PHILOCTETES
He purposes at last,
I fear it much, to leave me.
NEOPTOLEMUS
Leave thee! No!
But how to make thee go with pleasure hence,
There I'm distressed.
PHILOCTETES
I understand thee not;
What means my son?
NEOPTOLEMUS
I can no longer hide
The dreadful secret from thee; thou art going
To Troy, e'en to the Greeks, to the Atreidae.
PHILOCTETES
Alas! what sayest thou?
NEOPTOLEMUS
Do not weep, but hear me.
PHILOCTETES
What must I hear? what wilt thou do with me?
NEOPTOLEMUS
First set thee free; then carry thee, my friend,
To conquer Troy.
PHILOCTETES
Is this indeed thy purpose?
NEOPTOLEMUS
This am I bound to do.
PHILOCTETES
Then am I lost,
Undone, betrayed. Canst thou, my friend, do this?
Give me my arms again.
NEOPTOLEMUS
It cannot be.
I must obey the powers who sent me hither;
justice enjoins- the common cause demands it,
PHILOCTETES
Thou worst of men, thou vile artificer
Of fraud most infamous, what hast thou done?
How have I been deceived? Dost thou not blush
To look upon me, to behold me thus
Beneath thy feet imploring? Base betrayer!
To rob me of my bow, the means of life,
The only means- give 'em, restore 'em to me!
Do not take all Alas Alas! he hears me not,
Nor deigns to speak, but casts an angry look
That says I never shall be free again.
O mountains, rivers, rocks, and savage herds!
To you I speak- to you alone I now
Must breathe my sorrows; you are wont to hear
My sad complaints, and I will tell you all
That I have suffered from Achilles' son,
Who, bound by solemn oath to bear me hence
To my dear native soil, now sails for Troy.
The perjured wretch first gave his plighted hand,
Then stole the sacred arrows of my friend,
The son of Jove, the great Alcides; those
He means to show the Greeks, to snatch me hence
And boast his prize, as if poor Philoctetes,
This empty shade, were worthy of his arm.
Had I been what I was, he ne'er had thus
Subdued me, and e'en now to fraud alone
He owes the conquest. I have been betrayed!
Give me my arms again, and be thyself
Once more. Oh, speak! Thou wilt not? Then I'm lost.
O my poor hut! again I come to thee
Naked and destitute of food; once more
Receive me, here to die; for now, no longer
Shall my swift arrow reach the flying prey,
Or on the mountains pierce the wandering herd:
I shall myself afford a banquet now
To those I used to feed on- they the hunters,
And I their easy prey; so shall the blood
Which I so oft have shed be paid by mine;
And all this too from him whom once I deemed
Stranger to fraud nor capable of ill;
And yet I will not curse thee till I know
Whether thou still retainst thy horrid purpose,
Or dost repent thee of it; if thou dost not,
Destruction wait thee!
LEADER OF THE CHORUS
We attend your pleasure,
My royal lord, we must be gone; determine
To leave, or take him with us.
NEOPTOLEMUS
His distress
Doth move me much. Trust me, I long have felt
Compassion for him.
PHILOCTETES
Oh then by the gods
Pity me now, my son, nor let mankind
Reproach thee for a fraud so base.
NEOPTOLEMUS
Alas!
What shall I do? Would I were still at Scyros!
For I am most unhappy.
PHILOCTETES
O my son!
Thou art not base by nature, but misguided
By those who are, to deeds unworthy of thee.
Turn then thy fraud on them who best deserve it;
Restore my arms, and leave me.
NEOPTOLEMUS
Speak, my friends,
What's to be done?
(ULYSSES enters suddenly.)
ULYSSES
Ah! dost thou hesitate?
Traitor, be gone! Give me the arms.
PHILOCTETES
Ah me!
Ulysses here?
ULYSSES
Aye! 'tis Ulysses' self
That stands before thee.
PHILOCTETES
Then I'm lost, betrayed!
This was the cruel spoiler.
ULYSSES
Doubt it not.
'Twas I; I do confess it.
PHILOCTETES (to NEOPTOLEMUS)
O my son!
Give me them back.
ULYSSES
It must not be; with them
Thyself must go, or we shall drag thee hence.
PHILOCTETES
And will they force me? O thou daring villain!
ULYSSES
They will, unless thou dost consent to go.
PHILOCTETES
Wilt thou, O Lemnos! wilt thou, mighty Vulcan!
With thy all-conquering fire, permit me thus
To be torn from thee?
ULYSSES
Know, great Jove himself
Doth here preside. He hath decreed thy fate;
I but perform his will.
PHILOCTETES
Detested wretch,
Mak'st thou the gods a cover for thy crime?
Do they teach falsehood?
ULYSSES
No, they taught me truth,
And therefore, hence- that way thy journey lies.
(Pointing to the sea)
PHILOCTETES
It doth not.
ULYSSES
But I say it must be so.
PHILOCTETES
And Philoctetes then was born a slave!
I did not know it,
ULYSSES
No; I mean to place thee
E'en with the noblest, e'en with those by whom
Proud Troy must perish.
PHILOCTETES
Never will I go,
Befall what may, whilst this deep cave is open
To bury all my sorrows.
ULYSSES
What wouldst do?
PHILOCTETES
Here throw me down, dash out my desperate brains
Against this rock, and sprinkle it with my blood.
ULYSSES (to the CHORUS)
Seize, and prevent him!
(They seize him.)
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