Gary Corby: The Pericles Commission

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.”

Euterpe held the torn material across her breast with one slender arm in such a way that a nipple poked above. She arched her back. Now she appeared as a statue of Aphrodite. Sophroniscus, who’d been enjoying the view as much as any man, pulled out charcoal and parchment and began a fast sketch.

“Ephialtes had evidence Conon has been stealing from the state. He planned to prosecute him and the Polemarch as soon as their year in office completed. Conon murdered Ephialtes to save himself.”

“You have no evidence for this, I presume?”

“Indeed I do, Xanthippus.” Euterpe gestured to a slave who brought forward the parchments Diotima and I had discovered.

Xanthippus leaned forward to take them but Lysanias was too fast; he snatched them from the slave. “I will keep these safe.” He scanned the documents quickly. “Hmm.” Lysanias looked up at Conon. “It seems we will have something to discuss at a later date.”

Euterpe said, “Conon continued to persecute our family past the murder of my dear Ephialtes. He even ordered our beloved daughter to marry a vile, disgusting man whom Ephialtes would never have countenanced. Then he promised he would rescind his order if I slept with him. I love my daughter so much I made that sacrifice. At least, I assume I did. I don’t remember feeling much.”

Laughter rocked the room. Conon shook his head and shouted, “You lying bitch! You moaned and groaned like a-” He stopped suddenly when he realized what he was admitting. “That is, the whole thing is a fabrication. Honorable dicasts, this woman is known to be a hetaera.”

“I am the true widow of Ephialtes!” Euterpe shouted back.

“Whore!”

“Liar! And your prick is tiny.”

Xanthippus roared, “Throw her out! This is a court of Athens, not a bawdy house!”

Euterpe left the room amid huge cheers, clapping, and at least seven offers of marriage from lascivious jurors and one judge.

Conon’s speech was destroyed. He tried to bring it back on track but there was little he could do in the face of heckling from the dicasts and demands to bring back Euterpe.