§157τίς τόπος ἢ τίς ἕδρα;
What is the place, or what is his dwelling?
τίνʼ ἔχει στίβον, §158ἔναυλον ἢ θυραῖον;
What path does he keep, inside the cave or outside?
Neoptolemus: You see here this dwelling with a double entrance, a stony bed.
§161ποῦ γὰρ ὁ τλήμων αὐτὸς ἄπεστιν;
Chorus: But where is the wretched man himself absent?
Neoptolemus: It is clear to me that, through need of food, he is dragging his path somewhere near here.
§164ταύτην γὰρ ἔχειν βιοτῆς αὐτὸν §165λόγος ἐστὶ φύσιν, θηροβολοῦντα §166πτηνοῖς ἰοῖς στυγερὸν στυγερῶς, §167οὐδέ τινʼ αὐτῷ §168παιῶνα κακῶν ἐπινωμᾶν.
For the report is that he has this manner of life, shooting wild beasts wretchedly in a wretched way with winged arrows, and that no one brings to him any healer for his ills.
§169οἰκτίρω νιν ἔγωγʼ, ὅπως, §170μή του κηδομένου βροτῶν §171μηδὲ ξύντροφον ὄμμʼ ἔχων, §172δύστανος, μόνος ἀεί, §173νοσεῖ μὲν νόσον ἀγρίαν, §174ἀλύει δʼ ἐπὶ παντί τῳ §175χρείας ἱσταμένῳ.
Chorus: I pity him indeed, thinking how, with no mortal caring for him, and having no companion's eye near, wretched, always alone, he suffers from a wild disease, and is driven wild at every need that arises.
πῶς ποτε πῶς δύσμορος ἀντέχει;
How, oh how, does the ill-fated man hold out?
§176ὦ παλάμαι θεῶν,
Oh, designs of the gods!
Oh, wretched races of mortals, for whom life is not measured in moderation!
§180οὗτος πρωτογόνων ἴσως §181οἴκων οὐδενὸς ὕστερος, §182πάντων ἄμμορος ἐν βίῳ §183κεῖται μοῦνος ἀπʼ ἄλλων, §184στικτῶν ἢ λασίων μετὰ §185θηρῶν, ἔν τʼ ὀδύναις ὁμοῦ §186λιμῷ τʼ οἰκτρός, ἀνήκεστα μεριμνήματʼ ἔχων· ὀρεί- §187α δʼ ἀθυρόστομος §188Ἀχὼ τηλεφανὴς πικραῖς §190οἰμωγαῖς ὑπακούει.
This man, perhaps inferior to none of the ancient noble houses, deprived of all things in life, lies alone, apart from others, among spotted or shaggy wild beasts, and pitiable alike in pains and hunger, bearing incurable cares; and mountain Echo, babbling with unbridled mouth, sounding from afar, responds to his bitter lamentations.
§191οὐδὲν τούτων θαυμαστὸν ἐμοί·
Neoptolemus: None of these things is a wonder to me.
§192θεῖα γάρ, εἴπερ κἀγώ τι φρονῶ, §193καὶ τὰ παθήματα κεῖνα πρὸς αὐτὸν §194τῆς ὠμόφρονος Χρύσης ἐπέβη, §195καὶ νῦν ἃ πονεῖ δίχα κηδεμόνων, §196οὐκ ἔσθʼ ὡς οὐ θεῶν του μελέτῃ §197τοῦ μὴ πρότερον τόνδʼ ἐπὶ Τροίᾳ §198τεῖναι τὰ θεῶν ἀμάχητα βέλη, §199πρὶν ὅδʼ ἐξήκοι χρόνος, ᾧ λέγεται §200χρῆναί σφʼ ὑπὸ τῶνδε δαμῆναι.
For by divine will, if indeed I have any understanding, those sufferings also came upon him from the cruel-minded Chryse, and what he suffers now without caretakers cannot but be by the care of some god, so that he might not stretch against Troy those invincible weapons of the gods, before this time should arrive, in which it is said that Troy must be subdued by them.
§201εὔστομʼ ἔχε, παῖ.
Chorus: Keep silence, my child.
§201aτί τόδε;
Neoptolemus: What is this?
Chorus: A sound has appeared, as of some man worn out with pain, somewhere here or there in this place.
§205βάλλει βάλλει μʼ ἐτύμα §206φθογγά του στίβον κατʼ ἀνάγκαν §207ἕρποντος, οὐδέ με λάθει §208βαρεῖα τηλόθεν αὐδὰ τρυσάνωρ· διάσημα γὰρ θρηνεῖ.
There strikes, there truly strikes me the voice of someone creeping along out of necessity, nor does it escape me, that heavy, man-wearying voice from afar; for its lament is distinct.
§212φροντίδας νέας.
Chorus: New thoughts.
§213ὡς οὐκ ἔξεδρος, ἀλλʼ ἔντοπος ἁνήρ, §214οὐ μολπὰν σύριγγος ἔχων, §215ὡς ποιμὴν ἀγροβότας, ἀλλʼ ἤ που πταίων ὑπʼ ἀνάγκας §216βοᾷ τηλωπὸν ἰωάν, §217ἢ ναὸς ἄξενον αὐγάζων ὅρμον· προβοᾷ τι γὰρ δεινόν.
For the man is not away from home, but nearby, not playing the music of a pipe, like a shepherd in the pasture, but perhaps stumbling from necessity he cries out a far-sounding shout, or as he looks upon the inhospitable anchorage of a ship; for he bellows something terrible.
§219ἰὼ ξένοι, §220τίνες ποτʼ ἐς γῆν τήνδε κἀκ ποίας πάτρας §221κατέσχετʼ οὔτʼ εὔορμον οὔτʼ οἰκουμένην;
Philoctetes: Oh, strangers, who are you who have put in to this land, and from what country, which is neither good for anchorage nor inhabited?
Of what country or race might I call you?
σχῆμα μὲν γὰρ Ἑλλάδος §224στολῆς ὑπάρχει προσφιλεστάτης ἐμοί· §225φωνῆς δʼ ἀκοῦσαι βούλομαι· καὶ μή μʼ ὄκνῳ §226δείσαντες ἐκπλαγῆτʼ ἀπηγριωμένον, §227ἀλλʼ οἰκτίσαντες ἄνδρα δύστηνον, μόνον, §228ἔρημον ὧδε κἄφιλον κακούμενον, §229φωνήσατʼ, εἴπερ ὡς φίλοι προσήκετε.
For the fashion of your dress is Greek, which is dearest to me; and I wish to hear your voice; and do not shrink with fear, startled by my wild appearance, but pitying a wretched man, alone, desolate and friendless in his affliction, speak to me, if indeed you have come as friends.
But answer me; for it is not fitting either for me to fail of this from you, nor for you to fail of it from me.
Neoptolemus: But, stranger, know this first, that we are Greeks; for this you wish to learn.
§234ὦ φίλτατον φώνημα·
Philoctetes: Oh, dearest sound!
φεῦ τὸ καὶ λαβεῖν §235πρόσφθεγμα τοιοῦδʼ ἀνδρὸς ἐν χρόνῳ μακρῷ.
Alas, that I should even receive a greeting from such a man after so long a time.
What need, my child, has put you in, what has brought you hither?
τίς ὁρμή;
What impulse?
τίς ἀνέμων ὁ φίλτατος;
What dearest of winds?
§238γέγωνέ μοι πᾶν τοῦθʼ, ὅπως εἰδῶ τίς εἶ.
Tell me all this aloud, so that I may know who you are.
§239ἐγὼ γένος μέν εἰμι τῆς περιρρύτου §240Σκύρου· πλέω δʼ ἐς οἶκον· αὐδῶμαι δὲ παῖς §241Ἀχιλλέως, Νεοπτόλεμος.
Neoptolemus: As for my race, I am from sea-girt Scyros; and I am sailing home; and I am called the son of Achilles, Neoptolemus.
οἶσθα δὴ τὸ πᾶν.
Now you know all.
§242ὦ φιλτάτου παῖ πατρός, ὦ φίλης χθονός, §243ὦ τοῦ γέροντος θρέμμα Λυκομήδους, τίνι §244στόλῳ προσέσχες τήνδε γῆν πόθεν πλέων;
Philoctetes: Oh, child of a dearest father, of a dear land, oh, foster-child of old Lycomedes, with what fleet did you put in to this land, sailing from where?
§245ἐξ Ἰλίου τοι δὴ τανῦν γε ναυστολῶ.
Neoptolemus: From Ilium indeed I am sailing now.
§246πῶς εἶπας;
Philoctetes: How did you say?
οὐ γὰρ δὴ σύ γʼ ἦσθα ναυβάτης §247ἡμῖν κατʼ ἀρχὴν τοῦ πρὸς Ἴλιον στόλου.
For surely you were not a shipmate with us at the beginning of the voyage to Ilium.
§248ἦ γὰρ μετέσχες καὶ σὺ τοῦδε τοῦ πόνου;
Neoptolemus: Did you then also take part in that labor?
§249ὦ τέκνον, οὐ γὰρ οἶσθά μʼ ὅντινʼ εἰσορᾷς;
Philoctetes: Oh, my child, do you indeed not know whom you are looking upon?
§250πῶς γὰρ κάτοιδʼ ὅν γʼ εἶδον οὐδεπώποτε;
Neoptolemus: For how can I know him whom I have never seen before?
Philoctetes: Then have you heard neither my name nor any fame of my ills, by which I was being destroyed?
§253ὡς μηδὲν εἰδότʼ ἴσθι μʼ ὧν ἀνιστορεῖς.
Neoptolemus: Know me as knowing nothing of what you ask.