Philoktetes was performed four years after the defeat of the Greek fleet at Syracuse, and two years after the first oligarchic coup in 411 BCE. Democracy was restored the following year, but the ongoing stasis (i.e., a ‘standing’ apart or against, a state of civil strife) portended the end of the Athenian empire. This was five years before the absolute end, when the walls of Athens were razed and an oligarchic constitution was installed under the dunasteia—the ‘collective tyranny’ or junta—of the Thirty Tyrants in 404–403 BCE. Given the protracted turmoil of the times, it would seem Herakles speaks as much to the Athenian audience as to Philoktetes. Reaching deeper than the factionalism that was surely rife in Athens, Herakles delivers the final word on what is right, what is holy, what Zeus ordains. He tells Philoktetes what is required of him, predicting his cure and his success at Troy. Yet ‘success’ isn’t everything. Just as significantly, Herakles goes on to demonstrate the proper attitude Philoktetes must have in victory: “You will sack Troy and be honored / with the choicest spoils. Bring these / home with you to the Oitan highlands / to please your father, Poias. The other / spoils such as common soldiers get / lay on my funeral pyre: as a tribute / to my bow” (1615–1621). Herakles, the most illustrious of warriors, lines himself up with ordinary soldiers, setting aside his own aristocratic, heroic prerogative. How could Philoktetes do less?
What then of Neoptolemos, whom we witness coming of age—an ambitious, righteous, initially callow youth mellowed by Philoktetes and growing into a morally conscient, yet no less ambitious, maturity? Herakles has words for him as well. He doesn’t name Neoptolemos—technically, he’s still addressing Philoktetes—but the Greek audience would have known to whom the words referred: “Yet remember, when / you sack Troy show piety toward all things / relating to the gods. To Zeus, nothing / matters more. The sacred doesn’t die / when men do. Whether they live or die, / holiness endures” (1631–36). Some values are sacralized: they transcend the moment, outlasting factions and parties. Yet even as Herakles makes this pronouncement, the audience knows that the youth we’ve watched growing fitfully into a decent, feeling man will become notorious for his savagery at the conquest of Troy—among other atrocities, killing old Priam, whom his own father Achilles had spared, at the altar of Zeus. Is nothing, then, to be sacred? Sophocles’ vision toward the end of his long life, very nearly at the end of the Athenian empire, is not for the faint of heart.
—JS
NOTES
1. A view close to that of Sophocles—because its baseline is not one stratum of a stratified polity, but the whole of the polity, however internally stratified that whole may be—is articulated by Enzo Siciliano in remarks on the poet Pier Paolo Pasolini: “The [young] Pasolini already had clearly in mind the idea that it is lethal in a collectivity to break, cast aside or forget historical continuity to the point of denying it—and history is a synthesis of languages, customs and usages. The ideal of action, in such a poet, was directed, then, toward the defense of that ‘continuity,’ that ‘historicity.’ ” In Aias as well as in Philoktetes, Sophocles assumes a comparably deep commitment to ‘historicity.’
Given how “fragile and fractious” Athens became, especially from 461 BCE on, though plays “might be matchless in their honesty, with their forensic analysis of the extremes of the human condition, their investigation of human flaws . . . [they were also] where you came to process information, to learn to form an opinion of the world around you, and love your polis. . . . The experience of theater was meant to be one that reaffirmed Athens’ [once] robust sense of dêmos-solidarity” (Hughes, 214–215, 262).
2. Philoktetes’ refusal of salvation evokes depictions of a miserably risen Lazarus, or Donatello’s rendering of Christ’s Resurrection (in San Lorenzo, Florence). The comparison is not of individuals, certainly, but of their outlooks. The Resurrection is by definition a glorious event, yet Donatello shows the just-risen Christ drastically aged and stooped, clinging to his staff at the edge of his tomb as—melancholy beyond belief—he looks out onto the world: he had to come back to this? Not a rational response to his salvation, yet it does make sense. As does Philoktetes’ tenacious refusal of an offer that, on the face of it, he should not be able to refuse. When Philoktetes does come round he does so spontaneously—not in the name of success, nor of a cure (he reasons nothing out), but responding instinctively to a vision and a ‘call’ of such scale and cultural depth it is irresistible.
Philoktetes
Translated by James Scully
CHARACTERS
ODYSSEUS
NEOPTOLEMOS
CHORUS, sailors under the command of Neoptolemos
LEADER of the Chorus
PHILOKTETES
MERCHANT, agent sent by Odysseus
Sailors under the command of Odysseus
HERAKLES
Cliff on the desolate island of Lemnos. Ocean below. Occasional glowing above Mosychlos, a distant volcano. ODYSSEUS appears, followed by NEOPTOLEMOS and one of his sailors (unseen). Sounds of the sea.
ODYSSEUS
This is it!
Lemnos. A no-man’s-land
in nowhere but ocean. No one
comes here, no one lives here.
Now, Neoptolemos, as you’re truly the son
of Achilles, the noblest of all the Greeks,
listen to me.
It’s here years ago
I put Philoktetes the Malian, son of Poias,
ashore . . . under orders from the chiefs 10
of course . . . what with his foot all
runny with pus from a flesh-eating sore,
well, we couldn’t get a moment’s peace!
couldn’t start the sacrifice, never mind
the wine offering, what with his
screaming, hollering, it was a bad sign,
it never let up! But that’s . . . too much
to get into. This is no time for talk.
If he catches me here my scheme
to take him is wasted. From now on 20
it’s your job to help me carry this out.
Look for a rock cave like a tunnel.
In cold weather, early or late in the day,
there’s always a sunny spot to sit in.
In summer a cool breeze blows through
bringing sleep. Below, to the left,
there should be a bubbling spring
to drink from—if it’s not dried up.
Easy now. Go see. Signal me if he’s
still there, or should we look elsewhere, 30
then we’ll know what to do. I’ll tell you,
you’ll listen. Together we can pull this off.
NEOPTOLEMOS cranes to look.
NEOPTOLEMOS
Odysseus, sir, what you’re looking for is here.
That cave? I think I see it.
ODYSSEUS
Above you? Below? I can’t see from here.
NEOPTOLEMOS
Above. No footsteps, far as I can hear.
ODYSSEUS
Watch out he’s not sleeping in there.
NEOPTOLEMOS
Now I see. Empty, yes, nobody’s there.
ODYSSEUS
No sign anyone lives there?
NEOPTOLEMOS
Yes. A bed of leaves pressed down 40
like it’s been slept on.
ODYSSEUS
Nothing else in there? That’s it?
NEOPTOLEMOS looks into the cave.
NEOPTOLEMOS
A wooden cup. Rough, poorly made.
And some kindling.
ODYSSEUS
Those would be his all right.
NEOPTOLEMOS
And rags drying in the sun. Whew!
Loaded with pus.
ODYSSEUS
That clinches it. He lives here. Can’t be far off.
How far could he get with a rotting foot? No,
he’s out scrounging for food, or some herb 50
to ease the pain. . . . Send your man to watch
out
so he doesn’t catch me off guard. Of all the Greeks
I’m the one he really wants to get his hands on.
NEOPTOLEMOS
(gestures off)
Say no more. He’s going. Consider it done.
Sailor (unseen) leaves, as NEOPTOLEMOS stares after him.
He’ll look out. But you were saying . . . ?
ODYSSEUS
As the son of Achilles you must carry out
your mission. But you can’t just put
your body into it.
You may hear something mmm ‘novel.’
Some plan you haven’t heard yet. Well 60
you have to go along with it. That’s what
you’re here for.
NEOPTOLEMOS
What are your orders?
ODYSSEUS
As you’re giving him your story
reach into his soul. Take it! He asks
who you are, where you’re from, tell him
straight out: you’re the son of Achilles.
Can’t lie about that. Only you’re headed home,
you’ve left the Greek fleet, you hate them. After
they’d begged you, prayed you, to leave your home 70
hey, you were their only hope of taking Troy
they didn’t think you deserved Achilles’ armor
or arms! wouldn’t give them to you when you
claimed them; by rights they were yours! Instead
they handed them over to Odysseus. Say
anything you want about me, nothing’s too nasty,
I couldn’t care less—but if you don’t do this
the whole Greek army will be demoralized. Just
get that bow. If you don’t, you’ll never take Troy.
It’s you who will have to deal with him. 80
He’ll trust you. Me, never. You didn’t
come to Troy bound by an oath. You came
on your own, not forced to—unlike those
of us who came on that first expedition.
He sees me, and has that bow, I’m dead,
and you are too, my comrade in doom.
No, here’s how we have to approach this:
as the bow is unbeatable, you have to be
clever enough to steal it.
O . . . I know, it’s not like you 90
my boy, to say or do anything out of line.
Yet to succeed is such a sweet thing,
go for it! We can be honest some other time.
Give yourself to me but one short, shameless
stretch of day.
Then, forever after, you’re free to be known
as the very soul of honor.
NEOPTOLEMOS
Son of Laertes, advice I can’t stand to hear
I’d hate to act on. It’s not in me
to scheme and lie. It wasn’t in my father, 100
either. Everyone says so. I’d sooner
take him head on, not sneak around. He’s got
one good foot! Can’t get the best of us on that.
Of course I’m here to help you, do as you say.
I’d hate to be called a traitor. Yet I’d rather do
what’s right, and fail, than succeed by deceit.
ODYSSEUS
You are your father’s son. Brave man.
At your age, just like you, my hand
was quicker than my tongue.
But now I’ve learned it’s words 110
that move people, not deeds.
NEOPTOLEMOS
Then you’re ordering me to lie?
ODYSSEUS
I’m telling you: disarm Philoktetes.
NEOPTOLEMOS
By being ‘disarming’? Why not
persuade him straight out?
ODYSSEUS
He won’t listen. And then force won’t work.
NEOPTOLEMOS
What is it makes him so sure of himself?
ODYSSEUS
Arrows definite as the death they deliver.
NEOPTOLEMOS
No one dares approach him then!
ODYSSEUS
No. Unless . . . you insinuate yourself. 120
NEOPTOLEMOS
You don’t think it’s shameful? To tell lies?
ODYSSEUS
Not if lying gets us through this
dragged-out war.
NEOPTOLEMOS
Won’t the look on my face give me away?
ODYSSEUS
Look to what’s in it for you! Can’t be shy about it.
NEOPTOLEMOS
What good’s it do me if he comes to Troy?
ODYSSEUS
Troy is taken . . . only with his arrows.
NEOPTOLEMOS
I’m not going to take Troy? Like you said?
ODYSSEUS
Not you without them. Nor them without you.
NEOPTOLEMOS
Well, if that’s how it is, we’ll have to go get them. 130
ODYSSEUS
You do that, you’re coming away with two prizes.
NEOPTOLEMOS
Two? Tell me, and I won’t hesitate.
ODYSSEUS
You’ll be called both shrewd and brave.
NEOPTOLEMOS
Then no matter what, I’ll do it. No shame.
ODYSSEUS
Remember what I told you then? Understood?
NEOPTOLEMOS
(irritated)
Yes! I’ll do it. Now that I’ve said I would.
ODYSSEUS
Wait here. He’ll show up. I’m leaving
so he doesn’t see me here, with you.
I’ll take the lookout back to your ship.
If you’re running late I’ll send him back 140
dressed like the skipper of a merchant ship.
The disguise will help. He’ll spin a yarn,
you pay attention! he’s feeding you leads,
go along with him. I’m going to the ship
now. But you know what you have to do.
May Hermes, who knows the way, lead us
on, and Victory, along with Athena
Defender of Athens
who always watches over me!
ODYSSEUS slips away. CHORUS of Neoptolemos’s sailors (mostly older than he) approach from the shore below. They cannot see the cave.
CHORUS
(severally)
Sir: 150
what should we say, what
not say?
we’re strangers in a strange land,
this hermit will be suspicious!
Instruct us.
The cleverest
of the clever,
the wisest advice, comes from
the one Zeus gave his godly scepter to.
You, still in youth, 160
have had this passed down to you.
So tell us, how can we serve you?
NEOPTOLEMOS
For now, you might look at the sea-cliff cave
he holes up in.
Don’t worry, it’s OK. But when this
dread figure works his way back
be ready.
If I signal you, come running. Help
as best you can.
LEADER
a long time now, sir. But at least
tell how he shelters himself. Where?
We need to know he can’t sneak up on us.
Where does his foot touch the ground
now? In there
or out here somewhere?
NEOPTOLEMOS
Well, you see where he lives up here.
Two openings. Rock . . .
LEADER
But the cursèd creature! Where is he?
NEOPTOLEMOS
I’m sure he’s dragging his agony around 180
hereabouts, looking for food. Word is
that’s how he lives: looking for game
to kill
with his wingèd arrows.
Rotten miserable as he is,
no one comes to him with a cure.
CHORUS
(severally)
I feel sorry for him: a man
no one cares for
with the face of a man
no one lives with, 190
alone always in pain.
Each time he feels a new need
bewildering him, his mind wanders.
How does he go on?
Dark are the doings of the gods. Unlucky
the strains of men
whose resources fall short of their doom.
This man’s as wellborn
as anyone. Yet here
stripped of all life gives, 200
even human company,
he lies alone
among dappled or shaggy beasts—
pitiful, tormented, hungering,
his pain incurable
the while the garbling Echo looms
from afar
crying back at him his own crying.
NEOPTOLEMOS
There’s no mystery in it. From the beginning
the gods, I believe, were in on this, 210
working through the vicious Chryse-.
All his suffering all alone
comes from a god—
to keep him from bending his almighty bow
against Troy—
until the time comes
when the city must fall.
LEADER
Shsh!
NEOPTOLEMOS
What now?
CHORUS
(severally)
A sound came up! 220
Like what a man would make
excruciated by pain!
Over there!
Or there! Listen,
listen! Such pain
dragging this way!
The voice of a man, sure now, sounding
the anguish of his way.
LEADER
Time now sir . . .
NEOPTOLEMOS
Why, what . . . ? 230
LEADER
Change of plans!
He’s almost here!
That’s no shepherd piping his way
home from pasture, no