by Scott McGill
The rhythm of the text continues into the next series of sentences and plays on the placement of me in the last sentence. It begins with “I myself will hear everything; I myself will judge, and, if it should be proven, I myself will avenge myself” (ipse audiam omnia, ipse cognoscam et si fuerit comprobatum, ipse me vindicabo). The repeating of ipse (“myself”) is impossible to miss, though more hidden is the inverted parallelism of me ipse which leads into the sentence and ipse me which closes it. The same word begins and ends the next clause, giving the word itself greater emphasis. An English translation can hardly hope to replicate it: “Let him speak untroubled and let him speak confidently” (dicat securus et bene conscius dicat).
The rapidity calms down in the final lines, but the complexity and parallelisms continue:
If he proves it, as I said, I will avenge myself upon him, who has deceived me up to this time with false integrity. That man who makes known and proves the crime, however, I will increase his rank and wealth.
Si probaverit, ut dixi, ipse me vindicabo de eo qui me usque ad hoc tempus simulata integritate deceperit, illum autem qui hoc prodiderit et conprobaverit, et dignitatibus et rebus augebo.
Here is a third appearance of the ipse me combination and a reappearance of the phrase “ipse me vindicabo.” Note also the parallel relative clauses, which compare the administrator, who deceives (deceperit), to Constantine’s subject, who exposes the crime and proves it (prodiderit et conprobaverit). Both clauses occur within the confines of a loose chiastic structure – a sort of cross‐stitching – set up by the first person verbs vindicabo and augebo.
As Dillon argued, Constantine used this law to communicate his vision of good government and how he wanted Romans to perceive the role of the emperor in their lives. The sophisticated way this text was written helped Constantine achieve this goal in several ways. Constantine’s government, for example, is one centered on proof. He emphasized this through the frequent use of verbs such as probare and comprobare and underscored them with syntax. Similarly, the law stresses Constantine’s full control over the empire. The repetition of first‐person pronouns and verbs makes clear that Constantine hears his subjects’ concerns and that he responds to them. But ultimately what makes this text work in the way that it does is Constantine’s mastery of language and syntax. The text’s persuasiveness and larger message would have been lost without this.
Constantine did not reserve this style of speech exclusively for when he wanted to communicate with his subjects on a mass scale. Extant legal texts give the impression that he spoke in this manner frequently, regardless of context, audience, or subject matter. A letter that he wrote to an imperial official in 319 provides an apt example. In this text, Constantine laid out the proper method for executing individuals convicted of parricide:
If anyone should hasten the fate of a parent, or a son, or of any relative whatsoever with the result that it be known by the name of parricide, regardless of whether he had done this in secret or out in the open, let him meet neither the sword, nor fire, nor any other customary punishment.
si quis in parentis aut filii aut omnino affectionis eius, quae nuncupatione parricidii continetur, fata properaverit, sive clam sive palam id fuerit enisus, neque gladio, neque ignibus, neque ulla alia solenni poena subiugetur… (CTh. 9.15.1)
Constantine makes ample use of repetitive structures and language in these lines. The simplicity bred by repetition is offset by the poetic phrase fata properaverit, literally “to hasten fate.” One finds close variations on this expression in classical texts such as Seneca’s Hercules Furens (867), Ovid’s Metamorphoses (10.31), and the poetry of Propertius (2.28.25). The text, thus, layers its clarity with poetic complexity.
The next line morbidly utilizes mimetic syntax: “but sewed into a leather sack and confined within its deadly closeness, let him mingle with the company of serpents” (sed insutus culeo et inter eius ferales angustias comprehensus serpentum contuberniis misceatur). The syntactical structure of insutus culeo and inter…comprehensus plays on the nature of the actions that Constantine prescribes. Just as the offender is to suffer confinement (among other things), so, too, do the very words that mandate his punishment.
Constantine concludes this section of the law by instructing that the convicted party be thrown into the sea – snakes and all:
As the nature of the region will determine, he is to be thrown either into a nearby sea or into a river, so that while still alive he may begin to lose every enjoyment of the elements, and so that the heavens may be taken from him while living, and the earth while dead.
ut regionis qualitas tulerit, vel in vicinum mare vel in amnem proiiciatur, ut omni elementorum usu vivus carere incipiat, ut ei coelum superstiti, terra mortuo auferatur
These two lines showcase syntactical features seen elsewhere in the text such as the repetition of similar phrases, but they also reveal some of Constantine’s syntactical range. This is particularly noticeable in the final clause. We have seen before Constantine’s fondness for chiastic syntax. Here, however, the syntax is interlaced. Coelum superstiti is juxtaposed with terra mortuo, interweaving an unmistakable, and haunting, comparison between polar opposites – heaven and earth and life and death.
Just as Constantine’s edict on bureaucratic corruption showed that he utilized rhetorical and elegant speech when communicating key messages on a mass scale, his letter from 319 shows that he used this same form of speech when discussing meaner topics in a more private context. Constantine sought to persuade his subjects through high diction and sophisticated syntax regardless of audience or subject matter.
Constantine was far from being the only later Roman emperor to have done this. A cursory glance through extent legal texts from the fourth century suggests that, to some degree or another, all later emperors spoke and legislated in this elevated style. In 369, for instance, Valentinian and Valens used a style similar to Constantine’s in a letter to a praetorian prefect, informing him that legal and administrative fees – like the ones listed on the Timgad inscription – are not to be charged on days of imperial celebration:
Whenever the joys of happy announcements are made known to provincials and when any message is disseminated throughout the world, whether these are the illustrious victories of our soldiers or the slaughter of our enemies or our triumphs or those consulships, which we hold ourselves or impart to someone, are announced.
siquando faustorum nuntiorum gaudia provincialibus intimantur quotiensque quid per terrarum orbem disseminatur, seu militum illustres victoriae seu strages hostium aut nostri triumphi perferuntur vel hi quos geremus aut deferimus consulatus. (CTh. 8.11.3)
Like Constantine, the emperors display a fondness for repetition and variation as well as for alliteration. They also make frequent use of bracketing and chiastic structures.
We can see another example in a letter from Theodosius I to a general in 391, instructing him not to allow soldiers to urinate or defecate in local drinking supplies:
When the whole multitude of the legions halts upon the green banks of the rivers, by our farseeing authority we decree this: that no one at all may defile the common drinking supply with filthy excrement in the streams; nor while hurriedly washing the sweat off of horses may anyone offend the public gaze by appearing in the nude and thus mix drinking with filth and shock those who are looking onward. But instead, let him go far away from the view of all to the lower parts of rivers.
cum supra virentes fluminum ripas omnis legionum multitudo consistit, id provida auctoritate decernimus, ut nullus omnino inmundo fimo sordidatis fluentis commune poculum polluat neve abluendo equorum sudore deproperus publicos oculos nudatus incestet atque ita et turbido potum caeno misceat et confundat aspectum, sed procul a cunctorum obtutibus in inferioribus partibus fluviorum. (CTh. 7.1.13)
A clever pattern is at work in this text. The first clause interweaves its words. But a terse main clause, in which the emperor invokes his “farseeing authority,” suddenly intervenes and c
hanges the flow to a more standardized Latin syntax (ut … polluat) and takes advantage of similar sounding endings: omnino inmundo fimo sordidatis fluentis. Shortly into the following clause, the syntax flips again, this time to a chiastic structure (deproperus publicos oculos nudatus), which is succeeded by a second instance of interweaving (turbido potum caeno misceat) and then a return to chiastic structure (cunctorum obtutibus in inferioribus partibus fluviorum). The law offers an impressive piece of syntactical craftsmanship and shows that even the subject of human excrement merited the emperor’s eloquence.
These latter two examples confirm what we saw before with Constantine’s legislation. Regardless of context, addressee, or subject matter, emperors in late antiquity spoke and legislated in a lofty and elevated manner. They regularly utilized complex syntax, elevated diction, and poetic language. These were key features not only of the late antique legislative style but also of the Roman emperor’s majestic and persuasive style of speaking.
26.4 Legal Texts and Panegyric
A handful of passages from late antique panegyrics demonstrates that the way later emperors spoke in imperial legislation echoed the way that Romans spoke about the emperor in ceremonial contexts. An anonymous panegyric for the emperor Constantius Chlorus delivered in the late third century offers a concise example:
In this type of oratory, I perceived how much care, how much labor, and how much reverence there is even when I was engaged in the daily exercise of instructing youths. For although I am not able to do justice, in speaking, to the early accomplishments of your father and uncle in restoring the state, I am, nevertheless, able to assess them by counting.
Quo in genere orationis, quanta esset cura, quantus labor, quam sollicita veneratio, sensi etiam cum in cotidiana illa instituendae iuventutis exercitatione versarer. Quaevis enim prima tunc in renascentem rem publicam patris ac patrui tui merita, licet dicando aequare non possem, possem tamen vel censere numerando. (Pan. Lat. 8.1.2)
The passage opens with the alliteration of quo…quanta…quantus…quam. More alliteration comes in the fast‐paced line renascentem rem publicam patris ac patrui. The passage ends with a textbook example of chiasmus: dicando aequare non possem, possem tamen vel censere numerando. All of these same features appeared in the legal texts of the fourth‐century emperors that we examined previously.
A passage from Claudius Mamertinus’s panegyric for the emperor Julian in 362 (Pan. Lat. 3.14.3) offers a second example. While praising the emperor’s industry and mobility, he wrote, “But our emperor adds to time what he extracts from his own leisure. He gives nothing to sleep, nothing to food, nothing to leisure” (sed imperator noster addit ad tempus quod otio suo detrahit. Nihil somno, nihil epulis, nihil otio tribuit). There is a noticeable bracketing effect in the placement of addit and detrahit in the first line. But more importantly, this is followed by the repetition of nihil…nihil…nihil, which is as unmistakable as the repetition of ipse that we saw in Constantine’s edict from 324.
A third illustrative example can be found in a passage from Symmachus’s second panegyric for Valentinian I, which dates to the late 360 s. The passage displays a range of syntax and variation comparable to what we saw in Theodosius’s letter to Richomer. It begins with a series of parallel structures:
It harmonizes with your glory, it harmonizes with your skillful vigilance and cares that you enjoy praise in the camp and forum equally. No arts are silent; no industry is languid. Our voices have leisure for laws; our arms for borders.
congruebat hoc gloriae tuae, congruebat vigillis curisque sollertibus, ut campi pariter ac fori laude fruereris. Nullae artes silent, nulla friget industria: vacant ora legibus, arma limitibus. (Or. 2.30)
The structural theme of these lines is a parallel ABAB arrangement. Congruebat…sollertibus introduces this theme. It is continued loosely by ut campi…fruereris and more closely by vacant…limitibus. Only the line featuring the repetition of nulla deviates from this structure, placing friget where the listener might expect industria. The next few lines in the passage follow a very different type of structural order: “Silence to great accomplishments is an enemy. What is glory, if there is silence? You have as many witnesses as the talents you have set free” (silentium magnis rebus inimicum est: quid est gloria, si tacetur? Habes tot testimonia quot ingenia liberasti). As the lines silentium…inimicum and habes…liberasti reveal, the parallel syntax of the first part of the passage has given way to a preference for chiastic structures. By switching structural styles so suddenly, Symmachus took his audience on a sort of syntactical tour in much the same way that Theodosius did in his letter to the general. The intention in each case was to overwhelm the listener by demonstrating a mastery of language and syntactical range.
The three passages above provide us with a sense of how similarly legal texts and panegyric must have sounded to Roman audiences in late antiquity. Both genres display a preference for some of the same rhetorical devices, techniques, and syntactical structures. Consequently, whether the words of the emperor himself were being read aloud in a town center or a trained orator spoke about an emperor in a theater, Romans could expect to be persuaded by a similar cocktail of complex prose rhythms and refined language and syntax.
26.5 Conclusion
The interconnections between legal texts and panegyric that this study illustrates make two important points about later Roman government and late antique literature. First, they stress the fact that Roman government and the emperor were not absent from the robust and creative literary activity of late antiquity. Rather, the manner in which emperors and their imperial consistories experimented with style and syntax and engaged with other literary genres such as panegyric demonstrates the government’s participation in this activity. Second, the relationship between legal texts and panegyric underscores the existence of a late antique imperial discourse that must have shaped how Romans perceived their emperor. Late Roman government encouraged all Romans to view the emperor as a divine being, who spoke persuasively, authoritatively, and with unrivaled sophistication (Brown 1992; Kelly 2004). Panegyric acknowledged and reflected these attributes by describing the emperor as such and by speaking about him in a fittingly rhetorical and elevated manner. But, as this study has argued, imperial legislation actually put these attributes on display and showed them in action. In short, panegyric made the case for the emperor’s majesty and grandeur. Legal texts helped prove it.
The above discussion is a cursory attempt to sketch out some of the more interesting similarities between legal texts and panegyric in late antiquity. A full study of the relationship between late antique legal texts and panegyric would include numerous other legal sources, especially epigraphic texts and the laws of emperors from the fifth and sixth centuries, which would show the continuation of the legislative style that the emperors of the fourth century pioneered. Another direction in which to take this conversation would be an examination of how the parallels between legal texts and panegyric evolved from earlier imperial history. The interconnections that this chapter has sought to highlight appear to be uniquely late antique and can likely be attributed to the governmental changes ushered in by Diocletian and Constantine. But that does not mean that earlier traces are impossible or even unlikely. A comparison of first and second century legal texts to Pliny’s panegyric for the emperor Trajan could possibly reveal precedent for the stylistic nexus of legal texts and panegyric in late antiquity. A third direction would be a study of other late antique literary genres that influenced the authors of legal texts––especially letters, secular and ecclesiastical histories, and sermons. As with many of the literary forms discussed in the volume, the authors of legal texts in late antiquity appear to have expanded traditional generic boundaries and felt free to experiment and innovate. Undoubtedly, this involved far more stylistic overlap and generic borrowing than what this brief study has been able to show.
REFERENCES
Bjornlie, Shane. (2016). The letter collection of Cassiodorus. In:
Late Antique Letter Collections: A Critical Introduction and Reference Guide (ed. Cristiana Sogno, Bradley K. Strorin, and Edward Watts), 433–448. Berkeley: University of California Press.
Brown, Peter. (1992). Power and Persuasion in Late Antiquity: Towards a Christian Empire. Madison: University of Wisconsin Press.
Cohen, D.A. and J.E. Lendon. (2010). Strong and weak regimes: Comparing the Roman Principate and the medieval Crown of Aragon. In: The Roman Empire in Context: Historical and Comparative Perspectives (ed. Johann P. Arnason and Kurt A. Raaflaub), 85–110. Malden, MA: Wiley Blackwell.
Dillon, John. (2012). The Justice of Constantine: Law, Communication, and Empire. Ann Arbor, MI: University of Michigan Press.
Honore, Tony. (1993). Justinian's Codification: Some reflections. Bracton Law Journal 25: 29–38.
Honore, Tony. (1998). Law in the Crisis of Empire, 379–455 AD. Oxford: Oxford University Press.
Kelly, Christopher. (2006). Ruling the Later Roman Empire. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press.
Matthews, John. (2000). Laying Down the Law: A Study of the Theodosian Code. New Haven, CT: Yale University Press.
Robinson, O.F. (1997). The Sources of Roman Law: Problems and Methods for Ancient Historians. New York: Routledge.
Watts, Edward. (2015). The Final Pagan Generation. Berkeley: University of California Press.
NOTE
All translations are the author’s.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
Handbooks, Epitomes, and Florilegia
Marietta Horster and Christiane Reitz
