Against Aristogeiton I

You see what the defendant is, when the laws are in force: what do you think he would do, if the laws were done away with? Since then it is admitted that, next after the gods, the laws preserve the State, it is the duty of all of you to act just as if you were sitting here making up a contribution to your club.[*](πληρωταί seems to mean either those who pay the contribution or those who see that it is paid.) If a man obeys the laws, respect and commend him for paying his contribution in full to the welfare of his fatherland; if he disobeys them, punish him.

For everything done at the bidding of the laws is a contribution made to the State and the community. Whoever leaves it unpaid, men of Athens, is depriving you of many great, honorable, and glorious benefits, which he is destroying to the best of his ability.

One or two of these benefits I will name for the sake of example, choosing the best known.

The Council of the Five Hundred, thanks to this barrier,[*](The wooden lattice-work doorway, giving admission through the bar to the council-chamber or law-court. The corresponding Lat. term is cancelii.) frail as it is, is master of its own secrets, and no private citizen can enter it. The Council of the Areopagus, when it sits roped off in the King’s Portico, enjoys complete freedom from disturbance, and all men hold aloof.

All the magistrates who are chosen from you by lot, as soon as the attendant cries Strangers must withdraw, control the laws which they were appointed to administer and cannot be disturbed by the most unruly. There are thousands of other benefits. All the noble and reverend qualities that adorn and preserve our city,—sobriety, orderliness, the respect of your younger men for parents and elders—hold their own, backed by the laws, against the base qualities of indecency, audacity, and shamelessness. For vice is vigorous, daring, and grasping; on the other hand probity is peaceful, retiring, inactive, and terribly liable to come off second-best. Therefore those of you who sit upon juries ought to protect and strengthen the laws, for with the help of the laws the good overcome the bad.

If not, all is dissolved, broken up, confounded, and the city becomes the prey of the most profligate and shameless. For tell me this, in Heaven’s name; if everyone in the city copied the audacity and shamelessness of Aristogeiton and argued in the same way as he, that in a democracy a man has an unlimited right to say and do whatever he likes, as long as he does not care what reputation such conduct will bring him, and that no one will put him to death at once for any of his misdoings;

if, acting on this principle, the citizen rejected at the ballot or at the election should put himself on an equality with the chosen citizen; if, in a word, neither young nor old should do his duty, but each man, banishing all discipline from life, should regard his own wish as law, as authority, as all in all—if, I say, we should act like this, could the government continue to be carried on? What? Would the laws be any longer valid? What violence, insolence and lawlessness there would be throughout the city every day! What scurrility instead of our present decency of language and behavior!

Why need one repeat that order is everywhere maintained by the laws and by obedience to the laws? You yourselves have the sole right of judging our case, though every Athenian was in the ballot and all, I am sure, wanted to be allotted to this court. Why is this? Because by lot you were chosen and then assigned to this case. Those are the instructions of the law. And then will you, who owe your presence here to the laws, allow a man, who flouts the laws by word and deed, to escape from your grasp? Will none of you show anger or bitterness at this shameless ruffian’s defiance of the laws?

Vilest of all living men! Shut out from your right of speech, not by barriers or doors which any man might break open, but by so many heavy penalties, which are registered in the temple of the Goddess, you are trying to force your way in and to approach those precincts from which the laws exclude you. Debarred by every right that holds good in Athens, by the decisions of three tribunals, by the registers of the archons and of the collectors of taxes, by the indictment for wrongful entry in which you yourself are the plaintiff, curbed, I might almost say, by chains of steel, you wriggle and force your way through all and imagine that by weaving excuses and trumping up false charges you can overturn all the principles of justice.

I will, however, by a clear and forcible example show the jury that they ought not to overlook such conduct; no, not in a single particular. Imagine for a moment that someone proposed that speakers in the Assembly should be confined to the youngest citizens, or to the richest, or to those who had performed a public service, or to some similar category. I am sure you would have him put to death for trying to overthrow the democracy. And indeed you would be justified.

Yet any one of these proposals is less dangerous than if it were proposed that speakers should belong to one of the classes to which the defendant belongs—law-breakers, jail-birds, sons of criminals put to death by the people, citizens disqualified after obtaining office by lot, public debtors, men totally disfranchised, or men who by repute and in fact are utter rascals. All these descriptions fit the defendant and apply to those who resemble him in disposition. I think, men of Athens, that he deserves death both for what he is doing now and much more, or at least no less, for what he obviously will do, if he gets the power and opportunity from you; which Heaven forfend!

It is also strange if anyone of you is ignorant that for nothing that is honorable or useful or worthy of our city is he of any use. May Zeus and all the gods grant that Athens may never be so short of real men that any honorable task should have to be performed by an Aristogeiton! We ought to pray Heaven that the occasion may never arise for which such a monster could be found useful. But should it possibly arise, it would be a greater blessing for the city that those who wish for its fall should lack the instrument of their designs than that this fellow should be released and ready to their hand.

For what fatal or dangerous act will he shrink from, men of Athens,—this polluted wretch, infected with hereditary hatred of democracy? What other man would sooner overthrow the State, if only—which Heaven forbid!—he should gain the power? Do you not see that his character and his policy are not guided by reason or by self-respect, but by recklessness?[*](We have no exact equivalent for this Greek word; moral insanity has been suggested. Read the 16th Characterof Theophrastus with Jebb’s commentary.) Or rather, his policy is sheer recklessness. Now that is the very worst quality for its possessor, terribly dangerous for everyone else, and for the State intolerable. For the reckless man has lost all control of himself, all hope of rational safety, and can only be saved, if at all, by some unexpected and incalculable accident.

Who, then, that is wise would bind up his own or his country’s interests with this failing? Who would not shun it as far as possible, and keep its possessor at arm’s length, that he may not be involved in it even against his will? Patriotic statesmen, Athenians, ought to seek out some adviser who will contribute, not recklessness, but intelligence, sound judgement, and ample forethought; for these qualities conduct all men to happiness; the other leads to that goal for which Aristogeiton is bound.

In considering this question, look not at my speech, but at the general character of mankind. All our cities contain shrines and temples of all the gods, and among them is one of Athena, Our Lady of Forethought,[*](The goddess with a temple at the entrance to the precincts of Apollo at Delphi was Ἀθήνη Προναία, whom the Pytho addresses at the beginning of the Eumenides (Aesch. Eum. 21 and to whom Croesus offered a golden shield (Hdt. 1.92). Perhaps by popular etymology she became the goddess of Providence, which title she is named also in Aeschines (Aeschin. 3.108). Pausanias mentions both titles (Paus. 9.10.2 and Paus. 10.8.6).) worshipped as a beneficent and powerful goddess, and close to the temple of Apollo at Delphi, immediately as you enter the precincts, she has a large and beautiful temple. Apollo, a god and prophet both, knows what is best. But there is no temple of Recklessness or of Shamelessness.

Of Justice too and Order and Modesty all men have shrines, some, the fairest and holiest, in the very heart and soul of each man, and others built for the common worship of all. But none is raised to Shamelessness or Chicanery or Perjury or Ingratitude—all qualities of the defendant.

Now I know that he will avoid the straight and honest path of defence, and will take a devious course, abusing, slandering, and threatening to prosecute, arrest, imprison, and the like. But he will find all this futile, if you duly attend to the case; for which of these tricks has not been exposed over and over again?

To pass over other occasions, seven times, Aristogeiton, have you indicted me, when you had taken the pay of Philip’s agents, and twice you accused me at my audit. As a mere mortal I pay my respects to Nemesis, and I am deeply grateful both to the gods and to all the citizens of Athens for their protection. But as for you, it was never once found that you had spoken the truth; you were always convicted of chicanery. If, then, these gentlemen make the laws invalid by acquitting you today, will you convict me now? On what charge?

I ask the jury to reflect. For two years he has been asserting his claim to address you, though it is illegal for him to do so; but he speaks all the same. All that time he saw the State injured by the wretched Phocides, by the coppersmith from Peiraeus, by the tanner, and by all the others whom he has accused in your courts; but had he no eyes for me, the orator with whom he was at open war, or for Lycurgus, or for the other orators about whom he will have so much to say presently? Yet either way he deserves death; in the one case, if he had a charge against us that he could prove, but passed it over to assail private citizens, or on the other hand, if he has no charge against us, but wants to deceive and hoodwink you by his statements.

If there really is in our city a man whose disposition prompts him diligently to search for someone ready to accuse and blackmail others, but who does not trouble himself about the justice or injustice of the charges, he could not find an agent less fitted for his purpose than the defendant. And why? Because one who is prepared to accuse others and bring them all to trial, ought to be himself unimpeachable, so that his victims may not escape through his own wickedness. But no one in the city has a record of more numerous and more serious crimes than the defendant.

Now what is the defendant? He is the watch dog of the democracy, cry his friends. Yes, but what sort of dog? One that never snaps at those whom he accuses of being wolves, but himself devours the sheep he pretends to guard. To which of the orators has he done so much harm as to the private citizens against whom he has been convicted of moving unlawful decrees? What statesman has he brought to trial, since he again took to public speaking? Not a single one-but plenty of private citizens. But they say that dogs who taste mutton ought to be cut to bits; so the sooner he is cut up the better.