Institutio Oratoria

Again, the answer may be of such a kind as to make defence precede confession. For example, in the Eclogues [*](Ecl. iii. 17 and 21. ) of Virgil, when one shepherd asks:

1. Did I not see you, villain, snare a goat
2. Of Damon's?

1. I vanquished him in song, and should he not
2. Pay me the prize, my due?

Akin to this kind of answer is the dissimulatory

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.

A different form of fictitious question is to be found in the pro Caelio.

Some one will say, 'Is this your moral discipline? Is this the training you would give young men?'

Gentlemen, if there were any man with such vigour of mind, with such innate virtue and self-control, etc.

Had you no house? Yes, you had one. Had you money and to spare? No, you were in actual want.

Again, a question may involve comparison, as, for instance,

Which of the two then could more easily assign a reason for his opinion?

However, it forms a genus in itself, and

For I will say without any intention of aggravating the charge.

I beg you to pardon me, if I have been carried too far.

Anticipation may also be employed to establish the meaning or propriety of words, as in the following case,

Although that was not a punishment, but merely a prevention of crime,

Citizens, I say, if I may call them by that name.

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.

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.?

This device may also be employed to cover the past; for we may equally pretend that we had felt hesitation on the subject. This figure is akin to that known as communication,

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?

Or we may admit the judges to our deliberations, a device which is frequently called into play. We may say,

What do you advise?

I ask you,

What, then, should have been done?

Come now, if you had been in his place, what else would you have done?

Imagine this to be a matter which concerns us all, and assume you have been placed in charge of the whole affair.

Sometimes, however, in such forms of communication we may add something unexpected, a device which is in itself a figure, as Cicero does in the Verrines:

What then? What think you? Perhaps you expect to hear of some theft or plunder.

For we may adopt exactly the opposite procedure to that just mentioned, and after raising expectation of a sequel of the most serious nature, we may drop to something which is of a trivial character, and may even imply no offence at all. But since this does not necessarily involve any form of communication, some have given it the name of paradox or surprise.

I do not agree with those who extend the name of figure to a statement that something has happened unexpectedly to the

Gentlemen, I never thought it would come to pass that, when Scaurus was the accused, I should have to entreat you not to allow influence to carry any weight on his behalf.

The figure known as concession springs from practically the same source as communication; it occurs when we leave some things to the judgment of the jury, or even in some cases of our opponents, as when Calvus says to Vatinius,

Summon all your assurance and assert that you have a better claim than Cato to be elected praetor.

The figures best adapted for intensifying emotion consist chiefly in simulation. For we may feign that we are angry, glad, afraid, filled with wonder, grief or indignation, or that we wish something, and so on. Hence we get passages like the following:

I am free, I breathe again,

It is well,

What madness is this?

Alas! for these degenerate days!

Woe is me; for though all my tears are shed my grief still clings to me deep-rooted in my heart,

1. Gape now, wide earth.

Unknown.

and include it among figures of speech. When, however, such exclamations are genuine, they do not come under the head of our present topic: it is only those which are simulated and artfully designed which can with any certainty be regarded as figures. The same is true of free speech, which Corificius [*]( The author of Auct. ad Herennium, iv. 36. ) calls licence, and the Greeks παῤῥησία. For what has less of the figure about it than true freedom? On the other hand, freedom of speech may frequently be made a

For when Cicero in his defence for Ligarius says,

After war had begun, Caesar, and was well on its way to a conclusion, I deliberately, of my own free will and under no compulsion, joined the forces of your opponents,

On the other hand, in the sentence,

What else was our aim, Tubero, than that we might secure the power which he now holds?

By this means we display the inner thoughts of our adversaries as though they were talking with themselves (but we shall only carry conviction if we represent them as uttering what they may reasonably be supposed to have had in their minds); or without sacrifice of credibility we may introduce conversations between ourselves and others, or of others among themselves, and put words of advice, reproach, complaint, praise or pity into the mouths of appropriate persons.

Nay, we are even allowed in this form of speech to bring down the gods from heaven and raise the dead, while cities also and peoples may find a voice. There are some authorities who restrict the term imepersonation to cases where both persons and words are fictitious, and prefer to call imaginary conversations between men by the Greek name of dialogue, which some [*]( Cornific. op. cit. iv. 43 and 52. ) translate

For my own part, I have included both under the same generally accepted term, since we cannot imagine a speech without we also imagine a person to utter it. But when we lend a voice to things to which nature has denied it, we may soften down the figure in the way illustrated by the following passage:

For if my country, which is far dearer to me than life itself, if all Italy, if the whole commonwealth were to address me thus, 'Marcus Tullius, what dost thou?

Your country, Catiline, pleads with you thus, and though she utters never a word, cries to you, 'For not a few years past no crime has come to pass save through your doing!'