Brutus, or On Eminent Orators Passage 274

Sed de M. Calidio dicamus aliquid, qui non fuit orator unus e multis, potius inter multos prope singularis fuit: ita reconditas exquisitasque sententias mollis et perlucens vestiebat oratio. Nihil tam tenerum quam illius comprensio verborum, nihil tam flexibile, nihil quod magis ipsius arbitrio fingeretur, ut nullius oratoris aeque in potestate fuerit: quae primum ita pura erat ut nihil liquidius, ta libere fluebat ut nusquam adhaeresceret; nullum nisi loco positum et tamquam in vermiculato emblemate, ut ait Lucilius, structum verbum videres; nec vero ullum aut durum aut insolens aut humile aut [in] longius ductum ; ac non propria verba rerum sed pleraque translata, sic tamen ut ea non inruisse in alienum locum sed immigrasse in suum diceres; nec vero haec soluta nec diffluentia sed astricta numeris, non aperte nec eodem modo semper sed varie dissimulanterque conclusis.

But let us say something about Marcus Calidius, who was not merely one orator among many, but almost unique among many. His soft and transparent speech clothed thoughts that were deeply considered and refined. Nothing was so delicate as his combination of words, nothing so flexible, nothing more readily shaped at his own discretion, so that no orator’s language was equally under his control. First, it was so pure that nothing could be clearer; it flowed so freely that it caught nowhere. You saw no word that was not placed exactly where it belonged and set, as Lucilius says, like a piece in a vermiculated mosaic. Nor was any word harsh, unusual, low, or [in] drawn out too far. His words were not the proper names of things, but were mostly metaphorical, yet in such a way that you would say they had not broken into an alien place but migrated to their own. Nor were these loose or diffuse, but bound by rhythms, their periods closed not openly or always in the same manner, but with variety and concealment.

Mais parlons un peu de M. Calidius, qui ne fut pas simplement un orateur parmi beaucoup d’autres, mais presque un homme unique au milieu d’eux. Son style doux et transparent revêtait des pensées profondes et recherchées. Rien n’était aussi délicat que ses périodes, rien d’aussi souple, rien qui se façonnât davantage à son gré, au point qu’aucun orateur n’eut jamais autant de pouvoir sur son expression. Celle-ci était d’abord si pure que rien ne pouvait être plus limpide ; elle coulait si librement qu’elle ne s’arrêtait nulle part. On n’y voyait aucun mot qui ne fût placé à l’endroit voulu et enchâssé, comme dans un pavement en mosaïque, selon le mot de Lucilius ; aucun qui fût dur, insolite, bas ou [trop] prolongé. Ce n’étaient pas les termes propres des choses, mais pour la plupart des métaphores, employées pourtant de telle manière qu’on aurait dit qu’elles n’avaient pas fait irruption dans une place étrangère, mais émigré vers la leur. Ces mots n’étaient ni relâchés ni flottants, mais liés par le rythme, sans conclusions manifestes ni toujours identiques, avec variété et dissimulation.