On the False Embassy

Antipater and Parmenio, though they were in the service of a hard taskmaster, and though they were not likely to fall in with you again, nevertheless claimed exemption from serving as the agents of your beguilement; and yet citizens of Athens, the appointed envoys of the freest of all cities, men who must needs encounter you and look you in the face, who must live with you all the rest of their life, who would have to render you a strict account of their actions, accepted a commission to beguile you! Could any men be more wicked or more lost to all sense of shame?

To show you that this man is already accursed by you, and that religion and piety forbid you to acquit one who has been guilty of such falsehoods,—recite the curse.[*](Every meeting of the Assembly and of the Council opened with a form of prayer, which included a curse on the enemies of the state and was recited by the marshal (κῆρυξ) at the dictation of an under-clerk. The curse has nowhere been preserved, but a parody will be found in Aristoph. Thes. 331 ff.) Take and read it from the statute: here it is.

(The Statutory Commination is read)

This imprecation, men of Athens, is pronounced, as the law directs, by the marshal on your behalf at every meeting of the Assembly, and again before the Council at all their sessions. The defendant cannot say that he is not familiar with it, for, when acting as clerk to the Assembly and as an officer of the Council, he used to dictate the statute to the marshal.

Would you not have acted absurdly and preposterously if today, when the power is in your own hands, you should preclude yourselves from doing what you enjoin, or rather require, the gods to do on your behalf; if you should yourselves release a man whom you have implored them to extirpate along with his household and his kindred? Never! Leave the undetected sinner to the justice of the gods; but about the sinner whom you have caught yourselves, lay no further injunctions on them.

I am informed that he has become so proficient in effrontery and hardihood that he will disavow all his acts—his reports, his promises, his deceptions of the city—as though he were not on trial before a jury that knows the whole truth, and that he will denounce first the Lacedaemonians,then the Phocians, and then Hegesippus. That is buffoonery, nay, barefaced impudence.

Whatever he may say just now about the Phocians or the Lacedaemonians or Hegesippus,—that they did not receive Proxenus, that they are irreligious, that they are—anything he can say to their disadvantage,—surely all that was finished and done with before the return of the envoys to Athens, and therefore could not have stood in the way of the deliverance of the Phocians. Who says so? Why, Aeschines here, the defendant himself.

For he did not allege in his report that, but for the Lacedaemonians, but for their refusal to receive Proxenus, but for Hegesippus, but for this or that, the Phocians would have been delivered. He passed over all that, and declared explicitly that before his return he had persuaded Philip to deliver the Phocians, to repopulate Boeotia, and to put the whole business into your hands; that it would all be accomplished within two or three days, and that in revenge the Thebans had set a price upon his head.

Do not, then, listen to anything that had been done by Lacedaemonians or Phocians before he made his report; do not let him talk about it; do not permit him to denounce the Phocians and call them rascals. You saved the Lacedaemonians in old time, and those accursed Euboeans lately, and many other peoples, not because they were virtuous, but because their safety profited Athens, as that of the Phocians would today. What transgression did the Phocians or the Lacedaemonians or you or anyone else commit after Aeschines’ speech, that the promises made by him to you then should not be fulfilled?

Ask him that question. He can point to none. For he made his lying report, you believed it, the Phocians heard of it, surrendered, and perished, all within a period of five days only. Hence it is clearly evident that the ruin of the Phocians was nothing but a concoction of deceit and artifice. For during the time when Philip was unable to march by reason of the peace, but was already laying his plans, he sent for the Lacedaemonians, promising to do everything for them, so that the Phocians might not, through your agency, secure their help.

But when he had reached Thermopylae, and when the Lacedaemonians, detecting the snare, had withdrawn, he sent Aeschines as his agent in advance for your deception, lest, when you discovered that he was acting in the interest of the Thebans, he should be involved once more in delays and fighting and waste of time with the Phocians resisting him, and you helping them. In this way he hoped to obtain complete mastery without a struggle. And so it fell out. Aeschines, then, must not escape punishment for deceiving you, merely because Philip deceived the Lacedaemonians and the Phocians. That would be unjust indeed.

If as an offset to the Phocians and Thermopylae and all our other losses he tells you that the city still retains the Chersonese, I adjure you not to accept that excuse. In addition to the wrongs he has done you by his embassy, you must not suffer him by his defence also to fasten upon the city the reproach that, while stealthily securing some of your own possessions, you made sacrifice of the safety of your allies. You did no such thing. Peace was concluded; the Chersonese was secure; and then for the four ensuing months the Phocians were not imperilled, until you were deceived, and the Phocians destroyed, by this man’s mendacity.

Moreover, you will find that the Chersonese is in greater danger now than then. When would it have been easier to punish Philip for wrongful aggression upon that country—before he forestalled us at Thermopylae, or today? Surely far easier then! What, then, does it profit us that we still retain the Chersonese, if the man, who would have invaded it if he could, is freed from the apprehensions and perils that deterred him?

I hear of another argument he will use: he will wonder why his accuser is Demosthenes and not one of the Phocians. I had better explain at once how the matter stands. The best and most respectable of the expatriated Phocians, being exiled and in distress, are living peaceably, and none of them would be willing to incur private animosity on account of the misfortunes of the nation, while those who might have done anything for a fee find that there is no one to pay it them.

For I would never pay a man a farthing to stand here by my side and make an outcry about his sufferings, since truth and fact cry out loudly enough. Nay more, the commonalty of the Phocians are in such an evil and pitiable plight that there is no question with them of prosecuting at an Athenian scrutiny—only of living like slaves in mortal terror of Thebans and of Philip’s mercenaries, who are billeted on them after they have been disarmed and distributed among villages.

Do not allow this plea. No, Aeschines must prove either that the Phocians are not ruined, or that he did not promise that Philip would protect them. These are the questions for a scrutiny of an embassy: What has been accomplished? What did you report? If the truth,—go in peace; if falsehood,—take your punishment. What matter if the Phocians are not in court? You have played your part in reducing them to such straits that they can neither help their friends nor repel their enemies.

Moreover, apart from the discredit and infamy attached to these transactions, it is easy to show that they have involved the commonwealth in very serious perils. You all know that the prowess of the Phocians, and their control of the pass of Thermopylae, gave us security against the Thebans, and ensured that neither Philip nor the Thebans would invade either the Peloponnesus, or Euboea, or Attica.

But, overborne by the impostures and falsehoods of these men, you have flung away the security of position and circumstances which the city enjoyed. That security was fortified by arms and an unbroken front, by strongholds of our allies and a broad territory; and you have acquiesced in its devastation. Your former expedition to Thermopylae, made at a cost of more than two hundred talents, if you include the private expenses of the troops, has gone to waste; and so have all your hopes respecting the Thebans.

But of all the many shameful services rendered by Aeschines to Philip, let me mention the one that really implied the most insolent disdain of the city and of you all. Philip was resolved from the first to do for the Thebans all that he has done, but Aeschines by the perversions of his report revealed your repugnance, and so intensified both your hostility and Philip’s friendliness towards the Thebans. How could the man have treated you more arrogantly?

Now take and read the decrees of Diophantus and of Callisthenes. They will show you how, when you did your duty, you made it an occasion of services of praise and thanksgiving, both at Athens and abroad; but when you had been led astray by these men, you brought your wives and children in from the country, and ordered the festival of Heracles to be held within the walls, in time of peace. It makes me wonder whether you will release unpunished a man who has deprived even the gods of immemorial observances. Read the decree.

(The Decree of Diophantus is read)

So you decreed at that time, men of Athens, agreeably to your achievements. Now read the next.

(The Decree of Callisthenes is read)