism. For althoug-li be represents Minerva 
 a* givii'fc" it tliat jiowor, and though we allow the Gods to be 
 able to do any tiling;, it does not follow because she could, tiiat 
 she did exert t;iat power. This appears to express the mcan- 
 iugf of the latter part of the passage, w!,ich Rcconlinjj- to tlie 
 reading in Tjrrwhitt'i edition cannot be literally translated. 
 In some others nrnusraij is written where he has used <r(>off- 
 Sutai, and an / is subscribed uudcr atayxtt, which certaiolj 
 render it more intelligible. 
 
 35 This will be evident if we brinjj forward examples, with 
 vrhich Homer himself supplies us. V. lirn that poet represents 
 a horse as speaking, we know that he affirms what is physi- 
 cally impossible, but we believe it, becrmse he inlrodnces Mi- 
 nerva as endowing it with that power. /X^-ain, when he tells us 
 that Hector ran artay from Achilles. M-I- have much more dif- 
 ficulty in believing' it, because althott^h the thing is not, likes 
 the other, in direct opposition to an established luw of nature,
 
 ARISTOTLE'S POETICS. 65 
 
 choice of incidents which are impossible, and yet 
 resemble truth, rather than of such as are possible, 
 and not likely to be believed : 3fi his stories, like- 
 wise, ought not to be composed of unreasonable 
 parts, but his chief care should be to represent no- 
 thing as without a reason ; and if this cannot be, it 
 must be out of the story ; as the ignorance of QS- 
 dipus respecting the manner in which Laius died : 
 but by no means in the drama, 37 as is the case in 
 the Electra, where persons tell of the Pythian games, 
 or iln the Mysians, where a man comes from Sigia 
 to Mysia without speaking. To say that the story 
 would otherwise have been destroyed, is ridicu- 
 lous, because the poet ought not at first to have 
 composed such ; but if he have composed it, and it 
 appear more reasonable than not, something foolish 
 may be admitted : thus it is evident, that the un- 
 reasonable parts in the Odyssey, / mean those 
 which refer to the exposure of Ulysses, would not 
 have been tolerated, had a bad poet composed 
 them ; but now, the poet by pleasing us with his 
 
 yet it is so very different from what we would expect, that we 
 give credit to it with extreme reluctance. 
 
 36 This advice he has already given in his treatise upon tra- 
 gedy. Were the whole story of CEdipus, for example, to bo 
 included in one poem, that part which relates to Ii/s ig-norance 
 of the manner of Laius's death would he quite without reason, 
 because it is impossible to imagine why he should have been 
 married to Jocasta for so long a period, before he began to 
 make enquiry respecting the deatli of her former husband. 
 
 37 In the first of these examples the fault lirs in making 
 Orestes be reported to have been killed at games, which were 
 not instituted till five years aftor the time of his death, and in' 
 the second, in the absurdity of the notion, that a man would 
 travel several days on end, without speaking a word.
 
 66 A RISWfLE'S POETICS. 
 
 other excellencies, keeps the foolish pert out of 
 sight. 
 
 XLV. He ought also to labour his diction in 
 the inactive parts, such as exhibit rfeither man- 
 ner nor sentiment ; because very brilliant expres- 
 sions rather obscure manner and sentiment. 
 
 XLVI. Of objections and their answers of how 
 many and what kinds they- are, a sufficiently clear 
 view will be taken by those who thus examine the 
 subject. Since a poet is an imitator, as well as a. 
 painter or any other taker of likenesses, it is ne- 
 cessary that he should imitate, always some one of 
 ihese three things : he will represent things either 
 .uch as they are or were, such as people call them, 
 or they appear, or such as they ought to be. And 
 these are related, in common expressions, in fo- 
 reign terms, or in metaphor. ^ For there are ma- 
 ny passions of diction ; and these we allow poets 
 to make use of. 39 Besides this, the excellence of 
 poetry and politics is not the same, nor of poetry 
 and any other art. The error attendant upon poe- 
 try is twofold ; one, which arises from itself, the 
 other, which proceeds from accident. *> For if it 
 
 38 There is a kind of expression suitable to every passion. 
 The poet is therefore at liberty to employ whatever may be beat 
 adapted to represent that which he wishes to. imitate. 
 
 39 We must not pass sentence upon a poem according to.its 
 C/>od or bad political tendency, neither miist we find fault withr 
 the writer as a poet, thoug-h he may shew himself but badiy 
 skilled in anatomy or any other art. 
 
 40 Aristotle here refer* to the abjlUrea-of <he poet. If he-
 
 ARISTOTLE'S POETICS. 6T 
 
 choose to imitate that which is beyond its power, 
 the fault is in itself ; but if the choice be impro- 
 perly made, it arises from accident, as to represent 
 a horse moving forward both his right legs ; it may 
 also err against each of the arts, as against medi- 
 cine or any other, if it invent impossibilities ; but 
 these, whatever they may be, proceed not from it- 
 self. It is therefore necessary to refute the charges 
 contained in criticisms, by a consideration of these. 
 41 First then, the poet errs, if he invent things 
 which according to the rules of the art are impossi- 
 ble : but if by this means he gain his end, he does 
 right. But the end has been stated, namely, if he 
 can by this means, make that or any other part 
 more astonishing. The pursuit of Hector is art 
 example. If, however, he can attain his end, ei- 
 ther in a greater or less degree, and at the same time 
 adhere to rule, he improperly errs; because through- 
 out, he ought never to err, if he can help it. Be- 
 
 makc choice of a subject far above his capacity, he cnnot pos- 
 sibly succeed in his imitation, and therefore errs against the 
 rules of art. But if he choose one which is within his capacity, 
 and handle it badly, the fault proceeds, not from a transgresswrtr 
 of tht rules of poetry, hut from his own ignorance. 1 hus^^to 
 sing the praises of a horse seerns a subject within the stretch 
 of any man's abilities, but were the poet to relate as a natural 
 beauty, that the horse moved both the legs of on* side together, 
 he would err from ignorance that tiiis is. nut natural to a horse, 
 
 41 The pursuit of Hector he gives as an example of this. Ifc 
 is an established rule in poetry, that no incident should be re- , 
 lated, which is possible, and at the same time not likely^to be 
 believed. Of this nutui-e is the flight of Hector. But then the 
 error against rule is made np for, by. the high idea which-the- 
 reader in consequence forms of the might of Achilles,, to raiae- 
 which as much as possible, wan certainly: the end which Homer 
 had in view.
 
 68. ARISTOTLE'S POETICS. 
 
 sides, of which kind is the error, of those against 
 rule, or from accident ? because the fault is less 
 if a person did nbt know that female deer have no 
 horns, than if he did know it, and improperly de- 
 scribed them. Again, if the charge r-e, that real 
 occurrences are not represented, but rather such as 
 ought to be ; let the poet follow the example of So- 
 phocles, who said, that he represented men as 
 they should be, Euripides as they were. In this 
 manner may the charge be refuted. *"* But if he 
 imitate neither way, let him allege that men say so, 
 as in the stories of the Gods ; for perhaps it is nei- 
 ther better thus to relate them, nor are they true, 
 but as Xenophon has said, mere matters of chance ; 
 nevertheless men relate them. It may happen 
 likewise, that the poet represents a thing, not better, 
 but as it is, 43 as in the account of the arms : " Their 
 spears stood upright by the cross iron." For thus 
 they had the same custom, which the lllyrians now 
 have. ** With respect to the question whether a 
 
 42 This seems to be the meaning- of passage, which is 
 eidently corrupt, and which will uot bear a literal transla- 
 tion. 
 
 43 Homer represents Diomede as sleeping on an ox's hide, 
 and his men round him with their spears stuck in the grouud. 
 Had his object been to draw a picture of men who were always 
 ready to fight, he would have done it more effectually had he 
 represented each man as sleeping with his spear by his side. 
 Bat this is not the case, for he only imitates what was a real 
 practice. 
 
 44 We must not censure any single passage in a poem, with- 
 out taking in the context, and perceiving for what purpose the 
 incident may be related ; and whether, had it been different, a 
 greater evil might not have arisen, than what springs from the 
 apparent faultiness of that one passage.
 
 AftlSTOTI.E'S POETICS. 6$ 
 
 thing be said or done to any one, becomingly or 
 unbecomingly, it ought to be considered, by re- 
 garding, not only the thing done or said, whether 
 it be good or bad ; but also the person who does OP 
 says it, to whom, at what time, in what manners 
 and for what end he thus acts ; whether that a 
 greater good may arise, or that a greater evil may 
 be avoided. Other objections he may refute, by 
 looking to the expression j as by shewing that a 
 word is used in a foreign sense ; thus Oug]$ psv 
 irpvorov has a foreign sense, for perhaps the poet 
 means guards, and not mules. Also the descrip- 
 tion of Dolon, QS &j TOI e8oj p.ev ki\v XO.XQC, where 
 he does not mean that his body was badly formed, 
 but that his face was hideous ; because the Cretans-, 
 call a handsome man, pretty faced. And the ex- 
 pression Ziaporepov 8g xsgwps, does not U\ean ujv^ 
 mixed wine, as for drunkards, but that it shouM 
 be brought in haste. " 'ihe other Gods and men- 
 slept all night" he says metaphorically, as also 
 45 "But when he looked to the Trojan plain," and, 
 " The tumult of pipes and horns." In thejirst of 
 these examples, " all" is used metaphorically for " A 
 great number," for all is a great number. # Sa, 
 also OJrj 8* a/i/xogof is metaphorical ; for what is 
 alone, is best known. 47 Some objections are re- 
 
 45 This is said of Agamemnon sitting- hi his tent, at nig-lit ; 
 and means "when he thought upon llielrojau plain." It 
 therefore a metujihor. 
 
 46 Homer calls the Bear, " the only constellation which Aoe* 
 not bathe itself in the ocean," metaphorically, because it *m 
 the best known of those which <lu not set. 
 
 47 Almost all the examples which follow are such as in their
 
 tO ARISTOTLE'S POETICS. 
 
 futed by alteration of accent, others by the point- 
 ing, others by ambiguity, as na^ca^xev $f -xhsxy 
 vu, where the nteoov has a double meaning, and 
 others by the habit of expression, as, men call wine 
 mixed with water, wine, and workers in iron, bra- 
 ziers ; for the same reason Ganymede is said to 
 pour out wine to the Gods, although they do not 
 drink wine : but this may also be used as a meta- 
 phor. When a word appears to signify any thing 
 contradictory, it is necessary to examine in what 
 sense it is significant in the expression before us, 
 such an one as, 48 " But there the brazen spear 
 stuck," which means that there it was stopped. 
 49 And in whatever senses it is received, it will 
 bear this also ; particularly, as Glauco says, if one 
 take it up in quite an opposite sense. Besides 
 some men form unreasonable prejudices, and hav- 
 ingjirst past sentence of condemnation, argue the 
 point, and, as if they were disputing, find fault 
 
 detached state will not bear translation. The meaning of the 
 author however is plain enough. 
 
 48 Which does not mean that it remained sticking-, but only 
 that it got no farther. 
 
 49 This passage is evidently corrupt, and certainly nearly 
 unintelligible. It seems to imply, that if a word in its usual 
 acceptation, render the circumstance related, vile, we must ex- 
 amine it closely, and see whether it will not bear one, as much 
 the reverse as possible. There is an example in Homer, in 
 that passage where he relates the exchange which Glaucui 
 made of a suit of gold armour, for the steel armour of Diomede. 
 The poet then adds E>3avrirA.ai/*w ngit^m ip^im; iiJ.iToZii/f . The 
 usual meaning of tgiXirt is ''took a way," but it also signitiei 
 " elevated." Now as the poet certainly intends to praise 
 Glaucus for his magnanimity, and not to blame him for mak- 
 ing a bad bargain, the latter is the sense in which it must here 
 be used.
 
 ARISTOTLE'S POETICS. 71 
 
 with whatever seems good to them, if it chance to 
 oppose their opinion. This was the case in the 
 criticisms about Icarius, for the critics supposed him 
 to be a Lacedaemonian. It was foolish then, say 
 they, that Telemachus when he came to Lacedae- 
 mon, should not have fallen in with him. But 
 the case may be as the Cephallanians say ; that 
 Ulysses married among them, and that Icadius, not 
 Icarius, was his father-in-law. The error then it is 
 likely, is but a quaere after all. But the general 
 objection of impossible, we must refer to the poe- 
 try, to what is better, or to common opinion. 
 With reference to poetry, we must say that the cre- 
 dible impossible, is preferable to the possible and 
 incredible j they are the same, as the paintings 
 which Zeuxis drew : *> with reference to the bet- 
 ter, that the example ought always to be excel- 
 lent : and with reference to what men call unrea- 
 sonable.*** And thus that it is not unreasonable : 
 for it is probable that many things may have hap- 
 pened contrary to probability. But things said ap- 
 parently in contradiction to one another, we ought 
 to examine, 51 like elenchi in logic, whether it be 
 
 60 We have already explained what Aristotle means, by ere. 
 dible impossible and possible incredible. We shall at present 
 therefore only notice this second reference. A poet, says Ari- 
 stotle, is not to tie himself down to any particular person or ob- 
 ject, which he is to make his model in all things. Nature at 
 large supplies him with materials, and there is no impropriety 
 in his embodying- in one object, all those perfections which she 
 has scattered through many. The objection therefore, that 
 there is nothing in real life so excellent as the poet represents 
 it, is futile. 
 
 .SI That is, we must examine whether the person who speaks 
 be the same that spoke before, whether the person to whom he
 
 T 2 ARISTOTLE'S POETICS. 
 
 really the same, tend to the same end, or be said 
 in the same manner; as well as whether the per- 
 son speaks as from himself, or a prudent man have 
 advised him. But the charge of unreasonableness 
 and impropriety is correct, if the poet make use of 
 something unreasonable, when there is no neces- 
 sity for it, as Euripides does in Egeeus ; or some- 
 thing improper, like the conduct of Menelaus in 
 the Orestes. These criticisms they bring under 
 five heads ; for the things said are either impossi- 
 ble, or unreasonable, or bad, or contradictory, or 
 contrary to the correctness required by the art : 
 51 the answers also may be discovered from the 
 numbers we have stated ; and they are twelve. 
 
 XLVII. One may easily doubt, whether the epic 
 or tragic imitation be preferable. For if that which 
 is M least encumbered, be better ; and this is the 
 kind which suits the better sort of spectators j it 
 is evident, that that which imitates every thing is 
 
 a-ldresses himself be the same, and whether the time, the place, 
 the ni;iner, and the object be not one or all of them different. 
 
 i>3 There are four relating to the subject. What it is, what 
 it ought to be, what it is said to be, and what it may be. Fiv 
 to the way in which the port expresses himself, namely, whe- 
 ther by metaphor, or foreign words, whether the accent, and 
 the pointing' be correct, and in what sense lie employs a word 
 of doubtful meaning-. And three which refer to the manner, 
 namely, whether the fault be proper or foreign, whether the 
 thing- be the same or different, and whether it preserve the same 
 character. 
 
 A3 Gtfri**, disagreeable, because loaded with scenery, de- 
 corations, foreig-n words, &c. Tragedy, he S*TS, is of this nature, 
 tad imitates tbcmos.t minute actions, consequent.' y is to far infe- 
 rior tj epic poetry.
 
 ARISTOTLE'S POETICS. 75 
 
 encumbered. On this account the player makes 
 use of many motions, because the audience cannot 
 see any thing except what he brings forward j 
 54 just as bad flute-players turn round, if it be re- 
 quired to imitate a quoit, and drag the end of the 
 instrument, when they play Scylla. Of this nature 
 is tragedy ; and thus did the old performers think 
 of those who succeeded them ; for Myniscus called 
 Callipides an ape, because he had too much motion i 
 and the same opinion was held of Pindarus : a but 
 as these stand with reference to one another, so 
 does the whole tragic art, when compared to epic 
 poetry. This, men say, is intended for the better 
 sort of spectators, and therefore has no need of 
 gestures j whereas tragedy is intended for the worse. 
 But it is evident, that that which is encumbered, 
 is the worst. & In the first place however, we must 
 observe that this is a fault, not in the poetry, but in 
 the representation ; since it is possible to exceed 
 in gestures, boih when reciting, 57 as Sosistratus 
 
 54 A musician was esteemed excellent in proportion as he 
 could express imitation by the sound of his instrument. When 
 a bad player, therefore, attempted to imitate the motion of a 
 quoit in the air, he turned himself round, and if he wished to 
 represent Scylla swallowing up a ship, he dragged, and some-- 
 times put into his mouth the end f his instrument. These 
 expedients he was obliged to adopt because the sounds which 
 he produced by no means expressed what he wished. 
 
 55 As an actor who does not throw himself into unnecei- 
 ary attitudes is to be preferred to one who does, so is epic to 
 tragic poetry. 
 
 56 Here follow the argument* in favor of tragedy and against 
 epic imitations. 
 
 57 The reader must remember that epic poonis were in those 
 days recited and sung, and that epic poets Lad a theatre and 
 dresses of their own.
 
 74 ARISTOTLE'S POETICS. 
 
 did, and when singing, as did Mnasitheus the 
 Opuntian. In the next place, that all motion 13 
 not to be found fault with, any more than danc- 
 ing, hut only that of bad people, for which reason 
 blame is attached to Callippides, and now to others, 
 because they imitate prostitutes. Besides this, 
 tragedy, even without motion, produces its own ef- 
 fect, as well as epic poetry ; for its quality is evi- 
 dent from a bare perusal : wherefore, if in olher 
 respects it be superior, this fault does not necessa- 
 rily belong to it. And besides, that it has every 
 advantage which epic possesses ; for it may even 
 employ the same measure ; it has, moreover, mu- 
 sic and scenery, a part of no small consideration, by 
 which pleasure is most powerfully excited. ** It 
 has evidence also, both in the reading and in the 
 performance. S9 The end of its imitation, too, is 
 included within a shorter period ; and that which 
 is more condensed, is pleasanter than what is ex- 
 tended over a greater space of time : I mean, for 
 instance, if one were to throw the CEdipus of So- 
 phocles into as many lines as the Iliad. Besides, 
 the imitation of epic poems has, in some respects, 
 less unity in it. The proof is, that out of any such 
 
 58 It has the evidence of action, for whether we read a 
 play, or see it performed, we have always the idea of actors 
 before us, and we all know how much more apt we are to be- 
 lieve what we see than what we hear. 
 
 69 Tragedy includes the space of only twelve !iours at most, 
 because its object is to purify the passions, which are things of 
 the moment. Epic poetry, on the other hand, is in this respect 
 unlimited, because its object is to correct our manners and ha- 
 bits, which are long in forming'.
 
 ARISTOTLE'S POETICS. 75 
 
 imitation, more than one tragedy can be made. 
 Thus if men relate but one story, ^ if it be too 
 short it must appear mutilated ; if spun out to 
 the extent proper for the measure, it must appear 
 weak : should they tell more, I mean, should it be 
 composed of more than one action, it loses its 
 unity ; in this way the Iliad and Odyssey compre- 
 hend many such parts, each of which has sepa- 
 rately a certain extent : although these poems are 
 composed in the best manner possible, and are, as 
 much as can be, the imitation of but one action.. 
 If then it excel in all these particulars, and above 
 all, in the accomplishment of the object which the 
 art has in view ; for they ought not to produce any 
 kind of pleasure, but only what has been assigned 
 to each; it is evident, that as it attains its end bet- 
 ter than epic poetry, it will be altogether superior. 
 So much hath been said upon tragedy and epic 
 poetry in general, upon their species and parts, 
 how many they are, and in what respect they dif- 
 fer, upon certain causes for their being good or 
 bad, and upon the faults which may be found with 
 them, and the methods of refuting those objections. 
 
 60 If it present short things. 
 
 THE END.
 
 
 NOTE. 
 
 PACE 51. To conjunction Aristotle gives two definitions 
 apparently so contradictory that they may be apt to confuse 
 the reader. The first is, that it is a nonsignificant sound, nei- 
 ther preventing- nor producing one significant sound, which is 
 composed of more sounds than one : nnd the second, that it ia 
 a nonsignificant sound, whose office it is to form one signifi- 
 cant sound out of many. The only difficulty, however, is in 
 the meaning to be attached to the term sound or iron/. In the 
 first of these definitions it evidently refers to what is generally 
 understood by a word, namely, man or horse, good or bad. A 
 conjunction coming between these, neither forms them into oue 
 word, nor would hinder them from becoming one, could their 
 nature allow it. Let us take for example the two words man and 
 horse. Here the onjunction and coming between them does 
 not and cannot convey to our minds the idea of one object, be- 
 cause man and horse are by nature too much separated ever to 
 be artificially considered as one. The reverse is the case in the 
 two words, righteoiu and pious. These two are naturally so si- 
 milar, that when they are coupled with a conjunction, we rea- 
 dily and immediately conceive them to be but one. The latter 
 definition relates entirely to a sentence or story, which is called 
 one ward, from the idea of unity which it produces in the mind ; 
 and it is only by the help of conjunctions, that a story can be so 
 connected as to produce that idea.
 
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