Do not, then, if you pity Theomnestus for the obloquy that he deserves, forgive him for outrages and expressions whereby he has broken the laws. For what greater misfortune could befall me, after I have had such shameful charges brought against me, and in relation to such a father? He was general many times, and shared your peril besides in many a conflict; neither did his person fall into the hands of the enemy, nor was he ever convicted by his fellow-citizens at any audit of his service, but at the age of sixty-seven he lost his life under the oligarchy for loyalty to your people. Is there not good cause to feel anger against the man who has made such statements, and to defend my father as included in this calumny? For what more distressing fate could overtake him than this,—after being slain by his enemies, to bear the reproach of having been destroyed by his children? Even now, gentlemen, the memorials of his valor are hanging in your temples, while those of this man’s and his father’s baseness are seen in the temples of the enemy, so ingrained is cowardice in their nature. And indeed, gentlemen, the taller and more gallant they are in looks, the more they are deserving of anger. For it is clear that, though strong in their bodies, they are ill in their souls. I hear, gentlemen, that he is resorting to the argument that he has made these statements in a fit of anger at my having borne witness to the same effect as Dionysius. But your reflection on this, gentlemen, must be that the lawgiver grants no indulgence to anger he punishes the speaker, unless he proves the truth of the statements that he has made. I myself have now borne witness twice in regard to this man; for I was not yet aware that you punished the persons who had seen the deed, but pardoned those who had done the throwing away.