A place you little dream on.
The unconscious irony, however, is likely to be more tragic in its tone. So when Iago first conceives his groundless suspicions of his wife and Othello he vows that he will be
evened with him, wife for wife.
[Othello, Act II, scene 2],
and these words are fulfilled in a sense far different than he intended, by the death of both wives. For this sort of irony Sophocles was especially renowned, and his Oedipus the King abounds in instances. One must suffice. Oedipus has slain his own father, the reigning king, though these facts are unknown to him. Being now directed by an oracle to investigate his predecessor’s death, he declares, with more meaning than he realized: “I will fight this battle for him as for mine own sire” (vss. 264).
It is possible to draw still one more distinction. Dramatic irony consists, not only in the contrast between the outer, apparent meaning and the real, inner meaning of an ambiguous phrase, but also in the contrast between the real and the supposed situation. Thus a man whose ruin is impending often mistakes the position of his affairs so utterly as to indulge in entirely unjustified expressions, feelings, gestures, or acts of rejoicing and triumph. The difference between these two varieties of dramatic irony may be seen in Sophocles’ Maidens of Trachis. In the first place we have the contradiction between the real meaning of the oracle that Heracles’ “release from toils will be accomplished” and Heracles’ own mistaken interpretation thereof (vss. 167 f. and 1170 ff.); and in the second place there is the “irony of situation” in that Deianira sends him a gift which she hopes will woo back his love but which actually results in his death. Euripides’ Bacchanals offers other examples in the boastful and confident attitude of Pentheus, whom the spectators know to be doomed to a frightful end, and in the mock humility of Dionysus, whose intended vengeance they foresee. Again, in Sophocles’ Oedipus the King (vss. 1014 ff.) there is a striking contrast between the intended and the actual effect when the Corinthian messenger informs Oedipus that Polybus was not his father. This irony of situation often consists in the clash or shock of conflicting intrigues, as may be seen in Shakespeare’s Measure for Measure.
But dramatic irony was not confined to tragedy, as a brief analysis of one of Terence’s plays will disclose. In comedy, however, the effect was naturally somewhat different, being more humorous than tragic. In the Andrian Girl, Simo intrigues to test his son’s obedience, pretending that he has arranged an immediate marriage for him with Chremes’ daughter. Accordingly there is irony of situation in the consternation which this false announcement causes (vss. 236 ff. and 301 ff.). Pamphilus’ slave (Davus), however, soon sees through the trick and persuades him to turn back the intrigue (and, consequently, the irony) upon his father by apparent compliance (vss. 420 ff.). But Simo at once proceeds to get Chremes’ consent in fact, so that the dramatic situation is again reversed, as the too clever slave discovers to his surprise when he facetiously inquires why the wedding is being delayed (vss. 581 ff.). Especially galling are Simo’s words (said without a full comprehension of how true they are): “Now I beseech you, Davus, since you alone have brought about this marriage ... exert yourself further that my son be brought into line” (vss. 595 f.). There is also irony in the conduct of Charinus, who is a suitor for Chremes’ daughter and is naturally (though needlessly) disturbed at the thought of Pamphilus’ marrying her (vss. 301 ff., 625 ff., and 957 ff.). Of course there is always irony involved when a man leads himself astray or allows another so to lead him; but as these are the standard themes of comedy, one need not cite every such instance.
The best instance in this play, however, can be appreciated only on second reading or as the memory of the spectator recalls its real significance. Simo wishes his son to marry Chremes’ daughter, but Pamphilus’ affections are already pledged elsewhere. Now unknown to all the parties concerned this sweetheart is also Chremes’ daughter. There is, therefore, more meaning than he intends or perceives in Pamphilus’ despairing question: “Can I in no way avoid relationship with Chremes?” (vs. 247).
This is similar to Admetus’ words in Euripides’ Alcestis (vs. 1102) when Heracles insists that he receive into his home a veiled woman (really Admetus’ own wife restored to life): “Would you had never won her in a wrestling bout!” But in the present instance the identity of Pamphilus’ mistress does not transpire until later, so that, as I have stated, the irony is not at first apparent. There is here a point of difference between tragedy and comedy in antiquity: the themes of tragedy were almost invariably drawn from mythology and the outlines of the story would therefore be known to practically everyone of consequence in the audience; furthermore, the not infrequent practice of foretelling the dénouement in the prologue would put even the ignorant in a position to recognize subtleties in the language of the characters. That the ancient playwrights themselves appreciated this difference appears from the words of the comic poet, Antiphanes, already quoted on [page 127], above. As a result, in ancient tragedy the irony of a situation or ambiguous phrase would be recognized at once without any preparation for it whatsoever, while in ancient comedy and in modern plays, whether tragic or comic, these effects usually have to be led up to. Two other considerations ought also to be mentioned, however. First, audiences exercise a sort of clairvoyance in looking beneath the bare words and divining the course of events, so that (paradoxical at it sounds) the surprises of the stage usually are long foreseen by the spectators and only the expected events happen. Secondly, the dénouement here in question, the discovery that Pamphilus’ sweetheart is the daughter of free parents and, in particular, of someone among the dramatis personae, was so hackneyed in New Comedy, occurring in no less than five of Terence’s six plays, that any frequent theatergoer would have been on the lookout for it and might easily have recognized any subtle effects dependent thereon.
In conclusion, we have to consider the dramatic purpose of tragic irony and its effect upon the audience. Bishop Thirlwall (op. cit., p. 489) pointed out: