Whether it were the harder thing, or the greater, to refuse you when you asked the same of me again and again, or to accomplish what you asked — over this, Brutus, I long and deeply hesitated. For to refuse a man whom I loved beyond all others, and to whom I felt myself most dear, and that when his request was just and his desire honourable — this seemed to me very hard; yet to take up so great a task, one not only difficult to achieve in practice but even to grasp in thought, I scarcely judged to belong to a man who feared the censure of the learned and the wise.

VTRVM difficilius aut maius esset negare tibi saepius idem roganti an efficere id quod rogares diu multumque, Brute, dubitavi. Nam et negare ei quem unice diligerem cuique me carissimum esse sentirem, praesertim et iusta petenti et praeclara cupienti, durum admodum mihi videbatur, et suscipere tantam rem, quantam non modo facultate consequi difficile esset sed etiam cogitatione complecti, vix arbitrabar esse eius qui vereretur reprehensionem doctorum atque prudentium.

For what is greater than this: that, when the difference among good orators is so wide, one should judge which is the best species and, as it were, the very shape of speaking? Since you ask this of me again and again, I shall undertake it, not so much in the hope of bringing it off as out of the wish to try; for I would rather, having yielded to your eagerness, be found by you to have fallen short in judgement than, if I had not done it, in goodwill.

quid enim est maius quam, cum tanta sit inter oratores bonos dissimilitudo, iudicare quae sit optima species et quasi figura dicendi? quod quoniam me saepius rogas, aggrediar non tam perficiendi spe quam experiendi voluntate; malo enim, cum studio tuo sim obsecutus, desiderari a te prudentiam meam quam, si id non fecerim, benevolentiam.

You ask, then — and now more than once — what kind of eloquence I most approve, and what that thing seems to me to be, to which nothing can be added, which I should judge supreme and most perfect. And here I fear that, if I accomplish what you wish and portray that orator whom you seek, I may slow the studies of many, who, weakened by despair, will not wish to try what they distrust their power to attain.

quaeris igitur idque iam saepius quod eloquentiae genus probem maxime et quale mihi videatur illud, quo nihil addi possit, quod ego summum et perfectissimum iudicem. In quo vereor ne, si id quod vis effecero eumque oratorem quem quaeris expressero, tardem studia multorum, qui desperatione debilitati experiri id nolent quod se assequi posse diffidant.

But it is fitting that all should try everything who have set their hearts on great things, things to be sought with great effort. And if anyone be failed, as it may be, either by his own nature or by that force of surpassing genius, or if he be less furnished with the disciplines of the great arts, let him nonetheless hold to whatever course he can; for to the man who pursues the first place, it is honourable to come to rest in the second or the third. Among poets — to speak of the Greeks — there is room not for Homer alone, or Archilochus, or Sophocles, or Pindar, but also for those second to these, and even for those below the second;

sed par est omnis omnia experiri, qui res magnas et magno opere expetendas concupiverunt. quod si quem aut natura sua aut illa praestantis ingeni vis forte deficiet aut minus instructus erit magnarum artium disciplinis, teneat tamen eum cursum quem poterit; prima enim sequentem honestum est in secundis tertiisque consistere. Nam in poetis non Homero soli locus est, ut de Graecis loquar, aut Archilocho aut Sophocli aut Pindaro, sed horum vel secundis vel etiam infra secundos;

nor, in philosophy, did the grandeur of Plato deter Aristotle from writing, nor did Aristotle himself, with that admirable knowledge and abundance of his, quench the studies of the rest. Nor were excellent men deterred from the best studies only; not even the craftsmen withdrew from their arts — those who could not match the Ialysus that we saw at Rhodes, nor the beauty of the Coan Venus; nor, daunted by the statue of Olympian Jupiter or by the Spear-Bearer, did the others try the less what they could make, or how far they could advance. So great was the multitude of them, so great in each man’s own kind the praise, that, while we marvelled at the highest, we yet approved the lower.

nec vero Aristotelem in philosophia deterruit a scribendo amplitudo Platonis, nec ipse Aristoteles admirabili quadam scientia et copia ceterorum studia restinxit. nec solum ab optimis studiis excellentes viri deterriti non sunt, sed ne opifices quidem se ab artibus suis removerunt, qui aut Ialysi, quem Rhodi vidimus, non potuerunt aut Coae Veneris pulchritudinem imitari, nec simulacro Iovis Olympii aut doryphori statua deterriti reliqui minus experti sunt quid efficere aut quo progredi possent; quorum tanta multitudo fuit, tanta in suo cuiusque genere laus, ut, cum summa miraremur, inferiora tamen probaremus.

But among orators — the Greek, at least — it is a marvel how far one man surpasses all the rest; and yet, in the age of Demosthenes, there were many orators great and renowned, and there had been before him, nor did they fail after him. Wherefore there is no reason why the hope of those who have given themselves to the study of eloquence should be broken, or their industry grow faint; for neither is even that which is the best to be despaired of, and among things of high excellence great are those that stand nearest to the best.

in oratoribus vero, Graecis quidem, admirabile est quantum inter omnis unus excellat; ac tamen, cum esset Demosthenes, multi oratores magni et clari fuerunt et antea fuerant nec postea defecerunt. Qua re non est cur eorum qui se studio eloquentiae dediderunt spes infringatur aut languescat industria; nam neque illud ipsum quod est optimum desperandum est et in praestantibus rebus magna sunt ea quae sunt optimis proxima.

And so, in shaping the supreme orator, I shall fashion such a one as perhaps no man ever was. For I do not ask who there was, but what that thing is, than which nothing can be more excellent — a thing that, in an unbroken stretch of speaking, shines out not often, and I rather think never, yet in some one part shines out at times, more densely in some men, in others perhaps more rarely.

atque ego in summo oratore fingendo talem informabo qualis fortasse nemo fuit. Non enim quaero quis fuerit, sed quid sit illud, quo nihil esse possit praestantius, quod in perpetuitate dicendi non saepe atque haud scio an numquam, in aliqua autem parte eluceat aliquando, idem apud alios densius, apud alios fortasse rarius.

But I lay it down thus: that there is nothing of any kind so beautiful that there is not something more beautiful still, the source from which it is taken, as an image is drawn, so to speak, from some living face; and this source can be grasped neither by the eyes nor by the ears nor by any sense, but by thought and mind alone. And so of the statues of Phidias, than which we see nothing more perfect of their kind, and of those paintings I have named, we can yet conceive things more beautiful; nor did that craftsman, when he made the form of Jupiter or of Minerva,

sed ego sic statuo, nihil esse in ullo genere tam pulchrum, quo non pulchrius id sit unde illud ut ex ore aliquo quasi imago exprimatur; quod neque oculis neque auribus neque ullo sensu percipi potest, cogitatione tantum et mente complectimur. Itaque et Phidiae simulacris, quibus nihil in illo genere perfectius videmus, et eis picturis quas nominavi cogitare tamen possumus pulchriora; nec vero ille artifex cum faceret Iovis formam aut Minervae,

gaze upon some person from whom to draw the likeness, but in his own mind there sat a certain surpassing image of beauty, and, fixing his eyes upon it and intent upon it, he directed his art and his hand to the likeness of it. As, then, in shapes and figures there is something perfect and surpassing, to whose conceived form the things made are referred by imitation, while that form itself falls under no eye, so the form of perfect eloquence we behold with the mind, while its likeness we seek with the ears.

contemplabatur aliquem e quo similitudinem duceret, sed ipsius in mente insidebat species pulchritudinis eximia quaedam, quam intuens in eaque defixus ad illius similitudinem artem et manum dirigebat. vt igitur in formis et figuris est aliquid perfectum et excellens, cuius ad cogitatam speciem imitando referuntur eaque sub oculos ipsa non cadit, sic perfectae eloquentiae speciem animo videmus, effigiem auribus quaerimus.

These forms of things Plato calls ideai — that gravest of authorities and teachers not only in conceiving but also in speaking — and he denies that they come into being, and says that they always are and are held together by reason and intelligence; all else is born, perishes, flows, slips away, and does not remain for long in one and the same state. Whatever, then, there is that is disputed by reason and method, that must be brought back to the ultimate form and species of its kind.

has rerum formas appellat i)de/as ille non intellegendi solum sed etiam dicendi gravissimus auctor et magister Plato, easque gigni negat et ait semper esse ac ratione et intellegentia contineri; cetera nasci occidere fluere labi nec diutius esse uno et eodem statu. Quicquid est igitur de quo ratione et via disputetur, id est ad ultimam sui generis formam speciemque redigendum.

And I see that this first step of mine is drawn not from the disputations of the rhetoricians but fetched from the heart of philosophy, and that, being both ancient and somewhat obscure, it will draw either some reproach or at least some wonder. For men will either marvel what these things have to do with what we are seeking — and these the matter itself, once understood, will satisfy, so that the deep source will not seem fetched without cause — or they will reproach us for tracking down untrodden ways and leaving the beaten paths behind.

ac video hanc primam ingressionem meam non ex oratoriis disputationibus ductam sed e media philosophia repetitam, et eam quidem cum antiquam tum subobscuram aut reprehensionis aliquid aut certe admirationis habituram. Nam aut mirabuntur quid haec pertineant ad ea quae quaerimus—quibus satis faciet res ipsa cognita, ut non sine causa alte repetita videatur—aut reprehendent, quod inusi- tatas vias indagemus, tritas relinquamus.

For my part, I am aware that I often seem to be saying new things, when I say things very old but unheard by most; and I confess that I, as an orator — if indeed I am one at all, or whatever I am — came forth not from the workshops of the rhetoricians but from the walks of the Academy. For those are the running-grounds of manifold and varied discourse, in which the footprints of Plato were first impressed. By his disputations and by those of the other philosophers the orator has been both most sharply exercised and most aided; for all the richness, the very forest, so to speak, of speaking, is drawn from them — yet not sufficiently equipped for cases in the Forum, which, as those very men used to say, they left to the ruder Muses.

ego autem et me saepe nova videri dicere intellego, cum pervetera dicam sed inaudita plerisque, et fateor me oratorem, si modo sim aut etiam quicumque sim, non ex rhetorum officinis sed ex Academiae spatiis exstitisse; illa enim sunt curricula multiplicium variorumque sermonum, in quibus Platonis primum sunt impressa vestigia. Sed et huius et aliorum philosophorum disputationibus et exagitatus maxime orator est et adiutus; omnis enim ubertas et quasi silva dicendi ducta ab illis est nec satis tamen instructa ad forensis causas, quas, ut illi ipsi dicere solebant, agrestioribus Musis reliquerunt.

Thus this eloquence of the Forum, scorned and rejected by the philosophers, lacked indeed many great aids; but, adorned all the same with words and with thoughts, it won applause among the people and did not fear the judgement or the censure of the few. So the learned wanted popular eloquence, and the eloquent wanted elegant learning.

sic eloquentia haec forensis spreta a philosophis et repudiata multis quidem illa adiumentis magnisque caruit, sed tamen ornata verbis atque sententiis iactationem habuit in populo nec paucorum iudicium reprehensionemque pertimuit: ita et doctis eloquentia popularis et disertis elegans doctrina defuit.

Let it be laid down, then, first of all — a thing that will be better understood hereafter — that without philosophy the eloquent man we seek cannot be brought into being; not that all things are in philosophy, but that it gives such help as the training-ground gives the actor; for small things are often most rightly compared with great. For no one can speak with greater breadth and abundance on great and various matters without philosophy —

positum sit igitur in primis, quod post magis intellegetur, sine philosophia non posse effici quem quaerimus eloquentem, non ut in ea tamen omnia sint, sed ut sic adiuvet ut palaestra histrionem; parva enim magnis saepe rectissime conferuntur. Nam nec latius atque copiosius de magnis variisque rebus sine philosophia potest quisquam dicere;—

since indeed, even in Plato’s Phaedrus, Socrates says that Pericles excelled the other orators in this, that he had been a hearer of the natural philosopher Anaxagoras; from whom, Socrates holds, besides learning certain other splendid and lofty things, he became rich and fertile, and knew — which is the greatest thing in eloquence — by what modes of speech each part of men’s minds is to be moved; and the same may be judged of Demosthenes, from whose letters

si quidem etiam in Phaedro Platonis hoc Periclem praestitisse ceteris dicit oratoribus Socrates, quod is Anaxagorae physici fuerit auditor; a quo censet eum, cum alia praeclara quaedam et magnifica didicisse tum uberem et fecundum fuisse gnarumque, quod est eloquentiae maximum, quibus orationis modis quaeque animorum partes pellerentur; quod idem de Demosthene existimari potest, cuius ex epistulis

one may gather how constant a hearer of Plato he was — nor indeed, without the discipline of the philosophers, can we discern the genus and species of each thing, nor unfold it by definition, nor distribute it into parts, nor judge what is true and what false, nor discern consequences, see contradictions, distinguish ambiguities. And what shall I say of the nature of things, the knowledge of which furnishes great abundance to oratory — of life, of duties, of virtue, of morals? Can these be spoken or even understood well enough without much study of the very things themselves?

intellegi licet quam frequens fuerit Platonis auditor;—nec vero sine philosophorum disciplina genus et speciem cuiusque rei cernere neque eam definiendo explicare nec tribuere in partis possumus nec iudicare quae vera quae falsa sint neque cernere consequentia, repugnantia videre, ambigua distinguere. Quid dicam de natura rerum, cuius cognitio magnam orationi suppeditat copiam, de vita, de officiis, de virtute, de moribus? satisne sine multa earum ipsarum rerum disciplina aut dici aut intellegi. potest?

To all these matters, so many and so great, must be added ornaments beyond number; and these alone, in those days at least, were what the so-called masters of speaking handed down. From which it comes about that no one attains that true and finished eloquence, because the discipline of conceiving is one thing and the discipline of speaking another, and from some men the knowledge of matter, from others the knowledge of words, is sought.

ad has tot tantasque res adhibenda sunt ornamenta innumerabilia; quae sola tum quidem tradebantur ab eis qui dicendi numerabantur magistri; quo fit ut veram illam et absolutam eloquentiam nemo consequatur, quod alia intellegendi alia dicendi disciplina est et ab aliis rerum ab aliis verborum doctrina quaeritur.

And so M. Antonius, to whom the age of our fathers gave even the first place in eloquence, a man by nature most penetrating and shrewd, says in that one book which he left behind that he had seen many fluent men, but not one eloquent. Plainly there sat in his mind an image of eloquence, which he discerned with the mind but did not see in actual fact. A man of the keenest genius — for such he was — finding much wanting both in himself and in others, he saw no one who could rightly be called eloquent. And if he thought neither himself nor L. Crassus eloquent,

itaque M. Antonius, cui vel primas eloquentiae patrum nostrorum tribuebat aetas, vir natura peracutus et prudens, in eo libro quem unum reliquit disertos ait se vidisse multos, eloquentem omnino neminem. Insidebat videlicet in eius mente species eloquentiae, quam cernebat animo, re ipsa non videbat. Vir autem acerrimo ingenio—sic enim fuit—multa et in se et in aliis desiderans neminem plane qui recte appellari eloquens posset videbat; quod si ille nec se nec L. Crassum eloquentem putavit,

then surely he held some form of eloquence grasped in his mind, to which, since nothing was lacking, he could not admit those in whom one thing, or more, was wanting. Let us track him down, then, Brutus, if we can — him whom Antonius never saw, or who in truth never existed at all; and if we cannot imitate and portray him, which that same man said was scarcely granted even to a god, we shall perhaps be able to say what manner of man he ought to be.

habuit profecto comprehensam animo quandam formam eloquentiae, cui quoniam nihil deerat, eos quibus aliquid aut plura deerant in eam formam non poterat includere. Investigemus hunc igitur, Brute, si possumus, quem numquam vidit Antonius aut qui omnino nullus umquam fuit; quem si imitari atque exprimere non possumus, quod idem ille vix deo concessum esse dicebat, at qualis esse debeat poterimus fortasse dicere.

There are, in all, three kinds of speaking, in each of which singly certain men have flourished, but in all of them alike — which is what we want — very few. For there have been the grand-styled, so to speak, with ample and weighty thought and majesty of words, vehement, varied, copious, grave, equipped and ready to move minds and turn them about — a thing which some achieved by a rough, harsh, bristling speech, neither rounded nor brought to a close, others by one smooth, well-built, and finished; and on the other side the slender, the keen, teaching everything and making it clearer rather than fuller, polished by a certain fine and compressed speech; and within that same kind some are shrewd, but unpolished and of set purpose like to the rough and unschooled, while others, in the same leanness, are more harmonious — that is, witty, blooming even, and lightly adorned.

tria sunt omnino genera dicendi, quibus in singulis quidam floruerunt, peraeque autem, id quod volumus, perpauci in omnibus. Nam et grandiloqui, ut ita dicam, fuerunt cum ampla et sententiarum gravitate et maiestate verborum, vehementes varii, copiosi graves, ad permovendos et convertendos animos instructi et parati—quod ipsum alii aspera tristi horrida oratione neque perfecta atque conclusa consequebantur, alii levi et structa et terminata—, et contra tenues acuti, omnia docentes et dilucidiora, non ampliora facientes, subtili quadam et pressa oratione limati; in eodemque genere alii callidi, sed impoliti et consulto rudium similes et imperitorum, alii in eadem ieiunitate concinniores, id est faceti, florentes etiam et leviter ornati.

But there is also a certain middle kind, set between these and, as it were, tempered, using neither the keenness of the latter nor the thunderbolt of the former, neighbour to both, excelling in neither, sharing in each — or rather, if we seek the truth, lacking each. This one flows, as they say, in a single even strain in its speaking, bringing nothing but smoothness and evenness, or it adds a few flowers, as in a garland, and marks out the whole speech with moderate ornaments of words and thoughts.

est autem quidam interiectus inter hos medius et quasi temperatus nec acumine posteriorum nec fulmine utens superiorum, vicinus amborum, in neutro excellens, utriusque particeps vel utriusque, si verum quaerimus, potius expers; isque uno tenore, ut aiunt, in dicendo fluit nihil adferens praeter facilitatem et aequabilitatem aut addit aliquos ut in corona toros omnemque orationem ornamentis modicis verborum sententiarumque distinguit.

Whoever have attained the power of these several kinds, each in its own kind, have won a great name among orators. But the question is whether they have brought off what we want. For we see that there have been some who could speak, in the same person, with ornament and weight, and again with subtlety and finesse. And would that among Latin speakers we could find the likeness of such an orator! It would be a fine thing not to seek what is foreign, but to be content with what is our own.

horum singulorum generum quicumque vim in singulis consecuti sunt, magnum in oratoribus nomen habuerunt. Sed quaerendum est satisne id quod volumus effecerint. videmus enim fuisse quosdam qui idem ornate et graviter, idem versute et subtiliter dicerent. Atque utinam in Latinis talis oratoris simulacrum reperire possemus! esset egregium non quaerere externa, domesticis esse contentos.

But I, the very man who in that conversation of ours set out in the Brutus gave much to the Latins — whether to encourage others or because I loved my own countrymen — recall that I set one man, Demosthenes, far before them all; and him I would fit to that eloquence which I conceive in my mind, not to that which I have come to know in any actual man. There has been no one graver than he, none more shrewd, none more measured. And so those must be warned whose untaught talk has grown common — who either wish to be called Attic, or themselves wish to speak in the Attic way — that they should admire this man above all, than whom I do not believe even Athens itself was more Attic; let them learn what the Attic thing is, and measure his eloquence by his strength, not by their own weakness.

sed ego idem, qui in illo sermone nostro qui est expositus in Bruto multum tribuerim Latinis, vel ut hortarer alios vel quod amarem meos, recordor longe omnibus unum me anteferre Demosthenem, quem velim accommodare ad eam quam sentiam eloquentiam, non ad eam quam in aliquo ipse cognoverim. Hoc nec gravior exstitit quisquam nec callidior nec temperatior. Itaque nobis monendi sunt ei quorum sermo imperitus increbruit, qui aut dici se desiderant Atticos aut ipsi Attice volunt dicere, ut mirentur hunc maxime, quo ne Athenas quidem ipsas magis credo fuisse Atticas; quid enim sit Atticum discant eloquentiamque ipsius viribus, non imbecillitate sua metiantur.

For at present each man praises only so much as he hopes himself to be able to imitate. Yet I think it not amiss to teach those who are endowed with the best zeal but a less firm judgement what the proper praise of the Attic writers is. The eloquence of orators has always been governed by the discernment of its hearers. For all who wish to win approval look to the will of those who hear, and to their will, their pleasure, their nod, they fashion and accommodate themselves wholly.

nunc enim tantum quisque laudat quantum se posse sperat imitari. Sed tamen eos studio optimo iudicio minus firmo praeditos docere quae sit propria laus Atticorum non alienum puto. semper oratorum eloquentiae moderatrix fuit auditorum prudentia. Omnes enim qui probari volunt voluntatem eorum qui audiunt intuentur ad eamque et ad eorum arbitrium et nutum totos se fingunt et accommodant.

And so Caria and Phrygia and Mysia, being the least polished and the least elegant, took to themselves, as suited to their ears, a certain rich and, so to speak, fatted kind of speech; which their neighbours the Rhodians, with no wide sea set between, never approved, and Greece much less, while the Athenians rejected it utterly. Their judgement was always discerning and pure, so that they could endure to hear nothing but what was uncorrupted and elegant. And while the orator was a servant to their scruple, he dared to set down no word unusual, no word distasteful.

itaque Caria et Phrygia et Mysia, quod minime politae minimeque elegantes sunt, asciverunt aptum suis auribus opimum quoddam et tamquam adipatae dictionis genus, quod eorum vicini non ita lato interiecto mari Rhodii numquam probaverunt Graecia autem multo minus, Athenienses vero funditus repudiaverunt; quorum semper fuit prudens sincerumque iudicium, nihil ut possent nisi incorruptum audire et elegans. Eorum religioni cum serviret orator, nullum verbum insolens, nullum odiosum ponere audebat.

And so that man whom we have said surpassed the rest, in that speech For Ctesiphon — by far his best — at the outset spoke more quietly; then, while arguing about the laws, more compressedly; afterward, gradually kindling the jurors, as soon as he saw them ablaze, in the rest of the speech he leapt out more boldly. And yet, even with him weighing carefully the weight of every word, Aeschines reproaches certain expressions and assails them, and mockingly calls them harsh, distasteful, unbearable; nay, he even asks the man himself — when indeed he calls him a brute — whether those are words or monstrosities; so that to Aeschines not even Demosthenes seems to speak in the Attic way.

itaque hic, quem praestitisse diximus ceteris, in illa pro Ctesiphonte oratione longe optima summissius a primo, deinde, dum de legibus disputat, pressius, post sensim incendens iudices, ut vidit ardentis, in reliquis exsultavit audacius. Ac tamen in hoc ipso diligenter examinante verborum omnium pondera reprehendit Aeschines quaedam et exagitat inludensque dura odiosa intolerabilia esse dicit; quin etiam quaerit ab ipso, cum quidem eum beluam appellat, utrum illa verba an portenta sint; ut Aeschini ne Demosthenes quidem videatur Attice dicere.

For it is easy to mark some word that blazes, so to speak, and then, once the fires of the mind are quenched, to laugh at it. And so, clearing himself, Demosthenes makes a jest of it: he denies that the fortunes of Greece were staked on this — whether he had used this word or that, whether he had stretched out his hand this way or that. How, then, would a Mysian or a Phrygian be heard at Athens, when even Demosthenes is assailed as overblown? But when one had begun to chant in the Asiatic manner, with a falling, howling voice, who would bear him — or rather, who would not order him carried off?

facile est enim verbum aliquod ardens, ut ita dicam, notare idque restinctis iam animorum incendiis inridere. Itaque se purgans iocatur Demosthenes: negat in eo positas esse fortunas Graeciae, hocine an illo verbo usus sit, hucine an illuc manum porrexerit. Quonam igitur modo audiretur Mysus aut Phryx Athenis, cum etiam Demosthenes exagitetur ut putidus? cum vero inclinata ululantique voce more Asiatico canere coepisset, quis eum ferret aut potius quis non iuberet auferri?

Those, then, who accommodate themselves to the polished and scrupulous ears of the Attic writers are to be reckoned to speak in the Attic way. Of these there are several kinds; but these men suspect only the one, of whatever sort it is. For they think that he who speaks roughly and without cultivation, provided he do it elegantly and clearly, he alone speaks in the Attic way. They are wrong in the "alone"; in the "Attic" they are not deceived.

ad Atticorum igitur auris teretes et religiosas qui se accommodant, ei sunt existimandi Attice dicere. Quorum genera plura sunt; hi unum modo quale sit suspicantur. Putant enim qui horride inculteque dicat, modo id eleganter enucleateque faciat, eum solum Attice dicere. Errant, quod solum; quod Attice, non falluntur.

For by their judgement, if that alone is Attic, then not even Pericles spoke in the Attic way, to whom the first place was awarded without dispute; and had he used the slender kind, he would never have been said by the poet Aristophanes to flash, to thunder, to throw all Greece into confusion. Let that most charming and most polished writer Lysias, then, speak in the Attic way — for who could deny it? — provided we understand that the Attic thing in Lysias is not that he is slender and unadorned, but that he has nothing unusual or inept; while to speak with ornament, with weight, and with abundance is either the mark of the Attic writers, or else let neither Aeschines nor Demosthenes be Attic.

istorum enim iudicio, si solum illud est Atticum, ne Pericles quidem dixit Attice, cui primae sine controversia deferebantur; qui si tenui genere uteretur, numquam ab Aristophane poeta fulgere tonare permiscere Graeciam dictus esset. Dicat igitur Attice venustissimus ille scriptor ac politissimus Lysias—quis enim id possit negare?—, dum intellegamus hoc esse Atticum in Lysia, non quod tenuis sit atque inornatus, sed quod non nihil habeat insolens aut ineptum; ornate vero et graviter et copiose dicere aut Atticorum sit aut ne sit Aeschines neve Demosthenes Atticus.

But behold, certain men profess themselves to be Thucydideans: a new kind of the unschooled, and unheard-of. For those who follow Lysias follow a kind of pleader — not, to be sure, ample and grand, yet subtle and elegant, and one who could make a fine stand in cases in the Forum. But Thucydides narrates deeds done, and wars, and battles, gravely indeed and well, but nothing can be carried over from him to the use of the Forum and of public affairs. Those very harangues of his have so many obscure and hidden thoughts that they can scarcely be understood — which in civil oratory is the very greatest fault of all.

ecce autem aliqui se Thucydidios esse profitentur: novum quoddam imperitorum et inauditum genus. Nam qui Lysiam sequuntur, causidicum quendam sequuntur non ilium quidem amplum atque grandem, subtilem et elegantem tamen et qui in forensibus causis possit praeclare consistere. Thucydides autem res gestas et bella narrat et proelia, graviter sane et probe, sed nihil ab eo transferri potest ad forensem usum et publicum. Ipsae illae contiones ita multas habent obscuras abditasque sententias vix ut intellegantur; quod est in oratione civili vitium vel maximum.

But what perversity is there in men so great that, with the harvest discovered, they should still feed on acorns? Could the diet of mankind be refined by the kindness of the Athenians, and could speech not be refined too? And then — what Greek rhetorician ever drew anything from Thucydides? “But he was praised by everyone.” I grant it; yet praised as a wise, austere, and weighty expositor of events — not as a man who handled cases in the courts, but as one who narrated wars in his histories. And so he was never reckoned an orator.

quae est autem in hominibus tanta perversitas, ut inventis frugibus glande vescantur? an victus hominum Atheniensium beneficio excoli potuit, oratio non potuit? quis porro umquam Graecorum rhetorum a Thucydide quicquam duxit? ’ at laudatus est ab omnibus.’ fateor; sed ita ut rerum explicator prudens severus gravis; non ut in iudiciis versaret causas, sed ut in historiis bella narraret; itaque numquam est numeratus orator,

Nor indeed, had he not written history, would his name survive — and that although he had held office and was of noble birth. Yet no one imitates the weight either of his words or of his thoughts; rather, when men have uttered certain maimed and gaping phrases, which they could have managed even without a teacher, they fancy themselves true-born Thucydideses. I have met, too, with one who longed to be like Xenophon, whose speech is indeed sweeter than honey, but as far as can be from the din of the Forum.

nec vero, si historiam non scripsisset, nomen eius exstaret, cum praesertim fuisset honoratus et nobilis. Huius tamen nemo neque verborum neque sententiarum gravitatem imitatur, sed cum mutila quaedam et hiantia locuti sunt, quae vel sine magistro facere potuerunt, germanos se putant esse Thucydidas. Nactus sum etiam qui Xenophontis similem esse se cuperet, cuius sermo est ille quidem melle dulcior, sed a forensi strepitu remotissimus.

Let us turn back, then, to the man we wish to begin and to mould at last with that eloquence which Antonius found in no one. We are attempting a great work, Brutus, and a hard one; but to one who loves, I think nothing is difficult. And I love, and have always loved, your talent, your studies, your character. Indeed I am kindled more each day — not by longing alone, though that wears me away, as I miss our meetings, the companionship of daily life, your most learned conversation — but also by the incredible report of your admirable virtues, which, unlike in appearance, are joined together by wisdom.

referamus nos igitur ad eum quem volumus incohandum et ea demum eloquentia informandum quam in nullo cognovit Antonius. magnum opus omnino et arduum, Brute, conamur; sed nihil difficile amanti puto. Amo autem et semper amavi ingenium studia mores tuos. Incendor porro cotidie magis non desiderio solum, quo quidem conficior, congressus nostros, consuetudinem victus, doctissimos sermones requirens tuos, sed etiam incredibili fama virtutum admirabilium, quae specie dispares prudentia coniunguntur.

For what is so distant from austerity as affability? Yet who was ever held either more upright than you or more agreeable? What is so difficult as to be loved by all when adjudicating the disputes of the many? Yet you bring it about that you send away even those against whom you decide reconciled and at peace. And so you contrive that, although you do nothing for the sake of favour, all that you do is nonetheless welcome. Therefore, of all lands, Gaul alone does not blaze with the common conflagration; there you enjoy your own company, while you are recognized in the full light of Italy and move among the very flower and strength of our best citizens. And how great a thing is this — that amid the greatest occupations you never interrupt the studies of learning, but are always either writing something yourself or summoning me to write!

quid enim tam distans quam a severitate comitas? quis tamen umquam te aut sanctior est habitus aut dulcior? quid tam difficile quam in plurimorum controversiis diiudicandis ab omnibus diligi? consequeris tamen ut eos ipsos quos contra statuas aequos placatosque dimittas. Itaque efficis ut, cum gratiae causa nihil facias, omnia tamen sint grata quae facis. Ergo omnibus ex terris una Gallia communi non ardet incendio; in qua frueris ipset te, cum in Italiae luce cognosceris versarisque in optimorum civium vel flore vel robore. Iam quantum illud est, quod in maximis occupationibus numquam intermittis studia doctrinae, semper aut ipse scribis aliquid aut me vocas ad scribendum!

And so I undertook this task at once, as soon as the Cato was finished — a work I would never have touched, fearing times hostile to virtue, had I not judged it an offence not to obey you when you urged me and stirred up in me the memory of that man so dear to me — but I call you to witness that it is at your asking, and against my own refusals, that I have dared to write these things. For I wish the charge to be shared between us, so that, if I should prove unable to sustain so great an inquiry, the fault of an unjust burden laid on me may be yours, and mine the fault of taking it up; though even so the praise of the gift you bestowed will make good any error in my judgment.

itaque hoc sum adgressus statim Catone absoluto—quem ipsum numquam attigissem tempora timens inimica virtuti, nisi tibi hortanti et illius memoriam mihi caram excitanti non parere nefas esse duxissem—, sed testificor me a te roga- tum et recusantem haec scribere esse ausum. Volo enim mihi tecum commune esse crimen, ut, si sustinere tantam quaestionem non potuero, iniusti oneris impositi tua culpa sit, mea recepti; in quo tamen iudici nostri errorem laus tibi dati muneris compensabit.

But in every matter it is most difficult to set out the form — what the Greeks call charakter — of the best, because one thing seems best to one man, another to another. “I delight in Ennius,” says someone, “because he does not depart from the common usage of words”; “I in Pacuvius,” says another: “in him all the verses are ornate and elaborated, in the other far more carelessly done”; suppose yet another prefers Accius. For judgments vary, as among the Greeks, nor is it easy to explain which form most excels. In paintings some are delighted by the rough, the uncultivated, the recessed and shadowed; others, on the contrary, by the bright, the cheerful, the well-lit. What is there from which you might draw out some prescription or formula, when each thing excels in its own kind, and the kinds are many? By this scruple I was not driven back from the attempt; I judged that in all things there is something best, even if it lay hidden, and that it could be judged by one who was expert in the matter.

sed in omni re difficillimum est formam, qui xarakth Graece dicitur, exponere optimi, quod aliud aliis videtur optimum. Ennio delector, ait quispiam, quod non discedit a communi more verborum; Pacuvio, inquit alius: omnes apud hunc ornati elaboratique sunt versus, multo apud alterum neglegentius; fac alium Accio; varia enim sunt iudicia, ut in Graecis, nec facilis explicatio quae forma maxime excellat. In picturis alios horrida inculta, abdita et opaca, contra alios nitida laeta conlustrata delectant. Quid est quo praescriptum aliquod aut formulam exprimas, cum in suo quidque genere praestet et genera plum sint? hac ego religione non sum ab hoc conatu repulsus existimavique in omnibus rebus esse aliquid optimum, etiam si lateret, idque ab eo posse qui eius rei gnarus esset iudicari.

But since there are several kinds of oratory, and these diverse, and they do not all fall under a single form — those of panegyrics and of histories and of such persuasive pieces as the Panegyricus which Isocrates composed, and many others of those who are called sophists, and the form of the remaining kinds of composition, which stand apart from forensic contention, and of that whole class which the Greeks name epideiktikon, because it is got up, as it were, for inspection, for the sake of giving pleasure — this I shall not embrace at present; not that it is to be neglected, for it is, as it were, the nurse of that orator whom we wish to mould and of whom we are labouring to say something more exacting. From this both his fullness of words is fed, and the arrangement of them, and his rhythm enjoys a freer kind of license.

sed quoniam plura sunt orationum genera eaque diversa neque in unam formam cadunt omnia, laudationum scriptionum et historiarum et talium suasionum, qualem Isocrates fecit Panegyricum multique alii qui sunt nominati sophistae, reliquarumque scriptionum rerum formam, quae absunt a forensi contentione eiusque totius generis quod Graece e)pideiktiko nominatur, quia quasi ad inspiciendum delectationis causa comparatum est, non complectar hoc tempore; non quo neglegenda sit; est enim illa quasi nutrix eius oratoris quem informare volumus et de quo molimur aliquid exquisitius dicere. ab hac et verborum copia alitur et eorum constructio et numerus liberiore quadam fruitur licentia.

Indulgence, too, is granted to the trim balancing of thoughts, and pointed, exact, and rounded periods of words are conceded; and the work is done deliberately — not from ambush, but openly and in plain sight — so that words may answer to words as if measured out and matched, so that opposites may often be set against each other and contraries compared, and so that clauses may end alike and bring back the same sound in their cadence. These things, in the truth of real cases, we do both far more rarely and certainly more covertly. In the Panathenaicus, however, Isocrates confesses that he pursued these effects studiously; for he had written not for the contest of the courts, but for the pleasure of the ears.

datur etiam venia concinnitati sententiarum et arguti certique et circumscripti verborum ambitus conceduntur, de industriaque non ex insidiis sed aperte ac palam elaboratur, ut verba verbis quasi demensa et paria respondeant, ut crebro conferantur pugnantia comparenturque contraria et ut pariter extrema terminentur eundemque referant in cadendo sonum; quae in veritate causarum et rarius multo facimus et certe occultius. In Panathenaico autem Isocrates ea se studiose consectatum fatetur; non enim ad iudiciorum certamen, sed ad voluptatem aurium scripserat.

They say that Thrasymachus of Calchedon first handled these matters, and Gorgias of Leontini, and after them Theodorus of Byzantium and many others whom Socrates, in the Phaedrus, calls word-artificers logodaidalous; of whose work much is pointed enough, but, as being just then first coming into being, minute and like little verses, and overly painted. The more wonderful, by contrast, are Herodotus and Thucydides; for although their age had fallen within the times of those I have named, they themselves kept very far from such dainties — or rather such follies. The one flows, without any rough places, like a calm river; the other is borne along more impetuously, and of warlike matters sings even, in a manner, a war-song. And by these first, as Theophrastus says, history was stirred to dare to speak more richly and more ornately than its predecessors.

haec tractasse Thrasymachum Calchedonium primum et Leontinum ferunt Gorgiam, Theodorum inde Byzantium multosque alios, quos logodaida/lous appellat in Phaedro Socrates; quorum satis arguta multa, sed ut modo primumque nascentia minuta et versiculorum similia quaedam nimiumque depicta. Quo magis sunt Herodotus Thucydidesque mirabiles; quorum aetas cum in eorum tempora quos nominavi incidisset, longissime tamen ipsi a talibus deliciis vel potius ineptiis afuerunt. Alter enim sine ullis salebris quasi sedatus amnis fluit, alter incitatior fertur et de bellicis rebus canit etiam quodam modo bellicum; primisque ab his, ut ait Theophrastus, historia commota est, ut auderet uberius quam superiores et ornatius dicere.

To the age of these men succeeded Isocrates, who beyond all others of the same kind is always praised by us — though now and then, Brutus, you gently and learnedly resist. But perhaps you will grant me the point, if you have learned what it is in him that I praise. For when Thrasymachus seemed to him chopped up with minute rhythms, and Gorgias likewise — though these two are reported to have been the first to join words by a certain art — and Theodorus, again, too abrupt and not, so to speak, sufficiently rounded, he was the first to set about expanding his thoughts with words and filling them out with softer rhythms; and since in this he taught those who became foremost partly in speaking and partly in writing, his house was held to be the workshop of eloquence.

horum aetati successit Isocrates, qui praeter ceteros eiusdem generis laudatur semper a nobis, non numquam, Brute, leniter et erudite repugnante te; sed concedas mihi fortasse, si quid in eo laudem cognoveris. Nam cum concisus ei Thrasymachus minutis numeris videretur et Gorgias, qui tamen primi traduntur arte quadam verba iunxisse, Theodorus autem praefractior nec satis, ut ita dicam, rotundus, primus instituit dilatare verbis et mollioribus numeris explere sententias; in quo cum doceret eos qui partim in dicendo partim in scribendo principes exstiterunt, domus eius officina habita eloquentiae est.

And so, just as I, when I was praised by our Cato, easily bore to be censured by the rest, so Isocrates may rightly, on the testimony of Plato, despise the judgments of others. For there is, as you know, near the very end of the Phaedrus, Socrates speaking in these very words: “Isocrates is still a young man, Phaedrus; but I should like to say what I forecast of him.” “What, then?” said the other. “He seems to me of too great a talent to be compared with the speeches of Lysias; and besides, of a greater natural bent toward virtue; so that it will be no wonder at all if, when he has advanced in years, he should either, in this kind of oratory to which he now devotes himself, surpass all who have ever touched oratory by as much as he now surpasses other boys, or, if he is not content with these things, should reach by some divine impulse of mind toward greater ones; for there is by nature in this man’s mind a certain philosophy.”

itaque ut ego, cum a nostro Catone laudabar, vel reprehendi me a ceteris facile patiebar, sic Isocrates videtur testimonio Platonis aliorum iudicia debere contemnere. Est enim, ut scis, quasi in extrema pagina Phaedri his ipsis verbis loquens Socrates: Adulescens etiam nunc, o Phaedre, Isocrates est, sed quid de illo augurer libet dicere. Quid tandem? inquit ille. Maiore mihi ingenio videtur esse quam ut cum orationibus Lysiae comparetur, praeterea ad virtutem maior indoles; ut minime mirum futurum sit si, cum aetate processerit, aut in hoc orationum genere cui nunc studet tantum quantum pueris reliquis praestet omnibus qui umquam orationes attigerunt aut, si contentus his non fuerit, divino aliquo animi motu maiora concupiscat; inest enim natura philosophia in huius viri mente quaedam.

Such are the things Socrates forecasts of him as a young man. But Plato writes these things of him when he was older — and he writes as his contemporary, and indeed, a railer at all rhetoricians, he admires this one alone; so let those who do not love Isocrates suffer me to err along with Socrates and with Plato. The kind of oratory, then, is sweet, and loose and flowing, pointed in its thoughts and resounding in its words, in that epideictic class which we have said is proper to the sophists — fitter for parade than for battle, dedicated to the gymnasium and the wrestling-school, scorned and driven out of the Forum. But since eloquence, reared on this nourishment, afterward gives itself its own colour and strength, it was not out of place to speak of the orator’s cradle, as it were. But these things belong to the games and the parade; let us, for our part, now come to the line of battle and the fight.

haec de adulescente Socrates auguratur. At ea de seniore scribit Plato et scribit aequalis et quidem exagitator omnium rhetorum hunc miratur unum; me autem qui Isocratem non diligunt una cum Socrate et cum Platone errare patiantur. Dulce igitur orationis genus et solutum et fluens, sententiis argutum, verbis sonans est in illo epidictico genere quod diximus proprium sophistarum, pompae quam pugnae aptius, gymnasiis et palaestrae dicatum, spretum et pulsum foro. Sed quod educata huius nutrimentis elo- quentia est ipsa se postea colorat et roborat, non alienum fuit de oratoris quasi incunabulis dicere. Verum haec ludorum atque pompae; nos autem iam in aciem dimicationemque veniamus.

Since three things are to be looked to by the orator — what he is to say, and in what place each thing is to be said, and in what manner — we must indeed say what is best in each; but somewhat otherwise than is usual in the handing down of an art. We shall lay down no precepts, for that is not what we have undertaken, but we shall sketch the appearance and form of surpassing eloquence; nor shall we set out by what means it is procured, but only of what sort it seems to us to be.

quoniam tria videnda sunt oratori: quid dicat et quo quidque loco et quo modo, dicendum omnino est quid sit optimum in singulis, sed aliquanto secus atque in tradenda arte dici solet. Nulla praecepta ponemus, neque enim id suscepimus, sed excellentis eloquentiae speciem et formam adumbrabimus; nec quibus rebus ea paretur exponemus, sed qualis nobis esse videatur.

And the first two briefly; for they are not so much marks of the highest distinction as they are necessary, and yet they are almost shared with many. For both to discover and to judge what you are to say are indeed great matters, and are, as it were, the soul within the body, but they belong more to good sense than to eloquence; and yet in what case is good sense without a place? Let this orator, then — the one we wish to be supreme — know the topics of arguments and of reasonings.

ac duo breviter prima; sunt enim non tam insignia ad maximam laudem quam necessaria et tamen cum multis paene communia. nam et invenire et iudicare quid dicas magna illa quidem sunt et tamquam animi instar in corpore, sed propria magis prudentiae quam eloquentiae: qua tamen in causa est vacua prudentia? noverit igitur hic quidem orator, quem summum esse volumus, argumentorum et rationum locos.

For since, whatever it is that is engaged in controversy or in contention, in it the question is either whether a thing is, or what it is, or of what quality it is — whether it is, by signs; what it is, by definitions; of what quality it is, by the parts of right and wrong — that the orator may be able to use these (not that common orator, but this surpassing one), let him always, if he can, call the controversy away from particular persons and times; for it is permitted to debate more broadly of the class than of the part, so that what has been proved in the whole must necessarily be proved in the part —

nam quoniam, quicquid est quod in controversia aut in contentione versetur, in eo aut sitne aut quid sit aut quale sit quaeritur:—sitne, signis; quid sit, definitionibus; quale sit, recti pravique partibus; quibus ut uti possit orator, non ille vulgaris sed hic excellens, a propriis personis et temporibus semper, si potest, avocet controversiam; latius enim de genere quam de parte disceptare licet, ut quod in universo sit probatum id in parte sit probari necesse;—

this question, then, transferred from particular persons and times to the account of the whole class, is called a thesis thesis. In this Aristotle trained his young men, not in the manner of philosophers, to discourse thinly, but to the fullness of the rhetoricians, on both sides, so that the thing might be said more ornately and more richly; and the same man handed down the topics — for so he calls them — as, so to speak, the marks of arguments, from which all oratory might be drawn on either side.

haec igitur quaestio a propriis personis et temporibus ad universi generis rationem traducta appellatur qe/sis. In hac Aristoteles adulescentis non ad philosophorum morem tenuiter disserendi, sed ad copiam rhetorum in utramque partem, ut ornatius et uberius dici posset, exercuit; idemque locos—sic enim appellat—quasi argumentorum notas tradidit unde omnis in utramque partem traheretur oratio.

This orator of ours, then, will so act — for we are seeking not some declaimer from the school or a brawler from the Forum, but the most learned and most perfect of men — that, since fixed topics are handed down, he may run through them all, use the apt ones, and speak by classes; from which there flow also what are called the common topics. Nor indeed will he use this abundance imprudently, but will weigh everything and pick and choose; for the weight of the same arguments, drawn from the same topics, is not always nor in all cases the same.

faciet igitur hic noster—non enim declamatorem aliquem de ludo aut rabulam de foro, sed doctissimum et perfectissimum quaerimus—, ut, quoniam loci certi traduntur, percurrat omnis, utatur aptis, generatim dicat; ex quo emanent etiam qui communes appellantur loci. Nec vero utetur imprudenter hac copia, sed omnia expendet et seliget; non enim semper nec in omnibus causis ex isdem locis eadem argumentorum momenta sunt.

He will therefore bring judgment to bear, and will not only discover what to say but will also weigh it. For nothing is more fertile than men’s talents, especially those that have been cultivated by the disciplines. But just as fruitful and abundant fields pour forth not only the crops but also weeds most hostile to the crops, so sometimes from those topics there are born things that are either trivial, or foreign to the case, or of no use. Unless a great discernment of these is brought to bear by the orator’s judgment,

iudicium igitur adhibebit nec inveniet solum quid dicat sed etiam expendet. Nihil enim est feracius ingeniis, eis praesertim quae disciplinis exculta sunt. Sed ut segetes fecundae et uberes non solum fruges verum herbas etiam effundunt inimicissimas frugibus, sic interdum ex illis locis aut levia quaedam aut causis aliena aut non utilia gignuntur. Quorum ab oratoris iudicio dilectus nisi magnus adhibebitur,

how shall he cling to his strong points and dwell among them — or soften the harsh ones, or hide what cannot be explained away, and altogether suppress it, if he is allowed, or lead the minds elsewhere, or bring up some other thing which, set against it, may be more plausible than that which will stand in his way?

quonam modo ille in bonis haerebit et habitabit suis aut molliet dura aut occultabit quae dilui non poterunt atque omnino opprimet, si licebit, aut abducet animos aut aliud adferet, quod oppositum probabilius sit quam illud quod obstabit?

And then, with what care will he arrange the things he has discovered? For that was the second of the three. He will surely make the porches of his case honourable and its approaches striking; and when he has seized the minds at the first onset, he will weaken and shut out what is contrary; of his strongest points he will set some first, some last, and will hammer home the slighter ones in between.

iam vero ea quae invenerit qua diligentia conlocabit? quoniam id secundum erat de tribus. Vestibula nimirum honesta aditusque ad causam faciet inlustris; cumque animos prima adgressione occupaverit, tinfirmabit excludetque contraria; de firmissimis alia prima ponet alia postrema inculcabitque leviora.

And in the first two parts of speaking we have described, summarily and briefly, of what sort he would be. But, as was said before, in these parts, though they are weighty and great, there is less of art and of labour; whereas, when he has discovered both what to say and in what place, that is by far the greatest thing — to see in what manner. For it is a shrewd saying, which our Carneades used to make, that Clitomachus said the same things, but Charmadas said them in the same manner too. And if in philosophy it matters so much how you speak — where the substance is regarded and the words are not weighed — what, after all, must we judge in cases, which are governed entirely by the speaking?

atque in primis duabus dicendi partibus qualis esset summatim breviterque descripsimus. Sed, ut ante dictum est, in his partibus, etsi graves atque magnae sunt, minus et artis est et laboris; cum autem et quid et quo loco dicat invenerit, illud est longe maximum, videre quonam modo; scitum est enim, quod Carneades noster dicere solebat, Clitomachum eadem dicere, Charmadam autem eodem etiam modo dicere. Quod si in philosophia tantum interest quem ad modum dicas, ubi res spectatur, non verba penduntur, quid tandem in causis existimandum est quibus totis moderatur oratio?

And this indeed, Brutus, I gathered from your letter: that you were not inquiring of me what kind of orator I should wish to be supreme in discovery and in arrangement, but you seemed to me to be asking this — which kind of speech itself I judged the best: a difficult matter, by the immortal gods, and the most difficult of all. For since speech is soft and tender and so pliant that it follows wherever you turn it, the varied natures and dispositions of men have produced kinds of speaking that differ widely among themselves.

quod quidem ego, Brute, ex tuis litteris sentiebam, non te id sciscitari, qualem ego in inveniendo et in conlocando summum esse oratorem vellem, sed id mihi quaerere videbare, quod genus ipsius orationis optimum iudicarem: rem difficilem, di immortales, atque omnium difficillimam. Nam cum est oratio mollis et tenera et ita flexibilis ut sequatur quocumque torqueas, tum et naturae variae et voluntates multum inter se distantia effecerunt genera dicendi:

A stream of words and a fluency are dear to the hearts of some, who set eloquence in the speed of speech; others are delighted by intervals distinct and punctuated, by pauses and breathings: what could be so different? And yet in each there is something that excels. Some labour at smoothness and evenness and a kind of pure, white style of speaking; and behold, others pursue a certain hardness and severity in their words and, as it were, a mournfulness in their speech; and, as we divided a little before — that some wished to seem grand, others plain, others measured — there are found exactly as many kinds of orators as we said there are kinds of oratory.

flumen aliis verborum volubilitasque cordi est, qui ponunt in orationis celeritate eloquentiam; distincta alios et interpuncta intervalla, morae respirationesque delectant: quid potest esse tam diversum? tamen est in utroque aliquid excellens. Elaborant alii in lenitate et aequabilitate et puro quasi quodam et candido genere dicendi; ecce aliqui duritatem et severitatem quandam in verbis et orationis quasi maestitiam sequuntur; quodque paulo ante divisimus, ut alii graves alii tenues alii temperati vellent videri, quot orationum genera esse diximus totidem oratorum reperiuntur.

And since I have now begun to swell this office more amply than was demanded of you — for when you asked only about the kind of speech, I answered, even if briefly, about discovery and arrangement too — let me now speak not only about the manner of speech but also about the manner of delivery: so that no part will be passed over, since on the subject of memory there is nothing to be said in this place, that being common to many arts.

et quoniam coepi iam cumulatius hoc munus augere quam a te postulatum est—tibi enim tantum de orationis genere quaerenti respondi etiam breviter de inveniendo et conlocando—, ne nunc quidem solum de orationis modo dicam sed etiam de actionis: ita praetermissa pars nulla erit, quando quidem de memoria nihil est hoc loco dicen- dum, quae communis est multarum artium.

Now the manner in which a thing is said lies in two things — in the delivery and in the diction. For delivery is, as it were, a kind of eloquence of the body, since it consists of voice and movement. The variations of the voice are exactly as many as those of the soul, which is most of all moved by the voice. And so that perfect orator, whom this discourse of ours has long been pointing to, will, however he wishes himself to seem affected and the mind of the hearer to be moved, bring to bear a fixed tone of voice to that end; about which I would say more, if this were the time for laying down precepts, or if you were asking it. I would speak too of gesture, with which the face is joined; in all of which it can scarcely be said how much it matters in what manner the orator uses them.

quo modo autem dicatur, id est in duobus, in agendo et in eloquendo. Est enim actio quasi corporis quaedam eloquentia, cum constet e voce atque motu. Vocis mutationes totidem sunt quot animorum, qui maxime voce commoventur. Itaque ille perfectus, quem iam dudum nostra indicat oratio, utcumque se adfectum videri et animum audientis moveri volet, ita certum vocis admovebit sonum; de quo plura dicerem, si hoc praecipiendi tempus esset aut si tu hoc quaereres. Dicerem etiam de gestu, cum quo iunctus est vultus; quibus omnibus dici vix potest quantum intersit quem ad modum utatur orator.

For both the inarticulate have often gathered the fruit of eloquence by the dignity of their delivery, and many eloquent men have been thought inarticulate through ugliness of delivery; so that it was not without cause that Demosthenes assigned to delivery the first place, and the second, and the third. For if there is no eloquence without it, while it, without eloquence, is of such power, then surely it counts for very much in speaking. He, then, who would seek the first place in eloquence will wish both to speak fiercely with a strained voice and gently with a lowered one, and to seem grave when his voice sinks and pitiable when it bends;

nam et infantes actionis dignitate eloquentiae saepe fructum tulerunt et diserti deformitate agendi multi infantes putati sunt; ut iam non sine causa Demosthenes tribuerit et primas et secundas et tertias actioni; si enim eloquentia nulla sine hac, haec autem sine eloquentia tanta est, certe plurimum in dicendo potest. Volet igitur ille qui eloquentiae principatum petet et contenta voce atrociter dicere et summissa leniter et inclinata videri gravis et inflexa miserabilis;

for there is a wonderful nature in the voice, of which, out of three tones in all — the bending, the high, and the low — so great and so sweet a variety has been perfected in song. There is, moreover, even in speaking a certain more hidden melody — not this epilogue of the rhetoricians from Phrygia and Caria, which is almost a chant, but that which Demosthenes and Aeschines mean, when the one casts at the other his inflections of voice; Demosthenes even says that the man wailed whom he repeatedly says had a voice sweet and clear.

mira est enim quaedam natura vocis, cuius quidem e tribus omnino sonis, inflexo acuto gravi, tanta sit et tam suavis varietas perfecta in cantibus. est autem etiam in dicendo quidam cantus obscurior, non hic e Phrygia et Caria rhetorum epilogus paene canticum, sed ille quem significat Demosthenes et Aeschines, cum alter alteri obicit vocis flexiones; dicit plorare etiam Demosthenes istum quem saepe dicat voce dulci et clara fuisse.

On which point this too seems to me worth noting, toward the pursuit of sweetness in the voice: that nature herself, as though she were tuning the speech of men, has placed in every word the acute tone, and not more than one, nor farther back from the last syllable than the third; so that industry should the more follow nature as its guide to the pleasure of the ears.

in quo illud etiam notandum mihi videtur ad studium persequendae suavitatis in vocibus: ipsa enim natura, quasi modularetur hominum orationem, in omni verbo posuit acutam vocem nec una plus nec a postrema syllaba citra tertiam; quo magis naturam ducem ad aurium voluptatem sequatur industria.

And the goodness of the voice, indeed, is to be wished for; for it is not in our power, but the management and use of it is in our power. Therefore that foremost orator will vary and change it: he will run through all the degrees of sound, now straining, now relaxing them. And he will so use movement that nothing is superfluous. In gesture, the posture upright and lofty; the pacing rare and not too long; the advance moderate and that rarely; no softness of the neck, no nimbleness of the fingers, no joint falling to a beat; ruling himself rather by his whole trunk and by a manly bending of the flanks, by a thrusting forth of the arm in heated passages and a drawing in of it in the calmer ones.

ac vocis quidem bonitas optanda est; non est enim in nobis, sed tractatio atque usus in nobis. Ergo ille princeps variabit et mutabit: omnis sonorum tum intendens tum remittens persequetur gradus. Idemque motu sic utetur, nihil ut supersit. In gestu status erectus et celsus; rarus incessus nec ita longus; excursio moderata eaque rara; nulla mollitia cervicum, nullae argutiae digitorum, non ad numerum articulus cadens; trunco magis toto se ipse moderans et virili laterum flexione, bracchii proiectione in contentionibus, contractione in remissis.

As for the face, which after the voice has the most power, what dignity, and what charm besides, it will bring! And when in it you have brought it about that there is nothing inept or grimacing, then there is a certain great control of the eyes. For as the face is the image of the soul, so the eyes are its interpreters; and the measure of their cheerfulness and, in turn, of their sadness will be tempered by the very matters that are being treated.

vultus vero, qui secundum vocem plurimum potest, quantam adferet tum dignitatem tum venustatem! in quo cum effeceris ne quid ineptum sit aut vultuosum, tum oculorum est quaedam magna moderatio. Nam ut imago est animi vultus, sic indices oculi; quorum et hilaritatis et vicissim tristitiae modum res ipsae de quibus agetur temperabunt.

But now I must sketch the likeness of that perfect orator and of supreme eloquence. That he excels in this one thing alone — in speech — while everything else lies hidden within him, the very name declares: for the man who has embraced all these arts is not called inventor or arranger or performer, but in Greek, from the act of speaking out, rhêtôr, and in Latin "eloquent." Of the other endowments that belong to the orator each man claims some share for himself; but the highest power of speaking — that is, of expressing in words — is granted to him alone.

sed iam illius perfecti oratoris et summae eloquentiae species exprimenda est. Quem hoc uno excellere id est oratione, cetera in eo latere indicat nomen ipsum; non enim inventor aut compositor aut actor qui haec complexus est omnia, sed et Graece ab eloquendo r(h/twr et Latine eloquens dictus est; ceterarum enim rerum quae sunt in oratore partem aliquam sibi quisque vindicat, dicendi autem, id est eloquendi, maxima vis soli huic conceditur.

For although certain philosophers too have spoken with ornament — since Theophrastus drew his very name from the divinity of his speech, and Aristotle challenged Isocrates himself, and they say the Muses spoke as if with the voice of Xenophon, and Plato stood out by far above all who have ever written or spoken, first in both sweetness and weight — still, the speech of these men has neither the sinews nor the stings of the orator and of the courts.

quamquam enim et philosophi quidam ornate locuti sunt—si quidem et Theophrastus a divinitate loquendi nomen invenit et Aristoteles Isocratem ipsum lacessivit et Xenophontis voce Musas quasi locutas ferunt et longe omnium quicumque scripserunt aut locuti sunt exstitit et suavitate et gravitate princeps Plato—, tamen horum oratio neque nervos neque aculeos oratorios ac forensis habet.

They talk with the learned, whose minds they prefer to soothe rather than to rouse; and they talk of subjects untroubled and quite unstormy, for the sake of teaching, not of capturing — so that in the very thing whereby they go fishing for some pleasure in their speaking, they may seem to some to do more than is needful. From this kind, then, it is not hard to distinguish the eloquence with which we are now concerned.

loquuntur cum doctis, quorum sedare animos malunt quam incitare, et de rebus placatis ac minime turbulentis docendi causa non capiendi loquuntur, ut in eo ipso, quod delectationem aliquam dicendo aucupentur, plus non nullis quam necesse sit facere videantur. Ergo ab hoc genere non difficile est hanc eloquentiam, de qua nunc agitur, secernere.

For the speech of the philosophers is soft and shadowed, furnished with neither thoughts nor words drawn from the people, nor bound by rhythms, but loosed more freely; it has nothing angry, nothing spiteful, nothing fierce, nothing piteous, nothing cunning — chaste, modest, an unspoiled maiden, so to speak. And so it is called conversation rather than oratory. For although all speech is "speaking," still the speaking of the orator alone is marked by this special name.

mollis est enim oratio philosophorum et umbratilis nec sententiis nec verbis instructa popularibus nec vincta numeris, sed soluta liberius; nihil iratum habet, nihil invidum, nihil atrox, nihil miserabile, nihil astutum; casta, verecunda, virgo incorrupta quodam modo. Itaque sermo potius quam oratio dicitur. Quamquam enim omnis locutio oratio est, tamen unius oratoris locutio hoc proprio signata nomine est.

The likeness of the Sophists, of whom I spoke above, seems to need sharper distinguishing, since they all want to pursue those same flowers that the orator employs in his cases. But they differ in this: that, since their aim is not to trouble men’s minds but rather to calm them, and not so much to persuade as to delight, they do this both more openly than we do and more often; they seek out thoughts that are neatly turned rather than convincing, they often wander from the matter, they weave in tales, they transfer words too far afield and arrange them as painters arrange a variety of colours, they match equal with equal, set opposite against contrary, and very often round off the ends of clauses alike.

sophistarum, de quibus supra dixi, magis distinguenda similitudo videtur, qui omnes eosdem volunt flores quos adhibet orator in causis persequi. Sed hoc differunt quod, cum sit his propositum non perturbare animos, sed placare potius nec tam persuadere quam delectare, et apertius id faciunt quam nos et crebrius, concinnas magis sententias exquirunt quam probabilis, a re saepe discedunt, intexunt fabulas, verba altius transferunt eaque ita disponunt ut pictores varietatem colorum, paria paribus referunt, adversa contrariis, saepissimeque similiter extrema definiunt.

Close to this kind is history, in which the narrative too is given with ornament, and often a region or a battle is described; speeches and exhortations are even inserted, but in these a certain drawn-out and flowing style is sought, not this twisted and keen oratory. From these writers this eloquence which we seek is to be called away, not much otherwise than from the poets. For the poets too have raised the question what it was that set them apart from the orators: rhythm and verse seemed chiefly to do so in earlier times, but now among the orators rhythm itself has grown common.

huic generi historia finitima est, in qua et narratur ornate et regio saepe aut pugna describitur; interponuntur etiam contiones et hortationes, sed in his tracta quaedam et fluens expetitur, non haec contorta et acris oratio. ab his non multo secus quam a poetis haec eloquentia quam quaerimus sevocanda est. Nam etiam poetae quaestionem attulerunt, quidnam esset illud quo ipsi differrent ab oratoribus: numero maxime videbantur antea et versu, nunc apud oratores iam ipse numerus increbruit.

For whatever falls under some measure of the ear — even if it is wanting in verse, for that, in oratory, is indeed a fault — is called rhythm, which in Greek is termed rhythmos. And so I see it has seemed to some that the speech of Plato and Democritus, though it is wanting in verse, is yet to be reckoned poetry rather than that of the comic poets, because it moves with more impetus and uses the most brilliant lights of words; whereas in the comic poets there is nothing, save that they have their little verses, that differs from everyday conversation. And yet this is not what is greatest in a poet — although he is the more praiseworthy for pursuing the orator’s virtues even while he is more closely bound by verse.

quicquid est enim quod sub aurium mensuram aliquam cadit, etiam si abest a versu—nam id quidem orationis est vitium—numerus vocatur, qui Graece r(uqmo dicitur. Itaque video visum esse non nullis Platonis et Democriti locutionem, etsi absit a versu, tamen quod incitatius feratur et clarissimis verborum luminibus utatur, potius poema putandum quam comicorum poetarum; apud quos, nisi quod versiculi sunt, nihil est aliud cotidiani dissimile sermonis. Nec tamen id est poetae maximum, etsi est eo laudabilior quod virtutes oratoris persequitur, cum versu sit astrictior.

For my own part, even if the voice of certain poets is grand and ornamented, still I hold that in it there is a greater licence than in us for making and joining words; and also that not a few of them serve their wish more by words than by matter. Nor indeed, if there is some one thing alike between them — and that is the judgment and choice of words — can the unlikeness of everything else for that reason not be perceived. But this is beyond doubt; and if it holds any matter for question, that very point is yet not necessary to what is set before us. The orator, then, set apart from the eloquence of the philosophers, of the Sophists, of the historians, of the poets, must be expounded by us as to what he is to be.

ego autem, etiam si quorundam grandis et ornata vox est poetarum, tamen in ea cum licentiam statuo maiorem esse quam in nobis faciendorum iungendorumque verborum, tum etiam non nulli eorum voluntati vocibus magis quam rebus inserviunt; nec vero, si quid est unum inter eos simile—id autem est iudicium electioque verborum—, propterea cete- rarum rerum dissimilitudo intellegi non potest; sed id nec dubium est et, si quid habet quaestionis, hoc tamen ipsum ad id quod propositum est non est necessarium. Seiunctus igitur orator a philosophorum eloquentia, a sophistarum, ab historicorum, a poetarum explicandus est nobis qualis futurus sit.

He will be eloquent, then — for it is this man we seek, on Antonius’ authority — who in the Forum and in civil cases will so speak as to prove, to delight, to sway. To prove is a matter of necessity, to delight of charm, to sway of victory: for this one thing of all has the most power toward winning cases. But as many as are the duties of the orator, so many are the kinds of speaking: the plain in proving, the moderate in delighting, the vehement in swaying; and in this one thing lies all the orator’s force.

erit igitur eloquens—hunc enim auctore Antonio quaerimus—is qui in foro causisque civilibus ita dicet, ut probet, ut delectet, ut flectat. Probare necessitatis est, delectare suavitatis, flectere victoriae: nam id unum ex omnibus ad obtinendas causas potest plurimum. Sed quot officia oratoris, tot sunt genera dicendi: subtile in probando, modicum in delectando, vehemens in flectendo; in quo uno vis omnis oratoris est.

He, then, who is to govern and, as it were, temper this threefold variety will need great judgment and the highest faculty besides; for he will both decide what each thing requires and be able to speak in whatever way the case shall demand. But the foundation of eloquence, as of all else, is wisdom. For as in life, so in speech, nothing is harder than to see what is fitting. The Greeks call this prepon; let us by all means call it "propriety." On it many fine precepts are given, and the matter is most worthy of study; through ignorance of it men go astray not only in life but very often in poetry and in oratory too.

magni igitur iudici, summae etiam facultatis esse debebit moderator ille et quasi temperator huius tripertitae varietatis; nam et iudicabit quid cuique opus sit et poterit quocumque modo postulabit causa dicere. Sed est eloquentiae sicut reliquarum rerum fundamentum sapientia. Vt enim in vita sic in oratione nihil est difficilius quam quid deceat videre. Pre/pon appellant hoc Graeci, nos dicamus sane decorum; de quo praeclare et multa praecipiuntur et res est cognitione dignissima; huius ignoratione non modo in vita sed saepissime et in poematis et in oratione peccatur.

Now what is fitting must be looked to by the orator not only in his thoughts but also in his words. For not every fortune, not every rank, not every authority, not every age — nor indeed every place or season or hearer — is to be handled with the same kind of words or of thoughts; and always, in every part of a speech as of life, one must consider what is fitting. This depends both on the matter under discussion and on the persons both of those who speak and of those who hear.

est autem quid deceat oratori videndum non in sententiis solum sed etiam in verbis. Non enim omnis fortuna, non omnis honos, non omnis auctoritas, non omnis aetas nec vero locus aut tempus aut auditor omnis eodem aut verborum genere tractandus est aut sententiarum semperque in omni parte orationis ut vitae quid deceat est considerandum; quod et in re de qua agitur positum est et in personis eteorum qui dicunt et eorum qui audiunt.

And so the philosophers are wont to treat this topic — which extends far and wide — in their discourses on duties, though not when they dispute about the right itself, for that is a single thing; the grammarians treat it in the poets; the eloquent in every kind and every part of cases. For how unfitting it is, when you are pleading about rain-water dripping from the eaves before a single judge, to use the most ample words and commonplaces, or to speak of the majesty of the Roman people in a lowered and plain manner! Here men err in the whole kind, but others err in the person — their own, or the judges’, or even their adversaries’ — and not only in matter but often in a word; for although without matter a word has no force, still the same matter is often either approved or rejected as it is set forth in one word and another.

itaque hunc locum longe et late patentem philosophi solent in officiis tractare—non cum de recto ipso disputant, nam id quidem unum est—, grammatici in poetis, eloquentes in omni et genere et parte causarum. Quam enim indecorum est, de stillicidiis cum apud unum iudicem dicas, amplissimis verbis et locis uti communibus, de maiestate populi Romani summisse et subtiliter! hic genere toto, at persona alii peccant aut sua aut iudicum aut etiam adversariorum, nec re solum sed saepe verbo; etsi sine re nulla vis verbi est, tamen eadem res saepe aut probatur aut reicitur alio atque alio elata verbo.

And in all things one must see how far to go; for although each thing has its own measure, still too much offends more than too little. In this Apelles used to say that those painters too went wrong who did not feel what was enough. This is a great topic, Brutus — as is not lost on you — and it calls for another great volume; but for what is at hand, this much is enough. When we say that this is fitting — a thing we constantly invoke in all that is said and done, in matters least and greatest — when, I say, we say that this is fitting and that is not fitting, the magnitude of the principle appears at every turn, and it is one thing and a wholly other whether you say "fitting" or "obligatory." For "obligatory" declares the perfection of duty,

in omnibusque rebus videndum est quatenus; etsi enim suus cuique modus est, tamen magis offendit nimium quam parum; in quo Apelles pictores quoque eos peccare dicebat qui non sentirent quid esset satis. Magnus est locus hic, Brute, quod te non fugit, et magnum volumen aliud desiderat; sed ad id quod agitur illud satis Cum hoc decere—quod semper usurpamus in omnibus dictis et factis, minimis et maximis—cum hoc, inquam, decere dicimus, illud non decere, et id usquequaque quantum sit appareat in alioque ponatur aliudque totum sit, utrum decere an oportere dicas;—oportere enim perfectionem declarat offici,

which is always to be observed and by all; whereas "fitting" is, as it were, to be apt and consonant with the season and the person. This holds good very often in deeds and likewise in words, and finally in the face and gesture and gait — and "unfitting," conversely, in the same. If the poet flees this as the greatest of faults — the poet who goes wrong even when he frames the speech of an upright man for a base one, or of a wise man for a fool; if, finally, that painter saw, when at the sacrifice of Iphigenia Calchas was sorrowful, Ulysses more sorrowful, Menelaus grieving, that Agamemnon’s head must be veiled, since he could not represent that supreme grief with his brush; if, finally, the actor seeks out what is fitting — what are we to think the orator must do? But since this is so great a thing, let the orator see for himself what he is to do in his cases and in their members, so to speak: this at least is clear, that not only the parts of a speech but whole cases too are to be handled, one in one form of speaking, another in another.

quo et semper utendum est et omnibus, decere quasi aptum esse consentaneumque tempori et personae; quod cum in factis saepissime tum in dictis valet, in vultu denique et gestu et incessu, contraque item dedecere; quod si poeta fugit ut maximum vitium, qui peccat etiam, cum probi orationem adfingit improbo stultove sapientis; si denique pictor ille vidit, cum in immolanda Iphigenia tristis Calchas esset, tristior Vlixes, maereret Menelaus, obvolvendum ca- put Agamemnonis esse, quoniam summum ilium luctum penicillo non posset imitari; si denique histrio quid deceat quaerit, quid faciendum oratori putemus?—sed cum hoc tantum sit, quid in causis earumque quasi membris faciat orator viderit: illud quidem perspicuum est, non modo partis orationis sed etiam causas totas alias alia forma dicendi esse tractandas.

It follows that the mark and pattern of each kind should be sought: a great task and a hard one, as I have already often said; but for those setting out, what we were undertaking had to be weighed, while now indeed, wherever we are carried, the sails must surely be spread. And first the one whom alone, in truth, they call "Attic" must be formed by us.

sequitur ut cuiusque generis nota quaeratur et formula: magnum opus et arduum, ut saepe iam diximus; sed ingredientibus considerandum fuit quid ageremus, nunc quidem iam quocumque feremur danda nimirum vela sunt. Ac primum informandus est ille nobis quem solum quidem vocant Atticum.

He is lowered and unassuming, imitating ordinary usage, differing from the unskilled more in fact than in seeming. And so those who hear him, however tongue-tied they themselves may be, are nonetheless confident that they can speak in that manner. For the plainness of such oratory does indeed seem imitable to one who judges, but nothing is less so to one who tries. For although it is not of the fullest blood, still it ought to have some sap, so that, even if it lacks those greatest powers, it may be, so to speak, of sound health.

summissus est et humilis, consuetudinem imitans, ab indisertis re plus quam opinione differens. Itaque eum qui audiunt, quamvis ipsi infantes sint, tamen illo modo confidunt se posse dicere. Nam orationis subtilitas imitabilis illa quidem videtur esse existimanti, sed nihil est experienti minus. Etsi enim non plurimi sanguinis est, habeat tamen sucum aliquem oportet, ut, etiam si illis maximis viribus careat, sit, ut ita dicam, integra valetudine.

First, then, let us free him as if from the bonds of rhythm. For there are, as you know, certain oratorical rhythms, of which we shall treat presently, to be observed by a certain method — but in another kind of speaking; in this one they are to be wholly relinquished. Let there be something loosed, yet not adrift, so that he may seem to walk freely, not to wander licentiously. Let him neglect even to cement word to word, as it were. For that gaping and clashing of vowels, so to speak, has a certain softness in it, and something that betokens a not unwelcome carelessness in a man who labours over his matter more than over his words.

primum igitur eum tamquam e vinculis numerorum eximamus. Sunt enim quidam, ut scis, oratorii numeri, de quibus mox agemus, observandi ratione quadam, sed alio in genere orationis, in hoc omnino relinquendi. Solutum quiddam sit nec vagum tamen, ut ingredi libere, non ut licenter videatur errare. Verba etiam verbis quasi coagmentare neglegat. Habet enim ille tamquam hiatus et concursus vocalium molle quiddam et quod indicet non ingratam neglegentiam de re hominis magis quam de verbis laborantis.

But there will be the rest to look to, once these two have been left more free to him: the periodic structure and the gluing-together of words. For those very contracted and minute things are not to be handled carelessly, but there is even a kind of carelessness that is careful. For as some women are said to be unadorned, as though that very thing became them, so this plain oratory pleases even when uncombed; for in both there happens something whereby it is the more charming, but not so as to show. Then all conspicuous ornament, like that of pearls, will be removed;

sed erit videndum de reliquis, cum haec duo ei liberiora fuerint, circuitus conglutinatioque verborum. Illa enim ipsa contracta et minuta non neglegenter tractanda sunt, sed quaedam etiam neglegentia est diligens. Nam ut mulieres esse dicuntur non nullae inornatae, quasi id ipsum deceat, sic haec subtilis oratio etiam incompta delectat; fit enim quiddam in utroque, quo sit venustius, sed non ut appareat. Tum removebitur omnis insignis ornatus quasi margaritarum,

not even the curling-irons will be applied; all the cosmetics of a false fairness and flush will be repelled; only elegance and neatness will remain. The diction will be pure and Latin, the speech lucid and plain, and what is fitting will be looked round for; one thing will be absent — that which Theophrastus reckons fourth among the merits of speech: ornament, that sweet and abundant thing. Sharp and frequent thoughts will be set down, and dug out from somewhere in concealment; and — what will rule in this orator — there will be a modest use of the orator’s furniture, so to speak.

ne calamistri quidem adhibebuntur; fucati vero medicamenta candoris et ruboris omnia repellentur; elegantia modo et munditia remanebit. Sermo purus erit et Latinus, dilucide planeque dicetur, quid deceat circumspicietur; unum aberit, quod quartum numerat Theophrastus in orationis laudibus: ornatum illud, suave et adfluens. Acutae crebraeque sententiae ponentur et nescio unde ex abdito erutae; ac—quod in hoc oratore dominabitur—verecundus erit usus oratoriae quasi supellectilis.

For there is in a manner our own furniture, which lies in ornaments — one kind belonging to matters, another to words. The ornament of words is twofold: one of single words, the other of words in combination. The single word is approved among words proper and customary when it either sounds best or makes the matter clearest; among words not proper, when it is transferred and made from elsewhere, as if on loan, or made by the speaker himself and new, or ancient and unaccustomed; but even the unaccustomed and ancient are among the proper, save that we use them rarely.

supellex est enim quodam modo nostra, quae est in ornamentis, alia rerum alia verborum. Ornatus autem verborum duplex: unus simplicium alter conlocatorum. Simplex probatur in propriis usitatisque verbis, quod aut optime sonat aut rem maxime explanat; in alienis aut translatum et factum aliunde ut mutuo, aut factum ab ipso ac novum aut priscum et inusitatum; sed etiam inusitata ac prisca sunt in propriis, nisi quod raro utimur.

Words in combination, on the other hand, have ornament if they produce some symmetry — something that does not survive a change of words while the thought survives. For the ornaments of thought, which abide even if you have changed the words, are indeed very many, but those that stand out are fewer. Therefore that slender orator, provided he be elegant, will neither be bold in coining words and will be modest and sparing in transferring them and in using ancient ones, and rather restrained in the rest of the ornaments both of words and of thoughts; in metaphor he will perhaps be the more frequent, since all speech uses it most often, not only of city folk but even of country folk — seeing that it is theirs to say that the vines "bud with gems," that the fields "thirst," that the crops "are glad," that the grain "runs riot."

conlocata autem verba habent ornatum, si aliquid concinnitatis efficiunt, quod verbis mutatis non maneat manente sententia; nam sententiarum ornamenta quae permanent, etiam si verba mutaveris, sunt illa quidem permulta, sed quae emineant pauciora. ergo ille tenuis orator, modo sit elegans, nec in faciendis verbis erit audax et in transferendis verecundus et parcus et in priscis in reliquisque ornamentis et verborum et sententiarum demissior; ea translatione fortasse crebrior, qua frequentissime sermo omnis utitur non modo urbanorum, sed etiam rusticorum: si quidem est eorum gemmare vitis, sitire agros, laetas esse segetes, luxuriosa frumenta.

None of these is too bold, since the term is either like that from which you transfer it, or, if the thing has no name of its own, is taken for the sake of teaching, not of play. Of this ornament our plain man will make a little freer use than of the rest, yet not so licentiously as if he were using the most ample kind of speaking; and so the unfitting — whose nature must be understood from the fitting — appears here too, when some word is transferred too loftily and is set in lowly speech, the very word that in another style would be fitting.

nihil horum parum audacter, sed aut simile est illi unde transferas, aut si res suum nullum habet nomen, docendi causa sumptum, non ludendi videtur. Hoc ornamento liberius paulo quam ceteris utetur hic summissus, nec tam licenter tamen quam si genere dicendi uteretur amplissimo; itaque illud indecorum, quod quale sit ex decoro debet intellegi, hic quoque apparet, cum verbum aliquod altius transfertur idque in oratione humili ponitur quod idem in alia deceret.

As for that symmetry which lights up the arrangement of words with those lights which the Greeks call the gestures of speech, as it were — schêmata, the same word being transferred by them also to the ornaments of thought — this plain orator does indeed employ it (whom some, however wrongly in other respects, rightly call "Attic" on this one ground alone), but a little more sparingly; for, just as at a banquet’s furnishing one who draws back from magnificence will wish to seem not only sparing but also elegant, so he will choose what he is to use.

illam autem concinnitatem, quae verborum conlocationem inluminat eis luminibus quae Graeci quasi aliquos gestus orationis sxh/mata appellant, quod idem verbum ab eis etiam in sententiarum ornamenta transfertur, adhibet hic quidem subtilis, quem nisi quod solum ceteroqui recte quidam vocant Atticum, sed paulo parcius; nam sic ut in epularum apparatu a magnificentia recedens non se parcum solum sed etiam elegantem videri volet, et eliget quibus utatur;

For most things suit the very thrift of this orator of whom I speak. For those things of which I spoke before are to be shunned by this keen man: clauses matched with clauses and closed off alike and falling in the same fashion, and charms got, as it were, by the changing of a letter — lest a laboured symmetry and a manifest hunting after delight be caught in the act and show.

sunt enim pleraque apta huius ipsius oratoris de quo loquor parsimoniae. Nam illa de quibus ante dixi huic acuto fugienda sunt: paria paribus relata et similiter conclusa eodemque pacto cadentia et immutatione litterae quasi quaesitae venustates, ne elaborata concinnitas et quoddam aucupium delectationis manifesto deprehensum appareat;

Likewise, if any repetitions of words call for some straining of the voice and an outcry, they will be alien to this lowered manner of speaking; the rest he will be able to use without restriction, only let him loosen and divide the continuous run of words, and use words as customary as may be, and metaphors as soft as may be; he will take up even those lights of thought which will not be vehemently brilliant. He will not bring the commonwealth on to speak, nor raise the dead from the underworld, nor heap up many points crowded together and bind them in a single embrace. These belong to stronger lungs, and are neither to be expected nor demanded of the man we are forming; for he will be, in his speech as in his voice, the more subdued.

itemque si quae verborum iterationes contentionem aliquam et clamorem requirent, erunt ab hac summissione orationis alienae; ceteris promiscue poterit uti, continuationem verborum modo relaxet et dividat utaturque verbis quam usitatissimis, translationibus quam mollissimis; etiam illa sententiarum lumina adsumet, quae non erunt vehementer inlustria. Non faciet rem publicam loquentem nec ab inferis mortuos excitabit nec acervatim multa frequentans una complexione devinciet. Valentiorum haec laterum sunt nec ab hoc, quem informamus, aut exspectanda aut postulanda; erit enim ut voce sic etiam oratione suppressior.

But most of the things from those grander styles will suit even this slenderness, although he will use the same ornaments more roughly; for such is the man we bring forward. His delivery will be added — not tragic nor of the stage, but with a moderate movement of the body, while accomplishing much by the face nonetheless; not in that way by which they say one "pulls a face," but in the one whereby they show with candour in what sense they pronounce each thing.

sed pleraque ex ills convenient etiam huic tenuitati, quamquam isdem ornamentis utetur horridius; talem enim inducimus. Accedet actio non tragica nec scaenae, sed modica iactatione corporis, vultu tamen multa conficiens; non hoc quo dicuntur os ducere, sed illo quo significant ingenue quo sensu quidque pronuntient.

On this kind of oratory wit too will be sprinkled, which counts for ever so much in speaking. Of it there are two kinds: one of pleasantry, the other of raillery. He will use both: the one in telling something with charm, the other in casting and launching a jest, of which the kinds are several; but at present we are about another matter.

huic generi orationis aspergentur etiam sales, qui in dicendo nimium quantum valent; quorum duo genera sunt, unum facetiarum, alterum dicacitatis. Vtetur utroque; sed altero in narrando aliquid venuste, altero in iaciendo mittendoque ridiculo, cuius genera plura sunt; sed nunc aliud agimus.

This much, however, we do urge: that the orator will so use the ridiculous as to make it neither too frequent, lest it be buffoonish, nor a little obscene, lest it be like the mime, nor petulant, lest it be base, nor aimed at calamity, lest it be inhuman, nor aimed at crime, lest laughter usurp the place of hatred, and as nothing alien either to his own person or to the judges’ or to the occasion. For these are all referred to that unfitting we spoke of.

illud admonemus tamen ridiculo sic usurum oratorem ut nec nimis frequenti ne scurrile sit, nec subobsceno ne mimicum, nec petulanti ne improbum, nec in calamitatem ne inhumanum, nec in facinus ne odii locum risus occupet, neque aut sua persona aut iudicum aut tempore alienum. Haec enim ad illud indecorum referuntur.

He will also shun jests that are sought out and fabricated not on the spur of the moment but brought from home, which for the most part fall flat. He will spare both friendships and high stations, will shun incurable insults, will only strike at his adversaries — and not even those always, nor all of them, nor in every way. With these exceptions he will so use wit and pleasantry that, for my part, I have known no such man among those new Atticists of yours, though that is surely Attic above all else.

vitabit etiam quaesita nec ex tempore ficta, sed domo adlata, quae plerumque sunt frigida. Parcet et amicitiis et dignitatibus, vitabit insanabilis contumelias, tantum modo adversarios figet nec eos tamen semper nec omnis nec omni modo. Quibus exceptis sic utetur sale et facetiis, ut ego ex istis novis Atticis talem cognoverim neminem, cum id certe sit vel maxime Atticum.

This I judge to be the form of the plain orator — yet a great one too, and a genuine Attic; since whatever is salty or wholesome in a speech is the property of the Attics. Yet of them not all are witty: Lysias is sufficiently so, and Hyperides; Demades is reported beyond the rest; Demosthenes is held to have less of it — though to me nothing seems more urbane than he, but he was not so given to raillery as to pleasantry. The one is the mark of a keener wit, the other of a greater art.

hanc ego iudico formam summissi oratoris, sed magni tamen et germani Attici; quoniam quicquid est salsum aut salubre in oratione, id proprium Atticorum est. E quibus tamen non omnes faceti: Lysias satis et Hyperides, Demades praeter ceteros fertur, Demosthenes minus habetur; quo quidem mihi nihil videtur urbanius, sed non tam dicax fuit quam facetus; est autem illud acrioris ingeni, hoc maioris artis.

The second style is fuller and considerably more robust than the plain one of which I have spoken, yet more restrained than the grandest, of which I shall speak presently. In this kind there is the least, perhaps, of sinew, but the most of sweetness. For it is richer than the lean style, and more restrained than the ornate and copious one.

vberius est aliud aliquantoque robustius quam hoc humile de quo dictum est, summissius autem quam illud de quo iam dicetur amplissimum. Hoc in genere nervorum vel minimum, suavitatis autem est vel plurimum. Est enim plenius quam hoc enucleatum, quam autem illud ornatum copiosumque summissius.

To this style all the ornaments of speech are suited, and in this form of oratory there is the greatest charm. In it many flourished among the Greeks, but in my judgment Demetrius of Phalerum surpassed the rest; for while his speech flows on calmly and quietly, it is at the same time lit up, as if by certain stars, with words transferred and altered. By transferred I mean — as I have often said by now — those words which by likeness are carried over from another thing, whether for the sake of sweetness or out of poverty of language; by altered, those in which, in place of the proper word, another is substituted which means the same, drawn from some kindred thing.

huic omnia dicendi ornamenta conveniunt plurimumque est in hac orationis forma suavitatis. In qua multi floruerunt apud Graecos, sed Phalereus Demetrius meo iudicio praestitit ceteris, cuius oratio cum sedate placideque liquitur, tum inlustrant eam quasi stellae quaedam translata verba atque immutata. Translata dico, ut saepe iam, quae per similitudinem ab alia re aut suavitatis aut inopiae causa transferuntur; immutata, in quibus pro verbo proprio subicitur aliud quod idem significet sumptum ex re aliqua consequenti.

And although this too is done by transference, yet Ennius transferred in one way when he said I am bereft of citadel and city, and would have transferred in another had he said “citadel” for “country”; and when he says rugged Africa trembles with a fearful tumult, he uses “Africa” for “the Africans” by alteration. This figure the rhetoricians call hypallage hypallagē, because words are as it were exchanged for words; the grammarians call it metonymy metōnymia,

quod quamquam transferendo fit, tamen alio modo transtulit cum dixit Ennius arce et urbe orba sum, alio modo, si pro patria arcem dixisset; et horridam Africam terribili tremere tumultu cum dicit pro Afris immutate Africam: hanc u(pallagh/n rhetores, quia quasi summutantur verba pro verbis, metwnumi/an grammatici vocant,

because nouns are transferred. Aristotle, however, ranks both these under transference, along with what he calls catachresis katachrēsis — abuse of a word — as when we call a soul “shrunken” instead of “small”; and we misuse neighboring words, if there is need, either because it pleases or because it is fitting. And when several transferences have flowed on without a break, the speech becomes plainly something else; this kind, accordingly, the Greeks call allegory allēgoria — rightly so in name, but in its genus better understood by the man who calls all such things transferences. Demetrius uses these very frequently, and they are most delightful; and although transference is abundant in him, alterations are nowhere thicker.

quod nomina transferuntur; Aristoteles autem translationi et haec ipsa subiungit et abusionem, quam kata/xrhsin vocat, ut cum minutum dicimus animum pro parvo; et abutimur verbis propinquis, si opus est vel quod delectat vel quod decet. Iam cum fluxerunt continuo plures translationes, alia plane fit oratio; itaque genus hoc Graeci appellant a)llhgori/an: nomine recte, genere melius ille qui ista omnia translationes vocat. Haec frequentat Phalereus maxime suntque dulcissima; et quamquam translatio est apud eum multa, tamen immutationes nusquam crebriores.

Into this same style of speech — for I am speaking of the moderate and tempered kind — fall all the brilliances of words and many of thought as well; by it broad and learned discussions will be unfolded, and the commonplaces will be delivered without strain. In short, such men generally come out of the schools of the philosophers; and unless that stronger speaker is set up beside him for comparison, this one of whom I speak will win approval on his own.

in idem genus orationis—loquor enim de illa modica ac temperata—verborum cadunt lumina omnia, multa etiam sententiarum; latae eruditaeque disputationes ab eodem explicabuntur et loci communes sine contentione dicentur. Quid multa? e philosophorum scholis tales fere evadunt; et nisi coram erit comparatus ille fortior, per se hic quem dico probabitur.

For there is besides a certain distinguished and flowering style of speech, painted and polished, in which all the graces of words, all the graces of thought, are woven in. This whole style flowed down into the Forum from the springs of the sophists, but, scorned by the subtle and rebuffed by the weighty, it has settled into that middle ground of which I am speaking.

est enim quoddam etiam insigne et florens orationis pictum et expolitum genus, in quo omnes verborum, omnes sententiarum inligantur lepores. Hoc totum e sophistarum fontibus defluxit in forum, sed spretum a subtilibus, repulsum a gravibus in ea de qua loquor mediocritate consedit.

The third style is the ample, the copious, the weighty, the ornate, in which surely lies the greatest power. This is the eloquence whose ornament and abundance of speech the admiring nations have allowed to prevail most of all in their states — but this eloquence, the kind that is carried along with a great rushing and a sounding, the kind all looked up to, marveled at, and despaired of attaining for themselves. It belongs to this eloquence to work upon men’s minds, to move them by every means. Now it shatters, now it steals into the senses; it implants new convictions, and tears out those that are rooted.

tertius est ille amplus copiosus, gravis ornatus, in quo profecto vis maxima est. Hic est enim, cuius ornatum dicendi et copiam admiratae gentes eloquentiam in civitatibus plurimum valere passae sunt, sed hanc eloquentiam, quae cursu magno sonituque ferretur, quam suspicerent omnes, quam admirarentur, quam se adsequi posse diffiderent. Huius eloquentiae est tractare animos, huius omni modo permovere. Haec modo perfringit, modo inrepit in sensus; inserit novas opiniones, evellit insitas.

But there is a great difference between this style of speech and the earlier ones. The man who has labored at that subtle and sharp style, so as to speak shrewdly and pointedly, and has aimed at nothing higher, is, once he has perfected this one thing, a great orator — and, if not the greatest, at least he will tread on the least slippery ground, and, once he has stood firm, will never fall. As for the middle speaker, the one I call moderate and tempered, provided only that he has equipped himself well in that style, he will not dread the doubtful and uncertain hazards of speaking; even if at times he succeeds less, as often happens, he will yet run no great risk — for he cannot fall from any height.

sed multum interest inter hoc dicendi genus et superiora. Qui in illo subtili et acuto elaboravit ut callide arguteque diceret, nec quicquam altius cogitavit, hoc uno perfecto magnus orator est, et si non maximus; minimeque in lubrico versabitur et, si semel constiterit, numquam cadet. Medius ille autem, quem modicum et temperatum voco, si modo suum illud satis instruxerit, non extimescet ancipites dicendi incertosque casus; etiam si quando minus succedet, ut saepe fit, magnum tamen periculum non adibit: alte enim cadere non potest.

But this orator of ours, whom we set in the first place — weighty, keen, aflame — if he was born for this one thing alone, or has trained himself in this alone, or has devoted himself to this single kind, and has not tempered his abundance with those other two styles, deserves the utmost contempt. For the restrained speaker, because he speaks shrewdly and with old craft, already passes for wise; the middle one is charming; but this most copious speaker, if he is nothing else, is apt to seem scarcely sane. For a man who can say nothing calmly, nothing gently, nothing in an ordered, defined, distinct, and witty manner — especially when cases must be handled partly whole in that manner, partly in some one part — if such a man, before his hearers’ ears are prepared, begins to set the matter ablaze, he seems to rave among the sane and, like a drunken man, to reel as if among the sober.

at vero hic noster, quem principem ponimus, gravis acer ardens, si ad hoc unum est natus aut in hoc solo se exercuit aut huic generi studuit uni nec suam copiam cum illis duobus generibus temperavit, maxime est contemnendus. Ille enim summissus, quod acute et veteratorie dicit, sapiens iam, medius suavis, hic autem copiosissimus, si nihil aliud est, vix satis sanus videri solet. Qui enim nihil potest tranquille, nihil leniter, nihil partite definite distincte facete dicere, praesertim cum causae partim totae sint eo modo partim aliqua ex parte tractandae si is non praeparatis auribus inflammare rem coepit, furere apud sanos et quasi inter sobrios bacchari vinulentus videtur.

We have him, then, Brutus, the man we are seeking — but in our minds; for had I laid hold of him with my hand, not even he, for all his great eloquence, would have persuaded me to let him go. But the eloquent man has surely been found, the one Antonius never saw. Who, then, is he? I shall embrace it briefly, and discuss it at greater length. He is eloquent who can speak of small matters with subtlety, of great matters with weight, and of middling matters with measure. “No such man,” you will say, “ever existed.”

tenemus igitur, Brute, quem quaerimus, sed animo; nam manu si prehendissem, ne ipse quidem sua tanta eloquentia mihi persuasisset ut se dimitterem. sed inventus profecto est ille eloquens, quem numquam vidit Antonius. Quis est igitur is? complectar brevi, disseram pluribus. Is est enim eloquens, qui et humilia subtiliter et alta graviter et mediocria temperate potest dicere. Nemo is, inquies, umquam fuit.

Suppose he never did. For I am arguing not about what I have seen but about what I desire; and I return to that form and ideal of Plato’s, of which I had spoken, which, though we do not perceive it with the eye, we can yet hold in the mind. For I am not seeking an eloquent man, nor anything mortal and perishable, but that very thing itself, whoever possesses which is eloquent — which is nothing other than eloquence itself, which we can see with no eyes but those of the mind. He, then, will be eloquent — to repeat once more that same definition — who can speak of small things in a restrained way, of moderate things with measure, and of great things with weight.

ne fuerit. Ego enim quid desiderem, non quid viderim disputo redeoque ad illam Platonis de qua dixeram rei formam et speciem, quam etsi non cernimus, tamen animo tenere possumus. Non enim eloquentem quaero neque quicquam mortale et caducum, sed illud ipsum, cuius qui sit compos, sit eloquens; quod nihil est aliud nisi eloquentia ipsa, quam nullis nisi mentis oculis videre possumus. Is erit igitur eloquens, ut idem illud iteremus, qui poterit parva summisse, modica temperate, magna graviter dicere.

My whole case for Caecina turned on the words of the interdict: I unraveled tangled matters by defining them, I praised the civil law, I drew distinctions among ambiguous words. In the Manilian law Pompey had to be glorified: with tempered speech I pursued the abundance proper to praise. The whole right of preserving the majesty of the state was bound up in the case of Rabirius: there, accordingly, I blazed forth in every kind of amplification.

tota mihi causa pro Caecina de verbis interdicti fuit: res involutas definiendo explicavimus, ius civile laudavimus, verba ambigua distinximus. Fuit ornandus in Manilia lege Pompeius: temperata oratione ornandi copiam persecuti sumus. Ius omne retinendae maiestatis Rabiri causa continebatur: ergo in ea omni genere amplificationis exarsimus.

But these things must at times be tempered and varied. What style, then, is not to be found in the seven books of the prosecution? What style is not in the speech for Habitus? In the one for Cornelius? In a great many of my defenses? I would have selected these examples, did I not think they were either well known, or such as those who sought them could read for themselves. For there is no merit of the orator, in any kind, of which there is not in my own speeches at least some specimen — if not the perfection, then still the attempt and the rough sketch.

at haec interdum temperanda et varianda sunt. Quod igitur in accusationis septem libris non reperitur genus? quod in Habiti? quod in Corneli? quod in plurimis nostris defensionibus? quae exempla selegissem, nisi vel nota esse arbitrarer vel ipsi possent legere qui quaererent. Nulla est enim ullo in genere laus oratoris cuius in nostris orationibus non sit aliqua si non perfectio, at conatus tamen atque adumbratio.

We do not attain it; but we see what it is fitting to pursue. For I am speaking now not of myself but of the thing; and in this I am so far from admiring my own work, and am so hard to please and so peevish, that not even Demosthenes himself satisfies me — who, though he alone stands out above all in every kind of speaking, yet does not always fill my ears, so greedy are they and so capacious, and so often do they long for something measureless and boundless.

non adsequimur; at quid sequi deceat videmus. Nec enim nunc de nobis, sed de re dicimus; in quo tantum abest ut nostra miremur, et usque eo difficiles ac morosi sumus, ut nobis non satis faciat ipse Demosthenes; qui quamquam unus eminet inter omnis in omni genere dicendi, tamen non semper implet auris meas; ita sunt avidae et capaces et saepe aliquid immensum infinitumque desiderant.

But still, since you have come to know this orator thoroughly and most carefully, with his great devotee Pammenes, when you were at Athens, and do not let him slip from your hands — and yet read my works as well — you surely see that he achieves much and we attempt much, that he is able while we are merely willing, to speak in whatever way the case demands. For he, a great man, came after great men himself, and had the greatest orators for his contemporaries; we less so. We should have done a great thing, if indeed we had been able to reach the goal we strive for, in a city in which, as Antonius says, no eloquent man had ever been heard.

sed tamen, quoniam et hunc tu oratorem cum eius studiosissimo Pammene, cum esses Athenis, totum diligentissime cognovisti nec eum dimittis e manibus et tamen nostra etiam lectitas, vides profecto ilium multa perficere, nos multa conari, ilium posse, nos velle quocumque modo causa postulet dicere. Nam ille magnus et successit ipse magnis et maximos oratores habuit aequalis; nos minus. Magnum fecissemus, si quidem potuissemus quo contendimus pervenire in ea urbe in qua, ut ait Antonius, auditus eloquens nemo erat.

And yet, if Crassus did not seem eloquent to Antonius, or to himself, then Cotta would never have seemed so, nor Sulpicius, nor Hortensius; for Cotta said nothing in the ample style, Sulpicius nothing gently, Hortensius not much with weight; the earlier men were more apt for every kind — I mean Crassus and Antonius. We found, then, that the city’s ears were starved of this manifold style of oratory, poured out evenly into every kind, and we were the first — whoever we were, and however little we said — to turn the city to an incredible eagerness for hearing this kind of speech.

atqui si Antonio Crassus eloquens visus non est aut sibi ipse, numquam Cotta visus esset, numquam Sulpicius, numquam Hortensius; nihil enim ample Cotta, nihil leniter Sulpicius, non multa graviter Hortensius; superiores magis ad omne genus apti, Crassum dico et Antonium. Ieiunas igitur huius multiplicis et aequabiliter in omnia genera fusae orationis auris civitatis accepimus, easque nos primi, quicumque eramus et quantulumcumque dicebamus, ad huius generis dicendi audiendi incredibilia studia convertimus.

With what loud applause did we, as young men, deliver those words about the punishment of parricides — words which, some while after, we began to feel had by no means cooled enough: “For what is so common to all as breath to the living, earth to the dead, the sea to those tossed by the waves, the shore to the shipwrecked? They live, while they can, so that they cannot draw breath from heaven; they die so that their bones do not touch the earth; they are tossed by the waves so that they are never washed clean; they are cast up, at the last, so that not even in death do they find rest upon the rocks” — and what follows; for it is all such as wins a young man praise not so much by its substance and ripeness as by its promise and the expectation it raises. Of the same temper, but already mature, is this: “the son-in-law’s wife, the son’s stepmother, the daughter’s rival.”

quantis illa clamoribus adulescentuli diximus de supplicio parricidarum, quae nequaquam satis defervisse post aliquanto sentire coepimus: Quid enim tam commune quam spiritus vivis, terra mortuis, mare fluctuantibus, litus eiectis? ita vivunt, dum possunt, ut ducere animam de caelo non queant; ita moriuntur ut eorum ossa terram non tangant; ita iactantur fluctibus ut numquam adluantur; ita postremo eiciuntur ut ne ad saxa quidem mortui conquiescant, et quae sequuntur; sunt enim omnia sic ut adulescentis non tam re et maturitate quam spe et exspectatione laudati. Ab hac etiam indole iam illa matura: vxor generi, noverca filii, filiae paelex.

Nor indeed was this our only ardor, that we should say everything in this manner. For that very youthful exuberance in the speech for Roscius has much that is toned down, and some passages even a little more cheerful — as in the speech for Habitus, in the one for Cornelius, and in several others. For no orator, even in the leisure of Greece, has written so much as my works amount to, and these very works have that variety which I approve.

nec vero hic erat unus ardor in nobis ut hoc modo omnia diceremus. Ipsa enim illa pro Roscio iuvenilis redundantia multa habet attenuata, quaedam etiam paulo hilariora, ut pro Habito, pro Cornelio compluresque aliae. Nemo enim orator tam multa ne in Graeco quidem otio scripsit quam multa sunt nostra, eaque hanc ipsam habent quam probo varietatem.

Or should I grant to Homer, to Ennius, to the rest of the poets and especially the tragedians, that they need not use the same intensity in every passage but might change it often, sometimes even drawing near to the everyday manner of speech — and yet myself never depart from that fiercest intensity? But why bring forward the poets of divine genius? We have seen actors than whom nothing in their own kind could be more excellent, who not only gave full satisfaction in roles utterly unlike their own, while still keeping within their own line, but whom we have seen win great favor as comic actors in tragedies and tragic actors in comedies: shall I not exert myself?

an ego Homero, Ennio, reliquis poetis et maxime tragicis concederem ut ne omnibus locis eadem contentione uterentur crebroque mutarent, non numquam etiam ad cotidianum genus sermonis accederent: ipse numquam ab illa acerrima contentione discederem? sed quid poetas divino ingenio profero? histriones eos vidimus quibus nihil posset in suo genere esse praestantius, qui non solum in dissimillimis personis satis faciebant, cum tamen in suis versarentur, sed et comoedum in tragoediis et tragoedum in comoediis admodum placere vidimus: ego non elaborem?

When I say “I,” I mean you, Brutus; for in my own case what was destined to come about was accomplished long ago. But will you handle every case in the same manner? Or will you reject some kind of case? Or will you maintain, in the same cases, one unbroken and unchanging breath, with no variation at all? Demosthenes, at any rate — whose likeness in bronze I saw lately among the portraits of yourself and your family, when I had come to you at your Tusculan villa (because, I take it, you love him) — yields nothing to Lysias in subtlety, nothing to Hyperides in pointedness and acuteness, nothing to Aeschines in smoothness and splendor of words.

cum dico me, te, Brute, dico; nam in me quidem iam pridem effectum est quod futurum fuit; tu autem eodem modo omnis causas ages? aut aliquod causarum genus repudiabis? aut in isdem causis perpetuum et eundem spiritum sine ulla commutatione obtinebis? demosthenes quidem, cuius nuper inter imagines tuas ac tuorum, quod eum credo amares, cum ad te in Tusculanum venissem, imaginem ex aere vidi, nil Lysiae subtilitate cedit, nihil argutiis et acumine Hyperidi, nil levitate Aeschini et splendore verborum.

Many of his speeches are subtle throughout, like the one against Leptines; many wholly weighty, like certain of the Philippics; many varied, like the one against Aeschines on the false embassy, and the one against the same man for the cause of Ctesiphon. As for that middle style, he seizes it whenever he wishes, and, departing from his most weighty manner, it is into this above all that he descends. Yet he stirs up applause, and accomplishes most in speaking, when he uses the passages of weight.

multae sunt eius totae orationes subtiles, ut contra Leptinem; multae totae graves, ut quaedam Philippicae; multae variae, ut contra Aeschinem falsae legationis, ut contra eundem pro causa Ctesiphontis. Iam illud medium quotiens vult arripit et a gravissimo discedens eo potissimum delabitur. Clamores tamen tum movet et tum in dicendo plurimum efficit, cum gravitatis locis utitur.

But let us leave him for a little while, since we are inquiring about the kind, not the man: let us rather unfold the force and nature of the thing itself — that is, of eloquence. Let us nonetheless remember what I said before: that I shall say nothing by way of laying down rules, and shall conduct myself rather so as to seem an appraiser speaking, not a teacher. In this, however, I often go on at greater length, because I see that you are not the only one who will read these pages — you, who hold these matters far better known to you than to us, who seem as it were to be teaching — but that this book, even if less by my recommendation than under your name, must inevitably be made public.

sed ab hoc parumper abeamus, quando quidem de genere, non de homine quaerimus: rei potius, id est eloquentiae vim et naturam explicemus. Illud tamen quod iam ante diximus meminerimus, nihil nos praecipiendi causa esse dicturos atque ita potius acturos ut existimatores videamur loqui, non magistri. In quo tamen longius saepe progredimur, quod videmus non te haec solum esse lecturum, qui ea multo quam nos qui quasi docere videmur habeas notiora, sed hunc librum etiam si minus nostra commendatione, tuo tamen nomine divulgari necesse est.

I hold, then, that it belongs to the perfectly eloquent man not only to possess the faculty proper to him, of speaking copiously and at large, but also to take up that neighboring and bordering science of the dialecticians. And yet oratory seems to be one thing and disputation another, and to converse is not the same as to deliver a speech — and yet both lie in the realm of discourse: let the method of debating and conversing belong to the dialecticians, but that of speaking and adorning to the orators. Zeno, indeed, the founder of the Stoic discipline, used to demonstrate with his hand the difference between these two arts; for when he had closed his fingers and made a fist, he would say that dialectic was of that kind; but when he had drawn them apart and spread out his hand, he would say that eloquence was like that open palm.

esse igitur perfecte eloquentis puto non eam tantum facultatem habere quae sit eius propria, fuse lateque dicendi, sed etiam vicinam eius ac finitimam dialecticorum scientiam adsumere. Quamquam aliud videtur oratio esse aliud disputatio, nec idem loqui esse quod dicere, ac tamen utrumque in disserendo est: disputandi ratio et loquendi dialecticorum sit, oratorum autem dicendi et ornandi. Zeno quidem ille, a quo disciplina Stoicorum est, manu demonstrare solebat quid inter has artis interesset; nam cum compresserat digitos pugnumque fecerat, dialecticam aiebat eius modi esse; cum autem deduxerat et manum dilataverat; palmae illius similem eloquentiam esse dicebat.

And even before him Aristotle, at the opening of his Art of Rhetoric, says that this art answers, as it were from the other side, to dialectic — differing in this, evidently, that this method of speaking is broader, that one of conversing more compressed. I wish, therefore, that this supreme man should know the whole method of discourse that can be drawn over to the service of speaking; and this discipline — as does not in the least escape you, schooled as you are in these arts — has had a twofold way of teaching. For Aristotle himself handed down a great many precepts of reasoning, and afterward those who are called dialecticians brought forth much that is thornier.

atque etiam ante hunc Aristoteles principio artis rhetorical dicit illam artem quasi ex altera parte respondere dialecticae, ut hoc videlicet differant inter se quod haec ratio dicendi latior sit, illa loquendi contractior. Volo igitur huic summo omnem quae ad dicendum trahi possit loquendi rationem esse notam; quae quidem res, quod te his artibus eruditum minime fallit, duplicem habuit docendi viam. Nam et ipse Aristoteles tradidit praecepta plurima disserendi et postea qui dialectici dicuntur spinosiora multa pepererunt.

For my part, I judge that the man who is drawn by the praise of eloquence should not be wholly unschooled in these matters, but trained either in that ancient discipline or in this of Chrysippus. Let him know, first, the force, the nature, and the kinds of words, both simple and combined; then in how many senses each thing is said; by what method it is judged whether a thing be true or false; what follows from each premise, what is consequent upon each thing and what contrary to it; and, since many things are said ambiguously, in what way each of them ought to be divided and explained. These things the orator must master — for they often come up — but, because of themselves they are rather unkempt, a certain polish of speech must be brought to bear in unfolding them.

ego eum censeo qui eloquentiae laude ducatur non esse earum rerum omnino rudem, sed vel illa antiqua vel hac Chrysippi disciplina institutum. Noverit primum vim, naturam, genera verborum et simplicium et copulatorum; deinde quot modis quidque dicatur; qua ratione verum falsumne sit iudicetur; quid efficiatur e quoque, quid cuique consequens sit quidve contrarium; cumque ambigue multa dicantur, quo modo quidque eorum dividi explanarique oporteat. Haec tenenda sunt oratori—saepe enim occurrunt—, sed quia sua sponte squalidiora sunt, adhibendus erit in his explicandis quidam orationis nitor.

And since, in all things that are taught by method and system, one must first establish what each thing is — for unless those who are debating agree on what the matter in dispute is, there can be no right discussion and no coming to an end — our meaning about each thing must often be unfolded in words, and the wrapped-up notion of the thing laid open by definition, if indeed a definition is a statement that shows, as briefly as may be, what that is which is under discussion; then, as you know, once the genus of each thing has been set out, one must see what are the species, or forms, or parts of that genus, so that the whole discourse may be distributed among them.

et quoniam in omnibus quae ratione docentur et via primum constituendum est quid quidque sit—nisi enim inter eos qui disceptant convenit quid sit illud quod ambigitur, nec recte disseri umquam nec ad exitum perveniri potest —, explicanda est saepe verbis mens nostra de quaque re atque involuta rei notitia definiendo aperienda est, si quidem est definitio oratio, quae quid sit id de quo agitur ostendit quam brevissime; tum, ut scis, explicato genere cuiusque rei videndum est quae sint eius generis sive formae sive partes, ut in eas tribuatur omnis oratio.

There will be in the man we wish to be eloquent, therefore, this faculty: that he can define a thing, yet not do it as tightly and narrowly as is the custom in those most learned discussions, but at once more clearly and also more amply and more accommodated to common judgment and popular understanding; and likewise, when the matter demands, he will partition and divide a whole genus into fixed species, so that none is either passed over or runs to excess. But when he should do this, or in what way, has nothing to do with our present purpose, since, as I said above, I wish to be a judge, not a teacher.

erit igitur haec facultas in eo quem volumus esse eloquentem, ut definire rem possit nec id faciat tam presse et anguste quam in illis eruditissimis disputationibus fieri solet, sed cum explanatius tum etiam uberius et ad commune iudicium popularemque intellegentiam accommodatius; idemque etiam, cum res postulabit, genus universum in species certas, ut nulla neque praetermittatur neque redundet, partietur ac dividet. Quando autem id faciat aut quo modo, nihil ad hoc tempus, quoniam, ut supra dixi, iudicem esse me, non doctorem volo.

And indeed let him be furnished not by the dialecticians alone, but let him have all the topics of philosophy known and well handled. For nothing about religion, nothing about death, nothing about piety, nothing about love of country, nothing about good things or evil, nothing about the virtues or the vices, nothing about duty, nothing about pain, nothing about pleasure, nothing about the disorders and errors of the mind — matters that often fall within cases and are pleaded too thinly — nothing, I say, can be spoken and unfolded with weight, with amplitude, with abundance, without that science of which I have spoken.

nec vero a dialecticis modo sit instructus et habeat omnis philosophiae notos ac tractatos locos. Nihil enim de religione, nihil de morte, nihil de pietate, nihil de caritate patriae, nihil de bonis rebus aut malis, nihil de virtutibus aut vitiis, nihil de officio, nihil de dolore, nihil de voluptate, nihil de perturbationibus animi et erroribus, quae saepe cadunt in causas et ieiunius aguntur, nihil, inquam, sine ea scientia quam dixi graviter ample copiose dici et explicari potest.

I am speaking still of the matter of the speech, not of the kind of speaking itself. For I wish the orator first to have a subject to speak on, one worthy of learned ears, before he considers in what words he is to say each thing, or in what manner; and him too — that he may be the grander, and in a certain way the loftier, as I said above of Pericles — I wish to be not even ignorant of natural philosophy. Surely, when he turns back from celestial matters to human ones, he will both speak and feel more loftily and more magnificently in everything.

de materia loquor orationis etiam nunc, non de ipso genere dicendi. Volo enim prius habeat orator rem de qua dicat, dignam auribus eruditis, quam cogitet quibus verbis quidque dicat aut quo modo; quem etiam, quo grandior sit et quodam modo excelsior, ut de Pericle dixi supra, ne physicorum quidem esse ignarum volo. Omnia profecto, cum se a caelestibus rebus referet ad humanas, excelsius magnificentiusque et dicet et sentiet.

When he has come to know those divine things, I would not have him be ignorant of human things either. Let him have the civil law at his command, of which forensic cases stand in daily need. For what is more disgraceful than to undertake the defense of legal and civil disputes when you are ignorant of the laws and of the civil law? Let him learn, too, the sequence of deeds done and of ancient record — most of all, of course, that of our own state, but also of imperial peoples and illustrious kings; which labor our friend Atticus has lightened for us, who, with the dates preserved and noted, passing over nothing illustrious, has gathered into a single book the record of seven hundred years. But not to know what happened before you were born is to be forever a child. For what is the lifetime of a man, unless it is woven together, through the memory of ancient things, with the age of those who came before? Moreover, the recalling of antiquity and the citing of examples brings to a speech, with the greatest delight, both authority and credit.

cum illa divina cognoverit, nolo ignoret ne haec quidem humana. Ius civile teneat, quo egent causae forenses cotidie. Quid est enim turpius quam legitimarum et civilium controversiarum patrocinia suscipere, cum sis legum et civilis iuris ignarus? cognoscat etiam rerum gestarum et memoriae veteris ordinem, maxime scilicet nostrae civitatis, sed etiam imperiosorum populorum et regum inlustrium; quem laborem nobis Attici nostri levavit labor, qui conservatis notatisque temporibus, nihil cum inlustre praetermitteret, annorum septingentorum memoriam uno libro conligavit. Nescire autem quid ante quam natus sis accident, id est semper esse puerum. Quid enim est aetas hominis, nisi ea memoria rerum veterum cum superiorum aetate contexitur? commemoratio autem antiquitatis exemplorumque prolatio summa cum delectatione et auctoritatem orationi adfert et fidem.

Equipped, then, in this way, he will come to cases, the kinds of which he will first have come to know in themselves. For it will be clear to him that nothing can be in dispute in which the controversy is not raised either by the facts or by the words: by the facts, when it concerns the truth, or the right, or the name of the thing; by the words, when it concerns ambiguity or contradiction. For if at any time one thing seems to lie in the sense and another in the wording, there is a certain kind of ambiguity that commonly arises from a word left unsaid, in which — and this is the very property of ambiguous expressions — we see that two things are signified.

sic igitur instructus veniet ad causas, quarum habebit genera primum ipsa cognita. Erit enim ei perspectum nihil ambigi posse in quo non aut res controversiam faciat aut verba: res aut de vero aut de recto aut de nomine, verba aut de ambiguo aut de contrario. Nam si quando aliud in sententia videtur esse aliud in verbis, genus est quoddam ambigui quod ex praeterito verbo fieri solet, in quo quod est ambiguorum proprium res duas significari videmus.

Since the kinds of cases are so few, the rules for arguments are likewise few. We have been handed two sets of topics from which they may be drawn: the one derived from the facts themselves, the other brought in from outside. It is the handling of the matter, then, that produces an admirable speech; for the facts in themselves lie within an altogether easy understanding. What, after all, now follows that belongs to the art, except: to open the speech in such a way that the hearer is either won over, or roused, or made ready to learn; to set out the matter briefly, plausibly, and clearly, so that what is at issue can be understood; to establish one’s own points and overturn the adversary’s, and to do this not in confusion but by so concluding the individual arguments that what follows from the premises taken up to prove each point is brought home; and finally, in the peroration, to close by either kindling the feelings or quenching them? How he is to handle each of these parts is hard to say in this place; for they are not always handled in one and the same way.

cum tam pauca sint genera causarum, etiam argumentorum praecepta pauca sunt. Traditi sunt e quibus ea ducantur duplices loci: uni e rebus ipsis, alteri adsumpti. Tractatio igitur rerum efficit admirabilem orationem; nam ipsae quidem res in perfacili cognitione versantur. Quid enim iam sequitur, quod quidem artis sit, nisi ordiri orationem, in quo aut concilietur auditor aut erigatur aut paret se ad discendum; rem breviter exponere et probabiliter et aperte, ut quid agatur intellegi possit; sua confirmare, adversaria evertere, eaque efficere non perturbate, sed singulis argumentationibus ita concludendis, ut efficiatur quod sit consequens eis quae sumentur ad quamque rem confirmandam; post omnia peroratione inflammantem restinguentemve concludere? has partis quem ad modum tractet singulas difficile dictu est hoc loco; nec enim semper tractantur uno modo.

But since I am not seeking a man to instruct but a man to approve, I shall give my approval first of all to the one who has seen what is fitting. For this above all is the wisdom the eloquent man must bring to bear: to be the master of occasions and of persons. For I judge that one must not speak always, nor before all audiences, nor against all opponents, nor on behalf of all clients, nor with all associates in one and the same way. He, therefore, will be eloquent who can adapt his speech to whatever is fitting in each case. When he has settled this, then he will speak of each thing as it must be spoken — neither baldly of full matters, nor meagrely of grand ones, nor again the reverse — but his speech will be matched and level with the things themselves.

quoniam autem non quem doceam quaero, sed quem probem, probabo primum eum qui quid deceat viderit. Haec enim sapientia maxime adhibenda eloquenti est, ut sit temporum personarumque moderator. Nam nec semper nec apud omnis nec contra omnis nec pro omnibus nec cum omnibus eodem modo dicendum arbitror. is erit ergo eloquens qui ad id quodcumque decebit poterit accommodare orationem. Quod cum statuerit, tum ut quidque erit dicendum ita dicet, nec satura ieiune nec grandia minute nec item contra, sed erit rebus ipsis par et aequalis oratio.

His openings modest, not yet inflamed with exalted words, but sharp in their sentiments, whether to wound the adversary or to commend himself. His narratives credible, set out lucidly, not in the language of history but in something close to everyday speech. Then, if the case is slight, the thread of argument too will be slight, both in proving and in refuting, and this will be kept so well in hand that as much accrues to the speech as accrues to the matter.

principia verecunda, nondum elatis incensa verbis, sed acuta sententiis vel ad offensionem adversarii vel ad commendationem sui. Narrationes credibiles nec historico sed prope cotidiano sermone explicatae dilucide. Dein si tenuis causa est, tum etiam argumentandi tenue filum et in docendo et in refellendo, idque ita tenebitur, ut quanta ad rem tanta ad orationem fiat accessio.

But when a case has come his way in which the full power of eloquence can be displayed, then the orator will pour himself out more broadly, then he will rule and bend men’s minds and so work upon them as he wills — that is, as the nature of the case and the reason of the occasion shall demand. But that whole admirable adornment, on account of which eloquence has risen to such high honour, will be of two kinds. For while every part of the speech ought to be praiseworthy, so that no word falls from him that is not either weighty or elegant, yet two parts above all are luminous and, as it were, full of action: of these I assign the one to the inquiry into a topic in its universal form, which, as I said above, the Greeks call thesis; the other to the heightening and amplifying of things, which by the same men is named auxēsis.

cum vero causa ea inciderit in qua vis eloquentiae possit expromi, tum se latius fundet orator, tum reget et flectet animos et sic adficiet ut volet, id est ut causae natura et ratio temporis postulabit. sed erit duplex eius omnis ornatus ille admirabilis, pro- pter quem ascendit in tantum honorem eloquentia. Nam cum omnis pars orationis esse debet laudabilis, sic ut verbum nullum nisi aut grave aut elegans excidat, tum sunt maxime luminosae et quasi actuosae partes duae: quarum alteram in universi generis quaestione pono, quam, ut supra dixi, Graeci appellant qe/sin, alteram in augendis amplificandisque rebus, quae ab isdem au)/chsis est nominata.

And although this latter ought to be poured out evenly throughout the whole body of the speech, it will nonetheless show to greatest advantage in the commonplaces — called common because they seem to belong alike to many cases, though they ought to be made proper to each single one. But that part of the speech which treats of the universal kind often contains whole cases. For whatever it is in which the contest of the controversy lies, which in Greek is called krinomenon, the rule is that it be so stated as to be carried over into the general inquiry, so that one speaks of the universal kind — except when the dispute is about a matter of fact, which is commonly investigated by conjecture.

quae etsi aequabiliter toto corpore orationis fusa esse debet, tamen in communibus locis maxime excellet; qui communes sunt appellati eo quod videntur multarum idem esse causarum, sed proprii singularum esse debebunt. At vero illa pars orationis, quae est de genere universo, totas causas saepe continet. Quicquid est enim illud in quo quasi certamen est controversiae, quod Graece krino/menon dicitur, id ita dici placet, ut traducatur ad perpetuam quaestionem atque uti de universo genere dicatur, nisi cum de vero ambigitur, quod quaeri coniectura solet.

It will be argued, however, not after the manner of the Peripatetics — for theirs is an elegant exercise, established long ago, ever since Aristotle — but somewhat more sinewy, and these common matters will be so treated that much is said gently on behalf of the defendants and harshly against the adversaries. As for the heightening of things and, conversely, their disparagement, there is nothing the speech cannot accomplish; and this must be done in the midst of the arguments themselves, as often as occasion is given for amplifying or for diminishing, and almost without limit in the peroration.

dicetur autem non Peripateticorum more—est enim illorum exercitatio elegans iam inde ab Aristotele constituta—, sed aliquanto nervosius et ita de re communia dicentur, ut et pro reis multa leniter dicantur et in adversaries aspere. Augendis vero rebus et contra abiciendis nihil est quod non perficere possit oratio; quod et inter media argumenta faciendum est quotiescumque dabitur vel amplificandi vel minuendi locus, et paene infinite in perorando.

For two things remain which, when well handled by the orator, produce admirable eloquence. The one is what the Greeks call ēthikon, suited to natures, to characters, and to the whole habit of life; the other is what those same men name pathētikon, by which minds are thrown into turmoil and stirred up, and in this alone the speech reigns supreme. The former is courteous and agreeable, fitted to winning goodwill; the latter is vehement, kindled, driven on, and by it cases are snatched away — and when it sweeps on at speed, it can in no way be withstood.

duo restant enim, quae bene tractata ab oratore admirabilem eloquentiam faciunt. Quorum alterum est, quod Graeci h)qiko vocant, ad naturas et ad mores et ad omnem vitae consuetudinem accommodatum; alterum, quod idem paqhtiko nominant, quo perturbantur animi et concitantur, in quo uno regnat oratio. Illud superius come iucundum, ad benevolentiam conciliandam paratum; hoc vehemens incensum incitatum, quo causae eripiuntur: quod cum rapide fertur, sustineri nullo pacto potest.

In this kind I, though but middling or even much less, yet always wielding great force, have often dislodged my adversaries from their whole footing. On behalf of a friend who stood accused, that supreme orator Hortensius did not answer me; before me, in the Senate, Catiline, that most reckless of men, fell mute under accusation; before me, when in a private case of great gravity Curio the elder had begun to reply, he suddenly sat down, declaring that his memory had been snatched from him by poisons.

quo genere nos mediocres aut multo etiam minus, sed magno semper usi impetu saepe adversaries de statu omni deiecimus. Nobis pro familiari reo summus orator non respondit Hortensius; a nobis homo audacissimus Catilina in senatu accusatus obmutuit; nobis privata in causa magna et gravi cum coepisset Curio pater respondere, subito adsedit, cum sibi venenis ereptam memoriam diceret.

Why should I speak of appeals to pity? Of these I have made the more use because, even when several of us were pleading, the others nevertheless left the peroration to me; and in this I came to seem to excel not by talent but by feeling. Whatever these qualities of mine may be — for I myself am dissatisfied with how great they are — they are at any rate evident in my speeches, though the books lack that breath of life on account of which these same things, when they are pleaded, are wont to seem greater than when they are read.

quid ego de miserationibus loquar? quibus eo sum usus pluribus quod, etiam si plures dicebamus, perorationem mihi tamen omnes relinquebant; in quo ut viderer excellere non ingenio sed dolore adsequebar. Quae qualiacumque in me sunt—me enim ipsum paenitet quanta sint—, sed apparent in orationibus, etsi carent libri spiritu illo, propter quem maiora eadem illa cum aguntur quam cum leguntur videri solent.

And indeed the minds of the jurors must be moved not by pity alone — which I am accustomed to use with such pathos that, while finishing my plea, I once held an infant child in my arms; that in another case, raising up a noble defendant, and lifting up too his little son, I filled the Forum with wailing and lamentation — but it must also be brought about that the juror grows angry and is appeased, that he envies and favours, that he despises and admires, that he hates and loves, that he longs and disdains, that he hopes and fears, that he rejoices and grieves. For this whole range of feelings, the prosecution will furnish examples of the harsher kind, my own defences of the gentler.

nec vero miseratione solum mens iudicum permovenda est —qua nos ita dolenter uti solemus ut puerum infantem in manibus perorantes tenuerimus, ut alia in causa excitato reo nobili, sublato etiam filio parvo, plangore et lamentatione complerimus forum—, sed est faciendum etiam ut irascatur iudex mitigetur, invideat faveat, contemnat admiretur, oderit diligat, cupiat fastidiat, speret metuat, laetetur doleat; qua in varietate duriorum accusatio suppeditabit exempla, mitiorum defensiones meae.

For there is no manner of stirring up or of soothing the mind of a listener that I have not attempted — I would say perfected, did I think so, and did I not, in the face of the truth, dread the charge of arrogance; but, as I said above, it is no force of talent but a great force of feeling that inflames me, so that I cannot contain myself. Nor would the one who listens ever be set alight unless the speech reached him already burning. I would use examples of my own, had you not read them; I would use those of others, whether Latin, if I could find any, or Greek, if it were fitting. But of Crassus there are very few, and those not from the courts; of Antonius nothing, of Cotta nothing, of Sulpicius nothing; Hortensius spoke better than he wrote.

nullo enim modo animus audientis aut incitari aut leniri potest, qui modus a me non temptatus sit,—dicerem perfectum, si ita iudi- carem, nec in veritate crimen arrogantiae extimescerem; sed, ut supra dixi, nulla me ingeni sed magna vis animi inflammat, ut me ipse non teneam; nec umquam is qui audiret incenderetur, nisi ardens ad eum perveniret oratio. Vterer exemplis domesticis, nisi ea legisses, uterer alienis vel Latinis, si ulla reperirem, vel Graecis, si deceret. Sed Crassi perpauca sunt nec ea iudiciorum, nihil Antoni, nihil Cottae, nihil Sulpici; dicebat melius quam scripsit Hortensius.

But how great this power is that we are seeking, let us surmise, since we have no example of it; or, if we are to follow examples, let us take them from Demosthenes — and indeed from a sustained passage of his, from that point where, in the trial of Ctesiphon, he undertook to speak of his own deeds, his counsels, his services to the commonwealth. That speech, surely, can be so brought within that form which is implanted in our minds that no greater eloquence is so much as looked for.

verum haec vis, quam quaerimus, quanta sit suspicemur, quoniam exemplum non habemus, aut si exempla sequimur, a Demosthene sumamus et quidem perpetuae dictionis ex eo loco unde in Ctesiphontis iudicio de suis factis, consiliis, meritis in rem publicam adgressus est dicere. Ea profecto oratio in eam formam quae est insita in mentibus nostris includi sic potest, ut maior eloquentia ne requiratur quidem.

But now the form itself remains, and that which is called the charactēr; and what its character ought to be can be understood from what has been said above. For we have touched on the lights both of single words and of words in combination; in these he will so abound that no word leaves his lips that is not either elegant or weighty, and from every kind there will be very frequent metaphors, because these, by virtue of likeness, transfer the mind and carry it back and move it this way and that — and this motion of thought, swiftly stirred, is of itself a delight. And the remaining devices that are drawn from the arrangement of words, the lights as it were, lend great adornment to a speech; for they are like those things which, in the rich furnishing of a stage or of the Forum, are called showpieces — not because they alone adorn, but because they stand out.

sed iam forma ipsa restat et xarakth ille qui dicitur; qui qualis esse debeat ex his quae supra dicta sunt intellegi potest. Nam et singulorum verborum et conlocatorum lumina attigimus; quibus sic abundabit, ut verbum ex ore nullum nisi aut elegans aut grave exeat, ex omnique genere frequentissimae translationes erunt, quod eae propter similitudinem transferunt animos et referunt ac movent huc et illuc, qui motus cogitationis celeriter agitatus per se ipse delectat. Et reliqua ex conlocatione verborum quae sumuntur quasi lumina magnum adferunt ornatum orationi; sunt enim similia illis quae in amplo ornatu scaenae aut fori appellantur insignia, non quia sola ornent, sed quod excellant.

The same holds of those things which are the lights of a speech and in a manner its showpieces: when words are doubled and repeated, or set down slightly altered; or when the speech is led off more than once from the same word, or is gathered back into the same word, or both; or when the same word is joined on in repetition, or the same word is carried to the end; or when one and the same word is set down continuously but not in the same sense; or when words fall alike or end alike; or when contraries are matched against contraries; or when one mounts step by step upward; or when, with the conjunctions stripped away, several things are said in loose succession; or when, passing something over, we show why we do so; or when we correct ourselves as if reproaching ourselves; or if there is some exclamation, whether of wonder or of complaint; or when the cases of the same noun are shifted again and again.

eadem ratio est horum quae sunt orationis lumina et quodam modo insignia: cum aut duplicantur iteranturque verba aut leviter commutata ponuntur, aut ab eodem verbo ducitur saepius oratio aut in idem conicitur aut utrumque, aut adiungitur idem iteratum aut idem ad extremum refertur aut continenter unum verbum non in eadem sententia ponitur; aut cum similiter vel cadunt verba vel desinunt; aut cum sunt contrariis relata contraria; aut cum gradatim sursum versus reditur; aut cum demptis coniunctionibus dissolute plura dicuntur; aut cum aliquid praetereuntes cur id faciamus ostendimus; aut cum corrigimus nosmet ipsos quasi reprehendentes; aut si est aliqua exclamatio vel admirationis vel questionis; aut cum eiusdem nominis casus saepius commutantur.

But the ornaments of the thoughts are greater; and because Demosthenes uses these most frequently, there are those who think his eloquence is for that reason supremely praiseworthy. And indeed scarcely any passage is spoken by him without some shaping of the thought; nor is anything else meant by speaking than to illuminate all, or at any rate most, of the thoughts with some figure. Since you, Brutus, have an excellent grasp of these, what need is there to use the names or the examples? Let the topic merely be marked.

sed sententiarum ornamenta maiora sunt; quibus quia frequentissime Demosthenes utitur, sunt qui putent idcirco eius eloquentiam maxime esse laudabilem. Et vero nullus fere ab eo locus sine quadam conformatione sententiae dicitur; nec quicquam est aliud dicere nisi omnis aut certe plerasque aliqua specie inluminare sententias: quas cum tu optime, Brute, teneas, quid attinet nominibus uti aut exemplis? tantum modo notetur locus.

So, then, the man we are seeking will speak in such a way as to turn the same thing over often in many ways, and to dwell on one point and linger over the same thought; often too to make light of something, often to mock it; to swerve from his theme and bend the thought aside; to announce what he is about to say; to define, when he has now finished some matter; to call himself back; to repeat what he has said; to round off an argument with reasoning; to press by questioning; and again, as if in answer to the questions, to answer himself; to wish a thing taken and felt the contrary of what he says; to raise a doubt whether there is anything he should rather say, or how he should say it; to divide into parts; to leave something aside and pass it by; to fortify himself beforehand; on the very point for which he is reproached, to lay the fault on the adversary;

sic igitur dicet ille, quem expetimus, ut verset saepe multis modis eadem et una in re haereat in eademque commoretur sententia; saepe etiam ut extenuet aliquid, saepe ut inrideat; ut declinet a proposito deflectatque sententiam; ut proponat quid dicturus sit; ut, cum transegerit iam aliquid, definiat; ut se ipse revocet; ut quod dixit iteret; ut argumentum ratione concludat; ut interrogando urgeat; ut rursus quasi ad interrogata sibi ipse respondeat; ut contra ac dicat accipi et sentiri velit; ut addubitet ecquid potius aut quo modo dicat; ut dividat in partis; ut aliquid relinquat ac neglegat; ut ante praemuniat; ut in eo ipso in quo reprehendatur culpam in adversarium conferat;

often to deliberate, as it were, with those who are listening, and sometimes even with the adversary; to describe the speech and the characters of men; to bring in mute things speaking; to turn the mind away from the matter at hand; often to turn it to mirth and laughter; to seize beforehand on what seems likely to be raised against him; to draw comparisons; to use examples; to apportion, assigning one thing to one and another to another; to check an interrupter; to say that he passes something over in silence; to give warning of what they should beware; to dare something rather freely; even to grow angry, and at times to rebuke; to entreat, to beseech, to provide a remedy; to swerve somewhat from his theme; to wish, to curse; to make himself intimate with those before whom he will speak.

ut saepe cum eis qui audiunt, non numquam etiam cum adversario quasi deliberet; ut hominum sermones moresque describat; ut muta quaedam loquentia inducat; ut ab eo quod agitur avertat animos; ut saepe in hilaritatem risumve convertat; ut ante occupet quod videatur opponi; ut comparet similitudines; ut utatur exemplis; ut aliud alii tribuens dispertiat; ut interpellatorem coerceat; ut aliquid reticere se dicat; ut denuntiet quid caveant; ut liberius quid audeat; ut irascatur etiam, ut obiurget aliquando; ut deprecetur, ut supplicet, ut medeatur; ut a proposito declinet aliquantum; ut optet, ut exsecretur; ut fiat eis apud quos dicet familiaris.

And he will pursue still other excellences, as it were, of speaking: brevity, if the matter calls for it; often, too, by his words he will set the thing before the eyes; often he will carry it beyond what could really happen; the suggestion will often be greater than the words; often there will be mirth, often the mimicry of life and of characters. In this kind — for you see something like a forest — the whole greatness of eloquence ought to shine forth.

atque alias etiam dicendi quasi virtutes sequetur: brevitatem, si res petet; saepe etiam rem dicendo subiciet oculis; saepe supra feret quam fieri possit; significatio saepe erit maior quam oratio; saepe hilaritas, saepe vitae naturarumque imitatio. hoc in genere—nam quasi silvam vides—omnis eluceat oportet eloquentiae magnitudo.

But these things, unless they are arranged and, as it were, built up and bound together by the words, cannot attain to the distinction we wish for. And although, when I saw that I must speak of this next, I was already moved by those considerations I set out above, I was nonetheless more troubled by what follows. For it occurred to me that one might find not only the envious, of whom all places are full, but even the supporters of my own renown, who would not think it the part of a man — about whose services the Senate had passed such judgments, with the Roman people’s approval, as it had passed about no one — to commit so many things to writing about the craft of speaking. To these, if I gave no other answer than that I had been unwilling to refuse Marcus Brutus when he asked, the excuse would be just, since I wished to satisfy a man both most dear to me and most distinguished, asking for what was right and honourable.

sed haec nisi conlocata et quasi structa et nexa verbis ad eam laudem quam volumus aspirare non possunt. De quo cum mihi deinceps viderem esse dicendum, etsi movebant iam me illa quae supra dixeram tamen eis quae sequuntur perturbabar magis. Occurrebat enim posse reperiri non invidos solum, quibus referta sunt omnia, sed fautores etiam laudum mearum, qui non censerent eius viri esse, de cuius meritis senatus tanta iudicia fecisset comprobante populo Romano quanta de nullo, de artificio dicendi litteris tam multa mandare. Quibus si nihil aliud responderem nisi me M. Bruto negare roganti noluisse, iusta esset excusatio, cum et amicissimo et praestantissimo viro et recta et honesta petenti satis facere voluissem.

But if I were to declare — and would that I could! — that I would hand on to those eager for speaking the precepts and, as it were, the roads that lead to eloquence, who, after all, that is a just judge of things would find fault with it? For who has ever doubted that, in our commonwealth, eloquence has always held the first place in the affairs of the city and of peace, and the knowledge of the law the second? Since in the one there was the greatest store of favour, of glory, of protection, while in the other there was the laying down of formulas and securities — which itself often sought aid from eloquence, and against its opposition could scarcely defend its own borders and bounds.

sed si profiterer —quod utinam possem!—me studiosis dicendi praecepta et quasi vias quae ad eloquentiam ferrent traditurum, quis tandem id iustus rerum existimator reprehenderet? nam quis umquam dubitavit quin in re publica nostra primas eloquentia tenuerit semper urbanis pacatisque rebus, secundas iuris scientia? cum in altera gratiae, gloriae, praesidi plurimum esset, in altera praescriptionum cautionumque praeceptio, quae quidem ipsa auxilium ab eloquentia saepe peteret, ea vero repugnante vix suas regiones finisque defenderet.

Why, then, has it always been honourable to teach the civil law, and have the houses of the most illustrious men flourished with pupils — yet, if anyone sharpens or aids the young in speaking, is he to be reproached? For if it is a fault to speak with ornament, let eloquence be driven out of the state altogether; but if it not only adorns those who possess it but even aids the whole commonwealth, why is it base to learn what it is honourable to know, or why is it not glorious to teach what it is most splendid to be able to do?

cur igitur ius civile docere semper pulchrum fuit hominumque clarissimorum discipulis floruerunt domus: ad dicendum si quis acuat aut adiuvet in eo iuventutem, vituperetur? nam si vitiosum est dicere ornate, pellatur omnino e civitate eloquentia; sin ea non modo eos ornat penes quos est, sed etiam iuvat universam rem publicam, cur aut discere turpe est quod scire honestum est aut quod posse pulcherrimum est id non gloriosum est docere?

‘But the one has been long practised, the other is new.’ I grant it; but there is a reason for both. For it was enough to hear the one set of men giving their responses, so that those who taught set aside no time of their own for the purpose, but at one and the same time satisfied both their students and their consultants; whereas the other set, spending their household hours in studying and composing cases, their hours in the Forum in pleading them, and what remained in restoring themselves — what room did they have for instructing or teaching? And I rather think that most of our orators, unlike myself, have been stronger in talent than in learning; and so they could perhaps speak better than they could teach, and I the reverse.

’ at alterum factitatum est, alterum novum.’ fateor; sed utriusque rei causa est. Alteros enim respondentes audire sat erat, ut ei qui docerent nullum sibi ad eam rem tempus ipsi seponerent, sed eodem tempore et discentibus satis facerent et consulentibus; alteri, cum domesticum tempus in cognoscendis componendisque causis, forense in agendis, reliquum in sese ipsis reficiendisomne consumerent, quem habebant instituendi aut docendi locum? atque haud scio an plerique nostrorum oratorum contra atque nos ingenio plus valuerint quam doctrina; itaque illi dicere melius quam praecipere, nos contra fortasse possumus.

‘But teaching carries no dignity.’ Certainly not, if it is done as in a school; but if by advising, by exhorting, by inquiring, by sharing, and at times even by reading and listening together — I do not see why, if by teaching as well you can sometimes make men better, you should be unwilling to do so. Or is it honourable to teach the words by which a transfer of sacred rites is effected — as indeed it is — and not honourable to teach the words by which the sacred rites themselves may be retained and defended?

’ at dignitatem docere non habet.’ certe, si quasi in ludo; sed si monendo, si cohortando, si percontando, si communicando, si interdum etiam una legendo, audiendo, nescio cur cum docendo etiam aliquid aliquando si possis meliores facere, cur nolis? an quibus verbis sacrorum alienatio fiat docere honestum est, ut est: quibus ipsa sacra retineri defendique possint non honestum est?

‘But men profess the law even when they do not know it; whereas eloquence even those who have attained it nevertheless pretend they have no power in.’ This is because good sense is welcome to men, but the tongue is suspect. Can eloquence, then, lie hidden? Or does what it dissembles escape notice? Or is there any danger that someone should think it base, in a great and glorious art, to teach others that which it was most honourable for oneself to have learned?

’ at ius profitentur etiam qui nesciunt; eloquentiam autem illi ipsi qui consecuti sunt tamen ea se valere dissimulant.’ propterea quod prudentia hominibus grata est, lingua suspecta. Num igitur aut latere eloquentia potest aut id quod dissimulat effugit aut est periculum ne quis putet in magna arte et gloriosa turpe esse docere alios id quod ipsi fuerit honestissimum discere?

And perhaps the rest are more guarded; I have always made open profession that I learned. For how could I — I, who in my youth had gone away from home, and had crossed the seas for the sake of these studies, and whose house was full of the most learned men, and in whose conversation there were perhaps some marks of learning, and whose writings were widely read by the public — how could I pretend that I had not learned? What reason was there for me to win approval, except that I had perhaps made too little progress? And though this is so, yet those matters of which I spoke above had more dignity, in the discussion, than these of which I am now to speak.

ac fortasse ceteri tectiores; ego semper me didicisse prae me tuli. Qui enim possem, cum et afuissem domo adulescens et horum studiorum causa maria transissem et doctissimis hominibus referta domus esset et aliquae fortasse inessent in sermone nostro doctrinarum notae cumque vulgo scripta nostra legerentur, dissimulare me didicisse? Quid erat cur probarem nisi quod parum fortasse profeceram? quod cum ita sit, tamen ea quae supra dicta sunt plus in disputando quam ea de quibus dicendum est dignitatis habuerunt.

For we shall speak of the composing of words and of the all but counting and measuring out of syllables; and these, even if they are necessary, as they seem to me to be, are nonetheless practised more magnificently than they are taught. This is altogether true, but it is said with particular aptness in the present matter. For in all great arts, as in trees, it is the height that delights us, not in the same way the roots and the stocks; yet the former cannot exist without the latter. As for me, whether that most familiar verse, which forbids us to be ashamed to profess openly the art we practise, does not allow me to dissemble the thing in which I take delight; or whether your own zeal has wrung this volume from me — still, an answer had to be given to those whom I suspected would find something to reproach.

de verbis enim componendis et de syllabis prope modum dinumerandis et dimetiendis loquemur; quae etiam si sunt, sicuti mihi videntur, necessaria, tamen fiunt magnificentius quam docentur. Est id omnino verum, at proprie in hoc dicitur. Nam omnium magnarum artium sicut arborum altitudo nos delectat, radices stirpesque non item; sed esse illa sine his non potest. Me autem sive pervulgatissimus ille versus, qui vetat artem pudere proloqui quam factites, dissimulare non sinit qui delecter, sive tuum studium a me hoc volumen expressit, tamen eis quos aliquid reprehensuros suspicabar respondendum fuit.

But even if what I have said were not so, who, after all, would show himself so hard and boorish as not to grant me this indulgence: that, when my arts of the Forum and my public pleadings had collapsed, I should give myself not to idleness, which I cannot do, nor to gloom, which I resist, but rather to letters? — letters which formerly led me into the courts and into the Senate-house, and now console me at home; and not only with such matters as this book contains, but with far weightier and greater ones as well. If these are brought to completion, then surely my domestic, indoor letters will answer to my greatest affairs of the Forum, both at home and abroad. But let us return to the discussion we have undertaken.

quod si ea quae dixi non ita essent, quis tamen se tam durum agrestemque praeberet qui hanc mihi non daret veniam, ut cum meae forenses artes et actiones publicae concidissent, non me aut desidiae, quod facere non possum, aut maestitiae, cui resisto, potius quam litteris dederem? quae quidem me antea in iudicia atque in curiam deducebant, nunc oblectant domi; nec vero talibus modo rebus qualis hic liber continet, sed multo etiam gravioribus et maioribus; quae si erunt perfectae, profecto maximis rebus forensibus nostris et externis inclusae et domesticae litterae respondebunt. Sed ad institutam disputationem revertamur.

Words, then, will be arranged either so that they cohere among themselves as aptly as possible, last with first, and so that they consist of the most pleasant-sounding utterances; or so that the very form and symmetry of the words completes its own rounded period; or so that the whole construction falls rhythmically and aptly. And let us look first at the nature of that which most of all demands diligence: that there be formed, as it were, a certain structure, and yet that it not be formed with visible labour; for the toil would be both endless and childish. This is what Scaevola, in Lucilius, wittily mocks in Albucius: ‘How prettily your phrases are set together, like little tesserae, all in mosaic-work, with inlaid patterns running like worm-tracks!’

conlocabuntur igitur verba, aut ut inter se quam aptissime cohaereant extrema cum primis eaque sint quam suavissimis vocibus, aut ut forma ipsa concinnitasque verborum conficiat orbem suum, aut ut comprehensio numerose et apte cadat. Atque illud primum videamus quale sit, quod vel maxime desiderat diligentiam, ut fiat quasi structura quaedam nec tamen fiat operose; nam esset cum infinitus tum puerilis labor; quod apud Lucilium scite exagitat in Albucio Scaevola: quam lepide lexis compostae ut tesserulae omnes arte pavimento atque emblemate vermiculato!

I do not wish this minute construction to show itself; yet a practised pen will readily produce a formula for composing. For just as in reading the eye, so in speaking the mind will look ahead to what follows, lest the collision of the last words with the first that come after produce either gaping or harsh sounds. For however pleasant and weighty the thoughts may be, nonetheless, if they are uttered with the words ill-set, they will offend the ears, whose judgment is most haughty. And this, indeed, the Latin tongue so heeds that no one is so rustic as to be unwilling to join the vowels.

nolo haec tam minuta constructio appareat; sed tamen stilus exercitatus efficiet facile formulam componendi. Nam ut in legendo oculus sic animus in dicendo prospiciet quid sequatur, ne extremorum verborum cum insequentibus primis concursus aut hiulcas voces efficiat aut asperas. Quamvis enim suaves gravesque sententiae tamen, si incondite positis verbis efferuntur, offendent auris, quarum est iudicium superbissimum. Quod quidem Latina lingua sic observat, nemo ut tam rusticus sit qui vocalis nolit coniungere.

On this point some even find fault with Theopompus for having so studiously avoided that collision of vowels, although his own teacher Isocrates had done the same. But Thucydides did not avoid it, nor did Plato, a writer not a little greater than he — and not only in those compositions which are called dialogues dialogoi, where it had even to be done on purpose, but also in that public oration in which it is the custom at Athens to praise before the assembly those who have fallen in battle: an oration so highly approved that, as you know, it must be recited every year on the appointed day. In it that frequent meeting of vowels occurs, the very thing which Demosthenes for the most part avoids as a fault.

in quo quidam etiam Theopompum reprehendunt, quod eas litteras tanto opere fugerit, etsi idem magister eius Isocrates fecerat; at non Thucydides, ne ille quidem haud paulo maior scriptor Plato nec solum in eis sermonibus qui dia/logoi dicuntur, ubi etiam de industria id faciendum fuit sed in populari oratione, qua mos est Athenis laudari in contione eos qui sint in proeliis interfecti; quae sic probata est, ut eam quotannis, ut scis, illo die recitari necesse sit. In ea est crebra ista vocalium concursio, quam magna ex parte ut vitiosam fugit Demosthenes.

But the Greeks may see to their own affairs; for us it is not permitted, even if we should wish it, to pull voices apart. Those somewhat rough orations of Cato bear witness to it; all the poets bear witness, except those who, to make their verse come out, often left a gap of vowels, as Naevius does — “you who dwell along the Danube’s stream and the cold,” and likewise: “which never to you Greeks and barbarians”; whereas Ennius does so often — “unconquered Scipio” — and once at least — “with this motion the radiant Etesian winds upon the shoals of the sea.”

sed Graeci viderint; nobis ne si cupiamus. quidem distrahere voces conceditur. Indicant orationes illae ipsae horridulae Catonis, indicant omnes poetae praeter eos qui, ut versum facerent, saepe hiabant, ut Naevius: vos, qui accolitis Histrum fluvium atque algidam et ibidem: quam numquam vobis Grai atque barbari. at Ennius saepe Scipio invicte, et semel quidem nos: hoc motu radiantis etesiae in vada ponti.

This same thing our writers would more often not have tolerated, which the Greeks are even accustomed to praise. But why do I speak of vowels? Even without vowels they often contracted words for the sake of brevity, so that they would say multi’ modis for “in many ways,” in vas’ argenteis for “in vessels of silver,” palmi’ crinibus for “with palm-like locks,” tecti’ fractis for “with shattered roofs.” And what could be more licentious than that they even contracted the names of men, so that these might be the more fitting? For just as duellum became bellum and duis became bis, so the man who crushed the Carthaginians at sea — Duellius — they named Bellius, although his ancestors had always been called Duellii. Indeed words too are often contracted not for use’s sake but for the ear’s. For how did your own Axilla become Ala, if not by the flight of a too-rugged letter? — a letter which the elegant usage of the Latin tongue plucks out also from maxillae and taxilli and paxillus and vexillum.

hoc idem nostri saepius non tulissent, quod Graeci laudare etiam solent. Sed quid ego vocalis? sine vocalibus saepe brevitatis causa contrahebant, ut ita dicerent: multi’ modis, in vas’ argenteis, palmi’ crinibus, tecti’ fractis. Quid vero licentius quam quod hominum etiam nomina contrahebant, quo essent aptiora? nam ut duellum bellum, et duis bis, sic Duellium eum qui Poenos classe devicit Bellium nominaverunt, cum superiores appellati essent semper Duellii. Quin etiam verba saepe contrahuntur non usus causa sed aurium. Quo modo enim vester Axilla Ala factus est nisi fuga litterae vastioris? quam litteram etiam e maxillis et taxillis et paxillo et vexillo consuetudo elegans Latini sermonis evellit.

They also gladly joined words by coupling them, as sodes for si audes (“if you please”), sis for si vis (“if you wish”). And in the single word capsis there are three words. They say ain for aisne, nequire for non quire, malle for magis velle, nolle for non velle; and we often say dein and exin for deinde and for exinde. And tell me, does it not betray its own origin, the fact that we say cum illis but do not say cum nobis, but rather nobiscum? — because, if it were said the other way, the letters would meet too obscenely, as in fact they would have met just now, had I not interposed a word. From this comes mecum and tecum, not cum me and cum te, so that it should be like nobiscum and vobiscum.

libenter etiam copulando verba iungebant, ut sodes pro si audes, sis pro si vis. Iam in uno capsis tria verba sunt. Ain pro aisne, nequire pro non quire, malle pro magis velle, nolle pro non velle, dein etiam saepe et exin pro deinde et pro exinde dicimus. Quid, illud non olet unde sit, quod dicitur cum illis, cum autem nobis non dicitur, sed nobiscum? quia si ita diceretur, obscaenius concurrerent litterae, ut etiam modo, nisi autem interposuissem, concurrissent. Ex eo est mecum et tecum, non cum me et cum te, ut esset simile illis nobiscum atque vobiscum.

And there are even some who now, all too late, set about correcting antiquity, finding fault with these usages. For in place of deum atque hominum fidem (“by the faith of gods and men”) they say deorum. So, I suppose, the old writers did not know this? Or did custom grant them this license? And so that same poet who had made these more unusual contractions — “of my father I am ashamed of my deed” (patris mei meum factum pudet) for meorum factorum, and “it is woven, ruin sweeps off the swarm” for exitiorum — does not say liberum, as most of us speak when we say “fond of children” or use the word in the genitive plural of children, but as those archaizers prefer: “nor may you ever lift into your lap a brood of children sprung from you” (liberorum), and again: “for of Aesculapius’ children” (liberorum). But that other poet, in his Chryses, gives us not only — “citizens, ancient friends of my forefathers” (maiorum meum), which was customary — but even, more harshly: “partners in counsel, interpreters of augury and entrails” (socii, augurium atque extum); and the same goes on: “after the horror-bearing prodigy, the portent of dread” (pavos) — forms which are surely not in common use among all neuter nouns. For I would not so gladly say armum iudicium (“the judgment of arms”) — though it stands in that same poet: “has nothing reached you about the judgment of the arms?” — as I would say “a century of carpenters” (centuriam fabrum) and “of suitors” (procum),

atque etiam a quibusdam sero iam emendatur antiquitas, qui haec reprehendunt. Nam pro deum atque hominum fidem deorum aiunt. Ita credo hoc illi nesciebant: an dabat hanc consuetudo licentiam? itaque idem poeta qui inusitatius contraxerat: patris mei meum factum pudet pro meorum factorum, et texitur, exitium examen rapit pro exitiorum,non dicit liberum, ut plerique loquimur, cum cupidos liberum aut in liberum loco dicimus, sed ut isti volunt: neque tuom umquam in gremium extollas liberorum ex te genus, et idem: namque Aesculapi liberorum. at ille alter in Chryse non solum: cives, antiqui amici maiorum meum, quod erat usitatum, sed durius etiam: consilium socii, augurium atque extum interpretes; idemque pergit: postquam prodigium horriferum, portentum pavos; quae non sane sunt in omnibus neutris usitata. Nec enim dixerim tam libenter armum iudicium,—etsi est apud eundem: nihilne ad te de iudicio armum accidit?— quam centuriam fabrum et procum,

as the censors’ registers express it — I make bold to say it — not fabrorum or procorum; while plainly “the court of the two men” (duorum virorum) or “of the three men for capital cases” (trium virorum) or “of the ten men for adjudicating disputes” (decem virorum) I say never. And what did Accius say? “I see two tombs of two bodies” (duorum corporum); and the same poet, “one woman of two men” (duum virum). I understand what is correct; but sometimes I speak as is conceded, as I say either pro deum or pro deorum, and at other times as is necessary, when I say trium virum, not virorum, and sestertium nummum, not sestertiorum nummorum, since in these cases usage is not divided.

ut censoriae tabulae loquuntur, audeo dicere, non fabrorum aut procorum; planeque duorum virorum iudicium aut trium virorum capitalium aut decem virorum stlitibus iudicandis dico numquam. Et quid dixit Accius? video sepulcra duo duorum corporum; idemque mulier una duum virum. quid verum sit intellego; sed alias ita loquor ut concessum est, ut hoc vel pro deum dico vel pro deorum, alias ut necesse est, cum trium virum, non virorum, et sestertium nummum, non sestertiorum nummorum, quod in his consuetudo varia non est.

What of the fact that they forbid us to say nosse, iudicasse, and bid us say novisse and iudicavisse? As if, in fact, we did not know that in this kind both the full word is rightly said and the shortened one is said by usage! And so Terence uses both: “Hey, you — did you not know your own kinsman?” (non noras); and afterward the same poet, “Stilpo, I say — you had known him” (noveras). Sient is the full form, sint the shortened one; one may use either. So in the same author: “how dear these things are they perceive only by lacking them, and how great the dominion of the things they hold” (sient). Nor indeed would I reproach scripsere alii rem, although I feel that scripserunt is the truer form; but I gladly defer to a usage that indulges the ears. “The same plain holds it,” says Ennius (isdem); and in the temples, EIDEM PROBAVIT (“the same men approved it”); yet isdem was truer, and not, however, eisdem, which would be too rich; isdem sounded ill; from custom it was obtained that one might err for the sake of euphony. And I would more gladly say posmeridianas quadrigas than postmeridianas quadriiugas, and, by Hercules, me hercule rather than me hercules. Non scire now seems quite barbarous; nescire is sweeter. And the very word meridies (“midday”) — why not medidies?

quid quod sic loqui, nosse, iudicasse vetant, novisse iubent et iudicavisse? quasi vero nesciamus in hoc genere et plenum verbum recte dici et imminutum usitate. Itaque utrumque Terentius: eho tu, cognatum tuom non noras? post idem Stilponem inquam noveras. Sient plenum est, sint imminutum; licet utare utroque. Ergo ibidem: quae quam sint cara post carendo intellegunt, quamque attinendi magni dominatus sient. Nec vero reprehenderim scripsere alii rem et scripserunt esse verius sentio, sed consuetudini auribus indulgenti libenter obsequor. isdem campus habet inquit Ennius; et in templis: EIDEM PROBAVIT; at isdem erat verius, nec tamen eisdem ut opimius.; male sonabat isdem: impetratum est a consuetudine ut peccare suavitatis causa liceret. Et posmeridianas quadrigas quam postmeridianas quadriiugas libentius dixerim et me hercule quam me hercules. Non scire quidem barbarum iam videtur, nescire dulcius. Ipsum meridiem cur non medidiem?

Because, I suppose, it was less pleasant. There is the one preposition af, which now survives only in the ledgers of receipts — and not even in those of everyone — while in the rest of speech it has been altered; for we say amovit and abegit and abstulit, so that by now you can hardly tell whether the true form is a, or ab, or abs. And what of this — that abfugit seemed ugly and they would not have abfer, but preferred aufugit and aufer? — a preposition which, except in these two words, will be found in no other word at all. Noti and navi and nari were known forms; and since in ought to be prefixed to them, it seemed sweeter to say ignotos, ignavos, ignaros than as truth demanded. They say ex usu and e re publica, because in the one a vowel followed, while in the other there would be harshness unless you removed the letter, as in exegit, edixit; refecit, rettulit, reddidit: the first letter of the joined word altered the preposition, as in subegit, summovit, sustulit.

credo, quod erat insuavius. † vna praepositio est af, quae nunc tantum in accepti tabulis manet ac ne his quidem omnium, in reliquo sermone mutata est; nam amovit dicimus et abegit et abstulit, ut iam nescias a’ne verum sit an ab an abs. Quid si etiam abfugit turpe visum est et abfer noluerunt, aufugit et aufer maluerunt? quae praepositio praeter haec duo verba nullo alio in verbo reperietur. Noti erant et navi et nari, quibus cum IN praeponi oporteret, dulcius visum est ignotos, ignavos, ignaros dicere quam ut veritas postulabat. Ex usu dicunt et e re publica, quod in altero vocalis excipiebat, in altero esset asperitas, nisi litteram sustulisses, ut exegit, edixit; refecit, rettulit, reddidit: adiuncti verbi prima littera praepositionem commutavit, ut subegit, summovit, sustulit.

And what of joined words? How neatly we say insipientem, not insapientem; iniquum, not inaequum; tricipitem, not tricapitem; concisum, not concaesum! On the strength of which some would even have pertisum, which that same custom did not approve. And what could be more refined than this, which arises not by nature but by a kind of established practice? We say indoctus with the first letter short, insanus with it lengthened; inhumanus short, infelix long. And, not to be tedious, in those words whose opening letters are the same as in sapiens and felix, it is pronounced long; in all the rest, short; and likewise composuit, consuevit, concrepuit, confecit. Consult truth: it will rebuke you; refer the matter to the ears: they will approve. Ask why it is so: they will say, because it gives pleasure. And speech ought to gratify the pleasure of the ears.

quid in verbis iunctis? quam scite insipientem non insapientem, iniquum non inaequum, tricipitem non tricapitem, concisum non concaesum! Ex quo quidam pertisum etiam volunt, quod eadem consuetudo non probavit. Quid vero hoc elegantius, quod non fit natura, sed quodam instituto? indoctus dicimus brevi prima littera, insanus producta, inhumanus brevi, infelix longa. Et, ne multis, quibus in verbis eae primae litterae sunt quae in sapiente atque felice, producte dicitur, in ceteris omnibus breviter; itemque composuit, consuevit, concrepuit, confecit. Consule veritatem: reprehendet; refer ad auris: probabunt. Quaere cur ita sit: dicent iuvare. Voluptati autem aurium morigerari debet oratio.

Indeed I myself, although I knew that our ancestors had so spoken as to use the aspirate nowhere except before a vowel, used to speak in such a way as to say pulcros, Cetegos, triumpos, Cartaginem; at length, and that late, when the truth had been wrung out of me by the ears’ protest, I yielded the usage of speech to the people and kept the knowledge to myself. Yet we say Orcivii and Matones, Otones, Caepiones, sepulcra, coronas, lacrimas, because the judgment of the ears permits it. Ennius always says Burrus, never Pyrrhus; “by force they laid open” — Bruges, not Phryges — as his own ancient books declare. For they did not employ the Greek letter, whereas now they employ even two; and since one would have to say Phrygum and Phrygibus, it would be absurd either to employ a Greek letter even in barbarian case-endings or to speak Greek only in the nominative; yet we say both Phryges and Pyrrhus for the ears’ sake.

quin ego ipse, cum scirem ita maiores locutos esse, ut nusquam nisi in vocali aspiratione uterentur, loquebar sic, ut pulcros, Cetegos, triumpos, Cartaginem dicerem; aliquando, idque sero, convicio aurium cum extorta mihi veritas esset, usum loquendi populo concessi, scienotiam mihi reservavi. Orcivios tamen et Matones, Otones, Caepiones, sepulcra, coronas, lacrimas dicimus, quia per aurium iudicium licet. Burrum semper Ennius, numquam Pyrrhum; vi patefecerunt Bruges, non Phryges, ipsius antiqui declarant libri. Nec enim Graecam litteram adhibebant, nunc autem etiam duas, et cum Phrygum et Phrygibus dicendum esset, absurdum erat aut etiam in barbaris casibus Graecam litteram adhibere aut recto casu solum Graece loqui; tamen et Phryges et Pyrrhum aurium causa dicimus.

Indeed there is something else — by now it seems rather countrified, though in old times it was more polished. Of those words whose last two letters were the same as in optimus, they used to drop the final letter, unless a vowel followed. So there was not in their verses that offense which the modern poets now avoid. For we used to speak thus: “who is foremost of all” (omnibu’ princeps), not omnibus princeps; and “worthy of that life and place” (dignu’ locoque), not dignus. But if untaught custom is so skilled an artificer of euphony, what should we suppose may be demanded of art itself and of learning?

quin etiam, quod iam subrusticum videtur, olim autem politius, eorum verborum, quorum eaedem erant postremae duae litterae, quae sunt in optimus, postremam litteram detrahebant, nisi vocalis insequebatur. Ita non erat ea offensio in versibus quam nunc fugiunt poetae novi. Sic enim loquebamur: qui est omnibu ’ princeps non omnibus princeps, et: vita illa dignu ’ locoque non dignus. Quod si indocta consuetudo tam est artifex suavitatis, quid ab ipsa tandem arte et doctrina postulari putamus?

I have said this more briefly than if I were arguing on this single subject — for this is a topic of wide extent, concerning the nature and the use of words — yet at greater length than my settled plan required. But since the judgment of matters and of words rests in good sense, while of sounds and rhythms the ears are the judges; and since the former are referred to the understanding, the latter to pleasure; and since in the former reason discovers the art, in the latter the senses do — it followed that either we had to neglect the inclination of the ears, by which we strove to win approval, or else the art of conciliating them had to be found out.

haec dixi brevius quam si hac de re una disputarem—est enim locus hic late patens de natura usuque verborum—longius autem quam instituta ratio postulabat. sed quia rerum verborumque iudicium in prudentia est, vocum autem et numerorum aures sunt iudices, et quod illa ad intellegentiam referuntur, haec ad voluptatem, in illis ratio invenit, in his sensus artem. Aut enim neglegenda fuit nobis voluntas aurium, quibus probari nitebamur, aut ars eius conciliandae reperienda.

There are, then, two things that soothe the ears: sound and rhythm. Of rhythm presently; now we inquire about sound. Words, as we said above, are to be chosen above all for sounding well — yet not, as the poets do, sought out for their sound, but taken from the common stock. “Where the sea of Helle, beyond Tmolus and the Tauric peaks” — the verse is illuminated by the splendid names of places, but the next is befouled by a most unpleasant letter: “the boundary of fruitful Asia, and her crowded fields, it holds.”

duae sunt igitur res quae permulceant auris, sonus et numerus. De numero mox, nunc de sono quaerimus. Verba, ut supra diximus, legenda sunt potissimum bene sonantia, sed ea non ut poetae exquisita ad sonum, sed sumpta de medio. qua pontus Helles, †supera Tmolum ac Tauricos†: locorum splendidis nominibus inluminatus est versus, sed proximus inquinatus insuavissima littera: finis frugifera et efferta arva Asiae tenet.

Therefore let us use the soundness of our own words rather than the splendor of Greek ones — unless perhaps we are loath to speak thus: “at the season when Paris carried off Helen,” and what follows. No, rather let us follow words like these, and shun harshness: “I hold that creature of dreadful crashing din,” and likewise: “crooked-spoken malice.” Nor will words be arranged by reason only, but they will also be brought to a close — since we have said that this is the second judgment of the ears. And they are brought to a close either by the arrangement itself and, as it were, of their own accord, or by a certain kind of words which themselves contain a symmetry. These — whether they have like case-endings at the close, or like is matched with like, or contraries are set against each other — are by their own nature rhythmical, even if nothing has been done on purpose.

qua re bonitate potius nostrorum verborum utamur quam splendore Graecorum, nisi forte sic loqui paenitet: qua tempestate Helenam Paris et quae sequuntur. Immo vero ista sequamur asperitatemque fugiamus: habeo istanc ego perterricrepam itemque: versutiloquas malitias. nec solum componentur verba ratione, sed etiam finientur, quoniam id iudicium esse alterum aurium diximus. Et finiuntur aut ipsa compositione et quasi sua sponte, aut quodam genere verborum, in quibus ipsis concinnitas inest; quae sive casus habent in exitu similis sive paribus paria redduntur sive opponuntur contraria, suapte natura numerosa sunt, etiam si nihil est factum de industria.

In the pursuit of this symmetry we have been told that Gorgias was the leader; of which kind are those words of ours in the speech for Milo: “For this, members of the jury, is a law not written but inborn — one which we have not learned, received, or read, but which we have seized, drawn off, and pressed out from nature herself; for which we were not trained but made, not instructed but steeped.” For things of this sort are such that, because they are referred to the end to which they ought to be referred, we recognize that the rhythm was not sought after but followed of itself.

in huius concinnitatis consectatione Gorgiam fuisse principem accepimus; quo de genere illa nostra sunt in Miloniana: Est enim, iudices, haec non scripta. sed nata lex, quam non didicimus, accepimus, legimus, verum ex natura ipsa arripuimus, hausimus, expressimus, ad quam non docti, sed facti, non instituti, sed imbuti sumus. Haec enim talia sunt, ut, quia referuntur eo quo debent referri, intellegamus non quaesitum esse numerum, sed secutum.

The same happens in the matching of contraries, as in those phrases by which not only rhythmical prose but even verse is produced: “her whom you accuse of no wrong, you condemn” — he would have said condemn (condemnas) who wished to escape a verse — “and her whom you declare to have deserved well, do you say deserves ill? what you know profits nothing; what you do not know does harm?” The very matching of contraries produces a verse. The same would be rhythmical in prose: “what you know profits nothing; what you do not know does much harm.” Always these figures, which the Greeks call antitheses antitheta, when contraries are set against contraries, produce an oratorical rhythm by the very necessity of the thing, even without effort.

quod fit item in contrariis referendis, ut illa sunt quibus non modo numerosa oratio sed etiam versus efficitur: eam quam nihil accusas damnas— condemnas dixisset qui versum effugere vellet —, bene quam meritam esse autumas dicis male merere? id quod scis prodest nihil; id quod nescis obest? versum efficit ipsa relatio contrariorum. Idem esset in oratione numerosum: quod scis nihil prodest; quod nescis multum obest. semper haec, quae Graeci a)nti/qeta nominant, cum contrariis opponuntur contraria, numerum oratorium necessitate ipsa efficiunt etiam sine industria.

The ancients took delight in this kind even before Isocrates, and most of all Gorgias, in whose discourse the symmetry itself for the most part produces the rhythm. We too have used it frequently in this kind, as in those passages in the fourth book of the prosecution: “Compare this peace with that war, the coming of this praetor with the victory of that commander, the foul retinue of this man with the unconquered army of that one, the lusts of this man with the self-command of that one: from him who took it you will say Syracuse was founded; from this man who received it founded, that it was taken.”

hoc genere antiqui iam ante Isocratem delectabantur et maxime Gorgias, cuius in oratione plerumque efficit numerum ipsa concinnitas. Nos etiam in hoc genere frequentes, ut illa sunt in quarto accusationis: Conferte hanc pacem cum illo bello, huius praetoris adventum cum illius imperatoris victoria, huius cohortem impuram cum illius exercitu invicto, huius libidines cum illius continentia: ab illo qui cepit conditas, ab hoc qui constitutas accepit captas dicetis Syracusas.

So let these rhythms be acknowledged, and let that third kind be unfolded — what its nature is, the nature of rhythmical and well-fitted prose. Those who do not perceive it, what sort of ears they have, or what there is in them resembling a human being, I do not know. My own, at any rate, take joy in a perfected and completed circuit of words, and feel a shortfall, and have no love for things that run over. And why do I say my own? I have often seen assemblies cry out aloud when the words have fallen aptly together. For this is what the ears await — that the thought be bound up by the words. “This was not so among the ancients.” And indeed it was almost the only thing that was not so among them; for they both chose their words and devised thoughts weighty and pleasing, but they bound them, or filled them out, too little.

ergo et hi numeri sint cogniti et genus illud tertium explicetur quale sit, numerosae et aptae orationis. Quod qui non sentiunt, quas auris habeant aut quid in his hominis simile sit nescio. Meae quidem et perfecto completoque verborum ambitu gaudent et curta sentiunt nec amant redundantia. Quid dico meas? contiones saepe exclamare vidi, cum apte verba cecidissent. Id enim exspectant aures, ut verbis conligetur sententia. ’ non erat hoc apud antiquos.’ Et quidem nihil aliud fere non erat; nam et verba eligebant et sententias gravis et suavis reperiebant, sed eas aut vinciebant aut explebant parum.

“This is the very thing that delights me,” they say. But what if that most ancient kind of painting, with its few colors, should please us more than this kind, now brought to perfection — must we, I suppose, go back to the one and reject the other! They glory in the names of the ancients. But just as in human ages old age has authority, so in models antiquity has it — and this carries the greatest weight with me too. Nor do I demand what antiquity lacks rather than praise what it has, especially since I judge the things it has to be greater than those it lacks. For there is more of value in words and in thoughts, in which those men excel, than in the rounding-off of thoughts, which they do not have. The rounded close was discovered later — which, I believe, those men of old would have used, had the thing then been known and in practice; and once it was discovered, we see that all the great orators used it.

’ hoc me ipsum delectat’ inquiunt. Quid si antiquissima illa pictura paucorum colorum magis quam haec iam perfecta delectet, illa nobis sit credo repetenda, haec scilicet repudianda! nominibus veterum gloriantur. Habet autem ut in aetatibus auctoritatem senectus, sic in exemplis antiquitas, quae quidem apud me ipsum valet plurimum. Nec ego id quod deest antiquitati flagito potius quam laudo quod est; praesertim cum ea maiora iudicem quae sunt quam illa quae desunt. Plus est enim in verbis et in sententiis boni, quibus illi excellunt, quam in conclusione sententiarum, quam non habent. post inventa conclusio est, qua credo usuros veteres illos fuisse, si iam nota atque usurpata res esset; qua inventa omnis usos magnos oratores videmus.

But the name carries odium, when in judicial and forensic oratory rhythm is said to be present — numerus in Latin, rhuthmos in Greek. For it seems that too much of a snare is laid for catching the ears, if rhythms too are sought by the orator in his speaking. Trusting in this, those men themselves speak in a broken and clipped fashion, and abuse those who deliver in a well-fitted and rounded way: if the words are empty and the thoughts trivial, with justice; but if the matter is sound and the words well chosen, what reason is there why they should prefer to make their speech limp or come to a halt rather than run on level with the thought? For this much-resented rhythm brings nothing else than this — that the thought be aptly compassed by the words; which is done even by the ancients, but for the most part by chance, often by nature; and the passages of theirs that are greatly praised are praised, as a rule, just because they are rounded off.

sed habet nomen invidiam, cum in oratione iudiciali et forensi numerus Latine, Graece r(uqmo/s inesse dicitur. Nimis enim insidiarum ad capiendas auris adhiberi videtur, si etiam in dicendo numeri ab oratore quaeruntur. Hoc freti isti et ipsi infracta et amputata loquuntur et eos vituperant qui apta et finita pronuntiant; si inanibus verbis levibusque sententiis, iure; sin probae res, lecta verba, quid est cur claudere aut insistere orationem malint quam cum sententia pariter excurrere? hic enim invidiosus numerus nihil adfert aliud nisi ut sit apte verbis comprehensa sententia; quod fit etiam ab antiquis, sed plerumque casu saepe natura; et quae valde laudantur apud illos, ea fere quia sunt conclusa laudantur.

And among the Greeks indeed it is now nearly four hundred years since this has been approved; we have only lately come to acknowledge it. Therefore, if it was permitted to Ennius, in his contempt for the old, to say, “in the verses which once the Fauns and seers used to chant,” shall it not be permitted me to speak in the same way of the ancients? — especially since I am not going to say, as he does, “before this man,” nor what follows: “I have dared to unbar.” For I have both delivered speeches and heard not a few in which the prose was brought to an all but perfect close. Those who cannot do this are not content not to be despised; they wish even to be praised. As for me, I praise those very men whose imitators these people call themselves — and praise them deservedly, even though I miss something in them; but these others not at all, who follow nothing of those men except their faults, while they fall as far as possible short of their merits.

et apud Graecos quidem iam anni prope quadringenti sunt cum hoc probatur; nos nuper agnovimus. Ergo Ennio licuit vetera contemnenti dicere: versibus, quos olim Fauni vatesque canebant, mihi de antiquis eodem modo non licebit? praesertim cum dicturus non sim ante hunc, ut ille, nec quae sequuntur: Nos ausi reserare;—egi enim audivique non nullos, quorum prope modum absolute concluderetur oratio. Quod qui non possunt, non est eis satis non contemni, laudari etiam volunt. Ego autem illos ipsos laudo idque merito, quorum se isti imitatores esse dicunt, etsi in eis aliquid desidero, hos vero minime, qui nihil illorum nisi vitium sequuntur, cum a bonis absint longissime.

But if they have ears so uncultivated and so boorish, will not even the authority of the most learned men move them? I pass over Isocrates and his disciples Ephorus and Naucrates — although, as the most weighty authorities on composing and adorning a speech, they ought themselves to have been the foremost orators. But who of all men was more learned, who keener, who more incisive in either inventing or judging matters, than Aristotle? And who, besides, opposed Isocrates more fiercely? Yet that very man forbids verse to be in oratory and bids there be rhythm. His pupil Theodectes — a writer and craftsman of the first polish, as Aristotle often signifies — both holds and teaches this same thing; and Theophrastus indeed treats the same subjects even more carefully. Who, then, would endure these people, who do not approve of such authorities? — unless they are altogether ignorant that these precepts come from them.

quod si auris tam inhumanas tamque agrestis habent, ne doctissimorum quidem virorum eos movebit auctoritas? omitto Isocratem discipulosque eius Ephorum et Naucratem, quamquam orationis faciendae et ornandae auctores locupletissimi summi ipsi oratores esse debebant. Sed quis omnium doctior, quis acutior, quis in rebus vel inveniendis vel iudicandis acrior Aristotele fuit? quis porro Isocrati est adversatus infensius? is igitur versum in oratione vetat esse, numerum iubet. Eius auditor Theodectes in primis, ut Aristoteles saepe significat, politus scriptor atque artifex hoc idem et sentit et praecipit; Theophrastus vero eisdem de rebus etiam accuratius. Quis ergo istos ferat, qui hos auctores non probent? nisi omnino haec esse ab eis praecepta nesciunt.

But if that is so — and I judge it to be no otherwise — well then, are they not moved by their own senses? Does nothing seem empty to them, nothing unshaped, nothing curtailed, nothing limping, nothing overflowing? In verse, at any rate, whole theaters cry out if there has been a single syllable too short or too long; and yet the crowd knows nothing of metrical feet, holds no rhythms, and does not understand what offends it, or care, or grasp wherein the offense lies; and nonetheless nature herself has lodged in our ears the judgment of all lengths and shortnesses in sounds, just as of high and low pitches of voice.

quod si ita est—nec vero aliter existimo— quid, ipsi suis sensibus non moventur? nihilne eis inane videtur, nihil inconditum, nihil curtum, nihil claudicans, nihil redundans? in versu quidem theatra tota exclamant, si fuit una syllaba aut brevior aut longior; nec vero multitudo pedes novit nec ullos numeros tenet nec illud quod offendit aut curat aut in quo offendit intellegit; et tamen omnium longitudinum et brevitatum in sonis sicut acutarum graviumque vocum iudicium ipsa natura in auribus nostris conlocavit.

Do you wish then, Brutus, that we should unfold this whole topic even more carefully than those very men did who handed down both this and other matters to us — or can we be content with what has been said by them? But why do I ask whether you wish it, when from your most learnedly written letter I have perceived that you wish it above all else? First, then, let the origin be unfolded; next the cause; then the nature; and last of all the practice itself of well-fitted and rhythmical prose. For those who most admire Isocrates count it among his highest praises that he was the first to join rhythms to unbound prose. For when he saw that orators were heard with severity but poets with pleasure, then, it is said, he sought after rhythms, to use them even in prose, both for the sake of charm and so that variety might forestall satiety.

visne igitur, Brute, totum hunc locum accuratius etiam explicemus quam illi ipsi, qui et haec et alia nobis tradiderunt, an his contenti esse quae ab illis dicta sunt possumus? sed quid quaero velisne, cum litteris tuis eruditissime scriptis te id vel maxime velle perspexerim? primum ergo origo, deinde causa, post natura, tum ad extremum usus ipse explicetur orationis aptae atque numerosae. nam qui Isocratem maxime mirantur, hoc in eius summis laudibus ferunt, quod verbis solutis numeros primum adiunxerit. Cum enim videret oratores cum severitate audiri, poetas autem cum voluptate, tum dicitur numeros secutus, quibus etiam in oratione uteretur, cum iucunditatis causa tum ut varietas occurreret satietati.

Which is said by them with some truth in part, but not as a whole. For it must be granted that no one handled this kind more knowingly than Isocrates; but the first to discover it was Thrasymachus, all of whose writings survive — and indeed survive too rhythmically. For, as I said a little before, the joining of like to like and the closing of clauses in like manner, and likewise the matching of contraries with contraries — which of their own accord, even if you do not work at it, for the most part fall out rhythmically — Gorgias was the first to discover, but he used them too immoderately. And this kind, as was said before, is one of the three parts of arrangement.

quod ab eis vere quadam ex parte, non totum dicitur. Nam neminem in eo genere scientius versatum Isocrate confitendum est, sed princeps inveniendi fuit Thrasymachus, cuius omnia nimis etiam exstant scripta numerose. Nam, ut paulo ante dixi, paria paribus adiuncta et similiter definita itemque contrariis relata contraria, quae sua sponte, etiam si id non agas, cadunt plerumque numerose, Gorgias primum invenit, sed eis est usus intemperatius. Id autem est genus, ut ante dictum est, ex tribus partibus conlocationis alterum.

Both of these men came before Isocrates in age, so that he surpassed them in restraint, not in invention. For as he is more temperate in transferring and coining words, so is he more sedate in the rhythms themselves. But Gorgias is too greedy for that kind, and abuses these elegant flourishes — for so he himself esteems them — with too little restraint; which Isocrates nonetheless tempered more moderately, after he had heard Gorgias as a young man in Thessaly, when the man was already old. Indeed, the further he advanced in age — for he completed nearly a hundred years — the more he relaxed his hold from the excessive constraint of rhythms, as he declares in that book which he wrote to Philip of Macedon, when he was by then quite an old man; in which he says that he now serves rhythms less than he had been wont. So he had corrected not only his predecessors but even his own self.

horum uterque Isocratem aetate praecurrit, ut eos ille moderatione, non inventione vicerit. Est enim, ut in transferendis faciendisque verbis tranquillior sic in ipsis numeris sedatior. Gorgias autem avidior est generis eius et his festivitatibus—sic enim ipse censet—insolentius abutitur; quas Isocrates tamen, cum audivisset adulescens in Thessalia senem iam Gorgiam, moderatius temperavit. Quin etiam se ipse tantum quantum aetate procedebat—prope enim centum confecit annos—relaxabat a nimia necessitate numerorum, quod declarat in eo libro quem ad Philippum Macedonem scripsit, cum iam admodum esset senex; in quo dicit sese minus iam servire numeris quam solitus esset. Ita non modo superiores sed etiam se ipse correxerat.

Since, then, we have those leaders and originators of well-fitted prose whom we have named, and the origin has been found, let the cause be sought. It is so plain that I wonder the ancients were not moved by it — especially since, as happens, they often by chance said something in a closely rounded and well-fitted way. And when this had struck the minds and the ears of men, so that one could perceive that what chance had poured out had fallen out pleasantly, surely the kind was to be marked, and they ought to have imitated themselves. For the ears themselves, or the mind through the report of the ears, contain within themselves a certain natural measure of all utterances.

quoniam igitur habemus aptae orationis eos principes auctoresque quos diximus et origo inventa est, causa quaeratur. Quae sic aperta est, ut mirer veteres non esse com- motos, praesertim cum, ut fit, fortuito saepe aliquid concluse apteque dicerent. Quod cum animos hominum aurisque pepulisset, ut intellegi posset id quod casus effudisset cecidisse iucunde, notandum certe genus atque ipsi sibi imitandi fuerunt. Ipsae enim aures vel animus aurium nuntio naturalem quandam in se continet vocum omnium mensionem.

And so they judge both the longer and the shorter, and always look for the perfect and the measured; some things they feel to be mutilated and, as it were, cut short, and at these they take offense, as though defrauded of what is owed; others they feel to be too drawn out and, as it were, running over with too little restraint, and these the ears reject even more — as in most things, so in this kind, what is excessive offends more violently than what seems too little. Therefore, just as the verse of poetry was discovered by the ears’ setting of bounds and by the observation of skilled men, so in prose it was noticed — much later, to be sure, but with the same nature giving the prompt — that there are certain fixed courses and closes of words.

itaque et longiora et breviora iudicat et perfecta ac moderata semper exspectat; mutila sentit quaedam et quasi decurtata, quibus tamquam debito fraudetur offenditur, productiora alia et quasi immoderatius excurrentia, quae magis etiam aspernantur aures; quod cum in plerisque tum in hoc genere nimium quod est offendit vehementius quam id quod videtur parum. Vt igitur poeticae versus inventus est terminatione aurium, observatione prudentium, sic in oratione animadversum est, multo illud quidem serius, sed eadem natura admonente, esse quosdam certos cursus conclusionesque verborum.

Since, then, we have shown the cause too, let us now, if you please, unfold the nature — for that was the third point; a discussion which does not belong to the plan of this present conversation, but to the innermost art. For it may be asked what the rhythm of prose is, and where it is placed, and from what it has arisen, and whether it is one or two or more, and by what method it is composed, and to what end and when and in what place and in what manner it brings, when employed, some measure of pleasure.

quoniam igitur causam quoque ostendimus, naturam nunc—id enim erat tertium—si placet explicemus; quae disputatio non huius instituti sermonis est, sed artis intimae. Quaeri enim potest, qui sit orationis numerus et ubi sit positus et natus ex quo, et is unusne sit an duo an plures quaque ratione componatur et ad quam rem et quando et quo loco et quem ad modum adhibitus aliquid voluptatis adferat.

But as in most matters, so in this, there is a twofold way of considering it: of which the one is longer, the other shorter — and the same also plainer. The first question belonging to the longer way is whether there is any rhythmical prose at all; for to some it does not seem so, because there is nothing fixed in it as there is in verse, and because those very men who affirm that these rhythms exist cannot render the reason why they exist. Next, if there is rhythm in prose, of what sort it is or sorts, and whether from the poetic rhythms or from some other kind, and, if from the poetic, which of them it is or are; for to some only one, to others several, to others all of them seem the same. Next, whatever they are, whether one or several, whether they are common to every kind of prose — since one kind is for narrating, another for persuading, another for instructing — or whether different rhythms are suited to each kind of prose; if common, which they are; if different, what the difference is, and why rhythm does not appear in prose as equally as in verse.

sed ut in plerisque rebus sic in hac duplex est considerandi via quarum altera est longior, brevior altera, eadem etiam planior. est autem longioris prima illa quaestio sitne omnino ulla numerosa oratio; quibusdam enim non videtur, quia nihil insit in ea certi ut in versibus, et quod ipsi, qui adfirment esse eos numeros, rationem cur sint non queant reddere. Deinde, si sit numerus in oratione, qualis sit aut quales, et e poeticisne numeris an ex alio genere quodam et, si e poeticis, quis eorum sit aut qui; namque aliis unus modo aliis plures aliis omnes idem videntur. Deinde, quicumque sunt sive unus sive plures, communesne sint omni generi orationis —quoniam aliud genus est narrandi aliud persuadendi aliud docendi—an dispares numeri cuique orationis generi accommodentur; si communes, qui sint; si dispares, quid intersit, et cur non aeque in oratione atque in versu numerus appareat.

Next, when we call a piece of prose rhythmical, is that quality produced by rhythm alone, or also by a certain arrangement, or by a certain choice of words? Or has each its own province — rhythm appearing in the intervals, arrangement in the sounds, the very choice of words showing itself as a kind of form and brilliance in the discourse — so that arrangement is the source of all, and from it are produced both the rhythm and those things that are called, as it were, the forms and brilliances of speech, which, as I said, the Greeks call schēmata (figures)?

deinde, quod dicitur in oratione numerosum, id utrum numero solum efficiatur, an etiam vel compositione quadam vel genere verborum; an sit suum cuiusque, ut numerus intervallis, compositio vocibus, genus ipsum verborum quasi quadam forma et lumine orationis appareat, sitque omnium fons compositio ex eaque et numerus efficiatur et ea quae dicuntur orationis quasi formae et lumina, quae, ut dixi, Graeci vocant sxh/mata.

But it is not one and the same thing that is pleasing to the ear, that is brought to perfection by measure, and that is illuminated by the choice of words — though this last is indeed close kin to rhythm, since for the most part it is complete in itself. Arrangement, however, differs from both, for it is wholly given over to the weight or the sweetness of the sounds. These, then, are roughly the matters in which the nature of the thing must be sought.

at non est unum nec idem quod voce iucundum est et quod moderatione absolutum et quod inluminatum genere verborum; quamquam id quidem finitimum est numero, quia per se plerumque perfectum est; compositio autem ab utroque differt, quae tota servit gravitati vocum aut suavitati. Haec igitur fere sunt in quibus rei natura quaerenda sit.

That there is, then, a certain rhythm in prose is not hard to recognise. For the ear is the judge of it; and in this it is unfair not to acknowledge what occurs simply because we cannot discover why it occurs. For the line of verse itself was not recognised by reasoning, but by nature and by the ear, which reasoning, having measured it out, afterward taught what was happening. Thus the observation of nature and close attention gave birth to the art. But in verse the matter is more open to view — although prose too, when certain measures are stripped of their song, seems to be set free into rhythm, and most of all in each of the best of those poets whom the Greeks name lyrikoi (lyric poets): once you have stripped these of their song, what remains is almost bare prose.

esse ergo in oratione numerum quendam non est difficile cognoscere. Iudicat enim sensus; in quo est iniquum quod accidit non agnoscere, si cur id accidat reperire nequeamus. Neque enim ipse versus ratione est cognitus, sed natura atque sensu, quem dimensa ratio docuit quid accideret. Ita notatio naturae et animadversio peperit artem. Sed in versibus res est apertior, quamquam etiam a modis quibusdam cantu remoto soluta esse videtur oratio maximeque id in optimo quoque eorum poetarum qui lurikoi\ a Graecis no- minantur, quos cum cantu spoliaveris, nuda paene remanet oratio.

There are some things much like these even among our own poets, such as that passage in the Thyestes: “Whom shall I say you are? you who in halting old age ” — and what follows; which, unless the flute-player has joined in, are most like prose set loose. But the senarii of the comic poets, because of their resemblance to ordinary talk, are often so flattened that sometimes the rhythm and the verse can scarcely be made out in them. For which reason rhythm is harder to find in prose than in verse.

quorum similia sunt quaedam etiam apud nostros, velut illa in Thyeste: quemnam te esse dicam? qui tarda in senecta et quae sequuntur; quake, nisi cum tibicen accessit, orationis sunt solutae simillima. At comicorum senarii propter similitudinem sermonis sic saepe sunt abiecti, ut non numquam vix in eis numerus et versus intellegi possit. Quo est ad inveniendum difficilior in oratione numerus quam in versibus.

In all there are two things that season prose: the pleasantness of the words and of the rhythms. In the words there lies, as it were, a kind of raw material, but in the rhythm the polishing. Yet, as in everything else, the inventions of necessity are older than those of pleasure.

omnino duo. sunt quae condiant orationem, verborum numerorumque iucunditas. In verbis inest quasi materia quaedam, in numero autem expolitio. Sed ut ceteris in rebus necessitatis inventa antiquiora sunt quam voluptatis.

And so both Herodotus and the same and the earlier age were without rhythm, except where it came in at random and by chance; and the very ancient writers left us nothing at all about rhythm, but many precepts about prose — for what is both easier and more necessary is always learned first. Thus words transferred in meaning, or coined, or compounded were easily understood, because they were taken from common and everyday speech. Rhythm, on the other hand, was not fetched from the household stores, nor did it have any necessary tie or kinship with prose. And so, observed and recognised somewhat later, it brought to prose a kind of training-ground and its final outlines.

itaque et Herodotus et eadem superiorque aetas numero caruit nisi quando temere ac fortuito, et scriptores perveteres de numero nihil omnino, de oratione praecepta multa nobis reliquerunt. —nam quod et facilius est et magis necessarium, id semper ante cognoscitur— ita translata aut facta aut coniuncta verba facile sunt cognita, quia sumebantur e consuetudine cotidianoque sermone. Numerus autem non domo depromebatur neque habebat aliquam necessitudinem aut cognationem cum oratione. Itaque serius aliquanto notatus et cognitus quasi quandam palaestram et extrema liniamenta orationi attulit.

But if one kind of prose is cramped and clipped, and another expanded and flowing, this must come about not from the nature of the letters but from the variety of long and short intervals; and since prose, interwoven and blended of these, is now firm-footed, now swift in motion, it follows that the nature of rhythm is contained in a force of this kind. For that periodic sweep, which we have now often spoken of, is carried along and glides the more rapidly for the rhythm itself, until it reaches its end and comes to rest. It is clear, then, that prose ought to be bound by rhythms and free of verses.

quod si et angusta quaedam atque concisa et alia est dilatata et fusa oratio, necesse est id non litterarum accidere natura, sed intervallorum longorum et brevium varietate; quibus implicata atque permixta oratio quoniam tum stabilis est tum volubilis, necesse est eius modi vi naturam numeri contineri. Nam circuitus ille, quem saepe iam diximus, incitatior numero ipso fertur et labitur, quoad perveniat ad finem et insistat. Perspicuum est igitur numeris astrictam orationem esse debere, carere versibus.

But whether these rhythms are poetic or of some other kind is the next thing to be examined. There is, then, no rhythm outside the poetic, for the kinds of rhythm are fixed and limited. For every such rhythm is of a sort to be one of three. The foot, which is brought into use for rhythm, is divided into three parts, so that one part of the foot must be either equal to the other part, or twice as great, or half as great again. Thus the dactyl turns out equal, the iamb double, the paean half again as great; and how can these feet fail to fall into prose? When they are set in due order, what results must of necessity be rhythmical.

sed hi numeri poeticine sint an ex alio genere quodam deinceps est videndum. Nullus est igitur numerus extra poeticos, propterea quod definita sunt genera numerorum. Nam omnis talis est, ut unus sit e tribus. Pes enim, qui adhibetur ad numeros, partitur in tria, ut necesse sit partem pedis aut aequalem esse alteri parti aut altero tanto aut sesqui esse maiorem. Ita fit aequalis dactylus, duplex iambus, sesquiplex paean; qui pedes in orationem non cadere qui possunt? quibus ordine locatis quod efficitur numerosum sit necesse est.

But the question is what rhythm, or which rhythms above the rest, are to be used. That they all fall into prose can be understood from this too — that we often utter verses in prose without meaning to. This is a serious fault, but we do not attend to it nor catch ourselves at it; senarii indeed, and Hipponactean lines, we can scarcely escape, for our prose consists in great part of iambs. And yet the hearer easily recognises those verses, for they are the most familiar; but unawares we often work in even less familiar ones, which are verses all the same — a faulty thing, and to be guarded against by long forethought of the mind.

sed quaeritur quo numero aut quibus potissimum sit utendum. Incidere vero omnis in orationem etiam ex hoc intellegi potest, quod versus saepe in oratione per imprudentiam dicimus. Est id vehementer vitiosum, sed non attendimus neque exaudimus nosmet ipsos; senarios vero et Hipponacteos effugere vix possu- mus; magnam enim partem ex iambis nostra constat oratio. Sed tamen eos versus facile agnoscit auditor; sunt enim usitatissimi; inculcamus autem per imprudentiam saepe etiam minus usitatos, sed tamen versus: vitiosum genus et longa animi provisione fugiendum.

Hieronymus the Peripatetic, a man of the first distinction, picked out of the many books of Isocrates perhaps thirty verses, most of them senarii, but anapaests too — and what could be more disgraceful than that? Yet in the selecting he acted with malice; for, taking away the first syllable from the first word of a sentence, he joined to the last word again the first syllable of the following sentence; and so was produced the anapaest that is called Aristophanic. That this should not happen can neither be watched against nor needs to be. But for all that, this fault-finder, in the very passage in which he finds fault — as was noticed by me when I was studiously inquiring into his case — unawares lets slip a senarius of his own. Let this, then, be taken as established: that rhythms are present even in unbound prose, and that they are the same for the orator as for the poet.

elegit ex multis Iso- crati libris triginta fortasse versus Hieronymus Peripateticus in primis nobilis, plerosque senarios, sed etiam anapaestos; quo quid potest esse turpius? Etsi in legendo fecit malitiose; prima enim syllaba dempta ex primo verbo sententiae postremum ad verbum primam rursus syllabam adiunxit insequentis sententiae; ita factus est anapaestus is qui Aristophaneus nominatur; quod ne accidat observari nec potest nec necesse est. Sed tamen hic corrector in eo ipso loco quo reprehendit, ut a me animum adversum est studiose inquirente in eum, immittit imprudens ipse senarium. Sit igitur hoc cognitum in solutis etiam verbis inesse numeros eosdemque esse oratorios qui sint poetici.

It follows, then, that we must consider which rhythms fall best into a well-shaped prose. For there are those who think it is the iambic, since it is most like ordinary prose — and that this is why it is the foot chiefly employed in plays, because of its likeness to real speech, whereas that dactylic rhythm of the hexameter is better suited to grand utterance. Ephorus, however — himself a smooth orator, and trained in the best school — pursues the paean or the dactyl, but shuns the spondee and the trochee. Because the paean had three short syllables, and the dactyl two, he holds that the brevity and quickness of the syllables makes the words glide more readily, and that the opposite happens with the spondee and the trochee: since the one consists of long syllables and the other of short, the prose becomes either too headlong or too slow, and neither is held in measure.

sequitur ergo ut qui maxime cadant in orationem aptam numeri videndum sit. Sunt enim qui iambicum putent, quod sit orationis simillimus, qua de causa fieri ut is potissimum propter similitudinem veritatis adhibeatur in fabulis, quod ille dactylicus numerus hexametrorum magniloquentiae sit accommodatior. Ephorus autem, levis ipse orator et profectus ex optima disciplina, paeana sequitur aut dactylum, fugit autem spondeum et trochaeum. Quod enim paean habebat tris brevis, dactylus autem duas, brevitate et celeritate syllabarum labi putat verba proclivius contraque accidere in spondeo et trochaeo; quorum quod alter e longis constet alter e brevibus, fieri alteram nimis incitatam alteram nimis tardam orationem, neutram temperatam.

But both those earlier men are mistaken, and Ephorus is at fault. For those who pass over the paean do not see that they are passing over the gentlest of rhythms, and at the same time the most ample. Aristotle holds quite otherwise: he judges that the heroic rhythm is grander than unbound prose requires, while the iamb is drawn too much from common talk. So he approves a prose neither low and abject nor too lofty and overblown, but he would have it full of weight, that it may be able to carry its hearers over into greater admiration.

sed et illi priores errant et Ephorus in culpa est. Nam et qui paeana praetereunt, non vident mollissimum a sese numer m eundemque amplissimum praeteriri. Quod longe Aristoteli videtur secus, qui iudicat heroum numerum grandiorem quam desideret soluta oratio, iambum autem nimis e vul- gari esse sermone. Ita neque humilem et abiectam oratio- nem nec nimis altam et exaggeratam probat, plenam tamen eam vult esse gravitatis, ut eos qui audient ad maiorem admirationem possit traducere.

The trochee, however, which occupies the same span as the choree, he calls the cordax (the lewd dance-step), because its contraction and brevity have no dignity. Thus he approves the paean, and says that all use it, but that they do not feel it when they do; that it is a third kind, midway between those others; and that all those feet are so constituted that in each single one there is a ratio either of half again, or of double, or of equal. And so the men of whom I spoke before took account only of convenience, none of dignity.

trochaeum autem, qui est eodem spatio quo choreus, cordacem appellat, qia con- tractio et brevitas dignitatem non habeat. Ita paeana pro- bat eoque ait uti omnis, sed ipsos non sentire cum utantur; esse autem tertium ac medium inter illos, et ita fatos eos pedes esse, ut in eis singulis modus insit aut sesqui lex aut duplex aut par. Itaque illi de quibus ante dixi tantum modo commoditatis habuerunt rationem, nullam dignitatis.

For the iamb and the dactyl fall above all into verse; and therefore, just as we shun verse in prose, so these feet are to be avoided in unbroken succession — for prose is something other, and nothing is more its enemy than verses. The paean, on the other hand, is least suited to verse, and for that reason prose has welcomed it the more gladly. Ephorus, indeed, does not even understand that the spondee, which he shuns, is equal to the dactyl, which he approves; for he reckons that feet are to be measured by syllables, not by intervals — and he does the same with the trochee, which in its times and intervals is equal to the iamb, yet is faulty in prose if it is set at the close, because words fall better into longer syllables. And these same things which are in Aristotle are said about the paean by Theophrastus and Theodectes.

iambus enim et dactylus in versum cadunt maxime itaque ut versum fugimus in oratione, sic hi sunt evitandi continuati pedes; aliud enim quiddam est oratio nec qicquam inimicius quam illa versibus; paean autem minime est aptus ad versum, quo libentius eum recepit oratio. Ephous vero ne spondeum quidem, quem fugit, intellegit esse aequalem dactylo, quem probat. Syllabis enim metiendos pedes, non intervallis existimat; quod idem facit in trochaeo, qui temporibus et intervallis est par iambo, sed eo vitiosus in oratione, si ponatur extremus, quod verba melius in syllabas longiores cadunt. Atque haec, quae sunt apud Aristotelem, eadem a Theophrasto Theodecteque de paeane dicuntur.

For my own part, I hold that all the feet are, as it were, mingled and blended together in prose; for we could not escape notice if we always used the same ones, since prose ought neither to be rhythmical, like a poem, nor outside rhythm, like the talk of the crowd — the one is too tightly bound, so that it appears done deliberately, the other too loosely slack, so that it seems aimless and common; by the one you would not be delighted, the other you would detest.

ego autem sentio omnis in oratione esse quasi permixtos et confusos pedes, nec enim effugere possemus animad- versionem, si semper isdem uteremur, quia nec numerosa esse, ut poema, neque extra numerum, ut sermo vulgi, esse debet oratio—alterum nimis est vinctum, ut de industria factum appareat, alterum nimis dissolutum, ut pervagatum ac vulgare videatur; ut ab altero non delectere, alterum oderis—;

Let prose, then, as I said above, be mingled and tempered with rhythms, neither slack nor wholly rhythmical, governed by the paean above all, since the best authority so judges, but tempered also with the other rhythms which he passes over. Now it must be said which rhythms ought to be blended with which — like blending purple into a fabric — and, further, which are most suited to which kinds of speech. For the iamb is commonest in matters delivered in a lowered and humble style;

sit igitur, ut supra dixi, permixta et temperata numeris nec dissoluta nec tota numerosa, paeane maxime, quoniam optimus auctor ita censet, sed reliquis etiam nu- meris, quos ille praeterit, temperata. quos autem numeros cum quibus tamquam purpuram misceri oporteat nunc dicendum est atque etiam quibus orationis generibus sint quique accommodatissimi. Iambus enim frequentissimus est in eis quae demisso atque humili sermone dicuntur;

the paean in the loftier; and in both the dactyl. And so in prose that is varied and continuous these are to be mingled and tempered with one another. In this way the angling for delight, and the labour of squaring the prose, will least be noticed; and it will lie all the more hidden if we also draw upon the weights of words and of thoughts. For those who listen mark these two things and reckon them pleasing to themselves — words, I mean, and thoughts — and while with attentive minds they take them in with admiration, the rhythm escapes them and flies past unobserved; and yet, if it were absent, those very things would give less delight.

paean autem in amplioribus, in utroque dactylus. Itaque in varia et perpetua oratione hi sunt inter se miscendi et temperandi. Sic minime animadvertetur delectationis aucupium et quadrandae orationis industria; quae latebit eo magis, si et verborum et sententiarum ponderibus utemur. Nam qui audiunt haec duo animadvertunt et iucunda sibi censent, verba dico et sententias, eaque dum animis attentis admirantes excipiunt, fugit eos et prae- tervolat numerus; qui tamen si abesset, illa ipsa delecta- rent minus.

Nor indeed is the running of rhythms such — of prose, I mean, for it is far otherwise in verse — that nothing is done outside measure; for that would be a poem; rather, prose is held rhythmical when it advances all of it neither limping nor, so to speak, billowing, but evenly and steadily. And that is reckoned rhythmical in speaking which consists not wholly of rhythms, but which comes closest to rhythms; and for this reason it is harder to handle prose than verse, because in verse there is a certain fixed and definite law that must be followed, whereas in speaking nothing is laid down except that the prose be not unmeasured or cramped or slack or runaway. And so there are in it no beats of percussion, as for a flute-player, but the whole compass and contour of the prose is shut off and bounded — a thing judged by the pleasure of the ear.

nec vero is cursus est numerorum—orationis dico, nam est longe aliter in versibus—, nihil ut fiat extra modum; nam id quidem esset poema; sed omnis nec claudicans nec quasi fluctuans sed aequabiliter constanter- que ingrediens numerosa habetur oratio. Atque id in dicendo numerosum putatur, non quod totum constat e numeris, sed quod ad numeros proxime accedit; quo etiam difficilius est oratione uti quam versibus, quod in illis certa quaedam et definita lex est, quam sequi sit necesse; in dicendo autem nihil est propositum, nisi ut ne immo- derata aut angusta aut dissoluta aut fluens sit oratio. Itaque non sunt in ea tamquam tibicini percussionum modi, sed universa comprehensio et species orationis clausa et ter- minata est, quod voluptate aurium iudicatur.

It is usually asked, however, whether the rhythms are to be maintained throughout the whole circuit of the words, or in the first parts and in the last; for most think it enough that the sentence should fall and end rhythmically. But the truth is that this should be done supremely, not only there; for that circuit is to be set in place, not flung away. Therefore, since the ears always wait for the end and find their rest in it, that end ought not to be void of rhythm; rather, that compass of words should be borne toward this close from the very beginning, and should flow on as a whole from its head, so that, coming to the end, it may itself come to a stand.

solet autem quaeri totone in ambitu verborum numeri tenendi sint an in primis partibus atque in extremis; plerique enim censent cadere tantum numerose oportere termi- narique sententiam. Est autem, ut id maxime deceat, non ut solum; ponendus est enim ille ambitus, non abiciendus. Qua re cum aures extremum semper exspectent in eoque acquiescant, id vacare numero non oportet, sed ad hunc exitum iam a principio ferri debet verborum illa compre- hensio et tota a capite ita fluere, ut ad extremum veniens ipsa consistat.

And for those trained in a good discipline, who have written much and have made even whatever they say without writing resemble what is written, this will not be very hard. For the thought is first marked out in the mind, and at once the words come running up, which that same mind — than which nothing is swifter — straightway sends out, so that each may answer to its own place; and the marshalled order of these is closed off, now with one ending, now with another. And all those words, both first and middle, ought to look toward the last.

id autem bona disciplina exercitatis, qui et multa scripserint et quaecumque etiam sine scripto dicent similia scriptorum effecerint, non erit difficillimum. Ante enim circumscribitur mente sententia confestimque verba concurrunt, quae mens eadem, qua nihil est celerius, statim dimittit, ut suo quodque loco respondeant; quorum di- scriptus ordo alias alia terminatione concluditur. Atque omnia illa et prima et media verba spectare debent ad ultimum.

For at times the running of prose is more headlong, at times the advance is measured, so that from the very beginning one must see by what road one wishes to come to the end. And in rhythms no more than in the other ornaments of prose — though we do the same things the poets do — we nevertheless escape, in prose, the likeness of a poem. For in each there is both material and handling: the material is in the words, the handling in the placing of the words. And of each there are three parts: of words, the transferred, the new, the old — for of words in their proper sense I say nothing in this place; of placing, those we have named — arrangement, symmetry, rhythm.

interdum enim cursus est in oratione incitatior, interdum moderata ingressio, ut iam a principio videndum sit quem ad modum velis venire ad extremum. Nec in numeris magis quam in reliquis ornamentis orationis, eadem cum faciamus quae poetae, effugimus tamen in oratione poematis similitudinem. Est enim in utroque et materia et tractatio: materia in verbis, tractatio in conlocatione ver- borum. ternae autem sunt utriusque partes: verborum translatum, novum, priscum-nam de propriis nihil hoc loco dicimus—; conlocationis autem eae quas diximus, com- positio, concinnitas, numerus.

But in both the poets are more frequent and freer; for they transfer words both oftener and more boldly, and use old words more readily and new ones more freely. The same happens in rhythms, in which they are compelled, as it were, to obey necessity. And yet one may understand that these arts are neither too far apart nor in no way joined. So it comes about that rhythm shows itself not in prose as it does in verse, and that what is called rhythmical in prose does not always come about by rhythm, but sometimes by the symmetry or the construction of words.

sed in utroque frequen- tiores sunt et liberiores poetae; nam et transferunt verba cum crebrius tum etiam audacius et priscis libentius utuntur et liberius novis. Quod idem fit in numeris, in quibus quasi necessitati parere coguntur. Sed tamen haec nec nimis esse diversa neque nullo modo coniuncta intellegi licet. Ita fit ut non item in oratione ut in versu numerus exstet idque quod numerosum in oratione dicitur non semper numero fiat, sed non numquam aut concinnitate aut constructione verborum.

Thus, if the question is what the rhythm of prose is — it is all rhythm, but one kind is better and apter than another; if where its place is — in every part of the words; if from what source it springs — from the pleasure of the ear; if the method of composing it — that will be told in another place, since it belongs to practice, which was the fourth and last part of our division; if to what end it is brought into use — to give delight; if when — always; if in what place — in the whole continuous sweep of the words; if what it is that produces the pleasure — the same as in verses, whose measure the art marks out, but which the ears themselves define by a silent feeling, without art.

ita si numerus orationis quaeritur qui sit, omnis est, sed alius alio melior atque aptior; si locus, in omni parte verborum; si unde ortus sit, ex aurium voluptate; si componendorum ratio, dicetur alio loco, quia pertinet ad usum, quae pars quarta et extrema nobis in dividendo fuit; si ad quam rem adhibeatur, ad delectationem; si quando, semper; si quo loco, in tota continuatione verborum; si quae res efficiat voluptatem, eadem quae in versibus, quorum modum notat ars, sed aures ipsae tacito eum sensu sine arte definiunt.

Enough has been said about the nature of the thing; practice follows, on which we must dispute more closely. Here it has been asked whether rhythm is to be maintained throughout that whole circuit of prose — which the Greeks call a periodon (period), and we call now a circuit, now a compass, now a rounding-off, or a continuation, or a circumscription — or only at the beginnings, or only at the ends, or in both parts; and then, since rhythm seems to be one thing and the rhythmical another, what the difference is.

satis multa de natura; sequitur usus, de quo est accu- ratius disputandum. In quo quaesitum est in totone cir- cuitu illo orationis, quem Graeci peri/odon, nos tum ambitum, tum circuitum, tum comprehensionem aut continuationem aut circumscriptionem dicimus, an in principiis solum an in extremis an in utraque parte numerus tenendus sit; deinde cum aliud videatur esse numerus aliud numero- sum, quid intersit.

And further, whether it is fitting to cut the segments off in all rhythms equally, or to make some shorter and others longer, and when this should be done or why; and with which parts — with several or with single ones, unequal or equal — and when one is to use these or those; and which are most aptly placed together, and in what way; or whether there is no distinction at all in that kind; and — what bears most upon the matter — by what method prose is made rhythmical.

tum autem in omnibusne numeris aequaliter particulas deceat incidere an facere alias breviores alias longiores, idque quando aut cur; quibusque partibus, pluribusne an singulis, imparibus an aequalibus, et quando aut istis aut illis sit utendum; quaeque inter se aptissime conlocentur et quo modo, an omnino nulla sit in eo genere distinctio; quodque ad rem maxime pertinet, qua ratione numerosa fiat oratio.

It must also be explained whence the form of the words arose, and it must be said how long the circuits should be made, and there must be discussion of their parts and, so to speak, their cuttings, and inquiry whether there is one kind and length of them, or several, and, if several, in what place or when or of what sort each ought to be used. Last of all, the usefulness of the whole kind must be set out — which indeed extends rather widely, for it is adapted not to one single thing, but to several.

explicandum etiam est unde orta sit forma verborum dicendumque quantos circuitus facere deceat deque eorum particulis et tamquam incisionibus disserendum est quaerendumque utrum una species et longitude sit earum anne plures et, si plures, quo loco aut quando quoque genere uti oporteat. Postremo totius generis utilitas explicanda est, quae quidem patet latius; non ad unam enim rem aliquam, sed ad pluris accommodatur.

And it is open to us, without answering point by point, so to speak of the kind as a whole that the single points too may seem to have been sufficiently answered. Setting aside, then, the other kinds, we have chosen out this one alone, which is concerned with cases and the Forum, to speak of. Now in the others — that is, in history and in what we call epideiktikon (the display style) — it is approved that everything be said in the manner of Isocrates and Theopompus, with that rounding-off and compass, so that the prose may run as though enclosed in a circle, until it comes to rest upon thoughts each completed and brought to its close.

ac licet non ad singula respondentem de universo genere sic dicere, ut etiam singulis satis responsum esse videatur. Remotis igitur reliquis generibus unum selegimus hoc, quod in causis foroque versatur, de quo diceremus. Ergo in aliis, id est in historia et in eo quod appellamus e)pideiktiko/n, placet omnia dici Isocrateo Theopompeoque more illa cir- cumscriptione ambituque, ut tamquam in orbe inclusa currat oratio, quoad insistat in singulis perfectis absolutis- que sententiis.

And so, after this — call it circumscription, or compass, or continuation, or circuit, if one may so speak — was born, no one of any standing has written prose of that kind which is framed for delight and removed from trials and the contests of the Forum without bringing nearly all his thoughts into square and rhythm. For when the hearer is one who has no fear that his trust is being assailed by the snares of well-arranged prose, he is even grateful to the orator for serving the pleasure of his ears.

itaque postea quam est nata haec vel circumscriptio vel comprehensio vel continuatio vel ambitus, si ita licet dicere, nemo, qui aliquo esset in numero, scripsit orationem generis eius quod esset ad delectationem com- paratum remotumque a iudiciis forensique certamine, quin redigeret omnis fere in quadrum numerumque sententias. Nam cum is est auditor qui non vereatur ne compositae orationis insidiis sua fides attemptetur, gratiam quoque habet oratori voluptati aurium servienti.

This kind of prose, however, is neither to be taken up entire for forensic cases nor altogether to be rejected; for if you use it always, then it brings on satiety, and besides, even the untrained recognise it for what it is; moreover it takes away the feeling of the plea, it carries off the human sympathy of the hearer, it utterly destroys truth and conviction. But since it must sometimes be employed, the first thing to see is in what place, then how long it is to be kept up, and then in how many ways it is to be varied.

genus autem hoc orationis neque totum adsumendum est ad causas forensis neque omnino repudiandum, si enim semper utare, cum satietatem adfert tum quale sit etiam ab imperitis agnosci- tur; detrahit praeterea actionis dolorem, aufert humanum sensum auditoris, tollit funditus veritatem et fidem. Sed quoniam adhibenda non numquam est, primum videndum est quo loco, deinde quam diu retinenda sit, tum quot modis commutanda.

Rhythmical prose, then, is to be employed if something is to be praised more ornately — as I praised the bounty of Sicily in the second book of the prosecution, and as in the Senate I spoke of my consulship — or if a narrative is to be set out which calls for dignity rather than pathos, as in the fourth book of the prosecution I spoke of the Ceres of Henna, the Diana of Segesta, the situation of Syracuse. Often, too, in amplifying a subject, prose pours forth, by everyone’s leave, rhythmical and fluent. This perhaps I have not brought to perfection, though I have very often attempted it; and that we wished and strove in mind to do so, our perorations in very many places declare. But this has force only when the man who listens is already held fast by the orator and in his grip. For then he is not bent on lying in wait and watching, but already favours him, and wishes him on, and, admiring the power of the speaking, does not search out what to blame.

adhibenda est igitur numerosa oratio, si aut laudandum est aliquid ornatius, ut nos in accusationis secundo de Siciliae laude diximus, ut in senatu de consulatu meo, aut exponenda narratio, quae plus dignitatis desiderat quam doloris, ut in quarto accusationis de Hennensi Cerere, de Segestana Diana, de Syracusarum situ diximus. Saepe etiam in amplificanda re concessu omnium funditur numerose et volubiliter oratio. Id nos fortasse non perfecimus, conati quidem saepissime sumus; quod plurimis locis perorationes nostrae voluisse nos atque animo contendisse declarant. Id autem tum valet cum is qui audit ab oratore iam obsessus est ac tenetur. Non enim id agit ut insidietur et observet, sed iam favet processumque vult dicendique vim admirans non anquirit quid reprehendat.

This shape, however, is not to be maintained for long — and I do not mean in the peroration, which by its nature encloses such a structure, but in the remaining parts of a speech. For once you have made use of those passages in which I have shown that it is permissible, the whole manner of expression must be shifted over to those units which — though the Greeks call them kommata and kōla — we, I cannot think why, less than correctly call phrases and clauses. For there can be no familiar names for things that are unfamiliar; but since we are accustomed, whether for the sake of charm or for want of a term, to transfer words from one use to another, this happens in all the arts: when a thing must be named which, owing to the very ignorance of the things themselves, has had no name before, necessity compels us either to coin a new word or to borrow one from something similar.

haec autem forma retinenda non diu est, nec dico in per- oratione, quam ipsam includit, sed in orationis reliquis partibus. Nam cum sis eis locis usus quibus ostendi licere, transferenda tota dictio est ad illa quae nescio cur, cum Graeci ko/mmata et kw=la nominent, nos non recte incisa et membra dicamus. Neque enim esse possunt rebus ignotis nota nomina, sed cum verba aut suavitatis aut inopiae causa transferre soleamus, in omnibus hoc fit artibus, ut, cum id appellandum sit quod propter rerum ignorationem ipsarum nullum habuerit ante nomen, necessitas cogat aut novum facere verbum aut a simili mutuari.

In what way it is fitting to speak in phrases and in clauses we shall see presently; for now I must speak of how many ways periods and their closings may be varied. Rhythm, on the whole, flows now more quickly, by the shortness of its feet, now more slowly, by their length. The pace of the running is what contentious passages demand, slowness what the setting out of facts requires. The circuit comes to rest in several measures, of which there is one that Asia in particular followed — the one called the double trochee, when the two final feet are trochees, that is, each made of a long and a short. (For it must be explained that the same feet are named by different writers under different terms.)

quo autem pacto deceat incise membratimve dici iam videbimus; nunc quot modis mutentur comprehensiones conclusionesque dicendum est. Fluit omnino numerus a primo tum incitatius brevitate pedum, tum proceritate tardius. Cursum contentiones magis requirunt, expositiones rerum tarditatem. Insistit autem ambitus modis pluribus, e quibus unum est secuta Asia maxime, qui dichoreus vocatur, cum duo extremi chorei sunt, id est e singulis longis et brevibus. Explanandum est enim, quod ab aliis eidem pedes aliis vocabulis nominantur.

The double trochee is not, indeed, of itself faulty in the close; but in the rhythm of prose nothing is so faulty as for it always to be the same. And that very foot falls of itself admirably — for which reason satiety is all the more to be dreaded. When I myself was standing by, C. Carbo, son of Gaius, tribune of the plebs, said this in an assembly, in these words: O Marcus Drusus, I appeal to your father — these two, indeed, in two phrases, each of two feet; then by clauses: You used to say that the commonwealth is a sacred thing — these likewise are clauses, of three feet each; then a circuit:

dichoreus non est ille quidem sua sponte vitiosus in clausulis, sed in orationis numero nihil est tam vitiosum quam si semper est 1idem. Cadit autem per se ille ipse praeclare, quo etiam satietas formidanda est magis. Me stante C. Carbo C. F. tribunus plebis in contione dixit his verbis: 0 Marce Druse, patrem appello—haec quidem duo binis pedibus incisim; dein membratim: Tu dicere solebas sacram esse rem publicam;—haec item membra ternis; post ambitus:

that whoever had violated her had paid the penalty in full to all — a double trochee; for it makes no difference to the matter whether that final syllable is long or short; then: The father’s saying the son’s rashness has proved true — by this double trochee so great an outcry was roused from the assembly that it was a marvel. I ask: is it not the rhythm that achieved this? Change the order of the words, make it run thus: has proved true the son’s rashness, and at once there will be nothing — even though "rashness" is made of three shorts and a long, the very measure which Aristotle approves as best, in which I disagree with him. "But the words are the same, the sense the same."

quicumque eam violavissent, ab omnibus esse ei poenas persolutas;—dichoreus; nihil enim ad rem, extrema illa longa sit an brevis; deinde: Patris dictum sapiens temeritas fili comprobavit—hoc dichoreo tantus clamor contionis exci- tatus est, ut admirabile esset. Quaero nonne id numerus effecerit? Verborum ordinem immuta, fac sic: Comprobavit fili temeritas, iam nihil erit, etsi temeritas ex tribus brevibus et longa est, quem Aristoteles ut optimum probat, a quo dissentio. ’At eadem verba, eadem sententia.’

For the mind that is enough; for the ears it is not enough. But this should not be done too often: for first the rhythm is recognized, then it cloys, and afterward, once the trick of it is understood, it is held in contempt. Yet there are several closes that fall rhythmically and agreeably. For the cretic, which is made of a long, a short, and a long, and its equivalent the paean, which is equal in span though longer by a syllable, is thought to be very conveniently bound into loose prose, since it is twofold. For it is made either of a long and three shorts, a measure which thrives at the opening but lies flat at the close, or of as many shorts and a long, the one into which the ancients judge it falls best; I do not flatly reject this, but I prefer others.

animo istuc satis est, auribus non satis. Sed id crebrius fieri non oportet; primum enim numerus agnoscitur, deinde satiat, postea cognita facilitate contemnitur. sed sunt clausulae plures, quae numerose et iucunde cadant. Nam et creticus, qui est e longa et brevi et longa, et eius aequalis paean, qui spatio par est, syllaba longior, quam commodissime putatur in solutam orationem inligari, cum sit duplex. Nam aut e longa est et tribus brevibus, qui numerus in primo viget, iacet in extremo, aut e totidem brevibus et longa, in quem optime cadere censent veteres; ego non plane reicio, sed alios antepono.

Not even the spondee is to be utterly repudiated, although, since it is made of two longs, it seems duller and slower; still, it has a certain steady step, not without dignity — and in phrases far more so, and in clauses; for it makes up for its scanty count of feet by its own gravity and slowness. But when I name these feet in the close, I am not speaking of a single final foot: I add — and this is the least — the one immediately before, and often a third as well.

ne spondeus quidem funditus est repudiandus, etsi, quod est e longis duabus, hebetior videtur et tardior; habet tamen stabilem quendam et non expertem dignitatis gradum, in incisionibus vero multo magis et in membris; paucitatem enim pedum gravitate sua et tarditate compensat. Sed hos cum in clausulis pedes nomino, non loquor de uno pede ex- tremo: adiungo, quod minimum sit, proximum superiorem, saepe etiam tertium.

Not even the iamb, which is made of a short and a long, or the trochee, which is equal to the foot of three shorts but equal in span, not in syllables, or even the dactyl, which is made of a long and two shorts — if it stands next to the last foot — arrives at the close with too little smoothness, provided the final foot is a trochee or a spondee; for it never matters which of the two stands in the final foot. But these same three feet make a poor conclusion if any of them is placed at the very end, except when the last is a dactyl in place of a cretic; for it makes no difference whether the dactyl is last or the cretic, since whether the final syllable is short or long does not matter even in verse.

ne iambus quidem, qui est e brevi et longa, aut par choreo qui habet tris brevis trochaeus, sed spatio par, non syllabis, aut etiam dactylus, qui est e long et duabus brevibus, si est proximus a postremo, parum volubiliter pervenit ad extremum, si est extremus choreus aut spondeus; numquam enim interest uter sit eorum in pede extremo. Sed idem hi tres pedes male concludunt, si quis eorum in extremo locatus est, nisi cum pro cretico postremus est dactylus; nihil enim interest dactylus sit extremus an creticus, quia postrema syllaba brevis an longa sit ne in versu quidem refert.

For which reason the man who said the paean was the more fitting on the ground that its last syllable was long saw too little, since it makes no difference how long the last syllable is. And further, the paean, because it has more than three syllables, is reckoned by some a rhythm, not a foot. It is indeed — as all the ancients agree, Aristotle, Theophrastus, Theodectes, Ephorus — the one most fitted to a speech, whether at its opening or in its middle; those writers think it fit even at the falling close, where the cretic seems to me the more fitting. The dochmiac, however, made of five syllables — a short, two longs, a short, a long, as in this case: You hold your friends — is fit in any position, provided it be set down only once: repeated or run on, it makes the rhythm too plain and too conspicuous.

qua re etiam paeana qui dixit aptiorem, in quo esset longa postrema, vidit parum, quoniam nihil ad rem est, postrema quam longa sit. Iam paean, quod pluris habeat syllabas quam tris, numerus a quibusdam, non pes habetur. Est quidem, ut inter omnis constat antiquos, Aristotelem, Theophrastum, Theodectem, Ephorum, unus aptissimus orationi vel orienti vel mediae; putant illi etiam cadenti, quo loco mihi videtur aptior creticus. Dochmius autem e quinque syllabis, brevi, duabus longis, brevi, longa, ut est hoc: Amicos tenes, quovis loco aptus est, dum semel ponatur: iteratus aut continuatus numerum apertum et nimis insignem facit.

If, then, we make use of these changes, so many and so varied, neither will it be detected outright that anything is being done by us on purpose, and satiety will be forestalled. And since rhythmic prose is made not by rhythm alone but also by the arrangement and by that kind of symmetry which has been spoken of before — by arrangement it can be understood, when the words are so built that the rhythm seems not sought after but to have followed of its own accord, as in Crassus: For where lust holds sway, innocence has but slight protection; here the order of the words produces the rhythm without any open effort on the orator’s part — and so, if those ancients, I mean Herodotus and Thucydides and that whole age, said anything aptly and rhythmically, it fell out so not by rhythm sought after but by the placing of the words.

his igitur tot commutationibus tamque variis si utemur, nec deprehendetur manifesto quid a nobis de industria fiat et occurretur satietati. Et quia non numero solum numerosa oratio sed et compositione fit et genere, quod ante dictum est, con- cinnitatis—compositione potest intellegi, cum ita structa verba sunt, ut numerus non quaesitus sed ipse secutus esse videatur, ut apud Crassum: Nam ubi libido dominatur, innocentiae leve praesidium est; ordo enim verborum efficit numerum sine ulla aperta oratoris industria—; itaque si quae veteres illi, Herodotum dico et Thucydidem totamque eam aetatem, apte numeroseque dixerunt, ea non numero quaesito, sed verborum conlocatione ceciderunt.

There are, moreover, certain shapes of speech in which the symmetry is such that rhythm follows of necessity. For when like is balanced against like, or contrary set against contrary, or words answering to words are paired with similar endings, whatever is so concluded for the most part falls out rhythmically — a kind of which we have spoken above, with examples — so that this resource too may afford the means of not always ending in the same way. And yet these things are not so cramped and bound that we cannot loosen them when we wish. There is a great difference between prose that is rhythmic — that is, like the rhythms — and prose that consists plainly of rhythms; if the latter happens, it is an intolerable fault; if the former does not happen, the prose is scattered and uncultivated and runs to waste.

formae vero quaedam sunt orationis, in quibus ea concinnitas est ut sequatur numerus necessario. Nam cum aut par pari refertur aut contrarium contrario opponitur aut quae simi- liter cadunt verba verbis comparantur, quidquid ita concluditur, plerumque fit ut numerose cadat, quo de genere cum exemplis supra diximus; ut haec quoque copia faculta- tem adferat non semper eodem modo desinendi. Nec tamen haec ita sunt arta et astricta, ut ea, cum velimus, laxare nequeamus. Multum interest utrum numerosa sit, id est similis numerorum, an plane e numeris constet oratio; alterum si fit, intolerabile vitium est, alterum nisi fit, dissipata et inculta et fluens est oratio.

But since it is not only not frequently but even rarely, in real cases or in forensic ones, that one ought to speak in rounded and rhythmic periods, it seems to follow that we should consider what those things are which I called above phrases and clauses. For in real cases these hold the greatest part of a speech. The circuit and the full period consists, as a rule, of four parts, which we call clauses, in such a way that it fills the ear and is neither shorter than is sufficient nor longer. And yet both sometimes happen — or rather, often — that one must either stop sooner or proceed further, lest brevity seem to have cheated the ear or length to have dulled it. But I keep an account of the mean; for I am not speaking of verse, and prose is somewhat freer. The full period, then, consists of about four lines, as it were on the scale of hexameter verses.

sed quoniam non modo non frequenter verum etiam raro in veris causis aut forensibus circumscripte numeroseque dicendum est, sequi videtur, ut videamus quae sint illa quae supra dixi incisa, quae membra. Haec enim in veris causis maximam partem orationis obtinent. Constat enim ille ambitus et plena comprehensio e quattuor fere partibus, quae membra dicimus, ut et auris impleat et neque brevior sit quam satis sit neque longior. Quamquam utrumque non numquam vel potius saepe accidit, ut aut citius insistendum sit aut longius procedendum, ne brevitas defrudasse auris videatur neve longitude obtudisse. Sed habeo mediocritatis rationem; nec enim loquor de versu et est liberior aliquanto oratio. E quattuor igitur quasi hexametrorum instar versuum quod sit constat fere plena comprehensio.

In these single lines, then, there appear, as it were, the knots of the continuation, which we join together in the circuit. But if we wish to speak by clauses, we come to rest, and, when there is need, we readily and often disengage ourselves from that invidious running. But nothing ought to be so rhythmic as this, which least appears and avails the most. Of this kind is that passage of Crassus: Let them dismiss their advocates; let them come forward themselves — had he not set let them come forward themselves at an interval, he would surely have felt that he had poured out a senarius; on the whole it would fall out better as themselves come forward; but it is the kind of thing I am now discussing —

his igitur singulis versibus quasi nodi apparent continuationis, quos in ambitu coniungimus. Sin membratim volumus dicere, insistimus atque, cum opus est, ab isto cursu invidioso facile nos et saepe diiungimus. Sed nihil tam debet esse numerosum quam hoc, quod minime apparet et valet plurimum. Ex hoc genere illud est Crassi: Missos faciant patronos; ipsi prodeant;—nisi intervallo dixisset ipsi prodeant, sensisset profecto se fudisse senarium; omnino melius caderet prodeant ipsi; sed de genere nunc disputo;—

Why do they assail us with secret designs? Why do they muster forces against us out of our own deserters? The first two are those which the Greeks call kommata, we phrases; then the third is what they call a kōlon, we a clause; there follows one not long — for the period is completed out of two lines, that is, clauses, and falls into spondees; and Crassus, indeed, for the most part spoke in this way, and this kind of speaking I myself most approve. But the things that are brought out in phrases or in clauses ought to fall most aptly of all, as in this passage of mine: Did you lack a house? But you had one. Had you money to spare? But you were in want;

cur clandestinis consiliis nos op- pugnant? cur de perfugis nostris copias comparant contra nos? Prima sunt illa duo, quae ko/mmata Graeci vocant, nos incisa dicimus; deinde tertium kw=lon illi, nos mem- brum; sequitur non longa—ex duobus enim versibus, id est membris, perfecta comprehensio est et in spondeos cadit; et Crassus quidem sic plerumque dicebat, idque ipse genus dicendi maxime probo. sed quae incisim aut membratim efferuntur, ea vel aptissime cadere debent, ut est apud me: Domus tibi deerat? at habebas. Pecunia superabat? at egebas;

these were spoken in four phrases; but the two that follow are by clauses: Out of your senses, you ran headlong into the columns; out of your mind, you raged against what was not yours. Then everything is held up, as if on a kind of base, by a longer period: You valued your house, sunk and blind and prostrate, at more than yourself and more than your fortunes. It is closed with a double trochee. But the foregoing closes with spondees. For in those passages, which one ought to use as little daggers, brevity itself will make the feet freer; for one must often use single feet, for the most part two, and to each may be added part of a foot, but generally not more than three.

haec incise dicta sunt quattuor; at membratim quae sequuntur duo: Incurristi amens in columnas, in alienos insanus insanisti. Deinde omnia tamquam crepidine quadam comprehensione longiore sus- tinentur: Depressam, caecam, iacentem domum pluris quam te et quam fortunas tuas aestimasti. Dichoreo finitur. At spondeis proximum illud. Nam in his, quibus ut pugiunculis uti oportet, brevitas faciet ipsa liberiores pedes; saepe enim singulis utendum est, plerumque binis, et utrisque addi pedis pars potest, non fere ternis amplius.

A speech handled in phrases and in clauses avails the most in real cases, and most of all in those passages where you either bring a charge or refute one, as I did in the second speech for Cornelius: O the cunning men! O the contrivance! O the genius to be feared! — by clauses thus far; then by cuts: We said it; again by clauses: We are willing to produce witnesses. The final period follows, but out of two clauses, than which it cannot be shorter: Which of us, I ask, did it deceive that you would act so?

incisim autem et membratim tractata oratio in veris causis plurimum valet, maximeque eis locis, cum aut arguas aut refellas, ut nos in Corneliana secunda: O callidos homines, o rem excogitatam, o ingenia metuenda! Membratim adhuc; deinde caesim: Diximus, rursus membratim: Tes- tis dare volumus. Extrema sequitur comprehensio, sed ex duobus membris, qua non potest esse brevior: Quem, quaeso, nostrum fefellit ita vos esse facturos?

Nor is there any kind of speaking either better or stronger than to strike with two or three words, sometimes with single ones, a little elsewhere with more, among which, with varied closes, a rhythmic period interposes itself rarely; and Hegesias, fleeing it perversely, while he too wishes to imitate Lysias, almost a second Demosthenes, dances as he chops up his little particles. And that man indeed offends no less in his thoughts than in his words, so that whoever has come to know him need not look about for someone to call inept. But I have set down those passages of Crassus and my own, that anyone who wished might judge by the ears themselves what is rhythmic even in the smallest particles of a speech. And since we have said more about rhythmic prose than anyone before us, we shall now speak of the usefulness of this kind.

nec ullum genus est dicendi aut melius aut fortius quam binis aut ternis ferire verbis, non numquam singulis, paulo alias pluribus, inter quae variis clausulis interponit se raro numerosa comprehensio; quam perverse fugiens Hegesias, dum ille quoque imitari Lysiam vult alterum paene Demosthenem, saltat incidens particulas. Et is quidem non minus sen- tentiis peccat quam verbis, ut non quaerat quem appellet ineptum qui illum cognoverit. Sed ego illa Crassi et nostra posui, ut qui vellet auribus ipsis quid numerosum etiam in minimis particulis orationis esset iudicaret. Et quoniam plura de numerosa oratione diximus quam quisquam ante nos, nunc de eius generis utilitate dicemus.

For there is nothing else, Brutus — as you, least of all men, are unaware — in speaking beautifully and like an orator than to speak with the best thoughts and the choicest words. And no thought brings the orator any fruit unless it is aptly and fully set out, nor does the brilliance of words appear unless they are carefully placed, and rhythm sets both of these in their light; yet rhythm — for this must often be attested — is not only not poetically bound, but even flees that bondage and is most unlike it of all things; not that the rhythms are not the same, not only of orators and of poets but of all who speak, indeed of all sounds whatever that we can measure by the ear, but the order of the feet makes what is uttered seem like prose or like poetry.

nihil enim est aliud, Brute, quod quidem tu minime omnium ignoras, pulchre et oratorie dicere nisi optimis sententiis verbisque lectissimis dicere. Et nec sententia ulla est quae fructum oratori ferat, nisi apte exposita atque absolute, nec verborum lumen apparet nisi diligenter conlocatorum, et horum utrumque numerus inlustrat; numerus autem—saepe enim hoc testandum est—non modo non poetice vinctus verum etiam fugiens ilium eique omnium dissimillimus; non quin idem sint numeri non modo ora- torum et poetarum verum omnino loquentium, denique etiam sonantium omnium quae metiri auribus possumus, sed ordo pedum facit, ut id quod pronuntiatur aut orationis aut poematis simile videatur.

This, then — whether it please you to call it arrangement, or finish, or rhythm — must necessarily be employed, if you would speak with ornament; and not only, as Aristotle and Theophrastus say, lest the speech be carried on without limit like a river, which ought to come to rest not by the breath of the speaker or by the punctuation of the copyist but as compelled by rhythm, but also because what is apt has far greater force than what is loose. For just as we see that athletes — and gladiators not much otherwise — do nothing either in dodging warily or in striking vehemently in which this motion does not have a certain grace of the wrestling-school, so that whatever is done usefully in these matters for the fight is at the same time comely to behold, so the orator neither lands a heavy blow unless his thrust was apt, nor turns aside an onset closely enough unless even in giving way he understands what is fitting.

hanc igitur, sive composi- tionem sive perfectionem sive numerum vocari placet, et adhibere necesse est, si ornate velis dicere, non solum, quod ait Aristoteles et Theophrastus, ne infinite feratur ut flumen oratio, quae non aut spiritu pronuntiantis aut interductu librari, sed numero coacta debet insistere, verum etiam quod multo maiorem habent apta vim quam soluta. Vt enim athletas nec multo secus gladiatores videmus nihil nec vitando facere caute nec petendo vehe- menter, in quo non motus hic habeat palaestram quandam, ut quicquid in his rebus fiat utiliter ad pugnam idem ad aspectum etiam sit venustum, sic orator nec plagam gravem facit, nisi petitio fuit apta, nec satis tecte declinat impetum, nisi etiam in cedendo quid deceat intellegit.

And so, such as is the motion of those whom the Greeks call ungainly apalaistrous, such seems to me the speech of those who do not close their thoughts with rhythms; and so far is it from true — what those who, whether through want of teachers or slowness of talent or flight from labour, have not attained this, are wont to say, that speech is enervated by the arrangement of words — that on no other terms can there be in it any force or onset at all. But the thing demands great practice, lest we do anything like those who, having pursued this kind, did not master it; lest we transpose words openly, in order that the speech may fall or roll the better; which

itaque qualis eorum motus quos a)palai/strous Graeci vocant, talis horum mihi videtur oratio qui non claudunt numeris sententias, tantumque abest ut —quod ei qui hoc aut magistrorum inopia aut ingeni tarditate aut laboris fuga non sunt adse- cuti solent dicere—enervetur oratio compositione verborum, ut aliter in ea nec impetus ullus nec vis esse possit. sed magnam exercitationem res flagitat, ne quid eorum qui genus hoc secuti non tenuerunt simile faciamus, ne aut verba traiciamus aperte, quo melius aut cadat aut volvatur oratio; quod se

L. Caelius Antipater, in the preface to his Punic War, declares he will not do unless under necessity. O the simple man, who hides nothing from us — the wise man, who thinks one must be a slave to necessity! But he is altogether unschooled; for our part, in writing and in speaking, the excuse of necessity does not win our approval; for nothing is necessary, and if anything were, it still was not necessary to confess it. And he indeed, who begs this indulgence from Laelius, to whom he wrote and to whom he excuses himself, both uses that transposition of words and yet none the more aptly fills out and concludes his thoughts. Among others, and especially among the Asiatics who are slaves to rhythm, you will find certain empty words crammed in, like fillers for the rhythms. There are also those who, through that fault which flowed chiefly from Hegesias, by breaking and chopping up their rhythms fall into a kind of low style very like that of little verses.

L. Caelius Antipater in prooemio belli Punici nisi necessario facturum negat. O virum simplicem qui nos nihil celet, sapientem qui serviendum necessitati putet! Sed hic omnino rudis; nobis autem in scribendo atque in dicendo necessitatis excusatio non probatur; nihil est enim necesse et, si quid esset, id necesse tamen non erat confiteri. Et hic quidem, qui hanc a Laelio, ad quem scripsit, cui se purgat, veniam petit, et utitur ea traiectione verborum et nihilo tamen aptius explet concluditque sen- tentias. Apud alios autem et Asiaticos maxime numero servientes inculcata reperias inania quaedam verba quasi complementa numerorum. Sunt etiam qui illo vitio, quod ab Hegesia maxime fluxit, infringendis concidendisque numeris in quoddam genus abiectum incidant versiculorum simillimum.

There is a third kind, in which were those famous brothers, the leaders of the Asiatic rhetors, Hierocles and Menecles, by no means, in my judgment, to be despised. For although they are far from the form of truth and from the standard of the Attic writers, they yet make up for this fault by their facility or their fullness. But among them there was no variety, since almost everything was concluded in one way. Whoever has fled these faults, so that he neither transposes a word in such a way that it is understood to have been done on purpose, nor stuffs in words to fill, as it were, the chinks, nor, pursuing minute rhythms, chops up and unstrings his thoughts, nor without any change keeps always turning in the same kind of rhythms — he will have avoided nearly all the faults. For of the merits we have said much, to which those faults are plainly contrary.

tertium est, in quo fuerunt fratres illi Asiaticorum rhetorum principes Hierocles et Menecles minime mea sententia contemnendi. Etsi enim a forma veritatis et ab Atticorum regula absunt, tamen hoc vitium compensant vel facultate vel copia. Sed apud eos varietas non erat, quod omnia fere concludebantur uno modo. Quae vitia qui fugerit, ut neque verbum ita traiciat ut id de industria factum intellegatur, neque inferciens verba quasi rimas expleat, nec minutos numeros sequens concidat delumbetque sententias, nec sine ulla commutatione in eodem semper versetur genere numerorum, is omnia fere vitia vitaverit. Nam de laudibus multa diximus, quibus sunt illa perspicue vitia contraria.

How much it matters to speak aptly may be tested if you dissolve the well-built placing of a finished orator by transposing the words; for the whole thing is spoiled, as both this passage of mine in the speech for Cornelius and all that follows: Nor do riches move me, in which many a slave-dealer and trafficker has surpassed all the Africani and Laelii: change it a little, so that it runs many traffickers and slave-dealers have surpassed, and the whole thing will have perished; and what follows: Nor the raiment or the chased gold and silver in which many a eunuch out of Syria and Egypt has outdone our old Marcelli and Maximi; transpose the words thus, so that it runs have outdone the eunuchs out of Syria and Egypt; add the third: Nor indeed those ornaments of country villas, by which I see that L. Paullus and L. Mummius, who crammed the city and all Italy with such things, could very easily have been surpassed by some man of Delos or Syria; make it thus: could have been surpassed by some Syrian or man of Delos;

quantum autem sit apte dicere, experiri licet, si aut compositi oratoris bene structam conlocationem dissolvas permutatione verborum;— corrumpatur enim tota res, ut et haec nostra in Corneliana et deinceps omnia: Neque me divitiae movent, quibus omnis Africanos et Laelios multi venalicii mercatoresque superarunt: immuta paululum, ut sit multi superarunt mercatores venaliciique, perierit tota res; et quae sequuntur: Neque vestis aut caelatum aurum et argentum, quo nostros veteres Mar- cellos Maximosque multi eunuchi e Syria Aegyptoque vicerunt; verba permuta sic, ut sit vicerunt eunuchi e Syria Aegyptoque: adde tertium: Neque vero ornamenta ista villarum, quibus L. Paullum et L. Mummium, qui rebus his urbem Italiamque omnem referserunt, ab aliquo video perfacile Deliaco aut Syro potuisse superari; fac ita: potu- isse superari ab aliquo Syro aut Deliaco;

do you see how, the order of the words being changed a little, while the sense stands in the very same words, everything falls away to nothing, once the apt has been dissolved? Or, if you take from some ill-arranged writer a scattered thought and, by changing the order of the words a little, bring it into square, that will be made apt which before was loose and flowing away. Come, take that saying of Gracchus before the censors: It cannot be but that it belongs to the same man to disapprove the upright who approves the base; how much more aptly, had he said it thus: But that it belongs to the same man, who approves the base, to disapprove the upright!

videsne, ut ordine verborum paululum commutato, isdem tamen verbis stante sententia, ad nihilum omnia recidant, cum sint ex aptis dissoluta? Aut si alicuius inconditi arripias dissipatam aliquam sententiam eamque ordine verborum paululum commutato in quadrum redigas, efficiatur aptum illud, quod fuerit antea diffluens ac solutum. Age sume de Gracchi apud censores illud: Abesse non potest quin eiusdem hominis sit probos improbare qui improbos probet; quanto aptius, si ita dixisset: Quin eiusdem hominis sit qui improbos probet probos improbare!

No one has ever been unwilling to speak in this manner, nor has anyone been able to do so without speaking thus; but those who spoke otherwise were not able to attain this. So they became Attics on the sudden — as if Demosthenes had been a man of Tralles! whose famous thunderbolts would not flash so, were they not hurled, twisted home, by rhythms. But if loose prose delights anyone the more, let him by all means pursue it — only on this condition: that, as if one had dissolved the shield of Phidias, he will have destroyed the whole effect of the placing, not the loveliness of the individual works; just as in Thucydides I only miss the rounded shape of the speech — the ornaments are there to be seen.

hoc modo dicere nemo umquam noluit nemoque potuit quin dixerit; qui autem aliter dixerunt, hoc adsequi non potuerunt. Ita facti sunt repente Attici; quasi vero Trallianus fuerit Demosthenes! cuius non tam vibrarent fulmina illa, nisi numeris contorta ferrentur. sed si quem magis delectant soluta, sequatur ea sane, modo sic ut, si quis Phidiae clipeum dissolverit, conlocationis universam speciem sustulerit, non singulorum operum venustatem; ut in Thucydide orbem modo orationis desidero, ornamenta comparent.

But those men, when they dissolve a speech in which there is neither matter nor a single word that is not low, seem to me to be dissolving not a shield, but — as the proverb has it (though it is more humbly put, it is yet apt) — a besom, so to speak. And that they may seem plainly to have despised this kind which I praise, let them write something either in the manner of Isocrates or in that which Aeschines or Demosthenes uses; then I shall judge that they shrank from this kind not out of despair but recoiled from it by judgment; or I shall myself find someone willing to use it on the same terms, so as to speak or write in whichever language you please, in the very kind they prefer; for it is easier to dissolve what is apt than to connect what is scattered.

isti autem cum dissolvunt orationem, in qua nec res nec verbum ullum est nisi abiectum, non clipeum, sed, ut in proverbio est—etsi humilius dictum est tamen simile est —, scopas ut ita dicam mihi videntur dissolvere. Atque ut plane genus hoc, quod ego laudo, contempsisse videantur, aut scribant aliquid vel Isocrateo more vel quo Aeschines aut Demo- sthenes utitur, tum illos existimabo non desperatione reformi- davisse genus hoc, sed iudicio refugisse; aut reperiam ipse eadem condicione qui uti velit, ut aut dicat aut scribat utra voles lingua eo genere quo illi volunt; facilius est enim apta dissolvere quam dissipata conectere.

The matter, however, stands thus, that I may say most briefly what I think: to speak with arrangement and aptly, but without thoughts, is madness; to speak with weight of thought, but without order and measure in the words, is to be a babbler — yet a babbler of such a kind that those who practise it can be reckoned not foolish men, even, for the most part, prudent ones; and whoever is content with that, let him use it. But the eloquent man, who ought to move not only approvals but admiration, outcries, applause, if it be permitted, must so excel in all things that it would be a disgrace to him for anything to be either expected or heard with more pleasure.

res se autem sic habet, ut brevissime dicam quod sentio: composite et apte sine sententiis dicere insania est, sententiose autem sine verborum et ordine et modo infantia, sed eius modi tamen infantia, ut.ea qui utantur non stulti homines haberi possint, etiam plerumque prudentes; quo qui est contentus utatur. Eloquens vero, qui non approbationes solum sed admirationes, clamores, plausus, si liceat, movere debet, omnibus oportet ita rebus excellat, ut ei turpe sit quicquam aut exspectari aut audiri libentius.

You have my judgment concerning the orator, Brutus; either follow it, if you approve it, or hold to your own, if your own is something other. In this I shall neither contend with you, nor ever affirm that this judgment of mine, which I have so strongly maintained in this book, is truer than yours. For not only may one thing seem so to me and another to you, but to my very own self one thing may seem so at one time and another at another. And not only in this matter, which looks to the assent of the crowd and to the pleasure of the ear — the two lightest things in judging — but not even in the greatest matters have I yet found anything firmer to hold to, or by which to direct my judgment, than whatever seemed to me most like the truth, since the truth itself nevertheless lies hidden in concealment.

habes meum de oratore, Brute, indicium; quod aut sequere, si probaveris, aut tuo stabis, si aliud quoddam est tuum. In quo neque pugnabo tecum neque hoc meum, de quo tanto opere hoc libro adseveravi, umquam adfirmabo esse verius quam tuum. Potest enim non solum aliud mihi ac tibi, sed mihimet ipsi aliud alias videri. Nec in hac modo re quae ad vulgi adsensum spectet et ad aurium voluptatem, quae duo sunt ad iudicandum levissima, sed ne in maximis quidem rebus quicquam adhuc inveni firmius, quod tenerem aut quo iudicium meum derigerem, quam id quodcumque mihi quam simillimum veri videretur, cum ipsum illud verum tamen in occulto lateret.

But I should wish, if those things which have been argued win your approval too little, that you either think a greater work was undertaken than could be accomplished, or that, while I wished to comply with your asking, out of shame at refusing I took upon myself the impudence of writing.

tu autem velim, si tibi ea quae disputata sunt minus probabuntur, ut aut maius opus institutum putes quam effici potuerit, aut, dum tibi roganti voluerim obsequi, verecundia negandi scribendi me impudentiam suscepisse.

C icero by Claude

Orator: To Marcus Brutus

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