Rhetorical appeals in Lysias and Antiphon

Lysias 1: On the Murder of Eratosthenes

1.1I should be only too pleased, sirs, to have you so disposed towards me in judging this

case as you would be to yourselves, if you found yourselves in my plight. For I am sure

that, if you had the same feelings about others as about yourselves, not one of you but

would be indignant at what has been done; you would all regard the penalties appointed

for those who resort to such practices as too mild. 1.2And these feelings would be found,

not only among you, but in the whole of Greece: for in the case of this crime alone,

under both democracy and oligarchy, the same requital is accorded to the weakest

against the strongest, so that the lowest gets the same treatment as the

highest. note Thus you see, sirs, how all men abominate this outrage. 1.3Well, I conceive

that, in regard to the severity of the penalty, you are all of the same mind, and that not

one of you is so easygoing as to think it right that men who are guilty of such acts should

obtain pardon, or to presume that slight penalties suffice for their deserts. 1.4But I take it,

sirs, that what I have to show is that Eratosthenes had an intrigue with my wife, and not

only corrupted her but inflicted disgrace upon my children and an outrage on myself by

entering my house; that this was the one and only enmity between him and me; that I

have not acted thus for the sake of money, so as to raise myself from poverty to wealth;

and that all I seek to gain is the requital accorded by our laws. 1.5I shall therefore set

forth to you the whole of my story from the beginning; I shall omit nothing, but will tell the

truth. For I consider that my own sole deliverance rests on my telling you, if I am able,

the whole of what has occurred.

1.6When I, Athenians, decided to marry, and brought a wife into my house, for some time

I was disposed neither to vex her nor to leave her too free to do just as she pleased; I

kept a watch on her as far as possible, with such observation of her as was reasonable.

But when a child was born to me, thence-forward I began to trust her, and placed all my

affairs in her hands, presuming that we were now in perfect intimacy. 1.7It is true that in

the early days, Athenians, she was the most excellent of wives; she was a clever, frugal

housekeeper, and kept everything in the nicest order. But as soon as I lost my mother,

her death became the cause of all my troubles. 1.8For it was in attending her funeral that

my wife was seen by this man, who in time corrupted her. He looked out for the servant-

girl who went to market, and so paid addresses to her mistress by which he wrought her

ruin. 1.9Now in the first place I must tell you, sirs (for I am obliged to give you these

particulars), my dwelling is on two floors, the upper being equal in space to the lower,

with the women's quarters above and the men's below. When the child was born to us,

its mother suckled it; and in order that, each time that it had to be washed, she might

avoid the risk of descending by the stairs, I used to live above, and the women

below. 1.10By this time it had become such an habitual thing that my wife would often

leave me and go down to sleep with the child, so as to be able to give it the breast and

stop its crying. Things went on in this way for a long time, and I never suspected, but

was simple-minded enough to suppose that my own was the chastest wife in the

city. 1.11Time went on, sirs; I came home unexpectedly from the country, and after

dinner the child started crying in a peevish way, as the servant-girl was annoying it on

purpose to make it so behave; for the man was in the house— 1.12I learnt it all later. So I

bade my wife go and give the child her breast, to stop its howling. At first she refused, as

though delighted to see me home again after so long; but when I began to be angry and

bade her go, —“Yes, so that you,”she said, “may have a try here at the little maid. Once

before, too, when you were drunk, you pulled her about.” 1.13At that I laughed, while she

got up, went out of the room, and closed the door, feigning to make fun, and she took

the key away with her. I, without giving a thought to the matter, or having any suspicion,

went to sleep in all content after my return from the country. 1.14Towards daytime she

came and opened the door. I asked why the doors made a noise in the night; she told

me that the child's lamp had gone out, and she had lit it again at our neighbor's. I was

silent and believed it was so. But it struck me, sirs, that she had powdered her

face, note though her brother had died not thirty days before; even so, however, I made

no remark on the fact, but left the house in silence. 1.15After this, sirs, an interval

occurred in which I was left quite unaware of my own injuries; I was then accosted by a

certain old female, who was secretly sent by a woman with whom that man was having

an intrigue, as I heard later. This woman was angry with him and felt herself wronged,

because he no longer visited her so regularly, and she was keeping a watch on him until

she should discover what was the cause. 1.16So the old creature accosted me where

she was on the look-out, near my house, and said,—“Euphiletus, do not think it is from

any meddlesomeness that I have approached you; for the man who is working both your

and your wife's dishonor happens to be our enemy. If, therefore, you take the servant-girl

who goes to market and waits on you, and torture her, you will learn all. It is,” she said,

“Eratosthenes of Oe who is doing this; he has debauched not only your wife, but many

others besides; he makes an art of it.” 1.17With these words, sirs, she took herself off; I

was at once perturbed; all that had happened came into my mind, and I was filled with

suspicion,—reflecting first how I was shut up in my chamber, and then remembering how

on that night the inner and outer doors made a noise, which had never occurred before,

and how it struck me that my wife had put on powder. All these things came into my

mind, and I was filled with suspicion. 1.18Returning home, I bade the servant-girl follow

me to the market, and taking her to the house of an intimate friend, I told her I was fully

informed of what was going on in my house: “So it is open to you,” I said, “to choose as

you please between two things,—either to be whipped and thrown into a mill, and to be

irrevocably immersed in that sort of misery, or else to speak out the whole truth and,

instead of suffering any harm, obtain my pardon for your transgressions. Tell no lies, but

speak the whole truth.” 1.19The girl at first denied it, and bade me do what I pleased, for

she knew nothing; but when I mentioned Eratosthenes to her, and said that he was the

man who visited my wife, she was dismayed, supposing that I had exact knowledge of

everything. At once she threw herself down at my knees, and having got my pledge that

she should suffer no harm, 1.20she accused him, first, of approaching her after the

funeral, and then told how at last she became his messenger; how my wife in time was

persuaded, and by what means she procured his entrances, and how at the

Thesmophoria note, while I was in the country, she went off to the temple with his mother.

And the girl gave an exact account of everything else that had occurred. 1.21When her

tale was all told, I said,—“Well now, see that nobody in the world gets knowledge of this;

otherwise, nothing in your arrangement with me will hold good. And I require that you

show me their guilt in the very act; I want no words, but manifestation of the fact, if it

really is so.” She agreed to do this. 1.22Then came an interval of four or five days as I

shall bring strong evidence to show. But first I wish to relate what took place on the last

day. I had an intimate friend named Sostratus. After sunset I met him coming from the

country. As I knew that, arriving at that hour, he would find none of his circle at home, I

invited him to dine with me; we came to my house, mounted to the upper room, and had

dinner. 1.23When he had made a good meal, he left me and departed; then I went to

bed. Eratosthenes, sirs, entered, and the maid-servant roused me at once, and told me

that he was in the house. Bidding her look after the door, I descended and went out in

silence; I called on one friend and another, and found some of them at home, while

others were out of town. 1.24I took with me as many as I could among those who were

there, and so came along. Then we got torches from the nearest shop, and went in; the

door was open, as the girl had it in readiness. We pushed open the door of the bedroom,

and the first of us to enter were in time to see him lying down by my wife; those who

followed saw him standing naked on the bed. 1.25I gave him a blow, sirs, which knocked

him down, and pulling round his two hands behind his back, and tying them, I asked him

why he had the insolence to enter my house. He admitted his guilt; then he besought

and implored me not to kill him, but to exact a sum of money. 1.26To this I replied, “It is

not I who am going to kill you, but our city's law, which you have transgressed and

regarded as of less account than your pleasures, choosing rather to commit this foul

offence against my wife and my children than to obey the laws like a decent person.”

1.27Thus it was, sirs, that this man incurred the fate that the laws ordain for those who do

such things; he had not been dragged in there from the street, nor had he taken refuge

at my hearth note, as these people say. For how could it be so, when it was in the

bedroom that he was struck and fell down then and there, and I pinioned his arms, and

so many persons were in the house that he could not make his escape, as he had

neither steel nor wood nor anything else with which he might have beaten off those who

had entered? 1.28But, sirs, I think you know as well as I that those whose acts are

against justice do not acknowledge that their enemies speak the truth, but lie themselves

and use other such devices to foment anger in their hearers against those whose acts

are just. So, first read the law.Law

1.29He did not dispute it, sirs: he acknowledged his guilt, and besought and implored that

he might not be killed, and was ready to pay compensation in money. But I would not

agree to his estimate, as I held that our city's law should have higher authority; and I

obtained that satisfaction which you deemed most just when you imposed it on those

who adopt such courses. Now, let my witnesses come forward in support of these

statements.Witnesses

1.30Read out also, please, that law from the pillar in the Areopagus.Law

You hear, sirs, how the Court of the Areopagus itself, to which has been assigned, in our

own as in our fathers' time, the trial of suits for murder, has expressly stated that

whoever takes this vengeance on an adulterer caught in the act with his spouse shall not

be convicted of murder. 1.31And so strongly was the lawgiver convinced of the justice of

this in the case of wedded wives, that he even applied the same penalty in the case of

mistresses, who are of less account. Now surely it is clear that, if he had had any

heavier punishment than this for the case of married women, he would have imposed it.

But in fact, as he was unable to devise a severer one for this case, he ordained that it

should be the same for that of mistresses also. Please read this law besides.Law

1.32You hear, sirs, how it directs that, if anyone forcibly debauches a free adult or child,

he shall be liable to double note damages; while if he so debauches a woman, in one of

the cases where it is permitted to kill him, he is subject to the same rule. Thus the

lawgiver, sirs, considered that those who use force deserve a less penalty than those

who use persuasion; for the latter he condemned to death, whereas for the former he

doubled the damages, 1.33considering that those who achieve their ends by force are

hated by the persons forced; while those who used persuasion corrupted thereby their

victims' souls, thus making the wives of others more closely attached to themselves than

to their husbands, and got the whole house into their hands, and caused uncertainty as

to whose the children really were, the husbands' or the adulterers'. In view of all this the

author of the law made death their penalty. 1.34Wherefore I, sirs, not only stand

acquitted of wrongdoing by the laws, but am also directed by them to take this

satisfaction: it is for you to decide whether they are to be valid or of no account. 1.35For

to my thinking every city makes its laws in order that on any matter which perplexes us

we may resort to them and inquire what we have to do. And so it is they who, in cases

like the present, exhort the wronged parties to obtain this kind of satisfaction. 1.36I call

upon you to support their opinion: otherwise, you will be giving adulterers such licence

that you will encourage thieves as well to call themselves adulterers; since they will feel

assured that, if they plead this reason in their defence, and allege that they enter other

men's houses for this purpose, nobody will touch them. For everyone will know that the

laws on adultery are to be given the go-by, and that it is your vote that one has to fear,

because this has supreme authority over all the city's affairs.

1.37Do but consider, sirs, what they say: they accuse me of ordering the maid-servant on

that day to go and fetch the young man. Now I, sirs, could have held myself justified in

using any possible means to catch the corrupter of my wife. For if I had bidden the girl

fetch him, when words alone had been spoken and no act had been committed, I should

have been in the wrong: but if, when once he had compassed all his ends, and had

frequently entered my house, I had then used any possible means to catch him, I should

have considered myself quite in order. 1.39And observe how on this point also they are

lying: you will perceive it easily in this way. As I told you, sirs, before, Sostratus was a

friend of mine, on intimate terms with me; he met me as he came from the country about

sunset, and had dinner with me, and when he had made a good meal he left me and

departed. Now in the first place, sirs, you must bear this in mind: 1.40if on that night I had

designs on Eratosthenes, which was more to my advantage, —to go and take my dinner

elsewhere, or to bring in my guest to dinner with me? For in the latter case that man

would have been less likely to venture on entering my house. And in the second place,

do you suppose that I should have let my dinner guest go and leave me there alone and

unsupported, and not rather have bidden him stay, in order that he might stand by me in

taking vengeance upon the adulterer? 1.41Then again, sirs, do you not think that I should

have sent word to my intimate acquaintances in the daytime, and bidden them assemble

at the house of one of my friends living nearest to me, rather than have waited till the

moment of making my discovery to run round in the night, without knowing whom I

should find at home, and who were away? Thus I called on Harmodius, and one other,

who were not in town —of this I was not aware—and others, I found, were not in; but

those whom I could I took along with me. 1.42Yet if I had foreknown this, do you not think

that I should have called up servants and passed the word to my friends, in order that I

might have gone in myself with all possible safety, —for how could I tell whether he too

had some weapon? —and so I might have had as many witnesses as possible with me

when I took my vengeance? But as in fact I knew nothing of what was to befall on that

night, I took with me those whom I could. Now let my witnesses come forward in support

of all this.Witnesses

1.43You have heard the witnesses, sirs; and consider this affair further in your own

minds, asking yourselves whether any enmity has ever arisen before this between me

and Eratosthenes. I say you will discover none. For he had neither subjected me to

slanderous impeachment, nor attempted to expel me from the city, nor brought any

private suit against me, nor was he privy to any wrongdoing which I was so afraid of

being divulged that I was intent on his destruction, nor, should I accomplish this, had I

any hope of getting money from anywhere: for there are people who plot each other's

death for such purposes. 1.45So far, indeed, from either abuse or a drunken brawl or any

other quarrel having occurred between us, I had never even seen the man before that

night. For what object, then, should I run so grave a risk, unless I had received from him

the greatest of injuries? 1.46Why, again, did I choose to summon witnesses for my

wicked act, when it was open to me, if I was thus criminally intent on his destruction, to

have none of them privy to it?

1.47I therefore, sirs, do not regard this requital as having been exacted in my own private

interest, but in that of the whole city. For those who behave in that way, when they see

the sort of reward that is in store for such transgressions, will be less inclined to trespass

against their neighbors, if they see that you also take the same view. 1.48Otherwise it

were better far to erase our established laws, and ordain others which will inflict the

penalties on men who keep watch on their own wives, and will allow full immunity to

those who would debauch them. 1.49This would be a far more just way than to let the

citizens be entrapped by the laws; these may bid a man, on catching an adulterer, to

deal with him in whatever way he pleases, but the trials are found to be more dangerous

to the wronged parties than to those who, in defiance of the laws, dishonor the wives of

others. 1.50For I am now risking the loss of life, property and all else that I have, because

I obeyed the city's laws.

Lysias 3: Against Simon (Defense)

3.1Although I was aware of much that was outrageous about Simon, gentlemen of the

Council, I did not believe that he would ever have carried audacity to the pitch of lodging

a complaint as the injured party to a case where he was the person who should be

punished, and of taking that great and solemn affidavit note and so coming before

you. 3.2Now if it were any other court that was to make a decision upon me, I should be

terrified by the danger, considering what strange machinations and chances occur at

times to cause a variety of surprises to those who are standing their trial: but as it is

before you that I appear, I hope to obtain justice. 3.3What especially vexes me,

gentlemen, is that I shall be compelled to speak to you of the facts of this case: for it was

my feeling of shame at the mere thought of these becoming widely known that made me

put up with my wrongs. But since Simon has placed me in such a necessity, I will relate

to you the whole of the facts without the slightest reserve. 3.4If I am guilty, gentlemen, I

expect to get no indulgence; but if I prove my innocence as regards the counts of

Simon's affidavit, while for the rest you consider my attitude towards the boy too

senseless for a man of my age, I ask you not to think the worse of me for that, since you

know that all mankind are liable to desire, but that he may be the best and most

temperate who is able to bear its misfortunes in the most orderly spirit. All my efforts in

this way have been thwarted by the plaintiff Simon, as I shall make clear to you.

3.5We felt desire, gentlemen, for Theodotus, a Plataean boy; and while I looked to win

his affection by kindness, this man thought by outrage and defiance of the law to compel

him to accede to his wishes. To tell all the ill-treatment that the boy has suffered from

him would be a lengthy business: but I think it proper that you should hear the numerous

offences he has committed against myself. 3.6Hearing that the boy was at my house, he

came there at night in a drunken state, broke down the doors, and entered the women's

rooms: within were my sister and my nieces, whose lives have been so well-ordered that

they are ashamed to be seen even by their kinsmen note. 3.7This man, then, carried

insolence to such a pitch that he refused to go away until the people who appeared on

the spot, and those who had accompanied him, feeling it a monstrous thing that he

should intrude on young girls and orphans, drove him out by force. Far from repenting of

his outrageous proceedings, he found out where we were dining, and acted in the

strangest, the most incredible manner, as it might seem to those unacquainted with his

madness. 3.8He called me out of doors, and, as soon as I went outside, made an

immediate attempt to strike me. When I beat him off, he stood out of reach and began

pelting me with stones. He missed me, but Aristocritus, who had accompanied him to my

house, was struck by a stone which broke his forehead. 3.9So I, gentlemen, feeling

myself grossly ill-used, but ashamed—as I have already told you before—at my

misfortune, put up with it, and preferred to go without satisfaction for the offences rather

than be thought lacking in sense by the citizens: for I knew that, while his actions would

be found appropriate to his wickedness, I should be derided for the treatment I received

by a number of people who are in the habit of resenting my ambition that one may show

for a good standing in the city. 3.10I was so perplexed, gentlemen, in face of this man's

lawless behavior, that I decided that it would be best for me to reside abroad. So I took

the boy (since the whole truth must be told), and left the city. When I thought it was time

enough for Simon to have forgotten the young fellow, and also to have repented of his

former offences, I came back again. 3.11I betook myself to the Peiraeus; but this

man,observing immediately that Theodotus had arrived and was staying with

Lysimachus,—who lived hard by the house that this man had rented—invited some of

his friends to join him: they all had luncheon and drank, and they posted watchers on the

roof so that,when the boy should come out, they might seize upon him. 3.12At this

moment I arrived from the Peiraeus, and in passing I turned into Lysimachus's house:

after spending some little time there, we came out. Then those people, already drunk,

sprang out upon us; some of his party refused to join in his criminal action, but Simon

here, and Theophilus, Protarchus and Autocles began dragging the boy along. He,

however, flung off his cloak and ran away. 3.13Then I, expecting that he would make

good his escape, while they, if they met anybody, would at once turn aside from a feeling

of shame,— with this conclusion I took myself off by another street; so careful I was to

give them a wide berth, for I regarded all the proceedings of these men as a grievous

misfortune to myself. 3.14Thus, on the spot where Simon says that the fight occurred,

nobody on either their or my side had his head broken or received any other hurt: as

witnesses to all this I will produce to you the persons who were then present.Witnesses

3.15That this man, then, was the wrongdoer, gentlemen, and that he had designs on us,

and not I on him, has been testified to you by those who were then present. After this the

boy took refuge in a fuller's shop; but these men dashed in after him and laid violent

hands on him, while he shouted and cried out and called the bystanders to

witness. 3.16A crowd of people came running up, and protested against their action,

which they declared a monstrous proceeding: these men gave no heed to anything that

was said, but gave a severe beating to Molon the fuller and some others who were

endeavoring to protect the lad. 3.17They had already got as far as Lampon's when I,

walking by myself, met with them; and considering it a monstrous and shameful thing to

stand by and see the young fellow subjected to such lawless and violent outrage, I

seized hold of him. They, when asked why they were treating him in such lawless

fashion, refused to answer, but letting the young fellow go they began to beat me. 3.18A

battle ensued, gentlemen; the boy was pelting them and defending his person, while

they were pelting us; they also, in their do.drunkenness, were beating him and I was

defending myself, and the others present were all supporting. us, as being the injured

party; and in this brawl we all of us got our heads broken. 3.19The others whom Simon

had led into this drunken assault, at their first sight of me after the affair begged my

pardon, as men who, so far from suffering injury, had acted in a monstrous way; and

though since that time four years have elapsed, nobody has ever brought any charge

against me. 3.20Simon here, who was the author of all the trouble, kept quiet for some

time, in fear for himself; but when he became aware that I had failed in a private suit on

a challenge to an exchange of property, note he conceived a contempt for me and, with

the audacity that you now see, has involved me in this serious prosecution. Now, as

witnesses to show that here too I am speaking the truth, I will produce to you the

persons who were present on the occasion.Witnesses

3.21So now you have heard from the witnesses as well as myself the story of what took

place; and I could wish, gentlemen, that Simon had the same intentions as I, so that

after hearing the truth from us both you might have arrived with ease at the just decision.

But since he cares nothing for the oaths that he has sworn, I will try also to inform you

concerning the lies that he has told. 3.22He had the audacity to state that on his part he

had given three hundred drachmae to Theodotus, under an agreement made with him,

and that I by intrigue seduced the boy from him. And yet, if this was true, it was for him

to summon as many witnesses as he could and pursue the matter in accordance with

our laws. 3.23But it does not appear that he has ever done anything of the sort, but only

that he has outraged and beaten us both, and has revelled and broken in doors and

intruded on free women by night. 3.24You ought to take all this, gentlemen, as primary

proof that he is lying to you. And then, consider how incredible his statements are. He

has valued his property altogether at two hundred and fifty drachmae: yet how surprising

that he should hire his companion for more than he himself in fact possesses! 3.25And

he has carried audacity to such lengths that it does not suffice him merely to lie about

this matter of having given the money, but he even says that he has recovered it! Yet

how is it likely that I first committed such a crime as he has laid to my charge—of

seeking to deprive him of his three hundred dracmae note— and then, after we had had

our affray, paid him back the money, without either obtaining a quittance of all claims or

being subjected to any compulsion? 3.26Why, gentlemen, this is all mere invention and

artifice of his: he says that he gave it, so as to avoid the scandal of daring to commit

such an outrage on the lad without any bargain struck between them; and he pretends

that he has got it back, because it is clear that he never laid a claim to money or made

the least mention of the matter. note

3.27He says that I gave him a beating at the door of his house, which left him in a terrible

state. But we find that he pursued the boy for more than four stades note from his house

with no sign of injury, and I this he denies, although it was seen by more than two

hundred people.

3.28He states that we went to his house with potsherds in our hands, and that I

threatened to kill him, and that this is premeditation. But I think that this lie of his,

gentlemen, is easily detected, not only by you who are used to investigating this sort of

case, but by everyone else as well. 3.29For who can find it credible that by a

premeditated manoeuvre I went to Simon's house after daybreak with the boy, when so

many people had gathered about him, unless I had become so utterly insane as to be

eager to fight them all single— handed; especially when I knew that he would have been

delighted to see me at his door,—he who in fact kept coming to my house, and entered it

by force, and, disregarding both my sister and my nieces, had the audacity to seek me

out, and having discovered where I happened to be dining called me out and beat

me? 3.30And so, as it seems, I, who at first, to avoid notoriety, kept quiet, taking this

man's wickedness to be so much misfortune to myself, was yet after a lapse of time, as

he says, converted to a desire for notoriety! 3.31Now if the boy had been living with him,

there could be some show of reason in his lie that I was driven by my desire to an act of

quite improbable folly: but the fact is that the boy would not even talk to him, but hated

him more than anyone in the world, and was actually living with me.

3.32So who of you can believe that I previously left the city on a voyage with the boy to

avoid a fight with this man, and then, when I had got back, I took him to Simon's house,

where I was to expect most embarrassment? And though I had designs on him, I came

utterly unprepared, without calling to my aid either friends or servants or anybody at all,

save only this child, who would have been unable to support me, but was capable of

giving information under torture note upon any crime that I might commit! 3.34But such

was the depth of my stupidity that, having my design against Simon, I did not look out for

him where he might be caught alone, whether by night or by day, but went to the place

where I should find most people to see me and cut me to pieces, as though I were

contriving my premeditation against myself, with a view to getting the utmost amount of

outrage from my enemies!

3.35And besides, gentlemen, from the very fight that took place you can easily perceive

that he lies. When the boy saw what was on hand, he flung off his cloak and ran away:

these men pursued him, while I took myself off by another street. Now which party

should be held responsible for such affairs, those who flee, or those who seek to

capture? In my opinion it is obvious to all that those flee who are in fear for themselves,

and those pursue who mean to do some hurt. 3.37And this is not a case of a probable

thing having turned out otherwise in fact: no, they caught the boy and were dragging him

by force out of his way, when I met them, and without touching these men I took hold of

the boy; whereas they not only dragged him by force, but also beat me. All this has been

testified to you by those who were present. So it will be extraordinary if I am held to have

premeditated any of those things wherein these men are found to have so monstrously

transgressed the laws.

3.38How, pray, should I have been treated, if the case I were the opposite of what has

now occurred; if I, with a number of my associates had gone to meet Simon, and fought

with him, beaten him, pursued and caught him, and then tried to drag him by force, if, as

it is, and when it is he who has done all these things, I have been subjected to

proceedings like the present, in which I risk the loss of both my native land and all the

property that I possess? 3.39But here is the strongest and most striking proof of all: the

man who was wronged and victimized by me—as he says—did not dare for four years to

denounce me before you. Everyone else, when in love, and deprived of the object of

desire, and battered with blows, immediately in his anger seeks redress; but this man

seeks it long afterwards.

3.40So, gentlemen, that I am not to blame for any of these occurrences has, I conceive,

been sufficiently proved. And observe the spirit in which I treat quarrels arising from this

sort of affair: although I had suffered a variety of outrages at Simon's hands, and had

even had my head broken by him, I could not bring myself to denounce him, as I felt it

extravagant, just because of a mutual rivalry over a child, to press for a man's expulsion

from his native land. 3.41Besides, I did not see that there was any premeditation of

wounding in the case of a man who gave a wound without meaning to kill. For who is so

simple as to premeditate a long time ahead how some enemy of his shall come by a

wound? 3.42Why, it is clear that even the makers of our laws did not think well, when

people happened in a fight to break each other's heads, to make it a case for

banishment from their country; else they would have exiled a goodly number. But in the

case of any persons who, designing to kill, wounded others without being able to kill

them, they appointed the punishment in that degree of severity, judging it meet that

where they had shown design and premeditation they should pay the penalty: though if

they might not have succeeded, none the less their best efforts had been

exerted. note 3.43And in this way you have decided, many a time in the past, on this point

of premeditation. Extraordinary, indeed, it would be, if in all cases of wounds received

through some drunken rivalry, or game, or abuse, or in a fight for a mistress,—affairs of

which everyone repents on better consideration,—you are to inflict a punishment of such

awful severity as that of expelling any of our citizens from their native land.

3.44I wonder most of all at this man's temperament. For it does not seem to me that the

same person can be both a lover and a slanderer, since the former implies the simpler

sort of man, and the latter the most villainous. I could wish that I were allowed to expose

this man's wickedness before you in all its other effects, so that you might understand

how in justice he ought far rather to be on trial for his life than bringing others into peril of

losing their native land. 3.45I will, however, pass over all those things, and will mention

not one which I consider you ought to hear, as being a sure proof of his brazen-faced

audacity. In Corinth, where he arrived after our battle with the enemy and the expedition

to Coronea note he fought with the taxiarch note Laches and gave him a beating; and when

the citizens had set forth in full military strength, he was specially noted for

insubordination and knavery, and was the only Athenian ordered by the generals to be

banned by herald.

3.46I could go on to relate many other things regarding this man; but, since it is not lawful

to speak in your court beyond the limits of the case, I ask you to reflect on this: it was

these men who forced their way into our house, they who pursued us, and they who

forcibly seized and dragged us out of our path. 3.47Remembering these things, give your

vote for justice, and do not suffer me to be unjustly ejected from my native land, for

which I have braved many dangers and performed many public services: no harm have I

ever brought upon that land, nor has any of my ancestors; nay, many are the benefits

that we have brought her. 3.48Justly, then, should I receive your pity, and that of all men

else, not merely if I should meet with such a fate as Simon wishes, but even for having

been compelled, as a result of such transactions, to stand my trial on such a charge.

Antiphon 1: Prosecution Of The Stepmother For Poisoning1.1

Not only am I still too young to know anything of courts of law, gentlemen; but I am also

faced with a terrible dilemma. On the one hand, how can I disregard my father's solemn

injunction to bring his murderers to justice? On the other hand, if I obey it, I shall

inevitably find myself ranged against the last persons with whom I should quarrel, my

half-brothers and their mother. 1.2Circumstances for which the defence have only

themselves to blame have made it necessary that my charge should be directed against

them, and them alone. One would have expected them to seek vengeance for the dead

and support the prosecution; but as it is, the opposite is the case; they are themselves

my opponents and the murderers, as both I and my indictment note state.1.3

Gentlemen, I have one request. If I prove that my opponents' mother murdered our

father by malice aforethought, after being caught not merely once, but repeatedly, in the

act of seeking his life, note then first avenge the outrage against your laws, that heritage

from the gods and your forefathers which enables you to sentence the guilty even as

they did; and secondly avenge the dead man, and in so doing give me, a lonely orphan,

your aid. 1.4For you are my kin; those who should have avenged the dead and

supported me are his murderers and my opponents. So where is help to be sought,

where is a refuge to be found, save with you and with justice?1.5

I am at a loss indeed to understand the feelings which have led my brother to range

himself against me. Does he imagine that his duty as a son consists simply in loyalty to

his mother? To my mind, it is a far greater sin to neglect the avenging of the dead man;

and the more so since he met his doom as the involuntary victim of a plot, whereas she

sent him to it by deliberately forming that plot. 1.6Further, it is not for my brother to say

that he is quite sure his mother did not murder our father for when he had the chance of

making sure, by torture, he refused it; he showed readiness only for those modes of

inquiry which could yield no certainty. Yet he ought to have been ready to do what I in

fact challenged him to do, so that an honest investigation of the facts might have been

possible; 1.7because then, if the slaves had admitted nothing, he would have confronted

me with a vigorous defence based on certainty, and his mother would have been cleared

of the present charge. But after refusing to inquire into the facts, how can he possibly be

certain of what he refused to find out? [How, then, is it to be expected, gentlemen of the

jury, that he should be sure of facts about which he has not learned thetruth? note]1.8

What reply does he mean to make to me? He was fully aware that once the slaves were

examined under torture his mother was doomed; and he thought that her life depended

upon the avoiding of such an examination, as he and his companions imagined that the

truth would in that event be lost to sight. How, then, is he going to remain true to his oath

as defendant, note if he claims to be in full possession of the facts after refusing to make

certain of them by accepting my offer of a perfectly impartial investigation of the matter

by torture? 1.9In the first place, I was ready to torture the defendants' slaves, who knew

that this woman, my opponents' mother, had planned to poison our father on a previous

occasion as well, that our father had caught her in the act, and that she had admitted

everything— save that it was not to kill him, but to restore his love that she alleged

herself to be giving him the potion. 1.10Owing, then, to the nature of the slaves' evidence,

I proposed to have their story tested under torture after making a written note of my

charges against this woman; and I told the defence to conduct the examination

themselves in my presence, so that the slaves might not give forced answers to

questions put by me. I was satisfied to have the written questions used; and that in itself

should afford a presumption in my favour that my search for my father's murderer is

honest and impartial. Should the slaves resort to denial or make inconsistent statements,

my intention was that the torture should force from them the charges which the facts

demanded: for torture will make even those prepared to lie confine their charges to the

truth.1.11

I am quite sure, though, that had the defence approached me with an offer of their

slaves directly they learned that I intended to proceed against my father's murderer, only

to meet with a refusal of the offer, they would have produced that refusal as affording the

strongest presumption of their innocence of the murder. As it is, it was I who in the first

place volunteered to conduct the examination personally, and in the second told the

defence to conduct it themselves in my stead. Surely, then, it is only logical that this

corresponding offer and refusal should afford a presumption in my favour that they are

guilty of the murder. 1.12Had I refused an offer of theirs to hand over their slaves for

torture, the refusal would have afforded a presumption in their favour. The presumption,

then, should similarly be in my favour, if I was ready to discover the truth of the matter,

while they refused to allow me to do so. In fact, it is amazing to me that they should try to

persuade you not to find them guilty, after refusing to decide their case for themselves

by handing over their slaves for torture.1.13

In the matter of the slaves, then, it is quite clear that the defence were themselves

anxious to avoid ascertaining the facts. The knowledge that the crime would prove to lie

at their own door made them desirous of leaving it wrapped in silence and

uninvestigated. But you will not do this, gentlemen, as I know full well; you will bring it

into the light. Enough, though; I will now try to give you a true statement of the facts: and

may justice guide me.1.14

There was an upper room in our house occupied by Philoneos, a highly respected friend

of our father's, during his visits to Athens. Now Philoneos had a mistress a whom he

proposed to place in a brothel. note My brother's mother made friends with her; 1.15and on

hearing of the wrong intended by Philoneos, she sends for her, informing her on her

arrival that she herself was also being wronged by our father. If the other would do as

she was told, she said, she herself knew how to restore Philoneos' love for her and our

father's for herself. She had discovered the means; the other's task was to carry out her

orders. 1.16She asked if she was prepared to follow her instructions, and, I imagine,

received a ready assent.

Later, Philoneos happened to have a sacrifice to perform to Zeus Ctesius note in

Peiraeus, while my father was on the point of leaving for Naxos. So Philoneos thought

that it would be an excellent idea to make one journey of it by seeing my father as far as

Peiraeus, offering the sacrifice, and entertaining his friend. 1.17Philoneos' mistress

accompanied him to attend the sacrifice. On reaching Peiraeus, Philoneos of course

carried out the ceremony. When the sacrifice was over, the woman considered how to

administer the draught: should she give it before or after supper? Upon reflection, she

decided that it would be better to give it afterwards, thereby carrying out the suggestion

of this Clytemnestra here. note 1.18Now it would take too long for me to furnish or for you

to listen to a detailed description of the meal so I shall try to give you as brief an account

as I can of the administration of the poison which followed.

After supper was over, the two naturally set about pouring libations and sprinkling some

frankincense to secure the favour of heaven, as the one was offering sacrifice to Zeus

Ctesius and entertaining the other, and his companion was supping with a friend and on

the point of putting out to sea. 1.19But Philoneos' mistress, who poured the wine for the

libation, while they offered their prayers—prayers never to be answered, gentlemen—

poured in the poison with it. Thinking it a happy inspiration, she gave Philoneos the

larger draught; she imagined perhaps that if she gave him more, Philoneos would love

her the more: for only when the mischief was done did she see that my stepmother had

tricked her. She gave our father a smaller draught. 1.20So they poured their libation, and,

grasping their own slayer, drained their last drink on earth. Philoneos expired instantly;

and my father was seized with an illness which resulted in his death twenty days later. In

atonement, the subordinate who carried out the deed has been punished as she

deserved, although the crime in no sense originated from her: she was broken on the

wheel and handed over to the executioner; and the woman from whom it did originate,

who was guilty of the design, shall receive her reward also, if you and heaven so

will. note1.21

Now mark the justice of my request as compared with my brother's. I am bidding you

avenge once and for all time him who has been wrongfully done to death; but my brother

will make no plea for the dead man, although he has a right to your pity, your help, and

your vengeance, after having had his life cut short in so godless and so miserable a

fashion by those 1.22who should have been the last to commit such a deed. No, he will

appeal for the murderess; he will make an unlawful, a sinful, an impossible request, to

which neither heaven nor you can listen. He will ask you to refrain from punishing a

crime which the guilty woman could not bring herself to refrain from committing. But you

are not here to champion the murderers: you are here to champion the victims willfully

murdered, murdered moreover by those who should have been the last to commit such

a deed. Thus it now rests with you to reach a proper verdict; see that you do so.1.23

My brother will appeal to you in the name of his in mother who is alive and who killed her

husband with out thought and without scruple; he hopes that if he is successful, she will

escape paying the penalty for her crime. I, on the other hand, am appealing to you in the

name of my father who is dead, that she may pay it in full; and it is in order that

judgement may come upon wrongdoers for their misdeeds that you are yourselves

constituted and called judges. 1.24I am prosecuting to ensure that she pays for her crime

and to avenge our father and your laws wherein you should support me one and all, if

what I say is true. My brother, on the contrary, is defending this woman to enable one

who has broken the laws to avoid paying for her misdeeds. 1.25Yet which is the more

just: that a willful murderer should be punished, or that he should not? Which has a

better claim to pity, the murdered man or the murderess? To my mind, the murdered

man: because in pitying him you would be acting more justly and more righteously in the

eyes of gods and men. So now I ask that just as this woman put her husband to death

without pity and without mercy, so she may herself be put to death by you and by

justice; 1.26for she was the willful murderess who compassed his death: he was the

victim who involuntarily came to a violent end. I repeat, gentlemen, a violent end; for he

was on the point of sailing from this country and was dining under a friend's roof, when

she, who had sent the poison, with orders that a draught be given him, murdered our

father. What pity, then, what consideration, does a woman who refused to pity her own

husband, who killed him impiously and shamefully, deserve from you or anyone

else? 1.27Involuntary accidents deserve such pity: not deliberately planned crimes and

acts of wickedness. Just as this woman put her husband to death without respecting or

fearing god, hero, or human being, so she would in her turn reap her justest reward were

she herself put to death by you and by justice, without finding consideration, sympathy,

or respect.1.28

I am astounded at the shameless spirit shown by my brother. To think that he swore in

his mother's defence that he was sure of her innocence! How could anyone be sure of

what he did not witness in person? Those who plot the death of their neighbors do not, I

believe, form their plans and make their preparations in front of witnessess; they act as

secretly as possible and in such a way that not a soul knows; 1.29while their victims are

aware of nothing until they are already trapped and see the doom which has descended

upon them. Then, if they are able and have time before they die, they summon their

friends and relatives, call them to witness, tell them who the murderers are, and charge

them to take vengeance for the wrong; 1.30just as my father charged me, young as I

was, during his last sad illness. Failing this, they make a statement in writing, call their

slaves to witness, and reveal their murderers to them. My father told me, and laid his

charge upon me, gentlemen, not upon his slaves, young though I still was. 1.31I have

stated my case; I have championed the dead man and the law. It is upon you that the

rest depends; it is for you to weigh the matter and give a just decision. The gods of the

world below are themselves, I think, mindful of those who have been wronged. note