Sir Richard C. Jebb Commentary on Sophocles: Philoctetes 2

Commentary on Sophocles: Philoctetes. Sir Richard C. Jebb. Cambridge. 1932.

Sponsored by Perseus Project, Tufts University.

Funding provided by National Endowment for the Humanities.

Current edition Experimental

Commentary (R. C. Jebb) (OCR draft) (English) (Commentary (R. C. Jebb))

Provisional text from uncorrected OCR; expect errors.

Editions (2)
Greek (Lewis Campbell, 1879) (OCR draft) Experimental (Greek (Lewis Campbell, 1879)) — 135 focus
Τί χρὴ τί χρή με, δέσποτ᾽ δέσποτα μ', ἐν ξένᾳ ξένον
135
στέγειν, ἢ τί λέγειν πρὸς ἄνδρ᾽ ὑπόπταν ;
φράζε μοι.
τέχνα γὰρ τέχνας ἑτέρας προὔχει
καὶ γνώμα, παρ᾿ ὅτῳ τὸ θεῖον
Διὸς σκῆπτρον ἀνάσσεται.
140
σὲ δ᾽, ὦ τέκνον, τόδ᾽ ἐλήλυθεν
πᾶν κράτος ὠγύγιον· τό μοι ἔννεπε,
τί σοι χρεὼν ὑπουργεῖν.
Νῦν μὲν ἴσως γὰρ γὰρ ἴσως τόπον τόπον τόπον ἐσχατιαῖς
προσιδεῖν ἐθέλεις ἐθέλεις ἐθέλεις ἐθέλοις ὅντινα κεῖται,
145
δέρκου θαρσῶν· ὁπόταν δὲ μόλῃ
δεινὸς ὁδίτης τῶνδ᾽ ἐκ μελάθρων,
πρὸς ἐμὴν αἰεὶ χεῖρα προχωρῶν
πειρῶ τὸ παρὸν θεραπεύειν.
Μέλον πάλαι μέλημά μοι λέγεις, ἄναξ,* Μέλον πάλαι μέλημά μοι λέγεις ἄναξ τὸ σὸν
150
φρουρεῖν φρορεῖν φρουρεῖν ὄμμ᾽ ἐπὶ σῷ μάλιστα καιρῷ·
νῦν δέ μοι
λέγ᾽ αὐλὰς αὐλᾶσ αὐλὰς ποίας ἔνεδρος ναίει
καὶ χῶρον τίν' ἔχει. τὸ γάρ μοι
μαθεῖν οὐκ ἀποκαίριον,
155
μὴ προσπεσών με λάθῃ μὴ με λάθῃ προσπεσών ποθέν,
τίς τόπος, ἢ τίς ἕδρα, τίν' ἔχει στίβον,
ἔναυλον, ἢ θυραῖον.
Οἶκον μὲν ὁρᾷς τόνδ᾽ ἀμφίθυρον
πετρίνης κοίτης.
160
Οἰκτείρω νιν ἔγωγ᾽, ὅπως,
μή του κηδομένου μὴ τοὺς κηδομένους μή του κηδομένου βροτῶν
170
μηδὲ μὴ μηδὲ σύντροφον ὄμμ᾽ ἔχων,
δύστανος, μόνος αἰεί ἀεὶ,
Οὗτος πρωτογόνων ἴσως
οἴκων οὐδενὸς ὕστερος,
180
πάντων ἄμμορος ἐν βίῳ
κεῖται μοῦνος ἀπ᾿ ἄλλων
στικτῶν ἢ λασίων μετὰ μέτα
θηρῶν, ἔν τ᾿ ὀδύναις ὁμοῦ
λιμῷ τ᾽ οἰκτρός, ἀνήκεστα μεριμνήματ᾽ ἔχων * βάρει. ἔχων βαρεία δ' ἔχων βαρεῖ· βαρεία δ'
185
ὁ δ᾽ ἀθυρόστομος ἀθυρύστομος
ἀχὼ τηλεφανὴς πικρᾶς
οἰμωγᾶς ὑπόκειται.
Οὐδὲν τούτων θαυμαστὸν ἐμοί εμοί·
θεῖα γάρ, εἴπερ κἀγώ τι φρονῶ,
190
καὶ τὰ παθήματα κεῖνα παθήματ᾿ ἐκεῖνα πρὸς αὐτὸν
τῆς ὠμόφρονος Χρύσης χρυσης χρύσης ἐπέβη,
καὶ νῦν ἃ πονεῖ δίχα κηδεμόνων,
οὐκ ἔσθ᾽ *ὡς ὅπως οὐ θεῶν του του μελέτῃ,
τοῦ μὴ πρότερον τόνδ᾽ ἐπὶ Τροίᾳ
195
τεῖναι τὰ θεῶν ἀμάχητα βέλη,
πρὶν ὅδ᾽ ἐξήκοι χρόνος, ᾧ λέγεται ὧιλεται ᾧ λέγεται
χρῆναί χρήν χρῆν χρῆναί σφ᾽ ὑπὸ τῶνδε δαμῆναι.
Εὔστομ᾽ ἔχε, παῖ.
᾿Αλλ᾽ ἔχε, τέκνον,
Greek (F. Storr, 1912) (OCR draft) Experimental (Greek (F. Storr, 1912)) — 135-217 focus
Translations (5)
English (Lewis Campbell, 1906) (OCR draft) Experimental (English (Lewis Campbell, 1906)) — 135 focus
Strange in the stranger land,
135
What shall I speak? What hide
From a heart suspicious of ill?
Tell me, O master mine!
Wise above all is the man,
140
Peerless in searching thought,
Who with the Zeus-given wand
Wieldeth a Heaven-sent power.
This unto thee, dear son,
Fraught with ancestral might,
This to thy life hath come.
Wherefore I bid thee declare,
What must I do for thy need?
Even now methinks thou longest to espy
Near ocean’s marge the place where he doth lie.
Gaze without fear. But when the traveller stern,
Who from this roof is parted, shall return,
Advancing still as I the signal give,
145
To serve each moment’s mission thou shalt strive.
145
That, O my son, from of old
145
Hath been my care, to take note
What by thy beck’ning is told;
Still thy success to promote.
But for our errand to-day
Behoves thee, master, to say
Where is the hearth of his home;
Or where even now doth he roam?
O tell me, lest all unaware
He spring like a wolf from his lair
And I by surprise should be ta’en,
Where doth he move or remain,
Here lodging, or wandering away?
Thou seëst yon double doorway of his cell,
Poor habitation of the rock.
160
Where is the pain-worn wight himself abroad?
To me ’tis clear, that, in his quest for food,
Here, not far off, he trails yon furrowed path.
For, so ’tis told, this mode the sufferer hath
Of sustenance, oh hardness! bringing low
Wild creatures with wing’d arrows from his bow;
Nor findeth healer for his troublous woe.
I feel his misery.
With no companion eye,
Far from all human care,
He pines with fell disease;
Each want he hourly sees
Awakening new despair.
How can he bear it still?
165
O cruel Heavens! O pain
165
Of that afflicted mortal train
165
Whose life sharp sorrows fill!
Born in a princely hall,
Highest, perchance, of all,
Now lies he comfortless
Alone in deep distress,
’Mongst rough and dappled brutes,
With pangs and hunger worn;
While from far distance shoots,
On airy pinion borne,
The unbridled Echo, still replying
To his most bitter crying.
At nought of this I marvel—for if I
Judge rightly, there assailed him from on high
190
That former plague through Chrysa’s cruel sting:
And if to-day he suffer anything
With none to soothe, it must be from the will
Of some great God, so caring to fulfil
The word of prophecy, lest he should bend
195
On Troy the shaft no mortal may forfend,
Before the arrival of Troy’s destined hour,
When she must fall, o’er-mastered by their power.
Hush, my son!
From far it peals. But thou, my son!
German (J. J. C. Donner, 1875; OCR review) (OCR draft) Experimental (German (J. J. C. Donner, 1875; OCR review)) — 135 focus
Was soll ich, Herr, was soll ich, fremd im fremden Land, 1
135
Dem Argwöhnenden bergen oder kundthun?
Sage mir's: denn hoch ragt vor anderer Kunst hervor
Eines Königes Kunst,
Der, klug waltend, Zeus' göttliches Scepter lenkt. 2
Auf dich, Sohn, erbte der ältesten 3
140
Ahnen gesamte Gewalt; so verkünde mir:
Wie soll ich nun dir dienen?
Jezt, weil du vielleicht zu schauen verlangst
Den entlegenen Ort, der jenen verbirgt,
Blick' hin furchtlos: doch wann er erscheint,
145
Der Entsezliche, der in der Kluft hier wohnt, 4
Komni immer sogleich an die Hand mir heran,
Zu jeglichem Dienste gerüstet.
Erste Gegenstrophe.
Du mahnst, o Herr, an Sorgen, die mich längst erfüllt,
Waches Auges zu sein für deinen Vortheil.
150
Aber sage mir nun, welches Haus er einsam bewohnt,
Welcher Ort ihn verbirgt.
Denn wohl thut es noth, daß ich erkundige,
(Sonst fällt er unvermerkt mich an,)
Wo er verweilt und verkehrt und sich lagerte,
155
Ob innen oder draußen.
Hier siehst du sein Haus, dies Felsengemach
Mit doppelter Thür.
Wo weilt denn der Unglückselige selbst?
Ich glaube gewiß, er schleppte sich fort,
160
Auf Nahrung aus, in die Nähe wohin.
Denn diese Gewohnheit pflegt er stets,
So sagt man: mühvoll müht er sich ab,
Mit beschwingtem Geschoß zu erlegen das Wild,
Und nirgend erscheint 5
165
Ihm aus der Bedrängniß ein Retter.
Zweite Strophe.
Innig jammert des Mannes mich,
Den kein menschliches Auge, das
Seiner hütet und wacht, erquickt,
Wie er, ewig allein, ach !
170
Am wildwühlenden Schmerze krankt
Und Noth leidet an Allem, was
Heischt des Lebens Bedarf. Wie nur, o wie trägt es der Arme nur?
Furchtbare Götterhand! 6
Weh, unseliges Staubgeschlecht,
175
Maßlos duldend im Leben!
Zweite Gegenstrophe.
Er, der sicherlich keinem Sohn
Altberühmter Geschlechter weicht,
Er liegt, alles Bedarfs entblößt,
Einsam, ohne Genossen,
180
Wo nur buntes und zottiges
Wild haust, liegt, sich verzehrend in
Schmerz und Hunger, von unheilbaren Grams Sorgen ge=
Von dem geschwäzigen,
Fernhindröhnenden Widerhall quält, und rings
185
Bittern Jammers umlagert.
Mir scheint hier Nichts der Verwunderung werth:
Denn ward mir einige Weisheit auch,
Ist dieses Geschick von den Göttern verhängt,
Brach über ihn ein durch Chryse's Zorn; 7
190
Auch was er, freundlicher Pflege beraubt,
Jezt duldet, geschieht nach der Ewigen Rath,
Daß nicht auf Ilions Veste zu früh
Er spanne des Gott's unbezwinglich Geschoß, 8
Eh nahte die Zeit, da sie diesem erliegt,
195
Wie's ihr nach der Sage verhängt ist.
Dritte Strophe.
Schweige still, mein Sohn!
Denke, Sohn
205
Dritte Gegenstrophe.
English (Thomas Francklin, 1758–1759) (OCR draft) Experimental (English (Thomas Francklin, 1758–1759)) — 135 focus
Neopiolemus.
135
Chok. Master, instruct us, strangers as we are,
135
"What we may utter, what we must conceal.
Doubtless the man we seek \vill entertain
Suspicion of us ; how are we to act ?
To those alone belongs the art to rule
W ho bear the sceptre from the hand of Jove ;
140
To thee of right devolves the power supreme.
From thy great ancestors delivered down \
Speak then, our royal lord, and we obey.
If you would penetrate yon deep recess
Go forward ; but remember to return
When the poor wanderer comes this way, prepared
To aid our purpose here if need require.
O king ! we ever meant to fix our eyes
150
On thee, and wait attentive to thy will ;
But, tell us, in what part is he concealed?
'Tis fit we know the place, lest unobserved
He rush upon us. Which way doth it lie?
155
Seest thou his footsteps leading from the cave,
Or hither bent ?
\advanGing toicards the cave\. Behold the double
door
Of his poor dwelling, and the flinty bed.
160
Alas ! 1 pity him. Without a friend.
Without a fellow-sufferer, left alone,
Deprived of all the mutual joys that flow
From sweet society — distempered too !
How can he bear it ? O unhappy race
170
Of mortal man ! doomed to an endless round
170
Of sorrows, and immeasurable woe !
170
Second to none in fair nobility
170
Yet here he lies, from every human aid
Far off removed, in dreadful solitude,
And mingles with the wild and savage herd ;
With them in famine and in misery
Consumes his days, and weeps their common fate.
Unheeded, save when babbling echo mourns
In bitterest notes responsive to his woe.
And yet I wonder not ; for if aright
I judge, from angry heaven the sentence came,
190
And Chrysa was the cruel source of all ;
Nor doth this sad disease inflict him still
Incurable, without assenting gods ]
For so they have decreed, lest Troy should fall
195
Beneath his arrows ere th' appointed time
Of its destruction come.
No more, my son !
E'en now
I hear it, and the sound as of some step
Slow-moving this way. He is not far from us.
His plaints are louder now. Prepare, my son !
English (Robert Potter, 1788) (OCR draft) Experimental (English (Robert Potter, 1788)) — 135 focus
In a strange land a stranger, potent lord,
What truths must I conceal, what may I speak,
When to our sight this man presents himself?
Instruct me, for in knowledge he excels
All others, and in prudence, who from Jove
Receives the sacred sceptre; all this pow'r
To thee, my son, is from a noble line
Of ancestors derived. Inform me then
What service from my hand is now required.
Now, if thou hast a wish to see the place
Through all its deep recesses where he lies,
With freedom view it; but when he returns,
The painful traveller, quit these caves, be near
My hand, prepared to act as need requires.
Where absent is the wretched dweller now?..
The want of food hath doubtless drawn him forth
To toil with painful step, not distant fari
For he sustains his miserable life
By miserably piercing with his shafts
The beasts that haunt these wilds; nor for his wound
Finds he a cure, or to his pains relief.
I pity him, no mortal's lenient aid
Tending around him, and no social friend
Near him to sooth his solitary hours.
Alone, and with the anguish of his wound
For ever tortured, while each cheerless want
Daily scowls round him, how supports he life?
Alas, to what hard toils are mortal men
Reduced, whose lives, unhappy sufferers, want
What to sustain them! So this man, perchance
In noble blood and high-traced ancestry
Rank'd with the greatest, destitute of all
That life requires, alone 'midst shaggy beasts
And birds of various wing his lodging finds;
And pierced with pain and hunger here endures
Immedicable anguish, whilst around
The rock's rude Echo with unceasing voice
In sullen notes returns his dismal groans.
The voice of one acquainted long with pain.
English (Sir Richard Jebb, 1904) (OCR draft) Experimental (English (Sir Richard Jebb, 1904)) — 135-215 focus