PHILOCTETES.
Philoctetes is the possessor of the bow and arrows of Hercules, without which Troy, which has now been besieged for ten years, cannot be taken. Suffering from an ulcer caused by the bite of the Hydra, and becoming intolerable by his yells of anguish to the Hellenic camp, he has been put ashore by Ulysses on the lonely island of Lemnos, and there left for the ten years, whence he has conceived a deadly hatred of Ulysses and the Hellenic host. His bow and arrows being indispensable, the crafty Ulysses undertakes the task of inveigling him, and goes to Lemnos for that purpose, taking with him Neoptolemus, the young and generous son of Achilles, as a decoy. Neoptolemus, at the instance of Ulysses, filches from Philoctetes the bow and arrows, but being overcome by his nobler nature restores them. Here is now a crisis worthy of the intervention of a god. Hercules descends upon the scene, bids Philoctetes go to Troy with his bow, and promises to send Aesculapius to heal him of his sickness.
* * * * *
THE DECOY.
Ulysses explains the plan of action to Neoptolemus, and labours to bend him to his purpose.
LINES 1-134.
ULYSSES.
This is the shore of Lemnos' lonely isle,
By man untrodden, where, O worthy son
Of great Achilles, by our Hellas deemed
Her mightiest chief, Neoptolemus, erewhile
The Melian son of Poeas I cast forth,
The Princes having so commanded me,
Since in his foot he had a wasting sore,
And would not let us sacrifice or pour
Libations undisturbed, but filled the camp
With lamentations wild and blasphemous,
Yelling in agony. Yet why dilate,
On what has happened? We will stint our words;
He may espy my presence, and my plan
Of capturing him be ruined utterly.
Now must thy part be done; look round and see
Where is a rocky cave with double mouth,
So formed that in the winter twice the sun
Falls on the sitter, and in summer time
The breeze wafts slumber through two apertures.
A little way below, on the left hand,
Thou'lt find a spring, if it is running still.
Approach, and signal to me silently
Whether he is near by or is gone forth,
That I may then impart the rest to thee,
And we may jointly execute my plan.
NEOPTOLEMUS.
My work, Ulysses, has been quickly done.
Methinks I see the cave of which you speak.
ULYSSES.
Is it above us, tell me, or below?
NEOPTOLEMUS.
Above us here, and sound of step is none.
ULYSSES.
See that he is not sleeping in his lair.
NEOPTOLEMUS.
I look, and none in the retreat appears.
ULYSSES.
And is there naught to show that man dwells there?
NEOPTOLEMUS.
A bed of leaves, as though one couched thereon.
ULYSSES.
Is all else bare? Is there no garniture?
NEOPTOLEMUS.
There is a wooden cup, the handiwork
Of some rough workman, and these kindling-sticks.
ULYSSES.
Thy inventory shows that he is here.
NEOPTOLEMUS.
Faugh! here are rags left in the sun to dry,
Full of the running of some putrid sore.
ULYSSES.
'Tis plain enough that here his dwelling is.
Himself, too, must be near; for how could one,
Lame with an ancient ulcer, travel far?
He has gone forth either for provender,
Or to bring home some herb which soothes his pain.
Send thy attendant to explore the coast,
Lest unawares I should fall in with him:
All Hellas were not such a prize as I.
NEOPTOLEMUS.
The attendant is despatched; watch will be kept.
Go on and tell me what thou dost desire.
ULYSSES.
Son of Achilles, what thou cam'st to do.
Thou must do bravely, not with hand alone,
But with thy heart, and if I ask aught new
Blench not; it is to aid me thou art here.
NEOPTOLEMUS.
What wouldst thou have me do?
ULYSSES.
Beguile the mind
Of Philoctetes by thy wily words.
When he asks who thou art, and whence, reply
Achilles' son; no lie is needed here.
But say thou'rt sailing homeward, having left
The Achaean host in mortal enmity,
Since, when their prayers had drawn thee from thy home,
They having no hope else of taking Troy,
They did refuse the arms Achilles bore
To the right heir, when he demanded them,
And gave them to Ulysses, heaping all
The foul reproaches that thou wilt on me,
For they'll not hurt me. If thou dost this not,
Thou wilt bring woe on the whole Argive host,
For if we fail yon archer's bow to win,
Thou ne'er shalt conquer the Dardanian land.
That thou canst safely and with confidence
Approach him, while I cannot, this will prove:
Thou didst not sail constrained by any oath,
Nor by compulsion, nor in the first fleet;
But I can nothing of all this deny.
Me if, still master of his arms, he sees,
I am undone, and shall undo thee too.
Thy task, then, is out of his hands to steal
By subtlety, the unconquerable bow.
Well do I know thy nature is not formed
For falsehood, nor for treacherous device,
But still success is sweet; stretch but a point,
To-morrow we'll return to righteousness.
For a small part of one brief day consent
To play the knave, then to the end of life
Be virtue's paragon and cynosure.
NEOPTOLEMUS.
Son of Laertes, what my ears abhor
To hear, my hand abhors to execute.
So was it, as they tell me, with my sire.
To take the man by force and not by guile
I am prepared: he is alone and lame,
While we are many: he would strive in vain.
Commissioned as I am to second thee,
I must be loyal, but would rather lose
With honour, than dishonourably win.
ULYSSES.
Son of a glorious sire, myself in youth
Was ready with my hand, and slow of tongue.
Experience has taught me that the tongue
Is a man's leading member, not his hand.
NEOPTOLEMUS.
What is it thou dost bid me do but lie?
ULYSSES.
I bid thee Philoctetes circumvent.
NEOPTOLEMUS.
Will not persuasion work as well as guile?
ULYSSES.
He will not yield, and force him thou canst not.
NEOPTOLEMUS.
Has he such might as to defy us all?
ULYSSES.
He has the unerring arrows winged with death.
NEOPTOLEMUS.
Is it not safe e'en to encounter him?
ULYSSES.
Only if thou canst snare him as I say.
NEOPTOLEMUS.
Seems it not shameful to thee thus to lie?
ULYSSES.
No, if the lie alone can do our work.
NEOPTOLEMUS.
How look him in the face and say such things?
ULYSSES.
With gain in view our scruples must give way.
NEOPTOLEMUS.
Suppose him brought to Troy, what gain to me?
ULYSSES.
Troy can be taken only by his bow.
NEOPTOLEMUS.
I, then, am not to be her conqueror.
ULYSSES.
Not by thyself, nor without thee the bow.
NEOPTOLEMUS.
If so it be, the bow must be secured.
ULYSSES.
Secure it and a double meed is thine.
NEOPTOLEMUS.
Prove this to me, and I will do thy will.
ULYSSES.
Thou wilt be hailed at once as wise and brave.
NEOPTOLEMUS.
Well, I will do it; all my qualms are gone.
ULYSSES.
Canst thou remember what erewhile I taught?
NEOPTOLEMUS.
That can I, since my word has once been passed.
ULYSSES.
Then bide thou here, and wait for his approach:
I will withdraw, lest I should meet his eye.
Our sentinels shall to the ship return,
And if ye seem to me to tarry long,
I will despatch the same man back again,
Having disguised him as a shipmaster,
That unsuspect he may my bidding do.
My son, in riddles he will speak to thee,
And see that thou dost read his riddle right.
I'll to the ship and leave the rest to thee.
May Hermes, god of cunning, help his own,
And may Athene, Queen of victory
And cities, save her votary once more.
* * * * *
THE HERO BETRAYED.
Neoptolemus, having filched the bow of Philoctetes, Philoctetes prays him to restore it.
LINES 927-962.
PHILOCTETES
O pest, O bane, O of all villainy
Vile masterpiece, what hast thou done to me?
How am I duped? Wretch, hast thou no regard
For the unfortunate, the suppliant?
Thou tak'st my life when thou dost take my bow.
Give it me back, good youth, I do entreat.
O by thy gods, rob me not of my life.
Alas! he answers not, but as resolved
Upon denial, turns away his face.
O havens, headlands, lairs of mountain beasts,
That my companions here have been, O cliffs
Steep-faced, since other audience have I none,
In your familiar presence I complain
Of the wrong done me by Achilles' son.
Home he did swear to take me, not to Troy.
Against his plighted faith the sacred bow
Of Heracles, the son of Zeus, he steals,
And means to show it to the Argive host.
He fancies that he over strength prevails,
Not seeing that I am a corpse, a shade,
A ghost. Were I myself, he had not gained
The day, nor would now save by treachery.
I am entrapped. Ah me! what can I do?
Yet be thyself and give me back my bow.
Say that thou wilt. He speaks not; I am lost.
O rock, with twofold doorway, I return
To thee disarmed, bereft of sustenance.
Deserted, I shall wither in that cell,
No longer slaying bird or sylvan beast
With yonder bow. Myself shall with my flesh
Now feed the creatures upon which I fed,
And be by my own quarry hunted down.
Thus shall I sadly render blood for blood,
And all through one that seemed to know no wrong.
Curse thee I will not till all hope is fled
Of thy repentance; then accursed die.
End of Project Gutenberg's Specimens of Greek Tragedy, by Goldwin Smith