A sailor arrives to pass on Odysseus's cover story. Pretending that Neoptolemus had fled from Troy, he says he has been sent by Menelaus and Agamemnon to bring him back to battle. Odysseus would be fetching him himself, execpt that he is in the middle of a different search: to find Philoctetes. Neoptolemus isn't happy with this story, as he is losing his nerve to do what he had been ready to do. After dropping the news, the sailor heads back.
Philoctetes is pleased at his opportunity to revenge. His attitude: "Screw 'em all, let's hop on the boat and head home for Greece!" But Neoptolemus is hesitant, and tries to delay because of the weather. But he steels himself and is ready to go. Philoctetes gathers up his few possessions-- including the bow of Heracles, now much admired by Neoptolemus.
The Chorus again laments the horrible fate that has befallen Philoctetes. They point out [and this is new] that he never did anything to deserve the terrible physical pain and abandonment he has experienced. [This might be unique among the Greek tragedy characters up to this point.]
Suddenly, a wave of pain shoots through Philoctetes-- an intermittent additional suffering he must occasionally put up with, he explains. He is more afraid, though, that the spectacle will cause Neoptolemus to leave him, so he downplays it as best he can. In the meantime, he hands over the bow for safekeeping. As the pain grows, though, he asks for Neoptolemus to end it all: to burn his body in the same way Philoctetes burned Heracles's body when he was in similar pain from the poisoned shirt-- the very act that won him the bow in the first place. Neoptolemus promises to stay with him, and the pain gradually subsides, dropping Philoctetes into an exhausted sleep.
Now it is decision time for Neoptolemus and his crew. They have the bow, and the Chorus is urging that they run off with it. Neoptolemus feels the obligation to rescue Philoctetes from his abandonment. For the moment, though, they're more worried that Philoctetes will hear them discussing it.
He awakes, and is ready to go-- and Neoptolemus is ready to take him! But at the very last minute, he hesitates again: "Now is the moment. What shall I do from now on?" Philoctetes is begging him again, but sees the betrayal coming. Neoptolemus explains that it's not even as simple as that. The real problem is that, if he rescues Philoctetes, he won't be taking him home to Greece at all, but will head right back to the war with Troy and the hated Odysseus, Agamemnon, and Menelaus. To Philoctetes, this is far worse than before-- and now Neoptolemus refuses to return the bow, condemning Philoctetes to a lonely, hungry death on the island.
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This is horrible.
The tragic figure here turns out to be Neoptolemus, pulled by conflicting duties in at least three directions: to the war, to his promises to Philoctetes, to making sure Odysseus gets what is really coming to him. There's no way out.
I'm glad Sophocles mentioned that Philoctetes hadn't done anything to deserve his fate. It's a good reminder to an audience who sees most characters as bringing their burdens onto themselves. And it may have been a necessary reminder, too, if they weren't paying attention.
There's a clearer indication here of the problems inherent in Odysseus's "cleverness"-- called strategem throughout this translation. Philoctetes laments most of all that he was betrayed in this way. That's the problem. He is OK with perishing through the searing pain-- that is the natural way of things. He would be OK with being bested in battle-- that is one man using natural gifts toward their natural end. But the use of cleverness and guile in such a twisted way is despicable. It is a perversion of the natural goodness of man's gift of intelligence. Nothing could be worse.
One other neat little thing: the conversation between Neoptolemus and the sailor sent by Odysseus is a great example of dramatic irony. They're both using cover stories, keeping Philoctetes in the dark, while Neoptolemus is simultaneously expressing his disgust over the whole charade. Now where have I seen that before?
Thesis: George Costanza is a modern day Odysseus. "It's not a lie, if you believe it."
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