He was so nervous, and so much worried by the fear that, in spite of his Thracian success, his enterprise would slip from his fingers if you should intervene before the Phocians perished, that he made a new bargain with this vile creature—all by himself this time, no t in common with his colleagues— to make that speech and to render that report to you, by which all was lost.

I earnestly beg you, men of Athens, to bear in mind throughout this trial that, if Aeschines had not gone outside the articles of indictment in his denunciation of me, I too would not have digressed; but as he has resorted to every sort of imputation and slander, I am compelled to reply briefly to all his charges in turn.

What then were the speeches he made at that crisis—the speeches that brought everything to ruin? He told you that you need not be excited because Philip had passed Thermopylae; that, if only you kept quiet, you would get all you wanted, and would within two or three days learn that Philip was now the friend of those to whom he came as enemy, and the enemy of those to whom he came as friend. The bonds of amity, he declared, with his most impressive eloquence, are fortified not by words but by community of interest; and it was an interest common to Philip, to the Phocians, and to all of you alike, to be quit of the unfeeling and offensive behavior of the Thebans.

Some of you were delighted to hear these remarks, for at that time we all disliked the Thebans. What was the result—not the distant, but the immediate result? That the Phocians perished and their cities were demolished; that you took his advice and kept quiet—and before long were carrying in your chattels from the country; and that Aeschines pocketed his fee. A further result was that Athens got all the ill will of the Thebans and Thessalians, and Philip all their gratitude for these transactions.