OED. What is it, O son of Aegeus?  Let me hear,
I am wholly ignorant herein.

THE.  We are told
One, not thy townsman, but of kin to thee,
Hath come in unawares, and now is found
Kneeling at great Poseidon’s altar, where
I sacrificed, what time ye called me hither.

OED. What countryman, and wherefore suppliant there?

THE.  One thing alone I know.  He craves of thee
Some speech, they say, that will not hold thee long.

OED. His kneeling there imports no trivial suit.

THE.  All he desires, they tell me, is to come,
Have speech with thee, and go unharmed away.

OED. Who can he be that kneels for such a boon?

THE.  Think, if at Argos thou a kinsman hast
Who might desire to obtain so much of thee.

OED. Dear friend!  Hold there!  No more!

THE.  What troubles thee?

OED. Ask it not of me!

THE.  What?  Speak plainly forth.

OED. Thy words have shown me who the stranger is.

THE.  And who is he that I should say him nay?

OED. My son, O King,—­hateful to me, whose tongue
Least of the world I could endure to hear.

THE.  What pain is there in hearing?  Canst thou not
Hear, and refuse to do what thou mislikest?

OED. My Lord, I have come to loathe his very voice. 
I pray thee, urge me not to yield in this.

THE.  Think that the God must be considered too,
The right of suppliants may compel thy care.

ANT.  Father, give ear, though I be young that speak. 
Yield to the scruple of the King, who claims
This reverence for his people’s God, and yield
To us who beg our brother may come near. 
Take heart!  He will not force thee from thy will. 
What harm can come of hearkening?  Wisdom’s ways
Reveal themselves through words.  He is thy son. 
Whence, were his heartless conduct against thee
Beyond redemption impious, O my sire,
Thy vengeance still would be unnatural. 
Oh let him!—­Others have had evil sons
And passionate anger, but the warning voice
Of friends hath charmed their mood.  Then do not thou
Look narrowly upon thy present griefs,
But on those ancient wrongs thou didst endure
From father and from mother.  Thence thou wilt learn
That evil passion ever ends in woe. 
Thy sightless eyes are no light argument
To warn thee through the feeling of thy loss. 
Relent and hear us!  ’Tis a mere disgrace
To beg so long for a just boon.  The King
Is kind to thee.  Be generous in return.

OED. Child, your dear pleading to your hard request
Hath won me.  Let this be as ye desire. 
Only, my lord, if he is to come near,
Let no man’s power molest my liberty.

THE.  I need no repetition, aged friend,
Of that request.  Vaunt will I not, but thou
Be sure, if Heaven protect me, thou art free.