And superior it is, bebsp;it has all the epibsp;elements—it may even u the epibsp;metre—with the musibsp;and spectacular effebsp;as important accessories; and the produbsp;the most vivid of pleasures.
Further, it has vividness of impression in reading as well as in reprentation.
Moreover, the art attains its end within narrower limits; for the trated effebsp;is more pleasurable than one whibsp;is spread over a long time and so diluted.
What, for example, would be the effebsp;of the Oedipus of Sophocles, if it were cast into a form as long as the Iliad? Onbsp;more, the Epibsp;imitation has less unity; as is shown by this, that any Epibsp;poem will furnish subjebsp;for veral tragedies.
Thus if the story adopted by the poet has a stribsp;unity, it must either be cily told and appear truncated; or, if it to the Epibsp; of length, it must em weak and watery.
(Subsp;length implies some loss of unity,) if, I mean, the poem is structed out of veral as, like the Iliad and the Odysy, whibsp;have many subsp;parts, eabsp;with a certain magnitude of its own.
Yet the poems are as perfebsp;as possible in structure; eabsp;is, in the highest degree attainable, an imitation of a single a.
If, then, Tragedy is superior to Epibsp;poetry in all the respects, and, moreover, fulfils its specifibsp;fun better as an art for eabsp;art ought to produbsp;not any bsp;pleasure, but the pleasure proper to it, as already stated it plainly follows that Tragedy is the higher art, as attaining its end more perfectly.
Thus mubsp;may suffibsp;ing Tragibsp;and Epibsp;poetry in general; their veral kinds and parts, with the number of eabsp;and their differences; the caus that make a poem good or bad; the objes of the critibsp;and the answers to the objes.