And from his eyes ward off the noontide blaze,
Now full upon him poured.
Come as our healer, lord!
And thou, my son, look well to all thy ways;
What next demands our thought?
What now must needs be wrought?
Thou seest him;—and I ask
Why we delay our task;
Occasion that still holds to counsel right
With quickest speed appears as conqueror in the fight."
They continue their chant in this strain of innuendo, while Philoctetes lies stretched in the sleep of physical exhaustion.
The conflict between the better nature of the young chief and the uncongenial task he has undertaken, has begun long before the sufferer awakes. It is shown but faintly in the dialogue; but an actor who threw himself into the part would no doubt express it very intelligibly by his movements and gestures, while he watched the sleeper and listened to the strains of the Chorus. Loyalty to what he holds to be the public interest of the Greek cause, the overwhelming importance of the capture of Troy, the renown which awaits him personally as its conqueror,—all these have to be weighed in the scale against an act of unquestionable treachery,—yet after all, it might be said, a treachery rather to the advantage of the victim. His embarrassment is completed by the words of Philoctetes, when at length he awakes from his troubled sleep, the agony subdued for a while, and addresses his deliverers, as he thinks them, with simple gratitude and confidence:—
