Neop. Right glad am I to see, beyond all hopes,
That thou dost live and breathe, as free from pain;
For, measured by the nature of thine ills,
Thy symptoms were of one who breathes no more.
But now rise up, or, if it please thee best,
These men shall bear thee, nor will grudge their toil,
Since this seems right to thee and me to do.
Phil. I thank thee, boy. Do thou, as thou dost say,
Upraise me; but for these men, let them be,
Lest they too soon be sickened with the stench;890
To dwell with me on board is bad enough.
Neop. So shall it be; but rise, and lean on me.
[Philoctetes rises, with the help of Neoptolemos,
and walks, leaning on his arm.]
Phil. Be not afraid; long use will keep me straight.
Neop. [Suddenly starting.] Ο heavens! what now remains
for me to do?
Phil. What ails thee, Ο my son? What words are these?
Neop. I know not how to speak my sore distress.
Phil. Distress from what? Speak not such words, my son.
Neop. And yet in that calamity I stand.
Phil. It cannot be my wound's foul noisomeness900
Hath made thee loth to take me in thy ship?
Neop. All things are noisome when a man deserts
His own true self, and does what is not meet.
Phil. But thou, at least, nor doest aught nor say'st,
Unworthy of thy father's soul, when thou
Dost help a man right honest.
Neop. I shall seem
Basest of men. Long since this tortured me.
Phil. Not from thy deeds, but from thy words I shrink.
