On the Mysteries (Intro-Narrative)

The systematic and untiring efforts of my enemies, gentlemen, to do me every possible injury, by fair means or by foul, from the very moment of my arrival in this city,[*] are known to almost all of you, and it is unnecessary for me to pursue the subject. Instead, I shall make a request of you, gentlemen, a fair request, which it is as easy for you to grant as it is valuable for me to gain.[*]

First, I ask you to bear in mind that it is not because I have been forced to face my trial that I am here today—I have not been on bail, nor have I been kept in confinement.[*] I am here, first and foremost because I rely upon justice and secondly because I rely upon you; I believe that you will decide my case impartially and, far sooner than allow my enemies to defy justice by taking my life, will uphold justice by protecting me, as your laws and your oaths as jurors require you to do.

With defendants who face a trial of their own free will, gentlemen, it stands to reason that you should feel as convinced of their innocence as they do themselves. When a defendant admits himself guilty by refusing to await trial, you naturally endorse the verdict which he has passed upon himself; so it follows that if a man is prepared to face his trial because his conscience is clear, you should let his verdict upon himself determine your own in the same way, instead of presuming him guilty.

Mine is a case in point. My enemies have been saying, or so I keep hearing, that I would take to my heels instead of standing my ground. What motive could Andocides possibly have for braving so hazardous a trial? they argue. He can count upon a livelihood sufficient for all his needs, if he does no more than withdraw from Attica; while if he returns to Cyprus whence he has come,[*] an abundance of good land has been offered him and is his for the asking. Will a man in his position want to risk his life? What object could he have in doing so? Cannot he see the state of things in Athens?

That entirely misrepresents my feelings, gentlemen. I would never consent to a life abroad which cut me off from my country, whatever the advantages attached to it; and although conditions in Athens may be what my enemies allege, I would sooner be a citizen of her than of any other state which may appear to me to be just now at the height of prosperity. Those are the feelings which have led me to place my life in your hands.

I ask you, then, to show more sympathy to me, the defendant, gentlemen, than to my accusers, in the knowledge that even if you give us an impartial hearing, the defence is inevitably at a disadvantage. The prosecution have brought their charge in perfect safety, after elaborating their plans at leisure; whereas I who am answering that charge am filled with fear; my life is at stake, and I have been grossly misrepresented. You have good reason for showing more sympathy to me than you do to my accusers.

And there is another thing to be borne in mind. Serious charges have often before now been disproved at once, and so decisively that you would much rather have punished the accusers than the accused. Again, witnesses have caused the death of innocent men by giving false evidence, and have only been convicted of perjury when it was too late to be of help to the victims. When this kind of thing has been so common, you can hardly do less than refuse for the Present to consider the prosecution’s statement of the case trustworthy. You may use it to judge whether the charge is serious or not but you cannot tell whether the charge is true or false until you have heard my reply as well.

Now I am wondering at what point to begin my defence, gentlemen. Shall I start with what ought to be discussed last and prove that the prosecution disobeyed the law in lodging their information against me?[*] Shall I take the decree of Isotimides and show that it has been annulled? Shall I start with the laws which have been passed and the oaths which have been taken? Or shall I tell you the story right from the beginning? I will explain the chief reason for my hesitation. Doubtless the different charges made have not moved you all to the same degree, and each of you has some one of them to which he would like me to reply first; yet to answer them all simultaneously is impossible. On the whole, I think it best to tell you the entire story from the beginning, omitting nothing; once you are properly acquainted with the facts, you will see immediately how unfounded are the charges which my accusers have brought against me.

Now to return a just verdict is already, I feel sure, your intention; indeed, it was because I relied upon you that I stood my ground. I have observed that in suits public and private the one thing to which you attach supreme importance is that your decision should accord with your oath; and it is that, and that alone, which keeps our city unshaken, in spite of those who would have things otherwise. I do, however, ask you to listen to my defence with sympathy; do not range yourselves with my opponents; do not view my story with suspicion; do not watch for faults of expression. Hear my defence to the end: and only then return the verdict which you think best befits yourselves and best satisfies your oath.

As I have already told you, gentlemen, my defence will begin at the beginning and omit nothing. I shall deal first with the actual charge which furnished grounds for the lodging of the information that has brought me into court today, profanation of the Mysteries. I shall show that I have committed no act of impiety, that I have never turned informer, that I have never admitted guilt, and that I do not know whether the statements made to you by those who did turn informers were true or false. Of all this you shall have proof.

The Assembly had met[*] to give audience to Nicias, Lamachus, and Alcibiades, the generals about to leave with the Sicilian expedition—in fact, Lamachus’ flag-ship was already lying offshore—when suddenly Pythonicus rose before the people and cried: Countrymen, you are sending forth this mighty host in all its array upon a perilous enterprise. Yet your commander, Alcibiades, has been holding celebrations of the Mysteries in a private house, and others with him; I will prove it. Grant immunity[*] to him whom I indicate, and a non-initiate, a slave belonging to someone here present, shall describe the Mysteries to you. You can punish me as you will, if that is not the truth.

Alcibiades denied the charge at great length; so the Prytanes[*] decided to clear the meeting of non-initiates and themselves fetch the lad indicated by Pythonicus. They went off, and returned with a slave belonging to Archebiades, son of Polemarchus. His name was Andromachus. As soon as immunity had been voted him, he stated that Mysteries had been celebrated in Pulytion’s house. Alcibiades, Niciades and Meletus —those were the actual celebrants; but others had been present and had witnessed what took place. The audience had also included slaves, namely, himself, his brother, the fluteplayer Hicesius, and Meletus’ slave.

Such was the statement of Andromachus, the first of the informers. He gave the following list of persons concerned,[*] all of whom, save Polystratus, fled the country and were sentenced to death by you in their absence; Polystratus was arrested and executed. Take the list, please, and read out their names.[*]

Names.—The following were denounced by Andromachus: Alcibiades, Niciades, Meletus, Archebiades, Archippus, Diogenes, Polystratus, Aristomenes, Oeonias, Panaetius.

This was the first information, gentlemen; it was due to Andromachus, and implicated the persons mentioned. Now call Diognetus, please.

WitnessYou were on the commission of inquiry,[*] Diognetus when Pythonicus impeached Alcibiades before the Assembly?
Yes.
You recollect that Andromachus laid an information as to what was going on in Pulytion’s house?
Yes.
And these are the names of those implicated by that information?
Yes.

A second information followed. An alien named Teucrus, resident in Athens, quietly withdrew to Megara. From Megara he informed the Council that if immunity were granted him, he was prepared not only to lodge an information with regard to the Mysteries—as one of the participants, he would reveal the names of his companions—but he would also tell what he knew of the mutilation of the Hermae. The Council, which had supreme powers at the time, voted acceptance; and messengers were sent to Megara to fetch him. He was brought to Athens, and on being granted immunity, furnished a list of his associates. No sooner had Teucrus denounced them than they fled the country. Take the list, please, and read out their names.

Names.—The following were denounced by Teucrus: Phaedrus, Gniphonides, Isonomus, Hephaestodorus, Cephisodorus, himself, Diognetus, Smindyrides, Philocrates, Antiphon,[*] Teisarchus, Pantacles.

Let me remind you, gentlemen, that you are receiving confirmation of these further facts in every detail.[*]

A third information followed. According to the wife of Alcmaeonides—she had previously been married to Damon and was named Agariste—according, as I say, to Alcmaeonides’ wife, Alcibiades, Axiochus, and Adeimantus celebrated Mysteries in Charmides’ house, next to the Olympieum. No sooner had the information been lodged than those concerned left the country to a man.

There was still one more information. According to Lydus, a slave of Pherecles of Themacus, Mysteries were celebrated at the house of his master, Pherecles, at Themacus. He gave a list of those concerned, including my father among them; my father had been present, so Lydus said, but asleep with his head under his cloak. Speusippus, one of the members of the Council, was for handing them all over to the proper court; whereupon my father furnished surieties and brought an action against Speusippus for making an illegal proposal.[*] The case was tried before six thousand citizens.[*] There were six thousand jurors, I repeat; yet Speusippus failed to gall the votes of two hundred. I may add that my father was induced to stay in the country partly by the entreaties of his relatives in general, but principally by my own.

Kindly call Callias and Stephanus—yes, and call Philippus and Alexippus. Philippus and Alexippus are related to Acumenus and Autocrator, who fled in consequence of the information lodged by Lydus; Autocrator is a nephew of the one, and Acumenus is the other’s uncle. They have little reason to love the man who drove the them from this country, and they should also know better than anyone who it was who caused their exile in the first instance.[*] Face the court, gentlemen, and state whether I have been telling the truth.

Witnesses

Now that you have heard the facts, gentlemen, and the witnesses have confirmed them for you, let me remind you of the version of those facts which the prosecution had the effrontery to give—for after all, the right way to conduct a defence is to recall the statements of the prosecution and disprove them. According to the prosecution, I myself gave information in the matter of the Mysteries and included my own father in my list of those present: yes, turned informer against my own father. I cannot imagine a more outrageous, a more abominable suggestion. My father was denounced by Pherecles’ slave, Lydus: it was I who persuaded him to remain in Athens instead of escaping into exile—and it was only after numberless entreaties and by clinging to his knees that I did so.

What, pray, was I about in informing against my father, as we are asked to believe that I did, when at the same time I was begging him to remain in Athens—begging him, that is, to let me be guilty of the consequences to himself? Again, we are to suppose that my father himself consented to face a trial which was bound to have one or other of two terrible results for him; if my information against him was deemed true, his blood would be upon my hands: if he himself was acquitted, mine would be upon his; because the law ran that whereas an informer’s claim to immunity should be allowed if his information were true, he should be put to death, if it were not. Yet if there is one thing of which you are all certain, it is the fact that my father and I both escaped with our lives. That could not have happened, if I had informed against my father: either he or I would have had to die.

Then again, assume that he actually desired to stay. Do you imagine that his friends would have let him do so? Would they have gone bail for him? Would they not have urged him to change his mind? Would they not have begged him to find some place of refuge abroad, where he would be out of harm’s way himself and would avoid causing my death also?

But to return to facts: when prosecuting Speusippus for making an illegal proposal, one thing upon which my father insisted repeatedly was that he had never visited Pherecles at Themacus in his life; and he offered the defence the opportunity of examining his slaves under torture[*]; those who were ready to hand over their slaves, he said, ought not to meet with a refusal of the test which they were proposing, when those who were not ready to hand them over were forced to do so. You all know my father’s challenge to be a fact. Now if there is any truth in the prosecution’s assertion, what had Speusippus to reply but: Why talk of slaves, Leogoras? Has not your son here informed against you? Does not he say that you were at Themacus? Andocides, prove your father guilty, or your chance of a pardon is gone. Was that Speusippus’ natural retort or not, gentlemen?

I for one think so. In fact, if I ever entered a court, if I was ever mentioned in connexion with the affair, or if there is any recorded information or list containing my name, let alone any for which I was myself responsible, anyone who wishes is welcome to step up here and prove it against me. For my own part, I have never known anyone tell so outrageous or so unconvincing a story. All that was necessary, they imagined, was sufficient effrontery to bring a charge; the possibility of their being refuted did not disturb them in the least. Be consistent, then.

Had this accusation of theirs been true, your anger would have fallen upon me, and you would have considered the severest penalty justified. So now that you see them to be lying, I demand that you look upon them instead as scoundrels—and with good reason too: for if the worst of their charges are shown to be conspicuously false, I shall hardly find it difficult to prove the same of those which are less serious.

Such, then, were the informations lodged in connexion with the Mysteries; they were, as I say, four in number. I have read you the names of those who went into exile after each, and the witnesses have given their evidence. I shall now do something more to convince you, gentlemen. Of those who went into exile as a result of the profanation of the Mysteries, some died abroad; but others have returned and are living in Athens. These last are present in court at my request.

Any of them who wishes is welcome to prove, in the time now allotted to me,[*] that I was responsible for the exile of any of their number, that I informed against any of them, or that the various groups did not go into exile in consequence of the particular informations which I have described to you. If I am shown not to be speaking the truth, you may punish me as you will. I shall now interrupt my defence and give place to anyone who wishes to step up here.

And now, gentlemen, what followed? After the various informations had been laid, the question of rewards arose: for Cleonymus’ decree had offered one thousand drachmae, and Peisander’s ten.[*] Conflicting claims were made by the informers I have mentioned,[*] by Pythonicus, on the ground that he had first brought the matter before the Assembly, and by Androcles, who urged the part played by the Council.

It was therefore publicly resolved that such members of the court of the Thesmothetae[*] as were initiates should be presented with the informations of the several claimants and decide between them. As a result the principal reward was voted to Andromachus, the second to Teucrus; and at the festival of the Panathenaea[*] Andromachus received ten thousand drachmae and Teucrus one thousand. Kindly call witnesses to confirm this.

Witnesses

So much for the profanation of the Mysteries, gentlemen, on which the information lodged against me is based and which you are here as initiates to investigate. I have shown that I have committed no act of impiety, that I have never turned informer, that I have never admitted guilt, and that I have not a single offence against the Two Goddesses[*] upon my conscience, whether serious or otherwise. And it is vitally important for me to convince you of this; for the stories told you by the prosecution, who treated you to so shrill a recital of bloodcurdling horrors, with their descriptions of past offenders who have made mock of the Two Goddesses and of the fearful end to which they have been brought as a punishment—what, I ask you, have such tales and such crimes to do with me?

It is I, in fact, who am much more truly the accuser, and they the accused. They have been guilty of impiety; and therefore, I maintain, they deserve death. I, on the other hand, have done no wrong, and therefore I deserve to go unharmed. It would be nothing less than monstrous to vent upon me the wrath which the misdeeds of others have aroused in you, or to let the malicious attack to which I have been subjected weigh more with you than the truth, when you know that it is my enemies who are responsible for it. Obviously anyone who was guilty of an offence such as that with which we are concerned could not clear himself by denying that he had committed it: for the scrutiny to which a defendant’s statements are subjected is formidable indeed when the court already knows the truth. But to me the inquiry into the facts is the very opposite of embarrassing; I have no need to resort to entreaties or appeals for mercy to gain an acquittal upon a charge such as this: I have merely to show the absurdity of the statements of my accusers by reminding you of what actually occurred.

And you yourselves have taken solemn oaths as the jurors who are to decide my fate: as jurors you have sworn to see that that decision is a fair one, under pain of causing the most terrible of curses to fall upon yourselves and your children; and at the same time you are here as initiates who have witnessed the rites of the Two Goddesses, in order that you may punish those who are guilty of impiety and protect those who are innocent.

Understand, then, that to condemn the innocent for impiety is no less an act of impiety than to acquit the guilty. Indeed, in the name of the Two Goddesses I repeat yet more sternly the charge laid upon you by my accusers, for the sake both of the rites which you have witnessed and of the Greeks who are coming to this city for the festival. If I have committed any act of impiety, if I have admitted guilt, if I have informed against another, or if another has informed against me, then put me to death; I ask no mercy.

But if on the other hand, I have committed no offence, and completely satisfy you of the fact, then I ask you to let the whole nation see that I have been brought to trial wrongfully. Should Cephisius here, who was responsible for the information laid against me, fail to gain one-fifth of your votes and so lose his rights as a citizen, he is forbidden to set foot within the sanctuary of the Two Goddesses under pain of death.[*] And now, if you think my defence satisfactory up to the present, show your approval, so that I may present what remains with increased confidence.

Next comes the mutilation of the images and the denunciation of those responsible. I will do as I promised and tell you the whole story from the beginning. On his return from Megara Teucrus was guaranteed his immunity. Hereupon, besides communicating what he knew about the Mysteries, he gave a list of eighteen of those responsible for the mutilation of the images. Of these eighteen, a number fled the country upon being denounced; the remainder were arrested and executed upon the information lodged by Teucrus. Kindly read their names.

Names.—In the matter of the Hermae Teucrus denounced: Euctemon, Glaucippus, Eurymachus, Polyeuctus, Plato, Antidorus, Charippus, Theodorus, Alcisthenes, Menestratus, Eryximachus, Euphiletus, Eurydamas, Pherecles, Meletus, Timanthes, Archidamus, Telenicus.

A number of these men have returned to Athens and are present in court, as are several of the relatives of those who have died. Any of them is welcome to step up here, during the time now allotted me, and prove against me that I caused either the exile or the death of a single one.

And now for what followed. Peisander[*] and Charicles,[*] who were regarded in those days as the most fervent of democrats, were members of the commission of inquiry. These two maintained that the outrage was not the work of a small group of criminals, but an organized attempt to overthrow the popular government: and that therefore inquiries ought still to be pursued as vigorously as ever. As a result, Athens reached such a state that the lowering of the flag, by the Herald, when summonig a meeting of the Council, was quite as much a signal for the citizens to hurry from the Agora, each in terror of arrest, as it was for the Council to proceed to the Council-chamber.[*]

The general distress encouraged Diocleides to bring an impeachment before the Council. He claimed that he knew who had mutilated the Hermae, and gave their number as roughly three hundred. He then went on to explain how he had come to witness the outrage. Now I want you to think carefully here, gentlemen; try to remember whether I am telling the truth, and inform your companions; for it was before you that Diocleides stated his case, and you are my witnesses of what occurred.

Diocleides’ tale was that he had had to fetch the earnings of a slave of his at Laurium.[*] He arose at an early hour, mistaking the time, and started off on his walk by the light of a fuIl moon. As he was passing the gateway of the theatre of Dionysus, he noticed a large body of men coming down into the orchestra from the Odeum.[*] In alarm, he withdrew into the shadow and crouched down between the column and the pedestal with the bronze statue of the general upon it. He then saw some three hundred men standing about in groups of five and ten and, in some cases, twenty. He recognized the faces of the majority, as he could see them in the moonlight.

Now to begin with, gentlemen, Diocleides gave his story this particular form simply to be in a position to say of any citizen, according as he chose, that he was or was not one of the offenders—a monstrous proceeding. However, to continue his tale: after seeing what he had, he went on to Laurium; and when he learned next day of the mutilation of the Hermae, he knew at once that it was the work of the men he had noticed.

On his return to Athens he found a commission already appointed to investigate, and a reward of one hundred minae offered for information[*]; so seeing Euphemus, the brother of Callias, son of Telocles, sitting in his smithy, he took him to the temple of Hephaestus. Then, after describing, as I have described to you, how he had seen us on the night in question, he said that he would rather take our money than the state’s, as he would thereby avoid making enemies of us. Euphemus thanked Diocleides for confiding in him. And now, he added, be good enough to come to Leogoras’ house, so that you and I can see Andocides and the others who must be consulted.

According to his story, Diocleides called next day. My father happened to be coming out just as he was knocking at the door. Are you the man they are expecting in there? he asked. Well, well, we must not turn friends like you away. And with these words he went off. This was an attempt to bring about my father’s death by showing that he was in the secret.

We informed Diocleides, or so he alleged, that we had decided to offer him two talents of silver, as against the hundred minae from the Treasury,[*] and promised that he should become one of ourselves, if we achieved our end.[*] Both sides were to give a guarantee of good faith. Diocleides replied that he would think it over;

and we told him to meet us at Callias’ house, so that Callias, son of Telocles, might be present as well. This was a similar attempt to bring about the death of my brother-in-law.

Diocleides said that he went to Callias’ house, and after terms had been arranged, pledged his word on the Acropolis.[*] we on our side agreed to give him the money the following month; but we broke our promise and did not do so. He had therefore come to reveal the truth.

Such was the impeachment brought by Diocleides, gentlemen. He gave a list of forty-two persons whom he claimed to have recognized, and at the head of the forty-two appeared Mantitheus and Apsephion who were members of the Council and present at that very meeting. Peisander hereupon rose and moved that the decree passed in the archonship of Scamandrius[*] be suspended and all whose names were on the list sent to the wheel, to ensure the discovery of everyone concerned before nightfall. The Council broke into shouts of approval.

At that Mantitheus and Apsephion took sanctuary on the hearth, and appealed to be allowed to furnish sureties and stand trial, instead of being racked. They finally managed to gain their request; but no sooner had they provided their sureties than they leapt on horseback and deserted to the enemy,[*] leaving the sureties to their fate, as they were now liable to the same penalties as the prisoners for whom they had gone bail.

The Council adjourned for a private consultation and in the course of it gave orders for our arrest and close confinement.[*] Then they summoned the Generals and bade them proclaim that citizens resident in Athens proper were to proceed under arms to the Agora; those between the Long Walls to the Theseum; and those in Peiraeus to the Agora of Hippodamus. The Knights were to be mustered at the Anaceum[*] by trumpet before nightfall, while the Council would take up its quarters on the Acropolis for the night, and the Prytanes in the Tholus.[*]

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.