n the tragic incident occurs
between those who are near or dear to one another--if, for example, a
brother kills, or intends to kill, a brother, a son his father, a mother
her son, a son his mother, or any other deed of the kind is done--these
are the situations to be looked for by the poet. He may not indeed
destroy the framework of the received legends--the fact, for instance,
that Clytemnestra was slain by Orestes and Eriphyle by Alcmaeon but he
ought to show invention of his own, and skilfully handle the traditional
material. Let us explain more clearly what is meant by skilful handling.

The action may be done consciously and with knowledge of the persons, in
the manner of the older poets. It is thus too that Euripides makes Medea
slay her children. Or, again, the deed of horror may be done, but
done in ignorance, and the tie of kinship or friendship be discovered
afterwards. The Oedipus of Sophocles is an example. Here, indeed, the
incident is outside the drama proper; but cases occur where it falls
within the action of the play: one may cite the Alcmaeon of Astydamas,
or Telegonus in the Wounded Odysseus. Again, there is a third case,--<to
be about to act with knowledge of the persons and then not to act. The
fourth case is> when some one is about to do an irreparable deed through
ignorance, and makes the discovery before it is done. These are the only
possible ways. For the deed must either be done or not done,--and that
wittingly or unwittingly. But of all these ways, to be about to act
knowing the persons, and then not to act, is the worst. It is shocking
without being tragic, for no disaster follows. It is, therefore, never,
or very rarely, found in poetry. One instance, however, is in the
Antigone, where Haemon threatens to kill Creon. The next and better way
is that the deed should be perpetrated. Still better, that it should be
perpetrated in ignorance, and the discovery made afterwards. There
is then nothing to shock us, while the discovery produces a startling
effect. The last case is the best, as when in the Cresphontes Merope is
about to slay her son, but, recognising who he is, spares his life. So
in the Iphigenia, the sister recognises the brother just in time. Again
in the Helle, the son recognises the mother when on the point of giving
her up. This, then, is why a few families only, as has been already
observed, furnish the subjects of tragedy. It was not art, but happy
chance, that led the poets in