<GetPassage xmlns:tei="http://www.tei-c.org/ns/1.0" xmlns="http://chs.harvard.edu/xmlns/cts">
            <request>
                <requestName>GetPassage</requestName>
                <requestUrn>urn:cts:latinLit:phi1002.phi001.perseus-eng2:9.2.1-9.2.20</requestUrn>
            </request>
            <reply>
                <urn>urn:cts:latinLit:phi1002.phi001.perseus-eng2:9.2.1-9.2.20</urn>
                <passage>
                    <TEI xmlns="http://www.tei-c.org/ns/1.0"><text xml:lang="eng"><body><div n="urn:cts:latinLit:phi1002.phi001.perseus-eng2" type="translation" xml:lang="eng"><div n="9" type="textpart" subtype="book"><div n="2" type="textpart" subtype="chapter"><div n="1" type="textpart" subtype="section"><p> The student who desires to give a wider consideration to figures of
                            thought and speech will, therefore, have a guide to follow, and 1 would
                            not venture to assert that he could have a better. But I would ask him
                            to read these passages of Cicero with reference to my own views on this
                            subject. For I intend to speak only of those figures of thought which
                            depart from the direct method of statement, and I note that a similar
                            procedure has been adopted by a number of learned scholars. </p></div><div n="2" type="textpart" subtype="section"><p> On the other hand, all those embellishments which differ in character
                            from these are none the less virtues whose importance is such that
                            without them all oratory will be little less than unintelligible. For
                            how can the judge be adequately instructed unless lucidity characterise
                            our performance of the following tasks: explanation, proposition,
                            promise of proofs, definition, distinction, exposition of our own
                            opinion, logical conclusion, defence by anticipation, introduction of
                            comparisons or precedents, disposition and distribution, interruption,
                            repression of those who interrupt us, antithesis, exculpation and
                            personal attack? </p></div><div n="3" type="textpart" subtype="section"><p> Again, what would eloquence do if deprived of the artifices of
                            amplification and its opposite? of which the first requires the gift of
                            signifying more than we say, that is <hi rend="italic">emphasis,</hi>
                            together with exaggeration and overstatement of the truth, while the
                            latter requires the power to diminish and palliate. What scope is there
                            for the stronger emotions if the orator is not allowed to give free rein
                                <pb n="v7-9 p.377"/> to his speech, to flame out in anger, to
                            reproach, to wish or execrate? Or for the milder emotions without the
                            assistance of commendation, conciliation and humour? </p></div><div n="4" type="textpart" subtype="section"><p> What pleasure can an orator hope to produce, or what impression even of
                            the most moderate learning, unless he knows how to fix one point in the
                            minds of the audience by repetition, and another by dwelling on it, how
                            to digress from and return to his theme, to divert the blame from
                            himself and transfer it to another, or to decide what points to omit and
                            what to ignore as negligible? It is qualities such as these that give
                            life and vigour to oratory; without them it lies torpid like a body
                            lacking the breath to stir its limbs. </p></div><div n="5" type="textpart" subtype="section"><p> But more than the mere possession of these qualities is required; they
                            must be deployed, each in their proper place and with such variety that
                            every sound may bewitch the hearer with all the charm of music. But
                            these qualities are as a rule open and direct, manifesting themselves
                            without disguise. They do, however, as I have said, admit of <hi rend="italic">figures,</hi> as the instances to which I shall
                            proceed will show. </p></div><div n="6" type="textpart" subtype="section"><p> What is more common than to <hi rend="italic">ask</hi> or <hi rend="italic">enquire?</hi> For both terms are used indifferently,
                            although the one seems to imply a desire for knowledge, and the other a
                            desire to prove something. But whichever term we use, the thing which
                            they represent admits a variety of figures. We will begin with those
                            which serve to increase the force and cogency of proof to which I assign
                            the first place. </p></div><div n="7" type="textpart" subtype="section"><p> A simple question may be illustrated by the line: <note anchored="true" place="unspecified"> quanquam, <hi rend="italic">Spalding:</hi> quam
                                cum, <hi rend="italic">A:</hi> cum, <hi rend="italic">B.</hi>
                        </note>
                        <quote rend="blockquote"><quote><l part="N">But who
                                        are ye and from what shores are come?</l></quote></quote> On
                            the other hand, a question involves a figure, <pb n="v7-9 p.379"/>
                            whenever it is employed not to get information, but to emphasise our
                            point, as in the following examples: <note anchored="true" place="unspecified"><hi rend="italic">pro. Lig. iii.</hi> 9 and <hi rend="italic">in Cat. i. 1.</hi>
                        </note>
                        <quote>What was that
                                sword of yours doing, Tubero, that was drawn on the field of
                                Pharsalus?</quote> and <quote>How long, Catiline, will you abuse our
                                patience?</quote> and <quote>Do you not see that your plots are all
                                laid bare?</quote> with the whole passage that follows. </p></div><div n="8" type="textpart" subtype="section"><p> How much greater is the fire of his words as they stand than if he had
                            said, <quote>You have abused our patience a long time,</quote> and
                                <quote>Your plots are all laid bare.</quote> We may also ask what
                            cannot be denied, as <quote>Was Gaius Fidiculanius Falcula, I ask you,
                                brought to justice?</quote>
                        <note anchored="true" place="unspecified"><hi rend="italic">pro Cluent.</hi> xxxvii. 103. </note> Or we
                            may put a question to which it is difficult to reply, as in the common
                            forms, <quote>How is it possible?</quote>
                        <quote><hi rend="italic">How</hi> can that be? </quote>
                     </p></div><div n="9" type="textpart" subtype="section"><p> Or we may ask a question with a view to throw odium on the person to
                            whom it is addressed, as in the words placed by Seneca in the mouth of
                            Medea: <note anchored="true" place="unspecified"><hi rend="italic">Med.</hi> 451. </note>
                        <quote rend="blockquote"><quote><l part="N">What lands dost bid me seek?</l></quote></quote> Or
                            our aim may be to excite pity, as is the case with the question asked by
                            Sinon in Virgil: <note anchored="true" place="unspecified"><hi rend="italic">Aen.</hi> ii. 69. </note>
                        <quote rend="blockquote"><quote><l part="I">Alas, what lands, lie cried,</l><l part="N">What seas can now receive me?</l></quote></quote>
                            Or to embarrass our opponent and to deprive him of the power to feign
                            ignorance of our meaning, as Asinius does in the following sentence:
                                <quote> Do you hear? The will which we impugn is the work of a
                                madman, not of one who lacked natural affection. </quote> In fact
                            questions admit of infinite variety. </p></div><div n="10" type="textpart" subtype="section"><p> They may serve our indignation, as in the line: <quote rend="blockquote"><cit><quote><l part="N">Are any left</l><l part="N">That still adore
                                            Juno's divinity?</l></quote><bibl default="false"><hi rend="italic">Aen.</hi> i. 48. </bibl></cit></quote>
                        <pb n="v7-9 p.381"/> Or they may still express wonder,
                            as in: <quote rend="blockquote"><cit><quote><l part="N">To what dost thou not drive the hearts of
                                            men,</l><l part="N">Accursed greed of gold?</l></quote><bibl default="false"><hi rend="italic">Aen.</hi> iii. 56.
                                    </bibl></cit></quote> Again, at times they may express a sharp command,
                        </p></div><div n="11" type="textpart" subtype="section"><p> as in: <quote rend="blockquote"><cit><quote><l part="N">Will they not rush to arms and follow
                                            forth</l><l part="N">From all the city?</l></quote><bibl default="false"><hi rend="italic">Aen.</hi> iv. 592.
                                    </bibl></cit></quote> Or we may ask ourselves, as in the phrase of Terence,
                                <quote>What, then, shall I do?</quote>
                        <note anchored="true" place="unspecified"><hi rend="italic">Eun.</hi> I. i. 1. </note>
                     </p></div><div n="12" type="textpart" subtype="section"><p> A figure is also involved in a reply, when one question is asked and
                            another is answered, because it suits the respondent's purpose better to
                            do so, or because it aggravates the charge brought against the accused.
                            For example, a witness for the prosecution was asked whether he had been
                            cudgelled by the plaintiff, and replied, <quote>And what is more, I had
                                done him no harm.</quote> Or the purpose may be to elude a charge, a
                            very common form of reply. The advocate says, <quote>I ask if you killed
                                the man?</quote> The accused replies, <quote>He was a
                                robber.</quote> The advocate asks, <quote>Have you occupied the
                                farm?</quote> The accused replies, <quote>It was my own.</quote>
                     </p></div><div n="13" type="textpart" subtype="section"><p> Again, the answer may be of such a kind as to make defence precede
                            confession. For example, in the <hi rend="italic">Eclogues</hi>
                        <note anchored="true" place="unspecified"><hi rend="italic">Ecl.</hi> iii.
                                17 and 21. </note> of Virgil, when one shepherd asks: <quote rend="blockquote"><quote><l part="N">Did I not see you, villain,
                                        snare a goat</l><l part="N">Of Damon's?</l></quote></quote>
                            the other replies: <quote rend="blockquote"><quote><l part="N">I
                                        vanquished him in song, and should he not</l><l part="N">Pay
                                        me the prize, my due?</l></quote></quote>
                     </p></div><div n="14" type="textpart" subtype="section"><p> Akin to this kind of answer is the dissimulatory <pb n="v7-9 p.383"/>
                            reply, which is employed solely with the purpose of raising a laugh, and
                            has therefore been treated in its appropriate place. <note anchored="true" place="unspecified">VI. iii. 68.</note> If it were
                            meant seriously, it would be tantamount to a confession. Further, there
                            is the practice of putting the question and answering it oneself, which
                            may have quite a pleasing effect. Take as an example the following
                            passage from the <hi rend="italic">pro Ligario,</hi>
                        <note anchored="true" place="unspecified">iii. 7.</note> where Cicero
                            says, <quote> Before whom do I say this? Before one who, although he was
                                aware of these facts, yet restored me to my country even before he
                                had seen me. </quote>
                     </p></div><div n="15" type="textpart" subtype="section"><p> A different form of fictitious question is to be found in the <hi rend="italic">pro Caelio.</hi>
                        <quote> Some one will say, 'Is this
                                your moral discipline? Is this the training you would give young
                                men?' </quote> with the whole passage that follows. Then comes his
                            reply, <quote> Gentlemen, if there were any man with such vigour of
                                mind, with such innate virtue and self-control, etc. </quote>
                        <note anchored="true" place="unspecified"> xvii. 39 <hi rend="italic">sqq.</hi> The passage concludes, <quote> I should consider such
                                    an one the possessor of qualities which I can only call worthy
                                    of a god. </quote>
                        </note> A different method is to ask a
                            question and not to wait for a reply, but to subjoin the reply at once
                            yourself. For example, <quote> Had you no house? Yes, you had one. Had
                                you money and to spare? No, you were in actual want. </quote>
                        <note anchored="true" place="unspecified"><hi rend="italic">Orat.</hi>
                                lxvii. 223. </note> This is a figure which some call <hi rend="italic">suggestion.</hi>
                     </p></div><div n="16" type="textpart" subtype="section"><p> Again, a question may involve <hi rend="italic">comparison,</hi> as, for
                            instance, <quote>Which of the two then could more easily assign a reason
                                for his opinion?</quote>
                        <note anchored="true" place="unspecified"><hi rend="italic">pro Cluent.</hi> xxxviii. 106. </note> There
                            are other forms of question as well, some concise, some developed at
                            greater length, some dealing with one thing only, others with several.
                                <hi rend="italic">Anticipation,</hi> or, as the Greeks call it,
                                <foreign xml:lang="grc">πρόληψις,</foreign> whereby we forestall
                            objections, is of extraordinary value in pleading; it is frequently
                            employed in all parts of a speech, but is especially useful in the <hi rend="italic">exordium.</hi>
                     </p></div><div n="17" type="textpart" subtype="section"><p> However, it forms a genus in itself, and <pb n="v7-9 p.385"/> has
                            several different species. One of these is the defence by anticipation,
                            such as Cicero employs against Quintus Caecilius, <note anchored="true" place="unspecified"><hi rend="italic">Div. in Caec.</hi> i. 1.
                            </note> where he points out that though previously he himself has always
                            appeared for the defence, he is now undertaking a prosecution. Another
                            is a form of <hi rend="italic">confession,</hi> such as he introduces in
                            his defence of Rabirius Postumus, <note anchored="true" place="unspecified">Chs. i. and ix.</note> where he admits that he
                            himself regards his client as worthy of censure for lending money to the
                            king. Another takes the form of <hi rend="italic">prediction,</hi> as in
                            the phrase, <quote>For I will say without any intention of aggravating
                                the charge.</quote> Again, there is a form of <hi rend="italic">self-correction,</hi> such as, <quote>I beg you to pardon me, if I
                                have been carried too far.</quote> And, most frequent of all, there
                            is <hi rend="italic">preparation,</hi> whereby we state fully why we are
                            going to do something or have done it. </p></div><div n="18" type="textpart" subtype="section"><p><hi rend="italic">Anticipation</hi> may also be employed to establish the
                            meaning or <hi rend="italic">propriety</hi> of words, as in the
                            following case, <quote>Although that was not a punishment, but merely a
                                prevention of crime,</quote>
                        <note anchored="true" place="unspecified">From a lost work of Cicero.</note> while the
                            same effect may be produced by <hi rend="italic">qualification,</hi> as
                            in the following sentence, <quote>Citizens, I say, if I may call them by
                                that name.</quote>
                        <note anchored="true" place="unspecified"><hi rend="italic">pro Mur.</hi> xxxvii. 80. </note>
                     </p></div><div n="19" type="textpart" subtype="section"><p> Again, hesitation may lend an impression of truth to our statements,
                            when, for example, we pretend to be at a loss, where to begin or end, or
                            to decide what especially requires to be said or not to be said at all.
                            All speeches are full of such instances, but for the present one will be
                            enough. <quote> As for myself, I know not where to turn. Shall I deny
                                that there was a scandalous rumour that the jury had been bribed,
                                etc.? </quote>
                        <note anchored="true" place="unspecified"><hi rend="italic">pro Cluent.</hi> i. 4. </note>
                     </p></div><div n="20" type="textpart" subtype="section"><p> This device may also be employed to cover the past; for we may equally
                            pretend that we <hi rend="italic">had</hi> felt hesitation on the
                            subject. This figure is akin to that known as <hi rend="italic">communication,</hi>
                        <pb n="v7-9 p.387"/> when we actually take our
                            opponents into consultation, as Domitius Afer does in his defence of
                            Cloatilla. <quote> She is so agitated that she does not know what is
                                permitted to a woman or what becomes a wife. It may be that chance
                                has brought you into contact with the unhappy woman in her helpless
                                plight. What counsel do you give her, you her brother, and you, her
                                father's friends? </quote>
                     </p></div></div></div></div></body></text></TEI>
                </passage>
            </reply>
            </GetPassage>