The CDPD Public Domain Collection for CDTV 3/CDPDIII.bin/books/sophocles/philocte

Text File | 1992-07-31 | 73KB | 2,044 lines

                                     400 BC
                                  PHILOCTETES
                                  by Sophocles
                         translated by Thomas Francklin
                    CHARACTERS IN THE PLAY

  ULYSSES, King of Ithaca
  NEOPTOLEMUS, son of Achilles
  PHILOCTETES, son of Poeas and Companion of HERCULES
  A SPY
  HERCULES
  CHORUS, composed of the companions of ULYSSES and NEOPTOLEMUS
PHILOCTETES


                             PHILOCTETES


          (SCENE:- A lonely region on the shore of Lemnos,
 before a steep cliff in which is the entrance to PHILOCTETES' cave.
           ULYSSES, NEOPTOLEMUS and an attendant enter.)

  ULYSSES
    At length, my noble friend, thou bravest son
    Of a brave father- father of us all,
    The great Achilles- we have reached the shore
    Of sea-girt Lemnos, desert and forlorn,
    Where never tread of human step is seen,
    Or voice of mortal heard, save his alone,
    Poor Philoctetes, Poeas' wretched son,
    Whom here I left; for such were my commands
    From Grecia's chiefs, when by his fatal wound
    Oppressed, his groans and execrations dreadful
    Alarmed our hosts, our sacred rites profaned,
    And interrupted holy sacrifice.
    But why should I repeat the tale? The time
    Admits not of delay. We must not linger,
    Lest he discover our arrival here,
    And all our purposed fraud to draw him hence
    Be ineffectual. Lend me then thy aid.
    Surveying round thee, canst thou see a rock
    With double entrance- to the sun's warm rays
    In winter open, and in summer's heat
    Giving free passage to the welcome breeze?
    A little to the left there is a fountain
    Of living water, where, if yet he breathes,
    He slakes his thirst. If aught thou seest of this
    Inform me; so shall each to each impart
    Counsel most fit, and serve our common cause.
  NEOPTOLEMUS  (leaving ULYSSES a little behind him)
    If I mistake not, I behold a cave,
    E'en such as thou describst.
  ULYSSES
    Dost thou? which way?
  NEOPTOLEMUS
    Yonder it is; but no path leading thither,
    Or trace of human footstep.
  ULYSSES
    In his cell
    A chance but he hath lain down to rest:
    Look if he hath not.
  NEOPTOLEMUS  (advancing to the cave)
    Not a creature there.
  ULYSSES
    Nor food, nor mark of household preparation?
  NEOPTOLEMUS
    A rustic bed of scattered leaves.
  ULYSSES
    What more?
  NEOPTOLEMUS
    A wooden bowl, the work of some rude hand,
    With a few sticks for fuel.
  ULYSSES
    This is all
    His little treasure here.
  NEOPTOLEMUS
    Unhappy man!
    Some linen for his wounds.
  ULYSSES
    This must be then
    His place of habitation; far from hence
    He cannot roam; distempered as he is,
    It were impossible. He is but gone
    A little way for needful food, or herb
    Of power to 'suage and mitigate his pain,
    Wherefore despatch this servant to some place
    Of observation, whence he may espy
    His every motion, lest he rush upon us.
    There's not a Grecian whom his soul so much
    Could wish to crush beneath him as Ulysses.
                    (He makes a signal to the Attendant. who retires.)
  NEOPTOLEMUS
    He's gone to guard each avenue; and now,
    If thou hast aught of moment to impart
    Touching our purpose, say it; I attend.
  ULYSSES
    Son of Achilles, mark me well! Remember,
    What we are doing not on strength alone,
    Or courage, but oil conduct will depend;
    Therefore if aught uncommon be proposed,
    Strange to thy ears and adverse to thy nature,
    Reflect that 'tis thy duty to comply,
    And act conjunctive with me.
  NEOPTOLEMUS
    Well, what is it?
  ULYSSES
    We must deceive this Philoctetes; that
    Will be thy task. When he shall ask thee who
    And what thou art, Achilles'son reply-
    Thus far within the verge of truth, no more.
    Add that resentment fired thee to forsake
    The Grecian fleet, and seek thy native soil,
    Unkindly used by those who long with vows
    Had sought thy aid to humble haughty Troy,
    And when thou cam'st, ungrateful as they were.
    The arms of great Achilles, thy just right,
    Gave to Ulysses. Here thy bitter taunts
    And sharp invectives liberally bestow
    On me. Say what thou wilt, I shall forgive,
    And Greece will not forgive thee if thou dost not;
    For against Troy thy efforts are all vain
    Without his arrows. Safely thou mayst hold
    Friendship and converse with him, but I cannot.
    Thou wert not with us when the war began,
    Nor bound by solemn oath to join our host,
    As I was; me he knows, and if he find
    That I am with thee, we are both undone.
    They must be ours then, these all-conquering arms;
    Remember that. I know thy noble nature
    Abhors the thought of treachery or fraud.
    But what a glorious prize is victory!
    Therefore be bold; we will be just hereafter.
    Give to deceit and me a little portion
    Of one short day, and for thy future life
    Be called the holiest, worthiest, best of men.
  NEOPTOLEMUS
    What but to hear alarms my conscious soul,
    Son of Laertes, I shall never practise.
    I was not born to flatter or betray;
    Nor I, nor he- the voice of fame reports-
    Who gave me birth. What open arms can do
    Behold me prompt to act, but ne'er to fraud
    Will I descend. Sure we can more than match
    In strength a foe thus lame and impotent.
    I came to be a helpmate to thee, not
    A base betrayer; and, O king! believe me,
    Rather, much rather would I fall by virtue
    Than rise by guilt to certain victory.
  ULYSSES
    O noble youth! and worthy of thy sire!
    When I like thee was young, like thee of strength
    And courage boastful, little did I deem
    Of human policy; but long experience
    Hath taught me, son, 'tis not the powerful arm,
    But soft enchanting tongue that governs all.
  NEOPTOLEMUS
    And thou wouldst have me tell an odious falsehood?
  ULYSSES
    He must be gained by fraud.
  NEOPTOLEMUS
    By fraud? And why
    Not by persuasion?
  ULYSSES
    He'll not listen to it;
    And force were vainer still.
  NEOPTOLEMUS
    What mighty power
    Hath he to boast?
  ULYSSES
    His arrows winged with death
    Inevitable.
  NEOPTOLEMUS
    Then it were not safe
    E'en to approach him.
  ULYSSES
    No; unless by fraud
    He be secured.
  NEOPTOLEMUS
    And thinkst thou 'tis not base
    To tell a lie then?
  ULYSSES
    Not if on that lie
    Depends our safety.
  NEOPTOLEMUS
    Who shall dare to tell it
    Without a blush?
  ULYSSES
    We need not blush at aught
    That may promote our interest and success.
  NEOPTOLEMUS
    But where's the interest that should bias me?
    Come he or not to Troy, imports it aught
    To Neoptolemus?
  ULYSSES
    Troy cannot fall
    Without his arrows.
  NEOPTOLEMUS
    Saidst thou not that I
    Was destined to destroy her?
  ULYSSES
    Without them
    Naught canst thou do, and they without thee nothing.
  NEOPTOLEMUS
    Then I must have them.
  ULYSSES
    When thou hast, remember
    A double prize awaits thee.
  NEOPTOLEMUS
    What, Ulysses?
  ULYSSES
    The glorious names of valiant and of wise.
  NEOPTOLEMUS
    Away! I'll do it. Thoughts of guilt or shame
    No more appal me.
  ULYSSES
    Wilt thou do it then?
    Wilt thou remember what I told thee of?
  NEOPTOLEMUS
    Depend on 't; I have promised- that's sufficient.
  ULYSSES
    Here then remain thou; I must not be seen.
    If thou stay long, I'll send a faithful spy,
    Who in a sailor's habit well disguised
    May pass unknown; of him, from time to time,
    What best may suit our purpose thou shalt know.
    I'll to the ship. Farewell! and may the god
    Who brought us here, the fraudful Mercury,
    And great Minerva, guardian of our country,
    And ever kind to me, protect us still!

     (ULYSSES goes out as the CHORUS enters. The following lines
    are chanted responsively between NEOPTOLEMUS and the CHORUS.)

  CHORUS

                                                             strophe 1

    Master, instruct us, strangers as we are,
    What we may utter, what we must conceal.
    Doubtless the man we seek will entertain
    Suspicion of us; how are we to act?
    To those alone belongs the art to rule
    Who bear the sceptre from the hand of Jove;
    To thee of right devolves the power supreme,
    From thy great ancestors delivered down;
    Speak then, our royal lord, and we obey.
  NEOPTOLEMUS

                                                             systema 1

    If you would penetrate yon deep recess
    To seek the cave where Philoctetes lies,
    Go forward; but remember to return
    When the poor wanderer comes this way, prepared
    To aid our purpose here if need require.
  CHORUS

                                                         antistrophe 1

    O king! we ever meant to fix our eyes
    On thee, and wait attentive to thy will;
    But, tell us, in what part is he concealed?
    'Tis fit we know the place, lest unobserved
    He rush upon us. Which way doth it lie?
    Seest thou his footsteps leading from the cave,
    Or hither bent?
  NEOPTOLEMUS  (advancing towards the cave)

                                                             systema 2

    Behold the double door
    Of his poor dwelling, and the flinty bed.
  CHORUS
    And whither is its wretched master gone?
  NEOPTOLEMUS
    Doubtless in search of food, and not far off,
    For such his manner is; accustomed here,
    So fame reports, to pierce with winged arrows
    His savage prey for daily sustenance,
    His wound still painful, and no hope of cure.
  CHORUS

                                                             strophe 2

    Alas! I pity him. Without a friend,
    Without a fellow-sufferer, left alone,
    Deprived of all the mutual joys that flow
    From sweet society- distempered too!
    How can he bear it? O unhappy race
    Of mortal man! doomed to an endless round
    Of sorrows, and immeasurable woe!

                                                         antistrophe 2

    Second to none in fair nobility
    Was Philoctetes, of illustrious race;
    Yet here he lies, from every human aid
    Far off removed, in dreadful solitude,
    And mingles with the wild and savage herd;
    With them in famine and in misery
    Consumes his days, and weeps their common fate,
    Unheeded, save when babbling echo mourns
    In bitterest notes responsive to his woe.
  NEOPTOLEMUS

                                                             systema 3

    And yet I wonder not; for if aright
    I judge, from angry heaven the sentence came,
    And Chrysa was the cruel source of all;
    Nor doth this sad disease inflict him still
    Incurable, without assenting gods?
    For so they have decreed, lest Troy should fall
    Beneath his arrows ere the' appointed time
    Of its destruction come.
  CHORUS

                                                             strophe 3

    No more, my son!
  NEOPTOLEMUS
    What sayst thou?
  CHORUS
    Sure I heard a dismal groan
    Of some afflicted wretch.
  NEOPTOLEMUS
    Which way?
  CHORUS
    E'en now
    I hear it, and the sound as of some step
    Slow-moving this way. He is not far from us.
    His plaints are louder now.

                                                         antistrophe 3

    Prepare, my son!
  NEOPTOLEMUS
    For what?
  CHORUS
    New troubles; for behold he comes!
    Not like the shepherd with his rural pipe
    And cheerful song, but groaning heavily.
    Either his wounded foot against some thorn
    Hath struck, and pains him sorely, or perchance
    He hath espied from far some ship attempting
    To enter this inhospitable port,
    And hence his cries to save it from destruction.

     (PHILOCTETES enters, clad in rags. He moves with difficulty
       and is obviously suffering pain from his injured foot.)

  PHILOCTETES
    Say, welcome strangers, what disastrous fate
    Led you to this inhospitable shore,
    Nor haven safe, nor habitation fit
    Affording ever? Of what clime, what race?
    Who are ye? Speak! If I may trust that garb,
    Familiar once to me, ye are of Greece,
    My much-loved country. Let me hear the sound
    Of your long wished-for voices. Do not look
    With horror on me, but in kind compassion
    Pity a wretch deserted and forlorn
    In this sad place. Oh! if ye come as friends,
    Speak then, and answer- hold some converse with me,
    For this at least from man to man is due.
  NEOPTOLEMUS
    Know, stranger, first what most thou seemst to wish;
    We are of Greece.
  PHILOCTETES
    Oh! happiness to hear!
    After so many years of dreadful silence,
    How welcome was that sound! Oh! tell me, son,
    What chance, what purpose, who conducted thee?
    What brought thee thither, what propitious gale?
    Who art thou? Tell me all- inform me quickly.
  NEOPTOLEMUS
    Native of Scyros, hither I return;
    My name is Neoptolemus, the son
    Of brave Achilles. I have told thee all.
  PHILOCTETES
    Dear is thy country, and thy father dear
    To me, thou darling of old Lycomede;
    But tell me in what fleet, and whence thou cam'st.
  NEOPTOLEMUS
    From Troy.
  PHILOCTETES
    From Troy? I think thou wert not with us
    When first our fleet sailed forth.
  NEOPTOLEMUS
    Wert thou then there?
    Or knowst thou aught of that great enterprise?
  PHILOCTETES
    Know you not then the man whom you behold?
  NEOPTOLEMUS
    How should I know whom I had never seen?
  PHILOCTETES
    Have you ne'er heard of me, nor of my name?
    Hath my sad story never reached your ear?
  NEOPTOLEMUS
    Never.
  PHILOCTETES
    Alas! how hateful to the gods,
    How very poor a wretch must I be then,
    That Greece should never hear of woes like mine!
    But they who sent me hither, they concealed them,
    And smile triumphant, whilst my cruel wounds
    Grow deeper still. O, sprung from great Achilles!
    Behold before thee Poeas' wretched son,
    With whom, a chance but thou hast heard, remain
    The dreadful arrows of renowned Alcides,
    E'en the unhappy Philoctetes- him
    Whom the Atreidae and the vile Ulysses
    Inhuman left, distempered as I was
    By the envenomed serpent's deep-felt wound.
    Soon as they saw that, with long toil oppressed,
    Sleep had o'ertaken me on the hollow rock,
    There did they leave me when from Chrysa's shore
    They bent their fatal course; a little food
    And these few rags were all they would bestow.
    Such one day be their fate! Alas! my son,
    How dreadful, thinkst thou, was that waking to me,
    When from my sleep I rose and saw them not!
    How did I weep! and mourn my wretched state!
    When not a ship remained of all the fleet
    That brought me here- no kind companion left
    To minister or needful food or balm
    To my sad wounds. On every side I looked,
    And nothing saw but woe; of that indeed
    Measure too full. For day succeeded day,
    And still no comfort came; myself alone
    Could to myself the means of life afford,
    In this poor grotto. On my bow I lived:
    The winged dove, which my sharp arrow slew,
    With pain I brought into my little hut,
    And feasted there; then from the broken ice
    I slaked my thirst, or crept into the wood
    For useful fuel; from the stricken flint
    I drew the latent spark, that warms me still
    And still revives. This with my humble roof
    Preserve me, son. But, oh! my wounds remain.
    Thou seest an island desolate and waste;
    No friendly port nor hopes of gain to tempt,
    Nor host to welcome in the traveller;
    Few seek the wild inhospitable shore.
    By adverse winds, sometimes th' unwilling guests,
    As well thou mayst suppose, were hither driven;
    But when they came, they only pitied me,
    Gave me a little food, or better garb
    To shield me from the cold; in vain I prayed
    That they would bear me to my native soil,
    For none would listen. Here for ten long years
    Have I remained, whilst misery and famine
    Keep fresh my wounds, and double my misfortune.
    This have th' Atreidae and Ulysses done,
    And may the gods with equal woes repay them!
  LEADER OF THE CHORUS
    O, son of Poeas! well might those, who came
    And saw thee thus, in kind compassion weep;
    I too must pity thee- I can no more.
  NEOPTOLEMUS
    I can bear witness to thee, for I know
    By sad experience what th' Atreidae are,
    And what Ulysses.
  PHILOCTETES
    Hast thou suffered then?
    And dost thou hate them too?
  NEOPTOLEMUS
    Oh! that these hands
    Could vindicate my wrongs! Mycenae then
    And Sparta should confess that Scyros boasts
    Of sons as brave and valiant as their own.
  PHILOCTETES
    O noble youth! But wherefore cam'st thou hither?
    Whence this resentment?
  NEOPTOLEMUS
    I will tell thee all,
    If I can bear to tell it. Know then, soon
    As great Achilles died-
  PHILOCTETES
    Oh, stay, my son!
    Is then Achilles dead?
  NEOPTOLEMUS
    He is, and not
    By mortal hand, but by Apollo's shaft
    Fell glorious.
  PHILOCTETES
    Oh! most worthy of each other,
    The slayer and the slain! Permit me, son,
    To mourn his fate, ere I attend to thine.
  NEOPTOLEMUS
    Alas! thou needst not weep for others' woes,
    Thou hast enough already of thy own.
  PHILOCTETES
    'Tis very true; and therefore to thy tale.
  NEOPTOLEMUS
    Thus then it was. Soon as Achilles died,
    Phoenix, the guardian of his tender years,
    Instant sailed forth, and sought me out at Scyros;
    With him the wary chief Ulysses came.
    They told me then  (or true or false I know not),
    My father dead, by me, and me alone
    Proud Troy must fall. I yielded to their prayers;
    I hoped to see at least the dear remains
    Of him whom living I had long in vain
    Wished to behold. Safe at Sigeum's port
    Soon we arrived. In crowds the numerous host
    Thronged to embrace me, called the gods to witness
    In me once more they saw their loved Achilles
    To life restored; but he, alas! was gone.
    I shed the duteous tear, then sought my friends
    Th' Atreidae friends I thought 'em!-claimed the arms
    Of my dead father, and what else remained
    His late possession: when- O cruel words!
    And wretched I to hear them- thus they answered:
    "Son of Achilles, thou in vain demandst
    Those arms already to Ulysses given;
    The rest be thine." I wept. "And is it thus,"
    Indignant I replied, "ye dare to give
    My right away?" "Know, boy," Ulysses cried,
    "That right was mine. and therefore they bestowed
    The boon on me: me who preserved the arms,
    And him who bore them too." With anger fired
    At this proud speech, I threatened all that rage
    Could dictate to me if he not returned them.
    Stung with my words, yet calm, he answered me:
    "Thou wert not with us; thou wert in a place
    Where thou shouldst not have been; and since thou meanst
    To brave us thus, know, thou shalt never bear
    Those arms with thee to Scyros; 'tis resolved."
    Thus injured, thus deprived of all I held
    Most precious, by the worst of men, I left
    The hateful place, and seek my native soil.
    Nor do I blame so much the proud Ulysses
    As his base masters- army, city, all
    Depend on those who rule. When men grow vile
    The guilt is theirs who taught them to be wicked.
    I've told thee all, and him who hates the Atreidae
    I hold a friend to me and to the gods.
  CHORUS  (singing)
    O Earth! thou mother of great Jove,
    Embracing all with universal love,
    Author benign of every good,
    Through whom Pactolus rolls his golden flood!
    To thee, whom in thy rapid car
    Fierce lions draw, I rose and made my prayer-
    To thee I made my sorrows known,
    When from Achilles' injured son
    Th' Atreidae gave the prize, that fatal day
    When proud Ulysses bore his arms away.
  PHILOCTETES
    I wonder not, my friend, to see you here,
    And I believe the tale; for well I know
    The man who wronged you, know the base Ulysses
    Falsehood and fraud dwell on his lips, and nought
    That's just or good can be expected from him.
    But strange it is to me that, Ajax present,
    He dare attempt it.
  NEOPTOLEMUS
    Ajax is no more;
    Had he been living, I had ne'er been spoiled
    Thus of my right.
  PHILOCTETES
    Is he then dead?
  NEOPTOLEMUS
    He is.
  PHILOCTETES
    Alas! the son of Tydeus, and that slave,
    Sold by his father Sisyphus, they live,
    Unworthy as they are.
  NEOPTOLEMUS
    Alas! they do,
    And flourish still.
  PHILOCTETES
    My old and worthy friend
    The Pylian sage, how is he? He could see
    Their arts, and would have given them better counsels.
  NEOPTOLEMUS
    Weighed down with grief he lives, but most unhappy,
    Weeps his lost son, his dear Antilochus.
  PHILOCTETES
    O double woe! whom I could most have wished
    To live and to be happy, those to perish!
    Ulysses to survive! It should not be.
  NEOPTOLEMUS
    Oh! 'tis a subtle foe; but deepest plans
    May sometimes fail.
  PHILOCTETES
    Where was Patroclus then,
    Thy father's dearest friend?
  NEOPTOLEMUS
    He too was dead.
    In war, alas- so fate ordains it ever-
    The coward 'scapes, the brave and virtuous fall.
  PHILOCTETES
    It is too true; and now thou talkst of cowards,
    Where is that worthless wretch, of readiest tongue,
    Subtle and voluble?
  NEOPTOLEMUS
    Ulysses?
  PHILOCTETES
    No;
    Thersites, ever talking, never heard.
  NEOPTOLEMUS
    I have not seen him, but I hear he lives.
  PHILOCTETES
    I did not doubt it: evil never dies;
    The gods take care of that. If aught there be
    Fraudful and vile, 'tis safe; the good and just
    Perish unpitied by them. Wherefore is it?
    When gods do ill, why should we worship them?
  NEOPTOLEMUS
    Since thus it is, since virtue is oppressed,
    And vice triumphant, who deserve to live
    Are doomed to perish, and the guilty reign.
    Henceforth, O son of Poeas! far from Troy
    And the Atreidae will I live remote.
    I would not see the man I cannot love.
    My barren Scyros shall afford me refuge,
    And home- felt joys delight my future days.
    So, fare thee well, and may th' indulgent gods
    Heal thy sad wound, and grant thee every wish
    Thy soul can form! Once more, farewell! I go,
    The first propitious gale.
  PHILOCTETES
    What! now, my son?
    So soon?
  NEOPTOLEMUS
    Immediately; the time demands
    We should be near, and ready to depart.
  PHILOCTETES
    Now, by the memory of thy honoured sire,
    By thy loved mother, by whate'er remains
    On earth most dear to thee, oh! hear me now,
    Thy suppliant! Do not, do not thus forsake me,
    Alone, oppressed, deserted, as thou seest,
    In this sad place. I shall, I know it must, be
    A burthen to thee. But, oh! bear it kindly;
    For ever doth the noble mind abhor
    Th' ungenerous deed, and loves humanity;
    Disgrace attends thee if thou dost forsake me,
    If not, immortal fame rewards thy goodness.
    Thou mayst convey me safe to Oeta's shores
    In one short day; I'll trouble you no longer.
    Hide me in any part where I may least
    Molest you. Hear me! By the guardian god
    Of the poor suppliant, all- protecting Jove,
    I beg. Behold me at thy feet, infirm,
    And wretched as I am, I clasp thy knees.
    Leave me not here then, where there is no mark
    Of human footstep- take me to thy home!
    Or to Euboea's port, to Oeta, thence
    Short is the way to Trachin, or the banks
    Of Spercheius' gentle stream, to meet my father,
    If yet he lives; for, oh! I begged him oft
    By those who hither came, to fetch me hence-
    Or is he dead, or they neglectful bent
    Their hasty course to their own native soil.
    Be thou my better guide! Pity and save
    The poor and wretched. Think, my son, how frail
    And full of danger is the state of man-
    Now prosperous, now adverse. Who feels no ills
    Should therefore fear them; and when fortune smiles
    Be doubly cautious, lest destruction come
    Remorseless on him, and he fall unpitied.
  CHORUS  (singing)
    Oh, pity him, my lord, for bitterest woes
    And trials most severe he hath recounted;
    Far be such sad distress from those I love!
    Oh! if thou hat'st the base Atreidae, now
    Revenge thee on them, serve their deadliest foe;
    Bear the poor suppliant to his native soil;
    So shalt thou bless thy friend, and 'scape the wrath
    Of the just gods, who still protect the wretched.
  NEOPTOLEMUS
    Your proffered kindness, friends, may cost you dear;
    When you shall feel his dreadful malady
    Oppress you sore, you will repent it.
  LEADER OF THE CHORUS
    Never
    Shall that reproach be ours.
  NEOPTOLEMUS
    In generous pity
    Of the afflicted thus to be o'ercome
    Were most disgraceful to me; he shall go.
    May the kind gods speed our departure hence,
    And guide our vessels to the wished-for shore!
  PHILOCTETES
    O happy hour! O kindest, best of men!
    And you my dearest friends! how shall I thank you?
    What shall I do to show my grateful heart?
    Let us be gone! But, oh! permit me first
    To take a last farewell of my poor hut,
    Where I so long have lived. Perhaps you'll say
    I must have had a noble mind to bear it.
    The very sight to any eyes but mine
    Were horrible, but sad necessity
    At length prevailed, and made it pleasing to me.
  LEADER
    One from our ship, my lord, and with him comes
    A stranger. Stop a moment till we hear
    Their business with us.

                (The Spy enters, dressed as a merchant.
             He is accompanied by one of NEOPTOLEMUS'men.)

  SPY
    Son of great Achilles,
    Know, chance alone hath brought me hither, driven
    By adverse winds to where thy vessels lay,
    As home I sailed from Troy. There did I meet
    This my companion, who informed me where
    Thou mightst be found. Hence to pursue my course
    And not to tell thee what concerns thee near
    Had been ungenerous, thou perhaps meantime
    Of Greece and of her counsels naught suspecting,
    Counsels against thee not by threats alone
    Or words enforced, but now in execution.
  NEOPTOLEMUS
    Now by my virtue, stranger, for thy news
    I am much bound to thee, and will repay
    Thy service. Tell me what the Greeks have done.
  SPY
    A fleet already sails to fetch thee back,
    Conducted by old Phoenix, and the sons
    Of valiant Theseus.
  NEOPTOLEMUS
    Come they then to force me?
    Or am I to be won by their persuasion?
  SPY
    I know not that; you have what I could learn.
  NEOPTOLEMUS
    And did the' Atreidae send them?
  SPY
    Sent they are,
    And will be with you soon.
  NEOPTOLEMUS
    But wherefore then
    Came not Ulysses? Did his courage fail?
  SPY
    He, ere I left the camp, with Diomede
    On some important embassy sailed forth
    In search-
  NEOPTOLEMUS
    Of whom?
  SPY
    There was a man- but stay,
    Who is thy friend here, tell me, but speak softly.
  NEOPTOLEMUS  (whispering to him)
    The famous Philoctetes.
  SPY
    Ha! begone then!
    Ask me no more- away, immediately!
  PHILOCTETES
    What do these dark mysterious whispers mean?
    Concern they me, my son?
  NEOPTOLEMUS
    I know not what
    He means to say, but I would have him speak
    Boldly before us all, whate'er it be.
  SPY
    Do not betray me to the Grecian host,
    Nor make me speak what I would fain conceal.
    I am but poor- they have befriended me.
  NEOPTOLEMUS
    In me thou seest an enemy confest
    To the Atreidae. This is my best friend
    Because he hates them too; if thou art mine,
    Hide nothing then.
  SPY
    Consider first.
  NEOPTOLEMUS
    I have.
  SPY
    The blame will be on you.
  NEOPTOLEMUS
    Why, let it be:
    But speak, I charge thee.
  SPY
    Since I must then, know,
    In solemn league combined, the bold Ulysses
    And gallant Diomede have sworn by force
    Or by persuasion to bring back thy friend:
    The Grecians heard Laertes' son declare
    His purpose; far more resolute he seemed
    Than Diomede, and surer of success.
  NEOPTOLEMUS
    But why the' Atreidae, after so long time,
    Again should wish to see this wretched exile,
    Whence this desire? Came it from th' angry gods
    To punish thus their inhumanity?
  SPY
    I can inform you; for perhaps from Greece
    Of late you have not heard. There was a prophet,
    Son of old Priam, Helenus by name,
    Hlim, in his midnight walks, the wily chief
    Ulysses, curse of every tongue, espied;
    Took him. and led him captive. to the Creeks
    A welcome spoil. Much he foretold to all,
    And added last that Troy should never fall
    Till Philoctetes from this isle returned.
    Ulysses heard, and instant promise gave
    To fetch him hence; he hoped by gentle means
    To gain him; those successless, force at last
    Could but compel him. He would go, he cried,
    And if he failed his head should pay th' forfeit.
    I've told thee all, and warn thee to be gone,
    Thou and thy friend, if thou wouldst wish to save him.
  PHILOCTETES
    And does the traitor think he can persuade me?
    As well might he persuade me to return
    From death to life, as his base father did.
  SPY
    Of that know not: I must to my ship.
    Farewell, and may the gods protect you both!
                                                    (The Spy departs.)
  PHILOCTETES
    Lead me- expose me to the Grecian host!
    And could the insolent Ulysses hope
    With his soft flatteries e'er to conquer me?
    No! Sooner would I listen to the voice
    Of that fell serpent, whose envenomed tongue
    Hath lamed me thus. But what is there he dare not
    Or say or do? I know he will be here
    E'en now, depend on't. Therefore, let's away!
    Quick let the sea divide us from Ulysses.
    Let us be gone; for well-timed expedition,
    The task performed, brings safety and repose.
  NEOPTOLEMUS
    Soon as the wind permits us we embark,
    But now 'tis adverse.
  PHILOCTETES
    Every wind is fair
    When we are flying from misfortune.
  NEOPTOLEMUS
    True;
    And 'tis against them too.
  PHILOCTETES
    Alas! no storms
    Can drive back fraud and rapine from their prey.
  NEOPTOLEMUS
    I'm ready. Take what may be necessary,
    And follow me.
  PHILOCTETES
    I want not much.
  NEOPTOLEMUS
    Perhaps
    My ship will furnish you.
  PHILOCTETES
    There is a plant
    Which to my wound gives some relief; I must
    Have that.
  NEOPTOLEMUS
    Is there aught else?
  PHILOCTETES
    Alas! my bow
    I had forgot. I must not lose that treasure.

                  (PHILOCTETES steps into the cave,
                 and brings out his bow and arrows.)

  NEOPTOLEMUS
    Are these the famous arrows then?
  PHILOCTETES
    They are.
  NEOPTOLEMUS
    And may I be permitted to behold,
    To touch, to pay my adoration to them?
  PHILOCTETES
    In these, my son, in everything that's mine
    Thou hast a right,
  NEOPTOLEMUS
    But if it be a crime,
    I would not; otherwise-
  PHILOCTETES
    Oh! thou art full
    Of piety; in thee it is no crime;
    In thee, my friend, by whom alone I look
    Once more with pleasure on the radiant sun-
    By whom I live- who giv'st me to return
    To my dear father, to my friends, my country:
    Sunk as I was beneath my foes, once more
    I rise to triumph o'er them by thy aid:
    Behold them, touch them, but return them to me,
    And boast that virtue which on thee alone
    Bestowed such honour. Virtue made them mine.
    I can deny thee nothing: he, whose heart
    Is grateful can alone deserve the name
    Of friend, to every treasure far superior.
  NEOPTOLEMUS
    Go in.
  PHILOCTETES
    Come with me; for my painful wound
    Requires thy friendly hand to help me onward.
                                              (They go into the cave.)
  CHORUS  (singing)

                                                             strophe 1

    Since proud Ixion, doomed to feel
    The tortures of th' eternal wheel,
    Bound by the hand of angry Jove,
    Received the due rewards of impious love;
    Ne'er was distress so deep or woe so great
    As on the wretched Philoctetes wait;
    Who ever with the just and good,
    Guiltless of fraud and rapine, stood,
    And the fair paths of virtue still pursued;
    Alone on this inhospitable shore,
    Where waves for ever beat and tempests roar,
    How could he e'er or hope or comfort know,
    Or painful life support beneath such weight of woe?

                                                         antistrophe 1

    Exposed to the inclement skies,
    Deserted and forlorn he lies,
    No friend or fellow-mourner there
    To soothe his sorrows and divide his care,
    Or seek the healing plant of power to 'suage
    His aching wound and mitigate its rage;
    But if perchance, awhile released
    From torturing pain, he sinks to rest,
    Awakened soon, and by sharp hunger prest,
    Compelled to wander forth in search of food,
    He crawls in anguish to the neighbouring wood;
    Even as the tottering infant in despair
    Who mourns an absent mother's kind supporting care.

                                                             strophe 2

    The teeming earth, who mortals still supplies
    With every good, to him her seed denies;
    A stranger to the joy that flows
    From the kind aid which man on man bestows;
    Nor food, alas! to him was given,
    Save when his arrows pierced the birds of heaven;
    Nor e'er did Bacchus' heart-expanding bow!
    For ten long years relieve his cheerless soul;
    But glad was he his eager thirst to slake
    In the unwholesome pool, or ever-stagnant lake.

                                                         antistrophe 2

    But now, behold the joyful captive freed;
    A fairer fate, and brighter days succeed:
    For he at last hath found a friend
    Of noblest race, to save and to defend,
    To guide him with protecting hand,
    And safe restore him to his native land;
    On Spercheius' flowery banks to join the throng
    Of Malian nymphs, and lead the choral song
    On Oeta's top, which saw Alcides rise,
    And from the flaming pile ascend his native skies.

          (NEOPTOLEMUS and PHILOCTETES enter from the cave.
         PHILOCTETES is suddenly seized with spasms of pain.
           He still holds in his hand the bow and arrows.)

  NEOPTOLEMUS
    Come, Philoctetes; why thus silent? Wherefore
    This sudden terror on thee?
  PHILOCTETES
    Oh!
  NEOPTOLEMUS
    Whence is it?
  PHILOCTETES
    Nothing, my son; go on!
  NEOPTOLEMUS
    Is it thy wound
    That pains thee thus?
  PHILOCTETES
    No; I am better now.
    O gods!
  NEOPTOLEMUS
    Why dost thou call thus on the gods?
  PHILOCTETES
    To smile propitious, and preserve us- Oh!
  NEOPTOLEMUS
    Thou art in misery. Tell me- wilt thou not?
    What is it?
  PHILOCTETES
    O my son! I can no longer
    Conceal it from thee. Oh! I die, I perish;
    By the great gods let me implore thee, now
    This moment, if thou hast a sword. oh! strike,
    Cut off this painful limb, and end my being!
  NEOPTOLEMUS
    What can this mean, that unexpected thus
    It should torment thee?
  PHILOCTETES
    Know you not, my son?
  NEOPTOLEMUS
    What is the cause?
  PHILOCTETES
    Can you not guess it?
  NEOPTOLEMUS
    No.
  PHILOCTETES
    Nor I.
  NEOPTOLEMUS
    That's stranger still.
  PHILOCTETES
    My son, my son
  NEOPTOLEMUS
    This new attack is terrible indeed!
  PHILOCTETES
    'Tis inexpressible! Have pity on me!
  NEOPTOLEMUS
    What shall I do?
  PHILOCTETES
    Do not be terrified,
    And leave me. Its returns are regular,
    And like the traveller, when its appetite
    Is satisfied, it will depart. Oh! oh!
  NEOPTOLEMUS
    Thou art oppressed with ills on every side.
    Give me thy hand. Come, wilt thou lean upon me?
  PHILOCTETES
    No; but these arrows take; preserve 'em for me.
    A little while, till I grow better. Sleep
    Is coming on me, and my pains will cease.
    Let me be quiet. If meantime our foes
    Surprise thee, let nor force nor artifice
    Deprive thee of the great, the precious trust
    I have reposed in thee; that were ruin
    To thee, and to thy friend.
  NEOPTOLEMUS
    Be not afraid-
    No hands but mine shall touch them; give them to me.
  PHILOCTETES
    Receive them, son; and let it be thy prayer
    They bring not woes on thee, as they have done
    To me and to Alcides.
                           (PHILOCTETES gives him the bow and arrows.)
  NEOPTOLEMUS
    May the gods
    Forbid it ever! May they guide our course
    And speed our prosperous sails!
  PHILOCTETES
    Alas! my son,
    I fear thy vows are vain. Behold my blood
    Flows from the wound? Oh how it pains me! Now
    It comes, it hastens! Do not, do not leave me!
    Oh! that Ulysses felt this racking torture,
    E'en to his inmost soul! Again it comes!
    O Agamemnon!  Menelaus!  why
    Should not you bear these pangs as I have done?
    O death! where art thou, death? so often called,
    Wilt thou not listen? wilt thou never come?
    Take thou the Lemnian fire, my generous friend,
    Do me the same kind office which I did
    For my Alcides. These are thy reward;
    He gave them to me. Thou alone deservest
    The great inheritance. What says my friend?
    What says my dear preserver? Oh! where art thou?
  NEOPTOLEMUS
    I mourn thy hapless fate.
  PHILOCTETES
    Be of good cheer,
    Quick my disorder comes, and goes as soon;
    I only beg thee not to leave me here.
  NEOPTOLEMUS
    Depend on 't, I will stay.
  PHILOCTETES
    Wilt thou indeed?
  NEOPTOLEMUS
    Trust me, I will.
  PHILOCTETES
    I need not bind thee to it
    By oath.
  NEOPTOLEMUS
    Oh, no! 'twere impious to forsake thee.
  PHILOCTETES
    Give me thy hand, and pledge thy faith.
  NEOPTOLEMUS
    I do.
  PHILOCTETES  (pointing up to heaven)
    Thither, oh, thither lead!
  NEOPTOLEMUS
    What sayst thou? where?
  PHILOCTETES
    Above-
  NEOPTOLEMUS
    What, lost again? Why lookst thou thus
    On that bright circle?
  PHILOCTETES
    Let me, let me go!
  NEOPTOLEMUS  (lays hold of him)
    Where wouldst thou go?
  PHILOCTETES
    Loose me.
  NEOPTOLEMUS
    I will not.
  PHILOCTETES
    Oh!
    You'll kill me, if you do not.
  NEOPTOLEMUS  (lets him go)
    There, then; now
    Is thy mind better?
  PHILOCTETES
    Oh! receive me, earth!
    Receive a dying man. Here must I lie;
    For, oh! my pain's so great I cannot rise.

                 (PHILOCTETES sinks down on the earth
                    near the entrance of the cave.)

  NEOPTOLEMUS
    Sleep hath o'ertaken him. See, his head is lain
    On the cold earth; the balmy sweat thick drops
    From every limb, and from the broken vein
    Flows the warm blood; let us indulge his slumbers.
  CHORUS  (singing)
    Sleep, thou patron of mankind,
    Great physician of the mind,
    Who dost nor pain nor sorrow know,
    Sweetest balm of every woe,
    Mildest sovereign, hear us now;
    Hear thy wretched suppliant's vow;
    His eyes in gentle slumbers close,
    And continue his repose;
    Hear thy wretched suppliant's vow,
    Great physician, hear us now.
    And now, my son, what best may suit thy purpose
    Consider well, and how we are to act.
    What more can we expect? The time is come;
    For better far is opportunity
    Seized at the lucky hour than all the counsels
    Which wisdom dictates or which craft inspires.
  NEOPTOLEMUS  (chanting)
    He hears us not. But easy as it is
    To gain the prize, it would avail us nothing
    Were he not with us. Phoebus hath reserved
    For him alone the crown of victory;
    But thus to boast of what we could not do,
    And break our word, were most disgraceful to us.
  CHORUS  (singing)
    The gods will guide us, fear it not, my son;
    But what thou sayst speak soft, for well thou knowst
    The sick man's sleep is short. He may awake
    And hear us; therefore let us hide our purpose.
    If then thou thinkst as he does- thou knowst whom-
    This is the hour. At such a time, my son,
    The wisest err. But mark me, the wind's fair,
    And Philoctetes sleeps, void of all help-
    Lame, impotent, unable to resist,
    He is as one among the dead. E'en now
    We'll take him with us. 'Twere an easy task.
    Leave it to me, my son. There is no danger.
  NEOPTOLEMUS
    No more! His eyes are open. See, he moves.
  PHILOCTETES  (awaking)
    O fair returning light! beyond my hope;
    You too, my kind preservers! O my son!
    I could not think thou wouldst have stayed so long
    In kind compassion to thy friend. Alas!
    The Atreidae never would have acted thus.
    But noble is thy nature, and thy birth,
    And therefore little did my wretchedness,
    Nor from my wounds the noisome stench deter
    Thy generous heart. I have a little respite;
    Help me, my son I I'll try to rise; this weakness
    Will leave me soon, and then we'll go together.
  NEOPTOLEMUS
    I little thought to find thee thus restored.
    Trust me, I joy to see thee free from pain,
    And hear thee speak; the marks of death were on thee,
    Raise thyself up; thy friends here, if thou wilt,
    Shall carry thee, 'twill be no burthen to them
    If we request it.
  PHILOCTETES
    No; thy hand alone;
    I will not trouble them; 'twill be enough
    If they can bear with me and my distemper
    When we embark.
  NEOPTOLEMUS
    Well, be it so; but rise.
  PHILOCTETES  (rising)
    Oh I never fear; I'll rise as well as ever.
  NEOPTOLEMUS  (half to himself)
    How shall I act?
  PHILOCTETES
    What says my son?
  NEOPTOLEMUS
    Alas!
    I know not what to say; my doubtful mind-
  PHILOCTETES
    Talked you of doubts? You did not surely.
  NEOPTOLEMUS
    Aye,
    That's my misfortune.
  PHILOCTETES
    Is then my distress
    The cause at last you will not take me with you?
  NEOPTOLEMUS
    All is distress and misery when we act
    Against our nature and consent to ill.
  PHILOCTETES
    But sure to help a good man in misfortunes
    Is not against thy nature.
  NEOPTOLEMUS
    Men will call me
    A villain; that distracts me.
  PHILOCTETES
    Not for this;
    For what thou meanst to do thou mayst deserve it
  NEOPTOLEMUS
    What shall I do? Direct me, Jove! To hide
    What I should speak, and tell a base untruth
    Were double guilt.
  PHILOCTETES
    He purposes at last,
    I fear it much, to leave me.
  NEOPTOLEMUS
    Leave thee! No!
    But how to make thee go with pleasure hence,
    There I'm distressed.
  PHILOCTETES
    I understand thee not;
    What means my son?
  NEOPTOLEMUS
    I can no longer hide
    The dreadful secret from thee; thou art going
    To Troy, e'en to the Greeks, to the Atreidae.
  PHILOCTETES
    Alas! what sayest thou?
  NEOPTOLEMUS
    Do not weep, but hear me.
  PHILOCTETES
    What must I hear? what wilt thou do with me?
  NEOPTOLEMUS
    First set thee free; then carry thee, my friend,
    To conquer Troy.
  PHILOCTETES
    Is this indeed thy purpose?
  NEOPTOLEMUS
    This am I bound to do.
  PHILOCTETES
    Then am I lost,
    Undone, betrayed. Canst thou, my friend, do this?
    Give me my arms again.
  NEOPTOLEMUS
    It cannot be.
    I must obey the powers who sent me hither;
    justice enjoins- the common cause demands it,
  PHILOCTETES
    Thou worst of men, thou vile artificer
    Of fraud most infamous, what hast thou done?
    How have I been deceived? Dost thou not blush
    To look upon me, to behold me thus
    Beneath thy feet imploring? Base betrayer!
    To rob me of my bow, the means of life,
    The only means- give 'em, restore 'em to me!
    Do not take all Alas Alas! he hears me not,
    Nor deigns to speak, but casts an angry look
    That says I never shall be free again.
    O mountains, rivers, rocks, and savage herds!
    To you I speak- to you alone I now
    Must breathe my sorrows; you are wont to hear
    My sad complaints, and I will tell you all
    That I have suffered from Achilles' son,
    Who, bound by solemn oath to bear me hence
    To my dear native soil, now sails for Troy.
    The perjured wretch first gave his plighted hand,
    Then stole the sacred arrows of my friend,
    The son of Jove, the great Alcides; those
    He means to show the Greeks, to snatch me hence
    And boast his prize, as if poor Philoctetes,
    This empty shade, were worthy of his arm.
    Had I been what I was, he ne'er had thus
    Subdued me, and e'en now to fraud alone
    He owes the conquest. I have been betrayed!
    Give me my arms again, and be thyself
    Once more. Oh, speak! Thou wilt not? Then I'm lost.
    O my poor hut! again I come to thee
    Naked and destitute of food; once more
    Receive me, here to die; for now, no longer
    Shall my swift arrow reach the flying prey,
    Or on the mountains pierce the wandering herd:
    I shall myself afford a banquet now
    To those I used to feed on- they the hunters,
    And I their easy prey; so shall the blood
    Which I so oft have shed be paid by mine;
    And all this too from him whom once I deemed
    Stranger to fraud nor capable of ill;
    And yet I will not curse thee till I know
    Whether thou still retainst thy horrid purpose,
    Or dost repent thee of it; if thou dost not,
    Destruction wait thee!
  LEADER OF THE CHORUS
    We attend your pleasure,
    My royal lord, we must be gone; determine
    To leave, or take him with us.
  NEOPTOLEMUS
    His distress
    Doth move me much. Trust me, I long have felt
    Compassion for him.
  PHILOCTETES
    Oh then by the gods
    Pity me now, my son, nor let mankind
    Reproach thee for a fraud so base.
  NEOPTOLEMUS
    Alas!
    What shall I do? Would I were still at Scyros!
    For I am most unhappy.
  PHILOCTETES
    O my son!
    Thou art not base by nature, but misguided
    By those who are, to deeds unworthy of thee.
    Turn then thy fraud on them who best deserve it;
    Restore my arms, and leave me.
  NEOPTOLEMUS
    Speak, my friends,
    What's to be done?
                                            (ULYSSES enters suddenly.)
  ULYSSES
    Ah! dost thou hesitate?
    Traitor, be gone! Give me the arms.
  PHILOCTETES
    Ah me!
    Ulysses here?
  ULYSSES
    Aye! 'tis Ulysses' self
    That stands before thee.
  PHILOCTETES
    Then I'm lost, betrayed!
    This was the cruel spoiler.
  ULYSSES
    Doubt it not.
    'Twas I; I do confess it.
  PHILOCTETES  (to NEOPTOLEMUS)
    O my son!
    Give me them back.
  ULYSSES
    It must not be; with them
    Thyself must go, or we shall drag thee hence.
  PHILOCTETES
    And will they force me? O thou daring villain!
  ULYSSES
    They will, unless thou dost consent to go.
  PHILOCTETES
    Wilt thou, O Lemnos! wilt thou, mighty Vulcan!
    With thy all-conquering fire, permit me thus
    To be torn from thee?
  ULYSSES
    Know, great Jove himself
    Doth here preside. He hath decreed thy fate;
    I but perform his will.
  PHILOCTETES
    Detested wretch,
    Mak'st thou the gods a cover for thy crime?
    Do they teach falsehood?
  ULYSSES
    No, they taught me truth,
    And therefore, hence- that way thy journey lies.
                                                (Pointing to the sea)
  PHILOCTETES
    It doth not.
  ULYSSES
    But I say it must be so.
  PHILOCTETES
    And Philoctetes then was born a slave!
    I did not know it,
  ULYSSES
    No; I mean to place thee
    E'en with the noblest, e'en with those by whom
    Proud Troy must perish.
  PHILOCTETES
    Never will I go,
    Befall what may, whilst this deep cave is open
    To bury all my sorrows.
  ULYSSES
    What wouldst do?
  PHILOCTETES
    Here throw me down, dash out my desperate brains
    Against this rock, and sprinkle it with my blood.
  ULYSSES  (to the CHORUS)
    Seize, and prevent him!
                                                     (They seize him.)
  PHILOCTETES
    Manacled! O hands!
    How helpless are you now! those arms, which once
    Protected, thus torn from you!  (To ULYSSES)
    Thou abandoned,
    Thou shameless wretch! from whom nor truth nor justice,
    Naught that becomes the generous mind, can flow,
    How hast thou used me! how betrayed! Suborned
    This stranger, this poor youth, who, worthier far
    To be my friend than thine, was only here
    Thy instrument; he knew not what he did,
    And now, thou seest, repents him of the crime
    Which brought such guilt on him, such woes on me.
    But thy foul soul, which from its dark recess
    Trembling looks forth, beheld him void of art,
    Unwilling as he was, instructed him,
    And made him soon a master in deceit.
    I am thy prisoner now; e'en now thou meanst
    To drag me hence, from this unhappy shore,
    Where first thy malice left me, a poor exile,
    Deserted, friendless, and though living, dead
    To all mankind. Perish the vile betrayer!
    Oh! I have cursed thee often, but the gods
    Will never bear the prayers of Philoctetes.
    Life and its joys are thine, whilst I, unhappy,
    Am but the scorn of thee, and the Atreidae,
    Thy haughty masters. Fraud and force compelled thee,
    Or thou hadst never sailed with them to Troy.
    I lent my willing aid; with seven brave ships
    I ploughed the main to serve them. In return
    They cast me forth, disgraced me, left me here.
    Thou sayst they did it; they impute the crime
    To thee. And what will you do with me now?
    And whither must I go? What end, what purpose
    Could urge thee to it? I am nothing, lost
    And dead already. Wherefore- tell me, wherefore?-
    Am I not still the same detested burthen,
    Loathsome and lame? Again must Philoctetes
    Disturb your holy rites? If I am with you
    How can you make libations? That was once
    Your vile pretence for inhumanity.
    Oh! may you perish for the deed! The gods
    Will grant it sure, if justice be their care
    And that it is I know. You had not left
    Your native soil to seek a wretch like me
    Had not some impulse from the powers above,
    Spite of yourselves, ordained it. O my country!
    And you, O gods! who look upon this deed,
    Punish, in pity to me, punish all
    The guilty band! Could I behold them perish,
    My wounds were nothing; that would heal them all.
  LEADER  (to ULYSSES)
    Observe, my lord, what bitterness of soul
    His words express; he bends not to misfortune,
    But seems to brave it.
  ULYSSES
    I could answer him,
    Were this a time for words; but now, no more
    Than this- I act as best befits our purpose.
    Where virtue, truth, and justice are required
    Ulysses yields to none; I was not born
    To be o'ercome, and yet submit to thee.
    Let him remain. Thy arrows shall suffice;
    We want thee not! Teucer can draw thy bow
    As well as thou; myself with equal strength
    Can aim the deadly shaft, with equal skill.
    What could thy presence do? Let Lemnos keep thee.
    Farewell! perhaps the honours once designed
    For thee may be reserved to grace Ulysses.
  PHILOCTETES
    Alas! shall Greece then see my deadliest foe
    Adorned with arms which I alone should bear?
  ULYSSES
    No more! I must be gone.
  PHILOCTETES  (to NEOPTOLEMUS)
    Son of Achilles,
    Thou wilt not leave me too? I must not lose
    Thy converse, thy assistance.
  ULYSSES  (to NEOPTOLEMUS)
    Look not on him;
    Away, I charge thee! 'Twould be fatal to us.
  PHILOCTETES  (to the CHORUS)
    Will you forsake me, friends? Dwells no compassion
    Within your breasts for me?
  LEADER  (pointing to NEOPTOLEMUS)
    He is our master;
    We speak and act but as his will directs.
  NEOPTOLEMUS
    I know be will upbraid me for this weakness,
    But 'tis my nature, and I must consent,
    Since Philoctetes asks it. Stay you with him,
    Till to the gods our pious prayers we offer,
    And all things are prepared for our departure;
    Perhaps, meantime, to better thoughts his mind
    May turn relenting. We must go. Remember,
    When we shall call you, follow instantly.

            (NEOPTOLEMUS, still with the bow in his hands,
        goes out with ULYSSES. The lines in the following scene
     between PHILOCTETES and the CHORUS are chanted responsively.)

  PHILOCTETES
    O my poor hut! and is it then decreed
    Again I come to thee to part no more,
    To end my wretched days in this sad cave,
    The scene of all my woes? For whither now
    Can I betake me? Who will feed, support,
    Or cherish Philoctetes? Not a hope
    Remains for me. Oh! that th' impetuous storms
    Would bear me with them to some distant clime!
    For I must perish here.
  CHORUS
    Unhappy man!
    Thou hast provoked thy fate; thyself alone
    Art to thyself a foe, to scorn the good,
    Which wisdom bids thee take, and choose misfortune.
  PHILOCTETES
    Wretch that I am, to perish here alone!
    Oh! I shall see the face of man no more,
    Nor shall my arrows pierce their winged prey,
    And bring me sustenance! Such vile delusions
    Used to betray me! Oh! that pains like those
    I feel might reach the author of my woes!
  CHORUS
    The gods decreed it; we are not to blame.
    Heap not thy curses therefore on the guiltless,
    But take our friendship.
  PHILOCTETES  (pointing to the sea-shore)
    I behold him there;
    E'en now I see him laughing me to scorn
    On yonder shore, and in his hands the darts
    He waves triumphant, which no arms but these
    Had ever borne. O my dear glorious treasure!
    Hadst thou a mind to feel th' indignity,
    How wouldst thou grieve to change thy noble master,
    The friend of great Alcides, for a wretch
    So vile, so base, so impious as Ulysses!
  CHORUS
    justice will ever rule the good man's tongue,
    Nor from his lips reproach and bitterness
    Invidious flow. Ulysses, by the voice
    Of Greece appointed, only sought a friend
    To join the common cause, and serve his country.
  PHILOCTETES
    Hear me, ye winged inhabitants of air,
    And you, who on these mountains love to feed,
    My savage prey, whom once I could pursue;
    Fearful no more of Philoctetes, fly
    This hollow rock- I cannot hurt you now;
    You need not dread to enter here. Alas!
    You now may come, and in your turn regale
    On these poor limbs, when I shall be no more.
    Where can I hope for food? or who can breathe
    This vital air, when life-preserving earth
    No longer will assist him?
  CHORUS
    By the gods!
    Let me entreat thee, if thou dost regard
    Our master, and thy friend, come to him now,
    Whilst thou mayst 'scape this sad calamity;
    Who but thyself would choose to be unhappy
    That could prevent it?
  PHILOCTETES
    Oh! you have brought back
    Once more the sad remembrance of my griefs;
    Why, why, my friends, would you afflict me thus?
  CHORUS
    Afflict thee- how?
  PHILOCTETES
    Think you I'll e'er return
    To hateful Troy?
  CHORUS
    We would advise thee to it.
  PHILOCTETES
    I'll hear no more. Go, leave me!
  CHORUS
    That we shall
    Most gladly. To the ships, my friends; away!  (Going)
    Obey your orders.
  PHILOCTETES  (stops them)
    By protecting Jove,
    Who hears the suppliant's prayer, do not forsake me!
  CHORUS  (returning)
    Be calm then.
  PHILOCTETES
    O my friends! will you then stay?
    Do, by the gods I beg you.
  CHORUS
    Why that groan?
  PHILOCTETES
    Alas! I die. My wound, my wound! Hereafter
    What can I do? You will not leave me! Hear-
  CHORUS
    What canst thou say we do not know already?
  PHILOCTETES
    O'erwhelmed by such a storm of griefs as I am,
    You should not thus resent a madman's frenzy.
  CHORUS
    Comply then and be happy.
  PHILOCTETES
    Never, never!
    Be sure of that. Tho' thunder-bearing Jove
    Should with his lightnings blast me, would I go?
    No! Let Troy perish, perish all the host
    Who sent me here to die; but, O my friends!
    Grant me this last request.
  CHORUS
    What is it? Speak.
  PHILOCTETES
    A sword, a dart, some instrument of death.
  CHORUS
    What wouldst thou do?
  PHILOCTETES
    I'd hack off every limb.
    Death, my soul longs for death.
  CHORUS
    But wherefore is it?
  PHILOCTETES
    I'll seek my father.
  CHORUS
    Whither?
  PHILOCTETES
    In the tomb;
    There he must be. O Scyros! O my country!
    How could I bear to see thee as I am-
    I who had left thy sacred shores to aid
    The hateful sons of Greece? O misery!
                                              (He goes into the cave.)
  LEADER OF THE CHORUS  (speaking)
    Ere now we should have taken thee to our ships,
    But that advancing this way I behold
    Ulysses, and with him Achilles' son.

                         (NEOPTOLEMUS enters
                       still carrying the bow;
                 he is followed closely by ULYSSES.)

  ULYSSES
    Why this return? Wherefore this haste?
  NEOPTOLEMUS
    I come
    To purge me of my crimes.
  ULYSSES
    Indeed! What crimes?
  NEOPTOLEMUS
    My blind obedience to the Grecian host
    And to thy counsels.
  ULYSSES
    Hast thou practised aught
    Base or unworthy of thee?
  NEOPTOLEMUS
    Yes; by art
    And vile deceit betrayed th' unhappy.
  ULYSSES
    Whom?
    Alas! what mean you?
  NEOPTOLEMUS
    Nothing. But the son
    Of Poeas-
  ULYSSES
    Ha! what wouldst thou do? My heart
    Misgives me.
  NEOPTOLEMUS
    I have ta'en his arms, and now-
  ULYSSES
    Thou wouldst restore them! Speak! Is that thy purpose?
    Almighty Jove!
  NEOPTOLEMUS
    Unjustly should I keep
    Another's right?
  ULYSSES
    Now, by the gods, thou meanest
    To mock me! Dost thou not?
  NEOPTOLEMUS
    If to speak truth
    Be mockery.
  ULYSSES
    And does Achilles' son
    Say this to me?
  NEOPTOLEMUS
    Why force me to repeat
    My words so often to thee?
  ULYSSES
    Once to hear them
    Is once indeed too much.
  NEOPTOLEMUS
    Doubt then no more,
    For I have told thee all.
  ULYSSES
    There are, remember,
    There are who may prevent thee.
  NEOPTOLEMUS
    Who shall dare
    To thwart my purpose?
  ULYSSES
    All the Grecian host,
    And with them, I.
  NEOPTOLEMUS
    Wise as thou art, Ulysses,
    Thou talkst most idly.
  ULYSSES
    Wisdom is not thine
    Either in word or deed.
  NEOPTOLEMUS
    Know, to be just
    Is better far than to be wise.
  ULYSSES
    But where,
    Where is the justice, thus unauthorized,
    To give a treasure back thou ow'st to me,
    And to my counsels?
  NEOPTOLEMUS
    I have done a wrong,
    And I will try to make atonement for it.
  ULYSSES
    Dost thou not fear the power of Greece?
  NEOPTOLEMUS
    I fear
    Nor Greece nor thee, when I am doing right.
  ULYSSES
    'Tis not with Troy then we contend. but thee-
  NEOPTOLEMUS
    I know not that.
  ULYSSES
    Seest thou this hand? behold,
    It grasps my sword.
  NEOPTOLEMUS
    Mine is alike prepared,
    Nor seeks delay.
  ULYSSES
    But I will let thee go;
    Greece shall know all thy guilt, and shall revenge it.
                                                    (ULYSSES departs.)
  NEOPTOLEMUS
    'Twas well determined; always be as wise
    As now thou art, and thou mayst live in safety.
                                   (He approaches the cave and calls.)
    Ho! son of Poeas! Philoctetes, leave
    Thy rocky habitation, and come forth.
  PHILOCTETES  (from the cave)
    What noise was that? Who calls on Philoctetes?
                                                       (He comes out.)
    Alas! what would you, strangers? Are you come
    To heap fresh miseries on me?
  NEOPTOLEMUS
    Be of comfort,
    And bear the tidings which I bring.
  PHILOCTETES
    I dare not;
    Thy flattering tongue hath betrayed me.
  NEOPTOLEMUS
    And is there then no room for penitence?
  PHILOCTETES
    Such were thy words, when, seemingly sincere,
    Yet meaning ill, thou stolst my arms away.
  NEOPTOLEMUS
    But now it is not so. I only came
    To know if thou art resolute to stay,
    Or sail with us.
  PHILOCTETES
    No more of that; 'tis vain
    And useless all.
  NEOPTOLEMUS
    Art thou then fixed?
  PHILOCTETES
    I am;
    It is impossible to say how firmly.
  NEOPTOLEMUS
    I thought I could have moved thee, but I've done.
  PHILOCTETES
    'Tis well thou hast; thy labour had been vain;
    For never could my soul esteem the man
    Who robbed me of my dearest, best possession,
    And now would have me listen to his counsels-
    Unworthy offspring of the best of men!
    Perish th' Atreidae! perish first Ulysses!
    Perish thyself!
  NEOPTOLEMUS
    Withhold thy imprecations,
    And take thy arrows back.
  PHILOCTETES
    A second time
    Wouldst thou deceive me?
  NEOPTOLEMUS
    By th' almighty power
    Of sacred Jove I swear.
  PHILOCTETES
    O joyful sound!
    If thou sayst truly.
  NEOPTOLEMUS
    Let my actions speak.
    Stretch forth thy hand, and take thy arms again.

               (As NEOPTOLEMUS gives the bow and arrows
               to PHILOCTETES, ULYSSES suddenly enters.)

  ULYSSES
    Witness ye gods! Here, in the name of Greece
    And the Atreidae, I forbid it.
  PHILOCTETES
    Ha!
    What voice is that? Ulysses'?
  ULYSSES
    Aye, 'tis I-
    I who perforce will carry thee to Troy
    Spite of Achilles' son.
  PHILOCTETES
                               (He aims an arrow directly at ULYSSES.)
    Not if I aim
    This shaft aright.
  NEOPTOLEMUS  (laying hold of him)
    Now, by the gods, I beg thee
    Stop thy rash hand!
  PHILOCTETES
    Let go my arm.
  NEOPTOLEMUS
    I will not.
  PHILOCTETES
    Shall I not slay my enemy?
  NEOPTOLEMUS
    Oh, no!
    'Twould cast dishonour on us both.
                                            (ULYSSES hastily departs.)
  PHILOCTETES
    Thou knowst,
    These Grecian chiefs are loud pretending boasters,
    Brave but in tongue, and cowards in the field.
  NEOPTOLEMUS
    I know it; but remember, I restored
    Thy arrows to thee, and thou hast no cause
    For rage or for complaint against thy friend.
  PHILOCTETES
    I own thy goodness. Thou hast shown thyself
    Worthy thy birth; no son of Sisyphus,
    But of Achilles, who on earth preserved
    A fame unspotted, and amongst the dead
    Still shines superior, an illustrious shade.
  NEOPTOLEMUS
    Joyful I thank thee for a father's praise,
    And for my own; but listen to my words,
    And mark me well. Misfortunes, which the gods
    Inflict on mortals, they perforce must bear:
    But when, oppressed by voluntary woes,
    They make themselves unhappy, they deserve not
    Our pity or our pardon. Such art thou.
    Thy savage soul, impatient of advice,
    Rejects the wholesome counsel of thy friend,
    And treats him like a foe; but I will speak,
    Jove be my witness! Therefore hear my words,
    And grave them in thy heart. The dire disease
    Thou long hast suffered is from angry heaven,
    Which thus afflicts thee for thy rash approach
    To the fell serpent, which on Chrysa's shore
    Watched o'er the sacred treasures. Know beside,
    That whilst the sun in yonder east shall rise,
    Or in the west decline, distempered still
    Thou ever shalt remain, unless to Troy
    Thy willing mind transport thee. There the sons
    Of Aesculapius shall restore thee- there
    By my assistance shalt thou conquer Troy.
    I know it well; for that prophetic sage,
    The Trojan captive Helenus, foretold
    It should be so. "Proud Troy  (he added then)
    This very year must fall; if not, my life
    Shall answer for the falsehood." Therefore yield.
    Thus to be deemed the first of Grecians, thus
    By Poeas' favourite sons to be restored,
    And thus marked out the conqueror of Troy,
    Is sure distinguished happiness.
  PHILOCTETES
    O life!
    Detested, why wilt thou still keep me here?
    Why not dismiss me to the tomb! Alas!
    What can I do? How can I disbelieve
    My generous friend? I must consent, and yet
    Can I do this, and look upon the sun?
    Can I behold my friends- will they forgive,
    Will they associate with me after this?
    And you, ye heavenly orbs that roll around me,
    How will ye bear to see me linked with those
    Who have destroyed me, e'en the sons of Atreus,
    E'en with Ulysses, source of all my woes?
    My sufferings past I could forget; but oh!
    I dread the woes to come; for well I know
    When once the mind's corrupted it brings forth
    Unnumbered crimes, and ills to ills succeed.
    It moves my wonder much that thou, my friend,
    Shouldst thus advise me, whom it ill becomes
    To think of Troy. I rather had believed
    Thou wouldst have sent me far, far off from those
    Who have defrauded thee of thy just right,
    And gave thy arms away. Are these the men
    Whom thou wouldst serve? whom thou wouldst thus compel me
    To save and to defend? It must not be.
    Remember, O my son! the solemn oath
    Thou gav'st to bear me to my native soil.
    Do this, my friend, remain thyself at Scyros,
    And leave these wretches to be wretched still.
    Thus shalt thou merit double thanks, from me
    And from thy father; nor by succour given
    To vile betrayers prove thyself as vile.
  NEOPTOLEMUS
    Thou sayst most truly. Yet confide in heaven,
    Trust to thy friend, and leave this hated place.
  PHILOCTETES
    Leave it! For whom? For Troy and the Atreidae?
    These wounds forbid it.
  NEOPTOLEMUS
    They shall all be healed,
    Where I will carry thee.
  PHILOCTETES
    An idle tale
    Thou tellst me. surely; dost thou not?
  NEOPTOLEMUS
    I speak
    What best may serve us both.
  PHILOCTETES
    But, speaking thus,
    Dost thou not fear the' offended gods?
  NEOPTOLEMUS
    Why fear them?
    Can I offend the gods by doing good?
  PHILOCTETES
    What good? To whom? To me or to the' Atreidae?
  NEOPTOLEMUS
    I am thy friend, and therefore would persuade thee.
  PHILOCTETES
    And therefore give me to my foes.
  NEOPTOLEMUS
    Alas!
    Let not misfortunes thus transport thy soul
    To rage and bitterness.
  PHILOCTETES
    Thou wouldst destroy me.
  NEOPTOLEMUS
    Thou knowst me not.
  PHILOCTETES
    I know th' Atreidae well,
    Who left me here.
  NEOPTOLEMUS
    They did; yet they perhaps,
    E'en they, O Philoctetes! may preserve thee.
  PHILOCTETES
    I never will to Troy.
  NEOPTOLEMUS
    What's to be done?
    Since I can ne'er persuade thee, I submit;
    Live on in misery.
  PHILOCTETES
    Then let me suffer;
    Suffer I must; but, oh! perform thy promise;
    Think on thy plighted faith, and guard me home
    Instant, my friend, nor ever call back Troy
    To my remembrance; I have felt enough
    From Troy already.
  NEOPTOLEMUS
    Let us go; prepare!
  PHILOCTETES
    O glorious sound!
  NEOPTOLEMUS
    Bear thyself up.
  PHILOCTETES
    I will,
    If possible.
  NEOPTOLEMUS
    But how shall I escape
    The wrath of Greece?
  PHILOCTETES
    Oh! think not of it.
  NEOPTOLEMUS
    What
    If they should waste my kingdom?
  PHILOCTETES
    I'll be there.
  NEOPTOLEMUS
    Alas! what canst thou do?
  PHILOCTETES
    And with these arrows
    Of my Alcides-
  NEOPTOLEMUS
    Ha! What sayst thou?
  PHILOCTETES
    Drive
    Thy foes before me. Not a Greek shall dare
    Approach thy borders.
  NEOPTOLEMUS
    If thou wilt do this,
    Salute the earth, and instant hence. Away!

                    (HERCULES appears from above,
                   and speaks as he moves forward.)

  HERCULES
    Stay, son of Poeas! Lo to thee 'tis given
    Once more to see and hear thy loved Alcides,
    Who for thy sake hath left yon heavenly mansions,
    And comes to tell thee the decrees of Jove;
    To turn thee from the paths thou meanst to tread,
    And guide thy footsteps right. Therefore attend.
    Thou knowst what toils, what labours I endured,
    Ere I by virtue gained immortal fame;
    Thou too like me by toils must rise to glory-
    Thou too must suffer, ere thou canst be happy;
    Hence with thy friend to Troy, where honour calls,
    Where health awaits thee- where, by virtue raised
    To highest rank, and leader of the war,
    Paris, its hateful author, shalt thou slay,
    Lay waste proud Troy, and send thy trophies home,
    Thy valour's due reward, to glad thy sire
    On Oeta's top. The gifts which Greece bestows
    Must thou reserve to grace my funeral pile,
    And be a monument to after-ages
    Of these all-conquering arms. Son of Achilles
                                              (Turning to NEOPTOLEMUS)
    (For now to thee I speak),  remember this,
    Without his aid thou canst not conquer Troy,
    Nor Philoctetes without thee succeed;
    Go then, and, like two lions in the field
    Roaming for prey, guard ye each other well;
    My Aesculapius will I send e'en now
    To heal thy wounds-Then go, and conquer Troy;
    But when you lay the vanquished city waste.
    Be careful that you venerate the gods;
    For far above all other gifts doth Jove,
    Th' almighty father, hold true piety:
    Whether we live or die, that still survives
    Beyond the reach of fate, and is immortal.
  PHILOCTETES  (chanting)
    Once more to let me hear that wished-for voice,
    To see thee after so long time, was bliss
    I could not hope for. Oh! I will obey
    Thy great commands most willingly.
  NEOPTOLEMUS  (chanting)
    And I.
  HERCULES  (chanting)
    Delay not then. For lo! a prosperous wind
    Swells in thy sail. The time invites. Adieu!
                                          (HERCULES disappears above.)
  PHILOCTETES  (chanting)
    I will but pay my salutations here,
    And instantly depart. To thee, my cave,
    Where I so long have dwelt, I bid farewell!
    And you, ye nymphs, who on the watery plains
    Deign to reside, farewell! Farewell the noise
    Of beating waves, which I so oft have heard
    From the rough sea, which by the black winds driven
    O'erwhelmed me, shivering. Oft th' Hermaean mount
    Echoed my plaintive voice, by wintry storms
    Afflicted, and returned me groan for groan.
    Now, ye fresh fountains, each Lycaean spring,
    I leave you now. Alas! I little thought
    To leave you ever. And thou sea-girt isle,
    Lemnos, farewell! Permit me to depart
    By thee unblamed, and with a prosperous gale
    To go where fate demands, where kindest friends
    By counsel urge me, where all-powerful Jove
    In his unerring wisdom hath decreed.
  CHORUS  (chanting)
    Let us be gone, and to the ocean nymphs
    Our humble prayers prefer, that they would all
    Propitious smile, and grant us safe return.


                                   -THE END-