st any point in my conduct of affairs
or any counsels I may have brought to our public meetings; but he rather
casts reflections upon my private life, and charges me with a
criminal silence.

Moreover, in order that no circumstance may escape his calumny, he
attacks my habits of life when I was in school with my young companions;
and even in the introduction of his speech he will say that I have begun
this prosecution, not for the benefit of the State, but because I want
to make a show of myself to Alexander and gratify Alexander's resentment
against him. He purposes, as I learn, to ask why I blame his
administration as a whole, and yet never hindered or indicted any one
separate act; why, after a considerable interval of attention to public
affairs, I now return to prosecute this action....

But what I am now about to notice--a matter which I hear Demosthenes
will speak of--about this, by the Olympian deities, I cannot but feel a
righteous indignation. He will liken my speech to the Sirens', it seems,
and the legend anent their art is that those who listen to them are not
charmed, but destroyed; wherefore the music of the Sirens is not in good
repute. Even so he will aver that knowledge of my words and myself is a
source of injury to those who listen to me. I, for my part, think it
becomes no one to urge such allegations against me; for it is a shame if
one who makes charges cannot point to facts as full evidence. And if
such charges must be made, the making surely does not become
Demosthenes, but rather some military man--some man of action--who has
done good work for the State, and who, in his untried speech, vies with
the skill of antagonists because he is conscious that he can tell no one
of his deeds, and because he sees his accusers able to show his audience
that he had done what in fact he never had done. But when a man made up
entirely of words,--of sharp words and overwrought sentences,--when he
takes refuge in simplicity and plain facts, who then can endure
it?--whose tongue is like a flute, inasmuch as if you take it away the
rest is nothing....

This man thinks himself worthy of a crown--that his honor should be
proclaimed. But should you not rather send into exile this common pest
of the Greeks? Or will you not seize upon him as a thief, and avenge
yourself upon him whose mouthings have enabled him to bear full sail
through our commonwealth? Remember the season in which you cast your
vote. In a few days