Exordia

I should have wished, men of Athens, that you treat yourselves with that benevolence which you are accustomed to practise toward all other peoples. As it now is, you are better at rectifying the woes of others than you are at taking to heart the troubles which befall yourselves. Someone may perhaps say, of course, that this is exactly what brings the greatest glory to the State—to have deliberately chosen to assume many risks for the sake of sheer justice with no thought of selfish advantage. Now, while I for one believe this reputation which prevails concerning the State to be true and desire it to be, yet I assume it also to be an obligation of prudent men to exercise as much foresight in their domestic affairs as in those of strangers, so that you may show yourselves to be not only men of goodwill but sensible also.

Perhaps it really is the duty, men of Athens, of one who wishes to recommend some measure to you to attempt to speak in such a way that you will find it possible to hear him to the end; but otherwise his duty is to leave aside all other themes and discuss only those matters you are considering, and these as briefly as possible. For I do not think it due to any lack of speeches that now once more you observe all your affairs to be in a muddle, but the reason is that some are orating and playing politics for their own gain, and others, who have so far not given evidence of this offence, are more concerned to be thought good speakers than that some concrete good may be effected by what they say. As for me, that I may not unwittingly do the opposite of what I myself say is right, and say more about other matters than about those of which I have risen to speak, I shall disregard all other topics and endeavor to tell you forthwith what I recommend.