Where, from what provision, shall I, unhappy, find any hope of sustenance? Above my head the tremulous doves will go on their way through the whistling wind. I can stop their flight no more.ChorusIt was you, you, I say, doomed one, that chose this fate; and this fortune to which you are captive comes from no other source, nor from a stronger man’s compulsion. For when in fact it was in your power to show sense,you chose to reject the better fate, and to accept the worse.

PhiloctetesAh, miserable, miserable, then, am I, and shamed by hardship, who next must hereafter dwell in my misery here,with no man for companion in the days to come, and waste away. I can no longer bring food to my home, nolonger gain it by the winged weapons held in my strong hands. But the unsuspected and stealthy fictions of a treacherous mind deceived me. If only I could watch him, the contriver of this plot, doomed to endure my anguish for as long a time!ChorusDoom, god-sent doom constrained you to suffer this, not, I tell you, any treachery to which my hand was lent.Aim your hate-filled, baneful curse elsewhere, since I prefer that you not reject my friendship.

PhiloctetesAlas! No doubt sitting on the white ocean shorehe mocks me, brandishing the weapon that nourished my unhappy life, the weapon which no one else had carried! Cherished bow, ah, friend forced from my loving hands,if you have the power to feel, surely you see with pity that the comrade of Heracles will now no longer use you anymore!