“We will therefore take the vote city by city,” went on Eurybiades. “Do you, Phlegon of Seriphos, give your vote.”
Seriphos—wretched islet—sent only one ship, but thanks to the Greek mania for “equality” Phlegon’s vote had equal weight with that of Themistocles.
“Salamis is not defensible,” announced the Seriphian, shortly. “Retreat.”
“And you, Charmides of Melos?”
“Retreat.”
“And you, Phoibodas of Trœzene?”
“Retreat, by all the gods.”
“And you, Hippocrates of Ægina?”
“Stay and fight. If you go back to the Isthmus, Ægina must be abandoned to the Barbarians. I am with Themistocles.”
“Record his vote,” shouted Adeimantus, ill-naturedly, “he is but one against twenty. But I warn you, Eurybiades, do not call for Themistocles’s vote, or the rest of us will be angry. The man whose city is under the power of the Bar[pg 302]barian has no vote in this council, however much we condescend to listen to his chatterings.”