FullReads

PHI.
O morning full of brightness! Kindest friend,
Sweet mariners, how can I make you feel,
In act, how dearly from my heart I love you!
Ye have won my soul. Let us be gone, my son,–
First having said farewell to this poor cave,
My homeless dwelling-place, that thou may’st know,
How barely I have lived, how firm my heart!
Methinks another could not have endured
The very sight of what I bore. But I
Through strong necessity have conquered pain.

CH.
Stay: let us understand. There come two men
A stranger, with a shipmate of thy crew.
When ye have heard them, ye may then go in.

[Enter Messenger, disguised as a merchantman.]

MERCHANTMAN.
Son of Achilles, my companion here,
Who with two more remained to guard thy ship,
Agreed to help me find thee where thou wert,
Since unexpectedly, through fortune’s will,
I meet thee, mooring by the self-same shore.
For like a merchantman, with no great sail,
Making my course from Ilion to my home,
Grape-clustered Peparethos, when I heard
The mariners declare that one and all
Were of thy crew, I would not launch again,
Without a word, till we had told our news.–
Methinks thou knowest nought of thine own case,
What new devices of the Argive chiefs
Surround thee; nor devices only now,
But active deeds, no longer unperformed.

NEO.
Well, stranger, for the kindness thou hast shown,–
Else were I base,–my heart must thank thee still.
But tell me what thou meanest, that I may learn
What new-laid plot thou bring’st me from the camp.

MER.
Old Phoenix, Acamas and Demophon
Are gone in thy pursuit with ships and men.

NEO.
To bring me back with reasons or perforce?

MER.
I know not. What I heard, I am here to tell.

NEO.
How? And is this in act? Are they set forth
To please the Atridae, Phoenix and the rest?

MER.
The thing is not to do, but doing now.

NEO.
What kept Odysseus back, if this be so,
From going himself? Had he some cause for fear?

MER.
He and the son of Tydeus, when our ship
Hoist sail, were gone to fetch another man.

NEO.
For whom could he himself be sailing forth?

MER.
For some one,–but first tell me, whispering low
Whate’er thou speakest,–who is this I see?

NEO.
(speaking aloud).

This, sir, is Philoctetes the renowned.

MER.
(aside to NEOPTOLEMUS).

Without more question, snatch thyself away
And sail forth from this land.

PHI.
What saith he, boy?
Through what dark traffic is the mariner
Betraying me with whispering in thine ear?

NEO.
I have not caught it, but whate’er he speaks
He must speak openly to us and thee.

MER.
Seed of Achilles, let me not offend
The army by my words! Full many a boon,
Being poor, I reap from them for service done.

NEO.
The Atridae are my foes; the man you see
Is my fast friend, because he hates them sore.
Then, if you come in kindness, you must hide
Nothing from him or me of all thou hast heard.

MER.
Look what thou doest, my son!

NEO.
I mark it well.