<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-eng2:9.4.138-9.4.142</requestUrn>
            </request>
            <reply>
                <urn>urn:cts:latinLit:phi1002.phi001.perseus-eng2:9.4.138-9.4.142</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="4" type="textpart" subtype="section"><div n="138" type="textpart" subtype="section"><p> I would remark that our rhythm must be designed to suit our delivery. Is
                            not our tone subdued as a rule in the <hi rend="italic">exordium,</hi>
                            except of course in cases of accusation where we have to rouse the judge
                            or fill him with indignation, full and clear in the <hi rend="italic">statement of</hi> fact, in argument impetuous and rapid not merely
                            in our language, but in our motions as well, expansive and fluent in <hi rend="italic">commonplaces</hi> and descriptions and, as a rule,
                            submissive and downcast in the <hi rend="italic">peroration?</hi>
                     </p></div><div n="139" type="textpart" subtype="section"><p> But the motions of the body also have their own appropriate rhythms,
                            while the musical theory of rhythm determines the value of metrical feet
                            no less for dancing than for tunes. Again, do we not adapt our voice and
                            gesture to the nature of the themes on which <pb n="v7-9 p.587"/> we are
                            speaking? There is, therefore, all the less reason for wonder that the
                            same is true of the feet employed in prose, since it is natural that
                            what is sublime should have a stately stride, that what is gentle should
                            seem to be led along, that what is violent should seem to run and what
                            is tender to flow. </p></div><div n="140" type="textpart" subtype="section"><p> Consequently, where necessary, we must borrow the pompous effect
                            produced by the <hi rend="italic">spondees</hi> and <hi rend="italic">iambi</hi> which compose the greater portion of the rhythms of
                            tragedy, as in the line, <quote rend="blockquote"><cit><quote><l part="N">En, impero Argis, sceptra mi liquit
                                            Pelops.</l></quote><bibl default="false"> From an unknown tragedian. <note anchored="true" place="unspecified"><quote>Lo, I am lord
                                                at Argos, where to me I Pelops the sceptre
                                                left.</quote></note>
                              </bibl></cit></quote> But the comic senarius, styled <hi rend="italic">trochaic,</hi> contains a number of <hi rend="italic">pyrrhics</hi>
                            and <hi rend="italic">trochees,</hi> which others call <hi rend="italic">tribrachs,</hi> but loses in dignity what it gains in speed, </p></div><div n="141" type="textpart" subtype="section"><p> as for example in the line, <quote rend="blockquote"><cit><quote><l part="N">quid igiturfaciam? non earn, ne nunc
                                            quidem?</l></quote><bibl default="false"><hi rend="italic">Ter. Eun.</hi> I. i. 1.
                                            <note anchored="true" place="unspecified"><quote>What
                                                shall I do then? Not go even now?</quote></note> The
                                            <hi rend="italic">pyrrhic</hi> never forms a separate
                                        foot, but does form part of the <hi rend="italic">anapaest,
                                            tribrach</hi> and <hi rend="italic">dactyl</hi> and it
                                        is in this connexion that it is mentioned by Quintilian.
                                    </bibl></cit></quote> Violent and abusive language, on the other hand, even
                            in verse, as I have said, employs the <hi rend="italic">iambic</hi> for
                            its attack: <hi rend="italic">e.g.,</hi>
                        <quote rend="blockquote"><cit><quote><l part="N">Quis hoc potest videre, quis potest
                                            pati,</l><l part="N">nisi impudicus et vorax et
                                            aleo?</l></quote><bibl default="false"> Cat. xxix. 1. <note anchored="true" place="unspecified"><quote>Who save a lecherous gambling
                                                glutton can endure to gaze on such a sight as
                                                this</quote></note>
                              </bibl></cit></quote> As a general rule, however, </p></div><div n="142" type="textpart" subtype="section"><p> if the choice were forced upon me, I should prefer my rhythm to be harsh
                            and violent rather than nerveless and effeminate, as it is in so many
                            writers, more especially in our own day, when it trips along in wanton
                            measures that suggest the accompaniment of castanets. Nor will any
                            rhythm ever be so admirable that it ought to be <pb n="v7-9 p.589"/>
                            continued with the same recurrence of feet. </p></div></div></div></div></body></text></TEI>
                </passage>
            </reply>
            </GetPassage>