Against Meidias

Now I am certain, men of Athens, that everyone would admit that the offences of Meidias were much more serious than those of any of these men, of whom one, as I have shown, forfeited the damages he had already received, while the other was actually punished with death. For Meidias, not being in a procession, not having won a suit, not acting as assessor, having in fact no other motive than insolence, behaved worse than any of them. About them I will say no more;

but Pyrrhus, men of Athens, one of the Eteobutadae, who was indicted for serving on a jury when he was in debt to the Treasury, was thought by some of you to deserve capital punishment, and he was convicted in your court and put to death. And yet it was from poverty, not from insolence, that he tried to get the juryman’s fee. And I could mention many others who were put to death or disfranchised for far slighter offences than those of Meidias. You yourselves, Athenians, fined Smicrus ten talents and Sciton a similar sum, because he was adjudged to be proposing unconstitutional measures; you had no pity for their children or friends and relations, or for any of those who supported them in court.

Do not, then, display such anger when people make unconstitutional proposals, and such indulgence when not their proposals, but their acts are unconstitutional. For no mere words and terms can be so galling to the great mass of you as the conduct of a man who persistently insults any citizen who crosses his path. Beware, Athenians, of bearing this testimony against yourselves, that if you detect a man of the middle class or a friend of the people committing an offence, you will neither pity nor reprieve him, but will punish him with death or disfranchisement, while you are ready to pardon the insolence of a rich man. Spare us that injustice, and show your indignation impartially against all offenders.

There are some other points that I consider no less necessary to mention than those which I have already put before you. I will mention them and discuss them briefly before I sit down. The leniency of your disposition, men of Athens, is a great asset and advantage to all wrongdoers. Give me, then, your attention while I show that you have no right to admit Meidias to the least share in that advantage. My view is that all men during their lives pay contributions to their own fortunes,[*](See note on Dem. 21.101.) not only those which are actually collected and paid in, but others also.

For instance, one of us is moderate, kindly disposed and merciful: he deserves to receive an equivalent return from all, if he ever falls into want or distress. Yonder is another, who is shameless and insulting, treating others as if they were beggars, the scum of the earth, mere nobodies: he deserves to be paid with the same measure that he has meted to others. If you will consent to look at it in a true light, you will find that this, and not the former, is the kind of contribution that Meidias has made.

Now I know that he will set up a wail, with his children grouped about him, and will make a long and humble appeal, weeping and making himself as pitiable a figure as he can. But the more he humiliates himself, Athenians, the more he deserves your hatred. Why so? If in his past life he was so brutal and violent because it was impossible for him to be humble, it would be right to abate some of your anger as a concession to his natural temper and to the destiny that made him the man he is; but if he knows how to behave discreetly when he likes, but has deliberately chosen the opposite line of conduct, it is surely obvious that, if he slips through your fingers now, he will once more prove himself the man you know so well.

Pay no attention to him; do not let the present crisis in his affairs, expressly invented by him, carry more weight and influence with you than the whole course of his life, of which you have direct knowledge. I have no children to pose before you, while I weep and wail over them for the insults I have received. For that reason shall I, the victim, be of less account in your court than the perpetrator of the wrong? It must not be.

When Meidias, with his children round him, calls you to cast your votes for them, then you must imagine that I am standing here with the laws by my side and the oath that you have sworn, demanding and imploring each of you to vote for them. It is in every way more just that you should side with the laws than with this man. The laws, Athenians, you have sworn to obey; through the laws you enjoy your equal rights; to the laws you owe every blessing that is yours—not to Meidias nor to the children of Meidias.

Perhaps he will say of me, This man is an orator. If an orator is one who offers you such counsel as he thinks expedient for you, yet stops short of pestering or bullying you, then for my part I would neither shun nor disclaim that title. But if by orator he means one of those speakers such as you and I so often see, men who have shamelessly enriched themselves at your expense, I cannot be one, for I have never received a penny from you and I have spent upon you all but a trifle of my fortune. Yet even if I were the most unscrupulous of that gang, I ought rather to be punished according to the laws than insulted in the performance of a public service.

Then again, none of these orators supports me in this trial; nor do I blame them, for I have never said a word in public in support of one of them. I make it a fixed rule to take my own line, speaking and acting in whatever way I believe to be for your advantage. But you will see very soon that Meidias has all the orators in turn ranged on his side. Yet is it fair in him to brand me with the reproach of that title and then to depend on these very men to rescue him?

Perhaps too he will say something of this sort; that my present speech is all carefully thought out and prepared. I admit, Athenians, that I have thought it out, and I should not dream of denying it; yes, and I have spent all possible care on it. I should be a poor creature if all my wrongs, past and present, left me careless of what I was going to say to you about them. Yet the real composer of my speech is Meidias.

The man who has furnished the facts with which the speeches deal ought in strict justice to bear that responsibility, and not the man who has devoted thought and care to lay an honest case before you today. That is what I am doing, men of Athens; to that I plead guilty. As for Meidias, he has probably never in his life troubled himself about honesty, for if it had entered his head even for a moment to consider such a thing, he would not have missed it so completely in practice.

Again, I expect that he will not shrink from vilifying the people and the Assembly, but will repeat what he had the effrontery to say when the plaint was first brought in: that the meeting was composed of men who had stayed at home when they ought to have gone to the front and who had left their posts unguarded, and that he was condemned by the votes of chorus-men and aliens and the like.

As those of you who were present know, gentlemen, he had risen on that occasion to such a height of bravado and impudence that, by abusing and threatening and turning his glance to any quarter of the Assembly that was inclined to be obstreperous, he thought he could browbeat the whole body of citizens. That, I think, must surely make his tears today seem ridiculous. Execrable wretch, what have you to say?

Will you claim pity for your children and yourself or a kindly interest in your fortunes from these men whom you have already insulted publicly? Are you alone of living men privileged to be in your daily life so notoriously possessed of the demon of arrogance that even those who have no dealings with you are exasperated by your assurance, your tones and gestures, your parasites, your wealth and your insolence; and then, the instant you are put on your trial are you to be pitied?

It would be indeed a great method that you have devised, or, rather, a great trick, if you could in so short a time make yourself the object of two contradictory sentiments, rousing resentment by your way of life and compassion by your mummeries. You have no conceivable claim to compassion; no, not for an instant. On the contrary, hatred, resentment and wrath—those are what your conduct calls for. But let me come back to my point, that he intends to arraign the people and the Assembly.

Now when he does so, just reflect, gentlemen of the jury, that this same man brought accusations against the cavalry who had served with him, coming into the Assembly after they had sailed for Olynthus; and now once more, having stayed at home, he will address his denunciation of the people to the men who were then away on service. Are you, then, prepared to admit that you, whether at home or on service, are what Meidias proclaims you to be, or on the contrary that he is, and always has been, an unhallowed ruffian? That is my own opinion of him; for how else are we to describe a creature whom his own troopers, his brother-officers and his friends cannot stomach?

I swear solemnly by Zeus, by Apollo, and by Athena—for I will speak out, whatever the result may be—for when this man was going about, trumping up the story that I had abandoned the prosecution, I observed signs of disgust even among his ardent supporters. And by heaven! they had some excuse, for there is no putting up with the fellow; he claims to be the only rich man and the only man who knows how to speak; all others are in his opinion outcasts, beggars, below the rank of men.

Since he stands on such an eminence of pride, what do you think he will do, if he escapes now? I will tell you how you may know it; you have only to observe the signs that followed the adverse vote. For who is there that, if an adverse vote had been recorded, and that on a charge of profaning the feast, even if there had been no further suit pending and no danger ahead,—who is there, I say, that would not have made that a reason for effacing himself and behaving decently, at any rate until the time of the trial, if not for ever after? Anyone else would have acted so. But not Meidias.

From that day onwards he has been talking, railing, and bellowing. Is there an election on? Meidias of Anagyrus is a candidate. He is the accredited agent of Plutarchus; he knows all the secrets; the city cannot hold him. His object in all this is obvious;he wants to proclaim that I am not a pin the worse for the vote of the people: I have no fears or misgivings about the pending action.