Against Androtion

Then do you suppose that all these men are his inveterate enemies merely because he collected this money from them? Is it not rather because he said of one of them, in the hearing of all of you in the Assembly, that he was a slave and born of slaves and ought by rights to pay the contribution of one-sixth with the resident aliens[*](The metoeci paid tax on one-sixth of their capital; but possibly, as Mr. Wayte has suggested, they paid the same quotas as the citizen, plus an additional charge of one-sixth.); and of another that he had children by a harlot; of this man that his father had prostituted himself; of that man that his mother had been on the streets; that he was making an inventory of one man’s peculations from the start of his career, that another had done this or that, and that a third had committed every conceivable crime—slandering them all in turn?

I feel sure that of all whom he has abused in his cups, each one looked upon the tax as a necessary item of expenditure, but has been deeply wounded by all these indignities and insults. I feel sure too that he was elected by you to collect money due, and not to reproach every man with his private misfortunes and so make them public. For if the charges were true, Androtion (and we all have our undesirable experiences), you had no right to publish them; and if you invented them without any authority, is any punishment too light for you?

Here is yet another proof that will convince you that they all hate him, not because of the collection, but for his acts of drunken insolence. Satyrus, the superintendent of the dock-yards, collected for you not seven, but thirty-four talents from these very same men, and used the money to equip the ships that were put in commission; and he can tell you that he has made no enemies in consequence, and that none of those from whom he levied the taxes is at open war with him. Naturally! He, I suppose, simply discharged the duty assigned to him, but you in your wanton, headstrong effrontery, being armed with authority, thought fit to terse with foul and lying reproaches men who had spent large sums on the State, better men than yourself and of better birth.

After this, are the jury to believe that you did it all for their sakes? Are they to make themselves responsible for your acts of callous wickedness? They ought in justice to detest you all the more for this rather than protect you. For the man who is acting for the State ought to imitate the spirit of the State, and you, Athenians, ought to encourage such men and hate men like the defendant. For though you are probably aware of it, I must none the less tell you this: whatever sort of men you are seen to honor and protect, you will be thought to be like them yourselves.

[*](The rest of this speech is almost entirely repeated in that against Timocrates, Dem. 24.172-186.) However, I will make it quite clear to you without more ado that he did not carry out these exactions for your benefit at all. If he were asked whether, in his opinion, the greater injury is done to the common wealth by tillers of the soil, who live frugally, but, because of the cost of maintaining their children, or of household expenses, or of other public burdens, are behindhand with their taxes, or by people who plunder and squander the money of willing taxpayers and the revenue that comes from our allies, I am sure that, for all his hardihood, he would never have the audacity to reply that those who fail to contribute their own money are worse transgressors than those who embezzle public money.

What is the reason, you abominable wretch, that though you have taken part in public life for more than thirty years, and though during that time many commanders have defrauded the commonwealth, and many politicians as well, who have been tried in this court, and though some of them have suffered death for their crimes, and others have slipped away into exile, you never once appeared as prosecutor of any of them or expressed any indignation at the wrongs of the city, bold and clever speaker though you are, but made your first exhibition of anxiety for our welfare on an occasion that called for harsh treatment of a great many people?

Do you wish me to tell you the reason, men of Athens?

He has his share in the proceeds of certain iniquities, and he also gets his pickings from the collection of revenue. In his insatiable greed he reaps a double harvest from the State. Now it is not an easier matter to make enemies of a multitude of petty offenders than of a few big offenders; neither of course is it a more popular thing to have an eye for the sins of the many than for the sins of the few. However, the reason is what I am telling you.

If you had confessed, men of Athens, that you are a nation of slaves and not of men who claim empire over others, you would never have put up with the insults which he repeatedly offered you in the marketplace, binding and arresting aliens and citizens alike, bawling from the platform in the Assembly, calling men slaves and slave-born who were better men than himself and of better birth, and asking if the jail was built for no object. I should certainly say it was, if your father danced his way out of it, fetters and all, at the procession of the Dionysia. All his other outrages it would be impossible to relate; they are too numerous. For all of them taken together you must exact vengeance today, and make an example of him to teach the rest to behave with more restraint.

Yes, it may be said, this is the sort of man he was in his public conduct, but there are other things which he has managed with credit. On the contrary, in every respect his behavior towards his fellow-citizens has been such that the story you have heard is the least of the reasons you have for hating him. What do you wish me to mention? How he repaired the processional ornaments? How he broke up the crowns? His success as a manufacturer of saucers? Why, for those performances alone, though he had committed no other fraud on the city, it seems to me he deserves not one but three sentences of death; for he is guilty of sacrilege, of impiety, of embezzlement, of every monstrous crime.

The greater part of the speech by which he threw dust in your eyes I will leave unnoticed; but, by alleging that the leaves of the crowns were rotten with age and falling off,—as though they were violet-leaves or rose-leaves, not leaves made of gold—he persuaded you to melt them down. And then, in providing for the collection of taxes, he had put in a clause that the public accountant should attend. That was very honest of him; only every taxpayer was certain to check the accounts. But in dealing with the crowns that he was to break up, he left out that very proper regulation; one and the same man was orator, goldsmith, business manager, and auditor of accounts.

Now if you, sir, had claimed our entire confidence in all your public business, your dishonesty would not have been equally manifest; but, seeing that in the matter of the taxes you laid down the just principle that the city must trust, not you, but her own servants, and then, when you took up another job and were tampering with the consecrated plate, some of it dedicated before we were born, you forgot to provide the precaution that was taken at your own instance in respect of the tax collection, is it not perfectly clear what you were aiming at? Of course it is.

Again, men of Athens, consider those glorious and enviable inscriptions that he has obliterated for all time, and the strange and blasphemous inscriptions that he has written in their stead. You all, I suppose, used to see the words written under the circlets of the crowns: The Allies to the Athenian People for valor and righteousness, or The Allies to the Goddess of Athens, a prize of victory; or, from the several states of the alliance, Such-and-such a City to the People by whom they were delivered, or, The liberated Euboeans, for example, crown the People; or again, Conon from the sea-fight with the Lacedaemonians. Such, I say, were the inscriptions of the crowns.

They were tokens of emulation and honorable ambition; but now they have vanished with the destruction of the crowns, and the saucers which that lewd fellow has had made in their place bear the inscription, Made by direction of Androtion. And so the name of a man whom the laws forbid to enter our temples in person because of his prostitution, has been inscribed on the cups in those temples. Just like the old inscriptions, is it not? and an equal incentive to ambition?

You may, then, mark three scandalous crimes committed by these persons. They have robbed the Goddess of her crowns. They have extinguished in the city that spirit of emulation that sprang from the achievements which the crowns, while in being, commemorated. They have deprived the donors of a great honor,—the credit of gratitude for benefits received. After this long series of evil deeds they have grown so callous and so audacious that they recall those crimes as admirable examples of their administration, so that one of them expects you to acquit him for the sake of the other, and the other sits by his side and does not sink into the ground for shame at his conduct.

Not only is he lost to shame when money is in question, but he is so dull-witted that he cannot see that crowns are a symbol of merit, but saucers and the like only of wealth; that every crown, how ever small, implies the same regard for honor as if it were large. that drinking-cups and censers, if very numerous, attach to their owners a sort of reputation for wealth, but that, if a man takes pride in trifles, instead of winning some honor by them, he is disdained as a man of vulgar tastes. This man, then, has destroyed the possessions of honor, and made the possessions of wealth mean and unworthy of your dignity.

There is another thing that he did not understand, that the Athenian democracy, never eager to acquire riches, coveted glory more than any other possession in the world. Here is the proof: once they possessed greater wealth than any other Hellenic people, but they spent it all for love of honor; they laid their private fortunes under contribution, and recoiled from no peril for glory’s sake. Hence the People inherits possessions that will never die; on the one hand the memory of their achievements, on the other, the beauty of the memorials set up in their honor, yonder Propylaea, the Parthenon, the porticoes, the docks,—not a couple of jugs, or three or four bits of gold plate, weighing a pound apiece, which you, Androtion, will propose to melt down again, whenever the whim takes you.

To dedicate those buildings they did not tithe themselves, nor fulfil the imprecations of their enemies by doubling the income-tax, nor was their policy ever guided by such advisers as you. No; they conquered their enemies, they fulfilled the prayers of every sound-hearted man by establishing concord throughout the city; and so they have bequeathed to us their imperishable glory, and excluded from the market-place men whose habits of life were what yours have always been.

But you, men of Athens, have grown so extremely good-natured and pliable, that, with those examples ever before you, you do not imitate them, and Androtion is the repairer of your processional plate. Androtion! Gracious Heavens! Do you think impiety could go further than that? I hold that the man who is to enter the sacred places, to lay hands on the vessels of lustration and the sacrificial baskets, and to become the director of divine worship, ought not to be pure for a prescribed number of days only; his whole life should have been kept pure of the habits that have polluted the life of Androtion.