Against Meidias

Just think. The instant this court rises, each of you will walk home, one quicker, another more leisurely, not anxious, not glancing behind him, not fearing whether he is going to run up against a friend or an enemy, a big man or a little one, a strong man or a weak one, or anything of that sort. And why? Because in his heart he knows, and is confident, and has learned to trust the State, that no one shall seize or insult or strike him.

That sense of security, then, with which you walk the streets—will you not guarantee it to me before you set off home? How can I reasonably expect to survive after what I have suffered, if you leave me in the lurch? Perhaps someone will say, Take heart! You will not be insulted again. But if I am, will you be angry with him then, after acquitting him now? Do not, gentlemen of the jury, do not betray me or yourselves or the laws.

For if you would only examine and consider the question, what it is that gives you who serve on juries such power and authority in all state-affairs, whether the State empanels two hundred of you or a thousand or any other number, you would find that it is not that you alone of the citizens are drawn up under arms, not that your physical powers are at their best and strongest, not that you are in the earliest prime of manhood; it is due to no cause of that sort but simply to the strength of the laws.

And what is the strength of the laws? If one of you is wronged and cries aloud, will the laws run up and be at his side to assist him? No; they are only written texts and incapable of such action. Wherein then resides their power? In yourselves, if only you support them and make them all-powerful to help him who needs them. So the laws are strong through you and you through the laws.

Therefore you must help them as readily as any man would help himself if wronged; you must consider that you share in the wrongs done to the laws, by whomsoever they are found to be committed; and no excuse—neither public services, nor pity, nor personal influence, nor forensic skill, nor anything else—must be devised whereby anyone who has transgressed the laws shall escape punishment.

Those of you who were spectators at the Dionysia hissed and hooted Meidias when he entered the theater; you gave every indication of your abhorrence, though you had not yet heard what I had to say about him. Were you so indignant before the case was investigated, that you urged me to demand vengeance for my wrongs and applauded me when I brought my plaint before the Assembly?

And yet now, when his guilt has been established, when the people, sitting in a sacred building, have anticipated his condemnation, when all the other crimes of this miscreant have been sifted, when it has fallen to your lot to be his judges and it lies in your power to conclude the whole affair by a single vote—now, I say, will you hesitate to succor me, to gratify the people, to give all a lesson in sobriety, and to enjoy perfect safety for the rest of your lives, by making an example of the defendant for the instruction of others?

Therefore for all the reasons that I have urged, and above all for the honor of the god whose festival he has been convicted of profaning, punish this man by casting the vote which piety and justice alike demand.