Against Meidias

For I think that all men, in all that they do, feel bound to make a contribution out of their own pockets for the benefit of their own life. Here am I, let us suppose; moderate and merciful towards all, and a benefactor of many. To such a man all men ought to make an equivalent return, if occasion offers or need demands. Here again is a very different man; violent, showing no pity to his neighbor, nor even treating him as a fellow-man. Such a man deserves to be paid in his own coin. And such, Meidias, was the contribution that you paid for your own benefit; such is the return that you deserve.[*](This metaphor of the ἔρανος, which means (1) a picnic, (2) a benefit club, to which each member paid a subscription, and from which he could claim help in time of need, is repeated more fully and clearly in Dem. 21.184. Revision of the speech would probably have cancelled this passage; Dem. 21.100, Dem. 21.101 are obelized in S and two other Mss.)

Therefore, men of Athens, I think that even if I had no other charge to bring against Meidias, and even if what I shall allege hereafter were not more serious than what I have already said, you would be justified, in view of my statements, in condemning him and imposing the utmost penalty of the law. Yet the tale is not complete, and I think I shall not be at a loss what to say next, so lavishly has he furnished me with matter for indictment.

How he trumped up a charge of desertion against me and bribed another to bring the action—a scoundrel ready for any dirty job, the filthy Euctemon—that I shall pass over; for that blackmailer never moved for a trial, nor had Meidias hired him for any other purpose than to have this notice posted up before the Tribal Heroes for all men to read, Euctemon of the Lusian deme has indicted Demosthenes of the Paeanian deme for desertion of his post. Indeed I think he would have been delighted, if it had been in order, to add that Meidias had hired him to indict me. But I pass that over, because Euctemon, having disfranchised himself by failing to follow up the charge, has given me all the satisfaction that I require.

But I will now relate a serious act of cruelty committed by him, men of Athens, which I at least regard as not merely a personal wrong but a public sacrilege. For when a grave criminal charge was hanging over that unlucky wretch, Aristarchus, the son of Moschus, at first, Athenians, Meidias went round the Market-place and ventured to spread impious and atrocious statements about me to the effect that I was the author of the deed; next, when this device failed, he went to the relations of the dead man, who were bringing the charge of murder against Aristarchus, and offered them money if they would accuse me of the crime. He let neither religion nor piety nor any other consideration stand in the way of this wild proposal: he shrank from nothing.

Nay, he was not ashamed to look even that audience in the face and bring such a terrible calamity upon an innocent man; but having set one goal before him, to ruin me by every means in his power, he thought himself bound to leave no stone unturned, as if it were only right that when any man, having been insulted by him, claimed redress and refused to keep silence, he should be removed by banishment without a chance of escape, should even find himself convicted of desertion, should defend himself on a capital charge, and should be in imminent danger of crucifixion. Yet when Meidias is proved guilty of all this, as well as of his insults when I was chorus-master, what leniency, what compassion shall he deserve at your hands?

My own opinion, men of Athens, is that these acts constitute him my murderer; that while at the Dionysia his outrages were confined to my equipment, my person, and my expenditure, his subsequent course of action shows that they were aimed at everything else that is mine, my citizenship, my family, my privileges, my hopes. Had a single one of his machinations succeeded, I should have been robbed of all that I had, even of the right to be buried in the homeland. What does this mean, gentlemen of the jury? It means that if treatment such as I have suffered is to be the fate of any man who tries to right himself when outraged by Meidias in defiance of all the laws, then it will be best for us, as is the way among barbarians, to grovel at the oppressor’s feet and make no attempt at self-defence.

However, to prove that my statements are true and that these things have actually been perpetrated by this shameless ruffian, please call the witnesses.

The Witnesses

We, Dionysius of Aphidna and Antiphilus of Paeania, when our kinsman Nicodemus had met with a violent death at the hands of Aristarchus, the son of Moschus, prosecuted Aristarchus for murder. Learning this, Meidias, who is now being brought to trial by Demosthenes, for whom we appear, offered us small sums of money to let Aristarchus go unharmed, and to substitute the name of Demosthenes in the indictment for murder.

Now let me have the law concerning bribery.

While the clerk is finding the statute, men of Athens, I wish to address a few words to you. I appeal to all of you jurymen, in the name of Zeus and all the gods, that whatever you hear in court, you may listen to it with this in your minds: What would one of you do, if he were the victim of this treatment, and what anger would he feel on his own account against the author of it? Seriously distressed as I was at the insults that I endured in the discharge of my public service, I am far more seriously distressed and indignant at what ensued.

For in truth, what bounds can be set to wickedness, and how can shamelessness, brutality and insolence go farther, if a man who has committed grave-yes, grave and repeated wrongs against another, instead of making amends and repenting of the evil, should afterwards add more serious outrages and should employ his riches, not to further his own interests without prejudice to others, but for the opposite purpose of driving his victim into exile unjustly and covering him with ignominy, while he gloats over his own superabundance of wealth?

All that, men of Athens, is just what has been done by Meidias. He brought against me a false charge of murder, in which, as the facts proved, I was in no way concerned; he indicted me for desertion, having himself on three occasions deserted his post; and as for the troubles in Euboea—why, I nearly forgot to mention them!-troubles for which his bosom-friend Plutarchus was responsible, he contrived to have the blame laid at my door, before it became plain to everyone that Plutarchus was at the bottom of the whole business.

Lastly, when I was made senator by lot, he denounced me at the scrutiny, and the business proved a very real danger for me; for instead of getting compensation for the injuries I had suffered, I was in danger of being punished for acts with which I had no concern. Having such grievances and being persecuted in the way that I have just described to you, but at the same time being neither quite friendless nor exactly a poor man, I am uncertain, men of Athens, what I ought to do.

For, if I may add a word on this subject also, where the rich are concerned, Athenians, the rest of us have no share in our just and equal rights. Indeed we have not. The rich can choose their own time for facing a jury, and their crimes are stale and cold when they are dished up before you, but if any of the rest of us is in trouble, he is brought into court while all is fresh. The rich have witnesses and counsel in readiness, all primed against us; but, as you see, my witnesses are some of them unwilling even to bear testimony to the truth.

One might harp on these grievances till one was weary, I suppose; but now recite in full the law which I began to quote. Read.

The Law

If any Athenian accepts a bribe from another, or himself offers it to another, or corrupts anyone by promises, to the detriment of the people in general, or of any individual citizen, by any means or device whatsoever, he shall be disfranchised together with his children, and his property shall be confiscated.

This man, then, is so impious, so abandoned, so ready to say or do anything, without stopping for a moment to ask whether it is true or false, whether it touches an enemy or a friend, or any such question, that after accusing me of murder and bringing that grave charge against me, he suffered me to conduct initiatory rites and sacrifices for the Council, and to inaugurate the victims on behalf of you and all the State;

he suffered me as head of the Sacred Embassy to lead it in the name of the city to the Nemean shrine of Zeus; he raised no objection when I was chosen with two colleagues to inaugurate the sacrifice to the Dread Goddesses.[*](The Eumenides (Furies), whose sanctuary was a cave under the Areopagus.) Would he have allowed all this, if he had had one jot or tittle of proof for the charges that he was trumping up against me? I cannot believe it. So then this is conclusive proof that he was seeking in mere wanton spite to drive me from my native land.

Then, when for all his desperate shifts he could bring none of these charges home to me, he turned informer against Aristarchus, aiming evidently at me. To pass over other incidents, when the Council was in session and was investigating the murder, Meidias came in and cried, Don’t you know the facts of the case, Councillors? Are you wasting time and groping blindly for the murderer, when you have him already in your hands?-meaning Aristarchus. Won’t you put him to death? Won’t you go to his house and arrest him?

Such was the language of this shameless and abandoned reptile, though only the day before he had stepped out of Aristarchus’s house, though up till then he had been as intimate with him as anyone could be, and though Aristarchus in the day of his prosperity had often importuned me to settle my suit with Meidias out of court. Now if he said this to the Council, believing that Aristarchus had actually committed the crime which has since proved his ruin, and trusting to the tale told by his accusers, yet even so the speech was unpardonable.

Upon friends, if they seem to have done something serious, one should impose the moderate penalty of withdrawing from their friendship; vengeance and prosecution should be left to their victims or their enemies. Yet in a man like Meidias this may be condoned. But if it shall appear that he chatted familiarly under the same roof with Aristarchus, as if he were perfectly innocent, and then uttered those damning charges against him in order to involve me in a false accusation, does he not deserve to be put to death ten times—no! ten thousand times over?

I am going to call the witnesses now present in court to prove that my version of the facts is correct; that on the day before he told that tale to the Council, he had entered Aristarchus’s house and had a conversation with him; that on the next day-and this, men of Athens, this for vileness is impossible to beat—he went into his house and sat as close to him as this, and put his hand in his, in the presence of many witnesses, after that speech in the Council in which he had called Aristarchus a murderer and said the most terrible things of him; that he invoked utter destruction on himself if he had said a word in his disparagement; that he never thought twice about his perjury, though there were people present who knew the truth, and he actually begged him to use his influence to bring about a reconciliation with me.

And yet, Athenians, must we not call it a crime, or rather an impiety, to say that a man is a murderer and then swear that one has never said this to reproach a man with murder and then sit in the same room with him? And if I let him off now and so stultify your vote of condemnation, I am an innocent man apparently; but if I proceed with my case, I am a deserter, I am accessory to a murder, I deserve extermination. I am quite of the contrary opinion, men of Athens. If I had let Meidias off, then I should have been a deserter from the cause of justice, and I might reasonably have charged myself with murder, for life would have been impossible for me, had I acted thus.