<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-eng2:9.2.41-9.2.60</requestUrn>
            </request>
            <reply>
                <urn>urn:cts:latinLit:phi1002.phi001.perseus-eng2:9.2.41-9.2.60</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="41" type="textpart" subtype="section"><p> Nor is it only past or present actions which we may imagine: we may
                            equally well present a picture of what is likely to happen or might have
                            happened. This is done with extraordinary skill by Cicero in his defence
                            of Milo, <note anchored="true" place="unspecified">Ch. 32.</note> where
                            he shows what Clodius would have done, had he succeeded in securing the
                            praetorship. But this <hi rend="italic">transference of time,</hi> which
                            is technically called <foreign xml:lang="grc">μετάστασις</foreign> was
                            more modestly used in <hi rend="italic">vivid description</hi> by the
                            old orators. For they would preface it by words such as <quote>Imagine
                                that you see</quote> : take, for example, the words of Cicero <note anchored="true" place="unspecified">Not found in extant works of
                                Cicero.</note> : <quote>Though you cannot see this with your bodily
                                eyes, you can see it with the mind's eye.</quote>
                     </p></div><div n="42" type="textpart" subtype="section"><p> Modern authors, however, more especially the declaimers, are bolder,
                            indeed they show the utmost animation in giving rein to their
                            imagination; witness the following passages from Seneca's treatment of
                            the controversial theme in which a father, guided by one of his sons,
                            finds another son in the act of adultery with his stepmother and kills
                            both culprits. <quote>Lead me, I follow, take this old hand of mine and
                                direct it where you will.</quote>
                     </p></div><div n="43" type="textpart" subtype="section"><p> And a little later, <quote> See, he says, what for so long you refused
                                to believe. As for myself, I cannot see, night and thick darkness
                                veil my eyes. </quote> This figure is too dramatic: for the story
                            seems to be acted, not narrated. </p></div><div n="44" type="textpart" subtype="section"><p> Some include the clear and vivid description of places under the same
                            heading, while others call it <hi rend="italic">topography.</hi> I have
                            found some who speak of <hi rend="italic">irony</hi> as <hi rend="italic">dissimulation,</hi> but, in view of the fact that this
                            latter name <pb n="v7-9 p.401"/> does not cover the whole range of this
                            figure, I shall follow my general rule and rest content with the Greek
                            term. <hi rend="italic">Irony</hi> involving a <hi rend="italic">figure</hi> does not differ from the <hi rend="italic">irony</hi>
                            which is a <hi rend="italic">trope,</hi> as far as its <hi rend="italic">genus</hi> is concerned, since in both cases we understand
                            something which is the opposite of what is actually said; on the other
                            hand, a careful consideration of the <hi rend="italic">species</hi> of
                                <hi rend="italic">irony</hi> will soon reveal the fact that they
                            differ. </p></div><div n="45" type="textpart" subtype="section"><p> In the first place, the <hi rend="italic">trope</hi> is franker in its
                            meaning, and, despite the fact that it implies something other than it
                            says, makes no pretence about it. For the context as a rule is perfectly
                            clear, as, for example, in the following passage from the Catilinarian
                            orations. <note anchored="true" place="unspecified">I. viii.
                                19.</note>
                        <quote>Rejected by him, you migrated to your
                                boon-companion, that excellent gentleman Metellus.</quote> In this
                            case the irony lies in two words, and is therefore a specially concise
                            form of <hi rend="italic">trope.</hi>
                     </p></div><div n="46" type="textpart" subtype="section"><p> But in the <hi rend="italic">figurative</hi> form of irony the speaker
                            disguises his entire meaning, the disguise being apparent rather than
                            confessed. For in the <hi rend="italic">trope</hi> the conflict is
                            purely verbal, while in the <hi rend="italic">figure</hi> the meaning,
                            and sometimes the whole aspect of our case, conflicts with the language
                            and the tone of voice adopted; nay, a man's whole life may be coloured
                            with <hi rend="italic">irony,</hi> as was the case with Socrates, who
                            was called an <hi rend="italic">ironist</hi> because he assumed the role
                            of an ignorant man lost in wonder at the wisdom of others. Thus, as
                            continued <hi rend="italic">metaphor</hi> develops into <hi rend="italic">allegory,</hi> so a sustained series of <hi rend="italic">tropes</hi> develops into this <hi rend="italic">figure.</hi>
                     </p></div><div n="47" type="textpart" subtype="section"><p> There are, however, certain kinds of <hi rend="italic">this figure</hi>
                            which have no connexion with <hi rend="italic">tropes.</hi> In the first
                            place, there is the <hi rend="italic">figure</hi> which derives its name
                            from negation and is called by some <foreign xml:lang="grc">ἀντίφρασις.</foreign> Here is an example: <quote> I will not plead
                                against you according to the rigour <pb n="v7-9 p.403"/> of the law,
                                I will not press the point which I should perhaps be able to make
                                good </quote>
                        <note anchored="true" place="unspecified"><hi rend="italic">Verr.</hi> v. ii. 4. </note> ; or again, <quote>
                                Why should I mention his decrees, his acts of plunder, his
                                acquisition, whether by cession or by force, of certain
                                inheritances? </quote>
                        <note anchored="true" place="unspecified"><hi rend="italic">Phil.</hi> II. xxv. 62. </note> or <quote>I say
                                nothing of the first wrong inflicted by his lust</quote> ; or
                                <quote>I do not even propose to produce the evidence given
                                concerning the 600,000 sesterces</quote> ; </p></div><div n="48" type="textpart" subtype="section"><p> or <quote>I might say, etc.</quote>
                        <note anchored="true" place="unspecified"><hi rend="italic">pro Cael.</hi> xxii. 53.
                            </note> Such kinds of irony may even be sustained at times through whole
                            sections of our argument, as, for instance, where Cicero <note anchored="true" place="unspecified"><hi rend="italic">pro
                                    Cluent.</hi> lx. 166. </note> says, <quote> If I were to plead
                                on this point as though there were some real charge to refute, I
                                should speak at greater length. </quote> It is also <hi rend="italic">irony</hi> when we assume the tone of command or
                            concession, as in Virgil's <note anchored="true" place="unspecified"><hi rend="italic">Aen.</hi> iv. 381. Dido to Aeneas. She continues
                                by praying for his destruution. </note>
                        <quote rend="blockquote"><quote><l part="F">Go!</l><l part="N">Follow the winds to
                                        Italy;</l></quote></quote>
                     </p></div><div n="49" type="textpart" subtype="section"><p> or when we concede to our opponents qualities which we are unwilling
                            that they should seem to possess. This is specially effective when we
                            possess these qualities and they do not, as in the following passage,
                                <note anchored="true" place="unspecified"><hi rend="italic">Aen.</hi> xi. 383. Turnus addresses Drances, who has been
                                attacking him as the cause of the war and bidding him fight himself,
                                if he would win Lavinia for his bride. </note>
                        <quote rend="blockquote"><quote><l part="N"> Brand <hi rend="italic">me</hi> as coward, Drances, since thy sword </l><l part="N">Has slain such hosts of
                                Trojans.</l></quote></quote> A like result is produced by reversing
                            this method when we pretend to own to faults which are not ours or which
                            even recoil upon the heads of our opponents, as for example, <quote rend="blockquote"><cit><quote><l part="N">'Twas I that led the Dardan gallant on</l><l part="N">To storm the bridal bed of Sparta's
                                        queen!</l></quote><bibl default="false"><hi rend="italic">Aen.</hi> x. 92. Juno
                                        ironically pretends to have brought about the rape of Helen,
                                        which was in reality the work of Venus. </bibl></cit></quote>
                     </p></div><div n="50" type="textpart" subtype="section"><p> Further, this device of saying the opposite of what <pb n="v7-9 p.405"/>
                            we desire to imply is not merely restricted to persons, but may be
                            extended to things, witness the whole of the <hi rend="italic">exordium</hi> of the <hi rend="italic">pro Ligario</hi> and
                            disparaging phrases such as <quote>Forsooth,</quote>
                        <quote>ye great
                                gods!</quote> or <quote rend="blockquote"><cit><quote><l part="N">Fit task, I ween, for gods!</l></quote><bibl default="false"><hi rend="italic">Aen.</hi> iv,. 379. Dido
                                        mocks the excuse of Aeneas that he had received the direct
                                        command of heaven to leave Carthage. </bibl></cit></quote>
                     </p></div><div n="51" type="textpart" subtype="section"><p> Another example is provided by the following passage from the <hi rend="italic">pro Oppio,</hi>
                        <quote>What wondrous love! what
                                extraordinary benevolence!</quote> Akin to <hi rend="italic">irony</hi> also are the following <hi rend="italic">figures,</hi>
                            which have a strong family resemblance: <hi rend="italic">confession</hi> of a kind that can do our case no harm, such as the
                            following <note anchored="true" place="unspecified"><hi rend="italic">pro Lig.</hi> i. 2. </note> : <quote> You have now, Tubero, the
                                advantage most desired by an accuser: the accused confesses his
                                guilt </quote> ; secondly, <hi rend="italic">concession,</hi> when
                            we pretend to admit something actually unfavourable to ourselves by way
                            of showing our confidence in our cause, as in the following passage
                                <note anchored="true" place="unspecified"><hi rend="italic">Verr.</hi> v. xliv. 117 </note> : <quote> The commander of a
                                ship from a distinguished city paid down a sum of money to rid
                                himself of the fear of a scourging which hung over his head; it
                                shows Verres' humanity </quote> ; or again, in the <hi rend="italic">pro Cluentio,</hi>
                        <note anchored="true" place="unspecified"><hi rend="italic">pro Cluet.</hi> ii. 5. </note> where Cicero is
                            speaking of the prejudice aroused against his client, <quote>Let it
                                prevail in the public assembly, but be silent in the courts of
                                law</quote> ; thirdly, <hi rend="italic">agreement,</hi> as when
                            Cicero, <note anchored="true" place="unspecified"><hi rend="italic"> pro
                                    Cluent.</hi> xxiii. 63. </note> in the same speech, agrees that
                            the jury was bribed. </p></div><div n="52" type="textpart" subtype="section"><p> This last form of <hi rend="italic">figure</hi> becomes more striking
                            when we agree to something which is really likely to tell in our favour;
                            but such an opportunity can only occur through weakness on the part of
                            our opponent Sometimes we may even praise some action of our opponent,
                            as Cicero does in his prosecution of Verres <note anchored="true" place="unspecified"><hi rend="italic">Verr.</hi><milestone n="4" unit="chapter"/><milestone n="1" unit="section"/> xvii. 37. <hi rend="italic">i.e.</hi> Apollonius deserved it. </note> when
                            dealing with the charge in connexion with <pb n="v7-9 p.407"/>
                            Apollonius of Drepanum: <quote> Nay, it is a real pleasure to me to
                                think that you took something from him, and I say that you never did
                                a juster action in your life. </quote>
                     </p></div><div n="53" type="textpart" subtype="section"><p> At times we may exaggerate charges against ourselves which we can easily
                            refute or deny; this device is too common to require any illustration.
                            At other times we may by this same method make the charges brought
                            against us seem incredible just because of their gravity: thus Cicero in
                            his defence of Roscius, <note anchored="true" place="unspecified">Roscius of Ameria was accused of parricide.</note> by the sheer
                            force of his eloquence, exaggerates the horror of parricide, despite the
                            fact that it requires no demonstration. </p></div><div n="54" type="textpart" subtype="section"><p><hi rend="italic">Aposiopesis,</hi> which Cicero <note anchored="true" place="unspecified">See quotation in IX. i. 31.</note> calls <hi rend="italic">reticentia,</hi> Celsus <hi rend="italic">obticentia,</hi> and some <hi rend="italic">interruptio,</hi> is
                            used to indicate passion or anger, as in the line: <note anchored="true" place="unspecified"><hi rend="italic">Aen.</hi> i. 135. Neptune
                                rebukes the winds for raising a storm, but breaks off without
                                actually saying what he would do to them. </note>
                        <quote rend="blockquote"><quote><l part="F">Whom I—</l><l part="N">But
                                        better first these billows to assuage.</l></quote></quote>
                            Or it may serve to give an impression of anxiety or scruple, as in the
                            following: <note anchored="true" place="unspecified"> Now frequently
                                inserted in <hi rend="italic">pro Mil.</hi> xii. 33. But it is quite
                                possible that the words formed part of the speech actually
                                delivered, and do not belong to the existing speech, from the MSS.
                                from which they are absent. The law proposed to give freedmen the
                                right to vote in all thirty-five tribes and not as before in the
                                four city-tribes only. </note>
                        <quote> Would he have dared to mention
                                this law of which Clodius boasts he was the author, while Milo was
                                alive, I will not say was consul? For as regards all of us—I do not
                                dare to complete the sentence. </quote> There is a similar instance
                            in the exordium of Demosthenes' speech in defence of Ctesiphon. <note anchored="true" place="unspecified"> § 3. <foreign xml:lang="grc">ἀλλ᾽ ἐμοὶ—οὐ βούλομαι δὲ δυσχερὲς εἰπεῖν
                                οὐδέν.</foreign>
                        </note>
                     </p></div><div n="55" type="textpart" subtype="section"><p> Again it may be employed as a means of transition, as, for example,
                                <note anchored="true" place="unspecified"> From <hi rend="italic">thepro Cornelio.</hi>
                        </note>
                        <quote>Cominius, however— nay,
                                pardon me, gentlemen.</quote> This last instance also involves <hi rend="italic">digression,</hi> if indeed digression is to be counted
                            among <hi rend="italic">figures,</hi> since some authorities regard it
                            as forming one of the parts of a speech. <note anchored="true" place="unspecified"><hi rend="italic">cp.</hi> xv. iii. 12. </note>
                            For at <pb n="v7-9 p.409"/> this point the orator diverges to sing the
                            praises of Gnaeus Pompeius, which he might have done without any
                            recourse to <hi rend="italic">aposiopesis.</hi>
                     </p></div><div n="56" type="textpart" subtype="section"><p> For as Cicero <note anchored="true" place="unspecified">From the passage
                                quoted IX. i. 28.</note> says, the shorter form of <hi rend="italic">digression</hi> may be effected in a number of different ways. The
                            following passages will, however, suffice as examples: <quote> Then
                                Gaius Varenus, that is, the Varenus who was killed by the slaves of
                                Ancharius:—I beg you, gentlemen, to give careful attention to what I
                                am about to say <note anchored="true" place="unspecified"> From the
                                    lost <hi rend="italic">pro Varcno.</hi>
                           </note> ; </quote> the
                            second is from the pro Milone <note anchored="true" place="unspecified">xii. 33.</note> : <quote> Then he turned on me that glance, which
                                it was his wont to assume, when he threatened all the world with
                                every kind of violence. </quote>
                     </p></div><div n="57" type="textpart" subtype="section"><p> There is also another kind of figure, which is not aposiopesis, since
                            that involves leaving a sentence unfinished, but consists in bringing
                            our words to a close before the natural point for their conclusion. The
                            following is an example <note anchored="true" place="unspecified"><hi rend="italic">pro Lig.</hi> iii. 9. </note> : <quote>I am
                                pressing my point too far; the young man appears to be moved</quote>
                            ; or <note anchored="true" place="unspecified"> A free quotation from
                                    <hi rend="italic">Verr.</hi> v. xliv. 116 </note>
                        <quote>Why
                                should I say more? you heard the young man tell the story
                                himself.</quote> The imitation of other persons' characteristics,
                        </p></div><div n="58" type="textpart" subtype="section"><p> which is styled <foreign xml:lang="grc">ἠθοποιί͂α</foreign> or, as some
                            prefer <foreign xml:lang="grc">μίμησις</foreign> may be counted among
                            the devices which serve to excite the gentler emotions. For it consists
                            mainly in banter, though it may be concerned either with words or deeds.
                            If concerned with the latter, it closely resembles <foreign xml:lang="grc">ὑποτύπωσις</foreign> while the following passage from
                            Terence <note anchored="true" place="unspecified"><hi rend="italic">Eun.</hi> I. ii. 75. </note> will illustrate it as applied to
                            words: <quote> I didn't see your drift. 'A little girl was stolen from
                                this place; my mother brought her up as her own daughter. She was
                                known as my sister. I want to get her away to restore her to her
                                relations.' </quote>
                     </p></div><div n="59" type="textpart" subtype="section"><p> We may, however, imitate our own words and deeds in a similar fashion by
                            relating some <pb n="v7-9 p.411"/> act or statement, though in such
                            cases the speaker more frequently does so to assert his point than for
                            the sake of banter, as, for example, in the following, <note anchored="true" place="unspecified"><hi rend="italic">Div. in
                                    Caec.</hi> ii. 4. Cicero ironically suggested to the Sicilians
                                that Caecilius should undertake their case. He was a bogus accuser
                                put forward by Verres himself, whose quaest or he had been in
                                Sicily. </note>
                        <quote>I said that they had Quintus Caecilius to
                                conduct the prosecution.</quote> There are other devices also which
                            are agreeable in themselves and serve not a little to commend our case
                            both by the introduction of variety and by their intrinsic naturalness,
                            since by giving our speech an appearance of simplicity and spontaneity
                            they make the judges more ready to accept our statements without
                            suspicion. </p></div><div n="60" type="textpart" subtype="section"><p> Thus we may feign repentance for what we have said, as in the <hi rend="italic">pro Caelio,</hi>
                        <note anchored="true" place="unspecified">xv. 35.</note> where Cicero says, <quote>But why
                                did I introduce so respectable a character?</quote> Or we may use
                            some common phrase, such as, <quote>I didn't mean to say
                                that.</quote>
                        <note anchored="true" place="unspecified"><hi rend="italic">Verr.</hi> IV. xx. 43. </note> Or we may pretend
                            that we are searching for what we should say, as in the phrases,
                                <quote>What else is there?</quote> or <quote>Have I left anything
                                out?</quote> Or we may pretend to discover something suggested by
                            the context, as when Cicero <note anchored="true" place="unspecified"><hi rend="italic">pro Cluent.</hi> lxi. 169. </note> says,
                                <quote>One more charge, too, of this sort still remains for me to
                                deal with,</quote> or <quote>One thing suggests another.</quote>
                     </p></div></div></div></div></body></text></TEI>
                </passage>
            </reply>
            </GetPassage>