Antonius has just praised Crassus for his account of pure and clear diction. Crassus now turns to the more difficult topic of ornament or stylistic polish.
‘Well, Antony, the two topics I have just run through – or all but passed over! – namely, speaking Latin and speaking clearly – are easy enough. The remaining topics are big, complicated, varied and serious. Admiration of talent and praise of eloquence depend on them entirely. No one was ever admired as an orator just for speaking Latin correctly; if he didn’t, people would laugh at him and deny that he was a cultivated person, much less an orator. Nobody ever praised a speaker on the grounds that his listeners understood what he was saying; no, we despise him if he can’t even do that.
‘What kind of speaker thrills his listeners? At whom do they gaze in awe or shout approval? What speaker do people regard as a god among mortals? Why, the one who speaks in a distinctive yet straightforward manner, whose speeches are rich and brilliant in thought and language, who achieves in his orations a certain rhythm and measure: in short, the one who speaks ornately. And if he moderates all of this in accordance with the importance of the issue under consideration and principals in the case, then I say that he deserves praises for speaking in an appropriate and suitable manner.
‘Antonius stated that he had never encountered speakers of this sort, and that they alone would deserve to be called eloquent. So if you take my advice you will scorn and laugh at all those rhetoricians, as they are now called, who think they have embraced the entire range of oratory, when they can’t even understand the role they have assumed or the content of their own teaching. For the true orator will have investigated, heard, read, debated, discussed and generally immersed himself in every aspect of human life, since that is his business and his subject matter.
‘Eloquence, you see, is one of the greatest virtues.1 Although all virtues are equal in value, they can differ in beauty and distinction. This is the case with eloquence, which, having acquired a knowledge of its subject, explains in language the contents of the mind so that it can impel listeners in whatever direction it presses them. The greater its power, the greater the need for it to be wedded to the utmost integrity and good sense. If we grant facility in speaking to those who want nothing to do with virtue, then rather than creating orators we give weapons to madmen.
‘This system of thought, expression and speech the Greeks of old called wisdom. It accounts for men like Lycurgus, Pittacus and Solon,2 or Romans of a similar sort, such as Coruncanius, Fabricius, Cato and Scipio,3 who, although perhaps lacking education, had energy and purpose like the Greeks. Still others had a share of practical wisdom, but pursued peace and quiet, following a different plan of life, such as Pythagoras, Democritus and Anaxagoras.4 Instead of governing communities they focused entirely on acquiring knowledge. Due to the tranquillity of their lifestyle and the inherent appeal of knowledge, which is uniquely pleasing to human beings, they have attracted more followers than is in the best interests of public governance.
‘And so, as men of high intellectual ability turned to the pursuit of knowledge in itself, due to their abundance of free time, even very learned individuals, abounding in leisure and excessive creativity, decided to devote attention, inquiry and investigation to more topics than were really essential. For in the past the same sort of instruction taught proper conduct and excellent speech. The teachers weren’t split into two camps, rather the same ones were preceptors of living and of speaking, for example Phoenix in Homer, who says that he was assigned by Peleus to accompany his young son Achilles to war, in order to make him both a speaker of words and a doer of deeds.5
‘But just as men who are accustomed to strenuous daily labour turn to handball or dice or dominoes or even dream up some new form of amusement when the weather keeps them from work, so too, when potential civic leaders are kept from their work by current events or choose to take a holiday, they turn, some to poets, others to geometers, still others to musicians. Some, like the dialecticians, have even created a new type of study and entertainment and end up devoting their entire lives to the so-called “arts” that were created in order to shape the minds of boys in the direction of culture and virtue.
[…]
‘What’s the point of this long-winded presentation of mine? The two remaining aspects of brightening and elevating discourse, speaking ornately and speaking appropriately, have the task of making an oration as pleasant as possible, influential over the thoughts and feelings of the audience, and fortified with the greatest range of information. Yet the ordinary tools of wrangling and dispute, derived as they are from commonplace notions, are weak and inadequate for these ends. And even the lessons that the so-called professors of rhetoric transmit don’t amount to anything much more valuable. What we require instead is a full complement of resources that have been carefully selected, gathered from every possible source, acquired and adopted, as you, Caesar, will have to do in the coming year.6 And as I did, labouring during my aedileship due to my conviction that I couldn’t do the Roman people justice by employing cheap and low-quality materials.
‘It’s easy to explain the selection and ordering of words and creation of satisfying rhythms. In fact, it can be done through practice alone without systematic instruction. There’s an abundance of resources, which, because the Greeks have not kept them to themselves, our own youth have in essence unlearned while learning; and – heaven forfend! – in the last couple of years Latin teachers of rhetoric have appeared on the scene, although as censor I issued an edict banishing them, not because I didn’t want the skills of our young men to be sharpened, as I’m told some people have been saying, but, to the contrary, because I didn’t want their wits to be dulled or their impudence strengthened.7
‘For among the Greeks, whatever sort they were, I recognized that apart from exercises in talking they did possess a certain learning and knowledge worthy of cultivation; whereas these new teachers, as far as I could tell, couldn’t teach anything except audacity! And that’s certainly to be avoided even when joined with good practices. So, since this was the one lesson they transmitted and their school was a training ground in shamelessness, I decided that it was up to me as censor to keep them from doing more damage.
‘But my decree does not lead me to abandon hope of treating the matters under discussion in polished Latin, for both our language and the nature of this business allow the excellent traditional wisdom of the Greeks to be transferred to our own usage. It requires learned men, such as we have up to this point been lacking; but when they exist, they will surpass even the Greeks.
‘Speech becomes ornate in the first place through its style, a certain colour and flavour of its own. For to be serious, appealing, learned, generous, admirable, polished and endowed with just enough feeling isn’t a characteristic of individual parts but of the body as a whole. Moreover, when a speech is to be decorated with flowers of language and thought, they shouldn’t be spread evenly across the whole, but distributed and arranged as brilliant highlights. So it’s necessary to select a style of speech that keeps the interest of the listeners and brings them pleasure, only not too much. For I doubt that at this point you expect me to warn you not to speak in a weak, unpolished, vulgar or obsolete style. Your talent and your stage of life demand something more from me.
‘For it’s difficult to explain why the very things that most please and stimulate our senses upon first being encountered also alienate us the soonest, due to a certain disgust and sense of excess. How much more florid with beautiful and varied colours are new paintings as opposed to old! Yet even if they captivate us at first glance, they fail to please for very long, while older paintings, despite their rough and out-of-date appearance, still retain our attention. In music, trills and falsetto singing are softer and more delicate than sure and steady notes. Yet not just austere critics, but even the general multitude shout them down if they occur too frequently.
‘The same point applies to the remaining senses: perfumes fashioned to be supremely sweet and keen are less pleasing over time than moderate ones, and the scent of earth is appreciated more than that of saffron. In touch there is a limit to the appreciation of softness and smoothness. Even taste, the most pleasure-seeking of all the senses, the one most sensitive to refinement, quickly spurns and spits out anything that is sweet and only sweet. Who could enjoy a sweet drink or sweet food for very long? In either case, what pleases the senses in moderation quickly becomes cloying.
‘Thus in every instance, disgust is very close to great pleasure, with the result that there is no reason to be surprised that where language is concerned, whether in poetry or oratory, a style judged to be harmonious, crisp, polished and charming, if pursued without relief or remission or any variety at all, although decked out in brilliant colours, can’t provide continual pleasure. We are annoyed even more quickly with the curlicues and dyes of the orator or poet because with other senses it is nature rather than the mind that is repelled, whereas with writing and speaking smeared-on vices are recognized not just by the ears but by the judgement of the mind as well. Even though we often hear “bravo”, I’d rather not hear “how pretty! how charming!” very often – although I wouldn’t mind hearing “couldn’t be better” on a regular basis. Features that attract wonder and praise should retreat into the background from time to time, so that the highlights can be even more distinctive.
‘When Roscius8 delivers the following verse, he never uses the range of gesture of which he’s capable:
The wise man seeks honour as a prize for virtue, not as prey.9
Instead he tosses it off so that in delivering the next line he can prance, stare and gape with wonder:
But what do I see? One girt with steel holds the sacred seats.
Or to take another example:
What protection am I to seek?
How gently, how softly, with what restraint, for he proceeds to sing
O father, O country, O house of Priam!10
Which he couldn’t deliver with such force if he had exhausted himself on the preceding utterance.
‘Nor did actors recognize this principle before poets and composers of musical accompaniment, both of whom lower the tone, then elevate it, perform some parts vibrato, others staccato.
‘So we want our orator to be polished and charming – how could it be otherwise? – but his charm should be austere and solid, not sweet and superficial. The precepts of ornamentation can be applied even by the worst sort of speaker. As I said before, first prepare an abundance of material, as Antonius explained, then shape it according to the texture and style of the speech, brightening it with figures of language, varying it with figures of thought. The greatest achievement of eloquence is to amplify and adorn the subject matter, which comes about not just through adding and elevating, but also through refining and removing.
‘Amplification is desirable in all the lines of argument that Antonius has described as suited to making a speech believable, whether we explain something or win support or rile our listeners. But it matters most with respect to the last – stirring emotion – for this is the achievement most particular to the orator. It’s especially important when it comes to praise and blame, topics that Antonius took up recently, having set them to the side in our first conversation. For nothing is better suited to amplifying an oration than the ability to use each of these to the fullest extent.
‘Next in importance are the topics11 which, although they ought to be natural to legal arguments and bound to their very sinews, are nonetheless, due their universal treatment, called commonplaces by rhetoricians of old. One set of these supplies an amplified attack on vices and sins, such as cannot and is not ordinarily contradicted: for example, denunciation of the embezzler, the traitor, the parricide. Of course the charge must be proven, or the denunciation is pointless.
‘A different set of commonplaces aims at mitigation or pity; still others provide in a general way for copious analysis on either side of a disputed issue. This last approach is now considered the special concern of the two schools of philosophy I discussed earlier;12 but among our predecessors it was practised by anybody who sought to speak in court with a certain richness and formality. And indeed we should have the means of speaking on either side when the discussion concerns virtue, duty, fairness, dignity, advantage, honour, disgrace, reward, punishment and like matters. But now we have been driven from our vast estate into a small and contested space, and although we protect others, we can scarcely safeguard our own property. So, despite the indignity of it all, let us borrow what we need from the very people who have broken into our paternal home.
‘There’s a group of philosophers, now named Peripatetics or Academics after a small part of their city,13 who at one time, on account of their impressive knowledge of the most important matters, were identified as political philosophers by the Greeks and thus given a name derived from public affairs in general. According to these teachers, all public speaking falls into one of two categories. Either it concerns a limited controversy pertaining to specific events and agents, for example, should we Romans rescue our captives from the Carthaginians by returning theirs? Or it concerns a topic of universal applicability: what in general should be the rule concerning prisoners of war? They call the first type of discussion a hypothesis or controversy and restrict it to three categories – lawsuit, policy debate or laudations. The other, open-ended type they call a “consultatio” or thesis.
‘Rhetoricians, too, make this distinction in their instruction, seeming to borrow it from philosophy rather than reclaiming it as their own, whether by law or force. They do retain their hold on the first category, namely topics specified by occasion, place and person, but only barely, for I hear that “controversies” are popular among the followers of Philo,14 who has a great reputation in the Academy; the latter they identify in their teaching as belonging to the orator, but neglect its importance, nature, subdivisions and types. Frankly, they’d be better off dropping the subject rather than treating it so tentatively, since their reticence ends up seeming due to ignorance rather than to conscious choice.
‘At any rate, every issue is open to the same techniques of investigation and analysis, whether it’s of a general sort or one of the specific topics that are treated in political life and the courtroom. All have as their goal either knowledge or action.
‘For example, knowledge is the goal when we ask whether virtue is to be pursued for its own sake or because it is advantageous; and a plan of action is at stake when we ask whether a wise man ought to involve himself in politics.
‘Now there are three means of coming to know something, namely inference from facts, definition and what I call deduction. We seek the presence of something through inference, for example, whether wisdom exists within the human race; definition explains the particular force or function of a thing, for example if we ask what wisdom is. And deduction is applied when we consider the application of a principle, for example whether it is ever permissible for a good man to tell a lie.
‘With respect to inference, four types have been identified: whether something exists, for example, does human justice exist by nature or is it just a matter of convention; what is the origin of a given thing, for example, of laws or constitutions; or the reason for something, for example, if we ask why the most learned men disagree about the most important matters; or about the possibility of change, for example, whether a person’s virtue can diminish or even change into vice.
‘Disputes over definition occur either with respect to the general sense of a thing, for example, whether justice consists of the interests of the majority; or its properties, for example, is eloquence a unique possession of the orator or can others practise it; or its distribution into parts, for example, if we consider whether there are three types of preferables, goods of the body, goods of the mind and external goods; or its distinguishing characteristics, for example, how to recognize a miser, a rebel, or a braggart.
‘Under deduction or application are placed two main types of inquiry: a simple dispute, for example whether glory is to be pursued or not; or a comparative evaluation, such as whether praise or wealth is preferable. The simple type takes three forms: is something to be sought or avoided, for example, should one seek offices, is poverty to be shunned; questions concerning right and wrong, for example, is it right to take revenge for injuries by a close relation; and questions concerning what is honourable or shameful, for example, is it honourable to commit suicide for the sake of glory?
‘Comparison has two subsets: one, when we ask whether things are the same or different, for example, fear and reverence, a king and a tyrant, a flatterer and a friend; the other, when we consider which of two is better, for example, would a wise man rather have the praise of the best men or of the populace as a whole? These are pretty much all of the types of disputes over knowledge that have been listed by scholars.
‘As for discussions concerning a course of action, they involve either disagreements about obligation, that is determining what is right and what needs to be done, a field that encompasses the entire range of virtues and vices; or the summoning, settling or elimination of some emotion – a field that includes exhortation, reproach, consolation, commiseration, in short anything that impels, or, if the situation demands, mitigates any kind of feeling.
‘Now that I have laid out these types and modes of discussion, it doesn’t really matter if there’s some difference between my list and that of Antonius. We presented the same components, but arranged and distributed them differently. Let me now go ahead and return to my appointed task. For all arguments pertaining to whatever category of inquiry are to be derived from the topics explained by Antonius, with different topics better suited to different categories. There’s no point in talking about this, not because it would take a long time but because the matter is perfectly clear. The most ornate speeches, in short, are those that range most widely and turn from the private and unique case at hand to explain the general issue, so that the audience is able to make its decision about individual defendants, charges and disputes with full awareness of the general principle at stake.
‘This is the training that Antonius has been urging on you younger men. He wants you to leave behind narrow debates on trivial points and to get you to embrace the full force and richness of deliberation. What he has in mind can’t be accomplished with a few pamphlets, as the writers on rhetoric think, or during a morning walk or afternoon conversation on a Tusculan estate. It isn’t just a matter of developing or sharpening one’s ability to speak. The mind, too, must be filled with a rich abundance of ideas about topics of the greatest importance.
‘If we are truly orators, that is, if we deserve to take a leading role in the disputes and trials of citizens and in public deliberations, then learning and wisdom, endangered as they are, which men of leisure have seized upon while we have been preoccupied, in fact belong to us. Others merely ridicule the orator, as Socrates does in the Gorgias, or teach something or other about the art of the orator in a few short books they presume to call “rhetorical” – as if the very topics they discuss, such as justice, duty, the instruction and guidance of citizens, the conduct of life and nature itself, are not proprietary to rhetoricians.
‘Because such knowledge isn’t available elsewhere, let’s take it back from the people who stole it from us. And let’s make sure that we transfer it to the public realm where it belongs, and which it protects. And let’s not devote every moment to learning what they have to teach. Once we are familiar with the sources (which if we can’t understand quickly we will never understand), whenever there is need we will draw on them as the situation demands. For human insight is not so keen that we can automatically recognize these things without guidance. On the other hand, they’re not so obscure that an intelligent person can’t understand them, once he has observed closely.
‘Thus the orator should be free to explore such a vast terrain as he wishes, in confidence that wherever he takes a stand he has a right to be. All the resources for eloquence are his for the taking. Richness of understanding yields richness of language. If the content of a speech is impressive, the accompanying language will automatically be so too. Only see to it that the speaker or writer receives a liberal education in boyhood, burns with excitement for his studies and is assisted by nature; and that in practising on general or unlimited issues he selects the most sophisticated writers and speakers to study and imitate. He will hardly need teachers to explain how to arrange and enrich his language, so easily does nature itself, when provided with an abundance of matter, arrive at ornamented oratory – but only with practice.’
Catulus praises Crassus for his wide-ranging knowledge coupled with practical experience and criticizes the Greeks, who, though enthusiastic for literary and rhetorical studies, have made no new intellectual acquisitions or even preserved what has been handed down to them. Crassus then continues:
‘Other arts in addition to eloquence have been reduced in value as a result of division and separation into individual parts. Do you really suppose that in the time of Hippocrates of Cos,15 some doctors specialized in sickness, others in wounds, still others in eyes? Or that Euclid and Archimedes, Damon and Aristoxenus, or Aristophanes and Callimachus16 treated their respective branches of geometry, music and literature as so distinctive that none embraced a general outlook, but instead each took for himself a little piece to work over in detail?
‘I heard repeatedly from my father and my father-in-law that any Roman with intellectual ambition would seek to embrace all the knowledge then available at Rome. They told me about Sextus Aelius; and in our day we have seen Manius Manilius17 walk across the forum, quite impressively sharing his insight with all of his fellow citizens. People would approach men like these whether they were out walking or sitting at home in order to consult them not just about civil law but about betrothing their daughters, buying an estate, cultivating a field, in short any type of business or responsibility.
‘This was the sort of wisdom that characterized the famous Publius Crassus of yore, or Tiberius Coruncanius, or my son-in-law’s great-grandfather, the extraordinarily astute Scipio,18 all of whom also held the office of pontifex maximus.19 They were consulted about every type of affair, whether religious or secular. They shared their trustworthy advice in the senate, among the people, in the lawsuits of friends, both at home and while in military service.
‘What did Cato20 lack besides the hyper-refined contemporary learning we have imported from across the sea? Because he studied legal theory, did he therefore refrain from trying cases? Or, given his ability to argue a case, did he neglect the science of law? He worked hard and excelled in both domains. Was he reticent to participate in public affairs because he was successful in private business? No one was more effective in addressing the common people, no one better as a senator; and he was easily the best general. There was no knowledge available in our state at that time that he didn’t investigate, master and even commit to writing.
‘Today, in contrast, most men set out to acquire public office all but naked and unarmed, lacking the equipment provided by experience and knowledge of affairs. But if some individual happens to stand out from the crowd, if he shows some distinction, perhaps in courage or other military traits (which are all but obsolete today!), or knowledge of the law (although hardly of the whole law, since no one studies pontifical law), or eloquence (meaning a raucous torrent of words), he certainly won’t acknowledge the kinship and unity of all the liberal arts, indeed of the virtues themselves.
‘But to come back to the Greeks, whom we cannot avoid, particularly in this sort of discussion (for we look to our own people for virtue, to the Greeks for learning): it’s said that at one time there existed seven individuals who were considered, and indeed called, “sages”. All of them, except for Thales the Milesian,21 were leaders of their respective cities. Who from that era is said to have been more learned, whose eloquence better fortified with knowledge of literature, than Peisistratus?22 He is said to have been the first to put the previously disorganized books of Homer into the order we now follow. He didn’t act in the interests of his people, but he was so eloquent that he stood out as a leading figure in literature and learning.
‘What about Pericles?23 He was such an effective orator that although he spoke rather forcefully against the opinion of the Athenians concerning the security of their state, the very fact that he opposed popular leaders made him popular and agreeable to all. Even when the comic playwrights maligned him (which was then legal in Athens), they acknowledged that his speeches were so compelling that the arrows he released stayed fixed in the minds of his listeners. Yet it was no “declaimer” who taught him how to keep barking until time ran out, but, so we hear, Anaxagoras of Clazomenae,24 a man knowledgeable about the most demanding subjects. Thanks to the learning, good sense and eloquence he acquired, Pericles was the leading man at Athens for some forty years, in both domestic and military affairs.
‘What of Critias or Alcibiades?25 Although unreliable where their fellow citizens were concerned, they were surely learned and eloquent – and weren’t they trained in Socratic eristics? Who prepared Dio the Syracusan26 in every field of learning? Was it not Plato? One and the same teacher of eloquence and virtue encouraged, instructed and armed him for the liberation of his country. Did Plato instruct Dio in arts any different from those Isocrates taught the heroic Timotheus, son of the famous general Conon,27 and himself a leading general and most learned human being? What about Lysis the Pythagorean, teacher of Epaminondas of Thebes,28 who was quite possibly the greatest man in all of Greece? Or Xenophon teacher of Agesilaus?29 Or Philolaus, who taught Archytas of Tarentum?30 Or Pythagoras himself, who taught the entire Greek region of Italy, once called “great”?31
‘This is not mere opinion on my part. For I see that there was a single type of education that addressed every subject worthy of an educated man and of anyone hoping to succeed in public affairs. Those who received it, provided they had the talent to put it to use and actually engaged in public speaking (assuming there was no natural impediment), were recognized for their eloquence. Thus Aristotle himself, when he saw Isocrates basking in the glory of his students once he had changed the topic of his treatises from legal and civil affairs to mere elegance of style, immediately altered his own pedagogical approach, citing a verse attributed to Philoctetes, albeit with a minor change. For Philoctetes said that it was shameful for him to remain silent yet allow barbarians to speak; Aristotle that it was shameful to let Isocrates speak.32 This witticism didn’t escape the notice of the very wise king Philip, who summoned Aristotle as teacher for his son,33 who was to acquire from him guidance in conduct as well as speech.
‘Now, if anyone wants to give the title of orator to a philosopher who transmits to us a richness of knowledge and of language, it’s fine with me. So too, if you’d prefer to give the title of philosopher to an orator who unites wisdom and eloquence, I won’t object to that either. Just make sure we agree that neither an inarticulate man, with knowledge he can’t share by speaking, nor an ignorant one, who chatters on without knowing the facts, deserves our respect – although if we have to choose between them, better tongue-tied good sense than eloquent nonsense.
‘But if we’re after the best type of all, then the prize belongs to the learned orator. If it’s granted that he is also a philosopher, then the controversy comes to an end. But if a distinction is necessary, then the philosophers are inferior. The ideal orator possesses the knowledge of philosophers, but the domain of philosophers does not necessarily include eloquence. And although they’re disdainful of it, it can only complement their own art.’
Having said these things, Crassus was silent for a while, as were all the rest.
In the subsequent paragraphs, Cotta gently observes that Crassus has still not fully explained what he means by elegance and appropriateness of style. Sulpicius echoes the complaint, with greater vigour, after admitting that he has no use for Crassus’ views on the relationship between knowledge and eloquence. Seemingly unfazed, Crassus resumes his discussion of ornament, without recanting his deeper account of the inseparability of knowledge and eloquence, or matter and form.
Crassus answered:
‘What you’re asking about, Sulpicius, has been widely discussed and is even familiar to you. Honestly, who hasn’t spoken or written about this topic? But I’ll go ahead and humour you by briefly outlining what I know – although I recommend consulting the writers who discovered these refinements.
‘Every speech consists of words, which need to be considered first as individual entities, then in combination. There is a certain type of polish that comes from individual words, another from their arrangement. The words we employ are either appropriate and specific to the things they describe, almost as if they had come into being along with them; or they are transferred and placed, as it were, in a foreign context; or we invent them.
‘In selecting appropriate words, the orator should avoid colloquialisms or clichéd expressions and instead use impressive language that is rich and resonant. Even among appropriate words, discrimination, based on judgement by ear, is still necessary. This capacity will improve with practice in speaking. The common observation, such as “he has a good vocabulary”, or “his choice of words is terrible”, even coming from those who aren’t experts, is less a product of art than of a certain innate sensibility. Success in this area depends less on avoiding mistakes, important as that is, than on using a good, rich vocabulary. This is the base and foundation.
‘How the orator builds artistically on this foundation is the next point to consider. In selecting individual words, the orator has in effect three resources for embellishing his style: rare words, new words and words used metaphorically.
‘Rare or unfamiliar words are those that are archaic or have dropped from everyday usage. They are more readily available to poets than to public speakers, yet if used sparingly provide a certain poetic dignity even in an oration. I wouldn’t hesitate to say, with Caelius,34 “how unseasonably the Carthaginian came to Italy” or to use the words progeny, scion, prognosticate or appellation,35 or, as you like to say, Catulus, “I reckoned not” or “I opined”,36 or many other words which, when used correctly, give a speech a certain archaic grandeur.
‘New words are those invented by a speaker, either by combination, for example “then fear outspits all wisdom from my soul” or “surely you do not prefer the tongue-twisty malice of this man …” (for you see that “tongue-twisty” and “outspit” are formed by combining words); or, as often happens, from scratch, for example “that derelict oldster”, “birthifying gods” or “curven with their load of berries”.
‘Metaphorical language is widespread. Necessity, due to lack and constraint, created it, pleasure and delight have made it popular. Much as clothing was invented first to ward off cold, but then to adorn and dignify the body, so metaphorical language had its origin in need, but became commonplace from delight. Even peasants say that “a vine is bejeweled”, “the grass luxuriates”, “the crops rejoice”. When there is no specific word for something, another word, used metaphorically, can describe it through resemblance.
‘Such metaphors constitute a type of borrowing, in which you take from elsewhere what you yourself lack. Others are a little bolder, and rather than filling a need aim to impress. It isn’t really necessary for me to go through them systematically.
‘Just make sure that a metaphor either clarifies meaning, as in all of the following expressions, where clarity is achieved by transferring words on the basis of similarity:
The sea shudders,
shadows multiply, night and cloud blind with blackness,
flame flashes between the clouds, the sky trembles with thunder,
hail mixed with lavish rain rushes headlong,
on every side all the winds burst free, savage whirlwinds approach,
the vast expanse is boiling.37
or conveys additional information about a deed or thought, for example when a character’s secret intent is communicated through a double metaphor, as in the following:
he cloaks himself in words, builds a fortress with deceit.38
Sometimes a metaphor is used for the sake of brevity, for example:
if the weapon flees his hand.39
A single transferred term expresses the unforeseen nature of the weapon’s release more concisely than an accurate description could.
‘While we’re on this topic, I should say that I’ve often wondered why people derive so much pleasure from using metaphors as opposed to precise language. If there is no unique term to describe the “foot” on a boat40 or a contract that “binds” or “departure” from a wife, then of course we must take what we need from something else. But even when an abundance of words is available, people still enjoy metaphors, as long as they’re used within reason. I suspect this is the case either because it seems ingenious to pass over the obvious and seek something from a distance, or because the listener is led to think of something additional, without losing the train of thought, which brings a great deal of delight. Or because through a single word a complete analogy is expressed, or because every successful metaphor appeals to the senses, especially sight, which is the keenest sense.
‘Expressions like a “whiff of urbanity”, “softness of disposition”, “murmur of the sea”, “sweetness of style” depend on other senses. Metaphors from sight are much sharper; they place what cannot be seen or discerned right before the mind’s eye. For there is no term referring to a natural entity that can’t be used in other contexts. Whatever the source of the resemblance – which can be anything – the transfer of a single word makes a style sparkle.
‘The first thing to be avoided under this heading is dissimilarity: “the massive archways of heaven”.41 It’s said that Ennius brought a sphere on stage, yet a sphere is nothing like an archway!42 On the other hand, in the expression:
Live, Ulysses, while you can.
Snatch the last ray of light with your eyes!43
he didn’t say “seek” or “take”, which might imply the slowness of a person expecting to live for a long time, instead he said “snatch”, just the word to pair with the preceding phrase “while you can”.
‘Next, see to it that the resemblance isn’t far-fetched. Instead of the “Syrtis of his inheritance”, I would say “shoals”; not the “Charybdis of wealth” but the “whirlpool”,44 for the mind’s eye is led more easily to what we have seen than to what we have heard of.
‘Because the whole point of metaphor is to have a direct impact on the senses, we need to avoid drawing the listener’s attention to anything shameful. Thus, I’d rather not say that the death of Africanus “castrated” the state, or call Glaucia45 the “dung-heap of the senate-house”. The resemblance might be genuine, but in either case we are forced to think of something ugly. I reject a metaphor that is on a larger scale than what it describes, for example, “a hurricane of a party” or on a lesser scale, such as “a party of a hurricane”. I also reject the transfer of a term that is narrower than the normal one would be:
Please, what is it? Why do you decline46 my presence?
It would be better to say “forbid”, “prohibit” or “put a stop to”, since the other speaker had just said,
Come no closer!
My touch, even my shadow, may harm the righteous.
If you’re worried that the metaphor may be a little harsh, then soften it with an additional expression. For example, if it seemed too much to say that at the death of Marcus Cato, the senate was “orphaned”, then one could have included, by way of mitigation, the phrase, “so to speak”. In fact, a metaphor should look a bit bashful, as if invited to a new residence rather than breaking in by force. Still, no other manner of speaking produces livelier language or gives greater sheen to a speech.
‘Metaphor can consist not just of a single word but of an interconnected sequence, so that something other than what is said can be inferred:
I will not suffer
to crash against the same rock yet again, like the Achaean fleet of old.
or
How mistaken you are! For the strong rein of the law will curb your arrogance and impose on you the yoke of authority.47
As I have explained, words borrowed from one thing are transferred to another.
‘This is an important ornament of style, but be careful to avoid obscurity – for the same procedure can produce a riddle, although the latter involves not individual words, but a continuum of discourse.
‘Substitution or metonymy entails linguistic innovation, but of a different sort. For example,
Rugged Africa trembles with terrible tumult48
where “Africa” replaces “Africans”. There’s no neologism, as in “the sea with smashingrock waves”,49 or metaphorical transfer, as in “the sea softens”;50 rather the figure here consists of replacing one proper noun with another, as also in “cease, Rome, your enemies …”51 or “The Great Fields testify.” This is a reliable type of adornment and should be used frequently. Of a similar sort are expressions such as “Mars” commonly used of war, “Ceres” for grain, “Liber” for wine, “Neptune” for the sea, “curia” for the senate, “field” for assemblies, “toga” for peace, “arms” for war.
‘In like manner, the name of a virtue or vice might be used in place of the people who possess them, as in:
a house invaded by extravagance
where greed has made its residence
loyalty prevailed
justice won in the end.
In each instance the alteration or replacement of a word allows the meaning to be expressed more elegantly. A related device, less ornate, but not for that reason to be passed over, entails implying a whole from a part, for example saying walls or roofs instead of buildings. Or implying a part from a whole, for example calling a single squadron of horsemen “the Roman people”, or out of one we imply many, for example:
the Roman, though the affair has turned out well,
trembles in his heart.52
or understanding one from many, for example:
now we are Roman who once were Rudine53
or however we manage to communicate what is meant rather than what is said.
‘There is another common means of exploiting a term, although not so elegantly as metaphor. The device is rather free, but still at times not inappropriate, as when we say that an oration is “expansive” rather than “long”, or call a person’s mental capacity “diminished” instead of “small”. Surely you understand that the devices mentioned earlier involve not a word but a larger expression, since they arise from a series of metaphorical expressions. These latter techniques, such as exchanging words or understanding them differently, are metaphors of a particular kind.
‘It follows, then, that admirable use of individual words falls into one of three categories: use of an archaic term that nonetheless fits current usage; a term either invented from scratch or created through combination, with due attention to sound and usage; or metaphor, which enlivens a speech with highlights, like stars in the night sky.
‘The next topic is the sequence of words, in which two considerations are relevant: first, order or juxtaposition; second, a certain rhythm and balance. Juxtaposition requires placing words so as to avoid both a harsh clash of sounds and hiatus, or breath between words, and thus to produce a smooth transition. An author especially qualified to do so made a joke about this topic, speaking in the person of my father-in-law:54
How charmingly he orders his orations:
words squiggling like mosaic-tiles that form a curve.
Nor did he leave me alone, once he had mocked Albucius.55
I have a son-in-law Crassus, in case you are rhetorically inclined.
What of it? This Crassus you ridicule by name, what did he accomplish? Evidently something better than Albucius, he implies, and I agree. But really, he was only joking with me, as he often did.
‘At any rate, it is important to preserve the order of words that I’m discussing, since it produces a close-knit, coherent style with a smooth and even flow. You’ll achieve this effect if you order the ends and beginnings of contiguous words without hiatus or unpleasant junctures.’
‘The next topic, which I fear Catulus will consider rather silly, is the rhythm and shape of words. The Greeks of old thought that it was acceptable to use near-verses, that is, metres, even in prose. They wanted the ends of periods to be an occasion of taking a breath and not the result of exhaustion. They said that such breaks should be distinguished not by the punctuation of copyists but through the arrangement of words and thoughts. Isocrates first made it a practice to tighten up the loose constructions of his predecessors and give pleasure to the ears, as his student Naucrates56 writes, by means of rhythm.
‘For musicians, who used to be poets as well, developed two techniques for generating pleasure, namely, verse and melody, so that by the rhythm of words and the mode or melody of the voice they could delight, rather than bore, their listeners. They then transferred these techniques of vocal modulation and the arrangement of words from poetry to eloquence, to the extent that the seriousness of oratory could accommodate them.
‘The most important point here is that even though it’s a mistake to create a line of poetry within a speech through the arrangement of words, nevertheless we do want groupings of words to have a rhythmical cadence, a rounding off, a sense of completion. Nothing better differentiates the orator from the ignorant and inexperienced speaker than the latter’s tendency to pour out in disorderly fashion as much as he can and to take a break because he’s out of breath rather than for artistic purposes. The orator, on the other hand, constrains his thought with his words by means of a loose yet binding rhythm. For once he has bound his thought with form and measure, he loosens and relaxes it through a change of order, so that his words are neither tightly constrained as if by a fixed metrical law, nor loosened so as to wander aimlessly.
‘How then are we to undertake so great a task as to consider ourselves capable of attaining this power of rhythmical speech? In fact, it’s not as difficult as it is important, for nothing is as soft and malleable as speech. From speech are verses fashioned, from speech irregular rhythms, from speech comes prose composed of varying patterns of many types. There isn’t one lexicon for conversation, another for debate; nor one language for daily usage, another for stage and spectacle. We take up words from the common store and like softest wax mould and fashion them at our discretion. Sometimes we are vehement, sometimes subtle, sometimes in between: just so our style follows our thought, changing and adapting to please the ear or stir the soul.
‘And, much to our amazement, as with so much else, so with eloquence, nature has arranged that what is most useful is also most dignified and even most beautiful.57 We see how, for the safety and security of everything, the universe is ordered as a sphere with earth suspended in the middle of its own accord, how the sun travels around it, sinking before the midwinter constellation then gradually rising in the opposite direction; how the moon receives the light of the sun as it waxes and wanes; how the five planets accomplish the same circuit despite differences in speed and route. This arrangement is so successful that it cannot cohere if it undergoes even slight alteration; so beautiful, that nothing more attractive is even imaginable.
‘Consider for a moment the form and figure of human beings or any other living creatures. You won’t find anything added unless necessary; the totality of each form has been perfected, it would seem, by art not chance. What of trees? No trunks, branches, leaves exist except for the purpose of preserving their nature, yet every part is beautiful. Set nature aside and consider the arts. In a ship, the sides, hold, prow, deck, sails, sail-yards and masts are all indispensable. Yet each is so attractive that it seems to have been invented for pleasure as well as security. Columns support temples and porches, yet are as dignified as they are functional. Necessity, not beauty, fashioned the pediment of the Capitol and other temples; for when a scheme was devised for allowing water to flow from either side of the roof, the impressive appearance of a temple pediment followed from its function. Even if the Capitol were placed in the heavens, where there are no rainstorms, it would seem undignified without such a gable.
‘The same is true of every aspect of eloquence, namely that a certain sweetness and charm follow upon function and necessity. The limited nature of breath led to rhythmic cadences and pauses in the flow of language. These are so charming that even if a speaker never had to stop for breath, we wouldn’t want him to proceed without interruption. What is not just possible, but even easy for our lungs, turns out to be pleasing to our ears.
‘And so, while the longest group of words is that which can be reeled off in one breath, this is the standard of nature – art has another. From among the numerous possible rhythms, your Aristotle, Catulus,58 banishes from oratory frequent use of iamb and trochee,59 metres that naturally occur in our speeches and conversation. But the beats of these metres are too strong, and their feet too short. This is why he tells us to use heroic metre,60 which is permissible for two feet or a bit more, provided we don’t fall into actual verse or even the semblance thereof. These three feet can be used decorously at the beginning of a period. For example:
Tall twin girls were the maids of the house.
‘He especially approves of the paean, which takes two forms: a long syllable followed by three shorts, as in “then give it up, next get it going, push down on it”61 or three shorts followed by a long, as in “when they had crushed” or “the clatter of hooves”.62
‘That philosopher further recommends beginning with the first type of paean, concluding with the second. This second type, please note, is almost equivalent to a cretic, not in number of syllables but to the sense of hearing, which is a keener and more reliable judge. The cretic is composed of a long followed by a short followed by a long, as in “how to seek, where to find, when to run”.63 Fannius began a speech with this rhythm when he said “if my friends, that man’s threats …”64 Aristotle thinks the rhythm more suitable for clausulae, or the ends of periods, which are generally to be terminated with a long syllable.
‘This topic doesn’t demand such careful attention as it would in the case of poets. For them metre consists of enclosing words within verse-forms, so that nothing is shorter or longer, not even by the smallest breath, than required. Prose style is looser, not to the point of running free, but controlled without being tightly restricted. I agree with Theophrastus,65 who thinks that polished prose should have a relaxed rather than rigid rhythm.
‘As he goes on to suggest, from the metres just discussed, which form standard components of verse, a certain more extended metre emerged, namely the rather licentious and luxurious dithyramb,66 whose cola and feet, as Theophrastus says, are diffused throughout all serious prose. And if there is variable length in all sounds and expressions, such as can be perceived and also measured out, then it’s proper for this sort of metre, as long as it isn’t used in a continuous sequence, to appear in prose. For if non-stop talking is considered crude and unsophisticated, it must be because nature itself has adapted ear and voice to one another. But that wouldn’t be the case if rhythm weren’t intrinsic to spoken language.
‘In a continuous outpouring there is no rhythm. A beat, that is to say, a marking of equal or varied intervals, constitutes a rhythm. We take note of the rhythm of raindrops, which are separated by intervals, but we cannot do so with a rushing stream. And if the flow of words in prose is more fitting and more attractive when divided into joints and limbs (commata and cola) than when uninterrupted, then the so-called limbs will have to be arranged and modified. If they are too short at the end of a unit, they break up the circuit of words – what the Greeks call turnings or periods of speech. This is why later units should be equal to or longer than earlier ones, and the last equal to or, even better, longer than the first.
‘These are the sorts of claims made by the philosophers you so admire, Catulus, a fact I cite so that by praising their authority I can avoid the charge of ineptitude.’
‘What ineptitude are you talking about?’ says Catulus. ‘What could be more elegant, more subtle, than the explanation you have just delivered?’
‘Be that as it may,’ says Crassus, ‘I worry that such guidelines may strike our listeners as too difficult to pursue, or that we might seem eager to make them appear especially challenging, since they aren’t transmitted in the standard handbooks.’ To which Catulus replied, ‘You are mistaken, Crassus, if you think that I or anyone else here today expects from you everyday or familiar advice. You are telling us just what we want to be told, and not just to be told but to be told as you are telling it. I am absolutely certain that I speak not just for myself but for everyone present.’
‘For my part,’ says Antonius,67 ‘I have now found what I claimed I hadn’t found in the book I wrote – an eloquent man! I held back from interrupting you, even with praise, because I don’t want to lessen the time available for your remarks with even a single word of my own.’
So Crassus continued: ‘We must conform our speech to this law of rhythm both in oral practice and in writing, which provides refinement and polish in this sphere as in others. Still, it isn’t as big a task as it seems. We needn’t apply the rigid standards of the specialists in rhythm and music. Our one goal is to make sure that our discourse doesn’t just wander or stop short or extend too far. Its component parts should be articulated, its periodic structure resolved. Nor is it necessary always to employ continuous periods. Better to break the discourse into smaller units that are bound together rhythmically.
‘And don’t let the paean or the dactyl cause you worry either. They will occur naturally in a speech, they will present themselves without being summoned. Make it your practice in writing and in speaking to have your thoughts finish together with your words and your words be joined in long and limber rhythms, especially the dactyl, the first paean and the cretic, but let them come to an end in a varied yet clearly defined manner. For similarity is especially noted in concluding. And if the first and last feet follow this system, the ones in between can pass without notice, provided that the circuit of words is neither shorter than the ears expect nor longer than strength and breath can handle.
‘In my opinion, the endings of sentences deserve more careful attention than the openings, since it is on the basis of the endings that completion and resolution are assessed. With verses, the beginning, middle and end are all noticed equally, and the line is weakened wherever the flaw. In oratory, few judge the beginnings, almost all the endings. Because they will be noticed, they must be varied, so as not to offend our judgement – or our ears. Two or three feet ought to be reserved for the ending and made noticeable (provided the preceding are not too short or clipped). These will need to be trochees or dactyls, or trochees or dactyls alternating with the second paean, which Aristotle is so fond of, or its equivalent, the cretic. Having a mix of these will keep the listeners from getting bored with repetition and keep us from seeming to have worked too hard.
‘Antipater of Sidon,68 who is such a favourite of yours, Catulus, used to utter hexameters or whole verses in other metres right on the spot. Through practice, a quick-witted man with a good memory, once he committed himself to a verse, was able to generate words automatically. How much more easily will we accomplish this in our orations, provided we train and practise.
‘And no one should doubt that even an inexpert audience can notice such things, for here as elsewhere the power of nature is truly remarkable. All people, by means of a certain implicit sensibility, without any art or discipline, can differentiate what is right and wrong in artistic compositions. They manage to do so in the case of paintings and sculptures and other such works, where nature has given them fewer tools. All the more so do they display an ability to judge words, rhythms and utterances, which are rooted in a shared sensibility and naturally familiar to everyone.
‘Thus everyone is affected by words that have been skilfully arranged, as well as by rhythm and delivery. For what portion of the population has a disciplined understanding of rhythm and metre? Yet the entire theatre cries out against even a small violation, such as a contraction that makes a verse too short or an extension that makes it too long. It’s the same with pronunciation: whole troupes and choruses, or sometimes individual members, are booed offstage by the crowd due to a single inconsistency.
‘It’s remarkable how little difference there is between an expert and an amateur when it comes to judging, although the difference is great when it comes to creating. Because art took its start from nature, it would seem to accomplish little if it couldn’t move and delight in a natural manner. Nothing is so naturally adapted to our feelings as rhythm and language. We are riled up, inflamed and assuaged by them; we grow relaxed and are often led to joy or grief. Their extraordinary power, well suited to song and chant, was not neglected, it seems to me, by Numa,69 most learned king, or by our ancestors, as the use of lyres and flutes at sacred feasts and the verses of the Salian priests70 make clear; they were held in especially high regard in archaic Greece. If only you had asked for a discourse on topics like these rather than an elementary subject like metaphor!
‘At any rate, just as the common crowd notices a mistake in versification, it also recognizes when we somehow slip up in speaking. And although the audience may pardon us while not forgiving a poet, still the general silence does not mean they think what we have said is fit and perfect. Those orators of old, not to mention quite a few today, being unable to complete a rounded circuit of words (for we have only recently begun to be able or, better, to dare this task) would speak in units of three or two or even single words, although even in those early days they tried to balance their phrases and use regular pauses, as the sense of hearing requires.’
‘I have now explained, to the best of my ability, the chief components of ornate speech. For I have spoken about individual words, their combinations, their rhythm and pattern. But if you insist on also hearing about the style and tone of a speech, there is the full yet rounded; the thin, yet taut and strong; and a third that is midway between the other two. Each of these three types should supply a certain colour, not like smeared-on dye, but like blood diffused throughout. Finally, this orator of ours must shape his words and thoughts so that like a fencer or a boxer he has a system not just for avoiding and delivering blows, but also for moving gracefully. Like those who handle weapons, he should use his words in a fitting and suitable manner and deploy his thoughts so as to make his speech impressive. Words and thoughts can be arranged in an almost infinite number of ways, as I know you recognize. But there’s a difference between figured language and thought: if you change the words, the figure of language disappears, but a figure of thought remains whatever words you use.71
‘Although you all compose in this way, I think it still worth recommending that an orator needs nothing, no matter how outstanding or remarkable, when it comes to individual words, but frequent metaphors, occasional neologisms, rare archaisms. In continuous discourse, as I have said, we must keep in mind the need for smooth arrangement and careful use of rhythm, while making frequent use of brilliant figures of thought and language.
‘For example, delay over a single point can have a great effect, as can a vivid explanation of events, as if they were happening right before our eyes. These techniques are of value both in presenting the facts and in illuminating or amplifying what is presented. The aim is to make what is augmented seem to the audience as grand as the power of oratory permits. In contrast, there is hurried summary, the hint that more is to be understood than you have spoken, clipped brevity of speech, disparagement, even joking, as long as it follows the precepts of Caesar!72
‘Other devices include digression from the main point, a source of entertainment that is followed by a smooth return to the subject; introduction to what you are going to say, distinguishing it from what has already been said, and a return to the proposition for restatement and fitting summation of the argument. There’s also exaggeration for the sake of emphasizing or belittling some point; interrogation, including rhetorical question that in effect states one’s own opinion; irony or dissimulation, meaning saying one thing and meaning another, which really works its way into people’s thoughts – it’s also quite enjoyable when expressed in a conversational rather than polemical style; then there’s hesitation, distribution and correction – before or after you have made a statement, or by denying its applicability to yourself.
‘A device known as laying the groundwork prepares the way for your case; transfer puts the burden on the other side; consultation is a kind of deliberation with the audience; imitation of manners and behaviour, either in character or not, adds a great deal to a speech and works to calm people down or rile them up. Impersonation of another is a terrific way to call attention to a topic; there’s also description, deliberately misleading, raising a laugh and anticipating; then two especially effective devices, simile and example; division into parts, interruption, provocation, reticence, issuing of compliments; unbridled speech for the sake of emphasis; feigned anger, invective, promise of proof, belittlement, beseeching, brief divergence from the subject (on a lesser scale than actual digression), excuse-making, apology, lashing out, praying and cursing. Such are the figures of thought by which we brighten a speech.
‘As for figures of speech, we can brandish them like weapons, either to threaten and attack or to create an aesthetic effect. There can be charm as well as force in repeating a word, changing it slightly, using it at the beginning or end of successive units, or at the beginning and end of the same unit; so too with adjunction, increment and different uses of the same word, revocation of a word, words with the same endings, nominal or verbal, or balanced or parallel constructions.
‘There is also stepwise progression, inversion, hyperbaton, antithesis, declination, self-correction, exclamation, contraction, use of the same noun in several cases, matching, explanation whether of a statement as a whole or individual details, deferment, a different kind of hesitation, improvisation, enumeration, a second kind of correction, local distribution, running on and breaking off, simile, answering one’s own questions, metonymy, distribution of terms, order (balanced or unbalanced) and circumscription. For these are the relevant figures – and there may be more like them – that embellish a speech with thought and ideas or with verbal patterns.’
‘Well,’ said Cotta,73 ‘I see that you have just let them flow, pouring them out without definitions or examples, on the assumption that they are familiar to us.’
‘To be honest,’ replied Crassus, ‘I didn’t suppose anything I said earlier was news to any of you either, but merely answered your request. As for what I have just discussed, the position of the sun told me I needed to be brief. It is setting quickly and has forced me to speak almost as quickly. Still, demonstrations and instructions on this topic are readily available. Their use, however, is a serious matter, the most difficult in the whole field of rhetoric.
‘So then, since all topics pertaining to adornment of speech have been noted, if not fully explored, let us consider the matter of appropriateness, or decorum, in language. This much is surely clear: no single manner of speaking is suited to every case or listener or speaker or occasion. Capital cases demand one style of language, private or trivial affairs another. Deliberations, eulogies, trials, conversations, consolation, invective, intellectual debate and narrative all expect different styles. It makes a difference who is listening – the senate, the people as a whole or jurors. Are they many or few in number, or just one person; and what sort of people are they? What of the orators? How old? What status and authority do they have? And as for the occasion, is it a time of peace or war, is the audience in a hurry or at leisure?
‘So at this point it doesn’t really seem possible to offer specific advice, except to say that we should choose a full or simple or in-between style, in accordance with the matter at hand. It will be permissible to use the same techniques of ornamentation, sometimes more energetically, other times in a more restrained manner. In every instance, the ability to do what is fitting is a matter of art and of nature; knowing what is fitting and when is a matter of practical intelligence.
‘But all of these devices are enacted through delivery. Delivery alone dominates when it comes to public speaking. Without it even the best orator is of no account; with it, a mediocre orator often surpasses the best. When asked what was the most important aspect of speaking, Demosthenes74 said delivery came in first – and second, and third. And, in my opinion, Aeschines75 put it even better. He had left Athens and moved to Rhodes, due to a disgraceful failure in a trial. As the story goes, the Rhodians asked him to read out the famous speech against Ctesiphon76 that he had delivered in opposition to Demosthenes. Having done so, he was asked the next day to read the opposing speech that Demosthenes had delivered in defence of Ctesiphon. When he had finished reading this one too in a beautiful and resounding voice and all were expressing admiration, he remarked: “How much more amazed you would be, if you had heard the man himself!” In this way he made clear the importance of delivery, since he believed that the same speech became something different with a change of speaker.
‘What was it about Gracchus’ oratory, Catulus, that caused so much discussion? You remember better than I do, since I was just a boy.
Where in my misery am I to take myself? Where am I to turn? To the Capitol? But it is soaking with the blood of my brother. Home? To see my mother wretched, grieving and despondent?77
We’ve been told that he used his eyes and voice and gesture so effectively that even his enemies could not hold back their tears. I discuss these matters at greater length because orators, who are performers of reality, have abandoned this whole area of study, while actors, who merely imitate reality, have seized it for themselves. Without doubt in every instance reality is superior to imitation, and if reality in itself were sufficient in performance, we would have no need of art. But emotion, which has to be communicated through performance, is often so confused as to be hard to identify. As a result, it’s up to the orator to eliminate uncertainty and make the emotion in question distinct and obvious.
‘We can do this, inasmuch as every emotion by its very nature has a corresponding facial expression, sound and gesture. A person’s body, face and voice resonate when struck by emotion, like strings on a lyre. Voices are tightened up, like strings responding to touch, high, low, quick, slow, loud, quiet, with a middle type in the midst of each pair; and there are further modifications, such as smooth or rough, quiet or loud, continuous or staccato, trilling or clipped, diminishing or rising in crescendo. Everything of this sort can be modulated through art. They are the colours available to a performer, as to a painter, for purposes of variation.
‘Anger will use one tone of voice – shrill, hasty, agitated, for example:
He urges me, my brother! to consign my sons, O woe!
to my jaws.78
or the lines you quoted some time ago, Antonius:
You dared to separate from yourself79
and
Does no one take note? Tie him up!80
and almost the entirety of the Atreus.81
Compassion and sorrow use another tone, wavering, full, halting, mournful:
Where now am I to turn? What journey commence?
To my paternal homestead? Or to the daughters of Pelias?82
or
O father, O country, O house of Priam!
and the lines that follow:
I saw everything in flames
and Priam violently deprived of life.83
The performance of fear is submissive, hesitant, downcast:
I am besieged in every manner, by sickness, exile and destitution.
Fear has forced all insight from my soul
My mother menaces my life with terrible torture and with death.
There’s no one so strong and steadfast that his blood
Would not recoil and flesh turn pale in terror at these threats.84
Energy is indicated by a voice that is taut, vigorous and intimidating:
Again Thyestes dares to menace Atreus,
again he attacks and stirs me from my sleep.
More trouble, more evil must I conjure
to grind and crush his own cruel heart.85
The voice of one in a state of pleasure is loose, gentle, soft, lively, at ease:
But when she carried a wedding wreath
she carried it for you. Although at first she pretended to give it to another,
she was happy to present it to you, smartly, delicately.86
Distress requires a low or heavy voice, without appeal to pity, steady in its pressure and volume:
At the time when Paris joined Helen in unwed wedlock
I was on the verge of giving birth, the tally of months complete.
At the same time Hecuba bore her last child, Polydorus.87
All of these emotions should be accompanied by gesture – not the stagey kind that seeks to represent each word, but gesture that expresses the general meaning and sense, not explicitly, but through suggestion, a strong and virile movement from the core outwards as found in military exercises or the wrestling-school rather than on stage and among actors. Hand movements should not be overly precise: let the fingers follow the meaning rather than expressing it. The arm should be brandished as if a weapon of speech, the foot stamped at the beginning or end of an emphatic passage.
‘But everything depends on the face, which is dominated by the eyes. The older generation showed good judgement when they withheld praise even from Roscius if he wore a mask. Performance performs the soul, the face is its image, the eyes its index. This is the one part of the body that, however numerous the movements of the soul, can express them all. And no one achieves the same effect with eyes closed. Theophrastus quotes Tauriscus88 as saying that an actor who gazed fixedly at something while delivering his lines might as well turn his back on the audience.
‘This is why it’s important to keep the eyes under control. Avoid changing the appearance of the face too much so as not to look foolish or depraved. It’s through the eyes that we correctly correlate speech with emotion, by straining or relaxing our gaze, staring or moving them about. Because delivery is the language of the body, it must accord closely with the mind. And nature gave us eyes for the purpose of communicating emotions, as it gave a mane, a tail and ears to horses and lions. Thus when it comes to performance the face is second in importance only to the voice, and the eyes are the leading feature of the face.
‘Still, nature grants a certain power to all aspects of delivery, which is why the uneducated, the crowd, even barbarians are greatly affected by it. Words can only affect a person who shares in the same language, and clever sayings can pass right by listeners who are less than clever. But delivery, by displaying emotion, affects the emotions of all. For all people are moved by the same feelings and use the same means to recognize them in others and express them in themselves.
‘But performance, especially good performance, without a doubt depends primarily on voice. It’s what we should hope for most of all, and whatever kind of voice we have, we should look after it. How to care for the voice is not a topic of instruction here, although I emphasize that it must be cared for. Still, it seems relevant to our discussion to point out, as I said earlier, that often what is most useful is also, somehow or other, especially attractive. For maintaining the voice nothing is more useful than frequent modulation. Nothing is more dangerous than uninterrupted strain.
‘What is more suited to our ears and to making delivery attractive than change or variation? The same Gracchus (as you may learn, Catulus,89 from your client Licinius, an educated man, who used to be his slave secretary), during his speeches to the assembly, would keep hidden behind him an expert with a little ivory flute who would quickly blow a note to rouse him when he relaxed his voice or call him back when he strained it.’ ‘Indeed I have heard just that,’ said Catulus, ‘and often marvelled at the man’s careful practice as well as his knowledge and learning.’
‘I admired him as well,’ said Crassus, ‘and it saddens me that men like him ended up doing damage to the republic; although today such a web is being woven and such a pattern of public life displayed to posterity, that we are eager to have citizens [even] of the sort our fathers did not tolerate.’ ‘Please drop this subject,’ said Julius, ‘and return to the little flute of Gracchus, for I don’t yet understand the principle of its use.’
‘In every voice,’ said Crassus, ‘there is a certain mean, specific to the voice. It produces a pleasing effect to rise gradually from this mean (for it is boorish to start screeching at the outset); and it’s a healthy practice for strengthening the voice. There is also an extreme of straining, which is still just below the most acute sound, and the pipe does not allow you to go beyond, and will call you back from this high point. Again, there is a deepest tone, reached through stepwise lowering. This range and run through the whole course of the voice will protect it and add charm to delivery. But you can leave the piper at home as long as you take the awareness inculcated by the practice with you when you head to the forum.
‘I have now explained what I could, not as I would have liked, but as the limited time demanded. For it’s a clever thing to blame the circumstances, when you aren’t able to add more, even if you want to.’
‘But you have gathered together everything,’ said Catulus, ‘as far as I can tell, and done so with such brilliance that you seem not to have borrowed from the Greeks but to be able to serve as their instructor. I am happy to have been a participant in this conversation with you, I only wish that my son-in-law, your associate Hortensius,90 had been here. I am confident that he will excel in everything you have included in your discussion.’
‘Will excel?’ responded Crassus. ‘I think he already excels, as I thought when he defended the cause of Africa in the senate during my consulship91 and even more so when he recently spoke on behalf of the king of Bithynia.92 And so you are correct, Catulus, for this young man seems to lack nothing in natural ability or in education.
‘All the more reason for you, Cotta, and you, Sulpicius,93 to stay up late and study hard. For no commonplace orator arises to succeed your generation, but one with keen intelligence, burning ambition, extraordinary training and a unique memory. Although I am a fan of his, I want him to become pre-eminent only within his own generation, for it is scarcely honourable for a man who is so much younger to surpass the two of you!
‘But let us rise,’ he said, ‘and have some refreshment, and at least for a while relax our attention and concern from the stress of this discussion.’