twenty-four hours.' In taking this ground, Milton, if he is more exacting than Aristotle, speaks much in his tone, and quite escapes the absurdity of the Italian position. So much we learn of our poet's dramatic theory from his preface to Samson Agonistes, and his list of literary projects. A few more particulars may be gathered elsewhere. On the kind of subjects he thought appropriate to the serious drama, we must consult not only the jottings, but his words in The Reason of Church-Government, where he speaks of poetry as describing 'whatsoever hath passion or admiration in all the changes of that which is called fortune from without, or the wily subtleties and refluxes of man's thoughts from within." As we have observed, the words apply as much to one form of poetical composition as to another. We gather therefore that Milton perceives the dramatic quality in an inner or mental action, such as is exemplified in Prometheus Bound or in much of Hamlet, no less than in physical action, such as is seen in Ajax or Macbeth. When he characterizes the Apocalypse as 'the majestic image of a high and stately tragedy,' he reveals a conception not to be identified with either of the tragic types just mentioned. 1 Works 3.147. Cf. the outline, among the Scriptural subjects (Masson, Life of Milton 2.109-110), under Moabitides or Phineas: "The epitasis whereof may lie in the contention first between the father of Zimri and Eleazer whether he [ought] to have slain his son without law-next, the ambassadors of the Moabites expostulating about Cosbi, a stranger and a noblewoman, slain by Phineas. It may be argued about reformation and punishment illegal, and, as it were, by tumult. After all arguments driven home, then the word of the Lord may be bought, acquitting and approving Phineas.' The dramatic action suggested seems almost entirely reduced to 'forensic debate.' When we turn from the themes of serious drama to the character of the agent, we find that Aristotle's requirement of a lofty position for the hero of tragedy vexed his commentators quite as much as the meaning of purgation or the alleged laws of unity. Some critics, fancying themselves in accord with the philosopher, believed that the hero must be royally born, and that the tragic poet was bound 'to tell sad stories of the death of kings.' Others, nearer to what seems right, connected the rank of the hero with the dramatic necessity of a great and serious action, such as ordinarily would not occur in the life of a mean or lowly man. The worldly position of the hero, and his character as well, the commentators tried to analyze until they could find a standard tragic type. Aristotle's ideal is a man who, though not 'pre-eminently virtuous and just,' nevertheless is brought low, 'not by vice and depravity, but by some error of judgment." This notion was much altered in the strain and stress of Italian criticism. From his reading Milton could hardly fail to catch the importance of the problem; but where opinion was so fitful, and discussion so vexed, he may have derived little more. He evidently was convinced that tragedy requires grave and lofty personages; so much may be argued from his choice of Samson for the hero of his own dramatic poem, and from the types considered in his list of dramatic subjects. We learn something more from two passages in Samson Agonistes that describe the ideal tragic hero, and the nature of the 1Aristotle, Poetics 13.1453 8-10 (ed. by Bywater, p. 35). 'Among his literary projects, however, we find the suggestion for a drama on the subject of Hay the Ploughman, who distinguished himself in a battle between the Scots and the Danes. Cf. Masson, Life of Milton 2.115. tragic catastrophe. The first is spoken by the chorus as they draw near to the blind captive: O mirror of our fickle state, Since man on earth, unparalleled, The rarer thy example stands, By how much from the top of wondrous glory, Strongest of mortal men, To lowest pitch of abject fortune thou art fallen! For him I reckon not in high estate Whom long descent of birth, Or the sphere of fortune raises; But thee, whose strength, while virtue was her mate, Universally crowned with highest praises.1 The second passage, also choral, further explains the nobility of the hero as arising, not from inheritance or rank, but from his fitness for some pre-eminent service: God of our fathers! what is Man, That Thou towards him with hand so various, Or might I say contrarious, Temper❜st Thy providence through his short course: The angelic orders, and inferior creatures mute, Irrational and brute? Nor do I name of men the common rout, That, wandering loose about, Grow up and perish, as the summer fly, Heads without name, no more remembered; But such as Thou hast solemnly elected, With gifts and graces eminently adorned, To some great work, Thy glory, And people's safety, which in part they effect. Yet toward these, thus dignified, Thou oft, Amidst their height of noon, Changest Thy countenance and Thy hand, with no regard From Thee on them, or them to Thee of service.' The passage continues to comment on the fall of the great man, which often seems disproportionate to his error. The sense of disproportion is aroused by Samson Agonistes, but less than by tragedies representing a lofty character at odds with petty and insidious or dire and ruthless forces that are beyond his power to control. The nature of the tragic flaw which fits Samson for a tragic catastrophe, though not explained in these choral reflections, is elsewhere indicated. In his opening speech Samson condemns himself: Yet stay; let me not rashly call in doubt Had been fulfilled but through mine own default? Who this high gift of strength committed to me, But what is strength without a double share By weakest subtleties; not made to rule, But to subserve where wisdom bears command.1 Later the hero again confesses his weakness, and admits that his shortcoming was conscious: Nothing of all these evils hath befallen me 1S. A. 43-57. A Canaanite, my faithless enemy. This well I knew, nor was at all surprised, Finally, in two words, Samson characterizes his 'crime' as 'shameful garrulity." Taken together with the choral passages, the allusions to his disastrous shortcoming show that Samson fulfills the theoretical requisites of the tragic hero.3 As we add his weakness to the list of notable tragic flawsto the impetuosity of Oedipus, the jealousy of Othello, and the ambition of Macbeth-we establish another bond between Milton and the Poetics of Aristotle. Milton's dramatic theory cannot be wholly recovered from his writings, but we may now summarize it so far as it has emerged. To begin with, he is strongly attached to the drama as a literary type. Next, we see that he believes in its humanizing efficacy in the State. Lastly, we observe his final preference of the classical form, and his assimilation of Aristotelian and Horatian principles. But we cannot understand his theory unless we reflect that, while ultimately classical, it received a bias from the Italians. And this bias we must be prepared to find also in his theory of the epic. 'S. A. 374-387. 'S. A. 491. And see 193 ff., 233 ff., 426 ff. The tragic flaw upon which the catastrophe in Milton's drama depends is not so much an instance of the Aristotelian àμapría ('a mistake or error in judgment'-see Bywater's edition of the Poetics, p. 215) as of an inherent frailty or tendency toward error. Butcher believes that that usage wherein duapria denotes a defect of character, though rare, is still Aristotelian. See his Aristotle's Theory of Poetry and Fine Art, p. 319. |