On the Crown (46-50)

In the result, of course, the excessive and inopportune apathy of the common people has been punished by the loss of their independence, while their leaders, who fancied they were selling everything except themselves, discover too late that their own liberty was the first thing they sold. Instead of the name of trusty friend, in which they rejoiced when they were taking their bribes, they are dubbed toad-eaters and scoundrels, and other suitable epithets. What did they expect?

Men of Athens, it is not because he wants to do a traitor a good turn that a man spends his money; nor, when he has once got what he paid for, has he any further use for the traitor’s counsels. Otherwise treason would be the most profitable of all trades. But it is not so. How could it be? Far from it! As soon as the man who grasps at power has achieved his purpose, he is the master of those who sold him his mastery; and then—yes, then!—knowing their baseness, he loathes them, mistrusts them, and reviles them.

Look at these instances, because, though the right time for action is past, for wise men it is always the right time to understand history. Lasthenes was hailed as friend—until he betrayed Olynthus; Timolaus, until he brought Thebes to ruin; Eudicus and Simus of Larissa, until they put Thessaly under Philip’s heel. Since then the whole world has become crowded with men exiled, insulted, punished in every conceivable way. What of Aristratus at Sicyon? or Perilaus[*] at Megara? Are they not outcasts?

From these examples it may be clearly discerned that the man who is most vigilant in defence of his country and most vigorous in his opposition to treason—he is the man, Aeschines, who provides you traitors and mercenaries with something that you can betray for a bribe; and, if you are still secure and still drawing your pay, you owe this to the great majority of these citizens, and to those who thwarted your purposes—for your own efforts would long ago have brought you to destruction.

I could say much more about the history of that time, but I suppose that what has been said is more than enough. My antagonist is to blame, for he has so bespattered me with the sour dregs of his own knavery and his own crimes, that I was obliged to clear myself in the eyes of men too young to remember those transactions. But it has perhaps been wearisome to you, who, before I said a word, knew all about his venality.