酷兔英语

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O death! where art thou, death? so often called,
Wilt thou not listen? wilt thou never come?

Take thou the Lemnian fire, my generous friend,
Do me the same kind office which I did

For my Alcides. These are thy reward;
He gave them to me. Thou alone deservest

The great inheritance. What says my friend?
What says my dear preserver? Oh! where art thou?

NEOPTOLEMUS
I mourn thy hapless fate.

PHILOCTETES
Be of good cheer,

Quick my disorder comes, and goes as soon;
I only beg thee not to leave me here.

NEOPTOLEMUS
Depend on 't, I will stay.

PHILOCTETES
Wilt thou indeed?

NEOPTOLEMUS
Trust me, I will.

PHILOCTETES
I need not bind thee to it

By oath.
NEOPTOLEMUS

Oh, no! 'twere impious to forsake thee.
PHILOCTETES

Give me thy hand, and pledge thy faith.
NEOPTOLEMUS

I do.
PHILOCTETES (pointing up to heaven)

Thither, oh, thither lead!
NEOPTOLEMUS

What sayst thou? where?
PHILOCTETES

Above-
NEOPTOLEMUS

What, lost again? Why lookst thou thus
On that bright circle?

PHILOCTETES
Let me, let me go!

NEOPTOLEMUS (lays hold of him)
Where wouldst thou go?

PHILOCTETES
Loose me.

NEOPTOLEMUS
I will not.

PHILOCTETES
Oh!

You'll kill me, if you do not.
NEOPTOLEMUS (lets him go)

There, then; now
Is thy mind better?

PHILOCTETES
Oh! receive me, earth!

Receive a dying man. Here must I lie;
For, oh! my pain's so great I cannot rise.

(PHILOCTETES sinks down on the earth
near the entrance of the cave.)

NEOPTOLEMUS
Sleep hath o'ertaken him. See, his head is lain

On the cold earth; the balmy sweat thick drops
From every limb, and from the broken vein

Flows the warm blood; let us indulge his slumbers.
CHORUS (singing)

Sleep, thou patron of mankind,
Great physician of the mind,

Who dost nor pain nor sorrow know,
Sweetest balm of every woe,

Mildest sovereign, hear us now;
Hear thy wretched suppliant's vow;

His eyes in gentle slumbers close,
And continue his repose;

Hear thy wretched suppliant's vow,
Great physician, hear us now.

And now, my son, what best may suit thy purpose
Consider well, and how we are to act.

What more can we expect? The time is come;
For better far is opportunity

Seized at the lucky hour than all the counsels
Which wisdom dictates or which craft inspires.

NEOPTOLEMUS (chanting)
He hears us not. But easy as it is

To gain the prize, it would avail us nothing
Were he not with us. Phoebus hath reserved

For him alone the crown of victory;
But thus to boast of what we could not do,

And break our word, were most disgraceful to us.
CHORUS (singing)

The gods will guide us, fear it not, my son;
But what thou sayst speak soft, for well thou knowst

The sick man's sleep is short. He may awake
And hear us; therefore let us hide our purpose.

If then thou thinkst as he does- thou knowst whom-
This is the hour. At such a time, my son,

The wisest err. But mark me, the wind's fair,
And Philoctetes sleeps, void of all help-

Lame, impotent, unable to resist,
He is as one among the dead. E'en now

We'll take him with us. 'Twere an easy task.
Leave it to me, my son. There is no danger.

NEOPTOLEMUS
No more! His eyes are open. See, he moves.

PHILOCTETES (awaking)
O fair returning light! beyond my hope;

You too, my kind preservers! O my son!
I could not think thou wouldst have stayed so long

In kind compassion to thy friend. Alas!
The Atreidae never would have acted thus.

But noble is thy nature, and thy birth,
And therefore little did my wretchedness,

Nor from my wounds the noisome stench deter
Thy generous heart. I have a little respite;

Help me, my son I I'll try to rise; this weakness
Will leave me soon, and then we'll go together.

NEOPTOLEMUS
I little thought to find thee thus restored.

Trust me, I joy to see thee free from pain,
And hear thee speak; the marks of death were on thee,

Raise thyself up; thy friends here, if thou wilt,
Shall carry thee, 'twill be no burthen to them

If we request it.
PHILOCTETES

No; thy hand alone;
I will not trouble them; 'twill be enough

If they can bear with me and my distemper
When we embark.

NEOPTOLEMUS
Well, be it so; but rise.

PHILOCTETES (rising)
Oh I never fear; I'll rise as well as ever.

NEOPTOLEMUS (half to himself)
How shall I act?

PHILOCTETES
What says my son?

NEOPTOLEMUS
Alas!

I know not what to say; my doubtful mind-
PHILOCTETES

Talked you of doubts? You did not surely.
NEOPTOLEMUS

Aye,
That's my misfortune.

PHILOCTETES
Is then my distress

The cause at last you will not take me with you?
NEOPTOLEMUS

All is distress and misery when we act
Against our nature and consent to ill.

PHILOCTETES
But sure to help a good man in misfortunes

Is not against thy nature.
NEOPTOLEMUS

Men will call me
A villain; that distracts me.

PHILOCTETES
Not for this;

For what thou meanst to do thou mayst deserve it
NEOPTOLEMUS

What shall I do? Direct me, Jove! To hide
What I should speak, and tell a base untruth

Were double guilt.
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


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