The chamber’s empty; no man is within.
And no provision for a man’s abode?
Litter of trodden leaves as for a couch.
And is that all—no other sign of life?
A cup of uncouth handiwork, rough hewn
From out a log; some tinder, too, I see.
These are his household treasures.
Faugh! and here
Spread in the sun to dry, are filthy rags
Dank with the ooze of some malignant sore.
This clearly is his dwelling-place, and he
Hard by, for how could any travel far
Thus maimed and hobbled by an ancient wound?
Either in quest of food, or else to find
Some simples known to him as anodynes,
He’s gone abroad, and shortly will return;
So post thy henchman there to watch the path,
Lest he surprise me. I of all the Greeks
Am the one foe he liefest here would catch.
Guard shall be kept; my man is on his way;
And now if thou hast more to say, say on. Exit Attendant.
Son of Achilles, not in thews alone
Or prowess must thou prove thy breed to-day.
If tasks be set thee that seem strange, no less
Thou must perform them; therefore wast thou sent.
What is thy hest?
Thou must cajole and cheat
The soul of Philoctetes by fair words,
And when he asks thee who and whence thou art,
“Achilles’ son,” make answer; hide not this.
But add, “I am sailing homewards and have left
The fleet in dudgeon, wroth against the chiefs
Who first prevailed on me to quit my home,
Because without me Troy could ne’er be taken,
And then upon my coming basely spurned
My righteous title to Achilles’ arms,
And gave them to Odysseus.” At my name
Heap on me every scoff and scorn and taunt;
It will not hurt me, but if thou should’st fail
’Twill sorely vex the Argives one and all.
This man’s artillery we needs must have;
No hope to capture Troy-town otherwise.
Why thou canst hold free converse with the man
Securely and I cannot, thou shalt learn.
Thou wast not bound by oath or pledge to sail
Nor wast thou with the fleet that first embarked;
But naught of this, if taxed, can I deny.
Therefore, if, bow in hand, he counters me,
I die, and shall involve thee in my death.
How to possess us of those matchless arms—
There is the puzzle; set thy wits to that.
I know, my son, thy honest nature shrinks
From glozing words and practice of deceit;
But (for ’tis sweet to snatch a victory)
Be bold to-day and honest afterwards.
For one brief hour of lying follow me;
All time to come shall prove thy probity.
Son of Laertes, what upon my ear
Grates in the telling, I should hate to do.
Such is my nature; any taint of guile
I loathe, and such, they tell me, was my sire.
But I am ready, not by fraud, but force,
To bring the man; for, crippled in one foot,
Against our numbers he can prove no match.
Nathless, since I was sent to aid thee, prince,
I fear to seem a laggard; yet prefer
To fail with honour than succeed by fraud.
Son of a gallant sire, I too in youth
Was slow of tongue and forward with my hand;
But I have learnt by trial of mankind
Mightier than deeds of puissance is the tongue.
It comes to this that thou would’st have me lie.
Entangle Philoctetes by deceit.
Why not persuade him rather than deceive?
Persuasion’s vain, and force of no avail.
What arms hath he of such miraculous might?
Unerring arrows, tipp’d with instant death.
Might not a bold man come to grips with him?
No, as I told thee, guile alone avails.
Thou deem’st it, then, no shame to tell a lie?
Not if success depends upon a lie.
With what face shall one dare to speak such words?
If thou wouldst profit thou must have no qualms.
What gain to me, should he be brought to Troy?
Without these arms Troy-town cannot be sacked.
Ye told me I should take it. Was that false?
Not thou apart from these nor these from thee.
The quarry’s worth the chase, if this be so.
Know that success a double meed shall win.
Make plain this twofold prize and I’ll essay,
Thou wilt be hailed as wise no less than brave.
I’ll do it—here’s my hand—and risk the shame.
Good. My instructions—thou rememberest them?
I have consented; trust me for the rest.
Stay here then and await his coming, whilst,
Lest I should be espied, I go away
And send back to the ship our sentinel;
But if ye seem to dally overmuch,
He shall return, the same man, but disguised
Past recognition, as a sailor clad.
When he accosts thee, mark each word, my son,
To catch the hid significance, for he
Will speak in riddles. This I leave to thee
And seek the vessel. Hermes aid us both,
Who sent us on our way, the God of cunning,
And she who never failed me yet, my queen,
Athenè Polias, queen of victory! Exit Odysseus.
Strophe 1
What, O my master, what must I conceal
And what reveal,
In a strange land a stranger, by what wile
His shrewd suspects beguile?
Instruct me; for his art all art excels
With whom there dwells
The sovereignty of Zeus, the Kingly Crown
That hath to thee come down,
My son, by immemorial right divine;
Such skill is thine;
So teach me, master, how I best may speed
Thy present need.
First to find his lair, no doubt,
Ye are keen; so boldly scout.
When the wild man ye have spied
Who within this cave doth bide,
Watch the motions of my hand,
Prompt to act as I command.
Antistrophe 1
Now, as at all times, Prince, I gladly heed,
And serve thy need.
But first to learn his common haunts ’twere well;
I pray thee tell,
Lest he should light upon me unaware,
His track, his lair.
Say, if within his den he will be found,
Or
