/>
The fourth and final permutation is of and is called the PYRRHIC foot. Don’t bother to think about the pyrrhic either for the moment, we’ll be looking at it later. All the feet possible in English are gathered in a table at the end of the chapter, with examples to demonstrate their stresses.
The
Ten syllables, yes, but a count, or measure, of five feet, five
It is a measure of five and the prosodic word, from the Greek again, for ‘measure of five’ is PENTAMETER. That simple line is an example therefore of IAMBIC PENTAMETER.
The Iambic Pentameter
The rising rhythm of the five-beat iambic pentameter has been since the fourteenth century the most widely used metre in English poetry. Chaucer’s
Try reading the following extracts out loud to yourself, noting the varying pulses, some strong and regularly accented, others gentler and more flowing. Each pair of lines is an example of ‘perfect’ iambic pentameter, having exactly ten syllables, five iambic feet (five stresses on the or a / for the
or a–for the
I really would
DON’T LET YOUR EYE FALL FURTHER DOWN THE PAGE THAN THIS LINE until you have taken out your pencil or pen. You may prefer a pencil so that you can rub out your marks and leave this book in pristine condition when you lend it to someone else–naturally the publishers would prefer you to
Read each pair of lines out loud, noting the ti-tum rhythms.
Now MARK the weak/strong (accented/unaccented) syllables and the ‘bar lines’ that separate each foot in this manner:
Or you may find it easier with a pencil to do it like this:
When you have done this, read each pair of lines OUT LOUD once more, exaggerating the stresses on each beat.He sit hym up withouten wordes mo,And with his ax he smoot the corde atwo,4
CHAUCER:
SHAKESPEARE: Sonnet 73In sooth I know not why I am so sad:It wearies me; you say it wearies you;
SHAKESPEARE:
MILTON:
DRYDEN: ‘Epilogue to Oxford’And, spite of Pride, in erring Reason’s spite,One truth is clear, ‘Whatever is, is right.’
POPE:
BYRON:
GRAY: ‘Elegy Written in a Country Churchyard’And certain hopes are with me, that to theeThis labour will be welcome, honoured Friend!
WORDSWORTH:
KEATS: ‘The Eve of St Agnes’The woods decay, the woods decay and fall,The vapours weep their burthen to the ground
TENNYSON: ‘Tithonus’If you could hear, at every jolt, the bloodCome gargling from the froth-corrupted lungs
WILFRED OWEN: ‘Dulce et Decorum Est’When you are old and grey and full of sleepAnd nodding by the fire, take down this book