6.1 Introduction
The verb phrase [VP] is defined differently from one linguistic model to another. To some the VP consists of the verb and all its dependents, including arguments and adverbials, while to others it consists of just the verb and its auxiliaries if any are present. We follow the second, narrower definition here for practical reasons. As they constitute an inexhaustible area of change by themselves, this chapter deals with just the verbs and auxiliaries of English. Issues of argument realization are discussed in Chapter 9 (“Word Order”). Non-finite verb forms are dealt with in Chapter 8 (“Subordination”).
In comparison to other branches of the Indo-European family tree, Germanic came down with a curiously impoverished verbal system. Set against the three voices, four moods and seven tenses of Ancient Greek or Sanskrit (Baldi, Reference Baldi and Comrie1990: 46), the OE verbal system had little to boast of: a present and past tense, both with indicative and subjunctive mood, and an imperative. Those categories were expressed inflectionally. Of a system of auxiliaries, OE had only the rudimentary beginnings.
In contrast, what marks out the VP in PDE is exactly its rich repertoire of auxiliaries, neatly organized into a system that Denison (Reference Pratt and Denison2000: 111) describes as being ‘among the most systematic areas of English syntax’. In usage, this auxiliary system is rarely deployed to its full potential, but when it is, as in (1), the resultant VP is impressive.
(1) It is not without relevance that his views would have been being formed in the decade after the disastrous Second Jewish Revolt against Rome (GloWbE, IE)
Using various auxiliaries, a PDE VP can express modality, perfect tense, progressive aspect and passive voice – all together or in any combination, as long as the right sequencing is respected. In addition, PDE VPs feature the typological oddity of selecting a special auxiliary do in negative and interrogative clauses, as in (2). Remarkably, auxiliary do is in complementary distribution with the auxiliaries of modality, aspect and voice; where do occurs the other auxiliaries cannot and vice versa.
(2) Dimly he saw that she was holding something, but he did not realize what it was until she spoke again. (BNC)
This elaborate system comes on top of the tense contrast PDE inherited from OE. The only thing the VP was ever likely to lose is the subjunctive mood, but then again even the subjunctive is not quite gone yet; witness (3).
(3) Often his researches demand that he visit the far corners of the world. (BNC)
As far as syntax goes, then, the history of the English VP is mostly a story of gradual complexification. The following describes how the English VP developed from the limited system of OE with only a handful of inflectionally marked contrasts into the more elaborate and largely periphrastic system of PDE. Because the various changes involved are closely interwoven, any subdivision is somewhat arbitrary. The following sections simply follow the traditional distinctions into functional domains, dealing with modality (Section 6.1), aspect (Section 6.2), voice (Section 6.3) and tense (Section 6.4). A separate section is devoted to the rise of do (Section 6.5). Although it is also marked on the verb, this chapter does not deal with agreement (on which see Chapter 7).
6.2 Modality
Formally, modal expressions can be anything, ranging from verbal inflections and auxiliaries to adjectives, adverbs and particles. Common to all modal expressions is their meaning, though exactly what counts as modal meaning is hard to pin down. Generally, modal expressions say something about the state of affairs denoted by the rest of the VP by qualifying its ontological status. By one definition, they express ‘a speaker’s judgement that a proposition is possibly or necessarily true or that the actualisation of a situation is necessary or possible’ (Depraetere and Reed, Reference Depraetere and Reed2006: 269). For example, the speaker in (4) uses may and could to signal, with subtly varying confidence, that a state of affairs is potentially true.
(4) it may be epilepsy but it could be anything else (BNC)
Within the (narrowly defined) VP, modality can either be expressed inflectionally on the main verb, or it can be expressed by means of auxiliaries. The former type of expression is commonly known as ‘mood’. English has three moods: the indicative, subjunctive and imperative. English also has a variety of auxiliaries expressing modal meanings, a subset of which is referred to as the ‘modals’ or ‘modal verbs’. In PDE the modals make up a tightknit group of auxiliary verbs with some unusual syntactic properties. Its core members are can, could, may, might, must, shall, should, will and would. Apart from occupying the position of a finite verb in the clause, the modals are quite unlike any other PDE verbs. None of the modals have non-finite forms; none of them inflect for third person singular; their tense contrasts are more or less defunct; they can be inverted or negated without the help of do; and they can form tag questions. Next to the modals, PDE also has a more open-ended and arguably less bizarre class of so-called semi-modals, including auxiliaries such as got to, have to, need to, or want to. The major developments in the domain of modality, then, are the decline of the OE subjunctive mood, the rise of the modals and, later, the rise of semi-modals.
6.2.1 The Subjunctive
It has been claimed that if a language has a subjunctive at all, then that subjunctive will at least be used to mark low certainty or weak desirability (Givón, Reference Givón2001: 313). Indeed, the OE subjunctive did just that, and some more. In main clauses the subjunctive typically signalled the desirability of a state of affairs, as in (5). This way, it contrasted with the indicative, which presented a state of affairs as factual.
(5) ne beon hi æfre manslagan ne manswican ne mansworan ne …
not be[SUBJ] they ever murderers nor traitors nor perjurers nor … (WHom.10a,11)
‘They may never be murderers or traitors or perjurers or …’
When combined with a second person subject, as in (6), the main clause subjunctive would offer a somewhat toned-down alternative to the imperative – the mood standardly used to issue commands.
(6) ne þu huru me fram þinum bebodum feor adrife[SUBJ]
not thou indeed me from thy commandments far off-drive (PP5(A5)118.10)
‘do not indeed drive me far away from your commandments’
In dependent clauses, the subjunctive would associate with situations that are desirable, conjectural or hypothetical. For example, OE adverbial þæt-clauses would take an indicative to construe a situation as an automatic outcome (result), but a subjunctive to construe it as an intended goal (purpose) (Visser Reference Visser1963: 861). Compare the examples in (7).
a Ic þæt gefremme … þæt ge min onsynn oft sceawiað
I that perform that you my face often behold (Guth.A.B.715)
‘I will ensure that you will often see my face’
b Ic sceal forð sprecan gen ymvbe Grendel … þæt ðu geare cunne..
I must forth speak again about Grendel … that you readily may-know … (Beo.2069)’
‘I must speak again about Grendel so that you may clearly know’
In all, the OE subjunctive was in general use and alternated meaningfully with the other OE moods in many contexts.
What then caused the subjunctive’s demise? Without a doubt, an important catalyst of change was the erosion of inflectional endings. Indicatives, imperatives and subjunctives increasingly coalesced formally, necessitating reliance on other forms to preserve functional contrasts. The exceptions may well prove the rule here, because where the subjunctive survived as an inflectionally distinct form, it would sometimes continue to be used. It is telling, for instance, that the OE first person adhortative, as in (8), was lost but main clause subjunctives in third person wishes continued in existence well into Modern English, as in (9). This is not all that surprising considering that the first person plural of the subjunctive inflection coalesced with the indicative (in the northern and midlands dialects, which became the standard form after the ME period), but the third person singular did not.
(8) Men þa leofestan, herigen[SUBJ]we nu þone ælmihtigan Drihten & lufien[SUBJ]
Men the dearest, praise we now the almighty Lord and love
we hine
we him (HomS.33(Först)199)
‘Beloved men, let us now praise the almighty Lord and let us love him.’
(9) Some heavenly power guide us Out of this fearful country (1610, Visser, Reference Visser1963: 797)
However, the loss of inflectional endings was probably not the only factor involved. While the OE subjunctive was clearly associated with modal meanings, the conjunction or matrix verb heading the subjunctive clause would often signal modality in its own right. In such cases, the subjunctive coded its modal meaning more or less redundantly, as in (10).
(10) Ne bið <his> lof na ðy læsse, ac is wen þæt hit sie þy mare
not will-be his praise not the less, but is likelihood that it be the more (Bo.40.138.19)
‘his praise will not be the less, and it may, quite possibly, be greater’
Redundant contexts effectively rendered the subjunctive meaningless. Perhaps that is why even in OE some contexts saw competition between the subjunctive and indicative. For example, OE typically had the subjunctive in reported speech, but it occasionally allowed the indicative, as shown in (11), which has both moods in coordination.
(11) Wulfstan sæde þæt he gefore of Hæðum, þæt he wære on Truso on
Wulfstan said that he went[SUBJ] from Hedeby, that he was[SUBJ] in Druso in
syfan dagum & nihtum, þæt þæt scip wæs ealne weg yrnende under segle
seven days and nights that that ship was[IND] all way running under sail (Or.1 1.16.21)
‘Wulfstan said that he departed from Hedeby, that he reached Drusno in seven days and nights, and that the ship was running under full sail all the way’
Even where the subjunctive retained its meaning, it lacked the capacity of expressing finer shades of modal meaning without the support of other modal expressions. Particularly in main clauses, where there was no matrix verb or conjunction to guide interpretation, this may well have fostered the grammaticalization of the modals, as in (12).
(12) Þa ðe bet cunnon and magon. sceolon gyman oðra manna
Those who better can and may must heed of-other men (ÆCHom.II,15 159.311)
‘those who have more abilities should take care of other men’
The rise of the modals probably dealt the subjunctive the final blow. By the end of the OE period, modals (often themselves in the subjunctive form) started appearing where earlier a subjunctive form would have sufficed, as in (13).
(13) Forþon us is nydþearf, þæt þa mynstru of þære stowe moten beon
Therefore us is need that the monasteries from that place must [SUBJ] be
gecyrrede to oþre stowe
changed to other place (GD.2(C)5.112.24)
‘it is necessary therefore that the monasteries will be moved from that place to another’
That the modals completely replaced the subjunctive is not true, however. Many subjunctive that-clauses were replaced by to-infinitives (Manabe, Reference Manabe1989; Los, Reference Los2005; see Section 8.2.1). And in some contexts verb forms that had lost their distinctive subjunctive endings simply continued functioning as indicatives, modality being coded elsewhere in the sentence anyway. Compare (14) to (10) above.
(14) it is probable that he then left them again (BNC)
By lModE and PDE the subjunctive has become a rare form, restricted to formal registers and very specific lexico-grammatical contexts. Even so, earlier grammarians who anticipated its complete disappearance have been proven wrong. The subjunctive is still attested in some formulaic wishes (far be it from us to interfere), and there is the past subjunctive form were in counterfactual conditions (if I were you). Finally, PDE has preserved the so-called mandative subjunctive following manipulative verbs (I strongly request that the Minister reconsider the case). Curiously, the latter has been making something of a comeback in American and Australian English, probably because it has acquired social prestige. The present-day state of the subjunctive, then, is aptly summarized in the words of Vaughan and Mulder (Reference Vaughan and Mulder2014: 487): ‘the subjunctive is alive and, if not kicking, it is at least wriggling a bit’. Compared to its use in OE, however, the subjunctive’s role in the grammar of PDE is negligible.
6.2.2 The Modals
When it comes to great controversies in the field of English historical linguistics, the development of the modals is hard to beat. Lightfoot (Reference Lightfoot1979) set the ball rolling with an encompassing theory, the upshot of which was that an entire grammar could undergo radical and abrupt change. The radical change in question was the introduction of a wholly new abstract syntactic category into the grammar of English. The category was AUX (for auxiliary) and its members were the modals. Because the event was sudden, Lightfoot could be quite precise about the timing: the watershed moment was sometime around 1600.
Lightfoot’s story is, briefly, as follows. In OE and ME the core modals willan ‘wish, want’, *sculan ‘be obliged to’, magan ‘be able’,*motan ‘be allowed’ and cunnan ‘know, be able to’ behaved more or less as any other verbs did. Lightfoot, accordingly, does not call these verbs modals yet but ‘pre-modals’. In the course of ME, the pre-modals were involved in a number of accidental and independent changes. Among other things, they lost the ability to take direct objects; their past-tense forms ceased to consistently signal past tense; and they failed to adopt to-infinitival complements as other verbs increasingly did. For example, OE *sculan in (15) still takes both a direct and indirect object – something its PDE counterpart shall stopped doing sometime after 1500.
(15) He cwæð þæt he sceolde him hundteontig mittan hwætes
‘He said that he owed him [a] hundred bushels of-wheat’ (ÆHom.17,26)
As another example, ME might in (16a) still functions as a past tense of may, expressing past ability, but in (16b) it expresses a potentiality that holds at the time of speaking.
a He was of grete elde, & myght not trauaile.
‘He was of great age and was unable to travel’ (Langtoft’s-Chron.p.3)
b Come now, deth, I wile the calle, I wold þou myhtest myn herte cleue’
‘Come now death, I want to call you, I wish[ed] that you might cleave my heart’
(Vernon-Ms,688)
These and other changes gradually dissociated the pre-modals from other verbs to the point that they were no longer recognizable as verbs at all, forcing speakers to assign them to a different syntactic class altogether. With this, the modals were born. Their birth was marked by another set of changes, yet these took place suddenly and simultaneously. The modals shed all their non-finite forms (infinitives, present participles and past participles) and they ceased to occur in combination. This must have happened sometime around 1600, after which time the forms in (17) had all become ungrammatical.
a [Infinitive]
for he seyde manie tymis that ho so euer schuld dwelle at Paston schulde have nede to conne defende hymselfe. (Past.Let.I,p.27)
‘for he said many times that whosoever should live at Paston, would need to be able to defend himself’
b [Present participle]
And lo! a womman aȝen cam to hym, … a chaterere, and vagaunt of reste, vnpacient, ne mowende in the hous abide stille wih hir feet (Wyclif,Prov.vii.11)
‘And look, a woman again came to him, a chatterer, one who is ever restless, impatient, and unable (lit. not maying) to stay in the house and keep her feet still’
c [Past participle]
For wel may euery man wite · if god hadde wolde hym|selue, Sholde neuere Iudas ne iuwe · haue Ihesu don on Rode (PiersPlowman(B-text)XV,258)
‘For every man may well know, if God had not wanted it himself, Judas or any other Jew would have gotten Jesus on the cross’
d [Consecutive modals]
… that our broder Reynawde be well mounted vpon bayarde, whiche shall maye bere vs all four at a nede' (Caxton,Four-Sons-of-Aymon,IX,222)
‘… [let’s do it so] that our brother Renard will be well mounted upon [the horse] Bayard, who will be able to carry all four of us if necessary’
According to Lightfoot, the simultaneous occurrence of the second round of changes provides evidence that some more fundamental change had taken place, situated at a deeper structural level of the grammar.
Unfortunately, there are quite a number of problems with Lightfoot’s story (see Plank, Reference Plank1984; Warner, Reference Warner1993; Fischer, Reference Fischer2007). Even in OE the modals showed deviant behaviour. More precisely, the modals resorted under the slightly bigger group of preterite-present verbs, including other OE verbs like witan ‘know’, durran ‘dare’, *þurfan ‘need’ or dugan ‘be good’. The group had already formed in Proto-Germanic, containing mostly verbs whose present tense had derived from Proto-Indo-European perfect forms – an unusual situation, as the Proto-Indo-European perfect was primarily the source of the Germanic strong past tense. Their ancestry explains their inflectional anomalies. Like strong past tenses, the OE preterite-present verbs had no distinct third person singular ending. They also tended to lack non-finite forms. These inflectional features already set the preterite-present verbs, including the modals, apart as a somewhat separate group of verbs in OE. Semantically, too, the preterite-present verbs had always been unusual in that they typically had stative meanings, whereas most verbs have dynamic meanings. Testimony to their status as a group is the fact that the preterite-present verbs analogically attracted new members, notably willan, and probably *motan and cunnan in Proto-Germanic times.
By treating them as ordinary verbs prior to 1600, Lightfoot’s account downplays the exceptional position the modals already had in OE. This calls at least for a reassessment of his story. On the one hand, it becomes rather doubtful whether the changes to the modals before 1600 were really accidental and independent, because the modals were already behaving more or less as a group and had always cherished un-verblike behaviour. On the other hand, the changes after 1600 were less dramatic and abrupt than Lightfoot makes them out to be. In light of their preterite-present ancestry, the non-finite forms that the modals lost had never been a very integral part of their paradigms to begin with. In fact, some of the modals (*motan, *sculan) never had any non-finite forms, and for the others most attested non-finite forms were ME innovations. That those innovations failed to catch on may well be due to the development of the semi-modals (see Section 6.1.3), most of which had and still have non-finite forms. Note here also that, contrary to what Lightfoot claims, some modals actually continued to combine with direct objects until quite late – with can until 1652, with will until 1862 according to Visser (Reference Visser1963: 557–58). All of this undermines both Lightfoot’s two-stage scenario and his claim of a radical and abrupt change.
The alternative picture that emerges is one of long-term incremental change. OE started out with a group of preterite-present verbs that were already somewhat exceptional, both formally and semantically. Some of the group’s core members had developed or were beginning to develop modal meanings, along the familiar pathways of semantic change (Traugott and Dasher, Reference Traugott and Dasher2002: 105–51). The grammaticalization process proceeded faster with some verbs than with others. *Sculan and *motan led, magan followed, cunnan and willan lagged behind (Denison, Reference Denison1993: 336). But, together, the changes redefined and reinforced the functional identity of the group, which increasingly crystallized around the marking of modal meaning. In turn, this changing group identity promoted further changes. Erstwhile members that failed to adopt modal meaning, such as durran ‘dare’ or witan ‘know’, disappeared or shifted to normal verb behaviour, while some other verbs that displayed modal-like meanings, such as need, were (half-heartedly) recruited into the group of modals. To be sure, neither the gradualness of change, nor the idiosyncrasies of the individual items involved should belie the magnitude of the overall development. Together with the rise of the auxiliaries have and be (see Sections 6.3.2 and 6.4) and of operator do (see Section 6.5), the emergence of the modals gave rise to a very distinct class of grammatical markers and at the same time established a new functional and syntactic position in the English finite clause.
6.2.3 The Semi-Modals
As if the modals were not enough, English went on to grammaticalize another set of modal auxiliaries, which are sometimes referred to as the ‘semi-modals’. The group is open-ended, but most will agree that it includes be able to, be going to, (have) got to, have to, need to and want to. The semi-modals developed not from the group of preterite-present verbs but mostly from ordinary main verbs combined with a to-infinitive. Formally, they are less distinctive than the modals, but functionally they do a very similar job expressing various shades of modal meaning. The examples in (18) illustrate two of the semi-modals – have to and want to – and some of their meanings. As is typical of modal expressions, many of the semi-modals developed complex polysemies within the modal domain.
a [Strong necessity]
Were things so bad between them that she just had to disappear? (BNC)
b [Strong certainty]
A shadow has to be cast by something (BNC)
c [Strong desire]
Look, can you give me another couple of hours? I want to try something. (BNC)
d [Weak obligation]
‘Anyway, have you any news for me?’ ‘No, nothing of importance, except I think you want to keep an eye on Billy the welder.’ (BNC)
The semi-modals form a much less clearly defined group than the modals. On the one hand, the category of semi-modals has no sharp external boundaries. That is because the semi-modals mostly developed from constructions involving more or less normal verbs. As a result, some semi-modal constructions are barely distinguishable from constructions involving main verbs, except on semantic grounds. On the other hand, the category of semi-modals is internally very heterogeneous. Partly that is because the semi-modals developed at very different times. Partly it is because they developed from syntactically diverse sources. For instance, have to developed from a combination of have with a direct object followed by an adnominal to-infinitive – a construction that at least implied modal meanings (though not necessarily of necessity) as early as OE, as shown in (19) (cf. Fischer, Reference Fischer1994a, Reference Fischer, Toupin and Lowrey2015). In contrast, want to originated as a combination of want with a to-infinitival complement clause, whose first desiderative uses date only from the eighteenth century, as in (20) (Krug, Reference Krug2000). Need to, be going to and got to derived from yet other source constructions (for more on be going to, see Section 6.2.2).
(19) hæfst ðu æceras to erigenne
‘Have you acres to plow?’ (ÆGram.135.2)
(20) Cheats mingle the Flower or Seed among the Food of those whom they want to defraud. (1751, OED)
If we also consider other candidate members of the category, such as the modal expressions illustrated in (21), internal heterogeneity only increases.
a I got to get batteries to go with it though (BNC)
b The manufacturers are bound to have sent samples to other people, not just us. (BNC)
c The hot drink was supposed to be tea but tasted awful. (BNC)
d Someone had better go down and have a word… (BNC)
e Don't cause any trouble and don't insist if they look like objecting. (BNC)
In this light, one may in fact wonder whether there really is such a thing as a category of semi-modals. Interestingly, however, some more or less consistent group identity seems to be emerging in PDE (Krug, Reference Krug2000: 238). It is striking that most semi-modals are formed with a to-infinitive. It is also striking that most have obtained phonetically reduced variants that are disyllabic and end in a schwa (sometimes with a conventionalized form in spelling, too):
| [ˈgʌnə] | gonna < be going to |
| [ˈgɒtə] | gotta < (have) got to |
| [ˈhæftə] | have to |
| [ˈwɒnə] | wanna < want to |
| [ˈniːtə] | need to |
| [ˈbetə] | had better |
| [ˈspəʊstə] | be supposed to |
This may be a coincidence or it may point to the existence of an emergent category of semi-modals. On the latter interpretation, the semi-modals, like the modals, may be caught up in a complex dynamic, involving grammaticalization at the level of individual expressions and analogical alignment to an emergent class.
6.3 Tense
Tense markers serve to situate a process in time, either with respect to the time of speaking or with respect to another process. In English, the basic distinction is between present and past tense and is marked inflectionally. In (22) the present tense form is signals that the state of affairs described by the main clause holds at the time of speaking. The past tenses grew up and inherited situate a state of affairs in a time before the time of speaking.
(22) My house – not the one I grew up in, but this one, the one I inherited from my grandmother – is a shrine to her conventional, turn-of-the-last-century taste (COCA)
The present/past distinction was inherited from Germanic and its core function has been essentially stable since OE. At the margins, however, changes have occurred.
The present and past tenses themselves have developed a few new uses that arguably have little to do with tense marking at all. The past tense took over some of the uses of the OE subjunctive, as illustrated in (23).
a Iohannes: cum to me tima is þæt ðu mid þinum gebroðrum
John: come to me time is that you with your brothers
wistfullige on minum gebeorscipe
feast[PRES.SUBJ] in my banquet (ÆCHom.I,4 214.246)
‘John, come to me, it is about time that you and your brothers attended one of my feasts’
b Mrs Edwina Currie claimed that many pensioners were well-off … ‘We are in the age of the ‘woopy’ the well-off old person and it is about time we all recognised that fact …’ (1988, OED)
Scholarship further agrees that OE had no historic present (Mitchell, Reference Mitchell1985: 241–44), so the use of a present form to describe a past situation, as in (24), must be another innovation. Its function is to render past narratives more vivid and to foreground the peak events in the narrative.
(24) And by the welle adoun she gan[PAST] hyre dresse. / Allas, Than cometh[PRES] a wilde lyonesse / Out of the wode, withoute more arest, / With blody mouth, of strangelynge of a best, /To drynken of the welle there as she sat[PAST]. (Chaucer,LGW.802–11)
‘… and she was only just kneeling down by the well. Alas, then a wild lioness comes out of the wood, without any delay, with a mouth bloody from strangling a beast, to drink from the well where she was sitting’
More importantly, English also developed a more fine-grained carving up of temporal space. Situations occurring in the future increasingly came to be marked with dedicated markers – especially the future auxiliaries will, shall and be going to. Situations occurring in the past but with relevance to the present came to be marked by the so-called perfect. Both these tense categories – the future and perfect – have links to other functional domains. Some would count future markers as modal elements, or see the perfect as an aspectual category (de Haan, Reference De Haan and Song2010). They are treated under tense here because their development in English primarily impacted the functional range of the inflectional past and present tenses. The following sections discuss the development of future auxiliaries (Section 6.2.1) and the history of the perfect (Section 6.2.2).
6.3.1 The Future
PDE has no shortage of ways to express future meaning – witness the examples in (25).
a The next guard arrives at 12.15. (BNC)
b I have to go. My mother is leaving tonight. (BNC)
c I've got some news for you. I'm about to sell the house… (BNC)
d Whatever you advise I shall do my humble best to concur. (BNC)
e Mrs Duncan will take you up to your rooms. (BNC)
f You're going to become a poet, Shih Hammond. (BNC)
The PDE examples represent a historically layered system. The simple present with future reference in (25a) – though today much more restricted in use – is an OE inheritance, as shown in (26).
(26) Ic arise of deaðe on ðæm þriddan dæge
I arise from death on the third day (ÆCHom.I,10(259.27)
‘I will rise from the dead on the third day’
The use of a present tense to express future meaning is cross-linguistically widely attested (Dahl, Reference Dahl and Dahl2000). This makes sense, because situations holding at the time of speaking often in one way or another extend into the future – or conversely, future situations are often somehow prefigured at the time of speaking. The natural link between present and future at once explains the progressive with future meaning in (25b), whose emergence was a corollary of the rise of the progressive in lModE (see Section 6.4.1). In much the same way, the about-to future in (25c) developed from a construction expressing ongoing activity, as illustrated in (27).
(27) Þat þis fend namore me dere, Lord, y praye þe! For he is abouten me to traye
‘that this Fiend may harm me no more, I pray thee Lord, for he is plotting to betray me’ (1230, Alt.Leg.323–5)
The histories of the other three future markers – shall, will and be going to – are more complex. Will and shall belong to the class of modals discussed earlier (Section 1.2) and their future meanings developed from earlier modal meanings (Traugott, Reference Traugott1989). For shall, the future meaning probably developed from deontic obligation. In (28), for instance, the decree of providence spells out a necessary future. For will, several pathways are possible. Future meanings are often implied when the verb is used to mark intention, as in (29a), but they may also have developed from generic uses, as in (29b).
(28) Ðu eart eorþe, and þu scealt eft to eorþan weorðan
You are earth and you shall again to earth become (Blickl.Hom.l.123,9)
‘Dust you are, and to dust you will return’
a Ne þearf nan man þæs wænan, þæt hyne ænig man mæge alysan fram
not ought-to no man of-that think that him-self any man can save from
helle wite gif he sylf nele his synna betan ær his ende
of-hell pain if he self not-will his sins repent before his end (HomS.6(Ass.14)49)
‘Nobody should think that anyone can save him from the pain of hell if he himself does not want to/will not repent of his sins before his death’
b ælc wyrt & ælc wudu wile weaxan on þæm lande selest þe him best gerist
each plant and each tree will grow on that land best that him best suits (Bo.34.91.13)
‘Each plant and each tree will grow best in the land that suits it best’
The division of labour between future will and shall has been something of an issue ever since seventeenth and eighteenth-century grammarians saw the need to regulate usage. It is difficult to work out to what extent their prescriptive statements shaped, followed or simply misrepresented historical reality. The careful study by Fries (Reference Fries1927) shows that the prescriptive rules were and are part fictitious. Nevertheless his evidence suggests that they were not completely off the mark. The choice between will and shall to some extent depended on the person of the subject and the illocutionary force of the utterance. There has always been variation, however, and over time will gradually supplanted shall. In PDE future shall survives only with first-person subjects, and (for some speakers) in second-person interrogatives (Huddleston and Pullum, Reference Huddleston and Pullum2002: 195).
The history of the be-going-to future is a classic of the grammaticalization literature (Hopper and Traugott, Reference Hopper and Traugott2003: 1–3, 88–89). Verbs of motion commonly develop into tense markers and so did English go. It is generally assumed that be going initially expressed purposeful motion and would combine with a to-infinitive functioning as a purpose adjunct. Later, purpose meaning was lost, what was originally an implied future sense remained as coded meaning, and the whole sequence was rebracketed as an auxiliary-verb combination. A possible problem with this account is that future meaning is already the dominant sense in the very first generally accepted example of be going to, given in (30). If be going expressed purposeful motion here, one would not expect a passive to-infinitive (cf. Hopper and Traugott, Reference Hopper and Traugott2003: 89).
(30) Thys onhappy sowle … was goyng to be broughte into helle for the synne and onleful lustys of her body (1482, Monk-of-Evesham,43)
‘This unhappy soul was going to be brought into hell for the sins and unlawful lusts of her body’
Another open question is why it was be going to that developed into a future marker and not just go to, which was more common (Visser, Reference Visser1963: 1399–1400). These little mysteries notwithstanding, the later development of be going to is consistent with the assumed shift from purposeful motion to future. Hilpert (Reference Hilpert2008: 118–22) finds evidence of the hypothesized pathway in the verbs be going to combined with. At first, these were typically verbs denoting intentional actions, such as say, fight or give, but then collocational constraints were gradually loosened as be going to developed into a pure future marker.
6.3.2 The Perfect
Along with articles, periphrastic passives and various other grammatical constructions, periphrastic perfects are a defining feature of Standard Average European. Drinka (Reference Drinka2013) shows how periphrastic perfects developed historically across a large area of Europe, which she refers to as the ‘Charlemagne Sprachbund’. Perhaps because it sits at the periphery of this Sprachbund, English followed the European trend but with some peculiarities.
In PDE the perfect is expressed by have and a past participle, as in (31a). It is generally assumed that this construction must have developed from a pattern with lexical verb have, meaning ‘possess’, a direct object and a past participle that somehow modifies the direct object – in short, something analogous to (31b).
a He has overshot the landing strip again. (BNC)
b The museum also has a section devoted to the Harlem Renaissance (Google)
Curiously, examples that match the syntax of (31b) are not readily forthcoming in OE (Mitchell, Reference Mitchell1985: 293), even though examples that look like proper perfects are already attested, as shown in (32), where have clearly cannot mean ‘possess’.
(32) Soð ic eow secge, ðæt an is mid eow þe me hæfð gesealdne.
Truth I you say that one is with you that me has sold (HomS(Schaefer)19,29)
‘I tell you truly the one that has sold me is amongst you’
In other respects, however, the behaviour of have-perfects during OE fits with the hypothesized source construction. The typical OE have-perfect had a direct object, betraying the original status of have as a transitive verb. Moreover, as the glossed endings in (32) show, the past participle would sometimes agree with the object, indicating that the object once (or still) was its syntactic head, rather than its dependent. Only by the end of OE did have-perfects begin to appear with non-accusative objects (which must be dependent on the participle), as in (33a), or even without objects altogether, as in (33b).
a bið hit swutol … Ðætte on oðre wisan sint to manienne ða ðe gefandod
Will-be it clear that in other way are to instruct those who explored
habbað ðara flæsclicra synna[GEN],
have of-the fleshly sins (CP.52.403.7)
‘It will be clear … that the ones who experienced the sins of the flesh have to be instructed in another way’
b þin folc hæfð gesyngod
‘your people have sinned’ (ÆHom.21 47)
As these examples show, the order of have, object and past participle varied in OE. The PDE word order of the have-perfect, with have immediately preceding the participle and any object following, was one of various possible orders. The PDE order was fixed only in the course of ME, bringing the have-perfect fully in line with the emergent [S Vaux Vlex O] template (see Section 6.5).
Like its continental neighbours, English not only developed a have-perfect but also a be-perfect, as in (34). Be appeared with intransitive verbs but, as (33b) shows, it always competed with have and was eventually driven into obsolescence.
(34) Þe folk þanked god echone, Þat þe dragun aweye was gone.
‘The people all thanked God that the dragon had gone away’(ME, Brunne, HC,p.58).
Another remarkable difference between English and other European languages is that the perfect actually remained a perfect – that is, a marker of past events with relevance to the present. It did not develop into a marker of pure past tense. Then again, such a change may still be on its way. Engel and Ritz (Reference Engel and Ritz2000) show perfects alternating with past tenses in colloquial Australian English story-telling. An example is (35). The function of such perfects is reminiscent of that of the historic present. The past tenses serve to set the scene, providing background, while the perfects are important for the story line, advancing the plot. Whether the pattern will spread beyond these contexts remains of course to be seen.
(35) … a guy in Mexico, he said … ‘I reckon we should go to the zoo, but we shouldn’t go there when it’s open, we should go there when it’s night time. …’ And so he’s jumped the fence with a few friends, and went over to the lion enclosure and he’s dropped his mobile phone into the lion enclosure. … Now the funny thing is … that he just jumped the fence, went into the lion enclosure to get his phone, he’s walked up to his phone and the phone has started ringing. … (Engel and Ritz, Reference Engel and Ritz2000: 134)
6.4 Voice
Voice contrasts offer different ways of assigning the central participants associated with a verbal process to the different slots of clausal syntax. It is generally assumed that the only voice contrast grammatically encoded in English is the opposition between active and passive (but see the discussion that follows below). In the active voice, the agent(-like) and patient(-like) roles of a verbal process are assigned respectively to the subject and object slots of the clause. In the passive voice, the patient(-like) role is assigned to the subject slot, while the agent(-like) role is left unexpressed or demoted to a prepositional phrase. The contrast is illustrated in (36). Of the two voice categories, passive voice is the one that is formally marked in English. Its main marker is the be-passive, consisting of the auxiliary be and a past participle, illustrated in (36b).
a [Active voice]
later a car bomb blew up his Cadillac in Caracas (Google)
b [Passive voice]
later his Cadillac was blown up by a car bomb in Caracas
In PDE, the be-passive has a close look-alike in the adjectival passive (Huddleston and Pullum, Reference Huddleston and Pullum2002: 1436). The adjectival passive combines copular be and a past participle to describe a resultant state, as in (37a). In this construction, the past participle behaves like any adjective following copular be (e.g. in allowing modification by the intensifier very). The be-passive, by contrast, is dynamic in interpretation, as in (37b). Its past participle is the actual main verb of the clause, which is most obvious when it comes with an additional argument role (as in A Victorian jug on the mantelpiece had been given him by Louise one Christmas (BNC)). Ambiguity between the two constructions is very common, as in (38).
a My emotional reserves had been depleted. … In retrospect, I was shocked, dazed, confused and not able to cope. (BNC)
b whenever the leg touched the liquid an electrical circuit was completed and the cockroach was shocked (BNC)
(38) I think he was shocked to find his new Professor of English staying in a cheap pension. (BNC)
PDE ambiguity still hints at a historical development from the adjectival passive to the be-passive. While this is plausible enough, the change had already happened by OE times – witness the dynamic interpretation in OE examples like (39).
(39) Þæt tacnade þæt on his dagum sceolde beon geboren se se þe
that showed that on his days should be born that that who
us ealle to anum mæggemote gelaþaþ
us all to one meeting summons (Or.5,14.131.9)
‘That showed that in his days the man would be born who would summon us all to one meeting’
After OE, the be-passive underwent a number of changes, notably the emergence of the indirect and prepositional passive (see Chapters 7 and 9), and its extension to infinitives (see Chapter 9). But it is fair to say that a proper periphrastic passive was in place already in OE (cf. Denison, Reference Denison1993: 416–23; Warner, Reference Warner1993: ch.5).
Two other passive auxiliaries are worth mentioning here, the first of which is notable for its disappearance. OE could mark passive voice using weorðan, as in (40). Testifying to the link between passive auxiliaries and copulas, weorðan was also used as a copula in OE, meaning ‘become’.
(40) Heo hine freclice bat. Đa wearð heo sona fram deofle gegripen
She him heavily beat then got she suddenly from devil seized (GD.1(C)(4.31.1))
‘She beat him heavily. Then she was/got suddenly seized by the devil’
The cognates of weorðan developed into the exclusive markers of dynamic passives in Dutch and German. Not so in English, however, where weorðan, despite a promising start, simply disappeared. Explanations of this curious disappearance have invoked Scandinavian influence, phonotactic anomaly and competition with the be-passive. Petré (Reference Petré2014: 25–38) reviews the various accounts and proposes a radical alternative. He argues that weorðan was closely associated with verb-second syntax (see Chapter 9). The typical use of weorðan was in a past tense main clause with initial time adverbial and inverted verb and subject (cf. (26)). When verb-second declined, weorðan was largely lost with it (Petré, Reference Petré2014: 157–59), after which, its uses outside verb-second contexts dwindled and succumbed to competition with other constructions.
The other auxiliary is get, which developed into a marker of passive voice in lModE. Because the development is recent, we can this time actually trace the various steps of change. In light of the preceding discussion, it is unsurprising that a copular use was involved, but the whole development, starting from the transitive verb get ‘obtain’ was considerably more complex – so much so that Gronemeyer (Reference Gronemeyer1999) describes it as a case of ‘polygrammaticalization’. The various constructions that are likely to have contributed to the PDE passive use are illustrated in (41a–d). The actual passive auxiliary get is illustrated in (41e).
a [Intransitive motion verb]
Many … [were] apprehended before they could get to the castel. (1548, OED)
How to get cleere of all the debts I owe. (1599, OED)
c [Copular verb with past participle]
A certain Spanish pretending Alchymist … got acquainted with foure rich Spanish Merchants. (1652, OED)
d [Causative verb with past participle]
The first thyng that he ought to doo, is to get described, and payncted oute all the countrie. (1562, OED)
‘… to get all the country described and painted out’
e [Passive auxiliary]
I got supplied with bread, cheese and a pint of wine. (1814, OED)
Note that the get-passive sometimes differs from the be-passive in that its subject unites agent and patient-like qualities, as in (42).
(42) for Christ's sake let's get married and turn on the telly and have some peace. (BNC)
Indeed, Mitkovska and Bužarovska (Reference Mitkovska and Bužarovska2012) argue that the get-passive not only covers the functional domain of passive voice but also that of middle voice, encoding ‘intentional activities of a human subject referent that affect the same referent’ (Reference Mitkovska and Bužarovska2012: 204). In that light, the get-passive (if the term is still appropriate) filled an open niche in the English voice system.
6.5 Aspect
Of the four functional categories of mood, tense, voice and aspect, it is aspect that most closely interacts with a verb’s lexical semantics. Any verb denotes a process that unfolds over time. What an aspectual marker does is highlight one or other phase of that process (Croft, Reference Croft2012: 53–56). The main aspectual marker in the PDE VP is the ‘progressive’, which presents a process as a temporary state, usually by defocusing its begin and end point so that it comes to be seen as ‘ongoing’, as in (43). The progressive is a distinctively English feature. Its use in PDE is more extensive and more systematic than the use of semantically similar constructions in the other Germanic languages.
(43) Wider and wider, the dragon was opening its mouth. (BNC)
Another distinctively English feature is the existence of an array of verb particles such as up, out, on or about. Although their use is limited to specific verbs and often conveys additional lexical meanings, verb particles, too, have been argued to manipulate the aspectual profile of the verbs they accompany (Brinton and Traugott, Reference Brinton and Traugott2005). Up in (44), for instance, specifies the process of drinking as being ‘telic’ – that is, it signals the existence of a natural end point. Its aspectual function is mixed up with lexical meaning, however. In the case of drink up, up equates the natural end point with an emptied glass, cup, bottle, or the like.
(44) So I'll be obliged if you two gents would drink up and leave. (BNC)
The following two subsections discuss the emergence of the progressive and the history of verb particle constructions.
6.5.1 The Progressive
There are two chief constructions from which the progressive may have developed. One is the combination of beon/wesan ‘be’ and a present participle, as in (45). This construction, which is attested with remarkable frequency in some OE texts, syntactically resembles the PDE progressive. The OE construction itself may have emerged as a blend between three different syntactic structures: adjectival participles, as in (46a), adverbial participle clauses, as in (46b), and the now-obsolete use of the present participle as an agentive noun, as in (46c) (Nickel, Reference Nickel1967: 271–72).
(45) þa ic wæs Dryhten byddende æt neorxnawanges geate, þa
when I was Lord praying at of-paradise gate then
ætywde me Michael se heahengel
revealed me Michael the archangel. (Nic(A)19.1.7)
‘When I was praying to the Lord at the gate of paradise, Michael the archangel revealed himself to me’
a Næs him cild gemæne: for þan ðe elisabeð wæs untymende
not-was them child in-common because Elizabeth was unteeming (ÆCHom.I,25 379.7)
‘They did not have a child together because Elizabeth was barren’
b Þa wæron hydras on ðam earde waciende ofer heora eowde
then were shepherds in that region waking over their flock (ÆCHom.I,2 190.21)
‘There were shepherds then in that region watching their flock’
c Ne beswice eower nan oðerne on cypinge, forþon God his bið wrecend.
Not deceive of-you none other in trading, because God of-it will-be avenger (ThCap.1(Sauer)35.373.8)
‘No one of you should deceive another in business because God will avenge it’
The other putative source of the progressive is the combination of be with in or on followed by a gerund, as in (47). This second construction is marginally attested in OE but more common in ME. If it is to be a source of the PDE progressive, the construction must have somehow lost its preposition. That may have happened through phonetic reduction, as is suggested by the existence of what looks like an intermediary stage, with an a- prefixed to the -ing-form, as in (48).
(47) The kynge is gone on huntynge, certayne
‘The king has gone out hunting, for certain’ (Beves-of-Hamtoun,2051)
(48) John Cheynye is owt a hawkyng, as sone as he comyth home I shall delyver yowr letter
‘John Cheynye is out hawking, as soon as he comes home I will deliver your letter’
(Stonor-Lett.287)
It is impossible – and probably pointless – to try to restrict the progressive’s ancestry to either one of these constructions. More likely, both contributed to its development (Kranich, Reference Kranich2010: 78–79). Importantly, however, in function neither the participial construction in (45) nor the gerundial construction in (47) behaved exactly like the PDE progressive. The OE participial construction, while sometimes allowing translation with a progressive (cf. (45)), often occurred in contexts where PDE would not use the progressive at all. For example, Killie (Reference Killie2008: 80) finds that it would sometimes have bounded meaning, viewing an event ‘as a whole’ and being used to rhetorical effect, to ‘mark peaks in a narrative’, as in (49).
(49) Her cuom micel sciphere on Westwalas, & hie to anum
In this year came great ship-army into West-Wales and they
gecierdon & wiþ Ecgbryht West seaxna cyning winnende wæron
turned and with Ecgbryht West Saxon king fighting were (ChronA(Bately)835.1)
‘In this year a large (Viking) army arrived in western Wales and they turned to each and every one and fought with Egbert, the West-Saxon king’
The gerundial construction, by contrast, usually allowed translation by a PDE progressive but was largely restricted to ‘absentive’ contexts. It was used to say that someone is absent while engaged in some activity, typically an out-door one like hunting or fishing, as in (47)–(48).
Exactly when the progressive emerged as we know it today, in form as well as in function, is hard to tell. Petré (Reference Petré2015) shows that the crucial semantic change started in ME. At the beginning of the ME period, he finds, the progressive was usually fully stative. Its typical use at the time is illustrated in (50a), where it ascribes a stable quality to a non-agentive subject. In the course of the period, the progressive came to be increasingly used to present a situation as ongoing. Often it would appear in a subordinate clause to ‘frame’ the foregrounded event in the main clause, as in (50b). By the beginning of eModE, marking ongoingness had become the construction’s dominant function – as it still is today.
a Now I wryte a sang of lufe, þat þou sal delyte in when þow ert lufand Jhesu Criste
‘Now I write a song of love, that you will delight in if you love Jesus Christ’(Rolle, Ego-Dormio,p.60)
b Reynawde slewe the neuewe of kynge Charlemayne wyth a ches borde, as they were playnge togyder at the chesses
‘Reynard killed the nephew of king Charlemagne with a chess board as they were playing chess’ (S.ofAymon,ch.2)
But that is not the end of it. Throughout eModE and much of lModE, the progressive still failed to be used in contexts where it is obligatory today. Consider the examples from Shakespeare in (51), or the lModE examples in (52), which Denison (Reference Denison and Romaine1998: 143) judges ‘odd to my ears’. Such examples suggest a process of gradual obligatorification that continued well into the nineteenth century.
a Why how now Captaine? what do you in this wise Company. (Tim. of Ath.II,1)
b Por. Is Caesar yet gone to the Capitoll?—Sooth. Madam not yet, I go to take my stand, To see him passe on to the Capitoll (Jul.Caesar, II,2)
a Now I will return to Fanny – it rains (1818, Denison Reference Denison and Romaine1998: 143)
b How is Mr. Evelyn? How does he bear up against so sudden a reverse? (1840, ibid.)
Moreover, it was only in LModE that the progressive developed a formally marked passive, as in (53). Arguably, before that time, the progressive had not been fully integrated into the verbal paradigm of English.
(53) I scream as if I was being killed (1783, CLMET3.0)
Much as we saw in other changes, then, the development of the progressive has been a protracted affair, with neither an obvious starting point nor a clear point of completion.
What is remarkable, however, is that the English progressive has been so much more successful than semantically similar constructions in other Germanic languages. One wonders whether this might have some deeper system-internal cause. In other constructions, too, English is fond of construing processes as backgrounded states, often using verbal -ing-forms – for instance in absolute constructions (van de Pol and Petré, Reference Van de Pol and Petré2015: 220–23) or premodifying participles (De Smet and Vancaeyzele, Reference De Smet and Vancaeyzele2014: 152). Los (Reference Los2012: 41–42) suggests that this typifies English as an unbounded language, as opposed to its West Germanic sister languages. She goes on to raise the intriguing possibility that the unbounded character of PDE is a consequence of the loss of verb-second (see Chapter 9).
6.5.2 Verb Particles
OE had a large set of verbal prefixes. Deriving from Proto-Indo-European preverbs, these prefixes had grammaticalized into unstressed bound elements by the time they appeared in OE. This means they attached directly to the verbal stem and could not be separated from it. The meanings of the prefixes had been spatial in origin, but many had developed additional functions, mostly related to aspect. For example, the prefix þurh- clearly has a spatial meaning in þurhcreopan ‘creep through’ or þurhfleon ‘fly through’. But in verbs like þurhetan ‘eat through, eat out’ or þurhgeotan ‘pour over, fill, saturate’ it allows both a spatial and aspectual reading. In a verb like þurhlæran ‘persuade, lit. teach-through’ no spatial meaning is left – here, þurh- simply marks completeness or thoroughness (Brinton, Reference Brinton1988: 205). Some other common prefixes were a-, for-, forð-, ge-, of-, to- and ymb-. Of these, some still occurred in OE with predominantly spatial meanings, such as ymb- ‘around’ in ymbcirran ‘revolve round’ or ymbgurdan ‘gird about’, whereas others had highly abstract meanings, most notably the elusive ge- prefix, which among other things had grammaticalized into a marker of past participles in OE.
Most verbal prefixes appear to have been already on the decline in the OE period, and many disappeared almost completely after ME. The causes of their decline are undoubtedly complex – Brinton (Reference Brinton1988: 189) lists as many as eight factors from the literature, including Scandinavian influence, word-order change, advanced semantic bleaching, phonetic reduction in unstressed syllables and the ‘general analytic tendency of English’. Whether it was as another cause or as a consequence or both, the rise of verb particles was likely bound up in the process, too (see also Chapter 7).
Some of the English verb particles derive from the same Proto-Indo-European preverbs as the prefixes. They differ from the prefixes, however, in being free morphemes, separable from the verbal stem, and in being stressed elements. According to van Kemenade and Los (Reference Van Kemenade, Los, Booij and van Marle2003), they functioned as secondary predicates. Thus, in (54) forð is separated from the verbal stem by an intervening negative element ne, showing that forð is not a prefix here. It is positioned where an OE secondary predicate is expected to be positioned (preceding the verb in a finite subordinate clause, cf. Chapter 9), and it transparently denotes a resultant state of the verbal process. Some other common OE particles were (a)dun ‘down’, of ‘off’, onweg ‘away’, up ‘up’ and ut ‘out’.
(54) forðæm hio nanne swetne wæsðm forð ne bringð
because she no sweet fruit forth not brings (CP.45.341.22)
‘because it does not produce any sweet fruit’
Co-occurrence of prefixes and particles suggests that the particles were sometimes used to reinforce the bleached meanings of the prefixes, as in (55), where the particle of ‘away’ reinforces the prefix a- ‘away, out’.
(55) On naman þæs ælmihtigan Godes ic þe ofslea & þe þine teþ of
In name of-the almighty God I you hit and you your teeth away
abeate
down-beat (Med.1.1(deVriend)1.2)
‘In the name of the almighty God, I will strike you down and knock out your teeth’
Even so, the particles started going down the same path as the OE prefixes: they began to develop aspectual overtones. The particular semantic changes involved still constitute an underresearched area in the history of English, but at least for up a detailed picture is available from Denison (Reference Denison1985b). Compare up in (56a), where its meaning is spatial, to its use in (56b), where it highlights the telicity of the verbal process. Some examples of other particles with aspectually-laden meanings are given in (57).
a Þa ahof Paulus up his heafod.
‘Then Paulus raised up his head’ (LS.32(Peter&Paul)303)
b The grace of humanyte is not dreyed vp in the.
‘The grace of humanity has not dried up in you.’ (1484, OED)
a You will hardly be quite at rest till you have talked yourself out to some friend (1764, OED)
b The surest way to try the merit of any disputed notion is, to trace down the consequences such a notion has produced (1759–67, CLMET3.0)
c Laughter, he read and believed, was a sign of good moral health, and he laughed on contentedly, till Lilia's marriage toppled contentment down for ever. (1905, CLMET3.0)
The result is a subsidiary aspectual system, with a broad range of markers, each of which interacts in specific ways with the lexical semantics of the verbal stems it combines with.
6.6 The Verb Do
As a lexical verb, PDE do is a highly general activity verb, roughly meaning ‘perform, act’. This is a function do already had in OE, as shown in (58).
(58) Ða dyde Eadric ealdorman swa he oft ær dyde
Then did Eadric alderman as he often before did … (ChronF(Baker)1016.24)
‘Then prince Eadric did, as he had often done before, …’
There is nothing unusual about general activity verbs grammaticalizing. Among other things, they are particularly prone to becoming causative markers, emphatic elements or pro-verbs (Heine and Kuteva, Reference Heine and Kuteva2002: 117–20) – indeed, all of these are functions that English do fulfilled at some point or other. But what do does in Standard PDE is, both from a Germanic and from a typological perspective, more remarkable (Van der Auwera, Reference Van der Auwera1999: 461–62).
PDE do is obligatory in negative and interrogative clauses when there is no other auxiliary present. In such cases do appears to be an empty ‘operator’, simply required by the syntax of the negative or interrogative clause. The PDE system is illustrated by the examples in Table 6.1. Essentially, do does in clauses without another auxiliary what the auxiliary does in clauses with one: in negative clauses it carries the negator not and in interrogative clauses it inverts with the subject.
In contrast, the system inherited from Germanic did not require do in negative or interrogative clauses without other auxiliary. As shown in (59), the lexical verb itself would carry the negator and would invert with the subject.
a whanne þou wenest not I schal reproue þe
‘When you do not believe me, I shall reprove you’ (Wyclif, Aug.Ch.XX)
b hwerof chalengest þu me.
‘What do you accuse me of?’ (Anc.Riwle,1,II.44.403)
Do started grammaticalizing into an operator during the ME period. Input to this process may have come from various source constructions. The most promising candidate is probably the causative use of do, as in (60a). Most OE and ME causative verbs, notably hatan and lætan, could leave the subject of the infinitive unexpressed. This use is attested for do as well, as shown in (60b). However, while this brought causative do syntactically very close to the later operator, its use with a subjectless infinitive was very uncommon (Denison, Reference Denison1993: 257–58).
a and deþ hi sittan, and he gæþ sylf and hym þenað.
and does them sit, and he goes self and them serves (ÆHom.26.1 8)
‘and (he) makes them sit down, and goes himself and serves them’
b Đis hali mihte ðe dieð ilieuen ðat…
this holy virtue that causes believe that… (Vices&Virtues, p.27)
‘This holy virtue which causes one to believe that …’
Another construction that may have played some role in the development of operator do is the resumptive pro-verb use, as in (61). While the causative was syntactically closer to the later operator construction, the pro-verb uses resembled the operator semantically, in being practically empty of lexical content.
(61) and hit þær forbærnð þæt mancyn, swa hit her ær dyde.
and it there burns-up that mankind as it here before did (HomU.35.1(Nap 43)9)
‘and it will burn those people to death, as it has done here before’
The question of the sources of operator do is further complicated by the possibility of Celtic influence. A balanced appraisal of the evidence is given by van der Auwera and Genee (Reference Van der Auwera and Genee2002), who conclude that the contact hypothesis is equally hard to prove as to disprove.
Whatever its sources may have been, there is another riddle to the history of operator do that has puzzled commentators. The first examples did not function like today’s operator. Ellegård (Reference Ellegård1953: 56) reports the first operator-like uses of do in the thirteenth century, but they occurred in declarative clauses, as in (62). The first examples in negative and interrogative clauses – which is where do prevails today – only appeared in the late fourteenth century.
(62) Ȝif þe Devȝ is … a-doneward i-falle al-so And þare come[SUBJ] a þicke myst, and a cold forst þer-to; þanne freost þe þicke Myst … And þarof comez þe Rym-forst, ase þilke Mist deth fleo.
‘If the dew has thus fallen down and [if] a thick mist comes, and also a deep frost, then the thick mist will freeze up … and from that the rime arises as that same mist does disappear’ (S.Engl.Leg.617–21)
It therefore looks like the operator must have had a somewhat different function in early ME than in PDE. What that function was, however, remains uncertain. The explanation that first comes to mind is that do might have been an emphatic marker. But in light of the actually attested examples, such as (44), that is not very plausible. For one thing, in metrical verse do is typically found in unstressed positions (Ellegård, Reference Ellegård1953: 121). Probably, Denison’s, (Reference Denison1993: 281) suggestion that do for a while expressed perfective meaning is more consistent with the evidence.
The following stage in the history of do is marked by major frequency increases. As Ellegård (Reference Ellegård1953: 162) demonstrates, the increases mainly occurred in negative and interrogative contexts, so that from late ME onwards these were the contexts do began to be increasingly associated with. The association was further cemented in eModE, when the use of do in declarative clauses began to steadily decline. Clearly, these are the developments that eventually led to the PDE system. The interesting question is what caused them.
In at least one respect, the rise and redistribution of do makes good sense. Denison (Reference Denison1993: 467–68) observes that in ME texts, the majority of negative and interrogative clauses had an auxiliary – be it be, have or one of the modals. It follows that the rise of do systematized an existing statistical trend that already distinguished negatives and interrogatives from declaratives. Moreover, do also made the system of negative and interrogative clauses more internally uniform, by extending the dominant pattern to all negative and interrogative clauses (cf. Table 6.1). Perhaps this explains why the system of negative and interrogative clauses was reorganized in this particular way. That said, it probably does not explain why the system needed reorganizing in the first place. Although interpretations vary in their technical details, most accounts agree that the changes to do starting in ME must have been additionally triggered by the changes in English word order taking place around the same time (e.g. Kroch, Reference Kroch1989; Warner, Reference Warner1993: 226–34).
To get an impression of the factors involved, first consider do in interrogatives.
Verb-subject order had been common in English both in declarative and in interrogative clauses, until the loss of verb-second caused a massive decline in the incidence of verb-subject order in declaratives
(cf. Chapter 9). As the dominant order became subject-verb, inversion in interrogatives turned into an isolated exception. Also, it became more and more unusual for a verb to be separated from its object by an intervening subject. Against this background, do may have served to bring interrogatives back in line with an increasingly strict
SVO grammar. Schematically, the change was as follows:

Its effects were twofold. On the one hand, do allowed inversion to mark a clause as interrogative, without having the subject follow the lexical verb. On the other, do still allowed the object to be positioned immediately following the lexical verb. One piece of evidence supporting this explanation is that interrogatives with a direct object were quicker to adopt operator do than interrogatives without (Ellegård, Reference Ellegård1953: 203).
As to negatives, the crucial change may have had to do with adverb placement. In the course of ME, the position between the subject and verb became a favoured position for adverbs,
particularly so for light adverbs expressing modality or degree, like never, hardly or almost (cf.
Quirk et al., Reference Quirk, Greenbaum, Leech and Svartvik1985: 493, for PDE). The negative
adverb not naturally belonged to this class but had of old resisted positioning between the subject and verb, especially in
main clauses (
Haeberli and
Ingham, Reference Haeberli and Ingham2007, give figures for early ME). It is conceivable that do was again exploited to solve this tension between opposing tendencies. Schematically, this is what happened:
In other words, the change put not where it liked to be (i.e. following a finite verb), but at the same time manoeuvred it into the favoured position for light adverbs (i.e. before the lexical verb). One observation to back this interpretation is that, for a while, do did the same thing for other adverbs that resisted positioning between
subject and verb (Ellegård, Reference Ellegård1953: 186).
To what extent the history of operator do can be explained only in system-internal terms is an open issue (Stein, Reference Stein1990). Even so, there is a certain compelling logic to the interactions between word-order change and the rise of do. Moreover, there can be no doubt that the rise of do had a profound impact on the grammar of the English VP. It constituted the final rift between lexical verbs and auxiliaries as two distinct grammatical classes. It also further consolidated the division of labour within the VP, with most functional categories being encoded by auxiliaries preceding the lexical verb.
6.7 Concluding Remarks
From OE to PDE, the English verb phrase underwent a complete makeover. Remarkably, however, most of what happened over this long stretch of time followed the same basic recipe. One after another, biclausal constructions with a finite verb (be, have, will, do, etc.) or a verbal complex (be going, have got, etc.) and a non-finite form (a participle, gerund or infinitive) fused into monoclausal structures, with the original finite form developing into a grammatical modifier to the lexical verbal head. The result is an accumulation of relatively similar structures. In a way, it is surprising that English should have chosen the same path again and again, especially as alternative grammaticalization paths are well-known from other languages. For instance, the potential of verb particles for marking grammatical meanings seems – in comparison – underexploited (see Section 6.5.2). Similarly, English has paratactic structures as in (63) but contrary to what happened in other languages, these do not or scarcely develop grammatical uses.
(63) Yes, you can sit and peel the potatoes. (BNC)
No doubt, more than one explanation is conceivable here, but it is perhaps not implausible that once a certain structural path has been taken, this constrains possible future developments. Different linguistic theories will express this idea in different ways (cf. Chapter 3). In a constructionist or usage-based approach, the phenomenon can be interpreted as a manifestation of analogy, with changes being more likely if they result in structures that resemble already existing patterns in the language.