On the Embassy (311-315)

And so today you have no need to send a mission to Peloponnesus, to make a long journey, or to pay travelling expenses; you have only to advance one by one to this platform, and there cast a just and a righteous vote for your country’s sake against the man who, having at the outset, as I described to you, spoken so eloquently about Marathon and Salamis, about battles and victories, from the moment he set foot on Macedonian soil contradicted his own utterances, forbade you to remember the example of your forefathers, or recall old victories, or carry succor to your friends, or take common counsel with the Greeks, and well-nigh bade you to dismantle the defences of your city.

No more disgraceful speeches have ever been made in your hearing during the whole course of your history. Lives there a man, Greek or barbarian, so boorish, so unversed in history, or so ill-disposed to our commonwealth that, if he were asked the question, Tell me, in all the country that we call Greece and inhabit today, is there an acre that would still bear that name, or remain the home of the Greeks who now possess it, if the heroes of Marathon and Salamis, our forefathers, had not in their defence performed those glorious deeds of valor, is there one man who would not make reply: No; the whole country would have become the prey of the barbarian invaders?

Even among your foes there is not a man who would despoil those heroes of their meed of praise and gratitude; and does an Aeschines forbid you, their own descendants, to commemorate their names—all for the sake of his miserable bribes? There are indeed rewards in which the dead have no part or lot; but the praise that waits on glorious achievements is the peculiar guerdon of those who have gloriously died—for then jealousy is no longer their adversary. Let the man who would rob the dead of their reward be stripped of his own honors: that retribution you will levy on him for your forefathers’ sake. By those speeches of yours, you reprobate, you made havoc of our policy, traducing and disparaging with your tongue the achievements of our forefathers.

And from these performances you emerge a land-owner, a person of high consideration! Take another point. Before he did all that mischief to the commonwealth, he used to admit that he had been a clerk; he was grateful to you for his appointments; his demeanor was quite modest. But since he has perpetrated wrongs without number, he has become mightily supercilious. If a man speaks of Aeschines, the man who was once a clerk, he makes a private quarrel of it, and talks of defamation of character. Behold him pacing the market-place with the stately stride of Pythocles, his long robe reaching to his ankles, his cheeks puffed out, as who should say, One of Philip’s most intimate friends, at your service! He has joined the clique that wants to get rid of democracy,—that regards the established political order as an inconstant wave,—mere midsummer madness. And once he made obeisance to the Rotunda![*]

Now I wish by a brief recapitulation to remind you of the manner in which Philip discomfited your policy with these scoundrels as his confederates. It is well worth while to examine and contemplate the whole imposition. At the outset he was really desirous of peace, for his whole country was overrun by banditti, and his ports were blockaded, so that he got no advantage from all his wealth. Accordingly he sent those envoys who addressed you in his name with so much courtesy—Neoptolemus, Aristodemus, and Ctesiphon.