Book: The Orations of Marcus Tullius Cicero, Volume 4
C >>
Cicero >> The Orations of Marcus Tullius Cicero, Volume 4
Pages:
1 |
2 |
3 |
4 |
5 |
6 |
7 |
8 |
9 |
10 |
11 |
12 |
13 |
14 |
15 |
16 |
17 |
18 |
19 |
20 |
21 |
22 |
23 |
24 |
25 |
26 |
27 |
28 |
29 |
30 |
31 |
32 |
33 |
34 |
35 |
36 |
37 |
38 |
39 |
40 | 41 |
42 |
43 |
44 |
45 |
46 |
47 |
48 |
49
Here is the dichoreus;--for it does not signify whether the last
syllable is long or short. Then comes,
"Patris dictum sapiens, temeritas filii comprobavit."
And this last dichoreus excited such an outcry as to be quite
marvellous. I ask, was it not the rhythm which caused it? Change the
order of the words; let them stand thus:
"Comprobavit filii temeritas:"
there will be no harm in that, though _temeritas_ consists of three
short syllables and one long one; which Aristotle considers as the
best sort of word to end a sentence, in which I do not agree with him.
But still the words are the same, and the meaning is the same. That is
enough for the mind, but not enough for the ears. But this ought not
to be done too often. For at first rhythm is acknowledged; presently
it wearies; afterwards, when the ease with which it is produced is
known, it is despised.
LXIV. But there are many little clauses which sound rhythmically and
agreeably. For there is the cretic, which consists of a long syllable,
then a short one, then a long; and there is its equivalent the paeon;
which is equal in time, but longer by one syllable; and which is
considered a very convenient foot to be used in prose, as it is of two
kinds. For it consists either of one long syllable and three short
ones, which rhythm is admirable at the beginning of a sentence, but
languid at the end; or of three short syllables and then the long one,
which the ancients consider the most musical foot of the two: I do not
object to it; though there are other feet which I prefer. Even the
spondee is not utterly to be repudiated; although, because it consists
of two long syllables, it appears somewhat dull and slow; still it
has a certain steady march not devoid of dignity; but much more is it
valuable in short clauses and periods; for then it makes up for the
fewness of the feet by its dignified slowness. But when I am speaking
of these feet as occurring in clauses, I do not speak of the one
foot which occurs at the end; I add (which however is not of much
consequence) the preceding foot, and very often even the foot before
that. Even the iambic, which consists of one short and one long
syllable; or that foot which is equal to the choreus, having three
short syllables, being therefore equal in time though not in the
number of syllables; or the dactyl, which consists of one long and two
short syllables, if it is next to the last foot, joins that foot very
trippingly, if it is a choreus or a spondee. For it never makes any
difference which of these two is the last foot of a sentence. But
these same three feet end a sentence very badly if one of them is
placed at the end, unless the dactyl comes at the end instead of a
cretic; for it does not signify whether the dactyl or the cretic comes
at the end, because it does not signify even in verse whether the last
syllable of all is long or short. Wherefore, whoever said that that
paeon was more suitable in which the last syllable was long, made a
great mistake; since it has nothing to do with the matter whether the
last syllable is long or not. And indeed the paeon, as having more
syllables than three, is considered by some people as a rhythm, and
not a foot at all. It is, as is agreed upon by all the ancients,
Aristotle, Theophrastus, Theodectes, and Ephorus, the most suitable
of all for an oration, either at the beginning or in the middle; they
think that it is very suitable for it at the end also; in which place
the cretic appears to me to be better. But a dochmiac consists of
five syllables, one short, two long, one short, and one long; as
thus:--_[)A]m[=i]c[=o]s t[)e]n[=e]s_; and is suitable for any part
of the speech, as long as it is used only once. If repeated or often
renewed it then makes the rhythm conspicuous and too remarkable. If
we use these changes, numerous and varied as they are, it will not be
seen how much of our rhythm is the result of study, and we shall avoid
wearying our hearers.
LXV. And because it is not only rhythm which makes a speech
rhythmical, but since that effect is produced also by the arrangement
of the words, and by a kind of neatness, as has been said before, it
may be understood by the arrangement when words are so placed that
rhythm does not appear to have been purposely aimed at, but to have
resulted naturally, as it is said by Crassus:--
"Nam ubi libido dominatur innocentiae leve praesidium est."
For here the order of the words produces rhythm without any apparent
design on the part of the orator. Therefore, the suitable and
rhythmical sentences which occur in the works of the ancients, I mean
Herodotus, and Thucydides, and all the writers of that age, were
produced, not by any deliberate pursuit of rhythm, but by the
arrangement of the words. For there are some forms of oratory in which
there is so much neatness, that rhythm unavoidably follows. For when
like is referred to like, or contrary opposed to contrary, or when
words which sound alike are compared to other words, whatever sentence
is wound up in that manner must usually sound rhythmically. And of
this kind of sentence we have already spoken and given instances, so
that this abundance of kinds enables a man to avoid always ending a
sentence in the same manner.
Nor are these rules so strict and precise that we are unable to relax
them when we wish to. It makes a great difference whether an oration
is rhythmical--that is to say, like rhythm--or whether it consists of
nothing but rhythm. If it is the latter, that is an intolerable fault;
if it is not the former, then it is unconnected, and barbarous, and
languid.
LXVI. But since it is not only not a frequent occurrence, but actually
even a rare one, that we ought to speak in compressed and rhythmical
periods, in serious or forensic causes, it appears to follow that we
ought to consider what these clauses and short members which I have
spoken of are. For in serious causes they occupy the greater part of
the speech. For a full and perfect period consists of four divisions,
which we call members, so as to fill the ears, and not be either
shorter or longer than is just sufficient. Although each of those
defects does happen sometimes, or indeed often, so that it is
necessary either to stop abruptly, or else to proceed further, lest
our brevity should appear to have cheated the ears of our hearers, or
our prolixity to have exhausted them. But I prefer a middle course;
for I am not speaking of verse, and oratory is not so much confined. A
full period, then, consists of four divisions, like hexameter verses.
In each of these verses, then, there are visible the links, as it
were, of the connected series which we unite in the conclusion. But if
we choose to speak in a succession of short clauses, we stop, and when
it is necessary, we easily and frequently separate ourselves from that
sort of march which is apt to excite dislike; but nothing ought to
be so rhythmical as this, which is the least visible and the most
efficacious. Of this kind is that sentence which was spoken by
Crassus:--
"Missos faciant patronos; ipsi prodeant."
If he had not paused before "ipsi prodeant," he would have at once
seen that an iambic had escaped him,--"prodeant ipsi" would sound in
every respect better. But at present I am speaking of the whole kind.
"Cur clandestinis consiliis nos oppugnant?
Cur de perfugis nostris copias comparant inter nos?"
The first two are such sentences as the Greeks call [Greek: kommata],
and we "incisa." The third is such as they term [Greek: kolon], and we
"membrum." Then comes a short clause; for a perfect conclusion is made
up of two verses, that is to say members, and falls into spondees. And
Crassus was very much in the habit of employing this termination, and
I myself have a good opinion of this style of speaking.
LXVII. But those sentiments which are delivered in short clauses, or
members, ought to sound very harmoniously, as in a speech of mine you
will find:--
"Domus tibi deerat? at habebas. Pecunia superabat? at egebas."
These four clauses are as concise as can be; but then come the two
following sentences uttered in members:--
"Incurristi amens in columnas: in alienos insanus insanisti."
After these clauses everything is sustained by a longer class of
sentences, as if they were erected on these as their pedestal:--
"Depressam, caecam, jacentem domum pluris, quam te, et quam fortunas
tuas, aestimasti."
It is ended with a dichoreus; but the next sentence terminates with a
double spondee. For in those feet which speakers should use at times
like little daggers, the very brevity makes the feet more free. For we
often must use them separately, often two together, and a part of a
foot may be added to each foot, but not often in combinations of
more than three. But an oration when delivered in brief clauses and
members, is very forcible in serious causes, especially when you
are accusing or refuting an accusation, as in my second Cornelian
speech:--
"O callidos homines! O rem excogitatam! O ingenia metuenda!"
Hitherto this is spoken in members. After that we spoke in short
clauses. Then again in members:--
"Testes dare volumus."
At last comes the conclusion, but one made up of two members, than
which nothing can be more concise:--
"Quem, quaeso, nostrum fefellit, ita vos esse facturos?"
Nor is there any style of speaking more lively or more forcible than
that which strikes with two or three words, sometimes with single
words; very seldom with more than two or three, and among these
various clauses there is occasionally inserted a rhythmical period.
And Hegesias, who perversely avoided this usage, while seeking to
imitate Lysias, who is almost a second Demosthenes, dividing his
sentences into little bits, was more like a dancer than an orator. And
he, indeed, errs not less in his sentences than in his single words,
so that a man who knows him has no need to look about for some
one whom he may call foolish. But I have cited those sentences of
Crassus's and my own, in order that whoever chose might judge by his
own ears what was rhythmical even in the most insignificant portions
of a speech. And since we have said more about rhythmical oratory
than any one of those who have preceded us, we will now speak of the
usefulness of that style.
LXVIII. For speaking beautifully and like an orator is, O Brutus,
nothing else (as you, indeed, know better than any one) except
speaking with the most excellent sentiments and in the most carefully
selected language. And there is no sentiment which produces any fruit
to an orator, unless it is expressed in a suitable and polished
manner. Nor is there any brilliancy of words visible unless they
are carefully arranged; and rhythm it is which sets off both these
excellences. But rhythm (for it is well to repeat this frequently) is
not only not formed in a poetical manner, but even avoids poetry, and
is as unlike it as possible. Not but that rhythm is the same thing,
not only in the writings of orators and poets, but even in the
conversation of every one who speaks, and in every imaginable sound
which we can measure with our ears. But it is the order of the feet
which makes that which is uttered appear like an oration or like
a poem. And this, whether you choose to call it composition, or
perfection, or rhythm, must be employed if a man wishes to speak
elegantly, not only (as Aristotle and Theophrastus say) that the
discourse may not run on interminably like a river, but that it may
come to a stop as it ought, not because the speaker wants to take
breath, or because the copyist puts down a stop, but because it is
compelled to do so by the restrictions of rhythm, and also because a
compact style has much greater force than a loose one. For as we see
athletes, and in a similar manner gladiators, act cautiously, neither
avoiding nor aiming at anything with too much vehemence, (for
over-vehement motions can have no rule;) so that whatever they do in
a manner advantageous for their contest, may also have a graceful and
pleasing appearance; in like manner oratory does not strike a heavy
blow, unless the aim was a well-directed one; nor does it avoid the
attack of the adversary successfully, unless even when turning aside
the blow it is aware of what is becoming. And therefore the speeches
of those men who do not end their sentences rhythmically seem to me
like the motions of those whom the Greeks call [hapalaistrous]. And it
is so far from being the case, (as those men say who, either from a
want of proper instructors, or from the slowness of their intellect,
or from an unwillingness to exert due industry, have not arrived at
this skill,) that oratory is enervated by too much attention to the
arrangement of words, that without it there can be no energy and no
force.
LXIX. But the matter is one which requires much practice, lest we
should do anything like those men who, though they have aimed at this
style, have not attained it; so that we must not openly transpose our
words in order to make our language sound better; a thing which Lucius
Coelius Antipater, in the opening of his history of the Punic War,
promises not to do unless it should be absolutely necessary. Oh the
simple man! to conceal nothing from us; and at the same time wise,
inasmuch as he is prepared to comply with necessity. But still this is
being too simple. But in writing or in sober discussion the excuse of
necessity is not admissible, for there is no such thing as necessity;
and if there were, it would still be necessary not to admit it. And
this very man who demands this indulgence of Laelius, to whom he is
writing, and to whom he is excusing himself, uses this transposition
of words, and yet does not fill up and conclude his sentences any the
more skilfully. Among others, and especially among the Asiatics, who
are perfect slaves to rhythm, you may find many superfluous words
inserted, as if on purpose to fill up vacancies in rhythm. There
are men also, who through that fault, which originated chiefly with
Hegesias, by breaking up abruptly, and cutting short their rhythm,
have fallen into an abject style of speaking, very much like that of
the Sicilians. There is a third kind adopted by those brothers, the
chiefs of the Asiatic rhetoricians, Hierocles and Maecles, men who are
not at all to be despised, in my opinion at least. For although they
do not quite keep to the real form of oratory and to the principles
of the Attic orators, still they make amends for this fault by their
ability and fluency. Still there was no variety in them, because
nearly all their sentences were terminated in one manner.
But a man who avoids all these faults, so as neither to transpose
words in such a manner that every one must see that it is done on
purpose, nor cramming in unnecessary words, as if to fill up leaks,
nor aiming at petty rhythm, so as to mutilate and emasculate his
sentences, and who does not always stick to one kind of rhythm without
any variation, such a man avoids nearly every fault. For we have said
a good deal on the subject of perfections, to which these manifest
defects are contrary.
LXX. But how important a thing it is to speak harmoniously, you may
know by experience if you dissolve the carefully-contrived arrangement
of a skilful orator by a transposition of his words; for then the
whole thing would be spoilt, as in this instance of our language in
the Cornelian oration, and in all the following sentences:--
"Neque me divitiae movent, quibus omnes Africanos et Laelios milt,
venalitii mercatoresque superarunt."
Change the order a little, so that the sentence shall stand,
"Multi superarunt mercatores venalitiique,"
and the whole effect is lost. And the subsequent sentences:
"Neque vestis, ant caelatum aurum et argentum, quo nostros veteres
Marcellos Maximosque multi eunuchi e Syria aegyptoque vicerunt."
Alter the order of the words, so that they shall stand,
"Vicerunt eunuchi e Syria aegyptoque."
Take this third sentence:--
"Neque vero ornamenta ista villarum, quibus Lucium Paullum et Lucium
Mummium, qui rebus his urbem Italiamque omnem referserunt, ab aliquo
video perfacile Deliaco aut Syro potuisse superari."
Place the words thus:--
"Potuisse superari ab aliquo Syro aut Deliaco."
Do you not see that by making this slight change in the order of the
words, the very same words (though the sense remains as it was before)
lose all their effect the moment they are disjoined from those which
were best suited to them?
Or if you take any carelessly-constructed sentence of any unpolished
orator, and reduce it into proper shape, by making a slight alteration
in the order of his words, then that will be made harmonious which
was before loose and unmethodical Come now, take a sentence from the
speech of Gracchus before the censors:--
"Obesse non potest, quin ejusdem hominis sit, probos improbare, qui
improbos probet."
How much better would it have been if he had said,
"Quin ejusdem hominis sit, qui improbos probet, probos improbare!"
No one ever had any objection to speaking in this manner; and no one
was ever able to do so who did not do it. But those who have spoken in
a different manner have not been able to arrive at this excellence.
And so on a sudden they have set up for orators of the Attic school.
As if Demosthenes was a man of Tralles; but even his thunderbolts
would not have shone so if they had not been pointed by rhythm.
LXXI. But if there be any one who prefers a loose style of oratory,
let him cultivate it; keeping in view this principle,--if any one were
to take to pieces the shield of Phidias, he would destroy the beauty
of the collective arrangement, not the exquisite workmanship of each
fragment: and as in Thucydides I only miss the roundness of his
periods; all the graces of style are there. But these men, when
they compose a loose oration, in which there is no matter, and no
expression which is not a low one, appear to me to be taking to
pieces, not a shield, but, as the proverb says, (which, though but a
low one, is still very apt,) only a broom. And in order that there may
be no mistake as to their contempt of this style which I am praising,
let them write something either in the style of Isocrates, or in that
which Aeschines or Demosthenes employs, and then I will believe that
they have not shrunk from this style out of despair of being able to
arrive at it, but that they have avoided it deliberately on account of
their bad opinion of it: or else I will find a man myself who may be
willing to be bound by this condition,--either to say or write, in
whichever language you please, in the style which those men prefer.
For it is easier to disunite what is connected than to connect what is
disjointedly strung together.
However, the fact is, (to be brief in explaining my real opinion,) to
speak in a well-arranged and suitable manner without good ideas is to
act like a madman. But to speak in a sententious manner, without any
order or method in one's language, is to behave like a child: but
still it is childishness of that sort, that those who employ it cannot
be considered stupid men, and indeed may often be accounted wise men.
And if a man is contented with that sort of character, why let him
speak in that way. But the eloquent man, who, if his subject will
allow it, ought to excite not only approbation, but admiration and
loud applause, ought to excel in everything to such a degree, that
he should think it discreditable that anything should be beheld or
listened to more gladly than his speech.
You have here, O Brutus, my opinion respecting an orator. If you
approve of it, follow it; or else adhere to your own, if you have
formed any settled opinion on the subject. And I shall not be offended
with you, nor will I affirm that this opinion of mine which I have
asserted so positively in this book is more correct than yours; for it
is possible not only that my opinion should be different from yours,
but even that my own may be different at different times. And not
only in this matter, which has reference to gaining the assent of the
common people and to the pleasure of the ears, which are two of the
most unimportant points as far as judgment is concerned; but even in
the most important affairs, I have never found anything firmer to take
hold of, or to guide my judgment by, than the extremity of probability
as it appeared to me, when actual truth was hidden or obscure.
But I wish that you, if you do not approve entirely of the things
which I have urged in this treatise, would believe either that I
proposed to myself a work of too great difficulty for me to accomplish
properly, or else that, while wishing to comply with your request, I
undertook the impudent task of writing this, from being ashamed to
refuse you.
THE TREATISE OF M. T. CICERO ON TOPICS,
DEDICATED TO CAIUS TREBATIUS.
* * * * *
THE ARGUMENT.
This treatise was written a short time before the events which gave
rise to the first Philippic. Cicero obtained an honorary lieutenancy,
with the intention of visiting his son at Athens; on his way towards
Rhegium he spent an evening at Velia with Trebatius, where he began
this treatise, which he finished at sea, before he arrived in Greece.
It is little more than an abstract of what had been written by
Aristotle on the same subject, and which Trebatius had begged him to
explain to him; and Middleton says, that as he had not Aristotle's
essay with him, he drew this up from memory, and he appears to have
finished it in a week, as it was the nineteenth of July that he was
at Velia, and he sent this work to Trebatius from Rhegium on the
twenty-seventh. He himself apologizes to Trebatius in the letter which
accompanied it, (Ep. Fam. vii. 19,) for its obscurity, which however,
he says, was unavoidably caused by the nature of the subject.
I. We had begun to write, O Caius Trebatius, on subjects more
important and more worthy of these books, of which we have published a
sufficient number in a short time, when your request recalled me from
my course. For when you were with me in my Tusculan villa, and when
each of us was separately in the library opening such books as were
suited to our respective tastes and studies, you fell on a treatise of
Aristotle's called the Topics; which he has explained in many books;
and, excited by the title, you immediately asked me to explain to you
the doctrines laid down in those books. And when I had explained them
to you, and told you that the system for the discovery of arguments
was contained in them, in order that we might arrive, without making
any mistake, at the system on which they rested by the way discovered
by Aristotle, you urged me, modestly indeed, as you do everything,
but still in a way which let me plainly see your eagerness to be
gratified, to make you master of the whole of Aristotle's method.
And when I exhorted you, (not so much for the sake of saving myself
trouble, as because I really thought it advantageous for you
yourself,) either to read them yourself, or to get the whole system
explained to you by some learned rhetorician, you told me that you had
already tried both methods. But the obscurity of the subject deterred
you from the books; and that illustrious rhetorician to whom you had
applied answered you, I suppose, that he knew nothing of these rules
of Aristotle. And this I was not so much surprised at, namely, that
that philosopher was not known to the rhetorician, inasmuch as he is
not much known even to philosophers, except to a very few.
And such ignorance is the less excusable in them, because they
not only ought to have been allured by those things which he has
discovered and explained, but also by the incredible richness and
sweetness of his eloquence. I could not therefore remain any longer in
your debt, since you often made me this request, and yet appeared to
fear being troublesome to me, (for I could easily see that,) lest I
should appear unjust to him who is the very interpreter of the law.
In truth, as you had often written many things for me and mine, I was
afraid that if I delayed obliging you in this, it would appear very
ungrateful or very arrogant conduct on my part. But while we were
together, you yourself are the best witness of how I was occupied; but
after I left you, on my way into Greece, when neither the republic
nor any friends were occupying my attention, and when I could not
honourably remain amid the armies, (not even if I could have done so
safely,) as soon as I came to Velia and beheld your house and your
family, I was reminded of this debt; and would no longer be wanting
to your silent request. Therefore, as I had no books with me, I have
written these pages on my voyage, from memory; and I have sent them to
you while on my journey, in order that by my diligence in obeying your
commands, I might rouse you to a recollection of my affairs, although
you do not require a reminder. But, however, it is time to come to the
object which we have undertaken.
Pages:
1 |
2 |
3 |
4 |
5 |
6 |
7 |
8 |
9 |
10 |
11 |
12 |
13 |
14 |
15 |
16 |
17 |
18 |
19 |
20 |
21 |
22 |
23 |
24 |
25 |
26 |
27 |
28 |
29 |
30 |
31 |
32 |
33 |
34 |
35 |
36 |
37 |
38 |
39 |
40 | 41 |
42 |
43 |
44 |
45 |
46 |
47 |
48 |
49