Sophocles' PHILOCTETES Complete

Translated by Th. Francklin.

Sophocles Bilingual Anthology  Studies  Sophocles in Print

82 Pages

Page 44

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.

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