Wilt say I failed in duty to thine age;
For that thou hast let me die? Not so; most sage,
Most pious I was, to mother and to thee;
And thus ye have paid me! Well, I counsel ye.
Lose no more time. Get quick another son
To foster thy last years, to lay thee on
Thy bier, when dead, and wrap thee in thy pall.
I will not bury thee. I am, for all
The care thou hast shown me, dead. If I have found
Another, true to save me at the bound
Of life and death, that other's child am I,
That other's fostering friend, until I die.
How falsely do these old men pray for death,
Cursing their weight of years, their weary breath!
When Death comes close, there is not one that dares
To die; age is forgot and all its cares.
Leader:
Oh, peace! Enough of sorrow in our path
Is strewn. Thou son, stir not thy father's wrath.
Pheres:
My son, whom seekest thou ... some Lydian thrall,
Or Phrygian, bought with cash?... to affright withal
By cursing? I am a Thessalian, free,
My father a born chief of Thessaly;
And thou most insolent. Yet think not so
To fling thy loud lewd words at me and go.