Sophocles · Philoctetes Φιλοκτήτης

Sophocles, Philoctetes 1004–1080: Fourth episode (cont.): Odysseus takes the bow and leaves Philoctetes

Philoctetes, seized by Odysseus' men, laments that he has lost his bow and his means of life, and curses Odysseus. Odysseus answers that he has no more need of him now that he has the weapons, since Teucer and he can use the bow, and tells his men to release Philoctetes and leave him on Lemnos. Neoptolemus says that he will be thought soft-hearted, but tells the Chorus to wait with Philoctetes until the sailors have readied the ship.

Lines 1004–1080 · 793 words · click a number to copy its link

Philoctetes

1004ὦ χεῖρες, οἷα πάσχετʼ ἐν χρείᾳ φίλης 1005νευρᾶς, ὑπʼ ἀνδρὸς τοῦδε συνθηρώμεναι. ὦ μηδὲν ὑγιὲς μηδʼ ἐλεύθερον φρονῶν, οἷʼ αὖ μʼ ὑπῆλθες, ὥς μʼ ἐθηράσω, λαβὼν πρόβλημα σαυτοῦ παῖδα τόνδʼ ἀγνῶτʼ ἐμοί, ἀνάξιον μὲν σοῦ, κατάξιον δʼ ἐμοῦ, 1010ὃς οὐδὲν ᾔδει πλὴν τὸ προσταχθὲν ποεῖν, δῆλος δὲ καὶ νῦν ἐστιν ἀλγεινῶς φέρων οἷς τʼ αὐτὸς ἐξήμαρτεν οἷς τʼ ἐγὼ ʼπαθον. ἀλλʼ ἡ κακὴ σὴ διὰ μυχῶν βλέπουσʼ ἀεὶ ψυχή νιν ἀφυῆ τʼ ὄντα κοὐ θέλονθʼ ὅμως 1015εὖ προυδίδαξεν ἐν κακοῖς εἶναι σοφόν. καὶ νῦν ἔμʼ, ὦ δύστηνε, συνδήσας νοεῖς ἄγειν ἀπʼ ἀκτῆς τῆσδʼ, ἐν ᾗ με προυβάλου ἄφιλον ἔρημον ἄπολιν, ἐν ζῶσιν νεκρόν. φεῦ. ὄλοιο· καί σοι πολλάκις τόδʼ ηὐξάμην. 1020ἀλλʼ οὐ γὰρ οὐδὲν θεοὶ νέμουσιν ἡδύ μοι, σὺ μὲν γέγηθας ζῶν, ἐγὼ δʼ ἀλγύνομαι τοῦτʼ αὔθʼ, ὅτι ζῶ σὺν κακοῖς πολλοῖς τάλας, γελώμενος πρὸς σοῦ τε καὶ τῶν Ἀτρέως διπλῶν στρατηγῶν, οἷς σὺ ταῦθʼ ὑπηρετεῖς. 1025καίτοι σὺ μὲν κλοπῇ τε κἀνάγκῃ ζυγεὶς ἔπλεις ἅμʼ αὐτοῖς, ἐμὲ δὲ τὸν πανάθλιον, ἑκόντα πλεύσανθʼ ἑπτὰ ναυσὶ ναυβάτην, ἄτιμον ἔβαλον, ὡς σὺ φής, κεῖνοι δὲ σέ. καὶ νῦν τί μʼ ἄγετε; τί μʼ ἀπάγεσθε; τοῦ χάριν; 1030ὃς οὐδέν εἰμι καὶ τέθνηχʼ ὑμῖν πάλαι. πῶς, ὦ θεοῖς ἔχθιστε, νῦν οὐκ εἰμί σοι χωλός, δυσώδης; πῶς θεοῖς ἔξεσθʼ, ὁμοῦ πλεύσαντος αἴθειν ἱερά; πῶς σπένδειν ἔτι; αὕτη γὰρ ἦν σοι πρόφασις ἐκβαλεῖν ἐμέ. 1035κακῶς ὄλοισθʼ· ὀλεῖσθε δʼ ἠδικηκότες τὸν ἄνδρα τόνδε, θεοῖσιν εἰ δίκης μέλει. ἔξοιδα δʼ ὡς μέλει γʼ· ἐπεὶ οὔποτʼ ἂν στόλον ἐπλεύσατʼ ἂν τόνδʼ εἵνεκʼ ἀνδρὸς ἀθλίου, εἰ μή τι κέντρον θεῖον ἦγʼ ὑμᾶς ἐμοῦ. 1040ἀλλʼ, ὦ πατρῴα γῆ θεοί τʼ ἐπόψιοι, τίσασθε τίσασθʼ ἀλλὰ τῷ χρόνῳ ποτὲ ξύμπαντας αὐτούς, εἴ τι κἄμʼ οἰκτίρετε· ὡς ζῶ μὲν οἰκτρῶς, εἰ δʼ ἴδοιμʼ ὀλωλότας τούτους, δοκοῖμʼ ἂν τῆς νόσου πεφευγέναι.

O my arms, what shames you suffer for lack of your cherished bow, now that you are made that man’s bound quarry! And you, who cannot think one healthy or one noble thought, how stealthily you have once more ambushed and trapped me, taking this boy for your screen, because he was a stranger to me. He is too good for your company, but worthy of mine, since he had no thought but to execute his orders, and he already shows remorse for his own errors and for the wrongs done me. But your corrupt mind, always on the lookout from some position of ambush, trained him well—unsuited and unwilling though he was— to be cunning in evil. And now, wretch, for me you plan bonds and passage from the very shore on which you had me flung away, friendless, abandoned, citiless, a corpse in the eyes of the living. Ah! Hades take you! Indeed I have often so prayed for you. But, because the gods grant me nothing that is sweet, you remain alive and you laugh, while I live miserably among countless sufferings, mocked by you and by the sons of Atreus, the two generals whom you serve on this errand. And yet you sailed with them only when brought under their yoke by trickery and compulsion. But me, when, to my utter ruin, I sailed of my own accord as their mate with seven ships, me they cast out of ship and honor, as you claim, while they say that it was your doing. And now, why would you take me? Why have me led away? For what purpose? I am nothing, and, as far as you were concerned, I have long been dead. You creature abhorred by the gods, how is it that you no longer find me crippled and foul-smelling? How, if I sail with you, can you burn sacrifices to the gods, or make libations any more? That was your pretext for casting me away in the first place. A cruel death for you!—and die you shall for your unjust treatment of me, if the gods care for justice. But I know that they do care for it, since you would never have made this voyage for one so miserable, unless some god-sent goad had driven you after me. O, fatherland, and you watchful gods, bring your vengeance, bring your vengeance on them all after so long, if at all you pity me! Yes, my life merits pity. Yet if I were to see those men overthrown, I would believe that I had escaped my plague.

Χορός 1045βαρύς τε καὶ βαρεῖαν ὁ ξένος φάτιν τήνδʼ εἶπʼ, Ὀδυσσεῦ, κοὐχ ὑπείκουσαν κακοῖς. Ὀδυσσεύς πόλλʼ ἂν λέγειν ἔχοιμι πρὸς τὰ τοῦδʼ ἔπη, εἴ μοι παρείκοι· νῦν δʼ ἑνὸς κρατῶ λόγου. οὗ γὰρ τοιούτων δεῖ, τοιοῦτός εἰμʼ ἐγώ· 1050χὤπου δικαίων κἀγαθῶν ἀνδρῶν κρίσις, οὐκ ἂν λάβοις μου μᾶλλον οὐδένʼ εὐσεβῆ. νικᾶν γε μέντοι πανταχοῦ χρῄζων ἔφυν, πλὴν εἰς σέ· νῦν δὲ σοί γʼ ἑκὼν ἐκστήσομαι. ἄφετε γὰρ αὐτὸν μηδὲ προσψαύσητʼ ἔτι· 1055ἐᾶτε μίμνειν. οὐδὲ σοῦ προσχρῄζομεν, τά γʼ ὅπλʼ ἔχοντες ταῦτʼ, ἐπεὶ πάρεστι μὲν Τεῦκρος παρʼ ἡμῖν, τήνδʼ ἐπιστήμην ἔχων, ἐγώ θʼ, ὃς οἶμαι σοῦ κάκιον οὐδὲν ἂν τούτων κρατύνειν, μηδʼ ἐπιθύνειν χερί. 1060τί δῆτα σοῦ δεῖ; χαῖρε τὴν Λῆμνον πατῶν· ἡμεῖς δʼ ἴωμεν, καὶ τάχʼ ἂν τὸ σὸν γέρας τιμὴν ἐμοὶ νείμειεν, ἣν σὲ χρῆν ἔχειν. Φιλοκτήτης οἴμοι· τί δράσω δύσμορος; σὺ τοῖς ἐμοῖς ὅπλοισι κοσμηθεὶς ἐν Ἀργείοις φανεῖ; Ὀδυσσεύς 1065μή μʼ ἀντιφώνει μηδέν, ὡς στείχοντα δή. Φιλοκτήτης ὦ σπέρμʼ Ἀχιλλέως, οὐδὲ σοῦ φωνῆς ἔτι γενήσομαι προσφθεγκτός, ἀλλʼ οὕτως ἄπει; Ὀδυσσεύς χώρει σύ· μὴ πρόσλευσσε, γενναῖός περ ὤν, ἡμῶν ὅπως μὴ τὴν τύχην διαφθερεῖς. Φιλοκτήτης 1070ἦ καὶ πρὸς ὑμῶν ὧδʼ ἔρημος, ὦ ξένοι, λειφθήσομαι δὴ κοὐκ ἐποικτερεῖτέ με; Χορός ὅδʼ ἐστὶν ἡμῶν ναυκράτωρ ὁ παῖς· ὅσʼ ἂν οὗτος λέγῃ σοι, ταῦτά σοι χἠμεῖς φαμέν. Νεοπτόλεμος ἀκούσομαι μὲν ὡς ἔφυν οἴκτου πλέως 1075πρὸς τοῦδʼ· ὅμως δὲ μείνατʼ, εἰ τούτῳ δοκεῖ, χρόνον τοσοῦτον, εἰς ὅσον τά τʼ ἐκ νεὼς στείλωσι ναῦται καὶ θεοῖς εὐξώμεθα. χοὖτος τάχʼ ἂν φρόνησιν ἐν τούτῳ λάβοι λῴω τινʼ ἡμῖν. νὼ μὲν οὖν ὁρμώμεθον, 1080ὑμεῖς δʼ, ὅταν καλῶμεν, ὁρμᾶσθαι ταχεῖς.

Chorus Bitter is the stranger, and bitter his words, Odysseus. They do not bend before the storm of his troubles.

Odysseus I could say much in answer to his claims, if time allowed; but now I can say one thing only. What kind of man the occasion demands, that kind of man am I. And accordingly, where the judgment at hand is of just and good men, you could find no man more pious than me. Victory, however, is my inborn desire in every field—save with regard to you. To you, in this case, I will gladly give way. Yes, release him, and lay not another finger upon him. Let him stay here. We have no further need of you, now that we have these weapons. For Teucer is there among our forces, well-skilled in this craft, as am I, and I believe that I can master this bow in no way worse than you, and point it with no worse a hand. So what need is there of you? Farewell! Enjoy your strolls on Lemnos! We must be going. And perhaps your onetime prize will bring me the honor which ought to have been your own.

Philoctetes Ah, no, what shall I do? Are you to shine before the Argives graced with my arms?

Odysseus Argue with me no more. I am going.

Philoctetes Seed of Achilles, will you, too, grant me your voice no more, but leave without a word?

Odysseus Come on! Do not look at him, kind and noble though you are. Do not obliterate our good fortune.

Philoctetes And will you also, friends, leave me so desolate and show me no pity?

Chorus The boy commands our ship. Whatever he says to you, that is our answer also.

Neoptolemus I shall be told by Odysseus here that I am too soft-hearted; but remain here, if that one agrees, until the sailors have readied everything on board, and we have made our prayers to the gods. In the interval, perhaps, he will obtain a better attitude towards us. And so we two are going. And you, when we call you, be quick to come.

People and places in this passage

English translation by Richard C. Jebb (modernised by Perseus) (1898). Original text: Greek text: Francis Storr (ed. and trans.), Sophocles, Loeb Classical Library, London: William Heinemann, 1913, as digitised by Perseus. English: Richard C. Jebb, Sophocles: The Plays and Fragments, The Philoctetes, Cambridge University Press, 1898 (Perseus's modernised version of Jebb's prose translation).

Greek text and translation from the Perseus Digital Library, Tufts University, CC BY-SA 4.0 (Perseus Digital Library); translation public domain. Introductions, summaries and notes © GreekMythology.com.