Against Aristogeiton I

Men of Athens, he serves no purpose that he claims to serve, but he has turned his attention to an abominable and disgusting trick. In the Assembly he recklessly abuses and attacks all alike, and for all the misrepresentations that he thus foists upon you collectively, he gets his remuneration from each of you separately, when he descends from the platform, by threatening prosecution and by demanding and extorting money.[*](Editors confess themselves unable to understand the drift of this sentence.) Not from the orators, you may be sure: they know how to throw mud back at him: but from the inexperienced private citizens, as those know who have felt his blows.

But perhaps, while admitting the truth of this, you will say that you consider him a useful servant of the State, so that we must overlook all this and spare him. Men of Athens, when you have had practical experience of something, you should never take a merely theoretical view of it. This man had no dealings with you in the five years when he was deprived of the right to address you. Well, who in all that time regretted him? What neglect of the city’s interests has anyone observed in consequence of his absence, or what improvement now that he is allowed to speak? On the contrary, it seems to me that as long as he did not come before you, the city had respite from the troubles that he caused to everyone, but since he started his harangues again, Athens is in a state of siege from the factious and unruly speeches that he delivers at every meeting of the Assembly.

I will now trench upon a dangerous topic and offer some remarks to those who, for these reasons, admire him. How such persons ought to be regarded, you shall judge for yourselves; I will say nothing myself, except that they are not wise in taking his part. Now of you who are here in court, I assume that this does not apply to any: it is only fair, men of Athens, and honorable and proper that I should both say and think that of you.

But of the rest of our citizens—to confine the reproach to as few as possible—his pupil, or, if you like, his teacher, Philocrates of Eleusis, is the only one whom I account as such, not as if there were not more (for I would that no one else found satisfaction in Aristogeiton), but I have no right publicly to bring a charge against other citizens which I shrink from bringing against you. Moreover the argument, though it applies to one man alone, will have the same force.

I will not discuss too minutely what character we must assign to an admirer of Aristogeiton, for fear lest I should be committed to a long tirade of vituperation. But one thing I will say. If Aristogeiton is in plain language a rascally and malicious blackmailer, the sort of man in fact that he professes to be, then you have my hearty consent, Philocrates, to support one who so closely resembles you; because, if every one else does his duty and upholds the law, I do not think that your attitude will produce any effect.

But if he is a jobber and pedlar and retail-dealer in wickedness, if he has all but sold by scale and balance every action of his whole life, why, you silly fellow, do you egg him on? Surely a cook has no use for a knife that does not cut, and in the same way a man who wants by his own efforts to cause trouble and annoyance to everybody has no use for a blackmailer who is ready to sell such services.

That, I may tell you, is the sort of man the defendant is, though you now it already. You remember how he sold the impeachment of Hegemon. You know how he threw up his brief against Demades. At the trial of Agathon, the olive-merchant, a day or two ago, he bellowed and ranted and cried Ha-ha! and threw the Assembly into confusion, saying it was a case for the rack; and after pocketing some trifle or other, though he was present at his acquittal, he kept his mouth shut. He held the threat of impeachment over Democles’ head, and what did he make of it? There are thousands of other cases. I should find it a task to mention them all, but you, who were his jackal, must have notes of them.

Then what man, be he good or bad, wants to spare such a fellow? Why spare one who is the betrayer of those who resemble him, and the foe, by instinct and by inheritance, of good men; unless one thinks that the State should preserve, as a farmer might do, the seed and stock of the blackmailer and rascal? But that would be a disgrace, men of Athens; yes, by Heaven! and I account it an impiety too. I cannot believe that your ancestors built you these law-courts as a hotbed for rogues of this sort, but rather to enable you to check and chastise them, until no man shall admire or covet vice.

Depravity may prove a difficult thing to check. When Aristogeiton, for acknowledged misdeeds, is only now on his trial and has not been put to death long ago, what is one to do or say? His wickedness has reached such a pitch that after information had been laid against him, he did not cease to bluster and blackmail and threaten; and because the generals, to whom you have entrusted the most important interests, refused to give him money, he said that they did not deserve to be appointed inspectors of latrines.

This affront did not touch the generals—no, for they could have silenced his abuse by paying him a trifling sum, but it was a gross insult to your action as electors and a proof of his own depravity. The officials chosen by lot he worried with his demands, extorting money from them and sparing them no insult. And now his latest exploit is to stir up confusion and dissension among us all by publishing false letters, for he was born to be the bane of all men, and his character is clearly shown by his life.

Just consider. There are something like twenty thousand citizens in all. Every single one of them frequents the market-place on some business (you may be sure), either public or private. Not so the defendant. He cannot point to any decent or honorable business in which he has spent his life; he does not use his talents in the service of the State; he is not engaged in a profession or in agriculture or in any other business; he takes no part in any charitable or social organization:

but he makes his way through the market-place like a snake or a scorpion with sting erect, darting hither and thither, on the look-out for someone on whom he can call down disaster or calumny or mischief of some sort, or whom he can terrify till he extorts money from him. He never calls at the barber’s or the perfumer’s or any other shop in the city. He is implacable, restless, unsociable; he has no charity, no friendliness, none of the feelings of a decent human being; he is attended by those companions whom painters couple with the damned souls in hell—by Malediction, Evil-speaking, Envy, Faction, Dissension.

This man, then, who is likely to find no mercy from the powers below, but to be thrust out among the impious for the depravity of his life—this man, when you have caught him doing wrong, will you not only decline to punish, but actually dismiss him with greater rewards than you would bestow on your benefactors? For what defaulter to the treasury have you ever allowed to enjoy full rights, unless he paid his debt? Not one! Then do not grant this favour to the defendant now, but punish him and make him a warning to the others.

The sequel too, men of Athens, is worth hearing. What you have just heard from Lycurgus is serious, or, rather, impossible to exaggerate, but the rest will be found to rival it and to be of the same character. Not content with abandoning his father in prison when he quitted Eretria, as you have heard from Phaedrus, this unnatural ruffian refused to bury him when he died, and would not refund the expenses to those who did bury him, but actually brought a law-suit against them.

Not content with offering violence to his mother, as you have just heard from witnesses, he actually sold his own sister—not indeed a sister by the same father, but his mother’s daughter, whatever her parentage (for I pass that by)—yes, sold his sister for export, as is stated in the indictment of the action which was brought against him on these grounds by his good brother here, who in the present action will help to defend him.

All this is bad enough, Heaven knows; but you shall hear another dreadful performance. On the occasion when he broke prison and ran away, he visited a certain woman named Zobia, with whom he had probably cohabited at one time. She kept him in safe hiding during the first few days, when the police were searching and advertising for him, and then she gave him eight drachmas journey-money and a tunic and a cloak and packed him off to Megara.

When this same woman, who had been such a benefactress, complained to him, seeing that he was giving himself airs and making a great show here among you, and when she reminded him of her services and claimed some recompense, on the first occasion he cuffed her and threatened her and turned her out of his house. But when she persisted and, woman-like, went about among her acquaintance with complaints of his conduct, he seized her with his own hands and dragged her off to the auction-room at the aliens’ registry, and if her tax had not happened to be duly paid, she would have been put up for sale, thanks to this man who owed his safety to her.

To prove the truth of this statement, please call the man who buried the defendant’s father without payment, and also the arbitrator in the action which the witness here in court brought against him for the sale of his sister, and produce the indictment. But first of all please summon the protector of Zobia, who gave him shelter, and the sale-commissioners before whom he carried her. You yourselves just now expressed your indignation at his accusing the man who had contributed towards his defence. Athenians, he is an unclean beast; his touch is pollution. Read the depositions.

The depositions are read

What penalty is adequate for a man who has committed such offences? What retribution does he deserve? To my thinking death is too light a sentence.

One more instance, then, of his private crimes, and I will pass over the rest. Before Aristogeiton was released, a man of Tanagra was thrown into the prison until he could find bail. Aristogeiton accosts him and, while chatting on some topic or other, filches the pocket-book that he had on him; and when the man charged him with the theft and made a to-do about it, saying that no one else could have taken it, he so far forgot all decency that he tried to strike him.