Ille manum projecto tegmine demens
Ad vulnus tulit.]

strike him somewhere else, there go his hands again; ward or look in the
face he can not nor will. So you, if you hear of Philip in the
Chersonese, vote to send relief there if at Thermopylae, the same; if
any where else, you run after his heels up and down, and are commanded
by him; no plan have you devised for the war, no circumstance do you see
beforehand, only [Footnote: This loose mode of expression, which is
found in the original, I designedly retain.] when you learn that
something is done, or about to be done. Formerly perhaps this was
allowable: now it is come to a crisis, to be tolerable no longer. And it
seems, men of Athens, as if some god, ashamed for us at our proceedings,
has put this activity into Philip. For had he been willing to remain
quiet in possession of his conquests and prizes, and attempted nothing
further, some of you, I think, would be satisfied with a state of
things, which brands our nation with the shame of cowardice and the
foulest disgrace. But by continually encroaching and grasping after
more, he may possibly rouse you, if you have not altogether despaired. I
marvel, indeed, that none of you, Athenians, notices with concern and
anger, that the beginning of this war was to chastise Philip, the end is
to protect ourselves against his attacks. One thing is clear: he will
not stop, unless some one oppose him. And shall we wait for this? And if
you dispatch empty galleys and hopes from this or that person, think ye
all is well? Shall we not embark? Shall we not sail with at least a part
of our national forces, now though not before? Shall we not make a
descent upon his coast? Where, then, shall we land? some one asks. The
war itself, men of Athens, will discover the rotten parts of his empire,
if we make a trial; but if we sit at home, hearing the orators accuse
and malign one another, no good can ever be achieved. Methinks, where a