Cinthio, Giraldi. "On the Composition of Comedies and Tragedies."

LITERARY CRITICISM Plato to

Dryden

by Allan H. Gilbert Professor Emeritus of English Uterature

Duke University

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19h7 W" Wayne State University Press

ill' Detroit

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DISCORSI AND OTHER WRITINGS

AMONG THEORETICAL STUDENTS of literature, as distinguished from untheoretical readers, the problem of literature in Italy, as in less measure throughout Europe, was that of the new methods versus the old ones. This was summed up in the debate on the Orlando FUTioso.

To what extent is the new form to be accepted; is it to be entirely rejected for the classical cpics and their modern imitations? For the drama thcre was also the same problem, less acute in Italy in proportion as full-length Italian tragedy and comedy resembled Seneca and Plautus more closely than the Orlando FUTioso its classical analogues.

As a scholar, the theorist tended to look with veneration to the past and to consider the present as less authoritative. A voice in favor of the poets of modern times was needed. The opportunity lay open to Giraldi as one practiced in various forms of composition both prose and poetry, not primarily a scholar, yet not unversed in classical theory and practice. His great assertion is that the classical method of construction is not the only one; there are principles of literature other than those followed by the ancients and formulated by Aristotl':': and Horace. Nor need the recent author feel apologetic, for Italians writing on their plan have equalled, yes, surpassed, the grei1~est works handed down from antiquity. No effort need be wasted in apologizing for modern litera足 ture by showing that in some way not immediately apparent it does carry out the principles of Aristotle; it stands on principles of its own.

The translations are those of the editor.

BIBLIOGRAPHY Crocetti, Camillo Guerrieri, G. B. Giraldi ed il pensiero critico del secolo XVI. Genoa, 1932.

Giraldi Cinthio, Giovambattista, Discorsi intorno al compone de i romanzi, delle commedie, e delle tragedie, etc. Venice, 1554.

- - , Le tragedie. Venice, 1583.

- - , Scritti estetici. Milan, 186.4-.

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composition of tragic matter. I confess then without any conceal­ persons; hence it would not be true to life, since great men are in ment that the Dido in its matter is diverse from the Oedipus Tjran­ the eyes of the world, that any strange deed could be done by nus. But I do not wish to concede that in the parts which are them which would not, as soon as it is performed, come to the ears proper to tragedy and in workmanship it is not of the same sort of everyone. Therefore, since tragedy deals with illustrious acts, as the Oedipus so far as was permitted by the subject taken from by treating of persons who perform them, it does not appear that Vergil that I had before me. And if perhaps I have sometimes such acts can be brought on the stage without their having been departed from the rules given by Aristotle in order to conform to known before. But private actions can properly be feigned because the customs of our times, I have done so after the example of the for the most part they do not get beyond private houses and in a ancients, for it may be seen that Euripides did not begin his stories short time are forgotten. Hence the poet has a large field for as did Sophocles and that, as I just said, the Romans arranged feigning what he wishes in order to bring new comic plots on the their plots in yet another way than did the Greeks, and besides stage. But though this reasoning carries with it much appearance this Aristotle himself has conceded it to me. For he does not for­ of truth, I hold nonetheless that the tragic plot can be feigned by bid at all, when it is demanded either by place or time or the qual­ the poet as well as the comic. Aristotle, judicious here as every­ ity of the matters dealt with, to depart somewhat from those arts where, conceded it in more than one passage of his Poetics, and which he reduced to the precepts that he gave us.

Cornutus2 after him among the Latins, though saying that comedy feigns its fables and tragedy usually takes them from history, shows that it is not always necessary to take them from history. It ap­

ON THE COMPOSITION OF COMEDIES

pears to me also that reason is able to present the same truth to us

AND TRAGEDIES (selections)

with sufficient probability, because the power of moving tragic

feelings depends only on imitation which does not depart from

1543 probability, and facts do not move the feelings without words

[The moral end of tragedy and comedy. 2061] fitly and poetically joined together. Therefore it seems to me that

Tragedy and comedy have their end in common because both it is in the power of the poet to move at his wish the tragic feelings

endeavor to introduce good morals, but in this agreement there is by means of a tragedy of which he feigns the plot, if that plot is in

the difference that comedy is without terror and without commis­ conformity with natural habits and not remote from what can

eration (because in it there are no deaths or other terrible chances, happen and often does happen. And perhaps the feelings are

but instead it seeks to bring about its end with pleasure and with moved to the adoption of good morals the more in proportion as

some pleasing saying), and tragedy, whether it has a happy con­ by coming anew into the minds of the listeners the feigned plot

clusion or an unhappy one, by means of the pitiable and the ter­ gains for itself the greater attention. For since the spectator knows

rible, purges the minds of the hearers from their vices and influ­ that he cannot learn of the action which is presented on the stage

ences them to adopt good morals.... except through that presentation, as soon as he gets some knowl­

edge of the plot and it seems to him that it probably is ingeni.ously

[Where can tragic and comic plots be obtained? 208] composed, he arouses his attention and seeks not to miss a word of

Though the plot is common to both comedy and tragedy, still it. . . . That a feigned plot can have this power, experience has

some think that the plot of a tragedy should be taken from history shown in the case of my Orbecche (such as it is) every time that it

and that of a comedy should be feigned by the poet. It appears has been played, for not merely new spectators (permit me, M.

that an adequate reason can be given for such a difference: Com­ Giulio, -::0 speak of the truth, not to praise myself but to confirm

edy deals with actions that occur in the ordinary life of citizens with a very recent example what I am now saying) but those who

while tragedy deals with famous and regal deeds, for comedy pre­ had seen it every time it was acted were unable to restrain their

sents private men and tragedy is concerned with kings and great sighs and sobs. . . .

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numbers designating the sections are those of pages in the edition of 1554.

2A literary man and critic of the time of Nero.

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And here it should be understood that though double tragedies are little praised by Aristotle (though some think otherwise) dou­ ble structure is nonetheless to be much praised in comedy and has made the plays of Terence succeed wonderfully. I call that plot double which has in its action diverse kinds of persons of the same station in life, as t~o lovers of different character, two old men of varied nature, two servants of opposite morals, and other such things, as they may be seen in the Andria and in the other plots of the same poet, where it is clear that these like persons of unlike habits make the knot and the solution of the plot very pleasing.

And I believe that if this should be well imitated in tragedy by a good poet, and the knot so arranged that its solution will not bring confusion, double structure in tragedy will not be less pleasing (always remembering the reverence due to Aristotle) than it is in comedy. If there have been those who have favored this method and held an opinion unlike that of Aristotle, they are not, I think, to be blamed, especially if the tragedy has a happy end, for this kind of end is much like that of comedy, and therefore such a tragedy can be like comedy in its imitation of the action....3 [Characters.

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Persons then who are in part good and in part evil (being half way between the good and the bad) awaken wonderful compas­ sion if something horrible comes upon them. The cause of this is that it appears to the spectator that the person who suffers the evil is in every way deserving of some penalty, but not of one so heavy. And this justice, combined with the weight of the penalty, induces that horror and that compassion which is necessary to tragedy. Among all the stories that have ever been brought on the stage, none was ever more fitting or more likely to produce compassion than that of Oedipus as presented by Sophocles, for Oedipus was searching to punish one who had killed his father, and feared he would be united in marriage with his mother, and being as a result very eager in his desire to inflict just punish­ ment on the criminal and to find a mode for avoiding the other error, early in the unraveling of the plot he recognized that he was the one who had imprudently run into such grave errors.

Hence, whatever evil came to him he endured in such a way as to aFor a related discussion see Guarini, Traguomeqy, sect. 21b, and passim, below.

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excite the greatest compassion, for he appeared as one who, hold­

ing such sins abominable, found himself immersed in them while

he was preparing punishment for the malefactor. From this can be

seen that ignorance of the sin committed, when the evil doer in­ curs punishment for the evil he has done, causes the greatest horror and the greatest compassion. And this wonderfully purges the mind from such errors, because the spectator drawing a silent con­ clusion says to himself: If the tragic character has suffered as severely as he does because of an involuntary error, what would happen to me if I should voluntarily commit such a sin? The illus­ trious actions of tragedy are so called not because they are praise­ worthy or virtuous but because they are enacted by men of the highest rank. They must be chosen and arranged, if the work is well done, in accord with the demands of the times in which the poet writes, as regards the thoughts expressed, the characteristics of the person presented, his fitness in general, and other circum­ stances. Those who have their minds and natures turned toward low things will not be capable of making this choice because they will be inclined toward things that are base and of little honor, as Aristophanes was among the Greeks....

[Happy and unhappy conclusion.

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Of the two sorts of tragedy there is one that ends in sorrow. The other has a happy end, but in bringing the action towards its con­ clusion does not therefore desert the terrible and the compassion­ able, for without these there cannot be a good tragedy. This type of tragedy, to which Aristotle gives the name of mixed, is shown to us by Plautus in the prologue of the Amphitryo when he says that in this play less noble persons are mingled with the great and royal.

This he took from the Poetics of Aristotle where there: is a passage on this sort of tragedy. It is in its nature more pleasing to the spec­ tators because it.ends in happiness. In this kind of tragedy the recognition or, as we prefer to call it, the identification of persons is especially in place; through this identification those for whom we feel horror and compassion are taken from perils and from death. Among all the identifications of which Aristotle teaches us (for it does not appear to me pertinent to speak of all of them) that one is praiseworthy more than the others by means of which there is a change of fortune from miserable to happy, as in its place we shall explain. But this noble kind of recognition is not so closely connected with the tragedy of a happy ending that it is not also

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very suitable to that of an unhappy ending, in which it produces an opposite effect to that just mentioned; that is, it makes the happy become miserable and turns friends to enemies.

spectator in suspense ought to be so managed by the poet that it is not always hidden in clouds, but the action goes on unrolling the plot in such a way that the spectator sees himself conducted to the end but is uncertain how the play is coming out. And in this sort of play often for the greater satisfaction and better instruction of those who listen, they who were the cause of disturbing events, by which the persons of ordinary goodness in the drama have been afflicted, are made to die or suffer great ills. Euripides does this in the Children of Hercules and Sophocles in the Electra, the first having Eurystheus killed and the second Aegisthus. I also, fol­ lowing their example, in the Altile had Astano die and Gripo in the Selene, at the very time when either one through his wickedness thought he would be more happy than anyone else. For it gives extraordinary pleasure to the spectator when he sees the astute trapped and deceived at the end of the drama, and the unjust and the wicked finally overthrown.

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[Concession to the audience.

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Among the Latins, Seneca never undertook tragedies with a happy ending, but devoted himselfto the sad conclusion with such excellence that in nearly all his tragedies (as it seems to me) he surpasses in prudence, gravity, decorum, majesty, and skill in the use of sentences all the Greeks who ever wrote, though in language he might be chaster and more painstaking than he is. 4 Yet in spite of that I have composed some with happy conclusions, the Altile, the Selene, the Antivalomeni, and others, merely as a conces­ sion to the spectators and to make the plays appear more pleasing on the stage, and that I may be in conformity with the custom of our times. For though Aristotle says this is to cater to the igno­ rance of the spectators and the other method has its defenders, I have still thought it better to satisfy him who has to listen with some lesser excellence (if the opinion of Aristotle is to be accepted as the better) than with a little more grandeur to displease those for whose pleasure the play is put on the stage, because it would be of slight use to compose a playa little more praiseworthy that would be odious when acted. 5 Plots that are terrible because they end unhappily (if it appears the spirits of the spectators abhor them) can serve for closet dramas; those that end happily for the stage.

[Technique of the happy conclusion.

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Nonetheless the happenings in these less terrible tragedies should come about in such a way that the spectators are suspended be­ tween horror and compassion until the end, which, with a happy outcome, should leave everyone consoled. And this holding of the 4 Giraldi writes further on Seneca: "Though these characters [Hecuba and Polyx­ ena] are well presented by Euripides, they are still better presented by Seneca, as can be seen in the Troades, in which, though they appear to bc taken from Euripides, they are nonetheless so treated by Seneca that good judges would set him above Euripi­ des if only his Latin were as pure as the Greek of Euripides, for there is no one who can judge accurately who would not set Seneca higher in majesty, in power to move the feelings, in the observation of character, and in the vigor of his sentences" (p. 262).

This unhesitating preference for Seneca gives an example of the rise and decline of literary reputations in various ages. Giraldi was not alone in his belief. Seneca seems to have been more in accord with the taste of the Elizabethans than were the Greeks.

For Sidney's use of Seneca as a standard of good tragedy, see sect. 48, below.

6Cf. the opinion of Lope de Vega, New Art if Making Comedies, sect. I, below.

[Death behind the scene.

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These deaths, however, come about behind the scenes, because they are not introduced for commiseration but for the sake ofjus­ tice. The action is so planned that the spectators hear the voices of the dying from behind the scenes, or their deaths are narrated either by a messenger or by some other person whom the author selects as suitable to do it. And this method of using narration by a messenger is found not only in tragedies that end happily but in those that end unhappily, when the action ofthe play demands it.

And such deaths should be without cruelty, which in the best plays must not come near those persons from whose sufferings the ter­ rible and the pitiable arise. I believe this is what Horace wished to indicate when he commanded us not to introduce Medea kill­ ing her children on the stage,6 and that he did not (as many think he did) intend to forbid the use of a suitable death on the stage when the nature of affairs demanded it. I have always thought it very strange that Seneca departed from the advice of Horace in Ris Medea, and so much the more because Aristotle did not praise Euripides for having made the heroine in his Medea kill her chil­ dren on the stage not in error but voluntarily.... Since Aristotle had condemned Euripides for having Medea kill her children with full knowledge of the conditions,7 though the deaths happened off the stage, I cannot imagine how Seneca thought to gain renown e Art of Poetry, 18 5, above.

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53b26, above.

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by having her do it on the stage. But leaving to better judges the loosing of this knot, I return to say that Horace with his precept did not mean to forbid that appropriate deaths should be openly enacted but that those accompanied with cruelty should be avoided. This is especially true because Aristotle says that the deaths, torments, and wounds that come about through error among relatives, if they are done openly, are well suited to tragic compassion, though I know there are those who interpret Aris­ totle's words en tofanero otherwise than we do or than Valla and Paccio have done before us. 8 But in truth (as Horace himself says) our spirits are less quickly moved by things that are heard than by those that are seen. 9 Therefore the action that is narrated is less terrible and less compassionable than when it is seen. If, then, events are not incredible (as that Procne should be made into a bird or Cadmus transformed into a serpent) or do not come on the stage with cruelty, as when children are deliberately killed by their father or mother (which in addition to cruelty carries also with it incredibility), happenings that are terrible and compas­ sionable can be presented on the stage in order that they may be more effective on the minds of the spectators than when merely related. And if some say there is no example of this in Greek trag­ edies, I say that we do not have all those that were read in the time of Aristotle, because if we had the examples he adduces, when he speaks of presenting deaths before the audience, we should see that they were not removed from the stage but rather were accepted in those times and by those poets. If our lack of examples were a decisive argument, we ought to say, because we do not now find among the tragedies we read any with feigned plots, that there never were any and that we should not now compose them, though Aristotle does not blame them but rather allows them....

[Various endings for tragedy. 224J You ought to know that tragedies that end happily are better adapted for intricate knots and are more praiseworthy when douB The words en to fanero, "on the stage," are not, as Giraldi seems to suggest, con­ nected with Aristotle's discussion of terrible deeds involving relatives (Poetics XIV).

Among those who give another interpretation is Castelvetro, who, in his desire to reconcile Horace and Aristotle, suggests that these words do not mean "on the stage" or "before the audience," but "famous deaths, and not those of common ordinary persons, but such as those of Clytemnestra, Ajax, and Hercules, which, because of the person to whom they happened and the causes whence they came about and their manner, have come to the knowledge of the world through either history or fame" (On Poetics, Xl, p. 255).

9 Art of Poetry, 180-2, above.

ble than those that end unhappily, for the latter are rather better simple than double. By the simple I do not understand those that are opposite to the intricate, but those whose action rests on a single quality of person and is not managed on the stage with ac­ tions of diverse nature; to wit, there should be but one wise man, one foolish man, one who is cruel, one mild, one avaricious, one liberal, one simple, one astute. Hence plays ending unhappily are more like the Iliad, those ending happily like the Ocfyssry, both in the argument and the mingling of persons, so that it appears that in these two compositions Homer wished to give us the example of one and the other type of tragedy, as in the Margites he gave us an example of comedy, which was less to be blamed in his times (though Plutarch condemns those who believe the Margites is by Homer); from this can be seen how greatly they are deceived who have said that the Iliad gives us the form of tragedy and the Ocfyssry that of comedy, since both furnish an example of tragedy, the first of a tragedy ending unhappily, and the second of one end­ ing happily. Critics fell into this error because they were of the opinion that there cannot be a tragedy which ends happily. And though we have said that for wicked persons no compassion is felt, and their fate is not terrible, I do not wish you therefore to believe that such persons cannot give a tragedy its name, for there are suc­ cessful instances among the ancients, as we see from the Medea and the Thyestes of Seneca, and others of the kind. It often comes about that the name is given to tragedy by those persons from whom the events of the play have their origin, though these per­ sons are fitted neither for horror nor for compassion, because they are not introduced there for that type of effect, which does not come from wicked persons but from those of a middle sort, as we have said....

[Realistic language in the drama. 228] Those verses which are called sdruccioli [ending with an accent on the antepenult] because of their hasty cadence at the con­ dusion have been accepted by our Ariosto and his followers for comedies, though this is not satisfactory to me because these verses are not in harmony with the speech of every day, for comic speech should be assimilated more nearly to that than to any other, but they carry with them a suggestion of literary labor such as should not appear on the stage: The speeches of comic characters should be so like familiar conversation that they seem like the talk of

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friends and intimates when they have occasion to speak of such things as are dealt with in the play; yet persons of this kind do not utter a sdrucciolo once a day. There is, however, in familiar speech a great number of verses of eleven syllables. Therefore, it seems to me that this is the type ofverse in which both tragedy and comedy should be composed, though the verses used in comedy should be like the speech of the common people, and those of tragedy like the language of the great and noble.

causing trouble. In the fifth is given the expected end with a fit­ ting solution for all the argument. These reasons serve only for comedy, but with the proper changes can serve also for tragedy, and this division has been common to both tragedy and comedy.

[Rhyme in comedy. 229] In comedy, however, these verses should be wholly without rhyme, for verses with rhyme are farther from the speech of every day than any others, carrying with them more suggestion of the study than those without rhyme. On the contrary, rhyme is in place in some parts of tragedy in dialogue and chiefly in speeches by the chorus, and for greater harmony there should be a mingling of irregular with regular rhymes; I refer, though, to the choruses that divide one act from another, and not to those speeches by the chorus that are mingled with those of the other actors, for in the latter instance but one person of the chorus speaks and not the whole body as one....

[Rhyme in tragedy. 234] Rhyme is also suitable for tragedy, in the moral parts and in affecting scenes, such as are brought in for the sake of producing compassion or showing unexpected gladness, for pleasant feelings and sentences composed for persuasion can sometimes be set forth in similar verses, that they may the more easily be received into the mind of him who listens, but this is not so necessary that it can­ not be omitted without blame. The other parts of a tragedy should be offull-Iength verses without rhyme, for full-length verses with rhyme are not more suitable for tragedy among us than are heroic verses among the Greeks and Latins. . . .

[Five acts. 255] The Latins have held that a plot should be divided into five lO acts.

In the first the argument should be contained. In the second the things contained in the argument begin to move to­ ward their end. In the third come impediments and perturba­ tions. In the fourth begins to appear a way to remedy what is 10 Horace, Art of Poetry, r8g, above.

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[The language of tragedy. 264] The speech of tragedy should be grand, royal, magnificent, and figurative; that of comedy should be simple, pure, familiar, and suited to men of the people.

Hence only occasionally is it fitting to use in comedy those orna­ ments of speech, those lofty modes of speaking, those similitudes, those comparisons, those figures, those oppositions of words that the Greeks call antitheses, and those other ornaments that are suitable to tragedy, since this is foreign to the persons of comedy, and he who thinks by their means to give splendor to his composi­ tion brings to it darkness and unsuitability. Tragedy on the con­ trary loves all these things, for there is not a form of speech so figurative, so long as it is according to decorum and fitting, that is not properly used in tragedy, so much is tragedy superior in gravity to every other sort of composition....

It was said that the language of tragedy should be according to decorum and suitable, for these figurative and lofty modes of speech are little suited to persons who are weighted down with great sorrow, for it appears hardly true to life that a person crushed by grief could turn his mind to this manner of language.... 11 Yet these figures of speech are fitting to that person who under the name of the messenger comes to reveal what has been done behind the scenes, on which depends the suffering and the horror of the play, and because of the station of the persons who suffer or of those to whom the unhappy chance is narrated, these figures of speech are suited, as is shown by examples in Greek and Latin tragedy. And we also have followed their steps in our Orbecche, in the messenger who brings tidings of the death of Orontes and 11 Elizabethan practice is often at variance with this belief. For example, Othello, I1-aving discovered too late his horrible mistake in thinking Desdemona unfaithful, says:

•.. Must you speak ... of one whose hand Like the base Indian, threw a pearl away Richer than all his tribe; of one whose subdued eyes Albeit unused to the melting mood, Drop tears as fast as the Arabian trees Their med'cinable gum fithello, v, ii, 342fT.

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of the children. And I believe that this is conceded to such a per­ son because from him comes all the horror and the compassion that is the sinew of the play, and which should be made strong with every manner of speech that is fitted to it. Besides, the horror of what has come about induces awe and a certain shuddering, which he who has seen it with his own eyes can produce; therefore the messenger, as though touched with fury, can utter only grand words, full of the horror he has in his mind, and he should use all his powers in narrating the pitiable and horrible chance, to show the actions, the plaints, the words, the cruelty, the desperation, the manner in which the sufferer fell, and other such things, all of which are comprehended in saying that he was very cruelly killed; those few words would say it all, but less effectively than by giving it in detail.

ON THE COMPOSITION OF ROMANCES (selections) 1549

[The non-Aristotelian epic. 191] If a good poet should set himself to treat the deeds of Hercules or of Theseus ... and should wish in a single poem to describe the whole life and all the illustrious actions of either one in order to put before the eyes of the reader the honored and praiseworthy life of a brave man, as Xenophon did for Cyrus in his Cyropaedia and as perhaps Statius wished to do in his Achilleid and as Silius did for Hannibal, I do not believe it would be unfitting to com­ mence from the beginning of their lives and go through them to the end, for such a poem would not be written without splendor in the composition and without the pleasure and profit of the reader. For if we are glad to read in prose the lives of Themis­ todes, Coriolanus, Romulus, and other excellent men, why should it be less pleasing and less profitable to read them when arranged in verses by a noble and wise poet who knows how the lives of heroes should be written in verse in the guise of history as an ex­ ample to mankind? I believe also that Suidas had such a poem in mind when he said the epic, which is not other than heroic com­ position in verse, was history, for he does not hold it improper to set forth in verse, in the manner of history, the life of a man who fully deserves the name ofhero. And as the composition of history 1 The

nwnbers indicating the sections are those of pages in the edition of 1554-.

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begins with the beginning of things,2 so works dealing with the whole life ofa man open with the first of his illustrious deeds. And ifin the cradle he gave sign of his greatness, with the cradle should hegin the actions of his life. And if you say to me that Vergil did not do so for Aeneas nor Homer for Achilles in the Iliad and for Ulysses in the Oqyssry, it seems to me proper to answer that both were attempting poems of a single action and not the poem that follows the style and manner of history. And though it appeared to Aristotle that if a man set out to produce such a composition it would be infinite, and therefore he did not praise it} yet I am of the opinion (and I wish to speak with all the reverence I feel for so great a writer as Aristotle) this is not a sufficient cause to deter a judicious poet from undertaking such a work. There are a thou­ sand means of shortening a work without giving up the descrip­ tion of the whole life of the man on whom the poet has set out to write, such as to have some things predicted by a diviner, to have others painted, and still others narrated. In this way can be treated all events not so splendid as to deserve such description as the others. By these means the poet will keep the work from sur­ passing its proper limits; for he should not wish to write of every thing so fully as to leave no place where the reader would not need to linger somewhat and exert a little effort to understand the pas­ sage. And that this can easily be done by an ingenious poet Ovid has shown in his Metamorphoses, for delivering himself with admi­ rable skill from Aristotle's laws of art, he began the work with the beginning of the world and with astonishingly good sequence treated a great variety of things, and nonetheless covered them in a smaller number of books than Homer used in the Iliad and in the Oqyssry, though each of these contained but a single action. Nor was Pisander among the Greeks unlike Ovid in treating a diversity ofthings, for he too began his work with the wedding ofJuno and Jove and wrote in sequence all that happened up to his own times. 4 This is enough to show that the laws given by Aristotle have refer­ ence only to poems of a single action, and that all the poetical \::ompositions that contain the deeds of heroes are included within the limits Aristotle gave the poets who write poems of single actions....

Z Apparently a common theory. Sir Walter Raleigh began his History if the World with the creation.

3This section is directed against the view expressed in Poetics VIn, above, and accepted by many Renaissance critics.

4Pisander's work is now lost.