On the Mysteries (46-Proof)

Now first of all I want those of you who witnessed all this to picture it once more and describe it to those who did not. Next I will ask the clerk to call the Prytanes in office at the time, Philocrates and his colleagues.

Witnesses

And now I am also going to read you the names of those denounced by Diocleides, so that you may see how many relatives of mine he tried to ruin. First there was my father, and then my brother-in-law; my father he had represented as in the secret, while he had alleged that my brother-in-law’s house was the scene of the meeting. The names of the rest you shall hear. Read them out to the court.

Charmides, son of Aristoteles.

Taureas.

Nisaeus.

Callias, son of Alcmaeon.

Euphemus.

Phrynichus, son of Orchesamenus.

Eucrates.

Critias.

All of these appeared among the last forty on Diocleides’ list.

We were all thrown into one prison. Darkness fell, and the gates were shut. Mothers, sisters, wives, and children had gathered. Nothing was to be heard save the cries and moans of grief-stricken wretches bewailing the calamity which had overtaken them. In the midst of it all, Charmides, a cousin of my own age who had been brought up with me in my own home since boyhood, said to me:

You see the utter hopelessness of our position, Andocides. I have never yet wished to say anything which might distress you: but now our plight leaves me no choice. Your friends and associates outside the family have all been subjected to the charges which are now to prove our own undoing: and half of them have been put to death,—while the other half have admitted their guilt by going into exile.[*]

I beg of you: if you have heard anything concerning this affair, disclose it. Save yourself: save your father, who must be dearer to you than anyone in the world: save your brother-in-law, the husband of your only sister: save all those others who are bound to you by ties of blood and family: and lastly, save me, who have never vexed you in my life and who am ever ready to do anything for you and your good.

At this appeal from Charmides, gentlemen, which was echoed by the rest, who each addressed their entreaties to me in turn, I thought to myself: Never, oh, never has a man found himself in a more terrible strait than I. Am I to look on while my own kindred perish for a crime which they have not committed: while they themselves are put to death and their goods are confiscated: nay more, while the names of persons entirely innocent of the deed which has been done are inscribed upon stones of record as the names of men accursed in the sight of heaven? Am I to pay no heed to three hundred Athenians who are to be wrongfully put to death, to the desperate plight of Athens, to the suspicions of citizen for citizen? Or am I to reveal to my countrymen the story told me by the true criminal, Euphiletus?[*]

Then a further thought struck me, gentlemen. I reminded myself that a number of the offenders responsible for the mutilation had already been executed upon the information lodged by Teucrus, while yet others had escaped into exile and been sentenced to death in their absence. In fact, there remained only four of the criminals whose names had not been divulged by Teucrus: Panaetius, Chaeredemus, Diacritus, and Lysistratus;

and it was only natural to assume that they had been among the first to be denounced by Diocleides, as they were friends of those who had already been put to death. It was thus still doubtful whether they would escape: but it was certain that my own kindred would perish, unless Athens learned the truth. So I decided that it was better to cut off from their country four men who richly deserved it—men alive today and restored to home and property—than to let those others go to a death which they had done nothing whatever to deserve.

If, then, any of you yourselves, gentlemen, or any of the public at large has ever been possessed with the notion that I informed against my associates with the object of purchasing my own life at the price of theirs—a tale invented by my enemies, who wished to present me in the blackest colours—use the facts themselves as evidence;

for today not only is it incumbent upon me to give a faithful account of myself—I am in the presence, remember, of the actual offenders who went into exile after committing the crime which we are discussing; they know better than anyone whether I am lying or not, and they have my permission to interrupt me and prove that what I am saying is untrue—but it is no less incumbent upon you to discover what truly happened.

I say this, gentlemen, because the chief task confronting me in this trial is to prevent anyone thinking the worse of me on account of my escape: to make first you and then the whole world understand that the explanation of my behaviour from start to finish lay in the desperate plight of Athens and, to a lesser degree, in that of my own family, not in any lack of principles or courage: to make you understand that, in disclosing that Euphiletus had told me, I was actuated solely by my concern for my relatives and friends and by my concern for the state as a whole, motives which I for one consider not a disgrace but a credit. If this proves to be the truth of the matter, I think it only my due that I should be acquitted with my good name unimpaired.

Come now, in considering a case, a judge should make allowances for human shortcomings, gentlemen, as he would do, were he in the same plight himself. What would each of you have done? Had the choice lain between dying a noble death and preserving my life at the cost of my honour, my behaviour might well be described as base—though many would have made exactly the same choice; they would rather have remained alive than have died like heroes.

But the alternatives before me were precisely the opposite. On the other hand, if I remained silent, I myself died in disgrace for an act of impiety which I had not comitted, and I allowed my father, my brother-in-law, and a host of my relatives and cousins to perish in addition. Yes, I, and I alone, was sending them to their death, if I refused to say that others were to blame; for Diocleides had thrown them into prison by his lies, and they could only be rescued if their countrymen were put in full possession of the facts; therefore I became their murderer if I refused to tell what I had heard. Besides this, I was causing three hundred citizens to perish; while the plight of Athens was growing desperate.

That is what silence meant. On the other hand, by revealing the truth I saved my own life, I saved my father, I saved the rest of my family, and I freed Athens from the panic which was working such havoc. True, I was sending four men into exile; but all four were guilty. And for the others, who had already been denounced by Teucrus, I am sure that none of them, whether dead or in exile, was one whit the worse off for any disclosures of mine.

Taking all this into consideration, gentlemen, I found that the least objectionable of the courses open to me was to tell the truth as quickly as possible, to prove that Diocleides had lied, and so to punish the scoundrel who was causing us to be put to death wrongfully and imposing upon the public, while in return he was being hailed as a supreme benefactor and rewarded for his services.

I therefore informed the Council that I knew the offenders, and showed exactly what had occurred. The idea, I said, had been suggested by Euphiletus at a drinking-party; but I opposed it, and succeeded in preventing its execution for the time being. Later, however, I was thrown from a colt of mine in Cynosarges[*]; I broke my collar-bone and fractured my skull, and had to be taken home on a litter.

When Euphiletus saw my condition, he informed the others that I had consented to join them and had promised him to mutilate the Hermes next to the shrine of Phorbas[*] as my share in the escapade. He told them this to hoodwink them; and that is why the Hermes which you can all see standing close to the home of our family, the Hermes dedicated by the Aegeid tribe, was the only one in Athens unmutilated, it being understood that I would attend to it as Euphiletus had promised.

When the others learned the truth, they were furious to think that I was in the secret without having taken any active part; and the next day I received a visit from Meletus[*] and Euphiletus. We have managed it all right, Andocides, they told me. Now if you will consent to keep quiet and say nothing, you will find us just as good friends as before. If you do not, you will find that you have been much more successful at making enemies of us than at making fresh friends by turning traitor to us.

I replied that I certainly thought Euphiletus a scoundrel for acting as he had; although he and his companions had far less to fear from my being in the secret than from the mere fact that the deed was done.

I supported this account by handing over my slave for torture, to prove that I was ill at the time in question and had not even left my bed; and the Prytanes arrested the women-servants in the house which the criminals had used as their base.

The Council and the commission of inquiry went into the matter closely, and when at length they found that it was as I said and that the witnesses corroborated me without exception, they summoned Diocleides. He, however, made a long cross-examination unnecessary by admitting at once that he had been lying, and begged that he might be pardoned if he disclosed who had induced him to tell his story; the culprits, he said, were Alcibiades of Phegus[*] and Amiantus of Aegina.

Alcibiades and Amiantus fled from the country in terror; and when you heard the facts yourselves, you handed Diocleides over to the court and put him to death. You released the prisoners awaiting execution—my relatives, who owed their escape to me alone—you welcomed back the exiles, and yourselves shouldered arms[*] and dispersed, freed from grave danger and distress.

Not only do the circumstances in which I here found myself entitle me to the sympathy of all, gentlemen, but my conduct can leave you in no doubt about my integrity. When Euphiletus suggested that we pledge ourselves to what was the worst possible treachery, I opposed him, I attacked him, I heaped on him the scorn which he deserved. Yet once his companions had committed the crime, I kept their secret; it was Teucrus who lodged the information which led to their death or exile, before we had been thrown into prison by Diocleides or were threatened with death. After our imprisonment I denounced four persons: Panaetius, Diacritus, Lysistratus, and Chaeredemus.

I was responsible for the exile of these four, I admit; but I saved my father, my brother-in-law, three cousins, and seven other relatives,[*] all of whom were about to be put to death wrongfully; they owe it to me that they are still looking on the light of day, and they are the first to acknowledge it. In addition, the scoundrel who had thrown the whole of Athens into chaos and endangered her very existence was exposed; and your own suspense and suspicions of one another were at an end.

Now recollect whether what I have been saying is true, gentlemen; and if you know the facts, make them clear to those who do not. Next I will ask the clerk to call the persons who owed their release to me; no one knows what happened better than they, and no one can give the court a better account of it. The position, then, is this, gentlemen: they will address you from the platform for as long as you care to listen to them; then, when you are satisfied, I will proceed to the remainder of my defence.

Witnesses

You now know exactly what took place at the time, I for one think that I have given all the explanations necessary. However, should any of you wish to hear more or think that any point has not been dealt with satisfactorily, or should I have omitted anything, has only to rise and mention it, and I will reply to his inquiry as well. Otherwise, I will proceed to explain the legal position to you.

Admittedly, Cephisius here conformed with the law as it stands in lodging his information against me; but he is resting his case upon an old decree, moved by Isotimides,[*] which does not concern me at all. Isotimides proposed to exclude from temples all who had committed an act of impiety and admitted their guilt. I have done neither: I have not committed any act of impiety, nor have I admitted guilt.

Further, I will prove to you that the decree in question has been repealed and is void. I shall be adopting a dangerous line of defence here, I know; if I fail to convince you, I shall myself be the sufferer, and if I succeed in convincing you, I shall have cleared my opponents.[*] However, the truth shall be told.

After the loss of your fleet and the investment of Athens[*] you discussed ways and means of re-uniting the city. As a result you decided to reinstate those who had lost their civic rights, a resolution moved by Patrocleides. Now who were the disfranchised, and what were their different disabilities? I will explain.[*]

First, state-debtors. All who had been condemned on their accounts when vacating a public office, all who had been condemned as judgement-debtors,[*] all those fined in a public action or under the summary jurisdiction of a magistrate, all who farmed taxes and then defaulted or were liable to the state as sureties for a defaulter,[*] had to pay within eight Prytanies; otherwise, the sum due was doubled and the delinquent’s property distrained upon.[*]

Such was one form of disfranchisement. According to a second, delinquents lost all personal rights, but retained possession of their property. This class included all persons convicted of theft or of accepting bribes—it was laid down that both they and their descendants should lose their personal rights. Similarly, all who deserted on the field of battle, who were found guilty of evasion of military service, of cowardice, or of withholding a ship from action,[*] all who threw away their shields, or were thrice convicted of giving perjured evidence or of falsely endorsing a summons,[*] or who were found guilty of maltreating their parents, were deprived of their personal rights, while retaining possession of their property.

Others again had their rights curtailed in specified directions; they were only partially, not wholly, disfranchised. The soldiers who remained in Athens under the Four Hundred are a case in point.[*] They enjoyed all the rights of ordinary citizens, except that they were forbidden to speak in the Assembly or become members of the Council. They lost their rights in these two respects, because in their case the limited disability took this particular form.

Others were deprived of the right of bringing an indictment, or of lodging an information: others of sailing up the Hellespont, or of crossing to Ionia: while yet others were specifically debarred from entering the Agora.

You enacted, then, that both the originals and all extant copies of these several decrees should be cancelled, and your differences ended by an exchange of pledges on the Acropolis. Kindly read the decree of Patrocleides whereby this was effected.[*]

Decree.—On the motion of Patrocleides: whereas the Athenians have enacted that persons disfranchised and public debtors may speak and propose measures in the Assembly with impunity, the People shall pass the decree which was passed at the time of the Persian Wars and which proved of benefit to Athens. As touching such of those registered with the Superintendents of Revenue, the Treasurers of Athena and the other Deities, or the Basileus, as had not been removed from the register before the last sitting of the Council in the archonship of Callias,[*]:

all who before that date had been disfranchised as debtors: or had been found guilty of maladministration by the Auditors and their assessors at the Auditors’ offices: or had been indicted for maladministration, but had not as yet been publicly tried: or 〈had been condemned to suffer〉 specific disabilities: or had been condemned as sureties for a defaulter; and all who were recorded as members of the Four Hundred: or who had recorded against them any act performed under the oligarchy—alway excepting those publicly recorded as fugitives: those who have been tried for homicide by the Areopagus, or by the Ephetae, whether sitting at the Pryaneum or the Delphinium, under the Presidency of the Basileus, and are now in exile or under sentence of death[*]: and those guilty of massacre or attempted tyranny—

shall one and all have their names everywhere cancelled by the Superintendents of Revenue and by the Council in accordance with the foregoing, wherever any public record of their offence be found; and any copies of such records which anywhere exist shall be produced by the Thesmothetae and other magistrates. This shall be done within three days after the consent of the People has been given. And no one shall secretly retain a copy of those records which it has been decided to cancel, nor shall he at any time make malicious reference to the past. He who does so shall be liable to the punishment of fugitives from the court of the Areopagus[*]: to the end that the Athenians may live in all security both now and hereafter.

By this decree you reinstated those who had lost their rights; but neither the proposal of Patrocleides nor your own enactment contained any reference to a restoration of exiles. However, after you had come to terms with Sparta and demolished your walls, you allowed your exiles to return too.[*] Then the Thirty came into power, and there followed the occupation of Phyle and Munychia, and those terrible struggles which I am loath to recall either to myself or to you.

After your return from Peiraeus[*] you resolved to let bygones be bygones, in spite of the opportunity for revenge. You considered the safety of Athens of more importance than the settlement of private scores; so both sides, you decided, were to forget the past. Accordingly, you elected a commission of twenty to govern Athens until a fresh code of laws had been authorized; during the interval the code of Solon and the statutes of Draco were to be in force.

However, after you had chosen a Council by lot and elected Nomothetae,[*] you began to discover that there were not a few of the laws of Solon and Draco under which numbers of citizens were liable, owing to previous events. You therefore called a meeting of the Assembly to discuss the difficulty, and as a result enacted that the whole of the laws should be revised and that such as were approved should be inscribed the Portico.[*] Kindly read the decree.

Decree.—On the motion of Teisamenus[*] the People decreed that Athens be governed as of old, in accordance with the laws of Solon, his weights and his measures, and in accordance with the statutes of Draco, which we used aforetime. Such further laws as may be necessary shall be inscribed upon tables by the Nomothetae elected by the Council and named hereafter, exposed before the Tribal Statutes for all to see, and handed over to the magistrates during the present month.

The laws thus handed over, however, shall be submitted beforehand to the scrutiny of the Council and the five hundred Nomothetae elected by the Demes, when they have taken their oath. Further, any private citizen who so desires may come before the Council and suggest improvements in the laws. When the laws have been ratified, they shall be placed under the guardianship of the Council of the Areopagus, to the end that only such laws as have been ratified may be applied by magistrates. Those laws which are approved shall be inscribed upon the wall, where they were inscribed aforetime, for all to see.

There was a revision of the laws, gentlemen, in obedience to this decree, and such as were approved were inscribed in the Portico. When this had been done, we passed a law which is universally enforced. Kindly read it.

Law.—In no circumstances shall magistrates enforce a law which has not been inscribed.

Is any loophole left here? Can a single suit be brought before a jury by a magistrate or set in motion by one of you, save under the laws inscribed? Then if it is illegal to enforce a law which has not been inscribed, there can surely be no question of enforcing a decree which has not been inscribed.

Now when we saw that a great many citizens had been placed in a serious position either by previous laws or by previous decrees, we enacted the laws which follow as a safeguard against the very thing which is now going on; we wished to prevent anything of the kind happening, that is to say, and to make it impossible for anyone to prosecute from malice. Kindly read the laws.

Laws.—In no circumstances shall magistrates enforce a law which has not been inscribed. No decree, whether of the Council or Assembly, shall override a law. No law shall be directed against an individual without applying to all citizens alike, unless an Assembly of six thousand so resolve by secret ballot.[*]

What was needed to complete the list? Only the following law, which I will ask the clerk to read to you.

Law.—All decisions given in private suits and by arbitrators under the democracy shall be valid. But of the laws only those passed since the archonship of Eucleides[*] shall be enforced.

The validity of decisions given in private suits and by arbitrators under the democracy you upheld, gentlemen; and you did so to avoid the cancelling of debts and the reopening of such suits, and to ensure the enforcement of private contracts. On the other hand, in the matter of public offences dealt with by indictment, denunciation, information, or arrest, you enacted that only such laws should be enforced as had been passed since the archonship of Eucleides.

Now you decided that the laws were to be revised and afterwards inscribed that in no circumstances were magistrates to enforce a law which had not been inscribed: that no decree, whether of the Council or the Assembly, was to override a law: that no law might be directed against an individual without applying to all citizens alike: and that only such laws as had been passed since the archonship of Eucleides were to be enforced. In view of this, can any decree passed before the archonship of Eucleides, whatever its importance or unimportance, still remain in force? I for one think not, gentlemen. Just consider the matter for yourselves.

And now, what of your oaths? First, the oath in which the whole city joined, the oath which you swore one and all after the reconciliation:. . . and I will harbour no grievance against any citizen, save only the Thirty, the Ten,[*] and the Eleven: and even of them against none who shall consent to render account of his office. After swearing to forgive even the Thirty, whom you had to thank for sufferings untold, provided that they rendered account of themselves, you can have been in very little hurry to harbour grievances against the ordinary citizen. Again, what is the oath sworn by the Council when it takes office?

. . . and I will allow no information or arrest arising out of past events, save only in the case of those who fled from Athens.[*] And what is your own oath as jurors, gentlemen?. . . and I will harbour no grievance and submit to no influence, but will give my verdict in accordance with the laws in force at the present time. Let those oaths help you to decide whether I am right when I say that I am championing yourselves and the laws.

And now, gentlemen, consider how my accusers stand with regard to the laws. They are prosecuting others; but what is their own position? Cephisius here purchased from the state the right to collect certain public rents, and obtained thereby a return of ninety minae from the farmers occupying the lands concerned. He then defaulted; and since he would have been placed in close confinement had he appeared in Athens

—it being laid down by law that any defaulting tax farmer may be so punished by the Council—he retired into exile. Owing, however, to the fact that you decided to apply only those laws passed since the archonship of Eucleides, Cephisius considers himself entitled to keep his profits from your lands. He is no longer an exile, but a citizen: no longer an outcast without rights, but an informer—and all because you are applying only the revised laws.

Then there is Meletus here. Meletus arrested Leon[*] under the Thirty, as you all know; and Leon was put to death without a trial. But we find it laid down that there shall be no distinction between the principal who plans a crime and the agent who commits it; the law not only existed in the past, but still exists and is still enforced because of its fairness. Quite so; but Leon’s sons cannot prosecute Meletus for murder, because only laws passed since the archonship of Eucleides can be enforced. The fact of the arrest, of course, is not denied, even by Meletus himself.[*]

Then Epichares here, an utter blackguard, and proud of it, a man who does his best not to let his own bygones be bygones—friend Epichares served on the Council under the Thirty. And yet what does the law upon the stone in front of the Council-chamber say? Whosoever shall hold a public office after the suppression of the democracy may be slain with impunity. No taint shall rest upon his slayer, and he shall possess the goods of the slain. Thus as far as Solon’s law is concerned, Epichares, it is clear that anyone can kill you here and now without defiling his hands.

Kindly read the law from the stone

Law.—[*] Enacted by the Council and People. Prytany of the tribe Aeantis. Secretary: Cleigenes. President: Boethus. The enactment following was framed by Demophantus and his colleagues. The date of this decree is the first sitting of the Council of Five Hundred, chosen by lot, at which Cleigenes acted as Secretary.
If anyone shall suppress the democracy at Athens or hold public office after its suppression, he shall become a public enemy and be slain with impunity; his goods shall be confiscated and a tithe given to the Goddess.

No sin shall he commit, no defilement shall he suffer who slays such an one or who conspires to slay him. And all the Athenians shall take oath by tribes and by demes over a sacrifice without blemish to slay such an one. And this shall be the oath: If it be in my power, I will slay by word and by deed, by my vote and by my hand, whosoever shall suppress the democracy at Athens, whosoever shall hold any public office after its suppression, and whosoever shall attempt to become tyrant or shall help to instal a tyrant. And if another shall slay such an one, I will deem him to be without sin in the eyes of the gods and powers above, as having slain a public enemy. And I will sell all the goods of the slain and will give over one half to the slayer, and will withhold nothing from him.

And if anyone shall lose his life in slaying such an one or in attempting to slay him, I will show to him and to his children the kindness which was shown to Harmodius and Aristogeiton and to their children. And all oaths sworn at Athens or in the army[*] or elsewhere for the overthrow of the Athenian democracy I annul and abolish. All the Athenians shall take this oath over a sarifice without blemish, as the law enjoins, before the Dionysia. And they shall pray that he who observes this oath may be blessed abundantly: but that he who observes it not may perish from the earth, both he and his house.

Well, Mr. Informer, is this law in force? Yes or no, you practised villain?[*] No; and the reason for that is of course that only laws passed after the archonship of Eucleides can be applied. That is how you come to be walking about this city alive—hardly the fate which you deserved after making a living as a common informer under the democracy, and becoming the tool of the Thirty under the oligarchy to avoid having to disgorge your profits.

But that is not enough. You actually talk to me of my intrigues![*] You actually hold others up to censure— you, who had not the decency to confine your own intrigues to but a single admirer, but welcomed the entire world for next to nothing, as the court knows, and supported yourself by vice, your villainous appearance notwithstanding.

But yet, although your laws deny him even the right of defending himself,[*] the fellow has the impudence to accuse others. Really, gentlemen, as I sat watching him make his speech for the prosecution, I quite thought that I had been arrested and put on trial by the Thirty. Who would have prosecuted, if I had found myself in court in those days? Epichares, none other. There he would have been, ready with a charge, unless I bought him off. And here he is once more. Who, again, but Charicles[*] would have cross-examined me? Tell me Andocides, he would have asked, did you go to Decelea[*] and occupy it as a menace to your country? I did not. Well, did you lay Attica waste and pillage your fellow Athenians by land or by sea? No. Then at least you fought Athens at sea,[*] or helped to demolish her walls or put down her democracy, or reinstalled yourself by force?[*]No, I have done none of those things either. Then do you expect to escape the fate of so many others?

Do you not agree, gentlemen, that that is just how I would have been treated for remaining loyal to you, had I fallen into the clutches of the Thirty? Then will it not be a travesty of justice if a man whom the Thirty would have put to death, as they did others, for failing to commit any act of disloyalty to Athens, is not to be acquitted when tried before you whom he refused to wrong? Such a thing would be an outrage. It would make acquittal next to impossible in any case whatsoever.

The truth is, gentlemen, that although the prosecution may have availed themselves of a perfectly valid law in lodging their information against me, they based their charge upon that old decree which is concerned with an entirely different matter. So if you condemn me, beware: you will find that a host of others ought to be answering for their past conduct with far more reason than I. First there are the men who fought you, with whom you swore oaths of reconciliation: then there are the exiles whom you restored: and finally there are the citizens whose rights you gave back to them. For their sakes you removed stones of record, annulled laws, and cancelled decrees; and it is because they trust you that they are still in Athens, gentlemen.

What, do you imagine, will they presume their own position to be, if they find that you are allowing prosecutions for past conduct? Will any of them be ready to stand trial for his past conduct? Yet enemies and informers will spring up right and left, ready to bring every man of them into court.

Today both parties have come to listen, but from very different motives. One side wants to know whether they are to rely upon the laws as they now stand and on the oaths which you and they swore to one another; while the others have come to sound our feelings, to find out whether they will be given complete licence to fill their pockets by indictments,or informations, maybe, or arrests. Thus the truth the matter is, gentlemen, that although it is my life alone which is at stake in this trial, your verdict will decide for the public at large whether they are to put faith in your laws, or whether, on the other hand, they must choose between buying off informers and quitting Athens as fast as they can.

Your measures for reuniting Athens, gentlemen, have not been wasted; they were appropriate, and they were sound policy. To convince you of this, I wish to say a few words with regard to them. Those were dark days for Athens when the tyrants ruled her and the democrats were in exile. But, led by Leogoras, my own great-grandfather, and Charias, whose daughter bore my grandfather to Leogoras, your ancestors crushed the tyrants near the temple at Pallene,[*] and came back to the land of their birth. Some of their enemies they put to death, some they exiled, and some they allowed to live on in Athens without the rights of citizens.

Later the Great King invaded Greece. As soon as our fathers saw what an ordeal faced them and what vast forces the King was assembling, they decreed that exiles should be restored and disfranchised citizens reinstated, that these too should take their part in the perilous struggle for deliverance. After passing this decree, and exchanging solemn pledges and oaths, they fearlessly took up their stand as the protectors of the whole of Greece, and met the Persians at Marathon; for they felt that their own valour was itself a match for the enemy hordes. They fought, and they conquered. They gave back Greece her freedom, and they delivered Attica, the land of their birth.

After their triumph, however, they refused to revive old quarrels. And that is how men who found their city a waste, her temples burnt to the ground, and her walls and houses in ruins, men who were utterly without resources,[*] brought Greece under their sway and handed on to you the glorious and mighty Athens of today—by living in unity. Long afterwards you in your turn had to face a crisis just as great[*];

and by deciding to restore your exiles and give back their rights to the citizens who had lost them you showed that you still had the noble spirit of your forefathers. What, then, have you still to do to equal them in generosity? You must refuse to cherish grievances, gentlemen, remembering that Athens had far less in the old days upon which to build her greatness and prosperity. The same greatness and prosperity are hers still, were only we, her citizens, ready to control our passions and live in unity.

The prosecution have also accused me in connexion with the suppliant’s bough. They allege that it was I who placed it in the Eleusinium,[*] and that under ancient law the penalty for doing such a thing during the Mysteries is death. The impudence of it! They resort to a ruse for my undoing, but will not leave well alone when their plot proves a failure. They proceed to bring a formal accusation against me in spite of it.

It was on our return from Eleusis, after the information had already been lodged against me.[*] The Basileus appeared before the Prytanes to give the usual report on all that had occurred during the performance of the ceremonies there. The Prytanes said that they would bring him before the Council, and told him to give Cephisius and myself notice to attend at the Eleusinium, as it was there that the Council was to sit in conformity with a law of Solon’s, which lays down that a sitting shall be held in the Eleusinium on the day after the Mysteries. We duly attended;

and when the Council had assembled, Callias, son of Hipponicus, who was wearing his ceremonial robes,[*] rose and announced that a suppliant’s bough had been placed on the altar. He displayed this bough to the Council. Thereupon the herald[*] called for the person responsible. There was no reply, although I was standing close by and in full view of Cephisius. When no one replied, and Eucles here, who had come out to inquire, had disappeared inside once more—but call him. Now, Eucles, testify whether these facts are correct to start with.

Evidence

The truth of my account has been attested and it seems to me to contradict the prosecution’s story flatly. The prosecution, you may remember, alleged that the Two Goddesses themselves infatuated me and made me place the bough on the altar in ignorance of the law, in order that I might be punished. But I maintain, gentlemen, that even if every word of the prosecution’s story is true, it was the Goddesses themselves who saved my life.

Suppose that I laid the bough there, and then failed to answer the Herald. Was it not I myself who was bringing about my doom by putting the bough on the altar? And was it not a piece of good fortune, my silence, that saved me, a piece of good fortune for which I clearly had the Two Goddesses to thank? Had the Goddesses desired my death, I ought surely to have confessed that I had laid the bough there, even though I had not done so. As it was, I did not answer, nor had I placed the bough on the altar.

When Eucles informed the Council that there had been no response, Callias rose once more and said that under an ancient law, as officially interpreted on a former occasion by his father, Hipponicus, the penalty for placing a bough in the Eleusinium during the Mysteries was instant death. He added that he had heard that it was I who had put it there. Thereupon Cephalus here leapt to his feet and cried:

Callias, you impious scoundrel, first you are giving interpretations, when you have no right to do such a thing as a member of the Ceryces.[*] Then you talk of an ‘ancient law,’ when the stone at your side lays down that the penalty for placing a bough in the Eleusinium shall be a fine of a thousand drachmae. And lastly, who told you that Andocides had put the bough there? Summon him before the Council, so that we too may hear what he has to say. The stone was read, and Callias could not say who his informant was. It was thus clear to the Council that he had put the bough there himself.

And now, gentlemen, you would perhaps like to know what motive Callias had in putting the bough on the altar. I will explain why he tried to trap me. Epilycus, son of Teisander, was my uncle, my mother’s brother.[*] He died in Sicily without male issue, but left two daughters who ought now to have passed to Leagrus and myself.[*]

His private affairs were in confusion. The tangible property which he left did not amount to two talents, while his debts came to more than five. However, I arranged a meeting with Leagrus[*] before our friends and told him that this was the time for decent men to show their respect for family ties.

We have no right to prefer a wealthy or successful alliance and look down upon the daughters of Epilycus, I argued: for if Epilycus were alive, or had died a rich man, we should be claiming the girls as their next of kin. We should have married them then either because of Epilycus himself or because of his money; we will do the same now because we are men of honour. Do you obtain an order of the court for the one, and I will do the same for the other.