‘So much for what I had to say to you in my
own behalf: it is true and just and, I flatter myself,
merits praise rather than hatred. As for my gift, it
is time you heard where and how I got this bull. I
did not order it of the sculptor myself—I hope I
may never be so insane as to want such things!—but
there was a man in our town called Perilaus, a good
metal-worker but a bad man, Completely missing
my point of view, this fellow thought to do me a
favour by inventing a new punishment, imagining
that I wanted to punish people in any and every
way. So he made the bull and came to me with it,
a very beautiful thing to look at and a very close
copy of nature; motion and voice were all it needed
to make it seem actually alive. At the sight of it I
cried out at once: “The thing is good enough for
Apollo; we must send the bull to the god!” But
Perilaus at my elbow said: “What if you knew the
trick of it and the purpose it serves?” . With that
he opened the bull’s back and said: “If you wish
to punish anyone, make him get into this contrivance
and lock him up; then attach these flutes to the
nose of the bull and have a fire lighted underneath.
The man will groan and shriek in the grip of unremitting pain, and his voice will make you the
sweetest possible music on the flutes, piping dolefully
and lowing piteously; so that while he is punished
you are entertained by having flutes played to you.”

 

When I heard this I was disgusted with the wicked
ingenuity of the fellow and hated the idea of the

 

contrivance, so I gave him a punishment that fitted,
his crime. “Come now, Perilaus,” said I, “if this is
not mere empty boasting, show us the real nature of
the invention by getting into it yourself and imitating people crying out, so that we may know whether
the music you speak of ig really made on the flutes.”
Perilaus complied, and when he was inside, I locked
him up and had a fire kindled underneath, saying:
“Take the reward you deserve for your wonderful
invention, and as you are our music-master, play the
first tune yourself!” So he, indeed, got his deserts
by thus having the enjoyment of his own ingenuity.
But I had the fellow taken out while he -was still
alive and breathing, that he might not pollute the
work by dying in it; then I had him thrown over a
cliff to lie unburied, and after purifying the bull,
sent it to you to be dedicated to the god. I also
had the whole story inscribed on it—my name as the
- giver; that of Perilaus, the maker; his idea; my
justice; the apt punishment; the songs of the clever
metal-worker and the first trial of the music.

 
‘You will do what is right, men of Delphi, if
you offer sacrifice in my behalf with my ambassadors,
and if you set the bull up in a fair place in the
temple-close, that all may know how I deal with bad
men and how I requite their extravagant inclinations
toward wickedness. Indeed, this affair of itself is
enough to show my character: Perilaus was punished,
the bull was dedicated without being kept to pipe
when others were punished and without having
played any other tune than the bellowings of its


 

maker, and his case sufficed me to try the invention
and put an end to that uninspired, inhyman music.
At present, this is what I offer the god, but I shall
make many other gifts as soon as he permits me to
dispense with punishments.’

 
This, men of Delphi, is the message from Phalaris,
all of it true and everything just as‘ it took place.
You would be justified in believing our testimony,
as we know the facts and have never yet had the
reputation of being untruthful. But if it is necessary
to resort to entreaty on behalf of a man who has
been wrongly thought wicked and has been compelled to punish people against his will, then we, the
people of Acragas, Greeks of Dorian stock, beseech
you to grant him access to the sanctuary, for he
wishes to be your friend and is moved to confer
many benefits on each and all of yon, both public
and private. Take the bull then; dedicate it, and
pray for Acragas and for Phalaris himself. Do not
send us away unsuccessful or insult him or deprive
the god of an offering at once most beautiful and
most fitting.
 II 
I am neither an official representative of the
people of Acragas, men of Delphi, nor a personal
representative of Phalaris himself, and I have no
private ground at all for good-will to him and no
expectation of future friendship. But after listening
to the reasonable and temperate story of the ambassadors who have come from him, I rise in the

 

interests of religion, of our common good and, above
all, of the dignity of Delphi to exhort you neither
to insult a devout monarch nor to put away a gift
already pledged to the god, especially as it will be
for ever a memorial of three very significant things—
beautiful workmanship, wicked inventiveness, and
just punishment.