In constructing the plot and working it out with the proper diction,
the poet should place the scene, as far as possible, before his eyes. In
this way, seeing everything with the utmost vividness, as if he were a
spectator of the action, he will discover what is in keeping with it,
and be most unlikely to overlook inconsistencies. The need of such a
rule is shown by the fault found in Carcinus. Amphiaraus was on his way
from the temple. This fact escaped the observation of one who did not
see the situation. On the stage, however, the piece failed, the audience
being offended at the oversight.
Again, the poet should work out his play, to the best of his power, with
appropriate gestures; for those who feel emotion are most convincing
through natural sympathy with the characters they represent; and one
who is agitated storms, one who is angry rages, with the most life-like
reality. Hence poetry implies either a happy gift of nature or a strain
of madness. In the one case a man can take the mould of any character;
in the other, he is lifted out of his proper self.
As for the story, whether the poet takes it ready made or constructs it
for himself, he should first sketch its general outline, and then
fill in the episodes and amplify in detail. The general plan may be
illustrated by the Iphigenia. A young girl is sacrificed; she disappears
mysteriously from the eyes of those who sacrificed her; She is
transported to another country, where the custom is to offer up all
strangers to the goddess. To this ministry she is appointed. Some time
later her own brother chances to arrive. The fact that the oracle for
some reason ordered him to go there, is outside the general plan of the
play. The purpose, again, of his coming is outside the action proper.
However, he comes, he is seized, and, when on the point of being
sacrificed, reveals who he is. The mode of recognition may be either
that of Euripides or of Polyidus, in whose play he exclaims very
naturally:--'So it was not my sister only, but I too, who was doomed to
be sacrificed'; and by that remark he is saved.
After this, the names being once given, it remains to fill in the
episodes. We must see that they are relevant to the action. In the case
of Orestes, for example, there is the madness which led to his capture,
and his deliverance by means of the purificatory rite. In the drama, the
episodes are short, but it is these that give extension to Epic poetry.
Thus the story of the Odyssey can be stated briefly. A certain man is
absent from home for many years; he is jealously watched by Poseidon,
and left desolate. Meanwhile his home is in a wretched plight--suitors
are wasting his substance and plotting against his son. At length,
tempest-tost, he himself arrives; he makes certain persons acquainted
with him; he attacks the suitors with his own hand, and is himself
preserved while he destroys them. This is the essence of the plot; the
rest is episode.