OED. My daughters, are ye there?

ANT.  Saved by the arm
Of Theseus and his most dear ministers.

OED. Come near me, child, and let your father feel
The treasure he had feared for ever gone.

ANT.  Not hard the boon which the heart longs to give.

OED. Where are ye, where?

ANT.  Together we draw near.

OED. Loved saplings of a solitary tree!

ANT.  A father’s heart hides all.

OED. Staves of mine age!

ANT.  Forlorn supporters of an ill-starred life!

OED. I have all I love; nor would the stroke of death
Be wholly bitter, with you standing by. 
Press close to either side of me, my children;
Grow to your sire, and ye shall give me rest
From mine else lonely, hapless, wandering life. 
And tell your tale as briefly as ye may,
Since at your age short speaking is enough.

ANT.  Here is our saviour.  He shall tell thee all,
And shorten labour both for us and thee.

OED. Think it not strange, dear friend, that I prolong
The unhoped-for greeting with my children here. 
Full well I know, the joy I find in them
Springs from thee only, and from none beside. 
Thou, thou alone hast saved them.  May the Gods
Fulfil my prayer for thee and for thy land! 
Since only in Athens, only here i’ the world,
Have I found pious thought and righteous care,
And truth in word and deed.  From a full heart
And thankful mind I thus requite thy love,
Knowing all I have is due to none but thee. 
Extend to me, I pray thee, thy right hand,
O King, that I may feel thee, and may kiss,
If that be lawful, thy dear head!  And yet
What am I asking?  How can one like me
Desire of thee to touch an outlawed man,
On whose dark life all stains of sin and woe
Are fixed indelibly?  I will not dare—­
No, nor allow thee!—­None but only they
Who have experience of such woes as mine
May share their wretchedness.  Thou, where thou art
Receive my salutation, and henceforth
Continue in thy promised care of me
As true as to this moment thou hast proved.

THE.  I marvel not at all if mere delight
In these thy daughters lengthened thy discourse,
Or led thee to address them before me. 
That gives me not the shadow of annoy. 
Nor am I careful to adorn my life
With words of praise, but with the light of deeds. 
And thou hast proof of this.  For I have failed
In nought of all I promised, aged King! 
Here stand I with thy children in full life
Unharmed in aught the foe had threatened them. 
And now why vaunt the deeds that won the day,
When these dear maids will tell them in thine ear? 
But let me crave thy counsel on a thing
That crossed me as I came.  Small though it seem
When told, ’tis worthy of some wonder, too. 
Be it small or great, men should not let things pass.