{121} Many and atrocious as are the crimes of the defendant Aeschines, and great as is the wickedness which is implied by them (as I am sure you also feel) there is none which is more atrocious than that of which I am about to speak to you, and none which will afford more palpable proof that he has taken bribes and sold everything. For when once more, for the third time, you sent the amba.s.sadors to Philip on the strength of those high and n.o.ble expectations which the defendant's promises had roused, you elected both Aeschines and myself, and most of those whom you had previously sent. {122} For my part I came forward and declined upon oath to serve;[n] and though some raised a clamour and bade me go, I declared that I would not; but the defendant had already been elected. Afterwards, when the a.s.sembly had risen, he and his party met and discussed whom they should leave behind in Athens. For while everything was still in suspense, and the future doubtful, there were all kinds of gatherings and discussions in the market-place. {123} They were afraid, no doubt, that a special meeting of the a.s.sembly might suddenly be called, and that you might then hear the truth from me, and pa.s.s some of the resolutions which it was your duty to pa.s.s in the interest of the Phocians, and that so Philip's object might slip from his grasp. For had you merely pa.s.sed a resolution and shown them the faintest ray of hope of any kind, the Phocians would have been saved. It was absolutely impossible for Philip to stay where he was, unless you were misled. There was no corn in the country, for, owing to the war, the land had not been sown; and to import corn was impossible so long as your ships were there and in command of the sea; while the Phocian towns were many in number, and difficult to take except by a prolonged siege. Even a.s.suming that he were taking a town a day, there are two and twenty of them. {124} For all these reasons they left Aeschines in Athens, to guard against any alteration of the course which you had been deluded into taking. Now to decline upon oath to serve, without any cause, was a dangerous and highly suspicious proceeding. 'What?' he would have been asked, 'are you not going on the mission which is to secure all those wonderful good things which you have foretold?' Yet he was bound to remain. How could it be done? He pleads illness. His brother took with him Execestus the physician, came before the Council, swore that Aeschines was too ill to serve, and was himself elected in his place. {125} Five or six days later the ruin of the Phocians had been accomplished, and Aeschines' contract-a mere matter of business-had been fulfilled. Dercylus turned back, and on his arrival here from Chalcis announced to you the destruction of the Phocians, while you were holding an a.s.sembly in the Peiraeus. On hearing the news you were naturally struck with sympathy for them, and with terror for yourselves. You pa.s.sed resolutions to bring in your children and wives from the country, to repair the garrison-forts, to fortify the Peiraeus, and to celebrate the sacrifice to Heracles within the city walls: {126} and in the midst of all this, in the midst of the confusion and the tumult which had fallen upon the city, this learned and able speaker, so loud of voice, though not elected[n] either by the Council or by the people, set off as amba.s.sador to the man who had wrought the destruction, taking no account of the illness which he had previously made his excuse, upon oath, for not serving, nor of the election of another amba.s.sador in his place, nor of the law which imposes the penalty of death for such offences; {127} nor yet reflecting how utterly atrocious it was, that after announcing that the Thebans had placed a price on his head, he should choose the moment when the Thebans had (in addition to all Boeotia, which they already possessed) become masters of the territory of the Phocians as well, to go into the very midst of Thebes, and into the very camp of the Thebans. But so beside himself was he, so utterly bent upon his profits and his bribe, that he ruled out and overlooked all such considerations, and took his departure.

{128} Such was the nature of this transaction; and yet his proceedings when he arrived at his destination are far worse. All of you who are present, and all other Athenians as well, thought the treatment of the unhappy Phocians so atrocious and so cruel that you sent to the Pythian games neither the official deputation from the Council, nor the Thesmothetae,[n] but abandoned that ancient representation of yourselves at the festival. But Aeschines went to the triumphal feast[n] with which the Thebans and Philip were celebrating the victory of their cause and their arms. He joined in the festival: he shared in the libations and the prayers which Philip offered over the ruined walls and country and arms of your allies: with Philip he set garlands on his head, and raised the paean, and drank the loving-cup. {129} Nor is it possible for the defendant to give a different version of the facts from that which I have given. As regards his sworn refusal to serve, the facts are in your public records in the Metroon,[n] guarded by your officer; and a decree stands recorded with express reference to the name of Aeschines.[n] And as for his conduct there, his fellow amba.s.sadors, who were present, will bear witness against him. They told me the story; for I was not with them on this Emba.s.sy, having entered a sworn refusal to serve.

(To the clerk.) {130} Now read me the resolution [and the record], and call the witnesses.

[The decree is read, and the witnesses called.]

What prayers, then, do you imagine Philip offered to the G.o.ds, when he poured his libation, or the Thebans? Did they not ask them to give success in war, and victory, to themselves and their allies, and the contrary to the allies of the Phocians? In these prayers, therefore-in these imprecations upon his own country-Aeschines joined. It is for you to return them upon his own head to- day.

{131} His departure, then, was a contravention of the law which imposes the penalty of death for the offence, and it has been shown that on his arrival he acted in a manner for which he deserves to die again and again, while his former proceedings and the work which he did as amba.s.sador, in their interest,[n] would justly slay him. Ask yourselves what penalty can be found, which will adequately atone for all these crimes? {132} It would surely be shameful, men of Athens, that while all of you, and the whole people, denounce publicly all the consequences of the Peace; while you decline to take part in the business of the Amphictyons; while your att.i.tude towards Philip is one of vexation and mistrust, because the deeds that have been done are impious and atrocious, instead of righteous and advantageous to you; that nevertheless, when you have come into court as the sworn representatives of the State, to sit in judgement upon the report of these proceedings, you should acquit the author of all the evil, when you have taken him red-handed in actions like these. {133} Who is there of all your fellow citizens-nay, who of all the h.e.l.lenes-that would not have good cause for complaint against you, when he saw that though you were enraged against Philip, who in making peace after war was merely purchasing the means to his end from those who offered them for sale-a very pardonable transaction-you were yet acquitting Aeschines, who sold your interests in this shameful manner, notwithstanding the extreme penalties which the laws appoint for such conduct?

{134} Now it is possible that an argument may also be used by the other side to some such effect as this-that the condemnation of those whose diplomacy brought about the Peace will mean the beginning of enmity with Philip. If this is true, then, I can imagine, upon consideration, no more serious charge that I could bring against the defendant, than this. If Philip, who spent his money on the Peace which he wished to obtain, has become so formidable, so powerful, that you have already ceased to regard your oaths and the justice of the case, and are seeking how you can gratify Philip, what penalty, that those who are responsible for this could suffer, would be adequate to the offence? {135} I believe, however, that I shall actually show you that it would more probably mean the beginning of a friendship, advantageous to you. For you must be well a.s.sured, men of Athens, that Philip does not despise your city; nor was it because he regarded you as less serviceable than the Thebans, that he preferred them to you. No! {136} He had been instructed by these men and had heard from them, what I once told you in the a.s.sembly, without contradiction from any of them, that the People is the most unstable thing in the world, and the most incalculable, inconstant as a wave of the sea, stirred by any chance wind. One comes, another goes; but no one cares for the public interest, or remembers it. Philip needs (he is told) friends upon whom he can rely to execute and manage his business with you-such friends, for instance, as his informant.[n] If this were secured for him, he would easily effect all that he desired in Athens. {137} Now if he heard that those who had used such language to him had immediately upon their return been beaten to death, he would doubtless have behaved as the Persian king did. And how was this? He had been deceived by Timagoras,[n] and had given him, it is said, forty talents; but when he heard that Timagoras had been put to death here, and had not even power to secure his own life, much less to carry out the promises he had made to him, he recognized that he had not paid the price to the man who had the power to effect his object. For first, as you know, he sent a dispatch, acknowledging once more your t.i.tle to Amphipolis, which he had previously described as in alliance and friendship with himself; and secondly, he thenceforward wholly abstained from giving money to any one. {138} This is exactly what Philip would have done, if he had seen that any of these men had paid the penalty, and what, if he sees it, he will still do. But when he hears that they address you, and enjoy a high reputation with you, and prosecute others, what is he to do? Is he to seek to spend much, when he can spend less? or to desire to court the favour of all, when he need but court two or three? That would be madness. For even those public benefits which Philip conferred upon the Thebans he conferred not from choice- far from it-but because he was induced to do so by their amba.s.sadors; and I will tell you how. {139} Amba.s.sadors came to him from Thebes just at the time when we were there upon our mission from you. Philip wished to give them money, and that (so they said) in very large amounts. The Theban amba.s.sadors would not accept or receive it. After that, while drinking at a sacrificial banquet and displaying his generosity towards them, Philip offered, as he drank to them, presents of many kinds- captives and the like-and finally he offered them goblets of gold and silver. All these they steadily refused, declining to put themselves in his power in any way. {140} At last Philo, one of the amba.s.sadors, made a speech, men of Athens, which was worthy to be made in the name, not of Thebes, but of yourselves. For he said that it gave them pleasure and delight to see the magnanimous and generous att.i.tude of Philip towards them; but for their own personal part, they were already his good friends even without these presents; and they begged him to apply his generosity to the existing political situation of their country, and to do something worthy of himself and Thebes, promising that, if he did so, their whole city, as well as themselves, would become attached to him. {141} And now observe what the Thebans have gained by this, and what consequences have followed; and contemplate in a real instance the advantages of refusing to sell your country's interests. First of all, they obtained peace when they were already distressed and suffering from the war, in which they were the losing side. Next, they secured the utter ruin of their enemies, the Phocians, and the complete destruction of their walls and towns. And was this all? No, indeed! For besides all this they obtained Orchomenus, Coroneia, Corsia, the Tilphossaeum, and as much of the territory of the Phocians as they desired. {142} This then was what the Thebans gained by the Peace; and surely no more could they have asked even in their prayers. And the amba.s.sadors of Thebes gained-what? Nothing but the credit of having brought this good fortune to their country; and a n.o.ble reward it was, men of Athens, a proud record on the score of merit and honour- that honour which Aeschines and his party sold for money. Let us now set against one another the consequences of the Peace to the city of Athens and to the Athenian amba.s.sadors respectively; and then observe whether its effects have been similar in the case of the city and of these men personally. {143} The city has surrendered all her possessions and all her allies; she has sworn to Philip that even if another approaches them to preserve them for her, you will prevent him; that you will consider any one who wishes to give them up to you as your enemy and foe, and the man who has robbed you of them as your ally and friend. {144} That is the resolution which Aeschines supported, and which was moved by his accomplice Philocrates; and although on the first day I was successful, and had persuaded you to ratify the decree of the allies and to summon Philip's envoys,[n] the defendant forced an adjournment of the question till the next day, and persuaded you to adopt the resolution of Philocrates, in which these proposals, and many others even more atrocious, are made. {145} These were the consequences of the Peace to Athens. It would not be easy to devise anything more shameful. What were the consequences to the amba.s.sadors who brought these things about? I say nothing of all that you have seen for yourselves-the houses, the timber, the wheat. But they also possess properties and extensive estates in the country of your ruined allies, bringing in incomes of a talent to Philocrates and thirty minae to the defendant. {146} Yet surely, men of Athens, it is an atrocious and a monstrous thing, that the calamities of your allies should have become sources of revenue to your amba.s.sadors, and that the same Peace which to the city that sent them meant the ruin of her allies, the surrender of her possessions, and shame in the place of honour, should have created for the amba.s.sadors who brought these things to pa.s.s against their country, revenue, affluence, property, and wealth, in the place of abject poverty. To prove, however, that what I am telling you is true (to the clerk) call me the witnesses from Olynthus.

[The witnesses are called.]

{147} Now I should not wonder if he even dared to make some such statement as this-that the Peace which we were making could not have been made an honourable one, or such as I demanded, because our generals had mismanaged the war. If he argues thus, then remember, in Heaven's name, to ask him whether[n] it was from some other city that he went as amba.s.sador, or from this city itself? If it was from some other, to whose success in war and to whose excellent generals he can point, then it was natural for him to take Philip's money: but if it was from Athens itself, why do we find him taking presents as part of a transaction which involved the surrender of her possessions by the city which sent him? For in any honest transaction the city that sent the amba.s.sadors ought to have shared the same fortune as the amba.s.sadors whom she sent. {148} Consider also this further point, men of Athens. Do you think that the successes of the Phocians against the Thebans in the war, or the successes of Philip against you, were the more considerable? Those of the Phocians against the Thebans, I am quite certain. At least, they held Orchomenus and Coroneia and the Tilphossaeum;[n] they had intercepted the Theban garrison at Neones;[n] they had slain two hundred of them on Hedyleum;[n] a trophy had been raised, their cavalry were victorious, and a whole Iliad of misfortunes had beset the Thebans. You were in no such position as this, and may you never be so in the future! Your most serious disadvantage in your hostilities with Philip was your inability to inflict upon him all the damage that you desired; you were completely secure against suffering any harm yourselves. How is it then that, as the result of one and the same Peace, the Thebans, who were being so badly worsted in the war, have recovered their own possessions and, in addition, have gained those of their enemies; while you, the Athenians, have lost under the Peace even what you retained safely through the war? It is because their amba.s.sadors did not sell their interests, while these men have sold yours. [Ah! he will say,[n] but the allies were exhausted by the war....]. That this is how these things were accomplished, you will realize still more clearly from what I have yet to say.

{150}For when this Peace was concluded-the Peace of Philocrates, which Aeschines supported-and when Philip's envoys had set sail, after receiving the oaths from us-and up to this time nothing that had been done was irreparable, for though the Peace was disgraceful and unworthy of Athens, still we were to get those marvellous good things in return-then I say, I asked and told the amba.s.sadors to sail as quickly as possible to the h.e.l.lespont, and not to sacrifice any of our positions there, nor allow Philip to occupy them in the interval. {151} For I knew very well that everything that is sacrificed when peace is in process of being concluded after war, is lost to those who are so neglectful; since no one who had been induced to make peace with regard to the situation as a whole ever yet made up his mind to fight afresh for the sake of possessions which had been left unsecured; such possessions those who first take them keep. And, apart from this, I thought that, if we sailed, the city could not fail to secure one of two useful results. Either, when we were there and had received Philip's oath according to the decree, he would restore the possessions of Athens which he had taken, and keep his hands off the rest; {152} or, if he did not do so, we should immediately report the fact to you here, and so, when you saw his grasping and perfidious disposition in regard to those your remoter and less important interests, you would not in dealing with greater matters close at hand-in other words, with the Phocians and Thermopylae-let anything be lost. If he failed to forestall you in regard to these, and you were not deceived, your interests would be completely secured, and he would give you your rights without hesitation. {153} And I had good reason for such expectations. For if the Phocians were still safe and sound, as they then were, and were in occupation of Thermopylae, Philip would have had no terror to brandish before you, which could make you overlook any of your rights. For he was not likely either to make his way through by land, or to win a victory by sea, and so reach Attica; while if he refused to act as was right, you would instantly close his ports, reduce him to straits for money and other supplies, and place him in a state of siege; and in that case it would be he, and not you, to whom the advantages of peace would be the overmastering consideration. {154} And that I am not inventing this or claiming wisdom after the event-that I knew it at once, and, with your interest in view, foresaw what must happen and told my colleagues-you will realize from the following facts. When there was no longer any meeting of the a.s.sembly available (since you had used up all the appointed days) and still the amba.s.sadors did not depart, but wasted time here, I proposed a decree as a member of the Council, to which the people had given full powers, that the amba.s.sadors should depart directly, and that the admiral Proxenus should convey them to any district in which he should ascertain Philip to be. My proposal was just what I now tell you, couched expressly in those terms. (To the clerk.) Take this decree and read it.

[The decree is read.]

{155} I brought them away, then, from Athens, sorely against their will, as you will clearly understand from their subsequent conduct. When we reached Oreus and joined Proxenus, instead of sailing and following their instructions, they made a circuitous journey by land, and before we reached Macedonia we had spent three and twenty days. All the rest of the time, until Philip's arrival, we were sitting idle at Pella; and this, with the journey, brought the time up to fifty days in all. {156} During this interval, in a time of peace and truce, Philip was taking Doriscus,[n] Thrace, the district towards the Walls, the Sacred Mountain-everything, in fact, and making his own arrangements there; while I spoke out repeatedly and insistently, first in the tone of a man giving his opinion to his colleagues, then as though I were informing the ignorant, till at last I addressed them without any concealment as men who had sold themselves and were the most impious of mankind. {157} And the man who contradicted me openly and opposed everything which I urged and which your decree enjoined, was Aeschines. Whether his conduct pleased all the other amba.s.sadors as well, you will know presently; for as yet I allege nothing about any of them, and make no accusation: no one of them need appear an honest man to-day because I oblige him to do so, but only of his own free will, and because he was no partner in Aeschines' crimes. That the conduct in question was disgraceful, atrocious, venal, you have all seen. Who were the partners in it, the facts will show.

{158} 'But of course, during this interval they received the oaths from Philip's allies, or carried out their other duties.' Far from it! For though they had been absent from home three whole months, and received 1,000 drachmae from you for their expenses, they did not receive the oaths from a single city, either on their journey to Macedonia, or on the way back. It was in the inn before the temple of the Dioscuri-any one who has been to Pherae will understand me-when Philip was already on the march towards Athens at the head of an army, that the oaths were taken, in a fashion which was disgraceful, men of Athens, and insulting to you. {159} To Philip, however, it was worth anything that the transaction should have been carried out in this form. These men had failed in their attempt to insert among the terms of the Peace the clause which excluded the people of Halus and Pharsalus; Philocrates had been forced by you to expunge the words, and to write down expressly 'the Athenians and the allies of the Athenians'; and Philip did not wish any of his own allies to have taken such an oath; for then they would not join him in his campaign against those possessions of yours which he now holds, but would plead their oaths in excuse; {160} nor did he wish them to be witnesses of the promises on the strength of which he was obtaining the Peace. He did not wish it to be revealed to the world that the city of Athens had not, after all, been defeated in the war, and that it was Philip who was eager for peace, and was promising to do great things for Athens if he obtained it. It was just to prevent the revelation of these facts that he thought it inadvisable that the amba.s.sadors should go to any of the cities; while for their part, they sought to gratify him in everything, with ostentatious and extravagant obsequiousness. {161} But when all this is proved against them-their waste of time, their sacrifice of your position in Thrace, their complete failure to act in accordance either with your decree or your interests, their lying report to you-how is it possible that before a jury of sane men, anxious to be true to their oath, Aeschines can be acquitted? To prove, however, that what I say is true (to the clerk), first read the decree, under which it was our duty to exact the oaths, then Philip's letter, and then the decree of Philocrates and that of the people.

[The decrees and letter are read.]

{162} And now, to prove that we should have caught Philip in the h.e.l.lespont, had any one listened to me, and carried out your instructions as contained in the decrees, (to the clerk) call the witnesses who were there on the spot.

[The witnesses are called.]

(To the clerk.) Next read also the other deposition-Philip's answer to Eucleides,[n] who is present here, when he went to Philip afterwards.

[The deposition is read.]

{163} Now listen to me, while I show that they cannot even deny that it was to serve Philip's interest that they acted as they did. For when we set out on the First Emba.s.sy-that which was to discuss the Peace-you dispatched a herald in advance to procure us a safe conduct. Well, on that occasion, as soon as ever they had reached Oreus, they did not wait for the herald, or allow any time to be lost; but though Halus was being besieged, they sailed there direct, and then, leaving the town again, came to Parmenio, who was besieging it, set out through the enemy's camp to Pagasae, and, continuing their journey, only met the herald at Larissa: with such eager haste did they proceed. {164} But at a time when there was peace and they had complete security for their journey and you had instructed them to make haste, it never occurred to them either to quicken their pace or to go by sea. And why? Because on the former occasion Philip's interest demanded that the Peace should be made as soon as possible; whereas now it required that as long an interval as possible should be wasted before the oaths were taken. {165} To prove that this is so, (to the clerk) take and read this further deposition.

[The deposition is read.]

How could men be more clearly convicted of acting to serve Philip's interest throughout, than by the fact that they sat idle, when in your interest they ought to have hurried, on the very same journey over which they hastened onward, without even waiting for the herald, when they ought not to have moved at all?

{166} Now observe how each of us chose to conduct himself while we were there, sitting idle at Pella. For myself, I chose to rescue and seek out the captives, spending my own money and asking Philip to procure their ransom[n] with the sums which he was offering us in the form of presents. How Aeschines pa.s.sed his whole time you shall hear presently. {167} What then was the meaning of Philip's offering money to us in common? He kept sounding us all-for this too I would have you know. And how? He sent round privately to each of us, and offered us, men of Athens, a very large sum in gold. But when he failed in a particular case (for I need not mention my own name myself, since the proceedings and their results will of themselves show to whom I refer), he thought that we should all be innocent enough to accept what was given to us in common; and then, if we all alike had a share, however small, in the common present, those who had sold themselves privately would be secure. {168} Hence these offers, under the guise of presents to his guest-friends. And when I prevented this, my colleagues further divided among themselves the sum thus offered. But when I asked Philip to spend this sum on the prisoners, he could neither, without discredit, denounce my colleagues, and say, 'But So-and-so has the money, and So-and-so,' nor yet evade the expense. So he gave the promise, but deferred its fulfilment, saying that he would send the prisoners home in time for the Panathenaea. (To the clerk.) Read the evidence of Apollophanes, and then that of the rest of those present.

[The evidence is read.]

{169} Now let me tell you how many of the prisoners I myself ransomed. For while we were sitting waiting there at Pella, before Philip's arrival, some of the captives-all, in fact, who were out on bail-not trusting, I suppose, my ability to persuade Philip to act as I wished, said that they wished to ransom themselves, and to be under no obligation to Philip for their freedom: and they borrowed, one three minae, another five, and another-whatever the amount of the ransom was in each case. {170} But when Philip had promised that he would ransom the rest, I called together those to whom I had advanced the money; I reminded them of the circ.u.mstances; and, lest they should seem to have suffered by their impatience, and to have been ransomed at their own cost, poor men as they were, when all their comrades expected to be set free by Philip, I made them a present of their ransom. To prove that I am speaking the truth, (to the clerk) read these depositions.

[The depositions are read.]

{171} These, then, are the sums which I excused them, and gave as a free gift to fellow citizens who had met with misfortune. And so, when Aeschines says presently, in his speech to you, 'Demosthenes, if, as you say, you knew, from the time when I supported Philocrates' proposal, that we were acting altogether dishonestly, why did you go again as our colleague on the subsequent mission to take the oaths, instead of entering a sworn excuse?' remember this, that I had promised those whose freedom I had procured that I would bring them their ransom, and deliver them to the best of my power. {172} It would have been a wicked thing to break my word and abandon my fellow citizens in their misfortune; while, on the other hand, if I had excused myself upon oath from service, it would not have been altogether honourable, nor yet safe, to make a tour there in a private capacity. For let destruction, utter and early, fall upon me, if I would have joined in a mission with these men for a very large sum of money, had it not been for my anxiety to rescue the prisoners. It is a proof of this, that though you twice elected me to serve on the Third Emba.s.sy, I twice swore an excuse. And all through the journey in question my policy was entirely opposed to theirs. {173} All, then, that it was within my own power to decide in the course of my mission resulted as I have described; but wherever in virtue of their majority they gained their way, all has been lost. And yet, had there been any who listened to me, all would have been accomplished in a manner congruous with my own actions. For I was not so pitiful a fool as to give away money, when I saw others receiving it, in my ambition to serve you, and yet not to desire what could have been accomplished without expense, and would have brought far greater benefits to the whole city. I desired it intensely, men of Athens; but, of course, they had the advantage over me.

{174} Come now and contemplate the proceedings of Aeschines and those of Philocrates, by the side of my own; for the comparison will bring out their character more vividly. Well, they first p.r.o.nounced the exclusion from the Peace of the Phocians and the people of Halus, and of Cersobleptes, contrary to your decree and to the statements made to you. Then they attempted to tamper with and alter the decree, which we had come there as amba.s.sadors to execute. Then they entered the Cardians as allies of Philip and voted against sending the dispatch which I had written to you, sending in its stead an utterly unsound dispatch of their own composition. {175} And then the gallant gentleman a.s.serted that I had promised Philip that I would overthrow your const.i.tution, because I censured these proceedings, not only from a sense of their disgracefulness, but also from fear lest through the fault of these men I might have to share their ruin: while all the time he was himself having incessant private interviews with Philip. And, to pa.s.s over all besides, Dercylus (not I) watched him through the night at Pherae, along with my slave who is here present; and as the slave came out of Philip's tent he took him and bade him report what he had seen, and remember it himself; and finally, this disgusting and shameless fellow was left behind with Philip for a night and a day, when we went away. {176} And to prove that I am speaking the truth, I will myself give evidence which I have committed to writing,[n] so as to put myself in the position of a responsible witness; and after that I call upon each of the other amba.s.sadors, and I will compel them to choose their alternative-either to give evidence, or to swear that they have no knowledge of the matter. If they take the latter course, I shall convict them of perjury beyond doubt.

[Evidence is read.]

{177} You have seen now by what mischief and trouble I was hampered, throughout our absence from home. For what must you imagine their conduct to have been there, with their paymaster close at hand, when they act as they do before your very eyes, though you have power either to confer honour or, on the other hand, to inflict punishment upon them?

I wish now to reckon up from the beginning the charges which I have made, in order to show you that I have done all that I undertook to do at the beginning of my speech. {178} I have proved that there was no truth in his report-that, on the contrary, he deceived you-by the evidence not of words but of the actual course of events. I have proved that he was the cause of your unwillingness to hear the truth from my mouth, captivated as you were at the time by his promises and undertakings; that he gave you advice which was the exact opposite of that which he ought to have given, opposing the Peace which was suggested by the allies, and advocating the Peace of Philocrates; that he wasted time, in order that you might not be able to march to the aid of the Phocians, even if you wished to do so; and that he has done many atrocious deeds during his absence from home; for he has betrayed and sold everything, he has taken bribes, and has left no form of rascality untried. These are the points which I promised at the outset to prove, and I have proved them. {179} Observe, then, what follows; for what I have now to say to you has already become a simple matter. You have sworn that you will vote according to the laws and the decrees of the people and the Council of Five Hundred. The defendant is proved, in all his conduct as amba.s.sador, to have acted in contravention of the laws, of the decrees, and of justice. He ought, therefore, to be convicted in any court composed of rational men. Even if there were no other crimes at his door, two of his actions are sufficient to slay him; for he betrayed to Philip not only the Phocians but also Thrace. {180} Two places in the whole world of greater value to Athens than Thermopylae on land, and the h.e.l.lespont over sea, could not possibly be found; and both these places these men have shamefully sold, and placed in Philip's hands to be used against you. The enormity of this crime alone-the sacrifice of Thrace and the Walls-apart from all the rest, might be proved in countless ways,[n] and it is easy to point out how many men have been executed or fined vast sums of money by you for such offences-Ergophilus,[n] Cephisodotus,[n] Timomachus,[n] Ergocles[n] long ago, Dionysius, and others; all of whom together, I may almost say, have done the city less harm than the defendant. {181} But in those days, men of Athens, you still guarded against danger by calculation and forethought; whereas now you overlook any danger which does not annoy you from day to day, or cause you pain by its immediate presence, and then pa.s.s such resolutions here as 'that Philip shall take the oath in favour of Cersobleptes also,' 'that we will not take part in the proceedings of the Amphictyons,' 'that we must amend the Peace.' But none of these resolutions would have been required, had Aeschines then been ready to sail and to do what was required. As it is, by urging us to go by land, he has lost all that we could have saved by sailing; and by lying, all that could have been saved by speaking the truth.

{182} He intends, I am told, to express immediately his indignation that he alone of all the speakers in the a.s.sembly should have to render an account of his words. I will not urge that all speakers would reasonably be called upon to render such an account, if any of their words were spoken for money; I only say this. If Aeschines in his private capacity has spoken wildly on some occasion or committed some blunder, do not be over-strict with him, but let it pa.s.s and grant him pardon: but if as your amba.s.sador he has deliberately deceived you for money, then do not let him go, or tolerate the plea that he ought not to be called to account for what he said. {183} Why, for what, if not for his words, is an amba.s.sador to be brought to justice? Amba.s.sadors have no control over ships or places or soldiers or citadels-no one puts such things in their hands-but over words and times. As regards times, if he did not cause the times of the city's opportunities to be lost, he is not guilty; but if he did so, he has committed crime. And as to his words, if the words of his report were true or expedient, let him escape; but if they were at once false, venal, and disastrous, let him be convicted. {184} No greater wrong can a man do you, than is done by lying speeches. For where government is based upon speeches, how can it be carried on in security, if the speeches are not true? and if, in particular, a speaker takes bribes and speaks to further the interests of the enemy, how can you escape real danger? For to rob you of your opportunities is not the same thing as to rob an oligarchy or a tyrant. Far from it. {185} Under such governments, I imagine, everything is done promptly at a word of command. But with you the Council must first hear about everything, and pa.s.s its preliminary resolution-and even that not at any time, but only when notice has been given of the reception of heralds and emba.s.sies: then you must convoke an a.s.sembly, and that only when the time comes for one, as ordained by law: then those who speak for your true good have to master and overcome those who, through ignorance or wickedness, oppose them. {186} Besides all this, even when a measure is resolved upon, and its advantages are already plain, time must be granted to the impecuniosity of the majority, in which they may procure whatever means they require in order to be able to carry out what has been resolved. And so he who causes times so critical to be lost, in a state const.i.tuted as ours is, has not caused you to lose times, but has robbed you absolutely of the realization of your aims.

{187} Now all those who are anxious to deceive you are very ready with such expressions as 'disturbers of the city,' 'men who prevent Philip from conferring benefits on the city.' In reply to these, I will use no argument, but will read you Philip's letters, and will remind you of the occasion on which each piece of deception took place, that you may know that Philip has got beyond this exaggerated t.i.tle of 'benefactor',[n] of which we are so sickened, in his attempts to take you in by it.

[Philip's letters are read.]

{188} Now although his work as amba.s.sador has been so shameful, so detrimental to you in many-nay, in all points, he goes about asking people what they think of Demosthenes, who prosecutes his own colleagues. I prosecute you indeed, whether I would or no, because throughout our entire absence from home you plotted against me as I have said, and because now I have the choice of only two alternatives: either I must appear to share with you the responsibility for such work as yours, or I must prosecute you. {189} Nay, I deny that I was ever your colleague in the Emba.s.sy. I say that your work as amba.s.sador was an atrocious work, while my own was for the true good of those present here. It is Philocrates that has been your colleague, as you have been his, and Phrynon. For your policy was the same as theirs, and you all approved of the same objects. But 'where are the salt, the table, the libations that we shared?' So he asks everywhere in his theatrical style-as though it were not the criminals, but the upright, that were false to such pledges! {190} I am certain that though all the Prytanes offer their common sacrifice on each occasion, and join one with another in their meal and their libation, the good do not on this account copy the bad; but if they detect one of their own number in crime they report the fact to the Council and the people. In the very same way the Council offers its inaugural sacrifice and feasts together, and joins in libations and sacred rites. So do the generals, and, one may practically say, every body of magistrates. Does that mean that they grant an indemnity to any of their number who is guilty of crime? Very far from it. {191} Leon accuses Timagoras,[n] after being his fellow amba.s.sador for four years: Eubulus accuses Tharrex and Smicythus, after sharing the banquet with them: the great Conon, the elder, prosecuted Adeimantus,[n] though they were generals together. Which sinned against the salt and the libation, Aeschines-the traitors and the faithless amba.s.sadors and the hirelings, or their accusers? Plainly those who violated, as you have done, the sanct.i.ty, not of private libations, but of libations poured in the name of the whole country.

{192} That you may realize that these men have been the most worthless and wicked not only of all who have ever gone to Philip in a public capacity, but even of those who have gone as private persons, and indeed of all mankind, I ask you to listen to me while I describe briefly an incident which falls outside the story of this Emba.s.sy. When Philip took Olynthus he celebrated Olympian games, and gathered together all the artists to the sacrifice and the festal gathering. {193} And while he was entertaining them at a banquet, and crowning the victors, he asked Satyrus, the well-known comic actor, why he alone requested no favour of him. Did he see any meanness in him, or any dislike towards himself? Satyrus answered (so the story goes) that he happened to stand in no need of the things for which the rest were asking, but that the boon which he would like to ask was a favour which it would be very easy indeed for Philip to bestow; only he was afraid that he might fail to obtain it. {194} Philip bade him name his request, declaring with some spirit that there was nothing that he would not do for him. Satyrus is then said to have stated that Apollophanes of Pydna was formerly his friend and guest-friend,[n] and that when he had perished by a treacherous a.s.sa.s.sination, his kinsman had, in alarm, conveyed his daughters, then little children, to Olynthus secretly. 'These girls,' said Satyrus, 'have been taken prisoners at the capture of the city; they are with you, and they are now of marriageable age. {195} It is these girls that I beg and entreat you to give to me. But I should like you to hear and understand what sort of present you will be giving me, if you really give it. I shall gain nothing by receiving it: I shall give them in marriage, and a dowry with them, and shall not allow them to suffer anything unworthy of us or of their father.' When those who were present at the feast heard this, there was such applause and cheering and approbation on all hands, that Philip was moved and granted the request, although the Apollophanes who was spoken of was one of the murderers of Alexander, Philip's brother. {196} Now let us examine side by side with this banquet of Satyrus, that in which these men took part in Macedonia. Observe what likeness and resemblance there is between the two! For these men were invited to the house of Xenophron, the son of Phaedimus, who was one of the Thirty,[n] and went. I did not go. But when it came to the time for wine, he brought in an Olynthian woman -good-looking, but well-bred and modest, as the event proved. {197} At first, I believe (according to the account which Iatrocles gave me the next day), they only forced her to drink a little wine quietly and to eat some dessert; but as the feast proceeded and they waxed warm, they bade her recline and even sing a song. And when the poor creature, who was in great distress, neither would nor could do as they bade her, Aeschines and Phrynon declared that it was an insult and quite intolerable, that a captive woman-one of those G.o.d-forsaken devils the Olynthians-should give herself airs. 'Call a slave,' they cried, 'and let some one bring a strap.' A servant came with a lash; they had been drinking, I imagine, and were easily annoyed; and as soon as she said something and burst into tears, the servant tore open her dress and gave her a number of cuts across the back. {198} Beside herself with the pain and the sense of her position, the woman leaped up and fell before the knees of Iatrocles, overturning the table as she did so. And had he not rescued her, she would have perished as the victim of a drunken debauch; for the drunkenness of this abominable creature is something horrible.[n] The case of this woman was also mentioned in Arcadia before the Ten Thousand, and Diophantus reported to you what I shall now force him to testify; for the matter was much talked of in Thessaly and everywhere.

{199} Yet with all this on his conscience this unclean creature will dare to look you in the face, and will very soon be speaking to you of the life he has lived, in that magnificent voice of his. It chokes me to hear him! Does not the jury know how at first you used to read over the books to your mother at her initiations,[n] and wallow amid bands of drunken men at their orgies, while still a boy? {200} and how you were afterwards under-clerk to the magistrates, and played the rogue for two or three drachmae?[n] and how at last, in recent days, you thought yourself lucky to get a parasitic living in the training-rooms of others, as a third-rate actor? What then is the life of which you propose to speak? Where have you lived it? For the life which you have really lived has been what I have described. And how much does he take upon himself! He brought another man to trial here for unnatural offences! But I leave this point for the moment. (To the clerk.) First, read me these depositions.

[The depositions are read.]

{201} So many, then, and so gross, gentlemen of the jury, being the crimes against you of which he stands convicted-and what wickedness do they not include? he is corrupt, he is a minion, he is under the curse, a liar, a betrayer of his own people; all the most heinous offences are there-he will not defend himself against a single one of these charges, and will have no defence to offer that is either just or straightforward. But the statement which, I am told, he intends to make, borders on madness; though perhaps a man who has no other plea to offer must contrive anything that he can. {202} For I hear that he is to say that I, forsooth, have been a partner in everything of which I accuse him; that at first I used to approve of his policy and to act with him; and that I have suddenly changed my mind and become his accuser. As a defence of his conduct such a.s.sertions are, of course, neither legitimate nor to the point, though they do imply some kind of charge against myself; for, of course, if I have acted thus, I am a worthless person. But the conduct itself is no better for that. Far from it! {203} At the same time, I think it is proper for me to prove to you both the points in question-first, that if he makes such an a.s.sertion he will be lying; and secondly, what is the just line of defence. Now a just and straightforward defence must show either that the acts charged against him were not committed, or that having been committed, they are to the advantage of the city. {204} But Aeschines cannot do either of these things. For I presume that it is not possible for him to say that it is to the advantage of the city that the Phocians have been ruined, that Thermopylae is in Philip's hands, that Thebes is powerful, that there are soldiers in Euboea and plotting against Megara, and that the Peace should not have been sworn to,[n] when on the former occasion he announced the very contrary of all these things to you in the guise of advantages, and advantages about to be realized? Nor will he be able to persuade you that these things have not been done, when you yourselves have seen them and know the facts well. {205} It remains for me, therefore, to show you that I have had no share in any of their proceedings. Shall I then dismiss everything else from consideration-all that I have said against them in your presence, all my collisions with them during our absence, all my antagonism to them from first to last-and produce my opponents themselves as witnesses to the fact that my conduct and theirs have been absolutely contrary the one to the other-that they have taken money to your detriment, and that I refused to receive it? Then mark what I say.

{206} Who, would you say, was of all men in Athens the most offensive, most overflowing with effrontery and contemptuousness? I am sure that none of you, even by mistake, would name any other than Philocrates. And who, would you say, possessed the loudest voice and could enunciate whatever he pleased most clearly? Aeschines the defendant, I am sure. Who is it then that these men describe as cowardly and timid before a crowd, while I call him cautious? It is myself; for I have never annoyed you or forced myself upon you against your will. {207} Now at every meeting of the a.s.sembly, as often as a discussion has arisen upon these subjects, you hear me accusing and convicting these men, declaring explicitly that they have taken money and have sold all the interests of the city. And not one of them has ever to this day contradicted the statement, when he heard it, or opened his mouth, or shown himself. {208} What then is the reason, why the most offensive men in the city, the men with the loudest voices, are so cowed before me, the timidest of men, whose voice is no louder than any other? It is because Truth is strong; while to them, on the other hand, the consciousness of having sold public interests is a source of weakness. It is this that steals away the boldness of these men, this that binds down their tongues and stops their mouths-chokes them, and makes them silent. {209} You remember, of course, how at the recent meeting in the Peiraeus, when you would not have him for your representative,[n] he was shouting that he would impeach me and indict me, and crying, 'Oh! Oh!' But such steps are the beginning of long and numerous trials and speeches; whereas the alternative was but to utter perhaps two or three words, which even a slave purchased yesterday could have p.r.o.nounced-'Men of Athens, this is utterly atrocious. Demosthenes is accusing me here of crimes in which he himself was a partner; he says that I have taken money, when he has taken money, or shared it, himself.' {210} But no such words, no such sound, did he utter, nor did one of you hear him do so; he only uttered threats to a different effect. And why? Because he knew that he had done what he was charged with doing; he was abjectly afraid to use any such expressions; his resolution could not rise to them, but shrank back; for it was in the grip of his conscience; whereas there was nothing to hinder him from uttering irrelevant abuse and slander. {211} But here is the strongest proof of all, and it consists not in words, but in fact. For when I was anxious to do what it was right to do, namely, to make a second report to you, after serving a second time as amba.s.sador, Aeschines came before the Board of Auditors with a number of witnesses, and forbade them to call me before the court, since I had rendered my account already, and was no longer liable to give it. The incident was extremely ridiculous. And what was the meaning of it? He had made his report with reference to the First Emba.s.sy, against which no one brought any charge, and did not wish to go before the court again with regard to the Second Emba.s.sy, with reference to which he now appears before you, and within which all his crimes fell. {212} But if I came before you twice, it became necessary for him also to appear again; and so he tried to prevent them from summoning me. But this action of his, men of Athens, plainly proves to you two things-first, that he had so condemned himself that none of you can now acquit him without impiety; and secondly, that he will not speak a word of truth about me. Had he anything true to a.s.sert, he would have been found a.s.serting it and accusing me then; he would certainly not have tried to prevent my being summoned. {213} To prove the truth of what I say, (to the clerk) call me the witnesses to the facts.

But further, if he makes slanderous statements against me which have nothing to do with the Emba.s.sy, there are many good reasons for your refusing to listen to him. For I am not on my trial to-day, and when I have finished my speech I have no further time allotted to me.[n] What can such statements mean, except that he is bankrupt of legitimate arguments? For who that was on his trial and had any defence to make, would prefer to accuse another? {214} And consider also this further point, gentlemen of the jury. If I were on my trial, with the defendant Aeschines for accuser and Philip for judge; and if, being unable to disprove my guilt, I abused Aeschines and tried to sully his character, do you not think that Philip would be indignant at the very fact of a man abusing his benefactors in his own presence? Do not you then prove worse than Philip; but force Aeschines to defend himself against the charges which are the subject of the trial. (To the clerk.) Read the deposition.

[The deposition is read.]

{215} So for my part, because I had nothing on my conscience, I felt it my duty to render an account and submit all the information that the laws required, while the defendant took the opposite view. How then can his conduct and mine have been the same? or how can he possibly a.s.sert against me now things of which he has never even accused me before? It is surely impossible. And yet he will a.s.sert these things, and, Heaven knows, it is natural enough. For you doubtless know well that ever since the human race began and trials were inst.i.tuted, no one was ever convicted admitting his crime: they brazen it out, they deny it, they lie, they make up excuses, they take every means to escape paying the penalty. {216} You must not let any of these devices mislead you to-day; your judgement must be given upon the facts, in the light of your own knowledge; you must not attend to words, whether mine or his, still less to the witnesses whom he will have ready to testify anything, since he has Philip to pay his expenses -you will see how glibly they will give evidence for him; nor must you care whether his voice is fine and loud, or whether mine is poor. {217} For it is no trial of orators or of speeches that you have to hold to-day, if you are wise men. You have rather, in the name of a cause shamefully and terribly ruined, to thrust off the present disgrace on to the shoulders of the guilty, after a scrutiny of those results which are known to you all. {218} And these results, which you know and do not require us to tell you of-what are they? If the consequences of the Peace have been all that they promised you; if you admit that you were so filled with an unmanly cowardice, that, though the enemy was not in your land, though you were not blockaded by sea, though your city was menaced by no other danger whatever, though, on the contrary, the price of corn was low and you were in other respects as well off as you are to-day, {219} though you knew beforehand on the information of these men that your allies were about to be ruined and Thebes to become powerful, that Philip was about to occupy the Thracian strongholds and to establish a basis of operations against you in Euboea, and that all that has now happened was about to come to pa.s.s, you nevertheless made peace cheerfully;-if that is so, then acquit Aeschines, and do not add perjury to all your disgrace. For in that case he is guilty of no crime against you; it is I that am mad and brainsick to accuse him now. {220} But if what they told you was altogether the reverse of this, if it was a tale of great generosity-of Philip's love for Athens, of his intention to save the Phocians, to check the insolence of the Thebans, and beside all this (if he obtained the Peace) to confer on you benefits that would more than compensate for Amphipolis, and to restore to you Euboea and Oropus; if, I say, they stated and promised all this, and have now totally deceived and cheated you, and have all but robbed you of Attica itself, then condemn him, and do not, in addition to all the outrages-I know not what other word to use-that you have suffered, carry with you to your homes, through upholding their corruption, the curse and the guilt of perjury.

{221} Again, gentlemen of the jury, ask yourselves what reason I could have had for choosing to accuse these men, if they had done no wrong? You will find none. Is it pleasant to have many enemies? Pleasant? It is not even safe. Was there any quarrel between me and Aeschines? None. What then? 'You were afraid for yourself, and in your cowardice thought to save yourself this way:' for that, I have heard, is what he says. What? I was afraid, when, according to your own statement, there was nothing to be afraid of, and no crime had been committed? If he repeats such an a.s.sertion, men of Athens, consider[n] what these men themselves, the actual criminals, ought to suffer for their offences, if I, who am absolutely guiltless, was afraid of being ruined owing to them. {222} But what is my motive for accusing you? I am an informer, of course, and want to get money out of you![n] And which was the easier course for me-to get money out of Philip, who offered a large sum-to get as much as any of these men, and to have not only Philip for my friend, but also my opponents (for they would a.s.suredly have been friends, had I been partner with them, since even now they have no inherited quarrel against me, but only the fact that I refused to join in their actions); or to beg them for a share of their gains, and be regarded with hostility both by Philip and by them? Is it likely that when I was ransoming the prisoners at such cost to myself, I should ask to receive a paltry sum from these men, in a disgraceful manner and with their enmity accompanying it? {223} Impossible! My report was true. I abstained from taking money for the sake of justice and truth and my own future. For I thought, as others among you have thought, that my own uprightness would receive its reward, and that I must not barter my ambition to stand well with you for gain of any kind. And I abhor these men, because I saw that they were vile and impious in the conduct of their mission, and because I have been robbed of the objects of my own ambition, owing to their corruption, now that you have come to be vexed with the Emba.s.sy as a whole. And it is because I foresee what must happen that I now accuse him, and appear to challenge his report; for I would have it decided here, in a trial before a jury, that my conduct has been the opposite of his. {224} And I am afraid-afraid, I say, for I will speak all my mind to you-that though when the time comes you may drag me in spite of my entire innocence to the same ruin with them, you are now utterly supine. For, men of Athens, you appear to me to be altogether unstrung, waiting to suffer the horrors which others are suffering before your eyes, and taking no precautions, no thought for the city, which for so long has been exposed to destruction in many a dreadful form. {225} Is it not, think you, dreadful and preternatural? For even where I had resolved upon silence, I am driven to speak. You doubtless know Pythocles here, the son of Pythodorus. I had been on very kindly terms with him, and to this day there has been no unpleasantness between us. He avoids me now, when he meets me-ever since he visited Philip-and if he is obliged to encounter me anywhere, he starts away immediately, lest any one should see him talking with me. But with Aeschines he walks all round the marketplace, discussing their plans. {226} Now is it not a terrible and shocking thing, men of Athens, that those who have made it their choice to foster Philip's interests should be able to rely upon so accurate a discrimination on Philip's part, that all that any one of them does here can no more be hid from Philip (so they believe) than if he were standing by their side, and that his friends and foes alike are those that Philip chooses; while those whose life is lived for your good, who are greedy of honour at your hands, and have not betrayed you, should be met by such deafness, such blindness, on your part, that to-day I have to wrestle with these devils incarnate on equal terms, and that before you, who know the whole truth? {227} Would you know or hear the cause of these things? I will tell you, and I beg that none of you be angry with me for speaking the truth. It is, I imagine, that Philip has but one body and one soul, and it is with all his heart that he cherishes those who do him good and detests those who do him evil: whereas each of you, in the first place, has no feeling that the good or the evil which is being done to the city, is being done to himself; {228} other feelings are of more consequence, and often lead you astray-pity, envy, anger, favour towards the suppliant, and an infinite number of other motives: while if a man has actually escaped all these, he will still not escape from those who do not want such a man to exist at all. And so the error due to each of these single causes steals on little by little, till the state is exposed to the whole acc.u.mulated mischief.

{229} Do not fall victims to any such error to-day, men of Athens: do not let the defendant go, when he has done you all this wrong. For honestly, if you let him go, what will be said of you? 'Certain men,' it will be said, 'went as amba.s.sadors to Philip yonder-Philocrates, Aeschines, Phrynon, and Demosthenes; and, what happened? One of them not only gained nothing by his mission, but ransomed the prisoners at his private expense; another, with the money for which he sold the interests of his country, went about purchasing harlots and fish. {230} One of them, the abominable Phrynon, sent his son to Philip before he had registered him as an adult; the other did nothing unworthy of himself or his city. One, though serving as ch.o.r.egus and trierarch,[n] felt it his duty voluntarily to incur that further expense [to ransom the prisoners] rather than see any of his fellow citizens suffering misfortune for want of means; the other, so far from rescuing any of those who were already in captivity, joined in bringing a whole district, and more than 10,000 infantry and 1,000 cavalry with them, the forces of the actual allies of his country, into captivity to Philip. What followed? {231} When the Athenians got them into their hands (for they had long known the truth) what did they do? They let go the men who had received bribes and had disgraced themselves, and their city, and their children; they thought that these were wise men, and that all was well[n] with the city; and as for their accuser, they thought him thunderstruck-a man who did not understand his country, and did not know where to fling his money away.' {232} And who, men of Athens, with this example before his eyes, will be willing to offer you his honest service? who will act as amba.s.sador for nothing, if he is not only to gain nothing by it, but is not to be more trustworthy in your eyes than those who have taken money? You are not only trying these men to-day, but you are laying down a law for all future time-a law which will declare whether your amba.s.sadors are to serve the enemy for a price, or to act disinterestedly for your true good and to take no bribe? {233} On all the other points you require no evidence; but to prove that Phrynon sent his son, (to the clerk) call me the witnesses to the facts.

Aeschines then did not prosecute Phrynon, for sending his own son to Philip for a disgraceful purpose. But because a man, who in his youth was above the average in appearance, did not foresee the suspicion which his good looks might entail, and afterwards lived a somewhat fast life, he has prosec