Plutarch: Life of Cicero 0856683612, 9780856683619

Citation preview

CLASSICAL TEXTS

Advisory Editor M. M. WILLCOCK

.

PLUTARCH The Life of ··----------

Cicero .....

with an Introduction,Translation and Commentary by

J. L.MOLES

ARIS & PHILLIPSLTD

© 1. L. Moles 1988. All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced. stored in a retrieval system or transmitted in any form or by any means whether electrical or mechanical without the prior permission of the publishers in writing. CONTENTS

The Greek text edited by Cl. Lindskog / K. Ziegler 1964, is reprinted by kind permission of the publishers: B.G. Teubner. ISBNS

(cloth) (limp)

0 85668 360 4 0 85668 361 2

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS INTRODUCTION 1 Using this book 2 The Pleasures and Virtues of Plutarch 3 The Cicero: Structure and Theme 4 Word Patterns 5 Translation 6 Complexity and Intent 7 The Demosthenes-CiceroPairing 8 The Sources of the Cicero 9 The Cicero: Biography, History, Literature and Truth 10 The Historical Value of the Cicero 11 The Text

BritishLibraryCataloguingin PublicationData

iv

1 4 9 12

16 18

19 26

32 46

S3

To Ronny and Rachel

I

·I I

TEXT AND TRANSLATION

SS

THE COMMENTARY

147

ABBREVIATIONS

203

INDEX

207

I

~

!

Printed and published in England by Aris & Phillips Ltd, Teddington

House, Warminster, Wiltshire

(1

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

1 USING TIIIS BOOK

It is a pleasure to thank John Aris for his patienc~ and tolerance, Adri Phillips for his helpfulness and concern over technical matters, the prop:tors of the Teubner Press Leipzig for permission to reprod~ce Ziegler's text, and colleagues at Bangor and Our.ham for answering grateful to four erous queries of one kind or another. I am. especially num . individuals: Professor Malcolm Willcock for wise ad vice on presen t at·10n, my father for many improvements to th~ translation,. Tony _Woodman for full and frank criticism of the introductton, and Chris Pelhng, who read everythingand made countless valuable comments and suggestions. J.L.M.

Readers of Plutarch's Life of Cicero come in all shapes and sizes: they may be interested in literature, history, or philosophy; they may be Classicists of various hues, Ancient Historians, or complete non-Classicists; they may have no Greek, only a little, or a great deal; they may be students, scholars or general readers; if they are students, they may be studying Plutarch or Cicero or both, in the 6th form, at undergraduate, or post-graduate level; if they are scholars, they may be Plutarchean specialists or Roman historians; if they are non-Classicists, their interest will be in learning about one of the greatest Romans or gaining some sense of the qualities of one of the most popular Classical authors. This book is addressed to all of these. Such wide-ranging provision can be achieved only by certain omissions and compromises, some of which may raise traditionalist eyebrows. In order to save space and allow first-time readers of Plutarch to concentrate upon the text without distraction, the introductory discussions and the commentary dispense entirely with conventional features of scholarly presentation such as footnotes, secondary references and explicit citation of, or disagreement with, other scholars. Except for sections 2 and 7 of the introduction, all discussions restrict themselves to the Cicero; in the commentary references to other wor~ are confined to those which contribute directly to the interpretation of the text (notably parallels from the paired Life of Demosthenes), or which illuminate Plute.rch's use of sources. Obviously this restriction of focus has disadvantages (the most serious being the failure to discuss how Plutarch's handling of a given incident or character varies from Life to Life, which is simply too large a topic) but these should be outweighed by the advantages. Moreover, much of the material has in fact wide implications: sections 3-6 outline a method of approach which can fruitfully be applied to practically all ancient literature, section 8 should serve as a general introduction to source criticism, section 9 bears on the question of the whole nature of Classical historiography. Finally, those who wish to explore Plutarch in greater breadth or depth can follow up the bibliographies appended to each discussion in the introduction; within these bibliographies asterisks mark items suitable for the general reader. The interests of first-time and Greek-less readers also require that the discussions assume no prior knowledge, that within the commentary all comments are directed towards the translation unless comment on the

!eek

is absolutely necessary. and that everything that might be unfamiliar is properly explained. Nevertheless, I have tried throughout to bring the reader step by step to the very centre of th~ subjec!• even into areas of great controversy: if things are controverStal, it 1s because they are interesting and important. Despite the stripped-down presentation, therefore the material should interest scholars as well as other readers. The tr~ation is similarly intended to be multifunctional: to convey to English readers the essential quality of a Classical text, to Classical students the literal meaning of the Greek, and to Classical scholars the correct interpretation of problematical passages-(see section 5). The fact that this book is written for different readers at different levels and with different interests naturally affects its use. Scholars will cheerfully skip material that seems to them elementary. First-time readers and students will need, and should have the self-confidence, to be selective in their use of both introduction and commentary. The discussions in the introduction mount a cumulative and progressive argument, which may be worth spelling out here. Section 2 provides a very general introduction to Plutarch's writings, but includes some detailed references to the Cicero for later consideration. Section 3 offers a preliminary view of the shape and content of the work but also outlines some essential qualities of the best Classical literature: structural coherence, extensive use of repeated patterns and ring compositions, complexity, challenge to the reader, unity of form and content, and organic unity. Section 4 develops the theme of the Cicero's complexity by analysing the various functions of word patterns in the work. This leads inevitably to the problem of the translation of ancient texts and justification of the present translation. It will already be clear that large claims are being made for the Cicero's complexity, hence section 6 confronts a standard objection to such claims, an objection which must be met if the claims are to be sustained. Section 7, on the Demosthenes-Ciceropaiting, reverts to detailed textual analysis; questions of formal and organic unity, the function of recurrent themes and patterns, complexity, and the reader's role are again prominent. So far discussion has largely centred on the Cicero as literature; the last three discussions treat different facets of the Cicero as history: first sources (the work's raw material), then the problem of the Cicero's real nature (history, biography, or literature? If concerned with truth, truth in what sense?), finally the Cicero•shistorical value, a question which can be addressed properly only after the sources and nature of the work have been established. . But ~ce some of this material is necessarily complex, the very last thing first-time readers and students sheold do is to read the introduction

[3 from start .to finish. The correct procedure will vary according to individual need. ·Those who come absolutely fresh to Plutarch should begin with section 2. They will~then start to read the text with the aid of the commentary. They may choose to read the text all the way through or they may find early on tlfat the commentary raises interpretative issues which they would like to reflect on: if, for example, verbal patterning in ancient literature is new to them, they should read section 4 before proceeding any further in the text. Others may be interested in Cicero from a historical point of view: for them section 10 is the right place to begin. The discussions have been written so as to make sense both when rend in sequence and separately. Even within the introductory discussions selectivity is the key to deriving maximum benefit with a: minimum :of pain. Those who wish to understand the general mechanics of source criticism will find the first part of sectian 8 useful; tho:ie who wish to get an overview of Plutarch's soures can turn to the end. In section 7 on the Demosthenes-Ciceropairing, the start of the discussion gives t1le general principles, the end the general conclusions: the intricate analysis of the middle should be reserved until the reader has familiarised himself with the Cicero and wants to see how the process of comparison affects the narrative in detail. Only a reader ~ho wants to consider all aspects of the Cicero and arrive at a final interpretation of the work should read the introduction from start to finish, and then anly after working through the text and commentary. Some readers may decide, perfectly properly, that some parts of the introduction are irrelvant to: their particular needs. First-time readers and students should use the commentary in a similar way to the intre>duction. The summaries at the start of each section of the text provide a general guide. Those in italics give the broad thrust of the ~arrative, those in ordinary letters the factual content. Some notes, and some parts of some notes, are more important than others, and many references do not require to be followed up immediately, if at all. In the first instance readers should give literary and thematic notes priority over the merely factual (thus the notes on 1.5-6 are more significant than the note on 1.3). What matters when reading the note on 'they say' (1.1) is to grasp ~e basic point that sech phrases can covar material whose historicity the writer endorses, material whose historicity he rejects and material which he records without prejudice either way; the full list of· references is ~or det~iled study (some readers will find the list helpful, others may ignore 1t). Generally speaking, the notes begin with interpretation of the text and only consider its historical truth at the end: the note at 3.6 on fearing Sulla· ... story is typical. Material of specittlist interest (such as

[S

4)

comments on the Greek, detailed textual or historical points, extended quotations of sources for the benefit of readers who wish to analyse PI tarch's reworking of sources for themselves, tacit disagreement with o~er scholars' views) is enclosed within square brackets. For the sake of brevity the commentary also· employs the symbols ) and ( to indicate close verbal~ thematic relationships between different passages; ) means 'looks forward to• { means'leoks back to'. For example, in the note on 1. 1-2, 'noble ... )3.S' meansthat the words 'noble' and 'brilliant' recur at 3.S and that the two passagesare related. First-titne readera should therefore ignore ) signs: they facilitate subsequent study, not understanding of the immediate context at a first reading. In general, the extensive cross-referencing should make it relatively easy to find one's way around the comi:nentary. Finally, books such as this should stimulate as well as inform. All readers, whatever their interests or attainments, are invited to approach all arguments with an open and critical mind and to exercise their own judgement. Throughout the book I have tried to build up arguments, and to mark the separate steps in those arguments, clearly and precisely, so that the reasoning underlying the conclusions reached may be plain and readers may have the opportunity to dissent as well as assent.

brilliant

Abbreviations used in the rest of the introduction and. in the commentary are listed separately on pp. 203-208. 2 1lfE PLEASURES AND VIRTUES OF PLOT.ARCH

From his own times, when his literary eminence won the recognition of emperers, through the Middle Ages, when he was hailed as the embodiment of Oassical culture, to Elizabethan England, when Shakespeare plagiarised him shamelessly, until today, when he still sells well in Penguins, Plutarch has always had many readers. ·What are the source£of his appeal? It is partly a matter of period. His times (c. A.D. 45-120) were among the most colourful and turbulent in Roman history, when tyrants rose and fell, the empire nearly collapsed in civil war, and peace, stability and relatively humane government were only restored in Plutarch's old age: grand themes to which many of his works give powerful expression. It is also a matter of cultural significance. Plutarch's life coincided with, and he himself made an enormous contribution to, the remarkable cultural renaissanre of Greece in the first century A.D. after a long period

of stagnation and decline. Then again, there is Plutarch's position between two great cultures. Devoted to Greek literature and learning, himself the greatest Greek writer of the post-Classical era, he was never proficient in Latin, yet travelled to Rome and Italy several times, had influential Roman friends, became a Roman citizen, and wrote many of his best works about Romans and Roman civilisation. There is too the sense of a life of tremendous fulness, encompassing all the various types of life that are open to human beings and so rarely reconciled in one person. Plutarch was an intellectual, a writer, a ·teacher, a philosopher; he was a religious thinker, a priest at the oracle of Delphi, and something of a mystic; he took an active part in public life, on embassies to Rome and elsewhere in his youth and, increasingly, as he grew older, in civic duties in his birthplace, the small town of Chaeronea in Boeotia; he had a rich and satisfying family life. Most important of all, of course, are his writings, with their many and varied qualities: (1) Sheer quantity. The 26 volumes of the Loeb edition represent about half his actual production. (2) Diversity. The writings fall into two categories: (a) the so-called Moralia ('Moral Pieces'), a term applied to everything except the Lives. These cover a vast range, both of theme: philosophy of various types (popular moral philosophy, serious moral philosophy, technical philosophy, including interpretations of Plato and polemics against rival philosophical schools, theology}, scientific questions, politics, rhetoric, antiquarianism, literary matters - and of form: 'diatribes' (short, vigorous, moral sermons), extended essays, dialogues both in the elaborate Platonic tradition and informal 'table-talk' style. (b} The Lives. These fall into (i) the Lives of the Caesars - a series of biographies of Roman emperors from Augustus to Vitelliu~, of which only the Galba and Otho survive. (ii) two separate Lives,· Artaxerxes and Aratus; (iii) the Parallel Lives - a series of biographies of famous Greek and Roman politicians, statesmen and generals, divided into pairs, each consisting of a Greek and Roman Life (hence their· title). Though the avowed purpose of all the Lives is the portrayal of character for moral edification (section 9), there is in fact considerable variety of type: the attention devoted to moral biography (along with such things as personal detail and memorable sayings}, political biography, political and military history may vary greatly from Life to Ltfe and indeed from context to context within individual Lives. Sometimes this variation is due simply to what sources were available to Plutarch, sometimes to genuine artistic considerations. Except for the Lives of the Caesars, the great majority of Plutarch's

[7 and unattractive moralism (cf. e.g. Cic. 49.2-4n), but it can be tempered by humour. by humane recognition of human frailty. and by imaginative sympathy for suffering, even when that suffering is to some extent deserved (for the last combination cf. e.g. Ctc. 29.2-32.7; 41.1, 47.1-48.6, 47.8nn). (10) The warmth and humanity of Plutarch's own personality. In liteury criticism the attempt to extract a writer's personality from his writings is often a dangerous, .and sometimes an irrelevant, proceeding. Nevertheless, most readers have sensed these qualities in Plutarch's writings (with some obvious exceptions, like the philosophical polmuics), and they certainly are an important part of the appeal of such works as the Praecepta coniugalia ('Precepts of Marriage'), which Plutarch addressed to a young recently married couple, and the Consolatio ad uxorem ('Consolation to his wife'), which he addressed to his wife on the death of These qualities seem also to underly the moral their infant daughter. attitudes of much of his writing (cf. (9) above). (11) Also widely recognised is Plutarch's charm (a quality highly esteemed by Plutarch himself: cf. e.g. Cic. 7.6, 13.2, 24.3). This is a difficult quality to define, but is revealed in such things as his desire to present his tnoral exhortations in a pleasurable form, a general reluctance to pass hard moral judgments, leisureliness and expansiveness of exposition, interest in the quirky and picturesque, willingness to digress, to explore practically any topics for their intrinsic interest as and when they arise. (The Cicero is in fact less 'charming' than many of Plutarch's works.) (12) Much less widely recognised nowadays, but also important, is the intellectual toughness that Plutarch frequently displays. This takes several forms: razor-sharp dissection of philosophical argument (as in the philosophical polemics), penetrating and unsentimental analysis of character and motivation, which can coeJdst with imaginative sympathy (d. (9) above),' the ability to perceive, and to create, parallels and contrasts, and to investigate their interrelationships (see in particular sections 3, 4 and 7). These, then, are some of the qualities which explain Plutarch's great popularity over the ages. Do they make him a great writer? To be the greatest Greek writer of the post-Classical era is not necessarily to be great by any standard, and some of the qualities for which Plutarch is most .. admired - his warmth, humanity and charm - are often regarded (whether rightly or wrongly) as incompatible with true greatness. Yet in some of his works at least Plutarch is truly great, and one of the alms of the rest of the introduction is to demonstrate that this description rightly applies to the Cicero.

6] works were written after the death of the emperor Domitian in A.D. 96 {the Demosthenes-Cicero,the fifth pair in the Parallel Uves. dates from c. t0S-110) and Plutarch was evidently still writing up to his own death. Considering their number. the speed with w?ich . they were written, Plutarch's age, and the general fulness of his life, 1t is no wonder that numerous small imperfections of one kind or another can be found throughout bis works (cf. sections 3 and 10): the real wonder is that in such circumstances Plutarch wrote so much and that his works generally are of such high quality. (3) Style. Plutarch's prose style has many virtues (not all of which can be illustrated in translation): (a) generalrichness of vocabulary and diction; (b) a tendency towards elaborate and complex syntax (cf. e.g. Cic. 4.4n); (c) great flexibility and range: from the rich, to the elaborate and complex, the dense and abstract (cf. e.g. Cic. 13.1, 20.7, 32.7 and nn), the stark and Hemingwayesque (cf. e.g. Cic. 22.1, 3), the psychological (when the language collapses the distinction between the objective - what the writer says - and the subjeative - what his character feels [cf. e.g. Cic. 47.4-lOn]); (d) imaginative and pregnant use of imagery (cf. e.g. Cic. 6.4, 10.Snn); (e) intricate verbal patterning (see p. 12). (4) Richness and density of literary allusion, based on a deep knowledge of the great writers of the past (see section 4). (5) A talent for visual description (cf. e.g. Cic. 22.2--6, 48.4). (6) Considerable narrative flair, including such virtues as an eye for telling detail, the abilities to create and sustain suspense, to vary pace and mood, to capture the dramatic moment, and to suggest parallels and contrasts between different episodes (cf. e.g. Cic. 22.2--6, 47.1-48.6, and the whole of the Catiline narrative [10.1-23.6]). (7) Great powers of character portrayal. Plutarch's memorable portraits, especially those of the great men of fifth and fourth eantury Athens and late Republican Rome, have hugely influenced our conceptions of what these men were really like. His poitrait of Cicero ia in many ways an excellent one (see section 10). (8) Historieal value. The historical value of Plutarch's historical works is uneven, but can be considerable, as in the case of the Cicero (see sections 9 and 10). (9) Pervasive moral seriousness, often involving more or less direct moral exhortation. It is true that this can issue in what seems to ua crude

r

(9 8)

Bibliography R. Volkmann, Leben, Schrtften und Philosophie des Plutarch von Chalroneia (Berlin 1869) •J. Oakesmith, The Religion of Plutarch (London 1902) . R.M. Jones, The Platonism of Plutarch. (Menasha, Wisconsm 1916)__. K. Ziegler, 'Plutarchos von Chaironeia', Paulys Real-Encyclopadie der classischen Altertumswissenschaft 21 (1951) 636-92 (separately published Stuttgart 1949; revised 1964) . F. Fuhrmann, Les images de Plutarque (Paris 1964) •A. Lesky A History of Greek Uterature (London 1966), 819-25 c.P. Jon~. 'Towards a Chronology of Plutarch's Works', Journal of Roman Studies 56 (1966), 66-74 •Id., Plutarch and Rome (Oxford 1971) •D.A. Russell, 'On reading Plutarch's Lives', Greece and Rome 13 (1966), 139-54 •Id., 'Plutarch', Oxford Classical Dictionary (2nd ed. 1970), 848-50 *Id., Plutarch (London 1973) *Id., 'Plutarch', in The Oxford History of the Classical World (edited by J. Boardman, J. Griffin and 0. Murray, Oxford 1986),

667-70

•R.H. Barrow, Plutarch and His Times (London 1967) D. Babut, Plutarque et le stoicisme (Paris 1969) B. Bucher-Isler, Norm und Individualitiit in den Biographien Plutarchs (Bern 1972) *A. Wardman, Plutarch's Uves (London 1974) F.E. Brenk, In Mist Apparelled (Leiden 1977) Y. Verniere, Symboles et mythes dans la pensee de Plutarque (Paris 1977) C.B.R. Pelling, 'Plutarch's method of work in the Roman Lives', Journal of Hellenic Studies 99 (1979), 74-96 *Id., 'Plutarch's Adaptation of his Source Material', Journal of Hellenic Studies (1980), 135-39 *Id., 'Plutarch: Roman Heroes and Greek Culture', in Philosophia Togata (edited by J. Barnes and M.T. Griffin, Oxford 1989) *E.L. Bowie in Ancient Greek Uterature (edited by K.J. Dover, Oxford 1980), 162-64. J. Geiger, 'Plutarch's Parallel Lives: the Choice of Heroes', Hermes 109 (1981), 85-104 *G. Bowersock,'Plutarch', in The Cambridge History of Classical Uterature I (Cambridge 1985), 665-69.

3 THE CICERO: STRUCTURE AND THEME

While the narratives of the Lives are, naturally enough, mainly chronological, they are shaped by thematic rather than chronological considerations, i.e. Plutarch does not (on the whole) merely record the sequence of events as they happened; rather, he chooses to record a particular sequence of events because it illustrates particular themes. On a simple thematic analysis this Life has clearly defined sections: introduction - Cicero's family background and name (eh. 1); present-day intellectual reputation (eh. 2); fluctuating political advance; tension between political and intellectual lives (chs. 3-6); sustained political advance (chs. 7-9); consulship, triumphant handling of Catalinarian conspiracy, unprecedented honours (chs. 10-23); loss of popularity due to boasting and cutting wit (chs. 24-27); struggle against Clodius - exile and triumphant return (chs. 28-33); contrasting political weaknesses (chs. 34-35); Indian summer before civil wars (eh. 36); initial irresolution, impetuosity in joining Pompey, eventual reconciliation with Caesar (chs. 37-39); withdrawal from political life under Caesar's monarchy (eh. 40); tragedy and downfall through a combination of circumstances and personal and political misjudgements (chs. 41-48); epilogue (eh. 49). These sections can be regarded as falling into six main episodes. The first traces Cicero's advance towards the consulship, with his strengths and weaknesses both on display but the former more prominent (chs. 1-9). The second, the narrative of the consulship, shows Cicero at his best (chs. 10-23), though with his weaknesses not entirely suppressed (19.5-7, 21.2-3nn). The third, the discussion of Cicero's boastfulness and hurtful wit, provides a general explanation for his political decline after his consulship (chs. 24-27). The fourth treats Cicero's chequered fortunes up to his governorship of Cilicia, Cicero ending this phase of his career in excellent style after serious errors and misjudgements, both political and moral (chs. 28-36). The fifth, concerning his relations with Pompey and Caesar in the civil war, is marked by still more dubious decisions and behaviour, such success as Cicero attains owing little to his own efforts, and leaves him having difficulty in maintaining his policy of withdrawal from politics (chs. 37-40). The sixth, the narrative of his fluctuating struggles with Antony and Octavian, analyses the steps by which he comes to largely self-inflicted disaster (chs. 41-48). Of course even on a simple level other analyses would be possible, but it is already clear that the Cicero is well shaped and organised, with almost no structural defects (for

10) partial exceptions see 7.3, 8.3, 24.1-27.6, 31.2, 38.2-Snn; there are also some infelicities of detail, which are at least partly to be explained by speed of composition: cf. 6.2, 19.3, 21.4, 26.2, 36.1, 38.7, 41.2, 43.3, 46.2nn). Moreover, there is very little of the intrusive material which is so matked a feature of some of the other Uves. Such an analysis, however, leaves out of account several important factors, all of which contribute to structural unity. Fust, there is the sheer insistence with which the main themes are explored throughout the narrative. Cicero's ambition, for example, foreshadowed in the introduction (1.5), is the driving force behind his early career (1.5n), first reveals itself as an unbalanced, even a potentially disastrous, trait on his return from Sicily (6.4-5), is directed towards good ends in the struggle with Catiline, though still a strong influence upon the most difficult of his decisions (19.S-7n), but then underlies both the boasting and cruel wit which loses him popularity, thereby weakening his position in the struggle against Oodius (25.1, 28.1), and his incorrect response to the blow of exile (32. 7n), resurfaces in his dubious decision to join Pompey in the civil war (37.4) and, still more reprehensibly, in his flattery of the victorious Caesar (40.3-4), and finally impels him to his disastrous policy of fast supporting, and then capitulating to, Octavian (45.1, 6). Second, there is the ol:Mous fact that most of the main themes are interconnected. Cicero's ambition (1.5n), the question how far he succeeds as a philosopher in action (3. ln), the perpetual struggle between passion and reason (5.5n), Cicero the orator, the choice between the life of intellectual withdrawal and that of politics (3.3n) - all these themes over~p: a. philosop~er should not succumb to ambition (32.5-7), excessive ~bttion IS a passton (6.5), the true orator is a philosopher (13.1), the p~osopher sh~uld sometimes participate in political life, sometimes withdra~ from _it (3?n), etc. Again, the final tragedy is introduced by a formu!&tton which umtes several threads, all interwoven in the subsequent ~ativ~ (41.1_ 'he was overtaken by many public and many private difficulties, which he had not willed, and many disasters, most of which seem to _have happen~ to ~ through his own choice'). Thir~, the v:mous ep~es are interrelated not just through the all-pervasive and mterconnectmg main themes but by repeated patterns, often keyed by word patterns (section 4), which invite the reader to make connexions and comparisons. For example, the struggle with Clodius is causa~y linked. to Cicero's loss of popularity due to his boastful and offensive behaviour (28.1), Oodius himself is reminiscent of Catiline (28 1 29.4) and foreshadows Octavian (28.1), the Bona Dea rites form a furthe;

(11

\ i I

parallel between the struggles against Catlline and l..1odius (28.2), Terentia has a major influence on Cicero at critical moments of decision in both (29.4), Cicero's position against Clodius is transformed step by step into the reverse of his position against Catiline (29.6n), he is deceived by Clodius' apparent moderation, as he will later be by Antony's and Octavian's (30.4), he faces a stark choice, as earlier at the height of the Catalinarian conspiracy and later in his exile and in the civil war between Pompey and Caesar (31.2, 37.2-3nn), he finds himself in the same plight as Roscius (31.4n and p. 15), etc. Fourth, extensive use of ring composition (section 4) promotes a considerable sense of formal unity. The Life begins and ends with Cicero's family (1.1-6/49.6), Cicero's. name survives in honour, Antony's is abolished (1.5-6, 49.6), the glory of Cicero as man of letters endures (2.5/49.5, 48.6), the generally successful part of Cicero's career is framed by his governorships of Sicily and Cilicia (6. 1-2/36.1-6), his consulship by his successes in winning popular favour against tribunician obstruction (9.4-7/23.2 and p. 13). Numerous sections are marked off by rings. The Clodius episode exhibits a particularly elaborate ring system (see nn on 28. 1-31.6). Indeed, if from one point of view an ancient work of literature is like a kaleidoscope (section 4), from another it is like an onion, consisting as it characteristically does of a complex series of rings within rings. The structures created by these repeated patterns and ring compositions are of course not merely formal: they clarify the organisation of the narrative, articulate thematic concerns, suggest parallels and contrasts and stimulate the reader's participation in the interpretation of the text (section 4). . Fifth, the Life of Cicero cannot be considered separately from the Li[e of Demosthenes: the Demosthenes-Cicero pair itself forms a complex umty - an almost bewilderingly intricate tapestry of contrasting and recurrent patterns (section 7). .. What, then, is the ~ife abo~t? Cicero of course, but 'contrary to the op~1on of some, a plot 1s not unified merely because it is about one man' (Ar•~· Poe. 1451a 16-17). Ther~ are several major themes, all of which are mterconnected (above). To pick out any one as the Ufe's main theme w~uld be an. arbit~8!Y'oversimplification. The1Life is about the role of the ph1lo5?pher ~ ~oht1cs but not only in politics; about the role of the orator, ~o~e~~ distmct fro~ that of the philosopher, sometimes (ideally) 1?d1stmgu1shablefrom 1t; about the tensions between private and public hves and be!ween intellectu~l and political activity; about the struggle between passion and reason m both politics and personal life. about the degree to which ambition is a legitimate spur to political activify; about the

(13 12) need for humanity in government and in war; about the ideal and the actual (cf. section 9). The real theme of the Cicero, as of many ancient literary works, is nothing less than 'how should one live a good life?' Thus from many points of view the Life of Cicero ls excellently structured and in it~ as in all the best ancient literature, structure and meaning are indissoluble.

Bibliography *D. Magnino, Plutarchi: Vita Ciceronis (Firenze 1963), xvii-xviii *R. Flaceliere and E. Chambry, Plutarque: Vies XII (Paris 1976), 52-56. 4 WORD PATI'ERNS

Those who read even the greatest works of Classical literature in translation often tmd them simple and rather stark, whereas scholars who study them in the original find them endlessly complex, despite the fact that by modern standards ancient works are generally quite brief (Plutarch's Cicero covers only 57 pages of Teubner text). This complexity does not derive from the richness of ancient vocabulary (for again by modern standards the vocabularies of Latin and even Greek are very restricted), but from things not easily conveyed in translation: variation of stylistic level (which characteristically plays a far more important role than in modern works), literary allusion (which can deftly suggest whole new layers of meaning, cf. e.g. Cic. 2.3; 32.5, 7; 41.1, 4S.lnn), and, above all, word patterns. Any text in any language consists of words, the choice and arrangement of which produce meaning, but in Classical literature precise v_erbal patterns are the single most important device by which apparently sunple and straightforward meanings acquire complexity. A Classical text is like a kaleidoscope. Its range of colours - its basic vocabulary - is small, but the ceaseless variation of these colours, as the writer manipulates them, creates ever more intricate patterns. Moreover, these patterns are not explicitly signposted. The writer does not say to the reader: this is one pattern, here is another, observe how they are related. It is up to the reader to detect the patterns and ponder the .relationships.

And the meanings that are implied by these patterns are gene~ally mo~e interesting and more significant than those which are stated outright. ~1s is the main reason why Classical literature at its best, so far from bemg simple and rather stark, is in fact tight, ~~nse, econorni~l, ~nd imm~nsel_y demanding of its readers. If, as Class1c1sts stoutly mamtam, Classics IS good for the brain, it is primarily be~use the Classical _languages and Classical literature alike are superb vehicles for the teaching of pattern recognition, which of all mental skills is the most indispensable and widely transferable. In the Life of Cicero word patterns fulfil several different functions. First, they pinpoint essential narrative structures. One such is ring construction (cf. also section 3), a device used very extensively by Plutarch, as by most ancient writers, whereby a motif used at the start of a section is repeated at the end, characteristically with close verbal echoes. Thus in the sentence 'They say that Cicero was born without pain or struggle when his mother gave birth to him on the third day of the new Calends, on which the magistrates in the present day pray and sacrifice on behalf of the emperor' (2.1) the phrase 'in the present day' is picked up by 'to the present day' in the sentence 'His reputation for oratory, however, remains safe to the present day' (2.5). Again, Cicero's first teacher in his mature studies, Philo, is 'admired for his eloquence' (3.1). Then, after his successful defence of Roscius, Cicero is himself 'admired' (3.6). Again, Cicero begins by not 'approving' the philosophical innovations of Antiochus (4.1), subsequently he seeks 'approved' rhetoricians (4.4), tmally he himself wins 'approval' from the most 'approved' rhetorician of them all (4. 7). These are simple cases, but such verbal repetitions can also point ring structures enclosing material of considerable size. 9.4-7 tells a story about what happened to Cicero as praetor 'when he had still two or three days of his magistracy left' (9.4): because of tribunician activity he suffered an initial failure with the people but then recovered their goodwill, so that they _supported his election to the consulship. 23.2-4 tells what happened to Cicero as consul when 'he was still in office a few days more' (23.2): after initial difficulty because of tribunician activity he received the people's whole-hearted endorsement. Ring compositions keyed by word patterns are thus extremely important in the structuring of the narrative (though it is fair to add that they are sometimes an artificial device to pull together material which is not properly unified [cf. 28.ln]). . Second, word patterns may help to bring out the main theme of a particular stretch of narrative. While 2. 1-5 forms part of the continuous narrative of Cicero's intellectual development from birth the repetition of the phrase 'the present day' marks it also as a separate ~ction providing a

14) brief critique of Cicero's whole intellectual achievement from a present-day perspective. Similarly, the repeated 'admired' of 3.1 and 3.6 indicates that the theme here is Cicero's quest for 'admiration' as an orator and his success in achieving it, and the repeated 'approved' of 4.1, 4.4 and 4. 7 that the theme is Cicero's search for 'approved' teachers, and once he finds them, his success in winning their 'approval'. Again, through the verbal link between 9.4 and 23.2, the reader sees Cicero with the people just before, and just at the end of, his consulship, and on both occasions triumphing over difficulties created by rivals and winning popular approval. Toe ring structure also helps to point a contrast between the sequels to each of these incidents: after the first Cicero goes on to further triumphs, but after the second he rapidly loses his popular support, and this is a key reason why he is soon forced into exile (24.1-2, 28.1, 30.2). Again, the young Cicero•s· ambition is to 'demonstrate the name Cicero to be more famous than names like Scaurus and Catulus' (1.5); already at school he 'demonstrates' the truth of portents of his future greatness and gets 'a name and fame' (2.2): the repetitions of the ideas 'demonatrate' and 'famous name' (the latter made sharper by the shift in meaning from 'name' in the neutral sense of 'what someone is· called' to 'name' in the stronger sense of 'reputation') show that he has already achieved his ambition at school level. But on his return from Sicily Cicero learns that his 'name and fame' have been swallowed up in the maelstrom of Roman politics (6.3-4): thus the 'name and fame'-motif marks one phase of Cicero's ascent to glory and one of the reverses he suffers on the way. Again, in the portrait of Len!'1lus the insistent repetition of the word 'corrupt' (17. ln) stamps this section as above all a study of moral corruption. . . Third, word patterns may suggest parallels between people and mcidents. Among Cicero's great political adversaries the Marians, Sulla, Lentulus, Caesar and Antony are all emphatically characterised as :monarchs: (3.3?):_ t!1e reader sees Cicero's various struggles against monarchs and IS invited to compare one with another. A more detailed parallel: ~e 'mo~ch' Sulla 'was angry at being accused' (3.5); later the monar~ Antony was angry at the accusation' (43.7): the reader senses ~t history is repeating itself and must reflect on the parallels and diff~en::e5 between the two si~tions. So too, after their initial fright at Cati11?es electoral reverse Cattlme and the other conspirators 'again began to gam confidence and gathered themselves together' (14.1), phraseology repeated of Lentulus' rallying of Catiline's supporters after Catiline's own dep~~: 'he gathered them together and gave them confidence' (17.1): the Catilme threat comes in waves, successes and reverses alternating the 'new wave' led by Lentulus, a man like Catiline in some respects, unlike in

(1S others (17.5n). Similarly the parallel between two of Cicero's ?1ost difficult political decisions - whether or not to execute the ~a!3linarians, whether to join Pompey or Caesar - is keyed by the repet1t1on of the words 'he was completely at a loss' (20.1, 37.3). Fourth verbal repetitions often point differences rather than parallels as apparen; illogicalities challenge !11e r:eader . to think. ~ough their implications. So after his successes m the provmce of Sicily, where he defended the young Roman nobles 'with di~inction', it ~s. po~ted~y indicative of Cicero's utter failure to make an impact on pohttcal life m Rome itself that the friend who knows nothing about these Sicilian successes is a 'distinguished' man (6.2-3). The effect is all the greater after the sections on Cicero's oratorical achievements (chs. 3 and 4), where the repetitions 'adm,ired/admired' and 'approved/approve' point success, because the reader's expectations are jolted when a similar verbal repetition indicates failure. Again, the false prophets urge Lentulus, corrupter and corrupted, not to 'corrupt' his opportunities (17.5): this surprising twist in the use of the word neatly conveys that Lentulus and his cronies are so utterly corrupt that they can no longer even recognise corruption. Again, both Cicero and Antony are 'elated' after seeming political triumphs, but there is actually a world of difference between the situation and political acumen of each (43.1, 46.ln). Fifth, verbal repetitions can suggest parallels that are genuine but unexpected, their unexpectedness again serving to jolt the reader into thought. The Catalinarian revolutionaries suppose that 'there is no power capable of making a stand against them in Rome' (10.2) :md are suitably confounded when Cicero 'takes a stand' against them (12.5). But then it is Caesar who 'takes a stand' in the senatorial debate about the Catalinarians' punishment (2L5): in this instance the behaviour of the ambitious, unscrupulous, 'monarchical' Caesar seems surprisingly admirable and Cicero's less so. Sixth, word patterns can also mark reversals of situation. Cicero first becomes famous as an orator when he alone braves Sulla's wrath and defends Roscius, who 'through sheer isolation' had 'fled for refuge to him' (~.5); lat~r, as a last resort in his appeals for support against Clodius, Cicero himself 'utterly isolated, fled for refuge' to the consuls {31.4). Several thoughts come to mind: Cicero alone defended Roscius now he is alone again, but as a defendant as desperate as Roscius was· his' decision to defend Roscius was heroic, but no one now will run the sa~e risk for him. Or in the Pompeian camp Cicero scoffs at a man of 'moderate and temperate character' and indulges in racial sneers against a Greek {38.3-4): the contrasts with his own past, when he himself was abused as a 'Greek'

16] (5.2), and his own better character, one of 'moderation' (9.6) and 'temperance' (8.4), suggests a sad falling-off. Again, the plot against Julius Caesar is described as 'the undertaking that was being organised against Caesar'. the murder itself as a 'deed undertaken', but then 'Caesar's friends were organising·against the men' (42.1, 3): once the doed was done the assassins lost the initiative and the tables were completely turned. All these exan1ples concern the Ufe of Cicero as a self-contained unit. There are of course too ~many word patterns linking the Demosthenes-Cicero as a unified pair (cf. section 7 and e.g. 32.Sn). The examples have also been more or less straightforward: there are many more complex ones, which are indicated in the comntentary. Nevertheless, enough has been said to suggest some conclusions. Word patterns are oet mero decoration. They point struettu-e and theme. They suggest parallels and contrasts, sameness and difference or reversal: these categories are basic :te the thought patterna of Classical authors and to the ways in which they organise their material. If the reader does not perceive these1woid patterns, or if, he.ving perceived them, he refuses to accord them any significance, he will inevitably miss -much, indeed most, of what is important in an anci1anttext. Nor with a text such as the Ufe of Cicero are modem historians excused the interpretative task: word patterns can articulate detailed historical analysis (cf. e.g. 45. ln). This does not mean that reading an ancient text is a purely intellectual process, or that Classical literature lacks the power to arouse emotion, or that Qassical writers are uninterested in securing this effect: intellectual perceptioa· is often a precondition of the correct emotional response (for example, the reader has to perceive the Cicero-Roscius parallel and contrast if he is to feel the right degrco of moral outrage at Cicero's plight), and Oassical literature is at its most powerful when emotional arousal is tempered by intellectual rigour (cf. e..g. 41.ln). 5 TRANSLATION

From the argument of section 4 it follows that if a translation is to convey _the essential quality of a Oassical text, it IBDst reproduce as many as .IJOSl:•bleof that text's word patterns. Very few translations do this, which is ~y. however feheitous thsir English style: may appear, they are fo?~d so simple (and, often, so dull) by readers without knowledge of the original language. By contrast, the present transiation it t11lesto use a ~ vocabulary. so that as far as possible the same English word or expression or a recognisable variant of it does duty for the samE:Greek

(17

word or expression throughout. Consequently, the broader verbal patterns have been given precedence over the exact implications of a particular context. Thus in 30.2 ('by humane laws Clodius made the people his own'), while it might be better in context to translate J?hilanthrop?is _by 'generous' (with appropriately demagogic undertont:5),_ this would . d1sgu~se the 1core important general point that the association of Clod1us with philanthropia ('humanity') challenges the reader's expectations and contributes to the notion that Clodius gets the better of Cicero, the mro1 of true 'humanity' (6.1, 9.6nn), by turning his own attributes against him. The translation also ahos to be of real help to those reading the Greek. It is extremely literal, so that any student. who consults a dictionary and compiles a wor.d list should be able to see how the Greek actually works. (Direct commentary on the Greek has been necessary in a few instances.) Wherever possible, words are translated into their root meanings (thus for example 'throw out', instead of a more elegant 'refer', for ekbalein in 9.6 or 'strongly maintained' for ischurizomenou in 29.1). Students are frequently overwhelmed by the vast number of different 'meanings' Greek words seem to possess. But in fact most words have only one meaning and all other 'meanings' are simply different aspects of that basic meiming. Grasping this truth avoids much unnecessary labour. The translation may sometimes seem scrappy as well as inelegant: this is deliberate - Plutarch smm~times writes scrapplly (fer enample at 8.3) and a translation should not seek to smooth this away. Nor should it iron out difficulties: if th,~ translation of 20. 7 seems difficult, that is an accorate reflection of the Greek. Readers will also note the use of Greek terminology (e.g. 'drachmas' at 3.4). This also reflects Plutarch's own general practice (1.4n): Romanisation would give a false impression. On the other hand, the flavour of the translation should not be too alien to EngliMl readers, hence the Greek agora is rendered as 'forum' and proper names ate given ih Roman form unless the Greek fonn may itself be significant, as in 1.3. Finally, many translatom believe thet different types of translation are required by readers without the original language and readers attempting to read the original. This is a mistaken view: the Greekless reader must be given_some idea of_the word pauems which are so important a part of the mean1ag of the original, and someone trying to translate the Greek also needs t? observe these word patterns. Not only will his translations be better if he does so: recognition ef the essential shape of the Greek actually makes the task of translation easier. ~

[19

18)

Bibliography

c.

Martindale, 'Unlocking the word-hoard: in praise of metaphrase•,

Comparative Criticism 6 (1984), 47-72. W. Radice and B. Reynolds (eds), The translator's Art:

Essays in

Honour of Betty Radice (Penguin 1987). 6 COMPLEXITY AND INTENT

Works of literature are written by authors, who have certain intentions. They decide to write works about certain things. They decide what, more or less, they ue going to put into these works. Plutarch decided to pair Demosthenes and Cicero in his series of Parallel Uves. He observed similarities betweea the two men: he clearly intended to organise his narratives in such a way as to illustrate those similarities (section 7). But from sections 3, 4 and 5, and, even more, from sections 7 and 9 and the analyses within the commentary, the Life of Cicero emerges as an extremely complex work. Yet are these analyses too subtle? Did Plutarch include such complexities among his intentions? A familiar question with a familiar implication: what the author does not 'intend' is not there. There are two good replies to this question. First, the creation of complexity from simple elements by means of repetition, parallel and contrast is so widespread in, and seemingly so natural to, aassical ' literature, that both Oassical authors and readers must have been much • more attuned to it than we are, so that what seems so complex to us may not have seemed so in the ancient world. Second, even granted that there may come a point where an ancient writer does not 'intend' a meaning, the idea that what he does not 'intend' cannot be there, is, of all critical doctrines, the most boring, depressing (for there is naturally very little external evidence to illumine the intentions of most ancient authors), and ill-considered~ The workings of the creative imagination are infinitely mysterious. Even in ordinary conversation we know that seme of the things we say we plan in advance, whereas others 'just come': we do not seem to know what we are gaing to say until we actually say it. Yet such things make sense. Similarly when we write. Some things we plan - we search for words before we actually write or type. Other things we do not. We only seem to know what we think when we actually write it. The mental processes involved are often uneenscious.

How much more likely is this to apply to the mental processes of !he truly creative writer. 'I have written a poem,' said the poet Yeats, handing it to a critic, 'Now you tell me what it means. 1 Ma~y artists, wri!ers and composers have said similar things. 'Do you really think Plutarch mtended that?' is no argument against an interpretation which makes se~ of ~e text. Some meanings Plutarch obviously did intend - some meanings which seem to be in the text he may not have intended, but it simply does not matter. Sometimes consciously. sometimes instinctively, his marvellously erutive brain produced patterns of sometimes remarkable comple_xity. If a text seems complex, it is complex; and in such cases the question of the author's conscious thoughts, while no doubt of considerable importance in scientific investigations into the workings of the human brain, is no concern of serious literary crit'icisnu This does not mean that the question is never a proper one. It is for example a fundamental question in the problem of truth in the Life of Cicero (section 9). Nor does it mean that Plutarch did not intend his Lives to be complex: he did intend this general effect (cf. section 7), though some of the means by which the effect was attained will have been instinctive. What it does mean is that interpretations cannot be rejected on the philistine ground that they are 'too subtle'. 7 THE DEMOSTHENES-CICERO PAIRlNG

The role of comparison in the Parallel Lives Plutarch's Lives come in pairs. Each pair is a formal unity, as Plutarch emphasises (e.g. Dem. 3.1, Alex. 1.1). Of the twenty-two surviving pairs eighteen (including the Demosthenes-Cicero) dose with a separate formal Comparison (in the other cases the Comparison has presumably been lost). The introduction to the first Life normally contains a preliminary comparison, outlining the main similarities between the two heroes, so that the narratives are framed by comparisons at beginningand end in a unified ring structure. Most Uves also utilise 'internal comparisons', wheseby th:e her.o is compared with other leading figures in the narrative (cf. Cic. 1.Sn). Plutarch elsewhere explains the purpose of comparison as follows: 'it is not possible to leom better the similarity and difference of virtue . . . than by putting lives beside lives and actions beside actions, like great works of art, and observing whether the greatness of Semiramis has the same stamp and form as that of Sesostris or the intelligence of Tanaquil tlte same as that of Servius the king, or th~

20) high spirit of Porcia the same as that of Brutus, or that of Pelopidas the same as Timocleia's, with regard to the most important common qualities and abilities' (Mul. virt. 243C [specifically of the similarity and difference of the virtue of men and of women]). Thus the process of comparison is basic to Plutarch's conception in the Parallel Lives, even though its execution is net always successful: some of his choices of pairs seem ill suited and in some of the formal Comparisons he is clearly struggling to fulfil his progrannne, and the conception itself is problematic. The formal Comparison. is naturally a mixed blessing. It serves to re-emphasise the basic themes of often complex narratives and to define the differences between the two heroes. Yet as an exercise in explicit moralising and as it were totting up the good and bad points of each hero to see who makes the higher score, it inevitably produces judgements that are exaggerated and crude by comparison with the narratives and sometimes even incensistent with them. Nevertheless, by the theory of comparison the Cicero ideally should be read alongside the Demosthenes. The following discussion aims to fill the gap. General parallels between Demosthenesand Cicero

In the introduction to the Demostherres (3.3-5) Plutarch writes as follows: 'The divinity appears from the start to have moulded Cicero the same as Demosthenes and to have thrown in to his nature many similarities, as for example the love of honour, the love of freedom in ~litics and the lack of daring as regards dangers and wars, and to have m.txed together many similarities of fortunes. For I do not think that two other orators could be found who became strong and great from inglorious and small backgrounds, came into conflict with kings and tyrants, lost daughters, were exiled but returned with honour, fled again and were captured by their enemies and ended their lives at the same time as their fellow citizens' freedom ceased. So that, if there were to be a contest between nature and fortune, as between artists it would be difficult to decide whether the former had rendered the ~en more alike in their characters or the latter in the incidents of their lives.• So similar are Demosthenes· and Cicero that they seem to have been ~~t~ .by God from the same clay (God is likened to a potter). The S11D1lar1t1es are of two kinds: similarities of character and similarities of fortune. For Plutarch's moral purpose it is the former which matter, the latter ~owever remarkable, matter only in that they facilitate direct compar1SOnbetween the two men.

(21 Detailed parallels between the two Lives

The preliminary comparison of Demosthenes and Cicero see~ simple, but the narrative explores its implications in enormous detail, as _the following analysis shows. (The commentary notes some even more detailed parallels.) . .. Demosthenes' family background, like Cicero's, provides ammumt1on to political opponents, Demosthenes' through his mother's family, Cicero's Plutarch stresses through his father's (Dem. 4.2, Cic. 1.1-6, 26.9). Cicero's difficulties more - rightly, because it was much harder for such men to excel in aristocratic Rome than in democratic Athens. Both also have difficultiDs with their names or nicknames (Dem. 4.5-8, Cic. 1.3-6,

5.2).

Demosthenes is left in reai affluence, in some contrast to Cieero

(Dem. 4.3, Cic. 7.3, 8.3), but deprived of a liberal education, in sharp contrast to Cicero (Dem. 4.3, Cic. 2.3-5). They are alike in their bodily weakness (attacked as effeminacy: Dem. 4.5-6, cf. 6.5, 11.3, Cic. 1.1, cf. 19.7) and l1arshness of voice (Dem. 4.5, 8; 6.4, 11.1, Cic. 3.7). Unlike

Cicero, Demosthenes is inspired to seek the fame of an oratorical career by the triumph of .another, the orator Callistratus (Dem. 5.1-4), which teaches him oratory's power to 'subdue and tame' all things (Dem. 5.4, cf. Cic. 12.6, 39.7). Callistratus' triumph marks Demosthenes' 'start', just as Like the Roscius case marks Cicero's (Dem. 5.1, cf. 5.5; Cic. 3.5). Cicero, Demosthenes trains hard in declamation and has several teachers (Dem. 5.5-7, Cic. 3.1, 4.4-7); unlike Cicero he confines himself to oratory (Dem. 5.5, Cic. 2.3-5). Demosthenes' first great success is against his dishonest guardians, Cicero's his defence of Roscius. Whereas Demosthenes' pves him 'duing as regards speaking' and encourages him to enter public life, Cicero's causes a temporary withdrawal from it (Dem. 6.1, Cic. 3.4-6),. and he never actually acquires confidence in public speaking (Cic. 35.3). Nonetheless, in his first speeches before the people Demosthenes suffers from 'loss of lmart' and 'lack of daring' (6.5, cf. Cic. 6.4, 35.3). Both men's vocal defects need treatment before they can progress in politics (Dem. 6.3-S, 7.5-6, 11.1, Cic. 3. 7, 4.4, 5.4), both in their oratory resemble Pericles (Dem. 6.5, 9.2, Cic. 39.5), benefit from f:mitatingactors (Dem. 7.1-5, Cic. 5.4), and are urged by others to retllfll to political life (Dem. 6.5-7.3, Cic. 4.4, 5.3, cf. 3.5). Both rapidly surpass their oratorical rivals (Dem. 6.2, Cic. 5.3). Both are strongly motivated by ambition, which sometimes overcomes their lack of daring (Dem. 5.4, cf. 13.6, Cic. 1.5; 5.1, 3). Now begins a long discussion of Demosthenes' oratory, embracing a

[23 22] wide variety of topics (Dem. 8.1-16.4). Its length reflects partly Plutarch's knowledge of Demosthenes' oratory (as opposed to Cicero's [Dem. 3.11), partly his general shortage of material on Demosthenes. Nevertheless, the discuwon illustrates Demosthenes' character, has some unity (the topics generally bear on Demosthenes' lack of confhlence), gathers naurative momentum, and provides many parallels and contrasts with Cicero. These are as follows: the question marks over Demosthenes' natural talent (8.3, contrast Cic. 2.2) and daring (8.7, 9.1, 3, cf. 6.1, 5; Cic. 3.6, 14.1, 35.3, 42.2nn); his vocal problems (11.1); his emphasis on oratodeal delivery (11.3, cf. Cic. 5.6); his oratory's harsh and bitter quality (Dem. 11.S), which contrasts with Cicero's (Cic. 13.1-2) hut resembles bis wit (Cic. 27.1; d •. also Demosthenes' wit at 16.4); his sense of humour (Dem. 11.S-6. cf. Cic. 1.6n; Plutarch rightly inakes much moro of Cicero's [cf. Comp. 1.4-6)); his commitment to freedom (12.7, 13.4, cf. Cic. 3.3n); his great glory (12.7, cf. Cic. 1.Sn); the consistency and stability of his policies (13.1-4), which he clearsightedly pursues to the end knowing that they will cost him his life, in contrast to Cicero, who wavers over the correct punishment for the Catalinarians (Cic. 21.2-3n), is perhaps not temperamentally suited to outright opposition to Caesar (Cic. 38.1), fails to maintain his Republicanism against Caesar and Octavian (3.3n) and adopts po(uc i)eswhihis. eh cost ~ his life but result from criminal folly and ignorance 46. 1 ; venality (12.4-5, 14.2), as contrasted witli Cicero's incorruptibility (7.3n); the philosophical quality of his best oratory (13.S-6, d. Cic. 13.1); his lack of bravery in war (13.6, 14.2), broadly paralleled by Cicero (Dem. 3.3, Cic. 3.6n), th