But if their own ears are so uncivilised and barbarous, will not the authority of even the most learned men influence them? I say nothing of Isocrates, and his pupils Ephorus and Naucrates; although those men who are themselves consummate orators ought also to be the highest authorities on making and ornamenting a speech. But who of all men was ever more learned, or more acute, or a more accurate judge of the discovery of, or decision respecting all things than Aristotle? Moreover, who ever took more pains to oppose Isocrates? Aristotle then, while he warns us against letting verses occur in our speeches, enjoins us to attend to rhythm. His pupil Theodectes, one of the most polished of writers, (as Aristotle often intimates,) and a great artist, both felt and enjoined the same thing. And Theophrastus is more distinct still in laying down the same rule.
Who then can endure those men who do not agree with such authorities as these? Unless indeed they are ignorant that they ever gave any such rules. And if that is the case, (and I really believe it is,) what then? Have they no senses of their own to be guided by? Have they no natural idea of what is useless? None of what is harsh, cramped, lame, or superfluous? When verses are being repeated, the whole theatre raises an outcry if there is one syllable too few or too many. Not that the mob knows anything about feet or metre; nor do they understand what it is that offends them, or know why or in what it offends them. But nevertheless nature herself has placed in our ears a power of judging of all superfluous length and all undue shortness in sounds, as much as of grave and acute syllables.
LII. Do you wish then, O Brutus, that we should give a more accurate explanation of this whole topic, than those men themselves have done who have delivered these and other rules to us? Or may we be content with those which have been delivered by them? But why do I ask whether you wish this? when I know from your letters, written in a most scholar-like spirit, that you wish for it above all things. First of all, then, the origin of a well-adapted and rhythmical oration shall be explained, then the cause of it, then its nature, and last of all its use.
For they who admire Isocrates above all things, place this among his very highest panegyrics, that he was the first person who added rhythm to prose writing. For they say that, as he perceived that orators were listened to with seriousness, but poets with pleasure, he then aimed at rhythm so as to use it in his orations both for the sake of giving pleasure, and also that variety of sound might prevent weariness. And this is said by them in some degree correctly, but not wholly so. For we must confess that no one was ever more thoroughly skilled in that sort of learning than Isocrates; but still the original inventor of rhythm was Thrasymachus; all whose writings are even too carefully rhythmical. For, as I said a little while ago, the principle of things like one another being placed side by side, sentence after sentence being ended in a similar manner, and contraries being compared with contraries, so that, even if one took no pains about it, most sentences would end musically, was first discovered by Gorgias; but he used it without any moderation. And that is, as I have said before one of the three divisions of arrangement. Both of these men were predecessors of Isocrates; so that it was in his moderation, not in his invention, that he is superior to them. For he is more moderate in the way in which he inverts or alters the sense of words; and also in his attention to rhythm. But Gorgias is a more insatiable follower of this system, and (even according to his own admission) abuses these elegances in an unprecedented way; but Isocrates (who while a young man had heard Gorgias when he was an old man in Thessaly) put all these things under more restraint. Moreover he himself, as he advanced in age, (and he lived nearly a hundred years,) relaxed in his ideas of the exceeding necessity for rhythm; as he declares in that book which he wrote to Philip of Macedon, when he was a very old man, in which he says that he is less attentive to rhythm than he had formerly been. And so he had corrected not only his predecessors, but himself also.
LIII. Since, then, we have those men whom we have mentioned as the authors and originators of a well-adapted oration, and since its origin has been thus explained, we must now seek for the cause. And that is so evident, that I marvel that the ancients were not influenced by it; especially when, as is often the case, they often by chance made use of well-rounded and well-arranged periods. And when they had produced their impression on the minds and ears of men, so as to make it very plain that what chance had effected had been received with pleasure, certainly they ought to have taken note of what had been done, and have imitated themselves; for the ears, or the mind by the report of the ears, contains in itself a natural measurement of all sounds. That is how it distinguishes between long and short sounds; and always watches for well-wrought and moderate periods. It feels that some are mutilated and curtailed, as it were, and with those it is offended, as if it were defrauded of its due; others it feels to be too long, and running out to an immoderate length, and those the ears reject even more than the first; for as in most cases, so especially in this kind of thing, it happens that what is in excess is much more offensive than that which errs on the side of deficiency.
As, therefore, poetry and verse was invented by the nicety of the ear, and the careful observation of clever men; so it has been noticed in oratory, much later, indeed, but still in deference to the promptings of the same nature, that there are some certain rules and bounds, within which words and paragraphs ought to be confined.
Since, therefore, we have thus shown the cause, we will now, if you please, explain the nature of it; for that was the third division; and that involves a discussion which has no reference to the original plan of this treatise, but which belongs rather to the arcana of the art. For the question may be asked, what is the rhythm of a speech; and where it is placed; and in what it originates; and whether it is one thing, or two, or more; and on what principles it is arranged; and for what purpose; and how and in what part it is situated, and in what way it is employed so as to give any pleasure.
But as in most cases, so also in this one, there are two ways of looking at the question; one of which is longer, the other shorter, and at the same time plainer.
LIV. But in the longer way the first question is, whether there actually is any such thing as a rhythmical oration at all; (for some persons do not think that there is, because there is not in oratory any positive rule, as there is in verses, and because the people who assert that there is that rhythm cannot give any reason why there is.) In the next place, if there is rhythm in an oration, what sort of rhythm it is; and whether it is of more than one kind; and whether it consists of poetical rhythm, or of some other kind; and if it consists of poetical rhythm, of which poetical rhythm, (for some think that there is but one sort of poetical rhythm, while others think there are many kinds.) In the next place, the question arises, whatever sorts of rhythm there may be, whether one or more, whether they are common to every kind of oratory, (since there is one kind used in narrating, another kind in persuading, and another in teaching,) or whether the different kinds are all adapted equally to every sort of oratory. If the different kinds are common to each kind of oratory, what are they? If there is a difference, then what is the difference, and why is the rhythm less visible in a speech than in a verse? Besides, there is a question whether what is rhythmical in a speech is made so solely by rhythm, or also by some especial arrangement of words, or by the kind of words employed; or whether each division has its component parts, so that rhythm consists of intervals, arrangement of words, while the character of the words themselves is visible being a sort of shape and light of the speech; and whether arrangement is not the principal thing of all, and whether it is not by that that rhythm is produced, and those things which I have called the forms and light of a speech, and which, as I have said, the Greeks call [Greek: schaemata]. But that which is pleasant when uttered by the voice, and that which is made perfect by careful regulation, and brilliant by the nature of the words employed, are not one and the same thing, although they are both akin to rhythm, because each is perfect of itself; but an arrangement differs from both, and is wholly dependent on the dignity or sweetness of the language employed.
These are the main questions which arise out of an inquiry into the nature of oratory.
LV. It is, then, not hard to know that there is a certain rhythm in a speech: for the senses decide that. And it is absurd not to admit an evident fact, merely because we cannot find out why it happens. And verse itself was not invented by à priori reasoning, but by nature and the senses, and these last were taught by carefully digested reason what was the fact; and accordingly it was the careful noticing and observation of nature which produced art.
But in verses the matter is more evident. For although there are some kinds of verse which, if they be not chanted, appear but little to differ from prose; and this is especially the case in all the very best of those poets who are called [Greek: lyriloi] by the Greeks; for when you have stripped them of the singing, the language remains almost naked. And some of our countrymen are like them. Like that line in Thyestes:—
"Quemnam te esse dicam, qui tarda in senectute" …
And so on; for except when the flute-player is at hand to accompany them, those verses are very like prose. But the iambics of the common poets are, on account of their likeness to ordinary conversation, very often in such a very low style, that sometimes it is hardly possible to discover any metre, or even rhythm in them. And it may easily be understood that there is more difficulty in discovering the rhythm in an oration than in verses.
Altogether there are two things which season oratory—the sweetness of the language, and the sweetness of the rhythm. In the language is the material, and in the rhythm the polish. But, as in other things, the older inventions are the children of necessity rather than of pleasure; so also has it happened in this, that oratory was for many ages naked and unpolished, aiming only at expressing the meaning conceived in the mind of the speaker, before any system of rhythm for the sake of tickling the ears was invented.
LVI. Therefore Herodotus also, and his age, and the age preceding him, had no idea of rhythm, except at times by chance, as it seems. And the very ancient writers have left us no rules at all about rhythm, though they have given us many precepts about oratory. For that which is the more easy and the more necessary will always be the first thing known. Therefore, words used in a metaphorical sense, or inverted, or combined, were easily invented because they were derived from ordinary use, and from daily conversation. But rhythm was not drawn from a man's own house, nor had it any connexion of relationship to oratory. And therefore it was later in being noticed and observed, bringing as it did the last touch and lineaments to oratory. But if there is one style of oratory narrow and concise, and another more vague and diffuse, that must clearly be owing, not to the nature of letters, but to the difference between long and short paragraphs; because an oration made up and compounded of these two kinds is sometimes steady, sometimes fluent, and so each character must be kept up by corresponding rhythm. For that circuitous way of speaking, which we have often mentioned already, goes on more impetuously, and hurries along, until it can arrive at its end, and come to a stop. It is quite plain, therefore, that oratory ought to be confined to rhythm, and kept clear of metre.
But the next question is, whether this rhythm is poetical, or whether it is of some other kind. There is, then, no rhythm whatever that is not poetical; because the different kinds of rhythm are clearly defined. For all rhythm is one of three kinds. For the foot which is employed in rhythm is divided into three classes; so that it is necessary that one part of the foot must be either equal to the other part, or as large again, or half as large again. Accordingly, the dactyl is of the first class, the paeon of the last, the iambic of the second. And how is it possible to avoid such feet in an oration? And then when they are arranged with due consideration rhythm is unavoidably produced.
But the question arises, what rhythm is to be employed; either absolutely, or in preference to others. But that every kind of rhythm is at times suitable to oratory, may be seen from this,—that in speaking we often make a verse without intending it, (which, however, is a great fault, but we do not notice it, nor do we hear what we say ourselves;) and as for iambics, whether regular or Hipponactean, those we can scarcely avoid, for our common conversation often consists of iambics. But still the hearer easily recognises those verses, for they are the most usual ones. But at times we unintentionally let fall others which are less usual, but which still are verses; and that is a faulty style of oratory, and one which requires to be guarded against with great care.
Hieronymus, a Peripatetic of the highest character, out of all the numerous compositions of Isocrates, picked out about thirty verses, chiefly iambics, but some also anapaests. And what can be worse? Though in picking them out he acted in an unfair manner, for he took away sometimes the first syllable in the first word of a sentence; and again, he sometimes added to the last word the first syllable of the following sentence. And in this way he made that sort of anapaest which is called the Aristophanic anapaest. And such accidents as these cannot be guarded against, nor do they signify. But still this critic, in the very passage in which he finds this fault with him, (as I noticed when I was examining his work very closely,) himself makes an iambic without knowing it. This, then, may be considered as an established point, that there is rhythm also in prose, and that oratorical is the same as the poetical rhythm.
LVII. It remains, therefore, for us to consider what rhythm occurs most naturally in a well-arranged oration. For some people think that it is the iambic rhythm, because that is the most like a speech, on which account it happens that it is most frequently employed in fables, because of its resemblance to reality—because the dactylic hexameter rhythm is better suited to a lofty and magniloquent subject But Ephorus himself, an inconsiderable orator, though coming from an excellent school, inclines to the paeon, or dactyl, but avoids the spondee and trochee. For because the paeon has three short syllables and the dactyl two, he thinks that the words come more trippingly off on account of the shortness and rapidity of utterance of the syllables; and that a contrary effect is produced by the spondee and trochee, because the one consists of long syllables and the other of short ones; so that a speech made up of the one is too much hurried, it made up of the other is too slow; and neither is well, regulated. But those accents are all in the wrong, and Ephorus is wholly in fault. For those who pass over the paeon, do not perceive that a most delicate, and at the same time most dignified rhythm is passed over by them. But Aristotle's opinion is very different, for he considers that the heroic rhythm is a grander one than is admissible in prose, and that an iambic is too like ordinary conversation. Accordingly, he does not approve of a style which is lowly and abject, or of one which is too lofty and, as it were, on stilts: but still he wishes for one full of dignity, in order to strike those who hear it with the greater admiration. But he calls a trochee, which occupies the same time as a choreus, [Greek: kordax], because its contracted and brief character is devoid of dignity. Accordingly, he approves of the paeon; and says that all men employ it, but that all men are not themselves aware when they do employ it; and that there is a third or middle way between those two, but that those feet are formed in such a way, that in every one of them there is either a time, or a time and a half, or two times. Therefore, those men of whom I have spoken have considered convenience only, and disregarded dignity. For the iambic and the dactyl are those which are most usually employed in verse; and, therefore, as we avoid verses in making speeches, so also a recurrence of these feet must be avoided. For oratory is a different thing from poetry, nor are there any two things more contrary to one another than that is to verses. But the paeon is that foot which, of all others, is least adapted to verse, on which account oratory admits it the more willingly. But Ephorus will not even admit that the spondee, which he condemns, is equivalent to the dactyl, which he approves of. For he thinks that feet ought to be measured by their syllables, not by their quantity; and he does the same in regard to the trochee, which in its quantity and times is equivalent to an iambic; but which is a fault in an oration, if it be placed at the end, because a sentence ends better with a long syllable.
And all this, which is also contained in Aristotle, is said by Theophrastus and Theodectes about the paeon. But my opinion is, that all feet ought to be jumbled together and confused, as it were, in an oration; and that we could not escape blame if we were always to use the same feet; because an oration ought to be neither metrical, like a poem, nor inharmonious, like the conversation of the common people. The one is so fettered by rules that it is manifest that it is designedly arranged as we see it; the other is so loose as to appear ordinary and vulgar; so that you are not pleased with the one, and you hate the other.
Let oratory then be, as I have said above, mingled and regulated with a regard to rhythm; not prosaic, nor on the other hand sacrificed wholly to rhythm; composed chiefly of the paeon, (since that is the opinion of the wisest author on the subject,) with many of the other feet which he passes over intermingled with it.
LVIII. But what feet ought to be mingled with others, like purple, must be now explained; and we must also show to what kind of speech each sort of foot and rhythm is the best adapted. For the iambic is most frequent in those orations which are composed in a humble and lowly style; but the paeon is suited to a more dignified style; and the dactyl to both. Therefore, in a varied and long-continued speech these feet should be mingled together and combined. And in this way the fact of the orator aiming at pleasing the senses, and the careful attempt to round off the speech, will be the less visible, and they will at all times be less apparent if we employ dignified expressions and sentiments. For the hearers observe these two things, and think them agreeable: (I mean, expressions and sentiments.) And while they listen to them with admiring minds, the rhythm escapes their notice; and even if it were wholly wanting they would still be delighted with those other things.
Nor indeed is the rhythm, I mean in a speech, (for the case as to verse is very different,) so exacting that nothing may ever be expressed except according to rule; for then it would be a poem. But every oration which does not halt or if I may so say, fluctuate, and which proceeds on with an equal and consistent pace, is considered rhythmical. And it is considered rhythmical in the delivery; not because it consists wholly of some regular rhythm; but because it comes as near to a musical rhythm as possible: on which account it is more difficult to make a speech than to make verses; because these last have certain definite rules which it is necessary to follow; but, in speaking, there is nothing settled, except that the speech must not be intemperate, or too compressed, or prosaic, or too fluent. Therefore there are no regular bars in it as a flute-player has; but the whole principle and system of an oration is regulated by general rules of universal application; and they are judged of on the principle of pleasing the ear.
LIX. But people often ask, whether in every portion of a paragraph it is necessary to have a regard to rhythm, or whether it is sufficient to do so at the beginning and end of a sentence. For many people think that it is sufficient for a sentence to end and be wound up in a rhythmical manner. But although that is the main point, it is not the only one; for the sounding of the periods is only to be laid aside, not to be thrown away. And therefore, as men's ears are always on the watch for the end of a sentence, and are greatly influenced by that, that certainly ought never to be devoid of rhythm; but harmony ought to pervade the whole sentence from beginning to end; and the whole ought to proceed from the beginning so naturally that the end shall be consistent with every previous part. But that will not be difficult to men who have been trained in a good school, who have written many things, and who have made also all the speeches which they have delivered without written papers like written speeches. For the sentence is first composed in the mind; and then words come immediately: and then they are immediately sent forth by the mind, than which nothing is more rapid in its movements; so that each falls into its proper place. And then their regular order is settled by different terminations in different sentences; and all the expressions at the beginning and in the middle of the sentence ought to be composed with reference to the end. For sometimes the torrent of an oration is rapid; sometimes its progress is moderate; so that from the very beginning one can see how one wishes to come to the end. Nor is it in rhythm more than in the other embellishments of a speech that we behave exactly as poets do; though still, in an oration, we avoid all resemblance to a poem.
LX. For there is in both oratory and poetry, first of all the material, then the execution. The material consists in the words, the execution in the arrangement of the words. But there are three divisions of each,—of words there is the metaphorical, the new, and the old-fashioned; for of appropriate words we say nothing at present; but of arrangement there are those which we have mentioned, composition, neatness, and rhythm. But the poets are the most free and frequent in the use of each; for they use words in a metaphorical sense not only more frequently, but also more daringly; and they use old-fashioned words more willingly, and new ones more freely. And the case with respect to rhythm is the same; in which they are obliged to comply with a kind of necessity: but still these things must be understood as being neither too different, nor yet in any respect united. Accordingly we find that rhythm is not the same in an oration as in a poem; and that that which is pronounced to be rhythmical in an oration is not always effected by a strict attention to the rules of rhythm; but sometimes either by neatness, or by the casual arrangement of the words.
Accordingly, if the question is raised as to what is the rhythm of an oration, it is every sort of rhythm; but one sort is better and more suitable than another. If the question is, what is the place of this rhythm? it is in every portion of the words. If you ask where it has arisen; it has arisen from the pleasure of the ears. If the principle is sought on which the words are to be arranged; that will be explained in another place, because that relates to practice, which was the fourth and last division which we made of the subject. If the question is, when; always: if, in what place; it consists in the entire connexion of the words. If we are asked, What is the circumstance which causes pleasure? we reply, that it is the same as in verse; the method of which is determined by art; but the ears themselves define it by their own silent sensations, without any reference to principles of art.
LXI. We have said enough of the nature of it. The practice follows; and that we must discuss with greater accuracy. And in this discussion inquiry has been made, whether it is in the whole of that rounding of a sentence which the Greeks call [Greek: periodos], and which we call "ambitus" or "circuitus," or "comprehensio" or "continuatio" or "circumscriptio," or in the beginning only, or in the end, or in both, that rhythm must be maintained? And, in the next place, as rhythm appears one thing and a rhythmical sentence another, what is the difference between them? and again, whether it is proper for the divisions of a sentence to be equal in every sort of rhythm, or whether we should make some shorter and some longer; and if so, when, and why, and in what parts; whether in many or in one; whether in unequal or equal ones; and when we are to use one, and when the other; and what words may be most suitably combined together, and how; or whether there is absolutely no distinction; and, what is most material to the subject of all things, by what system oratory may be made rhythmical. We must also explain from whence such a form of words has arisen; and we must explain what periods it may be becoming to make, and we must also discuss their parts and sections, if I may so call them; and inquire whether they have all one appearance and length, or more than one; and if many, in what place; or when we may use them, and what kinds it is proper to use; and, lastly, the utility of the whole kind is to be explained, which indeed is of wider application; for it is adapted not to any one particular thing, but to many.
And a man may, without giving replies on each separate point, speak of the entire genus in such a way that his answer may appear sufficient as to the whole matter. Leaving, therefore, the other kinds out of the question, we select this one, which is conversant with actions and the forum, concerning which we will speak.
Therefore in other kinds, that is to say, in history and in that kind of argument which we call [Greek: epideiktikon], it seems good that everything should be said after the example of Isocrates and Theopompus, with that sort of period and rounding of a sentence that the oration shall run on in a sort of circle, until it stops in separate, perfect, and complete sentences. Therefore after this circumscriptio, or continuatio, or comprehensio, or ambitus, if we may so call it, was once introduced, there was no one of any consideration who ever wrote an oration of that kind which was intended only to give pleasure, and unconnected with judicial proceedings or forensic contests, who did not reduce almost all his sentences to a certain set form and rhythm. For, as his hearers are men who have no fear that their own good faith is being attempted to be undermined by the snare of a well-arranged oration, they are even grateful to the orator for studying so much to gratify their ears.
LXII. But this kind of oratory is neither to be wholly appropriated to forensic causes, nor is it entirely to be repudiated. For if you constantly employ it, when it has produced weariness then even unskilful people can recognise its character. Besides, it takes away the indignation which is intended to be excited by the pleading; it takes away the manly sensibility of the pleader; it wholly puts an end to all truth and good faith. But since it ought to be employed at times, first of all, we should see in what place; secondly, how long it is to be maintained; and lastly, in how many ways it may be varied. We must, then, employ a rhythmical oratory, if we have occasion either to praise anything in an ornate style,—as we ourselves spoke in the second book of our impeachment of Verres concerning the praise of Sicily; and in the senate, of my own consulship; or a narration must be delivered which requires more dignity than indignation,—as in the fourth book of that same impeachment we spoke concerning the Ceres of Enna, the Diana of Segeste, and the situation of Syracuse. Often also when employed in amplifying a case, an oration is poured forth harmoniously and volubly with the approbation of all men. That perhaps we have never quite accomplished; but we have certainly very often attempted it; as our perorations in many places show that we have, and indeed that we have been very eager to effect it. But this is most effective when the hearer is already blockaded, as it were, and taken prisoner by the speaker. For he then no longer thinks of watching and guarding against the orator, but he is already on his side; and wishes him to proceed, admitting the force of his eloquence, and never thinking of looking for anything with which to find fault.
But this style is not to be maintained long; I do not mean in the peroration which it concludes, but in the other divisions of the speech. For when the orator has employed those topics which I have shown to be admissible, then the whole of his efforts must be transferred to what the Greeks call, I know not why, [Greek: kommata] and [Greek: kola], and which we may translate, though not very correctly, "incisa" and "membra." For there cannot be well-known names given to things which are not known; but when we use words in a metaphorical sense, either for the sake of sweetness or because of the poverty of the language, this result takes place in every art, that when we have got to speak of that which, on account of our ignorance of its existence, had no name at all previously, necessity compels us either to coin a new word, or to borrow a name from something resembling it.