ARTEMIDORUS: You think we could get started? I have a very important message to deliver and I don't want to be late. 

SERVILIA: Oh, yes. Yes, of course. And that's exactly what I wanted to talk to you about. It will only take a minute and then you can be on your way. Just a brief introduction first. You, sir, are Artemidorus, a teacher of rhetoric I'm told. 

ARTEMIDORUS: That's right. 

SERVILIA: And what is that exactly? Sounds a little obscure. 

ARTEMIDORUS: Obscure? Rhetoric is the art and science, I might say, of communication. Is there anything more important than our ability to communicate effectively? Language makes life possible. Language makes us human. 

SERVILIA: Okay, I can tell you feel very strongly about this. 

ARTEMIDORUS: And I'm serious. There is no more important art. 

SERVILIA: And you make a living at this? 

ARTEMIDORUS: A very good one. Well, think about it. Pretend you're from a powerful family in Rome. What skills would you want your sons to have in order to obtain and keep influence and power in the Roman government? 

SERVILIA: And daughters, let's not forget. 

ARTEMIDORUS: Humor—I like it. It's a nice touch. But don't be silly. Hiring me to teach your daughters rhetoric would be a waste of time. I'm sure you're aware that women in Rome have no place in government—well, no place in public life, really. Except indirectly, shall we say, when a woman might try to sway her husband's opinions. But the opportunities and odds for that happening are few and far between. Although it's a good idea. I could teach a class to women who want to have more persuasive power over their husbands. We wouldn't want the husbands to know about the class, of course. That's tricky. 

SERVILIA: Yes, well, you were saying something about skills. 

ARTEMIDORUS: Oh, that's right, skills. What skills would you want your son to have in order to have a career in the Roman state? Swordsmanship? Hardly. Power comes from influence and influence comes from persuasion. You want to pass a new law? You have to persuade your fellow senators. You want to start a new war in Gaul? You have to convince your peers, your soldiers, the people of Rome that a war is the thing to do. And not only convince them to accept it but to convince them to believe that it's the right thing to do, and it's the only thing to do. 

SERVILIA: I'm starting to see what you mean. You know, where I'm from people aren't really interested in persuading each other about anything. It's more like, what I think is right and what you think is dumb and dangerous. Whatever. It's more like a food fight than a debate. 

ARTEMIDORUS: Oh dear. Sounds dreadful. How does anything get done? 

SERVILIA: Oh. Nothing gets done. That's actually what we tend to mean by the word rhetoric—a lot of posturing but not a lot of action. That's just a bunch of rhetoric—lots of words but no meaning. 

ARTEMIDORUS: Well that is a form of rhetoric, though a lowly one. But in our sense of the word, rhetoric is the master science. It's the study of language in all its forms. And there isn't anything that we do as human beings that isn't touched by language. 

SERVILIA: So you're saying it's something that people can work on, like a skill? 

ARTEMIDORUS: Of course. Compare it to sword fighting. If you're in a sword fight, the better skills you have, the more practice and technique, the better you're going to do, right? 

SERVILIA: I suppose so. 

ARTEMIDORUS: And so what if you're in a war of words with somebody? Which can be just as much of a life and death struggle as a sword fight, by the way. And wouldn't you want just as much knowledge about the tool you're using, about language, as you would about swords and sword fighting? Wouldn't you want the skill, practice, and technique, and experience? 

SERVILIA: I see what you mean. 

ARTEMIDORUS: And it's not just the life and death stuff, of course. But language is everywhere. Take this exercise—let's say that I have sent you a letter. Let's say it's this letter right here. It's—this is exquisite paper. Is it Egyptian? 

SERVILIA: No idea. 

ARTEMIDORUS: Sorry. Let's say that that is the letter that I've sent you. Let's say that you liked the letter. Now, what do you say to me in your reply? About liking my letter. 

SERVILIA: Well, I suppose I'd say, I like the letter? 

ARTEMIDORUS: Good, good, that's a good start. How else might you say it? 

SERVILIA: I really enjoyed your letter. 

ARTEMIDORUS: Excellent! You're very good at this, Servilia. 

SERVILIA: Thank you. 

ARTEMIDORUS: Now, how many other ways you think you can come up with of saying it? 

SERVILIA: I don't know, a few more. Thanks for the lovely letter. 

ARTEMIDORUS: Wonderful. Now, what if I were to say that as my student of rhetoric your homework is to come up with 150 different ways of saying it? 

SERVILIA: 150? That sounds like a lot. 

ARTEMIDORUS: Come on, I bet you could do it. You just haven't been practicing. 

SERVILIA: But 150? 

ARTEMIDORUS: Well, don't be silly. That's only the bottom limit. Your brief note refreshed my spirits in no small measure. Your pages engendered in me an unfamiliar delight. I conceived a wonderful delight from the note you sent. I was singularly delighted by your epistle. 

SERVILIA: Epistle? 

ARTEMIDORUS: It's another word for a letter. Your brief missive flooded me with inexpressible joy. As a result of your letter I was suffused by an unfamiliar gladness. The perusal of your letter charmed my mind with singular delight. 

SERVILIA: But isn't it just all different ways of saying the same thing? "I liked your letter." 

ARTEMIDORUS: Heavens, no. Similar in a general sense, maybe. But they're all a little bit different, right? Each one has its own tone, its own effect on you, the reader. It can be very subtle I know but it's those subtleties that are so important. Remember the sword fighting that we've been imagining. So in every case the goal is to stab your opponent, but it's the subtleties of swordplay that determine whether or not you'll succeed. And in the case of language, it's the subtleties that provide the vast range of different meanings. So if, instead of saying I like, I say unfamiliar gladness or singular delight, they all mean "I liked your letter," but each of them has its own texture, its own meaning really. And its all those little different changes that makes the world so much richer. 

SERVILIA: A richer world, really? 

ARTEMIDORUS: Absolutely. Well think about it. I read a letter from you and that letter fills me with some sense of pleasure—enough that I can say I liked your letter. But what kind of like am I feeling? 

SERVILIA: Is it profound joy? I mean, that comes on a little strong, right? Is it singular delight? Singular means one of a kind. So maybe not that. 

ARTEMIDORUS: Refreshed my spirits. That's it—that's how I felt. See, these are all different worlds, Servilia—profound joy, singular delight, refreshed spirits. And how can we know what world we're living in until we've named it? I mean indeed, do these worlds even exist unless we've named them? The world gets richer from naming it. Language is our passport to a richer life. 

SERVILIA: You're very convincing, Artemidorus. 

ARTEMIDORUS: Thank you. I've been practicing. Now you try. 

SERVILIA: Now? 

ARTEMIDORUS: Why not? How else would you say it? 

SERVILIA: I don't know, let's see. Your note has instilled in me a sense of calm delight. 

ARTEMIDORUS: Fantastic. "A sense of calm delight?" You're a natural. Now I went 149 on my doorstep by tomorrow morning. 

SERVILIA: I just might do that. 

ARTEMIDORUS: You know, you really are sly, Servilia. A real master of influence yourself. I mean, look at me? I've got urgent business to attend to and here you've got me talking about myself and my work. I—I really must go, OK? This is the utmost importance. It's vital to the future of Rome, in fact. 

SERVILIA: Oh, dear. Yes, of course. But I suppose there's no better person for the job. 

ARTEMIDORUS: Let's hope. But everything rides on getting an audience with Caesar. And see, there's only one sure way to undermine the power of language and that's not to be heard at all. My letter will mean nothing if it's not read. 

SERVILIA: Sounds like there's a lot more at stake than "I liked your letter." 

ARTEMIDORUS: Much more—much, much more, I'm afraid. 

SERVILIA: Well, if you don't mind, I—I know you're in a hurry. But would you mind reading the letter for our audience? 

ARTEMIDORUS: Very well, but only because it's short. And then after that I really do have to go. "Caesar, beware of Brutus. Take heed of Cassius. Come not near Casca. Have an eye to Cinna. Trust not Trebonius. Mark well Metellus Cimber. Decius Brutus loves thee not. Thou hast wronged Caius Ligarius. There is but one mind in all these men, and it is bent against Caesar. If thou beest not immortal, look about you. Security gives way to conspiracy. The mighty gods defend thee. Thy lover, Artemidorus." 

SERVILIA: Well I'm glad we had this talk. Sounds like you want to say, "Caesar, you're in danger." 

ARTEMIDORUS: Yes, well, let's make that the second part of your homework tonight, Servilia. Why have I said things the way that I say them here? Why do I have a separate sentence for each of the conspirators? Why reference the notion of immortality? Why speak specifically about security and safety? There is much to learn here, Servilia, even if the message, "you're in danger," is simpler and more direct. But I really must run. 

SERVILIA: That's right. You need to get that letter into Caesar's hands or your use of rhetoric will be wasted. 

ARTEMIDORUS: Well, I will stand in Caesar's path and I will give him this letter when he passes by. 

SERVILIA: What's the matter? 

ARTEMIDORUS: My heart laments that virtue cannot live out of the teeth of emulation. 

SERVILIA: I'm sorry? 

ARTEMIDORUS: Oh, let's see. I feel sad that the virtue, the goodness and excellence of character of Caesar, cannot live free from the envy and rivalry of others. 

SERVILIA: So, just to make this clear, you are a Caesar supporter? 

ARTEMIDORUS: Of course. There's no more virtuous man and all of Rome. 

SERVILIA: And you think this conspiracy against him is driven by envy, a rivalry from others? 

ARTEMIDORUS: Well, what else? What, have they talked themselves into some high ideals? Love of the Roman people, hatred of tyrants? That's very typical of Romans, I'm afraid. They often don't know their own hearts. They feel envy but then they talk of the good of Rome. 

SERVILIA: Sounds like language can hide as much as it can reveal, even when it comes to our own hearts. 

ARTEMIDORUS: That's very well said, Servilia. It's a sad truth, but very well said. But if I can get Caesar my letter, he might stand a chance of surviving this conspiracy. If not, then the traitors must have fate on their side. And if Caesar dies it's going to take someone with much, much greater talent with language than myself to tell that story. 

SERVILIA: Well maybe that person will come along some day. It's been nice talking to you. Wait, no—talking to you has awakened in me a new appreciation for the power of language and a growing concern for the future of the Roman people. 

ARTEMIDORUS: Nicely done, Servilia, nicely done.