Sophocles · Philoctetes Φιλοκτήτης

Sophocles, Philoctetes 1162–1217: Fourth stasimon (cont.): the Chorus plead; Philoctetes asks for a sword

The Chorus beg Philoctetes in the name of the gods to accept the way of escape, but he accuses them of wanting to take him to Troy and tells them to go, and then calls them back. He refuses again to go to Troy, and begs them to bring him a sword or an axe. He says that he wants to die and join his father in Hades, and mourns for his home.

Lines 1162–1217 · 436 words · click a number to copy its link

Chorus

1162πρὸς θεῶν, εἴ τι σέβει ξένον, πέλασσον, εὐνοίᾳ πάσᾳ πελάταν· 1165ἀλλὰ γνῶθʼ, εὖ γνῶθʼ ἐπὶ σοὶ κῆρα τάνδʼ ἀποφεύγειν. οἰκτρὰ γὰρ βόσκειν, ἀδαὴς δʼ ἔχειν μυρίον ἄχθος, ὃ ξυνοικεῖ.

In the name of the gods, if you have any reverence for a friend who approaches you in all kindness, approach him! But know this, and know it well: it is in your power to escape this plague. Cruel is it that you feed it with your own flesh, and that there is no way for you to learn to endure the countless torments that dwell with it.

Φιλοκτήτης 1170πάλιν πάλιν παλαιὸν ἄλγημʼ ὑπέμνασας, ὦ λῷστε τῶν πρὶν ἐντόπων. τί μʼ ὤλεσας; τί μʼ εἴργασαι; Χορός τί τοῦτʼ ἔλεξας; Φιλοκτήτης εἰ σὺ τὰν ἐμοὶ στυγερὰν 1175Τρῳάδα γᾶν μʼ ἤλπισας ἄξειν. Χορός τόδε γὰρ νοῶ κράτιστον. Φιλοκτήτης ἀπό νύν με λείπετʼ ἤδη. Χορός φίλα μοι, φίλα ταῦτα παρήγγειλας ἑκόντι τε πράσσειν. ἴωμεν ἴωμεν 1180ναὸς ἵνʼ ἡμῖν τέτακται. Φιλοκτήτης μή, πρὸς ἀραίου Διός, ἔλθῃς, ἱκετεύω. Χορός μετρίαζʼ. Φιλοκτήτης ὦ ξένοι, μείνατε, πρὸς θεῶν. Χορός τί θροεῖς; Φιλοκτήτης 1185αἰαῖ αἰαῖ, δαίμων δαίμων· ἀπόλωλʼ ὁ τάλας· ὦ ποὺς πούς, τί σʼ ἔτʼ ἐν βίῳ τεύξω τῷ μετόπιν τάλας; 1190ὦ ξένοι, ἔλθετʼ ἐπήλυδες αὖθις. Χορός τί ῥέξοντες ἀλλοκότῳ γνώμᾳ τῶν πάρος, ὧν προύφαινες; Φιλοκτήτης οὔτοι νεμεσητόν, ἀλύοντα χειμερίῳ 1195λύπᾳ καὶ παρὰ νοῦν θροεῖν. Χορός βᾶθί νυν, ὦ τάλαν, ὥς σε κελεύομεν. Φιλοκτήτης οὐδέποτʼ οὐδέποτʼ, ἴσθι τόδʼ ἔμπεδον, οὐδʼ εἰ πυρφόρος ἀστεροπητὴς βροντᾶς αὐγαῖς μʼ εἶσι φλογίζων. 1200ἐρρέτω Ἴλιον οἵ θʼ ὑπʼ ἐκείνῳ πάντες ὅσοι τόδʼ ἔτλασαν ἐμοῦ ποδὸς ἄρθρον ἀπῶσαι. ἀλλʼ, ὦ ξένοι, ἕν γέ μοι εὖχος ὀρέξατε. Χορός ποῖον ἐρεῖς τόδʼ ἔπος; Φιλοκτήτης ξίφος, εἴ ποθεν, ἢ γένυν ἢ βελέων τι προπέμψατε. Χορός 1205ὡς τίνα δὴ ῥέξῃς παλάμαν ποτέ; Φιλοκτήτης χρῶτʼ ἀπὸ πάντα καὶ ἄρθρα τέμω χερί· φονᾷ φονᾷ νόος ἤδη. Χορός τί ποτε; Φιλοκτήτης πατέρα ματεύων. Χορός 1210ποῖ γᾶς; Φιλοκτήτης ἐς Ἅιδου· οὐ γάρ ἐστʼ ἐν φάει γʼ ἔτι. ὦ πόλις, ὦ πατρία, πῶς ἂν εἰσίδοιμʼ ἄθλιός σʼ ἀνήρ, ὅς γε σὰν λιπὼν ἱερὰν 1215λιβάδʼ ἐχθροῖς ἔβαν Δαναοῖς ἀρωγός· ἔτʼ οὐδέν εἰμι. Χορός ἐγὼ μὲν ἤδη καὶ πάλαι νεὼς ὁμοῦ

Philoctetes Again, again, you have recalled the old agony to my thoughts—kindest though you are of all who have visited before! Why have you ruined me? What have you done to me?

Chorus What do you mean?

Philoctetes That it was your hope to take me to that Trojan land I abhor.

Chorus Yes, I believe that to be the best course.

Philoctetes Leave me, then—immediately!

Chorus Pleasant, pleasant, indeed, is the task you set me, and I am ready to obey. Come, let us be going, each to his station in the ship!

Philoctetes By Zeus who hears men’s curses, do not go, I implore you!

Chorus Be moderate.

Philoctetes Friends, in the name of the gods, stay!

Chorus Why do you call?

Philoctetes Ayee, ayee! Doom, Doom! My suffering kills me! Foot, my foot, what shall I do with you in the days to come? O friends, return, come back to me!

Chorus To do what that has a different spirit from that of your former commands?

Philoctetes There is no reason for indignation when the words of one crazed by a storm of pain are senseless.

Chorus Come with us, then, poor man, as we bid you.

Philoctetes Never, never—of that be certain! Not even if the lord of the fiery lightning comes to wrap me in the blaze of his thunderbolts! Ilium be damned, and as many of the men before its walls as dared reject this foot of mine! But oh, friends, grant me one wish!

Chorus What would you ask?

Philoctetes A sword, if you can find one, or an axe, or any weapon— please, pass it to me!

Chorus That you may execute what scheme?

Philoctetes Mangle all this body, and sever limb from limb with my own hand! Death, death is my thought now!

Chorus Why, why ever would you—

Philoctetes I am seeking my father—

Chorus In what land?

Philoctetes In Hades; he dwells in the sunlight no more. Ah, my city, city of my fathers! I crave to see you, unhappy man that I truly am for leaving your sacred stream and going to help the Danaans, my enemies! I am nothing now, nothing anymore!

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.