Institutio Oratoria
Quintilian
Quintilian. Institutio Oratoria, Volume 1-4. Butler, Harold Edgeworth, translator. Cambridge, Mass; London: Harvard University Press, William Heinemann Ltd., 1920-1922.
Another piece of extravagant pedantry is to insist that the first place should always be occupied by what is first
If the demands of artistic structure permit, it is far best to end the sentence with a verb: for it is in verbs that the real strength of language resides. But if it results in harshness of sound, this principle must give way before the demands of rhythm, as is frequently the case in the best authors of Rome and Greece. Of course, in every case where a verb does not end the sentence, we shall have an hyperbaton, [*](See VIII. vi. 62 sqq.) but hyperbaton is an admitted trope or figure, and therefore is to be regarded as an adornment.
For words are not cut to suit metrical feet, and are therefore transferred from place to place to form the most suitable combinations, just as in the case of unhewn stones their very irregularity is the means of suggesting what other stones they will best fit and what will supply them with the surest resting-place. On the other hand, the happiest effects of language are produced when it is found possible to employ the natural order, apt connexion and appropriate rhythm.
Some transpositions are too long, as I have pointed out in previous books, [*](Only, apparently, in VIII. ii. 14.) while at times they involve faulty structure, although some writers actually aim at this vicious type of transposition, in order to create an appearance of freedom and license, as in the following phrases from Maecenas, sole et aurora rubent plurima ; [*](They grow red in the sunlight and the fullness of dawn. The meaning is uncertain, plurima might be neut. nom. plural. ) inter se sacra movit aqua fraxinos ; [*](The sacred stream ran through the ash-grove.) ne exequias quidem unus inter miserrimos viderem meas. [*](May I never, alone amidst the most miserable of men, behold my own funeral rites.) The worst feature in these examples, is that he plays pranks
not infrequently possible to give special significance to a word by placing it at the close of the sentence and thereby stamping and impressing it on the mind of the hearer, whereas if it were placed in the middle of the sentence, it would remain unnoticed, escape the attention and be obscured by its surroundings; the following passage from Cicero will illustrate what I mean: ut tibi necesse esset in conspectu populi Romani vomere postridie.
[*](Phil. II. xxv. 63. That you were compelled to vomit the next day in the presence of the Roman people. ) Transfer the last word to some other position and the effect will be decreased. For the whole passage is made to converge to a point at the end; the disgraceful circumstance of his being forced to vomit has been mentioned and the audience expect nothing more, when the orator adds yet a further revolting feature of the case, namely that he was still unable to retain his food the day after the carouse.
Domitius Afer was in the habit of transferring words at the cadence of the sentence solely for the purpose of harshening his rhythm, more especially in his exordia, as, for example, in his defence of Cloatilla, where he says gratias again continuo, [*](I will thank you at once.) and in his defence of Laelia, where he says, eis utrisque apud te iudicem periclitatur Laelia. [*]( Owing to both of these circumstances Laelia runs the risk of betng condemned with you for judge. ) To such an extent did he avoid the voluptuous effect of soft and delicate rhythm, that he actually interposed obstacles to break the natural harmonies of his language.
There is a further drawback resulting from the faulty arrangement of words, with which we are all familiar, namely, that it leads to ambiguity. The above remarks will, I think, suffice as a brief summary of the points which require notice in connexion with order. If the order is