Aeschylus, Fragments 136–154: Philoctetes to Oreithyia

O Spercheus’ stream and cattle-grazing haunts!

Where the wind suffers neither to remain nor to sail forth.

Having hung the bow on a black pine-tree

For the snake let not go its hold, but fixed in me its dreadful . . ., the ruin of my foot.

The ulcer ever feeds on my foot’s flesh.

O death, the healer, refuse me not, but come! For thou alone art the mediciner of ills incurable, and no pain layeth hold on the dead.

And many a deceitful meal with greedy jaws did they snatch away amid the first delight of appetite.

Hungry wailing standeth not aloof.

They wear socks in their well-fitting shoes.

Into the cave he rushed like a wild boar.

[Not a king,] but a trafficker by sea, one who takes petty wares from out a land

But that man was gentler than mulberries are soft.

And if unto the dead thou art fain to do good, or if thou wouldst work them ill—’tis all one, since they feel not or joy or grief. Nevertheless our righteous resentment is mightier than they, and Justice executeth the dead man’s wrath.

Hail, offspring of Andraemon of Lyrnessus, whence Hector brought his dear wife.

We, who dwell by the lake, honour Hermes as our ancestor.

Arsenals and wreckage of ships

For a heron, in its flight on high, shall smite thee with its dung, its belly’s emptyings; a spine from out this beast of the sea shall rot thy head, aged and scant of hair.

. . . and check the oven’s soaring blaze; for let me but behold some soot, the tenant of the hearth, weaving in a single wreath of torrent flame, I’ll fire the roof and cinder it. But now—not yet have I blared my noble strain.

With my two jaws I blow a blast and confound the main.