Against Meidias

for I suppose you all know his way of life, his arrogance and his superciliousness, and I even suspect that some have long marvelled at things which they know themselves, but have not heard from my lips today. But I note that many of his victims are reluctant to disclose in evidence all that they have suffered, because they realize his violence and his persistence and the extent of those resources which make him so powerful and so dreaded, despicable though he is.

For a man whose wickedness and violence are supported by power and wealth is fortified against any sudden attack. So this fellow, if he were deprived of his property, would perhaps discontinue his outrages, or if not, he will be of less account in your courts than the most insignificant criminal; for then he will rail and bluster to deaf ears, and for any act of gross violence he will pay the penalty like the rest of us.

But now, I believe, his champions are Polyeuctus and Timocrates and the ragamuffin Euctemon. Such are the mercenaries that he keeps about him; and there are others besides, an organized gang of witnesses, who do not openly force themselves upon you, but readily give a silent nod of assent to his lies. I do not of course imagine that they make anything out of him, but there are some people, men of Athens, who are strangely prone to abase themselves towards the wealthy, to attend upon them, and to give witness in their favour.

All this, I expect, is alarming for the rest of you as individuals, depending each upon his own resources; and that is why you band yourselves together, so that when you find yourselves individually inferior to others, whether in wealth or in friends or in any other respect, you may together prove stronger than any one of your enemies and so check his insolence.

Now, some such ready plea as this will be submitted to you: Why did not So-and-so, who suffered this or that at my hands, try to obtain redress from me? Or why did not So-and-so?—naming perhaps another of his victims. But I expect you all know the stock excuses for shirking the duty of self-defence—want of leisure, a distaste for affairs, inability to speak, lack of means, and a thousand such reasons.

I do not, however, think that Meidias has any right to use such language now; his duty is to prove that he has not done what I have accused him of doing, and if he cannot, then he deserves death all the more. For if he is so powerful that he can act like this and yet prevent you individually from obtaining satisfaction from him, you ought all of you, in common and on behalf of all, now that he is in your grasp, to punish him as the common enemy of the State.

History tells us that Alcibiades lived at Athens in the good old days of her prosperity, and I want you to consider what great public services stand to his credit and how your ancestors dealt with him when he thought fit to behave like a ruffian and a bully. And assuredly it is not from any desire to compare Meidias with Alcibiades that I mention this story. I am not so foolish or infatuated. My object, men of Athens, is that you may know and feel that there is not, and never will be, anything—not birth, not wealth, not power—that you, the great mass of citizens, ought to tolerate, if it is coupled with insolence.