FullReads

NEO.
In doing right I fear not them nor thee.

OD.
I call thy power in question.

NEO.
Then I’ll fight,
Not with Troy’s legions, but with thee.

OD.
Come on!
Let fortune arbitrate.

NEO.
Thou seest my hand
Feeling the hilt.

OD.
And me thou soon shalt see
Doing the like and dallying not!–And yet
I will not touch thee, but will go and tell
The army, that shall wreak this on thy head.

[Exit]

NEO.
Thou show’st discretion: which if thou preserve,
Thou may’st maintain a path exempt from pain.
Ho! son of Poeas, Philoctetes, come
And leave thy habitation in the rock.

PHI.
What noise again is troubling my poor cave?
Why do ye summon me? What crave ye, sirs?
Ha! ’tis some knavery. Are ye come to add
Some monster evil to my mountainous woe?

NEO.
Fear not, but hearken to what now I speak.

PHI.
I needs must fear thee, whose fair words erewhile
Brought me to bitter fortune.

NEO.
May not men
Repent and change?

PHI.
Such wast thou in thy talk,
When thou didst rob me of my bow,–so bright
Without, so black within.

NEO.
Ah, but not now,
Assure thee! Only let me hear thy will,
Is ‘t constant to remain here and endure,
Or to make voyage with us?

PHI.
Stop, speak no more!
Idle and vain will all thine utterance be.

NEO.
Thou art so resolved?

PHI.
More firmly than I say.

NEO.
I would I might have brought thee to my mind,
But since my words are out of tune, I have done.

PHI.
Thou wert best. No word of thine can touch my soul
Or win me to thy love, who by deceit
Hast reft my life away. And then thou com’st
To school me,–of noblest father, basest son!
Perish, the Atridae first of all, and then
Laertes’ child, and thou!

NEO.
Curse me no more,
But take this hallowed weapon from my hand.

PHI.
What words are these? Am I again deceived?

NEO.
No, by the holiest name of Zeus on high!

PHI.
O voice of gladness, if thy speech be true!

NEO.
The deed shall prove it. Only reach thy hand,
And be again sole master of thy bow.

[ODYSSEUS appears]

OD.
But I make protest, in the sight of Heaven,
For Atreus’ sons, and all the Achaean host.

PHI.
Dear son, whose voice disturbs us? Do I hear
Odysseus?

OD.
Ay, and thou behold’st him nigh,
And he shall force thee to the Trojan plain,
Howe’er Achilles’ offspring make or mar.

PHI.
This shaft shall bear thee sorrow for that boast.

NEO.
Let it not fly, by Heaven!

PHI.
Dear child, let go
Mine arm!

NEO.
I will not.

[Exit ODYSSEUS]

PHI.
Ah! Why hast thou robbed
My bow of bringing down mine enemy?

NEO.
This were ignoble both for thee and me.

PHI.
One thing is manifest, the first o’ the host
Lying forerunners of the Achaean band,
Are brave with words, but cowards with the steel.