120.  The Defendant’s Speech.  Demonstrations by the Jury.—­It is now Lamachus’s turn.  He also has employed a professional speech-writer ("logographos”) of fame, Iseus, to prepare his defense.  But almost at the outset he is in difficulties.  Very likely he has a bad case to begin with.  He makes it worse by a shrill, unpleasant voice and ungainly gestures.  Very soon many dicasts are tittering and whispering jibes to their companions.  As his harangue proceeds, the presiding archon (who has really very little control of the dicasts) is obliged “to remind the gentlemen of the jury that the have taken solemn oath to hear both sides of the question.”

Lamachus fights doggedly on.  Having put in all his real arguments, he takes refuge also in blackguarding his opponent.  Did Ariston get his wealth honestly? was not his father a rascally grain dealer who starved the people?  Yet there is still more impatience among the dicasts.  Lamachus now uses his last weapon.  Upon the pleader’s stand clamber his five young children clad in black mourning garments.  They all weep together, and when not wiping their eyes, hold out their hands like religious suppliants, toward the dicasts.[*]

[*]For such an appeal to an Athenian dicastery, see Aristophanes’s “Wasps.”  The pertinent passages are quoted in “Readings in Ancient History,” vol.  I, p. 238-40.

“Ah!  Gentlemen of the jury,” whines their father, “if you are moved by the voices of your lambs at home, pity these here.  Acquit me for their sakes.  Do not find against me and plunge these innocent darlings into want and misery, by impoverishing their father.”

Appeals like this have swayed more than one jury during the last year, but the fates are all against Lamachus.  From a back bench comes a dreaded shout that is instantly caught up by the front tiers also: 

“Kataba!  Kataba!—­Go down!  Go Down!”

Lamachus hesitates.  If he obeys, he loses all the rest of his defense.  If he continues now, he enrages many of the dicasts, who will be absolutely sure to find against him.  The presiding archon vainly rises, and tries to say something about “fair play.”  Useless.  The uproar continues.  Like a flock of scared doves Lamachus and all his five children flee incontinently from the tribune, amid ironical cheers and laughter.

121.  The First Verdict.—­There is silence at length.  “The dicasts will proceed to vote,” announces the court crier.  The huge urns (one of bronze, one of wood) with narrow mouths are passed among the benches.  Each juror has two round bronze disks, one solid, one with a hole bored in the middle.  The solid acquit, the pierced ones convict.  A juror drops the ballot he wishes to count into the bronze urn; the other goes into the wooden urn.  The bronze urn is carried to the archon, and there is an uneasy hush while the 401 ballots are counted by the court officers.  As expected, more than 300 dicasts vote that Ariston is entitled to damages against Lamachus as an embezzler.