I objected. “But that would be lying!”
“Yes, that’s the usual way to win a court case. Don’t talk so loudly, they’ll hear you.”
For the defense we had but two witnesses. The first was Pericles himself. He gave a simple account of the discovery of Ephialtes.
The second witness was Pythax. He gave an accurate account of my appearance at the barracks and the discovery of the bow, and certified it had been made by Brasidas. He ended by describing my struggle with Aristodicus and the ending of it.
The next day the trial began in earnest at dawn. It was held fittingly upon the Rock of the Areopagus, within the chamber of the Council. For a crime of this type, and given the importance of the victim, there were more than the usual number of dicasts assigned to hear it. Pericles scanned them as they filed in and said to me, “A thousand and one in the jury.”
“Is that good?” I asked anxiously.
He shrugged. “It’s both good and bad. The more dicasts, the bigger an audience we have to play to, and the more the trial hinges on who can entertain them the best. That’s good for us because Conon is a boring pedagogue whereas I am a great speaker,” said the modest Pericles. “On the other hand, large juries often provide closer results. Whether your notoriety will work for or against us I don’t know.”
“I’m notorious?”
“You should hear what they’re saying in the Agora.”
The dicasts sat along both sides of the chamber. Tiered wooden benches held them all, though barely.
Spectators stood at the back of the room. I nodded to Lysimachus, who looked grave. Archestratus stood in the front row, standing next to his son.
The judges sat at the front. This being a case of homicide, the judges were all chosen from the ranks of the Council of the Areopagus. I didn’t need Pericles to tell me that was bad for me. The entire Council filed in and took their seats. The full Council were essentially spectators at the proceedings. There were three seats placed at the fore for the chief judge and his two assistants. Now Xanthippus marched in and took the position of Chief Judge. That shook Pericles, who muttered, “He never told me. They must be doing this because they think I’ll be more restrained with my own father in the chair. Well, they have something to learn.”
The second seat next to Xanthippus was taken by Lysanias. I felt good about that, I thought Lysanias liked me. The third and final seat was taken by a man I didn’t recognize. Pericles snorted. “Demotion. He’s a toady to my father, we can expect him to agree with anything Xanthippus says.”
The dicasts were sworn in, repeating in unison the words, “I swear to vote according to the laws of Athens. I will never vote for a repudiation of debts, nor to restore before their time those who have been ostracized. I will not accept any bribe or offer for my vote, and if any man offers me such I will report him. I will not accept or take any bribe on behalf of another. I will hear both sides impartially and vote strictly according to the merits of the case. Thus do I invoke Zeus, Poseidon, and Demeter to destroy me and my house if I violate any of these obligations, and to send me many blessings if I obey them well.”
Xanthippus made the sacrifice. When he was done a slave brought him a basin of water and a towel to wash his bloodied hands. I noticed there was a spot that did not come out, but thought it impolitic to mention.
Xanthippus declared, “Let the prosecution begin.”
Conon led the dicasts through the same logic he had developed the day before: the story of a man given to senseless violence when you least expect it. His evidence was convincing and I saw the nearest dicasts draw back as Conon’s speech went on. He stopped at various times to read the evidence of Phomion, the evidence of the stallholders, and of all his other witnesses one after the other. After each reading the witness stood to confirm it had happened as Conon had said.
His manner was every bit as pedagogic as Pericles had said, and despite the sensationalism of the case I saw some dicasts beginning to drop off. Pericles leaned over to me and whispered, “He should have stopped an hour ago. Conon thinks he’s making sure of his case by hammering every single point against you in minute detail, but what he’s actually doing is boring the people whose minds he needs to keep active. Take heart. Most of the dicasts will never remember all his detail, and at least some of them will forget his main points too.”
But the dicasts were saved from boredom by an unexpected arrival.
I knew nothing of it until a minor commotion broke out at the back of the room. That was nothing unusual in an Athenian courtroom, but when the rumble became louder I turned to see the men standing at the entrance part, revealing a figure standing silhouetted against the bright light outside.
Euterpe swayed into the center of the chamber. She was wearing what for her was conservative dress: a standard matron’s robe of expensive but opaque material. Nevertheless, it was firmly fitted. She had tied a broad belt around her waist so that her hips and breasts were well outlined.
Even the judges were too stunned to protest. No one was sleeping now.
“I am a modest woman,” she began quietly. I stifled my laughter. “I know full well it is not the place of a modest woman such as myself to soil this august chamber with the presence of a mere woman. Imagine for yourselves then the pressure I must bear, the agony in my heart that forces me to plead with the wise men of the jury. My husband is dead, gentlemen, foully murdered. Yes, I know only too well we were never husband and wife in law, and you wise men know only too well the social demands that require a man to stay with convention. But husband and wife we were in every important sense of the words. And that is why today I must do what the Gods call upon me to do, to avenge the murder of my man.”
Euterpe suddenly tore away her dress, exposing her bare breasts to the jury. The jurors were overjoyed. They stamped their feet, cheered, and whistled. Xanthippus and the Council were aghast but shifted position for a closer look. I myself studied her attractions with great appreciation. So that’s what she’d been rubbing up and down my chest. I wondered if Diotima was similarly endowed.
Euterpe raised her arms in supplication and gave everyone a better view. “Look upon me, men of Athens!” As one, the jury obliged. It’s a good thing they were seated, or their chitons would all have been poking out at the front.
“Look upon me, men of Athens! I am but a poor woman deprived of her man by the hand of a perfidious murderer. I am destitute, distraught! Yes, I know what is said about me, those cruel rumors. Forget them! Think only of Ephialtes. Who can deny he loved me? He stayed with me for more than two decades in the face of malignant gossip. Ours was a true, abiding love, but we were torn asunder by foul murder. And I know that you loved Ephialtes, the man who led your democracy and was never anything but forthright and honest. Yes, you loved him too, though not, perhaps, in quite the same way as I.” Laughter filled the chamber.
“Who was the man who did this? What creature of evil dared to take the life of the one we loved above all others? The deed was done by that man!”
Euterpe kept her body facing the jury and pointed dramatically with her left arm. Her face turned to the man she accused, emphasizing her lovely neck; her eyes flashed with malice and beauty.
Every head in the room turned to Conon, the Eponymous Archon. He turned bright red and spluttered. If there’d been somewhere to hide I’m sure he would have dived for cover.
Someone in the jury shouted, “Death!” Other men took it up and the chant of “Death! Death! Death!” carried to Conon.
Pericles leaned toward me and asked, “Did you arrange this?”
“No! I thought you must have.”
“Not I.” He studied her and murmured, “She’s really quite good. It’s a pity we can’t recruit her for the democratic movement. Can you imagine that performance before the Ecclesia?”
“Order! Order I say!” Xanthippus roared across the chamber. “Guards, throw that woman out.”
“Wait!” Lysanias turned to Xanthippus and said in a voice loud enough to reach the far wall, “The accusation has been made. We must hear the reason for it.”
Xanthippus retorted, “We are here for the trial of Nicolaos, son of Sophroniscus, not to hear random slurs against our highest executive and, I might add, the prosecutor of this case. This is obviously a charade put up by the defense to distract our attention.”
“Yet if she speaks true, then the young man is certainly innocent.”
The jurors were chanting, “More! More! More!”
Xanthippus saw that he had no choice. “Very well, woman. What is your ridiculous reason for this baseless accusation? And be quick about it, we don’t have all day. And put on your dress.”
