 Men of Athens, I don't know how you felt as you listened to my accusers, but they spoke so persuasively that they almost made me forget who I am. But not much of what they said is true. Along their many lies one especially amazed me. I mean, when they told you to be on your guard so that you were not deceived by the power of my eloquence, that they were not ashamed of saying this seemed to me most shameless of them, since they were sure to be refuted as soon as I opened my mouth and displayed my lack of eloquence, unless by eloquence they mean the power of speaking the truth. If that is what they mean, then I admit I'm an eloquent speaker. My way differs from theirs because, as I just said, they hardly spoke a word that's true. You'll hear the whole truth from me, but not delivered in their way, not in an oration nicely decorated with prepared words and phrases. On the contrary, I'll use the words and arguments that occurred to me at the moment. At my age, Athenians, it's not right for me to appear before you in the guise of a youthful orator. Nobody should expect me to do that, and I ask that you grant me one favour. If you hear me using the same words in my defence that you've heard me use in the agorah, at the money-changers' tables or anywhere else, I ask you not to be surprised at this and that you not interrupt me. I'm more than seventy years old, and this is the first time I've ever appeared in a law court. I'm a stranger to the ways of this place. Therefore please treat me as you would a foreigner, someone you would excuse for speaking with an accent and in my own dialect. I don't think that's an unfair request. Please ignore my way of speaking, whatever its value, and think only of the justice of my cause. Pay attention to that. Let the just decide fairly, and the speaker speak truly. First, I have to reply to some older charges, to those who first accused me, and then I'll respond to the more recent ones. Many people have accused me, some of them a long time ago, and their false charges have continued over the years. I fear them more than Anita's and his associates, though they too are dangerous in their own way. But those who began when you were children, filling your minds with lies are far more dangerous. They tell stories about a man named Socrates, a wise man who speculates about the heavens above and inquires about the earth below. He makes the worst cause appear to be the better one. I dread these accusers because when they circulate this rumor, those who hear them are likely to suppose that people who inquire don't believe in the gods. The many charges against me go back to the time when you were young and impressionable. The case was lost by default because nobody was around to defend me. Worst of all, I can't even tell you their names, with the possible exception of a comic poet. The majority of these people have approached you out of envy and spite. Some of them have been persuaded, and then persuaded others. It's extremely difficult to deal with all of them because I can't bring them here and examine them. All I can do to defend myself is fight with shadows and ask questions with nobody to answer them. So let's assume that my opponents are of two kinds. One recent and the other ancient. I hope you understand why it's appropriate for me to answer the ancient ones first. You have heard these accusations earlier and much more often than the others. Now, I'll defend myself, and in the little time I have, try to dispel the bad opinion of me you have held for so long. And if it's best for both you and me, I hope I'll succeed, and that my words will persuade you. I know that won't be easy, and I have no illusions about the nature of the task. Let things happen according to divine will. I make my defense in obedience to the law. I'll begin at the beginning and consider the accusation that led to the lies that encouraged Miletus to bring charges against me. What are the slanderers? Sample complete. Ready to continue?