SHERIDAN'S COMEDY OF RHETORIC

SHERIDAN'S COMEDY OF RHETORICAuthor(s): David BowmanSource: Interpretations, Vol. 6, No. 1 (1974), pp. 31-38Published by: Scriptorium PressStable URL: http://www.jstor.org/stable/23239895 .

Accessed: 17/06/2014 23:46

Your use of the JSTOR archive indicates your acceptance of the Terms & Conditions of Use, available at .http://www.jstor.org/page/info/about/policies/terms.jsp

.JSTOR is a not-for-profit service that helps scholars, researchers, and students discover, use, and build upon a wide range ofcontent in a trusted digital archive. We use information technology and tools to increase productivity and facilitate new formsof scholarship. For more information about JSTOR, please contact [email protected].

.

Scriptorium Press is collaborating with JSTOR to digitize, preserve and extend access to Interpretations.

http://www.jstor.org

This content downloaded from 195.78.109.12 on Tue, 17 Jun 2014 23:46:14 PMAll use subject to JSTOR Terms and Conditions

http://www.jstor.org/action/showPublisher?publisherCode=scriptorium

http://www.jstor.org/stable/23239895?origin=JSTOR-pdf

http://www.jstor.org/page/info/about/policies/terms.jsp


SHERIDAN'S COMEDY OF RHETORIC

Richard Brinsley Sheridan (1751-1816) inherited considerable skill in rhetoric from his father and grandfather. Thomas Sheridan (1687-1738) was an authority on Greek and Roman rhetoric and a close friend of that

great rhetorician Jonathan Swift. Richard's father, also named Thomas

(1719-1788), was an actor, teacher of oratory, orthoepist (teacher of cor rect pronunciation) and a key figure in the "elocutionary movement" of the

eighteenth century. It isn't surprising, therefore, that the youngest Sheridan's best plays, The Rivals and The School for Scandal, depend upon extensive use of rhetoric in composition (structural devices, word order changes, additions, omissions, manipulation of meaning, and word

play) and rhetoric in argument (presentation and refutation). Rhetoric would also be misused (redundance, inept tropes, and over-emotionalism) for comic purposes.

A close study of these two plays shows examples of seventy kinds of

figures and tropes, out of perhaps two hundred kinds mentioned by various

rhetoric texts in use during Sheridan's time.1 According to the highly de

veloped classification scheme of his day, these seventy bear labels such as

paronomasia, antanaclasis, polyptoton, and so on. The labels themselves

are of little importance, and sources of exasperation to eighteenth-century

schoolboys, but the compositional skill they represent is of considerable

value in studying the plays, poems, and prose of English literature written

between the beginning of Elizabeth's reign and the end of the eighteenth

century—between Thomas Wilson' Art of English Poesie (1560) and the

preface to the Lyrical Ballads (1798) which called for an end to rhetorical

excesses.2 So Sheridan's plays, first produced in 1775 and 1777, come at

the end of this rhetorical tradition and are a fitting tribute to it.

The Rivals has left English comedy an unusually large number of fine

characters. A great part of their characterization comes from the compara tive brilliance or ineptness of their rhetoric. As the hero of the play, Captain Absolute is the cleverest of all; his wit shows up in many different ways, for

he is above all the master of rhetoric. On one occasion he makes a conceit

(analogical argument) worthy of John Donne's twin compasses:

FAULKLAND. What can you mean? — Has Lydia changed her mind? — I should have thought her duty and inclination

would have pointed to the same object. ABSOLUTE. Ay, just as the eyes do of a person who squints: when her love-eye was fixed on me, t'other, her eye of duty, was finely obliqued: but when duty bid her point that the same

way, off t'other turned on a swivel, and secured its retreat with

a frown (p. 65).3

In the same way, Sir Anthony is characterized by his flamboyant but re dundant speech; Faulkland and Julia by their over-emotionalism; Lydia

Languish by her romantic flourishes; Bob Acres by his ridiculous oaths and

31



figures; and Mrs. Malaprop by her "select words so ingeniously misap

plied, without being mispronounced" (p. 16). This last phrase is surely a

gibe at orthoepy's pretensions. Instead of dealing with all the characters in the play, I will pass over

the ones whose speech is full of rhetorical excesses (Lydia, Faulkland, and

Julia) in order to focus on the three most skillful rhetoricians in the play —

Captain Absolute, his father Sir Anthony, and David, the clever valet.

In this particular passage, Sir Anthony is the one "up" in the match of

wits and Captain Absolute is the one "down". Sir Anthony's first comic

retort makes use of antistrophe (inverting the opponent's own argument):

ABSOLUTE. Sure, sir, this is not very reasonable to summon

my affections for a lady I know nothing of!

SIR ANTHONY. I am sure, sir, 'tis more unreasonable in you to object to a lady you know nothing of (p. 31).

Sir Anthony's second retort immediately following is a response to

Absolute's rather silly synecdoche:

ABSOLUTE. My heart is engaged to an angel. SIR ANTHONY. Then pray let it send an excuse. It is so very

sorry—but business prevents its waiting on her.

ABSOLUTE. But my vows are pledged to her.

SIR ANTHONY. Let her foreclose, Jack; let her foreclose;

they are not worth redeeming; besides, you have the angel's vows in exchange, I suppose; so there can be no loss there (p.

31).

The word engaged cues the retort excuse; business cues Absolute's attempt

to rally with the word pledged. But this mimesis (using the language of

another profession) backfires: Sir Anthony retorts with more language drawn from the same financial world .foreclose, redeeming, exchange, and

loss. Jack is beaten at his own game. In the same scene, Sir Anthony shows more rhetorical finesse —

Sheridan's own father must have done this to him on numerous occasions — while scoring point after point by epimone (redundant material) for a

consciously comic effect. For example, he says, "you know I am com

pliance itself — when I am not thwarted — no one is more easily led —

when I have my own way" (p. 31). The comedy comes from the oxymoron

(apparent paradox) in the redundancies. In arguing his power to choose the

girl Jack shall marry, Sir Anthony uses anaphora (identical initial words):

"The lady shall be as ugly as I choose: she shall have a hump on each

shoulder; she shall be as crooked as the Crescent; her one eye shall roll like

the bull's in Cox's Museum; she shall have a skin like a mummy, and the

beard of a Jew" (p. 31). He sums up with symploce (same beginnings and

endings) Jack's fate for disobedience: "I'll disown you, I'll disinherit you, I'll unget you!" (pp. 31-32).

When wooing Lydia Languish, Absolute spares no rhetorical ex

32



pense, giving her the kind of rhetorical flourishes her heart desires, and she

says, "How persuasive are his words!" This encourages him to humor her

romanticism further with sheer nonsense.

ABSOLUTE. Ah! my soul, what a life will we live! Love shall

be our idol and support! we will worship him with a monastic

strictness; abjuring all worldly toys, to centre every thought and action there. Proud of every calamity, we will enjoy the

wreck of wealth; while the gloom of adversity shall make the

flame of our pure love show doubly bright. By heavens! 1

would fling all goods of fortune from me with a prodigal hand, to enjoy the scene where I might clasp my Lydia to my bosom, and say, the world affords no smile to me but here—

LYDIA (aside). Now could I fly with him to the antipodes! (pp. 46-47).

His speech begins with ecphonesis (emotional exclamation), moves to

prosopopeia (personification) and stock metaphors like "gloom of adver

sity" and "flame of love", and then finishes with a diatyposis (vivid

word-picture) of clasping her to his bosom, and soon. Lydia responds with

a suitably extravagant hyperbole about the antipodes. In the opening moments of Act Four, Bob Acres' clever valet David is

trying to get him to call off the duel. In doing so, David shows a great deal

of wit, countering Acres' first two arguments by antimetabole (inverting the word order of the opposing argument) and his second two statements by

antistrophe (inverting the sense of the opposing argument).

ACRES. But my honour, David! I must be very careful of my honour!

DAVID. Ay, by the mass! and I would be very careful of it; and I think in return my honour couldn't do less than to be

careful of me.

ACRES. Odds blades! David, no gentleman will ever risk the loss of his honour! DAVID. I say then, it would be but civil in honour never to

risk the loss of a gentleman. . .

ACRES. . . . your honour follows you to the grave. DAVID. Now, that's just the place where I could make a shift

to do without it. . .

ACRES. . . What, shall I disgrace my ancestors?

DAVID. Under favour, the surest way of not disgracing them, is to keep as long as you can out of their company (pp. 52-53).

In turning to The School for Scandal, it should be pointed out that the

play's comedy depends more on the relations between characters them

selves than on individual characterizations; the members of the scandal

school function more as an ensemble than as individuals: all its members

contribute equally to the comedy.

33



Unlike the characters in The Rivals, the characters in The School for Scandal do not show a clear superiority or inferiority based on their rhetori

cal skill. All have their witty moments, and all have their turn as the butt of

the joke. Their characterization is differentiated more by whether their wit

"keeps company with malice," as Maria puts it (p. 233), or is free from

malice and is "allied to good nature," as Sir Peter puts it (p. 249). The other members of the scandal school agree that Mrs. Candour is

the most accomplished person among them. Her favorite rhetorical devices

allow her to do precisely what she professes not to do. She uses the device

ofapophasis (denying something that will be done):

To be sure they are: tale-bearers are as bad as the tale

makers. . .Miss Tattle, who was by, affirmed that Lord Buf

falo had discovered his lady at a house of no extraordinary fame. . .But Lord, do you think I would report these things! No, no! (p. 235).

She uses a similar device, paralipsis (professing to pass over something

quickly that will be treated in full), in the second scandal-school scene:

Nay, her bulk is her misfortune; and when she takes such pains to get rid of it, you ought not to reflect on her (p. 247).

This, of course, is the cue for Lady Teazle to say

Yes, I know she almost lives on acids and small whey; laces

herself up by pulleys; and often, in the hottest noon of summer,

you may see heron a little pony, with her hair platted up behind

like a drummer's, and puffing round the Ring on a full trot.

MRS. CANDOUR. I thank you, Lady Teazle, for defending her (p. 248).

A good example of the scandal school's rhetorical finesse comes out

as ensembles, working in concert (not against each other as in a match of

wits); in this case a "rhetorical trio" of Candour, Lady Teazle, and Sir

Benjamin employs antanaclasis (shifting meanings of the same word):

MRS. CANDOUR. She has a charming fresh colour.

LADY TEAZLE. Yes, when it's fresh put on. MRS. CANDOUR. O fie! I'll swear her color is natural—I have seen it come and go. LADY TEAZLE. I dare swear you have, ma'am—it comes of

a night, and goes in the morning. . .

MRS. CANDOUR. Now positively you wrong her; fifty-two or fity-three at the utmost—and I don't think she looks more.

SIR BENJAMIN. Ah! There is no judging by her looks, unless one could see her face (p. 246).

34



Another rhetorical trio is formed soon afterwards of Candour, Crabtree, and Sir Benjamin, offering two elaborate comparisons set up by the techni

que of exergasis (elaboration by incremental addition):

MRS. CANDOUR. Well, I never will join in ridiculing a friend; and so I constantly tell cousin Ogle, and you all know

what pretensions she has to be critical in beauty. CRABTREE. Oh, to be sure, she has herself the oddest

countenance that was ever seen; 'tis a collection of features

from all the different countries of the globe. SIR BENJAMIN. So she has, indeed—an Irish front!

CRABTREE. Caledonian locks!

SIR BENJAMIN. Dutch nose!

CRABTREE. Austrian lip! SIR BENJAMIN. Complexion of a Spaniard! CRABTREE. And teeth a la Chinoise! SIR BENJAMIN. In short: her face resembles stable d'hote at

Spa—where no two guests are of a nation—

CRABTREE. Or a congress at the close of a general war

—wherein all the members, even to her eyes, appear to have a

different interest, and her nose and chin are the only parties

likely to join issue (pp. 248-9).

In such company, Sir Peter Teazle is clearly outmatched. They turn his

statement against him in two examples of synchoresis (granting a point and

then using it against the opponent who made it):

SIR PETER. Ah, madam, true wit is more nearly allied to

good nature than your ladyship is aware of. LADY TEAZLE. True, Sir Peter; I believe they are so near akin that they can never be united.

SIR BENJAMIN. Or rather, madam, suppose them man and

wife, because no one ever sees them together, (p. 249).

Though Charles Surface is known to the scandal school as "the most

extravagant and dissipated fellow in the kingdom" (p. 230), his redeeming features include an amiable display of rhetoric. In introducing himself to

"Mr. Premium" (who is his rich uncle Oliver in disguise), Charles says,

I am an extravagant young fellow who wants money to bor

row; you I take to be a prudent old fellow, who has got money to lend. I am blockhead enough to give fifty per cent sooner

than not have it; and you, I suppose, are rogue enough to take a

hundred if you could get it. (p. 267).

In addition to its artful use of antithesis, this speech of Charles is a notable

way to present an argument known asparrhesis (boldly admitting or leny

35



ing), otherwise known to the age as "plain dealing" (p. 267). In the "picture room scene," where Charles auctions off his ances

tors' portraits to his uncle Oliver, the importance of the "asides" increases.

When commenting on their using a genealogical scroll as an auction ham

mer to sell the portraits, Sir Oliver says with deliberate oxymoron: "What

an unnatural rogue!—an ex post facto parricide!" (p. 271). As the pictures are auctioned, Charles tells his servant Careless to "knock down" his an

cestors' portraits; the comedy comes from the metonymy in referring to the

people portrayed, rather than to the portraits as portraits: "knock down my Uncle Richard. . .knockdown my aunt Deborah!" and so on (pp. 272-5).

After Oliver leaves, Charles guesses the proverb Rowley is going to

throw at him and dismisses it by the use of prosopopeia personification) and paradiastole (interpreting the terms of an argument so they have a

different meaning or are meaningless):

'Be just before you're generous, 'hey! —

why so I would if I

could; but Justice is an old lame hobbling beldame, and I can't

get her to keep pace with Generosity, for the soul of me (p. 275).

Charles' older brother, Joseph Surface, shows himself as a master of

argumentation, especially in the "screen scene," in attempting to convince

Lady Teazle she should be more discreet about the affair they are having. His favorite device is to mask spurious logic with rhetorical bravura. For

example, when he tells her "your character at present is like a person in a

plethora, absolutely dying of too much health" (p. 279), his analogical

argument turns on his use ofhorismos defining terms in a special or unusual

way). The fallacy lies in his erroneous definition, for plethora is an excess

of blood, not an excess of health. Joseph also seems to invent sententia

(sentiments) rather than merely having a stock of them committed to mem

ory. His "Prudence, like experience, must be paid for" (p. 279) is proba

bly just such an invention. Used as an argumentative approach known as

apodixis (use of reason or general experience), it is impressive enough. But

when broken down as a syllogism (experience must be paid for; prudence is

like experience; therefore, prudence must be paid for), the obvious

difficulty is in the second premise, the assumption that prudence is like

experience. The second part of the screen scene involves Joseph and Sir Peter.

When Sir Peter admires the maps on the screen, Joseph makes a witty aside

that is a form of epistrophei since the last part of the two sentences is

identical, the wit comes from the substitution of hide for find, with Lady Teazle hiding behind the screen.

JOSEPH. Oh, yes, I find great use for that screen.

SIR PETER. I dare say you must—certainly—when you want

to find anything in a hurry. JOSEPH (aside). Aye, or to hide anything in a hurry (p. 280).

36



A standard rhetorical device in countering arguments is the use of apodioxis

(boldly rejecting as absurd, impossible, etc.). When Sir Peter suggests that

Charles is the person involved with Lady Teazle, Joseph replies, "My brother! impossible! (p. 281). The comedy comes from the fact that it is

impossible. On the other hand, when Charles comes into the room and suggests

that Joseph is Lady Teazle's favorite, Joseph uses the same device: "Oh, for shame, Charles! This retort is foolish" (p. 285). This time the comedy comes from the fact that the suggestion is absolutely true.

Although Sheridan was aware of the dangers of rhetorical excesses, he

could never resist using them for the purposes of comedy. In The Critic, his

stage burlesque of the tragedy of that day, he opens by quoting from a

reviewer's praise Mr. Puffs new tragedy ("this piece abounds with the

most striking and received beauties of modern composition'' (p. 316), then

he lets Puff draw the moral for himself:

And now, I think, you shall hear some better language: I was

obliged to be plain and intelligible in the first scene, because there was so much matter of fact in it; but now, i'faith, you have trope, figure, and metaphor, as plenty of noun

substantives (p. 341).

Sheridan speaks of the theatre of his day through his critics Dangle and

Sneer; but he speaks ironically, because they are expressing their disap

proval of the very things for which Sheridan's comedy stands.

SNEER. I am quite of your opinion, Mrs. Dangle: the theatre, in proper hands, might certainly be made the school of moral

ity; but now, I am sorry to say, people seem to go there princi

pally for entertainment!

DANGLE. . .1 think the worst alteration is in the nicety of the

audience!—No double entendre, no smart innuendo admitted; even Vanbrugh and Congreve obliged to undergo a bungling reformation! (p. 319).

Sheridan had to raise the level of the comedy on stage from the older inde

cencies of Wycherly and Vanbrugh comedy without running the opposite

danger of indulging in the school-of-morality sentimental comedy. Part of

his solution was to refine the older and more traditional comic forms —

including farce (St. Patrick's Day), comic opera (The Duenna), burlesque

(The Critic) — seen at their best in The Rivals and The School for Scandal. But equally important, he created a newer and finer rhetorical comedy.

David Bowman Assistant Professor of English

37



NOTES

'A number of eighteenth-century rhetorics have been reprinted by the Scolar Press as offset facsimiles; especially useful are John Stirling's System of Rhetoric (1733) and Thomas Gib bons' Rhetoric (1767).

2Brian Vickers, Classical Rhetoric in English Poetry (London: Macmillan, 1970), p. 58. Vickers laments the fact that few teachers of literature are interested in rhetoric; nevertheless, among the few who have approached works through classical rhetoric, some notable successes have resulted, including Ian Jack's Augustan Satire (Oxford University Press, 1952); Charles Beaumont's Swift's Classical Rhetoric (University of Georgia Press, 1961); J.B. Broadbent's "Milton's Rhetoric," Modern Philology LVI (1959) 224-242; E.R. Curtius' European Liter ature in the Latin Middle Ages (New York; Pantheon Books, 1953); and Sister Miriam

Joseph's Rhetoric in Shakespeare's Time (New York; Harcourt, Brace & World, 1962).

3Page references in the text are to Richard Brinsley Sheridan: Six Plays (New York: Hill and

Wang, 1957).



Documents

SHERIDAN'S COMEDY OF RHETORIC