The sufferings of Philoctetes become so intense that he prays for death, but when the agony is over he falls asleep, and seems like one dead.

Neoptolemos has the bow and arrows in his possession, and might take them to Odysseus, claiming that the work he had undertaken was accomplished, but he begins to realize that unless he brings Philoctetes also, the weapons will be of no avail, so he patiently awaits the awakening of the sufferer. When Philoctetes, waking, finds Neoptolemos still with him, he expresses great surprise, and his confidence in this late-found friend is redoubled. Neoptolemos begins to feel the stings of conscience when he sees that he has accomplished all that he was instructed to do, by deceit. He repents, and at last tells Philoctetes the truth, that he will take him not to the home that he so longs to see, but back to Troy, where he will be shown to the Argive host, and the oracle will be fulfilled. Philoctetes exclaims that he is lost, betrayed, and more wretched than before, but he demands the return of his bow and arrows. Neoptolemos refuses to give them up, and while this exciting conversation is going on Odysseus comes to them. As soon as Philoctetes recognizes him, he determines to throw himself over the cliff into the sea, but Odysseus orders the sailors to hold him fast. They seize him, and bind his hands behind his back. Addressing Odysseus, Philoctetes exclaims:

O hands!

What shame ye suffer lacking now
The bow-string that ye loved so well, and thus
Made prisoners by this man! O thou, whose soul

M

Has never known a generous, healthy thought,
How hast thou tricked me, ta'en me in a snare,
Putting this boy I knew not as thy blind,

Who nothing knew except to do his task :

And, clearly, now he grieves, sore vexed at heart,
At all his faults, at all my sufferings.

But thy base soul, that ever peeps and spies

Through chinks and crannies, taught him but too well,
Guileless and all unwilling as he was,

The subtlety of fraud.

Perdition seize thee!

And now why take ye me?

Why drag me off?

How if I should sail,

What aim have ye in this?

Could ye unto the gods burn sacrifice,

Or pour libation?

Ye cast me forth.

"Twas on that pretence

Perdition seize you all!

O my fatherland, and all ye gods who look on me, avenge,
Avenge me on them all in time to come,

If ye have pity on me.

Odys. Ho, leave him there!

Lay no hand on him; let him here remain.

With these thine arms we have no need of thee:
Teucros is with us, skilled in this thine art;
And I, too, boast that I, not less than thou,
This bow can handle, with my hand shoot straight;
What need we thee? In Lemnos walk at will;
And let us go. And they perchance will give
As prize to me what rightly thou might'st claim.

Odysseus tells Neoptolemos to go also without looking at Philoctetes, for fear he will ruin the success they have gained by his sympathy. Philoctetes gives vent to his misery and despair, for without his bow and arrows he will not be able to supply himself with food. He begs the followers of Neoptolemos to give him a

sword or an axe, or any other weapon with which he may destroy himself. While he is eagerly talking to them, Neoptolemos and Odysseus return. Neoptolemos has repented of the deceit that he practised on Philoctetes, and in spite of Odysseus he returns the bow and arrows to Philoctetes.

Neoptolemos then tells him the whole story of the prophecy in regard to the taking of Troy by means of the darts which only Philoctetes can shoot from his magic bow. He also assures him that he can be healed of his wound by going with them of his own free will and putting himself under the care of the son of Asclepios, Machaon, the great surgeon of the Grecian army.

Philoctetes pleads to be taken to his own country instead of to Troy, and Neoptolemos finally consents to take him there in his ship. Just as they are ready to start Heracles appears, descending from the sky, in glory. He bids them not to go until they hear his words, and after convincing Philoctetes that it is the voice of Heracles that speaks, he says:

List thou to these my words:

Going with this youth to Troïa's town,

First thou shalt respite find from thy sore plague,

And for thy valor chosen from the host,

Shalt with my arrows take away the life

Of Paris, who was cause of all these ills,

And shalt sack Troïa, and shalt send its spoils
To thine own dwelling (gaining highest prize

Of valor in the army) by the plains

Of Eta, where thy Poas dwells.

And all the spoils thou gainest in this war,

As true thank-offerings for these darts of mine,

Lay thou upon my grave. (To Neoptolemos.) And now to thee, Achilles' son, I this declare; nor thou

Apart from him, nor he apart from thee,

May Troïa take. But ye as lions twain

That roam together, guard thou him, he thee.

(To Philoctetes.) And I will send as healer of thy wounds, Asclepios to Ilion. Yet once more

By this my bow must it be captured. Then

(Give heed to this) when ye the land lay waste,

Shew all religious reverence to the gods;

For all things else our father Zeus counts less. [Religion e'en in death abides with men;

Die they or live, it does not pass away].

Philoctetes no longer objects to returning to Troy. He says a few words of farewell to his island-home; then, with Neoptolemos and the sailors, praying to the sea-nymphs for protection, they all embark for the voyage to Troy.

Discuss with your class this question: Is your sense of justice to all the characters in this play satisfied with the way it ends?

Compare the island-home of Philoctetes with that of Robinson Crusoe; of Enoch Arden; of Alexander Selkirk.

Which of all these stories appeals most strongly to your sympathies?

Among the many adventures met with by Ulysses, while returning from Troy to his native land, his visit with his companions to the land of the Lotos-eaters seems to possess a peculiar charm for modern writers,

and allusions to it are frequent. Tennyson's version of the fascinating story, found among his early poems, appears below.

THE LOTOS-EATERS.

From the "Odyssey," Book IX. BRYANT'S TRANS.

On the tenth day we reached the land where dwell
The Lotos-eaters, men whose food is flowers.
We landed on the mainland, and our crews
Near the fleet galleys took their evening meal.
And when we all had eaten and had drunk,
I sent explorers forth

two chosen men,

A herald was the third to learn what race

Of mortals nourished by the fruits of earth

Possessed the land. They went and found themselves

Among the Lotos-eaters soon, who used

No violence against their lives, but gave
Into their hands the lotos plant to taste.
Whoever tasted once of that sweet food
Wished not to see his native country more,
Nor give his friends the knowledge of his fate.
And then my messengers desired to dwell
Among the Lotos-eaters, and to feed
Upon the lotos, never to return.

By force I led them weeping to the fleet,
And bound them in the hollow ships beneath

The benches. Then I ordered all the rest

Of my beloved comrades to embark

In haste, lest, tasting of the lotos, they

Should think no more of home. All straightway went
On board, and on the benches took their place,

And smote the hoary ocean with their oars.

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