PHILOKTETES
Your words are useless. You will never win me with words to your friendship. You have destroyed me with deceitful talk, and then you come to make speeches, bastard son of a noble father. A curse on you, on the Atreids and Odysseus, but especially on you.
NEOPTOLEMOS
Curse no more. Take your bow.
I give it back to you now, Philoktetes.