Sir Richard C. Jebb Commentary on Sophocles: Philoctetes 7

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)) — 865 focus
σιγᾶν κελεύω, μηδ' ἀφεστάναι φρενῶν.
865
κινεῖ γὰρ ἁνὴρ ἀνὴρ ὄμμα κἀνάγει κάρα.
ἔσται τάδ'· ἀλλ᾽ ἵστω τε καὐτὸς ἀντέχου.
ὦ πῦρ σὺ καὶ πᾶν δεῖμα δημα δεῖμα καὶ πανουργίας

ΣΟΦΟΚΛΕΟΥΣ

δεινῆς τέχνημ᾽ ἔχθιστον, οἷά μ' εἰργάσω (εἰρ)γάσω,
οἷ᾽ ἠπάτηκας· οὐδ᾽ ἐπαισχύνει μ᾽ ὁρῶν
τὸν προστρόπαιον, τὸν ἱκέτην, ὦ σχέτλιε;
930
ἀπεστέρηκας τὸν βίον τὰ τόξ᾽ ἑλών.
ἀπόδος, ἱκνοῦμαί σ᾽ ἱκνοῦμ᾽, ἀπόδος, ἱκετεύω, τέκνον.
πρὸς θεῶν πατρῴων, τὸν βίον με μἀφέλῃς μή μ' ἀφέλῃς μή μου 'φέλησ μ᾿ ἀφέλης.
ὤμοι τάλας, ἀλλ᾽ οὐδὲ προσφωνεῖ προφωνεῖ προσφωνεῖν μ᾽. μ᾽ ἔτι,
ἀλλ᾽ ὡς μεθήσων μήποθ', ὧδ᾽ ὁρᾷ πάλιν.
935
ὦ λιμένες, ὦ προβλῆτες, ὦ ξυνουσίαι
θηρῶν ὀρείων, ὦ καταρρώγες πέτραι,
ὑμῖν τάδ', οὐ γὰρ ἄλλον οἶδ᾽ ὅτῳ λέγω,
ἀνακλαίομαι παροῦσι τοῖς εἰωθόσιν,
οἷ᾽ ἔργ᾽ ὁ παῖς μ' ἔδρασεν οὐξ ᾿Αχιλλέως·
940
τί δρῶμεν; ἐν σοὶ καὶ τὸ πλεῖν ἡμᾶς, ἄναξ,
ἤδη ἐστὶ καὶ τοῖς τοῦδε προσχωρεῖν λόγοις.
ὦ χεῖρες, οἷα πάσχετ᾽ ἐν χρείᾳ φίλης
νευρᾶς, ὑπ᾿ ἀνδρὸς τοῦδε συνθηρώμεναι.
1005

ΦΙΛΟΚΤΗΤΗΣ.

ὦ μηδὲν ὑγιὲς μηδ᾽ ἐλεύθερον φρονῶν,
οἷ᾽ αὖ οἷα διά οῖμ' ἀπῆλθες οἴως μ᾽ ὑπῆλθες, ὥς μ᾽ ἐθηράσω, λαβὼν
πρόβλημα σαυτοῦ παῖδα τόνδ᾽ ἀγνῶτ᾽ ἐμοί,
ἀνάξιον μὲν σοῦ, κατάξιον δ᾽ ἐμοῦ,
ὃς οὐδὲν ἤδη πλὴν τὸ προσταχθὲν ποιεῖν ποεῖν ποιεῖν·
1010
δῆλος δὲ καὶ νῦν ἐστιν ἐστὶν ἐστιν ἀλγεινῶς φέρων
οἷς τ᾿ αὐτὸς ἐξήμαρτεν οἷς τ᾽ ἐγὼ ἔπαθον.
ἀλλ᾽ ἡ κακὴ σὴ διὰ μυχῶν βλέπουσ᾽ ἀεὶ
ψυχή νιν ἀφυῆ τ᾿ ὄντα κοὐ θέλονθ᾽ θέλον θ' θέλων θ' θέλονθ' ὅμως
εὖ προὐδίδαξεν ἐν κακοῖς εἶναι σοφόν.
1015
καὶ νῦν ἔμ᾽, ὦ δύστηνε, συνδήσας νοεῖς
ἄγειν ἀπ᾿ ἀκτῆς τῆσδ', ἐν ᾗ με προὐβάλου
ἄφιλον ἔρημον ἄπολιν, ἐν ζῶσιν νεκρόν.
βαρύς τε καὶ βαρεῖαν ὁ ξένος φάτιν
1045
τήνδ᾽ εἶπ᾽, ᾿Ὀδυσσεῦ, κοὐχ ὑπείκουσαν ει from η ὑπείκουσαν κακοῖς.
Greek (F. Storr, 1912) (OCR draft) Experimental (Greek (F. Storr, 1912)) — 865-1080 focus
Translations (5)
English (Lewis Campbell, 1906) (OCR draft) Experimental (English (Lewis Campbell, 1906)) — 865 focus
Hush! One word more were madness. He revives.
865
His eye hath motion. He uplifts his head.
I will; stand up, endure!
O thou fire,
Thou terror of the world! Dark instrument
Of ever-hateful guile!—What hast thou done?
How thou hast cheated me! Art not ashamed
To look on him that sued to thee for shelter?
930
O heart of stone, thou hast stolen my life away
With yonder bow!—Ah, yet I beg of thee,
Give it me back, my son, I entreat thee, give!
By all thy father worshipped, rob me not
Of life!—Ah me! Now he will speak no more,
But turns away, obdúrate to retain it.
935
O ye, my comrades in this wilderness,
Rude creatures of the rocks, O promontories,
Creeks, precipices of the hills, to you
And your familiar presence I complain
Of this foul trespass of Achilles’ son.
Sworn to convey me home, to Troy he bears me.
940
And under pledge of his right hand hath ta’en
And holds from me perforce my wondrous bow,
The sacred gift of Zeus-born Heracles,
Thinking to wave it midst the Achaean host
Triumphantly for his. In conquering me
945
He vaunts as of some valorous feat, and knows not
945
He is spoiling a mere corse, an empty dream,
The shadow of a vapour. In my strength
He ne’er had vanquished me. Even as I am,
He could not, but by guile. Now, all forlorn,
I am abused, deceived. What must I do?
950
Nay, give it me. Nay, yet be thy true self!
Thou art silent. I am lost. O misery!
Rude face of rock, back I return to thee
And thy twin gateway, robbed of arms and food,
To wither in thy cave companionless:—
No more with these mine arrows to destroy
955
Or flying bird or mountain-roving beast.
But, all unhappy! I myself must be
The feast of those on whom I fed, the chase
Of that I hunted, and shall dearly pay
In bloody quittance for their death, through one
Who seemed all ignorant of sinful guile.
960
Perish,—not till I am certain if thy heart
Will change once more,—if not, my curse on thee!
What shall we do, my lord? We wait thy word
Or to sail now, or yield to his desire.
Poor hands, for lack of your beloved string,
Caught by this craven! O corrupted soul!
How thou hast undermined me, having taken
1005
To screen thy quest this youth to me unknown,
Far worthier of my friendship than of thine,
Who knew no better than to obey command.
Even now ’tis manifest he burns within
With pain for his own error and my wrong.
1010
But, though unwilling and mapt for ill,
Thy crafty, mean, and cranny spying soul
Too well hath lessoned him in sinful lore.
Now thou hast bound me, O thou wretch, and thinkest
To take me from this coast, where thou didst cast me
1015
Outlawed and desolate, a corpse ’mongst men.
Oh!
I curse thee now, as ofttimes in the past:
But since Heaven yields me nought but bitterness,
Thou livest and art blithe, while ’tis my pain
To live on in my misery, laughed to scorn
1020
By thee and Atreus’ sons, those generals twain
Whom thou art serving in this chase. But thou
With strong compulsion and deceit was driven
Troyward, whilst I, poor victim, of free will
Took my seven ships and sailed there, yet was thrown
1025
Far from all honour,—as thou sayest, by them,
But, as they turn the tale, by thee.—And now
Why fetch me hence and take me? To what end?
I am nothing, dead to you this many a year.
How, O thou Heaven-abhorred! am I not now
1030
Lame and of evil smell? how shall ye vaunt
Before the gods drink-offering or the fat
Of victims, if I sail among your crew?
For this, as ye professed, was the chief cause
Why ye disowned me. Perish!—So ye shall,
1035
For the wrong done me, if the Heavens be just.
And that they are, I know. Else had ye ne’er
Sailed on this errand for an outcast wretch,
Had they not pricked your heart with thoughts of me.
Oh, if ye pity me, chastising powers,
1040
And thou, the Genius of my land, revenge,
Revenge this crime on all their heads at once!
My life is pitiable; but if I saw
Their ruin, I would think me well and strong.
How full of bitterness is his resolve,
1045
Wrathfully spoken with unbending will!
German (J. J. C. Donner, 1875; OCR review) (OCR draft) Experimental (German (J. J. C. Donner, 1875; OCR review)) — 865 focus
Nun schweiget, sag' ich, seid gefaßt und unverzagt!
835
Der Mann bewegt die Augen und erhebt das Haupt.
(erwachend)
So sei es: doch nun stehe selbst und halte dich.
(sich aufrichtend)
Du Feuerbrand, du Grauen, du feindseliges
Gewebe falscher Trügerei, wie thust du mir,
Wie hast du mich betrogen, und erröthest nicht,
Mich Schuzbefohl'nen, Fleh'nden anzuseh'n, o Schalk?
900
Den Bogen raubend, raubtest du mein Leben mir.
Ach gib, ich flehe, gib mir ihn zurück, o Kind;
Bei deiner Ahnen Göttern, nimm mein Leben nicht!
Weh, wehe! Nicht mit einem Laut entgegnet er:
Nein, wie ihn nie zu lassen, blickt der Arge weg.
905
Ihr Buchten dort, ihr schroffen Felsabhänge, du
Bergwild, Genosse meines Grams, ihr Klippen hier,
Euch klag' ich keinem Andern ja vermag ich es,
Ihr seid zugegen, hört mich stets in meinem Leid
Euch klag' ich, euch, was mir Achilleus' Sohn gethan:
910
Führt mich nach Troja, der mich heimzuführen schwur,
Gibt mir die Hand zum Pfande, raubt das heilige
Geschoß, Herakles' Bogen, mir, des Sohns von Zeus,
Und will zur Schau mich stellen vor Achäa's Heer!
Wie einen Starken führt er mit Gewalt mich fort,
915
Nicht ahnend, daß er Luftgebild' und Leiche schlägt,
Des Rauches Schatten. Hätt' ich Kraft, er sing mich nie;
Denn auch den Kraftberaubten fing er nur mit List.
Nun - so betrogen, was beginn' ich Armer nun?
Gib mir zurück ihn, werde wieder, der du warst!
920
Was ist's? Du schweigst. Ich bin vernichtet, wehe mir!
Du Fels mit deinem Doppelthor, ich schleiche nun
Nackt, ohne Nahrung, wiederum zu dir zurück;
Einsam verschmachten werd' ich hier in dieser Kluft,
Und kein beschwingter Vogel noch des Berges Wild
925
Erliegt von diesen Pfeilen mehr; selbst werd' ich todt
Ein Mahl für jene, deren Fleisch mich sättigte,
Und, die zuvor ich jagte, jagen nun mich selbst.
Mit meinem Tode büß' ich Armer ihren Tod
Durch diesen, der kein Böses mir zu kennen schien.
930
Noch lebe, stirb nicht, eh' ich weiß, ob etwa noch
Dein Sinn sich wendet; anders stirb des Bösen Tod!
Was thun wir? Nun steht's, Herr, bei dir, mit uns an Bord
Zu gehen oder seinem Wunsch gerecht zu sein.
Hände, was erduldet ihr, die nun, beraubt
Der trauten Sehne, dieser Mann gebunden hält!
975
Du, welcher nie das Reine, nie das Edle denkt,
Wie hast du mich beschlichen, wie gefangen und
Den Knaben vorgeschoben, der mir unbekannt,
Unwürdig deiner, aber mein wohl würdig war,
Der Nichts gewußt hat, als zu thun, was du befahlst,
980
Der aber jezt schon offenbar mit Schmerzen fühlt,
Was er verschuldet, und das Leid, das ich erfuhr.
Dein böser Sinn nur, welcher stets im Winkel lauscht,
Hat ihn, den arglos Blöden, Widerstrebenden
Wohl unterwiesen, klug zu sein in arger List.
985
Nun denkst du mich gebunden weg von diesem Strand
Zu führen, Frevler, wo du mich einst ausgesezt
Freundlos, verlassen, fern von Haus, im Leben todt!
Weh!
Tod dir! Ich flehte dieses oft auf dich herab;
Doch nichts Erwünschtes theilen mir die Götter zu;
990
Du lebst in Freuden, aber ich empfinde Schmerz
Darüber, daß ich lebe, leb' in schwerer Dual,
Von dir verspottet und den zwei Heerfürsten dort,
Den Söhnen Atreus', welchen du dies Werk bestellst.
Du wurdest gleichwohl mitzuzieh'n durch Zwang und List 2
995
Genöthigt; mich Verlor'nen, der freiwillig zog
Mit sieben Masten, warfen sie mit Schmach hinaus, 3
Wie du behauptest; jene geben dir die Schuld.
Und nun wozu, was bindet, was entführt ihr mich,
Mich, der ein Nichts ist und für euch schon lange todt?
1000
Was hältst du, Gottverhaßter, nun mich nicht für lahm,
Für übelriechend? Wie, von mir begleitet, könnt
Ihr noch den Göttern opfern, wie noch Spenden weih'n?
Mich auszustoßen, hast du dies ja vorgewandt.
Tod euch! ja, Tod wird treffen euch, die so verrucht
1005
An mir gefrevelt, wenn das Recht vor Göttern gilt.
Ich weiß, es gilt vor ihnen; niemals wärt ihr ja
Den Weg gezogen nach dem Unglückseligen,
Wenn nicht ein Götterstachel euch hertrieb zu mir.
O Vatererde, Götter, ihr allsehenden,
1010
So strafet endlich, endlich doch, o strafet sie,
Sie alle, wenn ihr meiner euch erbarmen wollt!
Wohl leb' ich elend; aber säh' ich diese nur
Vernichtet, glaubt' ich meiner Qual entfloh'n zu sein.
In schwerem Zorne sprach der Mann ein schweres Wort
1015
Zu dir, Odysseus, das der Noth sich nicht gebeugt.
English (Thomas Francklin, 1758–1759) (OCR draft) Experimental (English (Thomas Francklin, 1758–1759)) — 865 focus
[aioaking]. 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 Atridse 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'll try to rise ; this weakness
Will leave me soon, and then we'll go together.
Well, be it so ; but rise.
Thou worst of men, thou vile artificer
Of fraud most infamous, what hast thou done ?
How have I been deceived? Dost thou not bhish
To look upon me, to behold me thus
Beneath thy feet imploring? Base betrayer !
930
To rob me of my bow, the means of hfe,
The only means — give 'em, restore 'em to me !
Do not take all ! Alas ! he hears me not,
Kor deigns to speak, but casts an angry look
That says I never shall be free again.
O mountains, rivers, rocks, and savage herds !
935
To you I speak — to you alone I now
Must breathe my sorrows ; you are wont to hear.
My sad complaints, and I will tell you all
That I have suffered from Achilles' son,
Who, bound by solemn oath to bear me hence
To my dear native soil, now sails for Troy.
940
The perjured wretch lii-st gave his plighted hand,
Then stole the sacred arrows of my friend,
The son of Jove, the great Alcides ; those
He means to show the Greeks, to snatch me hence
This empty shade, were worthy of his arm.
945
Had I been what I was, he ne'er had thus
945
Subdued me, and e'en now to fraud alone
He owes the conquest . I have been betiuyed !
Give me my arms again, and be thyself
Once more. Oh, speak ! Thou wilt not? Then I'm lost.
O my poor hut ! again I come to thee
950
Naked and destitute of food ; once more
Receive me, here to die ; for now, no longer
Shall my swift arrow reach the flying prey,
Or on the mountains pierce the wandering herd ;
1 shall myself afford a banquet now
To those I used to feed on — they the hunters.
955
And I their easy prey ; so shall the blood
Which I so oft have shed be paid by mine ;
And all this too fron him whom once I deemed
Stranger to fraud nor capable of ill ;
And yet I will not curse thee till I know
Whether thou still retainst thy horrid purpose,
960
Or dost repent thee of it ; if thou dost not,
Destruction wait thee !
We attend your pleasure,
iNIy royal lord, we must be gone ; determine
To leave, or take him with us.
Manacled ! O hands !
How helpless are you now ! those arms, which once
Protected, thus torn from you ! [To Ulys«es.
1005
Thou abandoned,
Thou shameless wretch ! from whom nor truth nor
justice,
Naught that becomes the generous mind, can flow,
How hast thou used me ! how betrayed ! Suborned
This stranger, this poor youth, who, worthier far
1010
To be my friend than thine, was only here
Thy instrument ; he knew not what he did,
And now, thou seest, repents him of the crime
Which brought such guilt on him, such woes on me.
But thy foul soul, which from its dai-k recess
Trembling looks forth, beheld him void of art,
1015
Unwilling as he wms, instructed him.
And made him soon a master in deceit.
I am thy prisoner now ; e'en now thou meanst
To drag me hence, from this unhappy shore.
Where first thy malice left me, a poor exile,
Deserted, fiiendless, and though living, dead
To all mankind. Perish the vile betrayer !
1020
Oh ! I have cursed thee often, but the gods
Life and its joys are thine, whilst I, unhapjiy,
Am but the scorn of thee, and the Atiidie,
Thy haughty masters. Fraud and force compelled
thee.
Or thou hadst never sailed with them to Troy.
1025
I lent my willing aid ; with seven brave ships
I ploughed the main to serve them. In return
They cast me forth, disgraced me, left me here.
Thou sayst they did it ; they impute the crime
To thee. And what will you do with me now ?
And whither must I go ? What end, what purpose
1030
Could urge thee to it ? I am nothing, lost
And dead already. Wherefore — tell me, wherefore ?-
Am I not still the same detested burthen.
Disturb your holy rites ? If I am with you
How can you make libations ? That was once
Your vile j^retence for inhumanity.
1035
Oh ! may you perish for the deed ! The gods
Will grant it sure, if justice be their care —
And that it is I know. You had not left
Your native soil to seek a wretch like me
Had not some impulse from the powers above.
Spite of yourselves, ordained it. O my country !
1040
And you, O gods ! who look upon this deed,
Punish, in pity to me, punish all
The guilty band ! Could I behold them perish,
My wounds were nothing ; that would heal them all.
\to UlyssesJ. Observe, my lord, what bitterness
1045
of soul
1045
His words express ; he bends not to misfortune,
But seems to brave it.
English (Robert Potter, 1788) (OCR draft) Experimental (English (Robert Potter, 1788)) — 865 focus
Be silent, I command thee; of such thoughts
865
No more: he moves his eyes, and lifts his head.
Of that no more; but raise thee, grasp my hand.
Thou wasting fire, thou every thing to sense
Most hideous, thou detested instrument
Of horrid villainy, what hast thou done?
How hast thou wrong'd me? How deceived me? Wretch,
Dost thou not blush to see me at thy knees
930
A suppliant? Thou hast robb'd me of my life,
Taking my bow. I pray thee give it back,
Restore it, I implore thee, O my son;
Ah, take not, by the gods that guard thy hearth,
Take not what yields my life support, away!
Unhappy me! He speaks not yet, but looks
935
As he would never part with it again.
935
Ye ports, ye cliffs projecting o'er the waves,
Ye herds of mountain-beasts, yecraggy rocks,
To you (none other have I to address)
To you, who oft have heard me, I complain
Of these my wrongs. He swore to me, this youth,
Son of Achilles, swore to bear me home;
940
To Troy he bears me: pledging his right hand
He took the sacred bow of Hercules,
And now detains it. To the Grecian host
Vaunting his prowess, as some manly might
He had subdued, he drags me hence by force;
Nor knows he that his conquest is obtain'd
945
O'er one long dead, the shadow of a smoke,
A flitting phantom. Had these nerves the strength
Which once they had, he would not triumph now;
Nor but by fraud this conquest hath he gain'd.
With falsehoods, wretched me! I am betray'd';
What can I do?... But give me back my bow;
950
Be thou again thyself. What dost thou say??
Still art thou silent? Ah, I am undone!..
Thou double opening of my rock, again
I enter thee, but of my arms deprived,
The means of my subsistence, in thy cave
To waste away alone, nor winged bird
955
Nor mountain-beast with these my shafts to pierce,
955
But 'midst my woes to die, to be a feast
To those on whom I feasted, and a prey
To those on whom I prey'd, and recompense
Slaughter with slaughter: thus am I betray'd
By one, whose heart, I thought, ne'er harbour'd ill.
I will not curse thee yet, till I shall learn
960
If honour once more may thy purpose change:
If not, may ruin seize thee and base death!
What thy commands? It now is thine, O king,
To speed thy sails, assenting to his words..
Alas, ye hands, deprived of your loved bow,
What vile indignity do you sustain !
O thou, whose soul ne'er harbour'd generous thought,
Or upright purpose, how hast thou beguiled,
With what base arts ensnared me in thy toils,
1005
Skulking behind this youth to me unknown,
1005
Not meriting to share thy fraudful guilt,
1005
But worthy of my love! He nothing knew,
He but performs his orders: see his brow
Clouded with grief for what he has misdone,
And I have suffer'd. But thy treacherous soul,
For ever peeping from its lurking-place,
Hath taught his noble nature 'gainst his will.
To be expert in mischief; and, thou wretch,
My hands thus bound, thy purpose is declared
To drag me from this shore, on which long since
Thou didst expose me with unpitying heart
Friendless, abandon'd, out-cast, whilst alive
Rank'd with the dead. Perdition seize thee ! Oft
Have I made this my pray'r; but to my pray'rs
1010
The gods grant nothing that delights my soul.
1010
To live is thine, and to exult; with grief
1010
My heart is rent, that 'midst my various ills
I am by thee derided, and the Chiefs
The sons of Atreus, who command these things,
And thou art to their lordly will a slave.
Yet didst thou join their arms compell'd by force,
Thy wiles detected. Me, unhappy me,
The willing leader of sev'n gallant ships,
They with disgrace cast out; the guilty deed
Thou on their baseness chargest, they on thine.
Why lead me now away? Why drag me hence ?
What cause impels you? I am nothing now,
To you for ten long years I have been dead.
Base and detested wretch, is not my foot
1015
Now lame? Is not its stench offensive now?.
1015
How, if I mount the bark, will you present
1015
Your victims, your libations to the gods?....
This was thy plea to leave me on these rocks!
An out-cast. May the vengeance of the gods
Pour ruin on you all who wrong'd this wretch,
If justice rules their thoughts; it does, it does,
I know it well; for never had your sails ::
Stretch'd o'er the ocean for a wretch like me,
But that remorse, heav'n-sent, hath pierced your hearts.
But, O my country, O ye gods who view
Fierce is his passion and his words are fierce ;
1045
He hath a soul that yields not to his woes.
He is our lord, our galley he commands;
To thee whate'er he says, the same we say .T
English (Sir Richard Jebb, 1904) (OCR draft) Experimental (English (Sir Richard Jebb, 1904)) — 865-1080 focus